Which would you prefer? Death by shrimp, or death by a flaming log to the head? Death by flaming log to the head would definitely be memorable. People would probably talk about it for ages. But chances are, it'll be unexpected. On the other hand, you could probably enjoy yourself for a while before dying by excessive shrimp consumption. Who doesn't like stuffing themselves with tasty crustaceans?
If you think about all the planes that take off at every airport in the world at any given moment, it'd be safe to assume that there are a lot of planes up there. So why is it that you hardly ever see another plane when you're flying in one? I'm not even talking about near misses (because you KNOW there has to be a few here and there). They don't even pass each other from a distance. Doesn't the captain always say that we're cruising at 35,000 feet? Where's "da plane, boss! Da plane!"?
"Myself and I, we've got some straightenin' out to do"
Monday, June 25, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
I'm Still on the Boat
The Greek Odyssey is over. I have returned, a tiny bit tanned and full of olives. Oh man, so many olives...
Overall, it was a fabulous time. Being in the presence of structures that are more than 2000 years old was inspiring. And what they say is true: you can see the most amazing sunsets from Oia. As usual, there were things that I learned, things that made me think a little, and things that totally puzzled me. Among them:
On our plane, there was a series of coloured lights right above our seats that would light up every time we heard a brief doorbell ring. We figured it was a signal to the attendants in terms of what they had to do next, such as serve the drinks or start the movie. In the row of lights, there was a red, yellowish orange, and a green light, but they were flanked on both sides by dark lights. I knew one of them was blue, but I thought the other one must be a colour other than blue, so I asked my friend, "Does the light on the end look like a black light?" She replied, "Maybe. What do you think it means?" "I don't know, death?" I realized right after I said it that perhaps that wasn't the best thing to think about as we were flying 35,000 feet above the Atlantic in the middle of the night. But every time the doorbell rang, we looked up to see which light had turned on, just in case.
After taking three high speed ferries within five days, it took a while for both of us to stop feeling like we were constantly swaying. For me, it happened almost every time we sat down to eat, which is not ideal when you're trying to enjoy your moussaka.
There is no such thing as a "pedestrian street" anywhere in Greece. No matter how narrow you might think it is, if a truck can drive through it, a truck WILL drive through it, even if it has to scrape against the jewelery display rack.
There are a lot of headless statues.
Ouzo is not bad. Even if you don't like licorice, it's quite refreshing. On the other hand, I would not recommend drinking more than 100 mL of raki by yourself. Or while you're in Oia. It's just not a good idea to lose your balance there.
The majority of European taxi drivers are maniacs.
The Parthenon in Athens has been undergoing restoration for years, even decades. As a result, there's scaffolding and heavy machinery everywhere, making it impossible to take a decent photo. Surprisingly and sadly, it looks much better at night.
I was flipping channels one night and found the Greek version of "So You Think You Can Dance". I've gotten hooked to the US version, so I watched it for a bit. It's very different, in three ways: 1) All the contestants look exactly the same, 2) the audience does nothing but applaud (i.e., there's no booing and very little cheering), and 3) there was absolutely no way I could tell by the facial expressions of the judges or the performers if they were giving/receiving a good review or not. There was basically no emotion on either side. The lack of booing didn't help either.
You're not allowed to be born or die on the island of Delos. Good place to visit.
For most of the statues and buildings that you see outdoors in Athens, chances are you're looking at something fake. They've taken everything real into museums and put replicas in their place.
Final verdict: Greece is definitely the word. If anyone wants to go, I'd be ready and willing to do it again. I only just scratched the surface.
Lesson of the day: Beware the black light of death.
"Flames to dust, lovers to friends, why do all good things come to an end?"
Overall, it was a fabulous time. Being in the presence of structures that are more than 2000 years old was inspiring. And what they say is true: you can see the most amazing sunsets from Oia. As usual, there were things that I learned, things that made me think a little, and things that totally puzzled me. Among them:
On our plane, there was a series of coloured lights right above our seats that would light up every time we heard a brief doorbell ring. We figured it was a signal to the attendants in terms of what they had to do next, such as serve the drinks or start the movie. In the row of lights, there was a red, yellowish orange, and a green light, but they were flanked on both sides by dark lights. I knew one of them was blue, but I thought the other one must be a colour other than blue, so I asked my friend, "Does the light on the end look like a black light?" She replied, "Maybe. What do you think it means?" "I don't know, death?" I realized right after I said it that perhaps that wasn't the best thing to think about as we were flying 35,000 feet above the Atlantic in the middle of the night. But every time the doorbell rang, we looked up to see which light had turned on, just in case.
After taking three high speed ferries within five days, it took a while for both of us to stop feeling like we were constantly swaying. For me, it happened almost every time we sat down to eat, which is not ideal when you're trying to enjoy your moussaka.
There is no such thing as a "pedestrian street" anywhere in Greece. No matter how narrow you might think it is, if a truck can drive through it, a truck WILL drive through it, even if it has to scrape against the jewelery display rack.
There are a lot of headless statues.
Ouzo is not bad. Even if you don't like licorice, it's quite refreshing. On the other hand, I would not recommend drinking more than 100 mL of raki by yourself. Or while you're in Oia. It's just not a good idea to lose your balance there.
The majority of European taxi drivers are maniacs.
The Parthenon in Athens has been undergoing restoration for years, even decades. As a result, there's scaffolding and heavy machinery everywhere, making it impossible to take a decent photo. Surprisingly and sadly, it looks much better at night.I was flipping channels one night and found the Greek version of "So You Think You Can Dance". I've gotten hooked to the US version, so I watched it for a bit. It's very different, in three ways: 1) All the contestants look exactly the same, 2) the audience does nothing but applaud (i.e., there's no booing and very little cheering), and 3) there was absolutely no way I could tell by the facial expressions of the judges or the performers if they were giving/receiving a good review or not. There was basically no emotion on either side. The lack of booing didn't help either.
You're not allowed to be born or die on the island of Delos. Good place to visit.
For most of the statues and buildings that you see outdoors in Athens, chances are you're looking at something fake. They've taken everything real into museums and put replicas in their place.
Final verdict: Greece is definitely the word. If anyone wants to go, I'd be ready and willing to do it again. I only just scratched the surface.
Lesson of the day: Beware the black light of death.
"Flames to dust, lovers to friends, why do all good things come to an end?"
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Jet Set
In approximately 24 hours, two things will happen:
1) One of my high-school friends will be married, and
2) I will be on the verge of landing in London.
The sting has effectively worn off (see previous blog). There's nothing left but excitement and a tiny bit of apprehension as I play the "What Am I Forgetting???" game. Not a fun game, unfortunately.
