Dear Neighbour Who Lives Almost Directly Across From Me:
I never liked you. Ever. When I was 9, you stopped me when I was riding my bike up and down the street and began lecturing me in broken English, for riding my bike too fast. Broken English isn't even the right way to describe it. Maybe more like shattered-into-a-million-pieces. Not that there's anything wrong with being foreign, but if you're gonna lecture someone who only speaks English, you should take into consideration that they probably won't understand anything you're saying. Your incredibly thick accent didn't help either. Frankly, I can't even be certain you were yelling at me for riding my bike too fast. For all I know, you could have been complimenting me on what a nice BMX bike I had (it was pretty bitchin', I know), but your tone indicated otherwise.
Oh, and more importantly, I don't know where you got off thinking you could just start yelling at a kid for riding his bike too fast, especially if he's not your kid and he wasn't riding anywhere near you. It was very cunty of you.
You also yelled at my friends and I from the window of your bedroom for skateboarding on the street when I was 15. Because you were trying to take a nap. I understand it can be a little loud, but it was 3 in the afternoon and I've heard lawnmowers louder than the noise we were making. The garbage truck that comes every Wednesday morning is 5 times louder than we were, but I don't see you yelling at the garbage men. And we weren't yelling or causing a ruckus either. We were just trying to ollie over a manhole. And frankly, you could have just come down and asked us nicely instead of yelling at us from your window. But we politely obliged.
Today, while I was having a smoke on the edge of my driveway, you rushed out and began calling me over. It would have been nice if you had waved me over and said "Excuse me" instead of simply "Hey!" but I'll let it slide and chalk it up to your broken English, although I've met plenty of other foreign immigrants with manners. You called me over to simply point out that there were leaves on my lawn and began ordering me around. I couldn't believe my ears; you were ordering me or my dad or just us in general to rake our lawn. Our lawn. There are so many things wrong with that, that I can't even begin to explain it all to you. Quite simply, you're out of your fucking mind. I don't even live at my parents' place anymore, so while I could have easily told you to go fuck yourself (not that you would have understood), I didn't. I raked it, something my dad was going to shortly do. I did it myself because my dad had literally been bitching about another one of our neighbours less than 5 minutes ago and if I had told him what you just did, he would have gone postal. I don't even live with my parents anymore, but I don't want them to have beef with anyone on the street, because it's awkward as hell if you have to see them every day. Since you were watching me the entire time I raked the lawn, I'm sure you saw that I only did a half-assed job.
Anyway, the good news for me is that while I didn't tell my dad about it, I did talk to my mom about it. She's given me her blessing to tell you to go fuck yourself (again, not that you would understand); she's ready to throw down and if you had seen how badly she beat me as a kid, you'll know she doesn't fuck around. So go ahead, stick your nose into our business one more time. I dare you.
Your hateful neighbour,
Darren
P.S. Stop standing at your door all the fucking time. Do you realize how fucking creepy it is for me to go out for a smoke and find you standing there staring at me every single time?
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Shooting myself in the foot
During my second year in the program, I would randomly insert words like "penis" while writing my class notes to mess with a classmate who would sometimes look over my shoulder to copy off me.
And now I have to study my own notes. Damn it.
And now I have to study my own notes. Damn it.
Last day until...
My big exam is tomorrow; I feel like a deathrow convict whose execution is tomorrow. I can try and remain as stoic as I want, but really, I could shit my pants any second. I'm far from what I would call prepared. I'm usually good with tests and exams, but this one's a little different from others in the sense that:
-for certain parts of the exam, there'll be someone with a clipboard scrutinizing every move I make and every word that comes out of my mouth (note to self: stop saying "Fuck" or "Shit" under my breath). Like that's gonna help with my nerves.
-there's a very high passing rate for this exam. I really don't want to be one of those idiots who didn't pass.
-like I mentioned before, this exam is costing me $1300 that I don't even have. I'd hate to pay that again if I fail and have to re-do it (I'll have to pay even more next time; the fee goes up in 2012).
Thanks to everyone who volunteered to help me out or even gave me encouragement. Let's hope I don't shit my pants tomorrow.
-for certain parts of the exam, there'll be someone with a clipboard scrutinizing every move I make and every word that comes out of my mouth (note to self: stop saying "Fuck" or "Shit" under my breath). Like that's gonna help with my nerves.
-there's a very high passing rate for this exam. I really don't want to be one of those idiots who didn't pass.
-like I mentioned before, this exam is costing me $1300 that I don't even have. I'd hate to pay that again if I fail and have to re-do it (I'll have to pay even more next time; the fee goes up in 2012).
Thanks to everyone who volunteered to help me out or even gave me encouragement. Let's hope I don't shit my pants tomorrow.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Correction
Okay, so if you're reading this and you haven't read the entry below...read that first. Go ahead. I'll wait.
Done? No? Jeez, what are you, illiterate? I said I'd wait, but I don't have all day.
Done? Good.
So this is an addenum to the previous entry; the contact-lens-fitting-party is now also a housewarming party. Mixing business with pleasure is what I do best. I feel kind of lame having a housewarming party nearly two months after I've moved in, but at the insistence of certain friends and to make the contact lens fitting less lame, I've caved.
If you really think about it, nothing's actually changed. Friends will be over and I'll still stick contact lenses in their eyes. Really, it's just the addition of certain vices and libations that make it a housewarming party. And to be honest, I was gonna indulge in those afterward anyway. Alcohol makes everything better, right?
Done? No? Jeez, what are you, illiterate? I said I'd wait, but I don't have all day.
Done? Good.
So this is an addenum to the previous entry; the contact-lens-fitting-party is now also a housewarming party. Mixing business with pleasure is what I do best. I feel kind of lame having a housewarming party nearly two months after I've moved in, but at the insistence of certain friends and to make the contact lens fitting less lame, I've caved.
If you really think about it, nothing's actually changed. Friends will be over and I'll still stick contact lenses in their eyes. Really, it's just the addition of certain vices and libations that make it a housewarming party. And to be honest, I was gonna indulge in those afterward anyway. Alcohol makes everything better, right?
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Have courage, will practice
So studying's been going pretty shitty. Thankfully, that's okay! It turns out I was over studying, despite the fact that I've maybe only studied a total of 2.5 hours. I got a hold of the exam outline earlier this week and discovered, it's 99% skill-based. Meaning no theory. Which is what I've been sort-of studying. Meaning I wasted 2.5 hours of my life, when it could have been better used to...do other stuff. No, I don't know what other stuff. What are you, the time management police or something?
