"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"
Saturday, December 23, 2006
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"
Monday, August 28, 2006
The Favourite Default
My brothers and I have gotten along a lot better now that we're older. Although it's not completely harmonious, it's a far cry from the constant squabbling that used to occur when we were little. At least I can say that we will do things for each other a lot more willingly, but it always prompts a comical "THANKS (insert sibling's name here)! You're the BEST!" kind of comment.
It's become something of a joke that we pit ourselves against one another in this way. The other night, Steve asked me to help him pick out some interview clothes for him. Edmond piped in and said that he could help him out in two seconds: shirt, pants, done. Steve retorted that he wanted me to help because I was his favourite. Since he always calls me his "favourite sister", I laughed and asked, "Your favourite what?" Edmond immediately responded, "You're his favourite default, just like I'm his favourite default." Which is entirely true and which is what makes it so funny. The only sticky point is that I have to hesitate when I say who my "favourite brother" is.
"The road is long, with many a winding turn"
It's become something of a joke that we pit ourselves against one another in this way. The other night, Steve asked me to help him pick out some interview clothes for him. Edmond piped in and said that he could help him out in two seconds: shirt, pants, done. Steve retorted that he wanted me to help because I was his favourite. Since he always calls me his "favourite sister", I laughed and asked, "Your favourite what?" Edmond immediately responded, "You're his favourite default, just like I'm his favourite default." Which is entirely true and which is what makes it so funny. The only sticky point is that I have to hesitate when I say who my "favourite brother" is.
"The road is long, with many a winding turn"
Friday, August 25, 2006
The Loud Demographic
I attended an open house at the volunteer office for the film fest this evening. There were 70 people who signed up to listen to a couple of seminars. The demographic of this group was all over the map: slightly more females than males, ages ranging from young to not-so-young, people representing every nationality on the planet. But of these people, three of them stood out to me: Brown-clothed Woman, Blue-clothed Woman, and White Bandana Woman. They stood out because they were the ones who basically yelled out questions and comments throughout the session, regardless of whether it was question period or not. There was no order, no "raise your hand" as we had been taught time and again. Just random blurting, like "Were you at Cannes last year? I remember your voice!"
At first it struck me as being rude, since occasionally the speaker was still speaking at the time. And a few of the questions were posed just before the speaker was about to cover the topic. But looking a little more closely at these women, I realized a couple of things: a) they were women, and b) they were slightly not-so-young women belonging to different (or maybe similar) ethnic minorities. So their general loudness could be attributed to the fact that they weren't raised in the same culture and society in which I was raised. Or (and this is my scarier conclusion) it could be inherent in the gender. So when I reach the age of not-so-young, I could naturally end up being a loud, obnoxious blurter.
Or perhaps not. Looking around, all of the younger volunteers had no questions whatsoever. Maybe I'll be a member of a silent generation. Not likely, but still just as scary.
"When I grow up I'll be stable, when I grow up I'll turn the tables"
At first it struck me as being rude, since occasionally the speaker was still speaking at the time. And a few of the questions were posed just before the speaker was about to cover the topic. But looking a little more closely at these women, I realized a couple of things: a) they were women, and b) they were slightly not-so-young women belonging to different (or maybe similar) ethnic minorities. So their general loudness could be attributed to the fact that they weren't raised in the same culture and society in which I was raised. Or (and this is my scarier conclusion) it could be inherent in the gender. So when I reach the age of not-so-young, I could naturally end up being a loud, obnoxious blurter.
Or perhaps not. Looking around, all of the younger volunteers had no questions whatsoever. Maybe I'll be a member of a silent generation. Not likely, but still just as scary.
"When I grow up I'll be stable, when I grow up I'll turn the tables"
Sunday, August 20, 2006
No Time For Observation
It's been such a hectic time, I haven't had a chance to blog about the little things I've noticed or thought about from time to time. Such as:
When I drive down the Gardiner with my windows down, I often get a wonderfully huge whiff of freshly baked cookies when I pass the Mr. Christie plant. Now that there are so many condos being built in that area, I thought at first that these people were so lucky to get that great smell all the time. But then I realized a couple of drawbacks: 1) having to smell that every day could potentially turn people off from cookies, and 2) the water treatment plant is also nearby, and I'm sure on certain days the odours from that place could be extremely potent as well, or at the worst, be mixed together with the cookie smell. That could lead to the possibility of people associating cookies with sewage, or vice versa. And that's just messed up.