Does it always feel strange when it's finally time to go on a vacation you've planned for a long time? For me, it happens every time. It's not just a happy anticipation feeling, it's something else that I can't quite describe. And it only occurs in the moments before I leave. The second I get on the plane, it's vacation mode all the way. Maybe the feeling will go away as I continue to go on vacation more often. That's it...I just need more practice.
So, I'm signing off for now. In about 36 hours, I'll be in Athens. Opa!
"Sun is in the sky, oh why, oh why would I wanna be anywhere else?"
1) One of my high-school friends will be married, and
2) I will be on the verge of landing in London.
The sting has effectively worn off (see previous blog). There's nothing left but excitement and a tiny bit of apprehension as I play the "What Am I Forgetting???" game. Not a fun game, unfortunately.
Does it always feel strange when it's finally time to go on a vacation you've planned for a long time? For me, it happens every time. It's not just a happy anticipation feeling, it's something else that I can't quite describe. And it only occurs in the moments before I leave. The second I get on the plane, it's vacation mode all the way. Maybe the feeling will go away as I continue to go on vacation more often. That's it...I just need more practice.
So, I'm signing off for now. In about 36 hours, I'll be in Athens. Opa!
"Sun is in the sky, oh why, oh why would I wanna be anywhere else?"
Monday, May 07, 2007
My Mighty Heart is Breaking
I don't even know if I can write this blog without suffering some kind of emotional breakdown. Just thinking about this is already making me a little teary...
After years and years and years of entering just about every kind of contest out there, today was the day I got the call from a local radio station, telling me that I had won.
And I had to turn them down.
Now, how big of an idiot am I? You tell me: I won a two-week trip for two to the Cannes Film Festival. Why did I turn them down? I'm going to Greece on Saturday, and the trip would require me to leave from here next Wednesday. No alternatives, no substitutes. It was an on-the-spot, take-it-or-leave-it call.
If you're like my coworkers (who, by the way, witnessed me screaming into the phone in the middle of the office), you're probably telling me that I should have dumped my Greece trip and gone on the Cannes trip. There are a lot of reasons why I couldn't do it. Cost, surprisingly, really wasn't the first thing that came to my mind. Even though I would have lost the entire value of two sets of plane tickets, not to mention a lot of hotel cancellation fees, it probably wouldn't have added up to the cost of the prize. I couldn't abandon my friend. It's not that I wouldn't have asked her to come with me (that would be REALLY mean!). There was really no way to adjust her schedule in order fit the prize dates. Otherwise, I probably would have been going on my Greece trip starting next Wednesday anyway.
They say there's a reason for everything. I believe that. Even though there are probably very few people in the world who would have wanted this trip more than I did, I'm sure that everything is playing out in a way that will lead me to where I'm eventually supposed to go. I'm taking the long way, but so be it. I've already entered the next contest in the series, but once again I'm flirting with disaster, because the prize draw date will occur while I'm still out of the country. Maybe that's the trick - entering contests with wild abandon will increase your chances of winning. It could explain why my friend's brother always wins. Anyway, no matter what I say now, the moment is gone and I won't get it back. I'll just have to wait for the next moment.
Until then, I'll be in the humvee.
"My heart is numb, has no feeling, so while I'm still healing, just try to have a little patience"
After years and years and years of entering just about every kind of contest out there, today was the day I got the call from a local radio station, telling me that I had won.
And I had to turn them down.
Now, how big of an idiot am I? You tell me: I won a two-week trip for two to the Cannes Film Festival. Why did I turn them down? I'm going to Greece on Saturday, and the trip would require me to leave from here next Wednesday. No alternatives, no substitutes. It was an on-the-spot, take-it-or-leave-it call.
If you're like my coworkers (who, by the way, witnessed me screaming into the phone in the middle of the office), you're probably telling me that I should have dumped my Greece trip and gone on the Cannes trip. There are a lot of reasons why I couldn't do it. Cost, surprisingly, really wasn't the first thing that came to my mind. Even though I would have lost the entire value of two sets of plane tickets, not to mention a lot of hotel cancellation fees, it probably wouldn't have added up to the cost of the prize. I couldn't abandon my friend. It's not that I wouldn't have asked her to come with me (that would be REALLY mean!). There was really no way to adjust her schedule in order fit the prize dates. Otherwise, I probably would have been going on my Greece trip starting next Wednesday anyway.
They say there's a reason for everything. I believe that. Even though there are probably very few people in the world who would have wanted this trip more than I did, I'm sure that everything is playing out in a way that will lead me to where I'm eventually supposed to go. I'm taking the long way, but so be it. I've already entered the next contest in the series, but once again I'm flirting with disaster, because the prize draw date will occur while I'm still out of the country. Maybe that's the trick - entering contests with wild abandon will increase your chances of winning. It could explain why my friend's brother always wins. Anyway, no matter what I say now, the moment is gone and I won't get it back. I'll just have to wait for the next moment.
Until then, I'll be in the humvee.
"My heart is numb, has no feeling, so while I'm still healing, just try to have a little patience"
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Everybody's Doing It
I'm being peer-pressured.
Okay, so I can totally understand why Facebook is such a great thing. You can find old friends, keep in touch with new friends, chat, blog, evite, yada yada yada. I've already been invited by people I haven't seen or heard from in ages, and I've been given the promotional speech by at least three close friends. But I'm still resisting.
I've thought about all the member services I've joined in order to be connected to people. ICQ was the first, and at the time that was greatest. Everyone was on ICQ, even my father. My friends and I would ICQ each other even when we were sitting side by side in the computer lab. Maybe the "uh-oh!" was a sign.
Then MSN came along. And I thought, why do I need MSN? ICQ works just fine. But as fewer and fewer people logged onto ICQ, I was eventually forced to move on and get an MSN name, just to continue talking to my friends.
I'm proud to say that I never joined Asian Avenue. That would have been a bit too much. I never really understood MySpace either. But I did join Friendster, which was pretty similar in concept to Six Degrees. I still log on from time to time, and I've had some strange guys contact me, which was...interesting. But it seems like the appeal of Friendster is also waning.
So now here's Facebook, yet another portal that asks for my personal info and needs me to come up with a password. Here's what gets me: all the people who have talked to me about Facebook have said the same thing - the other day they found someone (or were found by someone) they haven't talked to in years. They just showed up and started talking. I have nothing against that, it's just that this means anyone and everyone can find you, no matter where you are. I already have a lot of personal information floating around in the flotsam and jetsam of the 'Net. This blog, for example. But I've become quite comfortable in my general anonymity. And I already keep in touch with the people who are most important to me. I figure that if someone from my past really wanted to find me, they'd find me. Or find someone on Facebook who knows where I am.