But just because I don't have to study anymore doesn't mean I don't need to practice. I'm pretty well covered for most of the exam, but there's one little part that I'm having trouble with: insertion and removal of hard contact lenses on a patient. They're not like soft contacts in that you can just stick `em in and pluck them out at will. Well, the sticking in part is the same, but taking them out is a whole other thing in itself. It involves a particular method you have to use. It's not difficult, but it is tricky. And it gets even trickier with certain types of people (ASIANS!). I used to be pretty decent at it, but for some reason, I became increasingly nervous. By the end of it, on my final exam, I choked and the examiner had to end up doing it for me. And since then, I haven't touched them. So my skills on that section are rusty to the say the least.
Which is where you, my favoritest person in the world, come in. I need to brush up on my hard contact skills and I can't do it without people to practice on. I've been asking all my friends to come over next Sunday (October 9th) so that I can practice on everyone; I need as many people as I can so I can get used to any type of person and any type of eye (including ASIANS!).
But I don't want to feel like I've conned anyone, so I should warn you the shit ain't comfortable. It doesn't hurt, though. Ever have something fly right into your eye? Like a tiny speck of dirt or dust? It feels like that, only it feels like that all the time. Again, it doesn't hurt, but chances are the first words coming out of your mouth will be "Okay, get it out. Now. Getitoutgetitoutgetitout etc." I'm not trying to scare anyone; it's just so you know what to expect. It won't be comfortable, but it's not like I'm gonna leave it in your eye for a few hours. As soon as it's in, I'm gonna take it out. But make sure you stay calm; the more you squirm and whine, the harder it is for me to take out the lens and the longer it'll stay in your eye.
Obviously, I wouldn't ask for help from my friends without doing something in return. So, after my exam, I'll take everyone out for dinner. I don't know if it'll be everyone all at once or if it'll be in small groups or if I'll have to end up taking each person out one by one, but we can figure that out later. The point is, you're getting free food. At the place of your choice, with no budget restraints. So if you're feeling brave and have my contact info, let me know if you're in (I don't know why I'm doing this; just about everyone I wanted to ask has already been asked). I promise I won't completely blind you.
But just because I don't have to study anymore doesn't mean I don't need to practice. I'm pretty well covered for most of the exam, but there's one little part that I'm having trouble with: insertion and removal of hard contact lenses on a patient. They're not like soft contacts in that you can just stick `em in and pluck them out at will. Well, the sticking in part is the same, but taking them out is a whole other thing in itself. It involves a particular method you have to use. It's not difficult, but it is tricky. And it gets even trickier with certain types of people (ASIANS!). I used to be pretty decent at it, but for some reason, I became increasingly nervous. By the end of it, on my final exam, I choked and the examiner had to end up doing it for me. And since then, I haven't touched them. So my skills on that section are rusty to the say the least.
Which is where you, my favoritest person in the world, come in. I need to brush up on my hard contact skills and I can't do it without people to practice on. I've been asking all my friends to come over next Sunday (October 9th) so that I can practice on everyone; I need as many people as I can so I can get used to any type of person and any type of eye (including ASIANS!).
But I don't want to feel like I've conned anyone, so I should warn you the shit ain't comfortable. It doesn't hurt, though. Ever have something fly right into your eye? Like a tiny speck of dirt or dust? It feels like that, only it feels like that all the time. Again, it doesn't hurt, but chances are the first words coming out of your mouth will be "Okay, get it out. Now. Getitoutgetitoutgetitout etc." I'm not trying to scare anyone; it's just so you know what to expect. It won't be comfortable, but it's not like I'm gonna leave it in your eye for a few hours. As soon as it's in, I'm gonna take it out. But make sure you stay calm; the more you squirm and whine, the harder it is for me to take out the lens and the longer it'll stay in your eye.
Obviously, I wouldn't ask for help from my friends without doing something in return. So, after my exam, I'll take everyone out for dinner. I don't know if it'll be everyone all at once or if it'll be in small groups or if I'll have to end up taking each person out one by one, but we can figure that out later. The point is, you're getting free food. At the place of your choice, with no budget restraints. So if you're feeling brave and have my contact info, let me know if you're in (I don't know why I'm doing this; just about everyone I wanted to ask has already been asked). I promise I won't completely blind you.
Friday, September 23, 2011
The Scarborough Computer
Back in 2007, my PC died. It died a slow death; it got slower and slower, then kept crashing and eventually, it couldn't even boot up. I had a reputation in my household for killing every single computer I touched, so I didn't bother to tell my parents. I simply moved on to using my Macbook all the time. I'd occasionally use my mom's computer if I needed to write essays or assignments (my Macbook doesn't have a decent word processor and I was too cheap to buy a copy of Word for it), which would always result in my dad asking me why I didn't use my own computer. I'd never have an answer for him. Surprisingly, he was never able to put two and two together, but I preferred it that way.
Shortly after I moved out, my dad took it upon himself to clean out my room. It's a huge task to take on; I've been trying to clean my room for years, but I'd always give up halfway through because there was simply too much shit. Plus, I'm a pack rat, so I couldn't bring myself to throw out a lot of stuff. But since my shit has no sentimental value to my dad, he was able to plow through everything. My dad's hella proud of the job he did, and frankly, so am I. My room actually has an echo now; there used to be so much shit in my room, everything absorbed the sound. It was like being in a vacuum.
I guess the whole "fresh start" thing made me decide to give my PC another go. No dice; I was met with a blank screen. But I couldn't turn it off, because the power button apparently only turns on the computer, not off. So I hit the reset button. And for some reason, it worked!
Or rather, it works as well as a computer that hasn't been used in 4 years can possibly work. It's slow as shit, but what I'm happy about is the fact that I managed to retrieve files I thought were lost forever. It's funny to see the weird shit I saved or screen captured...
A screen capture from a video chat I had with Owen. He was wearing his parents' coat and hat and pretended to be a pimp.
Owen ain't down with misery (misery ain't pimp enough).
I laughed at this 4+ years ago and I still find it funny.
Jeff pieced together a panoramic shot (with me in every frame) of Kennedy Park. You gotta click on it to see the thing in full size, though.
SB.
FAT COCK.
And apparently, I like fat cocks.
And that's the note I'm gonna leave off on. Fat cocks.
Shortly after I moved out, my dad took it upon himself to clean out my room. It's a huge task to take on; I've been trying to clean my room for years, but I'd always give up halfway through because there was simply too much shit. Plus, I'm a pack rat, so I couldn't bring myself to throw out a lot of stuff. But since my shit has no sentimental value to my dad, he was able to plow through everything. My dad's hella proud of the job he did, and frankly, so am I. My room actually has an echo now; there used to be so much shit in my room, everything absorbed the sound. It was like being in a vacuum.