My brother and I were driving down a street populated with strip malls, and one of them contained an adult entertainment store with a sign in the window that said "Enter at the rear". And I honestly couldn't help laughing at how well suited that sign could be for a particular business. If you're into that kind of thing.
I was on the subway last night, sitting across from a woman with two young girls: one of them looked to be about six years old, the other was around the age of ten. I didn't pay any attention to what she was saying to them until I noticed that she was talking to the ten year old as though she were an adult. She was discussing life at university, using words like "allocation" and "non-resident". I instantly thought: "That is exactly what I'm going to end up doing to my child." How do I know this? Because I've already done it to other children.
I've finally figured out why I'm so interested and strangely eager to be a volunteer, first with dragonboat racing, and now with the upcoming film festival. I relish being behind the scenes. I want to know what's going on while other things are going on. I love having access to places that the general public can't go simply by wearing a special shirt and flashing a laminated badge. In other words, I am a nosy busybody. And here I thought I was just a nice person.
By the way, the film fest is fast approaching. As a patron for the past 5+ years, I can tell you it's always a good time. Partake if you can! I'll see you there! (You'll recognize me as the one with the laminated badge)
"The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on"
When I drive down the Gardiner with my windows down, I often get a wonderfully huge whiff of freshly baked cookies when I pass the Mr. Christie plant. Now that there are so many condos being built in that area, I thought at first that these people were so lucky to get that great smell all the time. But then I realized a couple of drawbacks: 1) having to smell that every day could potentially turn people off from cookies, and 2) the water treatment plant is also nearby, and I'm sure on certain days the odours from that place could be extremely potent as well, or at the worst, be mixed together with the cookie smell. That could lead to the possibility of people associating cookies with sewage, or vice versa. And that's just messed up.
My brother and I were driving down a street populated with strip malls, and one of them contained an adult entertainment store with a sign in the window that said "Enter at the rear". And I honestly couldn't help laughing at how well suited that sign could be for a particular business. If you're into that kind of thing.
I was on the subway last night, sitting across from a woman with two young girls: one of them looked to be about six years old, the other was around the age of ten. I didn't pay any attention to what she was saying to them until I noticed that she was talking to the ten year old as though she were an adult. She was discussing life at university, using words like "allocation" and "non-resident". I instantly thought: "That is exactly what I'm going to end up doing to my child." How do I know this? Because I've already done it to other children.
I've finally figured out why I'm so interested and strangely eager to be a volunteer, first with dragonboat racing, and now with the upcoming film festival. I relish being behind the scenes. I want to know what's going on while other things are going on. I love having access to places that the general public can't go simply by wearing a special shirt and flashing a laminated badge. In other words, I am a nosy busybody. And here I thought I was just a nice person.
By the way, the film fest is fast approaching. As a patron for the past 5+ years, I can tell you it's always a good time. Partake if you can! I'll see you there! (You'll recognize me as the one with the laminated badge)
"The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on"
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Makes the Night Come Alive With Freshness
So, if you like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain, as the song goes, then you'll love Puerto Rico, because you'll get plenty of both. Yes friends, I have returned from the Isla de Encanto, a little crisp and slightly injured (long story) but otherwise wishing that I could have stayed longer.
So many stories...but I'll save the "what I did on my summer vacation" version of the story for future cocktail parties. Here are a couple of observations and general conclusions from me:
- Burger King became the landmark for every place we needed to go. Where's our highway exit? When do we get off the bus? Where is the nearest bank? All we had to do was look for the Burger King. Thankfully we never set foot in one.
- The name Steve kept showing up as often as the Burger Kings. The manager of our guesthouse looked so familiar to me when I met him, and then I noticed that he looked exactly like an older version of Steve from "Sex in the City". I learned later on that Esteban (the manager's name) is actually the Spanish version of Steven, which I found hilariously creepy. We also met a fellow tourist named Steve, who was staying at our bed and breakfast, and then later showed up in our kayaking group.
- Speaking of kayaking, anyone who's reading this must go to a bioluminescent bay at least once. The coolness cannot be conveyed in words or photos (because it doesn't show up in regular photos). Sticking your hand in the water and watching the water glow is just amazing.
- A lot of pharmaceutical companies have manufacturing facilities there. Interesting...
- The photo above is the sunrise from the door of our room in Ceiba. The sky is a little hazy, isn't it? The reason is African dust. That's right, it's actually DUST FROM AFRICA.
- I don't think I'll ever be as excited again about alcohol as I was when we were in Casa Bacardi, the world's largest rum distillery. A very lengthy free tour, two free drinks, and so much cheap alcohol that I didn't know where to start. Interesting point: Bacardi 151° is not allowed on airlines because it's flammable. Perhaps the fact that it's 75% alcohol might have something to do with it.