My overall feeling about this is that someone, somewhere, will inevitably come up with something better. And then a bunch of people will migrate to that, and then everyone else will follow in order to stay trendy and connected. For now, I think I'm going to sit this one out.
"I've been waiting, I've been waiting for this moment all my life, but it's not quite right"
Okay, so I can totally understand why Facebook is such a great thing. You can find old friends, keep in touch with new friends, chat, blog, evite, yada yada yada. I've already been invited by people I haven't seen or heard from in ages, and I've been given the promotional speech by at least three close friends. But I'm still resisting.
I've thought about all the member services I've joined in order to be connected to people. ICQ was the first, and at the time that was greatest. Everyone was on ICQ, even my father. My friends and I would ICQ each other even when we were sitting side by side in the computer lab. Maybe the "uh-oh!" was a sign.
Then MSN came along. And I thought, why do I need MSN? ICQ works just fine. But as fewer and fewer people logged onto ICQ, I was eventually forced to move on and get an MSN name, just to continue talking to my friends.
I'm proud to say that I never joined Asian Avenue. That would have been a bit too much. I never really understood MySpace either. But I did join Friendster, which was pretty similar in concept to Six Degrees. I still log on from time to time, and I've had some strange guys contact me, which was...interesting. But it seems like the appeal of Friendster is also waning.
So now here's Facebook, yet another portal that asks for my personal info and needs me to come up with a password. Here's what gets me: all the people who have talked to me about Facebook have said the same thing - the other day they found someone (or were found by someone) they haven't talked to in years. They just showed up and started talking. I have nothing against that, it's just that this means anyone and everyone can find you, no matter where you are. I already have a lot of personal information floating around in the flotsam and jetsam of the 'Net. This blog, for example. But I've become quite comfortable in my general anonymity. And I already keep in touch with the people who are most important to me. I figure that if someone from my past really wanted to find me, they'd find me. Or find someone on Facebook who knows where I am.
My overall feeling about this is that someone, somewhere, will inevitably come up with something better. And then a bunch of people will migrate to that, and then everyone else will follow in order to stay trendy and connected. For now, I think I'm going to sit this one out.
"I've been waiting, I've been waiting for this moment all my life, but it's not quite right"
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Catch Up
Hey there. Time for a little catch up. Where the heck have I been? Around, I guess. It's been an interesting April. My brothers and I were on our own for two and a half weeks while my parents were on their Mediterranean cruise. If I weren't going to Greece, I would have been so very jealous. But as it turns out, the first thing they did when they got home was grumble about it! Apparently, each land tour was almost a sprint from one place of interest to the next. My mom lost a lot of weight, which I suppose is a good thing but she looked really drained. My fashion-plate aunt was without her suitcase for the entire cruise because the porters in Rome didn't put it on the boat, and after a couple of rounds of The Blame Game the authorities had the audacity to say that it was her fault for not making sure that her luggage was properly loaded into the hold. One of the members of their group had US$400 lifted from him by gypsies (the distraction was a large-breasted woman feeding her baby). My dad thought the pool on the ship was too small and the on-board entertainment was sub-par. Their hotel in London was pretty much a hostel. In the end, the verdict was that my mom didn't want to go on such a long vacation ever again.
Meanwhile, back on the ranch, so many things went wrong within two days of their departure that I thought we would be left stranded on our front lawn by the time they got home. The motherboard of our home computer fried. Two clocks stopped (if I were superstitious I would have been freaking out at this point). A leaky drain in our kitchen sink caused a mini-flood (that I, naturally, had to take care of). My grandfather had a minor panic attack while my aunt and uncle were out, and he couldn't hear a word I said on the phone (his hearing aid can't really pick up electronic voices). I finally had to drive over to my uncle's house in Scarborough to sort it all out. Thankfully, that's was the last of the craziness. The rest of the two weeks went by pretty smoothly.
My birthday was a weird non-event. With my parents gone, it didn't really feel like my birthday. My brothers did take me out for dinner, my parents called me (in the middle of the night, long distance from Turkey, on my dad's cell phone), my middle-school friends put together a hilariously bizarre Amazing Race event for me at the local Ikea, and my university friends took me out for brunch, but it still felt kind of different than in previous years. Oh well, 28 isn't such a big deal anyway.
Some sad news that most of you already know is that my condo has been delayed by eight months. Boo-urns. I've had some time to get over this slight setback. At least I'll be able to save more money. The plan is still in motion.
I think we're up to date now. There have been some thoughts rolling around in my head but I'll put those in a different blog. Life goes on, but it always snows on my birthday.
"On the corner of main street, just tryin' to keep it in line"
Meanwhile, back on the ranch, so many things went wrong within two days of their departure that I thought we would be left stranded on our front lawn by the time they got home. The motherboard of our home computer fried. Two clocks stopped (if I were superstitious I would have been freaking out at this point). A leaky drain in our kitchen sink caused a mini-flood (that I, naturally, had to take care of). My grandfather had a minor panic attack while my aunt and uncle were out, and he couldn't hear a word I said on the phone (his hearing aid can't really pick up electronic voices). I finally had to drive over to my uncle's house in Scarborough to sort it all out. Thankfully, that's was the last of the craziness. The rest of the two weeks went by pretty smoothly.
My birthday was a weird non-event. With my parents gone, it didn't really feel like my birthday. My brothers did take me out for dinner, my parents called me (in the middle of the night, long distance from Turkey, on my dad's cell phone), my middle-school friends put together a hilariously bizarre Amazing Race event for me at the local Ikea, and my university friends took me out for brunch, but it still felt kind of different than in previous years. Oh well, 28 isn't such a big deal anyway.
Some sad news that most of you already know is that my condo has been delayed by eight months. Boo-urns. I've had some time to get over this slight setback. At least I'll be able to save more money. The plan is still in motion.
I think we're up to date now. There have been some thoughts rolling around in my head but I'll put those in a different blog. Life goes on, but it always snows on my birthday.
"On the corner of main street, just tryin' to keep it in line"
Friday, March 09, 2007
The Last Sister
10:40 pm
That was the time at which the nursing home called my dad to tell him that his aunt had died tonight.
We've been waiting for this phone call for about a month. I know that sounds terrible, but it's true. After the first time my great-aunt was rushed to the hospital in late January, it was very clear to everyone that the inevitable was close at hand. She was in bad shape then, and it was only going to get worse. My dad went to see her today. I'm not sure if she knew who he was, because lately she's been unable to recognize anyone. Maybe she didn't even know he was there, because she hasn't been able to open her eyes either. But at least he got to see her.