I guess the whole "fresh start" thing made me decide to give my PC another go. No dice; I was met with a blank screen. But I couldn't turn it off, because the power button apparently only turns on the computer, not off. So I hit the reset button. And for some reason, it worked!
Or rather, it works as well as a computer that hasn't been used in 4 years can possibly work. It's slow as shit, but what I'm happy about is the fact that I managed to retrieve files I thought were lost forever. It's funny to see the weird shit I saved or screen captured...
A screen capture from a video chat I had with Owen. He was wearing his parents' coat and hat and pretended to be a pimp.
Owen ain't down with misery (misery ain't pimp enough).
I laughed at this 4+ years ago and I still find it funny.
Jeff pieced together a panoramic shot (with me in every frame) of Kennedy Park. You gotta click on it to see the thing in full size, though.
SB.
FAT COCK.
And apparently, I like fat cocks.And that's the note I'm gonna leave off on. Fat cocks.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
New Experiences at Work!
I got hit on the other day. By a dude (not that there's anything wrong with that). An old dude (still nothing wrong with that). Normally, I'd be flattered if anyone hits on me, regardless of sex. Problem is all the staff already know who he is and he's garnered quite a reputation for being a creepy old pervert (he's already hit on two other guys, but more on that later).
He purchased a pair of glasses and while I was sitting down with him to go over his lens options and the price breakdown, he asked me if I was single. Then he began talking to me about the "Gotcha!" prank, which apparently nothing more than walking up to a guy, grabbing his nuts and saying "Gotcha!". Yeah, I have no idea how that's funny either. To make sure I got the picture, he began grabbing his own nuts. Repeatedly. You know, in case I happened to miss it the first 5 times he did it. Then he moved in real close and put his hand on mine and asked if I'd be grossed out or if I'd find it funny if it was done to me. I told him I'd find it funny*, just so I wouldn't alienate him. It's too bad he kept his hand on top of mine for an uncomfortably long time. Right as I was about to pull away, he finally took his hand back. If you've ever wondered "What could I do to creep Darren out so bad that he'll cry in the shower in the fetal position with his clothes on?", there's your answer.
I later related the story to Chris, my coworker. Turns out I got lucky; while I only got a visual demonstration, he and another guy that used to work with us both had a hands on demonstration with the whole nut-grabbing thing. I think from now on, I'll just let the ladies of the store handle him.
He purchased a pair of glasses and while I was sitting down with him to go over his lens options and the price breakdown, he asked me if I was single. Then he began talking to me about the "Gotcha!" prank, which apparently nothing more than walking up to a guy, grabbing his nuts and saying "Gotcha!". Yeah, I have no idea how that's funny either. To make sure I got the picture, he began grabbing his own nuts. Repeatedly. You know, in case I happened to miss it the first 5 times he did it. Then he moved in real close and put his hand on mine and asked if I'd be grossed out or if I'd find it funny if it was done to me. I told him I'd find it funny*, just so I wouldn't alienate him. It's too bad he kept his hand on top of mine for an uncomfortably long time. Right as I was about to pull away, he finally took his hand back. If you've ever wondered "What could I do to creep Darren out so bad that he'll cry in the shower in the fetal position with his clothes on?", there's your answer.
I later related the story to Chris, my coworker. Turns out I got lucky; while I only got a visual demonstration, he and another guy that used to work with us both had a hands on demonstration with the whole nut-grabbing thing. I think from now on, I'll just let the ladies of the store handle him.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Self-Imposed Exile
I've recently decided to try to isolate myself and buckle down in order to prepare for my opticianry license exam. It's lame and I'm definitely going to catch some shit from certain people for behavior that probably seems a bit excessive. And trust me, it's not like I enjoy it either; I fucking hate studying. But consider this:
1) The license exam cost $1300. That's $1300 that I don't even have. I had to borrow it from my mom and coupled with the money I owe my dad, it'll take months to pay it off. I can't afford to fail and redo it. And when I say I can't afford it, I mean in more terms than just money: time, energy, sanity, etc.
2) I'm pretty rusty with my opticianry stuff. More than rusty, really; my opticianry knowledge is eroding. Unlike when I was still in school, I need to do more than just skim through my notes at the last minute. True, I've been working all this time, but the majority of the stuff I've been taught isn't even really used on a day-to-day basis at work. I have more use for hairstyling tips at my job than I do opticianry (you gotta see my bedhead on a bad day. It's horrible).
That's it, really. Just those two reasons. It doesn't mean you won't see me from time to time; there are way too many birthdays in October for me to miss. Besides, I can only be isolated for so long before I start to go crazy (or go even more crazy). You guys will see more of me after October 23. Until then, try not to miss me too much (LOL).
1) The license exam cost $1300. That's $1300 that I don't even have. I had to borrow it from my mom and coupled with the money I owe my dad, it'll take months to pay it off. I can't afford to fail and redo it. And when I say I can't afford it, I mean in more terms than just money: time, energy, sanity, etc.
2) I'm pretty rusty with my opticianry stuff. More than rusty, really; my opticianry knowledge is eroding. Unlike when I was still in school, I need to do more than just skim through my notes at the last minute. True, I've been working all this time, but the majority of the stuff I've been taught isn't even really used on a day-to-day basis at work. I have more use for hairstyling tips at my job than I do opticianry (you gotta see my bedhead on a bad day. It's horrible).
That's it, really. Just those two reasons. It doesn't mean you won't see me from time to time; there are way too many birthdays in October for me to miss. Besides, I can only be isolated for so long before I start to go crazy (or go even more crazy). You guys will see more of me after October 23. Until then, try not to miss me too much (LOL).
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Master chef
So as far as cooking goes, this is what I've managed to make myself:
-eggs (fried and scrambled!)
-pasta
-toast
That's it. I may as well get used to eating just those 3 things anyway because I also found out yesterday that I'm in debt. My second step into adulthood. So if I look thinner than usual next time you see me, it's probably because I've only been eating toast and eggs (fried and scrambled!) for a month.
In equally uninteresting news, I've been digging these Lakai commercials. They're always fun and more creative than most commercials nowadays. I guess it helps that Spike Jonze is one of the owners of the company.
Oh, and there's a podcast coming...eventually. Whenever I get around to actually editing the thing. Which could take a while. Excited? Shut up. I know you're not, you jerk. Why would you even pretend to be? Man, you really piss me off sometimes. They were right about you.