"Don't you see baby, así es perfecto"
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Waiting for Laundry
It's finally here...Puerto Rico Eve. My suitcase is open on the floor, it's almost midnight, and I'm waiting for my laundry. My dad has restricted my mom to doing laundry at ten o'clock at night or on weekends, when it's cheaper somehow. Go figure. And it makes packing in advance a little difficult.
So I'm as ready as I'll ever be. My stomach is acting like it does when I'm about to speak in public, which is weird. But I'll take it as a sure sign that I'm excited. Not that I needed a sign or anything.
Almost positive that I haven't forgotten anything.
Remember not to eat the ice cubes.
Hasta luego.
"I can't live, I can't breathe unless you do this with me"
So I'm as ready as I'll ever be. My stomach is acting like it does when I'm about to speak in public, which is weird. But I'll take it as a sure sign that I'm excited. Not that I needed a sign or anything.
Almost positive that I haven't forgotten anything.
Remember not to eat the ice cubes.
Hasta luego.
"I can't live, I can't breathe unless you do this with me"
Thursday, June 15, 2006
"I know a genuine Panaphonics when I see it"
My brother was browsing through the weekend flyers when he came across an ad for a portable DVD player that was on sale for some ridiculous price, like $20. I asked him what brand it was. He stared at the flyer for several seconds before he said, "It's a Magnasonic". I didn't believe him at first, but it was true. And then I couldn't stop laughing.
I've noticed (as I'm sure you have) that the general number of interesting things that happen to me is reflected pretty accurately in the frequency of my blogging. So yes, May was a surprisingly boring month for me.
And now, all the exciting stuff is happening to people around me. Some people are graduating. Some people are finally getting engaged. Some people have asked me to be a bridesmaid...okay one exciting thing has happened to me.
Anyone have any bridesmaid advice?
"Find yourself a girl and settle down, live a simple life in a quiet town, steady as she goes"
I've noticed (as I'm sure you have) that the general number of interesting things that happen to me is reflected pretty accurately in the frequency of my blogging. So yes, May was a surprisingly boring month for me.
And now, all the exciting stuff is happening to people around me. Some people are graduating. Some people are finally getting engaged. Some people have asked me to be a bridesmaid...okay one exciting thing has happened to me.
Anyone have any bridesmaid advice?
"Find yourself a girl and settle down, live a simple life in a quiet town, steady as she goes"
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Apparently, I'm "It"
I've been "tagged" by an old friend of mine, Blue Trillium. I don't normally do these things but this one is interesting and relatively short, so I guess I'll give it a shot.
Four Interesting Jobs:
1. A Tim Hortons employee (for two unpaid nights)
2. A Parks & Rec summer volunteer (ach! too many wee ones!)
3. A project engineering co-op, working with sensors for the International Space Station
4. A good-natured coat-rack (that's an on-going gig)
Four Places I've Lived/Stayed:
1. Toronto (forever!)
2. Waterloo (ah, the good old days of one-pot dinners and never-ending landlord disputes)
3. Tours, France (staying with a friend)
4. Copenhagen, Denmark (staying with a different friend)
Four Countries to Visit: (only four??)
1. Spain
2. Guatamala
3. Ireland
4. Fiji
Four Favourite Dishes:
1. Crème brulée
2. Raspberry ______ (fill-in-the-blank)
3. My mom's chicken and rice
4. Scrambled eggs
Four Sites I Visit Daily:
1. Ucomics (need my "Heart of the City" fix ever since they stopped running it in the paper)
2. All of my friends' blogs
3. Environment Canada's Weather Office
4. Google (I'm always looking something up)
Four Things I Will Never Forget:
1. My family
2. My friends
3. All the little people...
4. My life (I hope)
Four Things I Wish I Realized Earlier in Life:
1. Everything always works out in the end, so quit worrying
2. Love hurts
3. Growing old is nothing to be scared of
4. I don't look good with short hair
Four Next Bloggers Tagged:
1. Alderman
2. A Day in the Life of KaRe^BeAr
3. hyc.blog (because you need a new entry)
4. Prove My Hypothesis (because you REALLY need a new entry)
Four Interesting Jobs:
1. A Tim Hortons employee (for two unpaid nights)
2. A Parks & Rec summer volunteer (ach! too many wee ones!)
3. A project engineering co-op, working with sensors for the International Space Station
4. A good-natured coat-rack (that's an on-going gig)
Four Places I've Lived/Stayed:
1. Toronto (forever!)
2. Waterloo (ah, the good old days of one-pot dinners and never-ending landlord disputes)
3. Tours, France (staying with a friend)
4. Copenhagen, Denmark (staying with a different friend)
Four Countries to Visit: (only four??)