She was my grandmother's last surviving true sister. It's a complicated story, one that I'm fully intending to write. My family has a really interesting history. I've been thinking quite a bit about that, and about life and death. The idea of writing a story around this experience seemed appropriate. Even as I write this, I'm finding it kind of difficult to articulate my thoughts because there is such a huge backstory.
Right now, my dad is e-mailing the cousins to let them know. I guess the family will be reuniting again soon.
"Far away from the memories of the people who care if I live or die"
That was the time at which the nursing home called my dad to tell him that his aunt had died tonight.
We've been waiting for this phone call for about a month. I know that sounds terrible, but it's true. After the first time my great-aunt was rushed to the hospital in late January, it was very clear to everyone that the inevitable was close at hand. She was in bad shape then, and it was only going to get worse. My dad went to see her today. I'm not sure if she knew who he was, because lately she's been unable to recognize anyone. Maybe she didn't even know he was there, because she hasn't been able to open her eyes either. But at least he got to see her.
She was my grandmother's last surviving true sister. It's a complicated story, one that I'm fully intending to write. My family has a really interesting history. I've been thinking quite a bit about that, and about life and death. The idea of writing a story around this experience seemed appropriate. Even as I write this, I'm finding it kind of difficult to articulate my thoughts because there is such a huge backstory.
Right now, my dad is e-mailing the cousins to let them know. I guess the family will be reuniting again soon.
"Far away from the memories of the people who care if I live or die"
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Greece is the Word
It was remarkably easier to decide on the vacation spot for 2007 than it was for 2006. That's right, I'm going to Greece! OPA!
For 10 days in May, I'll be island hopping with one of my best friends, soaking in the sun and the culture and possibly the ouzo (oof, my vacations are starting to become alcohol-based...).
The most perplexing thing here is that I'm going to a place where I don't speak the language but I know the alphabet. Alpha, beta, gamma, delta...they represented unknowns and constants and equations back in school. Plus, I only had to deal with them one at a time. Now I have to try and recognize them clustered into words. Oy... (oops, wrong language)
But before the sand and surf, I get to spend some time quality time with the snow! Next week is my long-awaited trip to Mont Tremblant with a friend and a small group of her cohorts. My skis have sat forlornly in the basement for too long!
"Step from the road to the sea to the sky and I do believe what we rely on"
For 10 days in May, I'll be island hopping with one of my best friends, soaking in the sun and the culture and possibly the ouzo (oof, my vacations are starting to become alcohol-based...).
The most perplexing thing here is that I'm going to a place where I don't speak the language but I know the alphabet. Alpha, beta, gamma, delta...they represented unknowns and constants and equations back in school. Plus, I only had to deal with them one at a time. Now I have to try and recognize them clustered into words. Oy... (oops, wrong language)
But before the sand and surf, I get to spend some time quality time with the snow! Next week is my long-awaited trip to Mont Tremblant with a friend and a small group of her cohorts. My skis have sat forlornly in the basement for too long!
"Step from the road to the sea to the sky and I do believe what we rely on"
Saturday, January 20, 2007
A Good Offence
How does that saying go? "The best defence is a good offence." I've been thinking about that a lot lately. I guess there are people out there who, in the interest of protecting themselves, will be the first to attack someone else. I can't blame them for wanting to avoid being hurt or injured. But it strikes me as something that's a little sad.
I've come to realize that I am not easily offended. People can say things about me, and even say them to my face, and I would just smile and laugh it off. I can only assume that there are two reasons for this:
1) I've got better things to do than to care what other people think of me, or
2) I'm too stupid to realize that someone is insulting me
Maybe it's a mixture of the two. However, this is my question to you, out there in the void:
Why can't we all just get along?
"He said, 'Will you defeat them, your demons, and all the non-believers, the plans that they have made?'"
I've come to realize that I am not easily offended. People can say things about me, and even say them to my face, and I would just smile and laugh it off. I can only assume that there are two reasons for this:
1) I've got better things to do than to care what other people think of me, or
2) I'm too stupid to realize that someone is insulting me
Maybe it's a mixture of the two. However, this is my question to you, out there in the void:
Why can't we all just get along?
"He said, 'Will you defeat them, your demons, and all the non-believers, the plans that they have made?'"
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
I'm Still Dreaming
Happy new year to y'all. I haven't quite decided if it's been a good start to the year. I have yet to see my credit card bill.
I watched "An Inconvenient Truth" with my cousin during the holidays, which is a really fascinating film and I highly recommend it if you haven't seen it already. I'm so glad Al Gore lightened up. Who knew that he was such a great public speaker? And it completely renewed my conviction that we're all going to die. Not right now, but soon.
There were a couple of things in that film that struck me as sad (well, there were actually many things but these two struck the most). The part in the film where they recapped the 2000 US presidential election in a montage of images was pretty depressing, but there was one scene where you could see Al Gore's facial expression as he conceded defeat. My cousin said, "Somewhere out there, there is an alternate universe where he won." To which I replied, "I want to find it." Okay, so it may not have turned out that much better than it is now, but at this point, I think I'd settle for anything that's even a tiny bit better.
The other sad scene was the polar bear. I'm not going to ruin it for anyone. I just felt so badly for that polar bear.
I've heard more than one person say that they're really happy that it's been so warm and that there's no snow. It makes me want to cry when I hear that. Not that I'm a huge environmentalist (my cousin already puts me to shame). But honestly, I find that it's sort of narrow-minded to think, "Woo hoo, I don't have to shovel this year!" If you don't like the snow that much, why don't you move? Don't you see the bigger picture? Doesn't this weather give you some kind of indication that there's a problem here?
Oops, I'm getting emotional.
And oh yeah. You all know how "White Christmas" is one of my all-time favourites, right? It's a movie that I'll watch every time it's on TV. My first glance through the guide last week gave me the impression that not a single network was going to show it this year, which bummed me out. But at the last minute I found it...playing at midnight on Boxing Day. So sad.
"There's nothing like watching TV all night underground"
I watched "An Inconvenient Truth" with my cousin during the holidays, which is a really fascinating film and I highly recommend it if you haven't seen it already. I'm so glad Al Gore lightened up. Who knew that he was such a great public speaker? And it completely renewed my conviction that we're all going to die. Not right now, but soon.
There were a couple of things in that film that struck me as sad (well, there were actually many things but these two struck the most). The part in the film where they recapped the 2000 US presidential election in a montage of images was pretty depressing, but there was one scene where you could see Al Gore's facial expression as he conceded defeat. My cousin said, "Somewhere out there, there is an alternate universe where he won." To which I replied, "I want to find it." Okay, so it may not have turned out that much better than it is now, but at this point, I think I'd settle for anything that's even a tiny bit better.
The other sad scene was the polar bear. I'm not going to ruin it for anyone. I just felt so badly for that polar bear.