-eggs (fried and scrambled!)
-pasta
-toast
That's it. I may as well get used to eating just those 3 things anyway because I also found out yesterday that I'm in debt. My second step into adulthood. So if I look thinner than usual next time you see me, it's probably because I've only been eating toast and eggs (fried and scrambled!) for a month.
In equally uninteresting news, I've been digging these Lakai commercials. They're always fun and more creative than most commercials nowadays. I guess it helps that Spike Jonze is one of the owners of the company.
Oh, and there's a podcast coming...eventually. Whenever I get around to actually editing the thing. Which could take a while. Excited? Shut up. I know you're not, you jerk. Why would you even pretend to be? Man, you really piss me off sometimes. They were right about you.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
5 days later
First, I wanna thank everyone that wished me a happy birthday last week. Honestly, I figured I would be able to count the number of people that remembered on one hand, with a few fingers left to spare. But even people that I rarely see/speak to (some who I didn't even think knew my birthday) were texting me. So I'm really moved that I got as many birthday wishes as I did.
I moved in on Friday, as planned. Aside from a few hiccups, it went really smoothly and now I'm all settled in.
Post-move in notes:
-it's really noisy on Friday and Saturday nights. No shit, right? But even from 11 floors up, it's a lot louder than I expected. Like, if I opened the balcony door on either of those nights and started talking to you, you wouldn't be able to hear me above the noise from outside.
-from all the people that I've bumped into in the building thus far, I feel like I really don't belong. They look like they belong downtown. I dress and act like someone transplanted a teenagers brain into a 28 year old's body.
-I am not used to using those coffee makers with the heating pad to keep the pot warm. I used mine for the first time on Saturday...only to get to work and panic, thinking I had left it on. I ended up pleading my boss for a one hour break and spending $100 on a round trip cab ride back to my place just to check if I really had left it on. I didn't. Better safe than sorry, right? I'd be more embarrassed if I had set the place on fire after only having moved in the previous day.
-I have like a billion channels! And I still barely watch television!
Lastly, I've resolved to learn how to cook. So this goes to all my friends: send me a recipe for something you've made before that you really like. Seriously. I'm kind of excited to try my hand at cooking. Real cooking, I mean. Hamburger Helper will always have a place in my heart, but on top of learning to cook, I've also resolved to not eat like a slob (unless I'm really tired or pressed for time).
Anyway. RECIPES! SEND! NOW!
I moved in on Friday, as planned. Aside from a few hiccups, it went really smoothly and now I'm all settled in.
Post-move in notes:
-it's really noisy on Friday and Saturday nights. No shit, right? But even from 11 floors up, it's a lot louder than I expected. Like, if I opened the balcony door on either of those nights and started talking to you, you wouldn't be able to hear me above the noise from outside.
-from all the people that I've bumped into in the building thus far, I feel like I really don't belong. They look like they belong downtown. I dress and act like someone transplanted a teenagers brain into a 28 year old's body.
-I am not used to using those coffee makers with the heating pad to keep the pot warm. I used mine for the first time on Saturday...only to get to work and panic, thinking I had left it on. I ended up pleading my boss for a one hour break and spending $100 on a round trip cab ride back to my place just to check if I really had left it on. I didn't. Better safe than sorry, right? I'd be more embarrassed if I had set the place on fire after only having moved in the previous day.
-I have like a billion channels! And I still barely watch television!
Lastly, I've resolved to learn how to cook. So this goes to all my friends: send me a recipe for something you've made before that you really like. Seriously. I'm kind of excited to try my hand at cooking. Real cooking, I mean. Hamburger Helper will always have a place in my heart, but on top of learning to cook, I've also resolved to not eat like a slob (unless I'm really tired or pressed for time).
Anyway. RECIPES! SEND! NOW!
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Thinner
About two weeks ago at work, a couple came in looking for glasses. They were regular customers, although it was the first time I had met them. Although someone else was helping them, the husband walked up to me and said with a slight Yiddish accent "Do you know what my grandmother would say if she saw you?"
My first thought was "I hate chinks", although I just cluelessly shrugged. He smiled and said "'Ya gotta eat!' My boy, if I turned you sideways, you'd disappear!". I've had my weight commented on before, but never by a stranger. Still, I couldn't help but laugh because he was such a nice guy and I knew he didn't mean anything by it.
During my lunch break today, I went to the cafe I always go to. I ordered my lunch, when suddenly, the guy in front of me turned around. It was same gentleman, with his wife. "YOU'RE EATING!" he exclaimed with a smile. Again, I couldn't help but laugh.
My first thought was "I hate chinks", although I just cluelessly shrugged. He smiled and said "'Ya gotta eat!' My boy, if I turned you sideways, you'd disappear!". I've had my weight commented on before, but never by a stranger. Still, I couldn't help but laugh because he was such a nice guy and I knew he didn't mean anything by it.
During my lunch break today, I went to the cafe I always go to. I ordered my lunch, when suddenly, the guy in front of me turned around. It was same gentleman, with his wife. "YOU'RE EATING!" he exclaimed with a smile. Again, I couldn't help but laugh.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
60 million Wongs make a right
As I walked into work today, my coworker Chris said "Congratulations man!" before I even broke my stride. I gave him a puzzled look.
"Uhhh...thanks. Congratulations on what?"
"Your coat of arms, man! Your crest!"
"...Huh?"
He kept mum, all the while sporting a goofy grin. As there was a customer in the store, he couldn't show me right away. As soon as the customer left, we ran to the computer.
Then he showed me this article. But if you're too lazy to read, here:
This here is the family crest for all Wongs in Canada. I think it's awesome that we get a crest, although if you ask me what I think of the crest itself...I'm really not digging it. My biggest point of contention with it is the damn panda bear, for reasons you can probably imagine.
What blows my mind is that there's even a Wong Association of Ontario and a Wong's National Convention of Ontario. What goes on at these conventions? Do people stand around with drinks in their hands, pat each other on the back and talk about how great it is to be a Wong? Because if so, I've been missing out.
Wing wang wong.
That is all.
"Uhhh...thanks. Congratulations on what?"
"Your coat of arms, man! Your crest!"
"...Huh?"
He kept mum, all the while sporting a goofy grin. As there was a customer in the store, he couldn't show me right away. As soon as the customer left, we ran to the computer.
Then he showed me this article. But if you're too lazy to read, here:
This here is the family crest for all Wongs in Canada. I think it's awesome that we get a crest, although if you ask me what I think of the crest itself...I'm really not digging it. My biggest point of contention with it is the damn panda bear, for reasons you can probably imagine.