1. Spain
2. Guatamala
3. Ireland
4. Fiji
Four Favourite Dishes:
1. Crème brulée
2. Raspberry ______ (fill-in-the-blank)
3. My mom's chicken and rice
4. Scrambled eggs
Four Sites I Visit Daily:
1. Ucomics (need my "Heart of the City" fix ever since they stopped running it in the paper)
2. All of my friends' blogs
3. Environment Canada's Weather Office
4. Google (I'm always looking something up)
Four Things I Will Never Forget:
1. My family
2. My friends
3. All the little people...
4. My life (I hope)
Four Things I Wish I Realized Earlier in Life:
1. Everything always works out in the end, so quit worrying
2. Love hurts
3. Growing old is nothing to be scared of
4. I don't look good with short hair
Four Next Bloggers Tagged:
1. Alderman
2. A Day in the Life of KaRe^BeAr
3. hyc.blog (because you need a new entry)
4. Prove My Hypothesis (because you REALLY need a new entry)
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Your Vote Makes A Difference
So, the first installment of "What Do You Think?" here on APG wasn't as overwhelmingly successful as I had hoped. But in the end, the (lone) voice of my audience has spoken, and I'm pleased to announce that:
I'M GOING TO PUERTO RICO!
I'll be going with a couple of good friends for a week in July. I can't wait. Of course, Guatamala was intriguing to me too, but with only a week budgeted for an exotic adventure, I felt it wouldn't be enough time. Especially when I looked more closely and realized that if I'm already in the area, I should also check out Belize, El Salvador, and Honduras. Costa Rica would be fun too, but I've already been there.
So, why Puerto Rico in the first place?
1) I don't plan on lying on a beach at an all-inclusive resort for an entire week;
2) it's small enough that a week would probably cover most of the entire country;
3) it's a US commonwealth, so I don't even need to bring a passport (yet);
4) I get to practice my español;
5) it's low season in July (read: cheap!);
6) I could potentially converse with aliens (Arecibo!).
On the dicey side, it is also hurricane season, but I have a good feeling that everything will work out just fine. Statistically, I bring good weather with me on vacation (last year's Copenhagen experience is my prime example where it was cold and wet before I arrived, brilliantly sunny and unseasonably warm for the three days I was there, and reverted back to cold and wet after I left).
T minus two and a half months and counting.
"Vacation, all I ever wanted, vacation, had to get away"
I'M GOING TO PUERTO RICO!
I'll be going with a couple of good friends for a week in July. I can't wait. Of course, Guatamala was intriguing to me too, but with only a week budgeted for an exotic adventure, I felt it wouldn't be enough time. Especially when I looked more closely and realized that if I'm already in the area, I should also check out Belize, El Salvador, and Honduras. Costa Rica would be fun too, but I've already been there.
So, why Puerto Rico in the first place?
1) I don't plan on lying on a beach at an all-inclusive resort for an entire week;
2) it's small enough that a week would probably cover most of the entire country;
3) it's a US commonwealth, so I don't even need to bring a passport (yet);
4) I get to practice my español;
5) it's low season in July (read: cheap!);
6) I could potentially converse with aliens (Arecibo!).
On the dicey side, it is also hurricane season, but I have a good feeling that everything will work out just fine. Statistically, I bring good weather with me on vacation (last year's Copenhagen experience is my prime example where it was cold and wet before I arrived, brilliantly sunny and unseasonably warm for the three days I was there, and reverted back to cold and wet after I left).
T minus two and a half months and counting.
"Vacation, all I ever wanted, vacation, had to get away"
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Carnage
In the past week or so, I've heard four different car accident stories. What is going on here?
- A week ago Friday, the weather was pretty bad and one of my co-workers was sort of in a rush to get home. She lost control of her car while turning left but luckily only crashed into the guard rail and didn't hit any other cars. She was slightly freaked out, this being her first car accident, and it was lucky that another co-worker was still at the office and was able to go and help her out. Thankfully her weekend wasn't ruined and she was still able to drive to Chicago on Saturday.