I've heard more than one person say that they're really happy that it's been so warm and that there's no snow. It makes me want to cry when I hear that. Not that I'm a huge environmentalist (my cousin already puts me to shame). But honestly, I find that it's sort of narrow-minded to think, "Woo hoo, I don't have to shovel this year!" If you don't like the snow that much, why don't you move? Don't you see the bigger picture? Doesn't this weather give you some kind of indication that there's a problem here?
Oops, I'm getting emotional.
And oh yeah. You all know how "White Christmas" is one of my all-time favourites, right? It's a movie that I'll watch every time it's on TV. My first glance through the guide last week gave me the impression that not a single network was going to show it this year, which bummed me out. But at the last minute I found it...playing at midnight on Boxing Day. So sad.
"There's nothing like watching TV all night underground"
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Strange and Unusual
"Live people ignore the strange and unusual. I myself am...strange and unusual."
-Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice
Have you ever been passed by a bus? I'm not talking about a Greyhound on the highway. I mean a public transit bus on a local road. Even though you're driving about 65 km/h in a 50 zone. Maniac.
People who know me know about the "effect" my family has on merchant business. Specifically, when we enter a store that is virtually empty, a line will form behind us within minutes. It happens SO often, and it happened again today. I entered a coffee shop where nobody was standing at the counter and a few people were sitting at the tables. The baristas looked a little bored. I ordered my coffee and a slice of cake. After I paid, I looked behind me and, sure enough, a substantial line had formed. I sat down at one of the tables and watched. During the entire time I was eating my cake and drinking my drink, there was a never-ending line of people at the counter. However, by the time I had finished and got up to leave, the line had totally dissipated. Creepy.
"I wish I had a river I could skate away on"
-Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice
Have you ever been passed by a bus? I'm not talking about a Greyhound on the highway. I mean a public transit bus on a local road. Even though you're driving about 65 km/h in a 50 zone. Maniac.
People who know me know about the "effect" my family has on merchant business. Specifically, when we enter a store that is virtually empty, a line will form behind us within minutes. It happens SO often, and it happened again today. I entered a coffee shop where nobody was standing at the counter and a few people were sitting at the tables. The baristas looked a little bored. I ordered my coffee and a slice of cake. After I paid, I looked behind me and, sure enough, a substantial line had formed. I sat down at one of the tables and watched. During the entire time I was eating my cake and drinking my drink, there was a never-ending line of people at the counter. However, by the time I had finished and got up to leave, the line had totally dissipated. Creepy.
"I wish I had a river I could skate away on"
Monday, November 13, 2006
90 Years
To cap off the biggest weekend of the year, my family threw a party for my grandpa's 90th birthday. Now, I believe that this was a "for real" 90th. I've found that, for some reason or another, my ancestors were in the habit of submitting false dates of birth when they immigrated to this country. We celebrated my great-aunt's 90th birthday earlier this year, but we've calculated that she's actually closer to 100. Don't tell anyone.
The planning of this event took on the form of a "mini-wedding". There were arguments about the seating arrangements for 40+ invitees. There was a rather large cake, a game, and parting gifts. An aunt and uncle changed their plane tickets so they could fly back to Toronto from London two days early to make it to the party.
My father put together a scrapbook, featuring all the congratulatory certificates we received from the Governor-General, members of parliament (both federal and provincial), and the mayor. My dad found a photo of my great-grandfather that was taken in Cuba in the early 1900s. I KNOW there must be a good story connected with that. My grandpa met all kinds of interesting people when he was the manager of a prominent hotel in Hong Kong: General Maxwell Taylor, the royal family of Nepal, and who knows who else. There was an old photo of Grandpa with a group of men that my dad couldn't identify. When we showed it to him, he was able to name every single one of them. Memory is a funny thing.
I have a big family on one side, but we're not that close and we don't see each other that often. Every time we get together, in cases such as this, being in a room filled with four generations of my family brings a lot of things into perspective for me. It's like looking backwards and forwards at the same time. I'm often glad that I belong to a culture that holds family in such high regard. Sadly though, my grandpa is the only grandparent I have left, and most of my older relatives have passed on in recent years. I'm afraid that, sooner rather than later, all I'll have left are the photos. And my memory is fuzzy.
"It's times like these you learn to live again"
The planning of this event took on the form of a "mini-wedding". There were arguments about the seating arrangements for 40+ invitees. There was a rather large cake, a game, and parting gifts. An aunt and uncle changed their plane tickets so they could fly back to Toronto from London two days early to make it to the party.
My father put together a scrapbook, featuring all the congratulatory certificates we received from the Governor-General, members of parliament (both federal and provincial), and the mayor. My dad found a photo of my great-grandfather that was taken in Cuba in the early 1900s. I KNOW there must be a good story connected with that. My grandpa met all kinds of interesting people when he was the manager of a prominent hotel in Hong Kong: General Maxwell Taylor, the royal family of Nepal, and who knows who else. There was an old photo of Grandpa with a group of men that my dad couldn't identify. When we showed it to him, he was able to name every single one of them. Memory is a funny thing.
I have a big family on one side, but we're not that close and we don't see each other that often. Every time we get together, in cases such as this, being in a room filled with four generations of my family brings a lot of things into perspective for me. It's like looking backwards and forwards at the same time. I'm often glad that I belong to a culture that holds family in such high regard. Sadly though, my grandpa is the only grandparent I have left, and most of my older relatives have passed on in recent years. I'm afraid that, sooner rather than later, all I'll have left are the photos. And my memory is fuzzy.
"It's times like these you learn to live again"
Sometimes the Woman Doesn't Show Up
My friend is married. I feel strange when I say that aloud to myself. It feels even less real than when I was saying, my friend is going to be married.
Saturday was the big day. Despite our best efforts, it started a little shakily, with a slow hairstylist, unusual traffic patterns, a lost photographer, a pastor who casually mentioned to the groom that Taiwanese brides don't always show up, and a ceremony that began 40 minutes later than it should. But it all worked out in the end. We were even treated to a lesson on relationship statistics and a recitation of a Peanuts cartoon from the wonderful pastor.
After the ceremony, everything was peachy. The luncheon was yummy, the photo session at the greenhouse was fun, the ring bearer kept us entertained, the limo ride was enhanced with champagne, the bar at the reception was open, the speeches were short and funny, and the slideshow was a tearjerker (in a good way).
Someone asked me if this experience fueled any desire to get married myself. I have to say that it hasn't really changed my opinion of it: marriage is a nice thing, but it's not the only thing. I am ridiculously thrilled for my newly married friend. If the same should happen for me, that would be great. Until then, I'm not sweating about it too much. I'll just sit over here with my eyes open, eating my cake.