What blows my mind is that there's even a Wong Association of Ontario and a Wong's National Convention of Ontario. What goes on at these conventions? Do people stand around with drinks in their hands, pat each other on the back and talk about how great it is to be a Wong? Because if so, I've been missing out.
Wing wang wong.
That is all.
Monday, August 1, 2011
The Big Take Over
I got to see the condo for the first time today. Due to a bit of luck (caused by really shitty circumstances), Lenny had a rental van and what was supposed to be moving in a few things became moving in the majority of big stuff that I have for my place.
I haven't done a photo post in a while, so I thought it'd be a good idea to bring my camera (with the broken LCD screen) to document the day.
This was 8:30 in the morning. I'm not used to being up and outside at this hour. Lenny seemed to have no problem with it though.
The deceivingly large van.
Pops had to ride in the back the whole time. I felt really bad for him.
The ride down consisted of a lot of bumpin' to Rihanna and Drake. Drake must have been on the radio like 6 times to and from the place.
Managed to cram all my shit into the freight elevator with no problems.
...and then my camera crapped out on me. Honest. So there aren't any pics of my place. That's what happens when you use a camera that's been destroyed. This is the part where you probably stop caring about this entry.
Anyway, I dig the place. It's more or less as sweet as I thought it would be. I still have a lot of work I need to put into it, so I don't plan on staying there overnight any time soon.
I wanna thank Len a ton, because not only did he help move my shit, he even stayed to help me put together my furniture (which was surprisingly fun/funny). All I did to show my gratitude was pay for his pho.
Thanks to Serge a lot as well, for helping me move additional stuff later on in the evening.
I'm tired as hell. Good night.
I haven't done a photo post in a while, so I thought it'd be a good idea to bring my camera (with the broken LCD screen) to document the day.
This was 8:30 in the morning. I'm not used to being up and outside at this hour. Lenny seemed to have no problem with it though.
The deceivingly large van.
Pops had to ride in the back the whole time. I felt really bad for him.
The ride down consisted of a lot of bumpin' to Rihanna and Drake. Drake must have been on the radio like 6 times to and from the place.
Managed to cram all my shit into the freight elevator with no problems....and then my camera crapped out on me. Honest. So there aren't any pics of my place. That's what happens when you use a camera that's been destroyed. This is the part where you probably stop caring about this entry.
Anyway, I dig the place. It's more or less as sweet as I thought it would be. I still have a lot of work I need to put into it, so I don't plan on staying there overnight any time soon.
I wanna thank Len a ton, because not only did he help move my shit, he even stayed to help me put together my furniture (which was surprisingly fun/funny). All I did to show my gratitude was pay for his pho.
Thanks to Serge a lot as well, for helping me move additional stuff later on in the evening.
I'm tired as hell. Good night.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Making it official
I'm pretty certain everyone knows by now but I figured I'd officially announce it (on a blog that no one visits anymore). I'm moving out. I'll be transplanting myself downtown. Officially, I'll have possession of the unit on August 1, but I probably won't move in until August 12. I originally wasn't expecting to move out until September or so, but the date kept getting bumped up. By the time it was finalized, my work schedule had been set in stone, so I gotta work around it.
Frankly, I'm not nearly as excited as I should be. I'm mainly just filled with anxieties, because it feels like I'm diving into the world of "being an adult" headfirst. I'm sure everyone else at my age has a grip on their lives, but I'm a few years behind as far as maturity and life experience goes. And that's even before I get into things like worrying about my budgeting, because that's a whole other world of pain.
Anyway, I'll probably have a small housewarming party once I'm settled in, but for now, I've got too much on my plate to worry about anything else.
Frankly, I'm not nearly as excited as I should be. I'm mainly just filled with anxieties, because it feels like I'm diving into the world of "being an adult" headfirst. I'm sure everyone else at my age has a grip on their lives, but I'm a few years behind as far as maturity and life experience goes. And that's even before I get into things like worrying about my budgeting, because that's a whole other world of pain.
Anyway, I'll probably have a small housewarming party once I'm settled in, but for now, I've got too much on my plate to worry about anything else.
Monday, July 11, 2011
What is this I don't even
I got an invite to join Google+ today. While I was messing around with it, I discovered in the photo albums that Google had taken the liberty of automatically gathering all the info associated with my account. That means all the photos from any blogs associated with my Google account automatically showed up.
There were a bunch of Mac photobooth pics that I don't remember at all. And these were kept on a blog that I don't remember keeping. The name of the blog rings a bell, but it doesn't exist anymore and if you asked me what I wrote about in that blog or when I had it, I wouldn't be able to tell you.
These were taken on the same night as the drunken podcast that Sergio, Matt and I did. You know, the one where Sergio pissed in a wine bottle then tried to convince us to hold it to feel how warm it was.
There were a bunch of Mac photobooth pics that I don't remember at all. And these were kept on a blog that I don't remember keeping. The name of the blog rings a bell, but it doesn't exist anymore and if you asked me what I wrote about in that blog or when I had it, I wouldn't be able to tell you.
These were taken on the same night as the drunken podcast that Sergio, Matt and I did. You know, the one where Sergio pissed in a wine bottle then tried to convince us to hold it to feel how warm it was.
Friday, July 8, 2011
They're back
My family's been gone on a roadtrip for the past two weeks and finally came back today. I've become comfortable enough to the point where I didn't even bother lying about having people over for a barbecue, which is saying a lot because if you think I'm uptight about the house, think of me as Uptight Lite compared to them. Still, I'm not so comfortable that I'd tell them I'd been hot-boxing the bathroom for over a week. Thank God the smell's gone.
One of the many things they brought back for me was a sticker. It reads 'The Ass Family' and has a drawing of a stick-figure family...
It's uncanny; the older brother is Lazy Ass. It's almost like they made that sticker for me.
One of the many things they brought back for me was a sticker. It reads 'The Ass Family' and has a drawing of a stick-figure family...
It's uncanny; the older brother is Lazy Ass. It's almost like they made that sticker for me.
Monday, July 4, 2011
BBQ
The checklist:
-people showed up. Check. More people showed up than I expected, so I get bonus points on that.
-risk life and limb to bring down patio chairs from the little storage space in my garage. Check.
-homemade burgers, courtesy of Mark. Check.
-awesome mustard for wieners and burgers. Check.
-flowers from Owen? Sure. Check.
-annoying my neighbors with my music. Check.
-one obligatory Sapporo for Serge. Check.