- A friend of mine just started a new job in Hamilton. Since she hasn't found a place to stay in town, she has to commute from Scarborough every day. Monday was her first day at work, and on her way home she was involved in a minor fender-bender. She was the one who rear-ended the guy's van, and she agreed to pay him cash and not get insurance involved, but it was pretty sketchy since the damage to her car and the damage to the guy's back bumper didn't exactly match...
- I had my corporate orientation on Tuesday. Part of the day's activities was having lunch with upper management. In the middle of lunch, the President's cell phone rang. His wife had just been t-boned at an intersection to the extent that it sounded like her car rolled over. She called him after she called 911, which seemed to indicate that she was okay, but naturally he left the lunch immediately. I heard later on that they took her to the hospital to get her checked out but she was fine.
- My brother's friend was at our house on Friday to help him get his kart set up. He had parked his little red car on the street so that they would have the whole driveway as well as the garage to work on the kart. Across the street, our neighbour had visitors and they were backing their van out and ended up hitting his car. These little old ladies were about to take off as if nothing had happened, but my brother and his friend came out of the garage (having heard the sound of crunching metal) and chased them down. Everything I know about this incident is hearsay, but our neighbour seemed to insinuate that the whole thing was his fault for parking on the street. I've pretty much lost all respect for her. Her husband was apparently cool about the whole thing and seemed to be embarrassed about the scene she was making. Good thing the damages weren't too costly.
Please friends, take care of yourselves on the road. This is a disturbing trend to me, and I don't want to have to write about anything worse than these incidents.
"I felt the earth on Monday, it moved beneath my feet"
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Expensive Habit
The location of my not-so-new-anymore job is right at the edge of suburbia. Far enough that, as I drive home on the highway, I pass a service centre. Everyone knows that service centres exist for people who have poor gas management skills, who are in far too much of a hurry to get their vacation started, or who are too timid to venture off the highway even for a few kilometres to look for a normal gas station. In short, we all know that these places will gouge you silly.
I've been working for about two months now, and I've noticed that every day on my way home, there is a dark green van filling up at the exact same pump at the service centre. First of all, it surprises me greatly that there are people who really use it. If they had just gotten off the highway at the previous exit 500 meters behind them, they would have been staring at a gas station (and it's even the same company). But that van puzzles me the most. Do they really need gas that badly? Are they really that unwilling to fully exit the highway to find a normal gas station? Do they have extra money to burn? Could they give some of that money to me and I'll go get some cheaper gas for them?
I looked over at the station today as I passed and was initially shocked that the pump was vanless (my little story would be ruined!). But then I saw it parked at another pump. I guess even creatures of habit need a little variety.
Before I close off, I wonder how many of you noticed the gigantic photo of the craziest looking condominium on the front page of the Toronto Star today? Well, that thing is going to be my new neighbour. For the record, I'd like to say that I didn't vote for it. I went with the most normal-looking design that would have matched the first three towers. Yeah, it's kind of typical, but it was the one I was the most willing to stare at every day. I have to admit, the "Marilyn" is slightly better than four of the other five designs that were being considered (I would have been pretty peeved if the "Spiderweb" or the "Jenga" buildings had won), and I'm slowly getting used to it. I am extremely curious to see what the floorplans will look like.
"Save your strength, save your wasted time, there's no way that I want you to be left behind"
I've been working for about two months now, and I've noticed that every day on my way home, there is a dark green van filling up at the exact same pump at the service centre. First of all, it surprises me greatly that there are people who really use it. If they had just gotten off the highway at the previous exit 500 meters behind them, they would have been staring at a gas station (and it's even the same company). But that van puzzles me the most. Do they really need gas that badly? Are they really that unwilling to fully exit the highway to find a normal gas station? Do they have extra money to burn? Could they give some of that money to me and I'll go get some cheaper gas for them?
I looked over at the station today as I passed and was initially shocked that the pump was vanless (my little story would be ruined!). But then I saw it parked at another pump. I guess even creatures of habit need a little variety.
Before I close off, I wonder how many of you noticed the gigantic photo of the craziest looking condominium on the front page of the Toronto Star today? Well, that thing is going to be my new neighbour. For the record, I'd like to say that I didn't vote for it. I went with the most normal-looking design that would have matched the first three towers. Yeah, it's kind of typical, but it was the one I was the most willing to stare at every day. I have to admit, the "Marilyn" is slightly better than four of the other five designs that were being considered (I would have been pretty peeved if the "Spiderweb" or the "Jenga" buildings had won), and I'm slowly getting used to it. I am extremely curious to see what the floorplans will look like.
"Save your strength, save your wasted time, there's no way that I want you to be left behind"