CONGRATULATIONS, J & M!
"With all of my heart, you know I'll always be right there"
Saturday was the big day. Despite our best efforts, it started a little shakily, with a slow hairstylist, unusual traffic patterns, a lost photographer, a pastor who casually mentioned to the groom that Taiwanese brides don't always show up, and a ceremony that began 40 minutes later than it should. But it all worked out in the end. We were even treated to a lesson on relationship statistics and a recitation of a Peanuts cartoon from the wonderful pastor.
After the ceremony, everything was peachy. The luncheon was yummy, the photo session at the greenhouse was fun, the ring bearer kept us entertained, the limo ride was enhanced with champagne, the bar at the reception was open, the speeches were short and funny, and the slideshow was a tearjerker (in a good way).
Someone asked me if this experience fueled any desire to get married myself. I have to say that it hasn't really changed my opinion of it: marriage is a nice thing, but it's not the only thing. I am ridiculously thrilled for my newly married friend. If the same should happen for me, that would be great. Until then, I'm not sweating about it too much. I'll just sit over here with my eyes open, eating my cake.
CONGRATULATIONS, J & M!
"With all of my heart, you know I'll always be right there"
Immi and the Beat Box
After many frustrating experiences of poor timing, I was able to witness Imogen Heap live and on stage last week. She is absolutely the coolest person, and an integral component of my British Phase. For those who aren't familiar with her, you've probably heard her songs on any Zach Braff movie soundtrack or an episode of The OC.
She had two opening acts, one of whom was Kid Beyond, a beatboxer who is FRIGGIN' AMAZING. When you listen to his music, it blows the mind to think that every sound you hear was made using only his mouth and a microphone. This was his first performance in Toronto ever. When he comes back, I HIGHLY recommend experiencing his live act.
"The dust has only just begun to fall, crop circles in the carpet"
She had two opening acts, one of whom was Kid Beyond, a beatboxer who is FRIGGIN' AMAZING. When you listen to his music, it blows the mind to think that every sound you hear was made using only his mouth and a microphone. This was his first performance in Toronto ever. When he comes back, I HIGHLY recommend experiencing his live act.
"The dust has only just begun to fall, crop circles in the carpet"
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Justice is Blinded
My number finally came up, and I got called for jury duty this week. It's not so much "jury duty" as it is "sit-and-wait-for-potential-jury duty". And the general loathing of it is really quite surprising. Everyone at work has told me at one point or another: "Gee, I hope you don't get picked." Other coworkers who experienced the jury selection process last month were telling stories of every excuse they tried on the judge to get out of serving. I got caught up in the whole stigma of it and was apprehensive at first, but right before my first day at the courthouse, I realized I was really looking forward to it. This is the one civic duty we are asked to perform in order to live in this country. Not to mention the fact that this is Law & Order in real life, not that crazy Hollywood version of it. I was so excited.
The first day turned out to be the high point of the week. A few hundred people showed up, we all watched the ridiculous "jury duty is great" propaganda video that was shot sometime in the late 80s-early 90s, and then anyone who had some kind of issue with serving was given the chance to go up and plead their case. A few people got to leave, but most people had to sit down again. Next thing I knew, my panel was called up for a case. We trekked up to the 7th floor (six sets of escalators and a stairwell) and squished into the courtroom. The judge, the lawyers, the accused, the court reporter, everyone was there. After the general details of the case were revealed (robbery and extortion), the registrar pulled our names out of the drum one by one to make up groups of 20. I ended up as the eighth person in the second group. After breaking for lunch, we waited in the jury lounge until we were called in.
I sat there, reading my book (ironically, I was reading "Wicked") when I felt something go into my left eye. Thinking it was an eyelash, I started blinking and gently brushing the corner of my eye with my fingertip. It took a lot longer than usual, and after a while it stopped hurting but it felt like there was still something there. I went to the washroom and looked in the mirror. Not only was my left eye blood red, but I could see that the eyeball itself had swelled, so that when I closed my eyelid it was sort of squeezing my eyeball in the process. Very attractive. I went to see the court officer and she tried to help me flush out my eye. When I came out of the bathroom, my group was getting ready to go to the courtroom! So I grabbed my stuff and tried my best to look normal. I thought, great, they're going to reject me because it looks like my eye is going to fall out. But I had some more waiting to do in an adjacent courtroom, and by the time it was my turn, the court officer said my eye looked a lot better than before.
I was ushered into the room and asked to take the stand. I went through all the steps, right up to the point where I stood and faced the accused. Then the defence laywer challenged me and that was the end of it. I sat down at the back of the courtroom and watched the others go through the same motions.
That was pretty much it. I sat and read for the rest of the week. We were dismissed early most days, but I found it harder and harder to stay awake for the entire time. By noon today, I was in trouble. I had finished my book, but I had failed to bring anything else to read. How was I going to pass the time? I was in the middle of reading an excerpt from the sequel (appropriately titled "Son of a Witch") when they announced the news: we were free for the rest of the day and the rest of the week. Actually, we were free for the next three years. So much for my stint in the justice system.
"Like a fire, don't need water, like a jury, needs a liar"
The first day turned out to be the high point of the week. A few hundred people showed up, we all watched the ridiculous "jury duty is great" propaganda video that was shot sometime in the late 80s-early 90s, and then anyone who had some kind of issue with serving was given the chance to go up and plead their case. A few people got to leave, but most people had to sit down again. Next thing I knew, my panel was called up for a case. We trekked up to the 7th floor (six sets of escalators and a stairwell) and squished into the courtroom. The judge, the lawyers, the accused, the court reporter, everyone was there. After the general details of the case were revealed (robbery and extortion), the registrar pulled our names out of the drum one by one to make up groups of 20. I ended up as the eighth person in the second group. After breaking for lunch, we waited in the jury lounge until we were called in.
I sat there, reading my book (ironically, I was reading "Wicked") when I felt something go into my left eye. Thinking it was an eyelash, I started blinking and gently brushing the corner of my eye with my fingertip. It took a lot longer than usual, and after a while it stopped hurting but it felt like there was still something there. I went to the washroom and looked in the mirror. Not only was my left eye blood red, but I could see that the eyeball itself had swelled, so that when I closed my eyelid it was sort of squeezing my eyeball in the process. Very attractive. I went to see the court officer and she tried to help me flush out my eye. When I came out of the bathroom, my group was getting ready to go to the courtroom! So I grabbed my stuff and tried my best to look normal. I thought, great, they're going to reject me because it looks like my eye is going to fall out. But I had some more waiting to do in an adjacent courtroom, and by the time it was my turn, the court officer said my eye looked a lot better than before.