-broken BBQ grill, to double the amount of time it would take to cook everything. Check.
-roasted corn. Fuck yeah. Check!
-watermelon. Double fuck yeah. Check.
-sacrificial altar to cut the watermelon. Check.
-makeshift ashtray for the smokers. Check.
-enough cigarettes for myself. Nope.
-enough alcohol for everyone. Check.
-fancy-pants ice cream. Check.
-used up nearly every plate in my house. Check.
-no parents. Check.
Yes, I'd say the BBQ was a success. Thanks to everyone that showed up!
-people showed up. Check. More people showed up than I expected, so I get bonus points on that.
-risk life and limb to bring down patio chairs from the little storage space in my garage. Check.
-homemade burgers, courtesy of Mark. Check.
-awesome mustard for wieners and burgers. Check.
-flowers from Owen? Sure. Check.
-annoying my neighbors with my music. Check.
-one obligatory Sapporo for Serge. Check.
-broken BBQ grill, to double the amount of time it would take to cook everything. Check.
-roasted corn. Fuck yeah. Check!
-watermelon. Double fuck yeah. Check.
-sacrificial altar to cut the watermelon. Check.
-makeshift ashtray for the smokers. Check.
-enough cigarettes for myself. Nope.
-enough alcohol for everyone. Check.
-fancy-pants ice cream. Check.
-used up nearly every plate in my house. Check.
-no parents. Check.
Yes, I'd say the BBQ was a success. Thanks to everyone that showed up!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Flexibility
Right next to the store I work in, there's a hair salon. I don't know about the rest of the mall, but all of us guys that work/have worked in the store have taken a lot of notice of the girls that work in the salon. They're pretty hot.
About two weeks ago, one of them came in and I ended up helping her. She was incredibly cute and even more importantly, really nice. She wanted to get lenses put in a pair of frames that were of very dubious quality and very likely to break if we tried to replace the lenses (she bought the glasses for $10). It was quite a bit of trouble and I even got a lot of flack for it from my boss. In the end, it turned out well and she was so grateful that she stopped in the next day to personally thank me.
None of that has anything to do with anything aside from the fact that my coworker Karen mentioned to me that the girl also happened to be on 'So You Think You Can Dance?' this past week. I had no idea Aleksandra was so...flexible.
About two weeks ago, one of them came in and I ended up helping her. She was incredibly cute and even more importantly, really nice. She wanted to get lenses put in a pair of frames that were of very dubious quality and very likely to break if we tried to replace the lenses (she bought the glasses for $10). It was quite a bit of trouble and I even got a lot of flack for it from my boss. In the end, it turned out well and she was so grateful that she stopped in the next day to personally thank me.
None of that has anything to do with anything aside from the fact that my coworker Karen mentioned to me that the girl also happened to be on 'So You Think You Can Dance?' this past week. I had no idea Aleksandra was so...flexible.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Good ass job
So it's been 6 months since the 2010 project ended and I still haven't been able to retrieve all the rolls of film that I took. It looks like I genuinely misplaced/lost some of them, as opposed to recreating what it's like to lose it. I hope I find them before they expire.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
IOU a punch in the face
Last night, Owen and I went to see X-Men: First Class. As we were walking up to the theater, I told Owen that he would probably enjoy the opening sequence, because it used the theme song from the 90's cartoon (which if you don't think is epic, means you're dead on the inside), based on what I thought was a leaked clip that I had seen. I told him I couldn't remember if it was a legit one or if it was a fan-made one, but he was pumped nonetheless.
Right before the movie began, Owen leaned over and whispered "If they don't play the theme song, I'm gonna punch you in the face".
They did not play the opening sequence I had seen.
I went home and found the clip again and realized it is a fan-made intro. You know, because it clearly states so at the end, which I somehow conveniently forgot about.
So yeah, Owen owes me a face punch. Looks like my two years of wearing braces are about to go to waste.
Also, Kevin Bacon speaking German cracked me up.
Right before the movie began, Owen leaned over and whispered "If they don't play the theme song, I'm gonna punch you in the face".
They did not play the opening sequence I had seen.
I went home and found the clip again and realized it is a fan-made intro. You know, because it clearly states so at the end, which I somehow conveniently forgot about.
So yeah, Owen owes me a face punch. Looks like my two years of wearing braces are about to go to waste.
Also, Kevin Bacon speaking German cracked me up.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Mommy
Dear Amie,
Thank you for the following:
-for not doing that thing dad used to do. You know, when he'd stop, stare at me, let out a big sigh and then shake his head.
-for doing most of the cooking, because as much as I love dad, his cooking is horrible.
-for calling me at night when I'm out at night just to make sure I'm alive and that I'll get home okay. Certain friends rag on you for that, but fuck 'em.
-for putting up with all the weird phases I went though as a kid (I forgive you if you're the reason why my Marilyn Manson shirt went missing).
-for never complaining when I dump my dishes in the sink and walk off without washing them.
-for putting me through math school, Chinese school, Taekwondo lessons, piano lessons and swimming lessons, even though I hated nearly all of it.
-for nagging at me to take care of important stuff like looking for a job, making sure I graduate, taking care of bursaries and loans and getting my license. I fucking hate being nagged at, but the only reason why I ever did any of those things was just to shut you up, and if I didn't have that, I'd have never done any of it on my own.
-for not saying anything when I dated that one girl, even though you thought she was completely wrong for me.
-for teaching me to be self-sufficient. You know, even though you still cook my meals and wash my dishes.
-for pretending not to favor Gene over me (even though I know you and dad totally do).
-for picking up my dry cleaning.
Happy Birthday.
Love,
Your Greatest Son
Thank you for the following:
-for not doing that thing dad used to do. You know, when he'd stop, stare at me, let out a big sigh and then shake his head.
-for doing most of the cooking, because as much as I love dad, his cooking is horrible.
-for calling me at night when I'm out at night just to make sure I'm alive and that I'll get home okay. Certain friends rag on you for that, but fuck 'em.
-for putting up with all the weird phases I went though as a kid (I forgive you if you're the reason why my Marilyn Manson shirt went missing).
-for never complaining when I dump my dishes in the sink and walk off without washing them.
-for putting me through math school, Chinese school, Taekwondo lessons, piano lessons and swimming lessons, even though I hated nearly all of it.
-for nagging at me to take care of important stuff like looking for a job, making sure I graduate, taking care of bursaries and loans and getting my license. I fucking hate being nagged at, but the only reason why I ever did any of those things was just to shut you up, and if I didn't have that, I'd have never done any of it on my own.