I was ushered into the room and asked to take the stand. I went through all the steps, right up to the point where I stood and faced the accused. Then the defence laywer challenged me and that was the end of it. I sat down at the back of the courtroom and watched the others go through the same motions.
That was pretty much it. I sat and read for the rest of the week. We were dismissed early most days, but I found it harder and harder to stay awake for the entire time. By noon today, I was in trouble. I had finished my book, but I had failed to bring anything else to read. How was I going to pass the time? I was in the middle of reading an excerpt from the sequel (appropriately titled "Son of a Witch") when they announced the news: we were free for the rest of the day and the rest of the week. Actually, we were free for the next three years. So much for my stint in the justice system.
"Like a fire, don't need water, like a jury, needs a liar"
Monday, October 16, 2006
"Hey George, the ocean called..."
One of the funniest moments of my life occurred last night. My brothers and I decided to go to Red Lobster so that they could attempt to take advanage of an "Endless Shrimp" situation. The process was a sight to behold. Okay, it wasn't like they had a towering stack of refill dishes in front of them. In all, they probably averaged something like 60-70 smallish shrimp each. But the strategies (e.g. "We're using the salad as a base" or "Good thing I'm wearing my loose jeans"), the observations (e.g. "I think the garlic butter has penetrated the lower layers of my skin") and the preparations for the consequences (e.g."I want my tombstone to say 'Death by Shrimp'...that would be so cool") made me laugh so hard I thought I was going to puke before they would.
"They say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet, you don't have to drink right now"
"They say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet, you don't have to drink right now"
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Sliding Scale
On a smaller but crazier scale, another plane crashes into another building in NYC today. Significantly less damage and loss of life, to be sure.
Well, what are the odds that I know someone who lives in that building??
I was very emotionally affected by the events of 9/11. But out of the thousands of people who were involved, I didn't know a single one of them. Tonight, I find out that a girl I went to university with was actually in that building when the plane hit it. She saw the falling debris from her window. She was evacuated with the other residents. She stood out in the rain as the emergency crews ran around to contain the fire and treat the injured. She was allowed back into her apartment about half an hour ago. She's okay, which is good to know.
Suddenly, the entire event seems so much bigger to me.
"The streets are in distress, the sun suffocates behind darkened skies"
Well, what are the odds that I know someone who lives in that building??
I was very emotionally affected by the events of 9/11. But out of the thousands of people who were involved, I didn't know a single one of them. Tonight, I find out that a girl I went to university with was actually in that building when the plane hit it. She saw the falling debris from her window. She was evacuated with the other residents. She stood out in the rain as the emergency crews ran around to contain the fire and treat the injured. She was allowed back into her apartment about half an hour ago. She's okay, which is good to know.
Suddenly, the entire event seems so much bigger to me.
"The streets are in distress, the sun suffocates behind darkened skies"
Sunday, October 01, 2006
What is Art?
One of the best things to happen to my city in long time is Nuit Blanche, an entire night devoted to art, displayed in strange and unexpected places. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not an expert or an aficionado. So this night was special to me, in that I could be a little nomadic, open my mind, and explore my city the way I explore other cities. And see if I could stay awake until 7 in the morning.
Walking through a man-made fog, encountering two police officers dancing the tango in the middle of the street, "eventually" finding a secret garden, watching sheep grazing across the dome of the planetarium, eating hot roasted corn, spelling out a name in a block of ice in the middle of a carwash, experiencing the divorce of two gay penguins, observing a woman asleep in a glass display case, discovering galleries I never knew existed.
Unconventional art, to say the least, and perhaps it wasn't that impressive to some. But I liked it all because it's something that I don't get to see every day. Or ever. And it expresses something that can't be expressed any other way.
The best part, which was agreed upon by all the people I was with throughout the night, was that the city was so alive, so full of people roaming around in search of cultural enlightenment. For one night, everyone was the same.
I made it to 3:00 am. Better luck next time.
"We keep on waiting, waiting on the world to change"
Walking through a man-made fog, encountering two police officers dancing the tango in the middle of the street, "eventually" finding a secret garden, watching sheep grazing across the dome of the planetarium, eating hot roasted corn, spelling out a name in a block of ice in the middle of a carwash, experiencing the divorce of two gay penguins, observing a woman asleep in a glass display case, discovering galleries I never knew existed.
Unconventional art, to say the least, and perhaps it wasn't that impressive to some. But I liked it all because it's something that I don't get to see every day. Or ever. And it expresses something that can't be expressed any other way.
The best part, which was agreed upon by all the people I was with throughout the night, was that the city was so alive, so full of people roaming around in search of cultural enlightenment. For one night, everyone was the same.
I made it to 3:00 am. Better luck next time.
"We keep on waiting, waiting on the world to change"
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
In Need of Recovery
Two weeks of not-enough-sleep, far-too-much-excitement, and unbelievably-constant-activity caught up with me yesterday as I schlepped through the day on auto-pilot. I was pretty sure people at work noticed me dozing, and I was worried that I wouldn't be able to make it home in one piece. The sad part is that I STILL didn't go to bed early last night. But somehow my energy returned today. I'll have to enjoy it while it lasts...
Another festival come and gone. Highlights? Well, this year it was obvious. But in terms of the films, I have to say that "The Fall" was the most surprising and definitely my favourite. I didn't plan on seeing this one, I just got the chance during one of my theatre shifts. The only person I recognized was the lead character, played by Lee Pace, who was on the series "Wonderfalls", which I loved and as such was inevitably cancelled. It's set in the 1920s, where a movie stuntman falls off a horse and loses the use of his legs. His depression sets in, and he cons a young Eastern European girl with a broken arm to steal some morphine for him. In return, he tells her a story about five heroes who set out together to kill an evil governor. The film was shot in 23 countries and the story has a Wizard of Oz quality, where people from the real world show up in the fantasy world. Very cool cinematography, and the little girl completely steals the show (she kind of looks like Hallie Eisenberg and reminds me of Jonathan Lipnicki but is far less annoying). The rest of the films I saw ("The Last Kiss", "Penelope", "Starter for Ten", and "Paris, je t'aime") all tie for runner-up. To be honest, I loved all of them pretty equally. I kept it light this year, nothing too dark or heavy. That's part of the reason why I chose not to see "The Last King of Scotland" despite all the good things I heard about it and the fact that my favourite actor was in it. African dictators? People getting killed? Sorry, I'll save that for another day.
I was fortunate enough to see "Paris, je t'aime" with my friend who accompanied me in Paris. Seeing all the familiar arrondissements in the 18 short films brought it all back. Man, I miss Paris. But that cemetary still creeps me out. And now I'll always picture Oscar Wilde popping up out of nowhere with relationship advice.