-for not saying anything when I dated that one girl, even though you thought she was completely wrong for me.
-for teaching me to be self-sufficient. You know, even though you still cook my meals and wash my dishes.
-for pretending not to favor Gene over me (even though I know you and dad totally do).
-for picking up my dry cleaning.
Happy Birthday.
Love,
Your Greatest Son
Monday, May 30, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Ain't nuthin' but a G1 thang
So I got a G1 again. Just writing/saying that, I feel silly; how many people in Canada will ever say that they got their G1 license a second time?
The process was much smoother than our attempt on Thursday, in that both Mark and I had our shit together this time, although the wait was substantially longer (2 fuckin' hours!). All those jokes Americans make about the DMV apply to the DriveTest centers here. Mark killed time by criticizing people aloud, even if they were sitting two feet away from us. I, in turn, killed time by squirming uncomfortably at Mark criticizing people aloud and responding to him in what can only be described as half-whispering and half-mumbling. I like to call it "whumbling".
The vision test process was pretty questionable. For everyone else that remembers taking their G1, there's a part where after you stick your face in the little box, and after you've read lines of numbers, they flash some lights and you have to say which side it's flashing from: right or left. I know I have my stupid days, but I know which side is right and which side is left. There were a few instances where I could clearly see it only from one side, but was told that I was wrong. Instead of just marking it down that I got it wrong and moving on with the test, the girl made me try it repeatedly.
"No, really, I swear, I only see the blinking light from the left"
"Try it again"
"I am. It's not any different"
"You're not supposed to tell me which side you see it from, you're only supposed to tell me which eye you see it with"
"Well, I'm closing my left eye now and keeping just my right eye open. I don't see any blinking lights"
"Try again"
So I lied, because if I had kept insisting what I really saw, the girl wasn't going to proceed with the rest of the test. For some reason, the girl made me try the entire test all over again, this time without glasses. I scored worse, and at some points, I was clearly guessing. In the end, the girl decided wearing glasses was not a mandatory condition for my license, despite having scored worse on my vision test without them.
I'm not going to lie, I was somewhat proud that I passed, because even though anyone that isn't a complete moron can pass it easily, I seem to have bad luck with tests when it comes to DriveTest. Also, I spent my time studying on the shitter, which isn't a whole lot of time. Mark had boldly decided to write the test without studying anything. He was only one correct answer away from passing, which is unfortunate, but very impressive by my standards.
Anyway, that's one less major hurdle to get through for the summer. I just gotta worry about graduating now.
The process was much smoother than our attempt on Thursday, in that both Mark and I had our shit together this time, although the wait was substantially longer (2 fuckin' hours!). All those jokes Americans make about the DMV apply to the DriveTest centers here. Mark killed time by criticizing people aloud, even if they were sitting two feet away from us. I, in turn, killed time by squirming uncomfortably at Mark criticizing people aloud and responding to him in what can only be described as half-whispering and half-mumbling. I like to call it "whumbling".
The vision test process was pretty questionable. For everyone else that remembers taking their G1, there's a part where after you stick your face in the little box, and after you've read lines of numbers, they flash some lights and you have to say which side it's flashing from: right or left. I know I have my stupid days, but I know which side is right and which side is left. There were a few instances where I could clearly see it only from one side, but was told that I was wrong. Instead of just marking it down that I got it wrong and moving on with the test, the girl made me try it repeatedly.
"No, really, I swear, I only see the blinking light from the left"
"Try it again"
"I am. It's not any different"
"You're not supposed to tell me which side you see it from, you're only supposed to tell me which eye you see it with"
"Well, I'm closing my left eye now and keeping just my right eye open. I don't see any blinking lights"
"Try again"
So I lied, because if I had kept insisting what I really saw, the girl wasn't going to proceed with the rest of the test. For some reason, the girl made me try the entire test all over again, this time without glasses. I scored worse, and at some points, I was clearly guessing. In the end, the girl decided wearing glasses was not a mandatory condition for my license, despite having scored worse on my vision test without them.
I'm not going to lie, I was somewhat proud that I passed, because even though anyone that isn't a complete moron can pass it easily, I seem to have bad luck with tests when it comes to DriveTest. Also, I spent my time studying on the shitter, which isn't a whole lot of time. Mark had boldly decided to write the test without studying anything. He was only one correct answer away from passing, which is unfortunate, but very impressive by my standards.
Anyway, that's one less major hurdle to get through for the summer. I just gotta worry about graduating now.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Silly ass shit
Mark and I went together to write our G1 exam. Yeah, we even held hands all the way there (not really). It was Mark who was worried about bringing the right pieces of ID to even make it in but I was the one who was ultimately turned away because I'm an idiot. I wished him good luck while I wandered around a Toys R Us, a dollar store and a thrift store.
When he came out, he looked bummed. I had assumed he had failed. He didn't. As he was waiting to write his test, his mom (who had driven the both of us there), came in and he gave his IDs to her to take home. Turns out you still need it even once you get in. And since she had already left the place, he couldn't write his exam either. So neither one of us even came close to writing the damn thing. If that isn't some silly ass shit, I don't know what is.
We try again tomorrow.
When he came out, he looked bummed. I had assumed he had failed. He didn't. As he was waiting to write his test, his mom (who had driven the both of us there), came in and he gave his IDs to her to take home. Turns out you still need it even once you get in. And since she had already left the place, he couldn't write his exam either. So neither one of us even came close to writing the damn thing. If that isn't some silly ass shit, I don't know what is.
We try again tomorrow.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Inspiration
A few weeks ago, Eugenie told Mark and I about a documentary she had seen about photographer Bill Cunningham and how great it was. Eugenie has great taste in music and films, so I definitely didn't doubt her. She sent us a video of the trailer shortly after and I was sold.
I finally got to see it yesterday with Mark and some of his friends and I'm happy to say I wasn't disappointed. It was inspiring to see an 80 year old man so devoted to something, and as devoted to it as he was 4 decades ago. Living a frugal lifestyle, because (I assume) his job is all that matters to him. I can only hope I'll be as likable, sharp, lively, well-respected and talented when I become his age. But most likely not. If you're into photography and/or fashion, I highly recommend this movie.
I finally got to see it yesterday with Mark and some of his friends and I'm happy to say I wasn't disappointed. It was inspiring to see an 80 year old man so devoted to something, and as devoted to it as he was 4 decades ago. Living a frugal lifestyle, because (I assume) his job is all that matters to him. I can only hope I'll be as likable, sharp, lively, well-respected and talented when I become his age. But most likely not. If you're into photography and/or fashion, I highly recommend this movie.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
When the man comes around...at 9 pm eastern time.