And finally, guess what! It would appear that "Haven" is being released in selected cities in the US. I saw Orlando Bloom on a talk show last week and wondered, what's he doing there? I then discovered that he's promoting a film that I saw at the festival two years ago. I guess some distribution deals take longer than others. If it ends up showing somewhere in Toronto, I would recommend it to you. Like I said in my blog, it's Orlando in a non-pretty-boy role, and the large ensemble cast is quite good. Remember, the jerk chicken is excellent.
"If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?"
Another festival come and gone. Highlights? Well, this year it was obvious. But in terms of the films, I have to say that "The Fall" was the most surprising and definitely my favourite. I didn't plan on seeing this one, I just got the chance during one of my theatre shifts. The only person I recognized was the lead character, played by Lee Pace, who was on the series "Wonderfalls", which I loved and as such was inevitably cancelled. It's set in the 1920s, where a movie stuntman falls off a horse and loses the use of his legs. His depression sets in, and he cons a young Eastern European girl with a broken arm to steal some morphine for him. In return, he tells her a story about five heroes who set out together to kill an evil governor. The film was shot in 23 countries and the story has a Wizard of Oz quality, where people from the real world show up in the fantasy world. Very cool cinematography, and the little girl completely steals the show (she kind of looks like Hallie Eisenberg and reminds me of Jonathan Lipnicki but is far less annoying). The rest of the films I saw ("The Last Kiss", "Penelope", "Starter for Ten", and "Paris, je t'aime") all tie for runner-up. To be honest, I loved all of them pretty equally. I kept it light this year, nothing too dark or heavy. That's part of the reason why I chose not to see "The Last King of Scotland" despite all the good things I heard about it and the fact that my favourite actor was in it. African dictators? People getting killed? Sorry, I'll save that for another day.
I was fortunate enough to see "Paris, je t'aime" with my friend who accompanied me in Paris. Seeing all the familiar arrondissements in the 18 short films brought it all back. Man, I miss Paris. But that cemetary still creeps me out. And now I'll always picture Oscar Wilde popping up out of nowhere with relationship advice.
And finally, guess what! It would appear that "Haven" is being released in selected cities in the US. I saw Orlando Bloom on a talk show last week and wondered, what's he doing there? I then discovered that he's promoting a film that I saw at the festival two years ago. I guess some distribution deals take longer than others. If it ends up showing somewhere in Toronto, I would recommend it to you. Like I said in my blog, it's Orlando in a non-pretty-boy role, and the large ensemble cast is quite good. Remember, the jerk chicken is excellent.
"If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?"
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
You Are My Sunshine
I am a friggin' starstruck lunatic.
I'm sitting here, still trying to figure out why I'm going out of my mind after meeting the ONE actor at the entire film festival that I really wanted to meet. Okay, it wasn't a "meeting" per se, more like a very brief exchange of slightly coherent words that occurred while he wasn't even looking in my direction. And even now, hours later, I can tell that I'm going to continue to be weirdly excited for days on end.
So I won't go into the whole story, because it's just too long and I'll probably start giggling again (and I just stopped, so I really don't want to get back into that). I'll sort of skip to the end, where I see him leaving in a black SUV and I actually catch myself waving at him like an idiot. I decided to go eat a quick dinner at one of my favourite Thai restaurants a couple of blocks away from the theatre. There I was, sitting by myself in a cafeteria-style eatery, surrounded by dozens of really loud people enjoying their meals and each other's company, and I evaluated my current emotional state. I started off by thinking, what the hell is wrong with me? I was reduced to this quivering, hyperventilating little girl simply by having a two-sentence conversation with a guy I don't know beyond what's written on his fan sites and other online entertainment resources. He is a person, just like I am a person and everyone in the restaurant is a person. How...or why...are we like this when it comes to well-known people? Is it a cultural-societal thing? Or are we genetically predisposed to madness when we come into contact with people we know only through a public medium and not even on a remotely personal level?
I can't lecture anyone about this, since I am clearly inflicted with the same tendency to react strongly towards any and all famous people. I just wish I could control it a little better. Although I am sort of proud of the way I held it together when I was standing six inches away from him. I was so dangerously close to losing it while he was signing my ticket stub. That would have been horrible.
Oh yes, and I've learned something about myself that I would like to share with the rest of the world. Ready? Here it is:
I am a complete sucker for all British accents.
And if you're wondering about the title of the blog, it's a reference to Penelope, one of the three films my favourite actor is starring in at the film festival. As far as I know, right now only one of my loyal readers knows what it means. The rest will just have to watch the movie.
(How's that for subtle marketing?)
"Why'd you have to be so cute? It's impossible to ignore you"
I'm sitting here, still trying to figure out why I'm going out of my mind after meeting the ONE actor at the entire film festival that I really wanted to meet. Okay, it wasn't a "meeting" per se, more like a very brief exchange of slightly coherent words that occurred while he wasn't even looking in my direction. And even now, hours later, I can tell that I'm going to continue to be weirdly excited for days on end.
So I won't go into the whole story, because it's just too long and I'll probably start giggling again (and I just stopped, so I really don't want to get back into that). I'll sort of skip to the end, where I see him leaving in a black SUV and I actually catch myself waving at him like an idiot. I decided to go eat a quick dinner at one of my favourite Thai restaurants a couple of blocks away from the theatre. There I was, sitting by myself in a cafeteria-style eatery, surrounded by dozens of really loud people enjoying their meals and each other's company, and I evaluated my current emotional state. I started off by thinking, what the hell is wrong with me? I was reduced to this quivering, hyperventilating little girl simply by having a two-sentence conversation with a guy I don't know beyond what's written on his fan sites and other online entertainment resources. He is a person, just like I am a person and everyone in the restaurant is a person. How...or why...are we like this when it comes to well-known people? Is it a cultural-societal thing? Or are we genetically predisposed to madness when we come into contact with people we know only through a public medium and not even on a remotely personal level?
I can't lecture anyone about this, since I am clearly inflicted with the same tendency to react strongly towards any and all famous people. I just wish I could control it a little better. Although I am sort of proud of the way I held it together when I was standing six inches away from him. I was so dangerously close to losing it while he was signing my ticket stub. That would have been horrible.
Oh yes, and I've learned something about myself that I would like to share with the rest of the world. Ready? Here it is:
I am a complete sucker for all British accents.
And if you're wondering about the title of the blog, it's a reference to Penelope, one of the three films my favourite actor is starring in at the film festival. As far as I know, right now only one of my loyal readers knows what it means. The rest will just have to watch the movie.
(How's that for subtle marketing?)
"Why'd you have to be so cute? It's impossible to ignore you"