In case it actually happens by some miraculous chance, it was nice knowing you*.
*except you, you, you, you, you and especially you. Fucker.
Edit: Looks like I'm still here. Boy, I sure didn't see that coming.
*except you, you, you, you, you and especially you. Fucker.
Edit: Looks like I'm still here. Boy, I sure didn't see that coming.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
My Michelle
Happy birthday to the most adorable, creative, inspiring and blackest-non-black girl I know. Congrats, Michelle; you've passed the thresh-old (I totally stole that from Owen).
Monday, May 16, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
This or That
I don't watch that much television, so I have no idea if this is an old commercial or a new one. Either way, I fucking love this commercial.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Rambling
One of the more fun* perks I get to experience at work is when sales reps come to visit our store. They always come in with several of those suitcases with wheels and handles to drag them along by. They open up tray after tray of sample frames and try to peddle their stuff. It's a fun sneak peek at all the new collections before they come out.
Most of the time, it's a disaster. I rarely stick around when a sales rep comes in just because I know the boss is going to shoot them down. But on the odd occasion where a rep for a really good line comes in, they have our full attention.
Not to turn this into a fashion blog, but one of my favorite eyewear lines these days is Barton Perreira. It's okay, I hadn't heard of them either until a few months ago. Oliver Peoples has Elijah Wood and Shirley Manson, Chanel has Lily Allen and Barton Perreira has...Giovanni Ribisi. It's something, I guess. But the glasses are really nice. Despite the sales rep having known my boss for years and that we loved the line, he seemed really nervous to be there. It was like he was baby sitting us; we were grabbing frames left and right, trying them on and inspecting them. He could barely keep up.
The whole point of all this rambling?
I ended up getting new glasses. The end.
*depending on your idea of "fun" at a job.
Most of the time, it's a disaster. I rarely stick around when a sales rep comes in just because I know the boss is going to shoot them down. But on the odd occasion where a rep for a really good line comes in, they have our full attention.
Not to turn this into a fashion blog, but one of my favorite eyewear lines these days is Barton Perreira. It's okay, I hadn't heard of them either until a few months ago. Oliver Peoples has Elijah Wood and Shirley Manson, Chanel has Lily Allen and Barton Perreira has...Giovanni Ribisi. It's something, I guess. But the glasses are really nice. Despite the sales rep having known my boss for years and that we loved the line, he seemed really nervous to be there. It was like he was baby sitting us; we were grabbing frames left and right, trying them on and inspecting them. He could barely keep up.
The whole point of all this rambling?
I ended up getting new glasses. The end.
*depending on your idea of "fun" at a job.
Friday, May 13, 2011
The Quarterly (or so) Cell Phone Pic Post
Shit I saw the past few weeks or so.
Zombie shaped elastic band. Despite the zombie overkill in just about everything, I still find it awesome.
Scarborough Jenga.
Mark pointed this out to me. Yes, a cigarette butt magically stuck to a metal beam is enough to amaze us.
A whole mound of clothes next to the train tracks. Makes me wonder how all that got there. It's a lot more littered than pictured.
The handiwork of the man who will go unnamed.
Mark makes for a pretty hot babe.
What I do when I'm bored at work: I personalize the scissors.
Michelle with a tissue box on her head, duh.
I like seeing what other people drew/carved on the tables every time I go to Sneaky Dee's. Best steak salads ever (thanks for getting us into it, Jocelyn).
What I tell myself when I strike out with girls.
Really tempted to go and white out the 'N' in Bing.
Mittens gets more and more cute the more he/she (I still haven't bothered to remember which) gets fatter.
Hella nice.
Zombie shaped elastic band. Despite the zombie overkill in just about everything, I still find it awesome.
Scarborough Jenga.
Mark pointed this out to me. Yes, a cigarette butt magically stuck to a metal beam is enough to amaze us.
A whole mound of clothes next to the train tracks. Makes me wonder how all that got there. It's a lot more littered than pictured.
The handiwork of the man who will go unnamed.
Mark makes for a pretty hot babe.
What I do when I'm bored at work: I personalize the scissors.
Michelle with a tissue box on her head, duh.
I like seeing what other people drew/carved on the tables every time I go to Sneaky Dee's. Best steak salads ever (thanks for getting us into it, Jocelyn).
What I tell myself when I strike out with girls.
Really tempted to go and white out the 'N' in Bing.
Mittens gets more and more cute the more he/she (I still haven't bothered to remember which) gets fatter.
Hella nice.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Oreo
My parents have been loving this commercial lately. According to them, the kid with the sippy cup reminds them of me when I was his age. I guess I could do worse.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Song challenges 4, 5 and 6
Song Challenge #4: A Song That Makes You Sad
I don't think I know of any song that makes me sad, but if there were to be any song that could do it, this would be the most likely one. Or the first half of the song, anyway, which is all that this video really covers.
Song Challenge #5: A Song That Reminds You of Someone
I probably have a song for each person I know, but my friend Stephanie has a knack for introducing me to music that I end up listening to on repeat, even years afterward. For instance, she sent this song to me almost two years ago.
Song Challenge #6: A Song That Reminds You of Somewhere
When I went to the Dominican Republic with friends, a few of us got sick, despite taking efforts not to drink the local water. I got it the worst, so for a good portion of the trip, I was in my room watching BET on television. And this was a big hit at the time. I ended up loving it and learning some of the lyrics. Then I attempted to sing it at karaoke. I sucked.
I don't think I know of any song that makes me sad, but if there were to be any song that could do it, this would be the most likely one. Or the first half of the song, anyway, which is all that this video really covers.
Song Challenge #5: A Song That Reminds You of Someone
I probably have a song for each person I know, but my friend Stephanie has a knack for introducing me to music that I end up listening to on repeat, even years afterward. For instance, she sent this song to me almost two years ago.
Song Challenge #6: A Song That Reminds You of Somewhere
When I went to the Dominican Republic with friends, a few of us got sick, despite taking efforts not to drink the local water. I got it the worst, so for a good portion of the trip, I was in my room watching BET on television. And this was a big hit at the time. I ended up loving it and learning some of the lyrics. Then I attempted to sing it at karaoke. I sucked.
Friday, April 29, 2011
List of shit
As per Michelle's advice, I've started my list of shit that I wanna do during the summer.
-photography projects. I've got some ideas brewing and if all goes well, I'm gonna get Lunar Piano Tuner (both members!) to be my guinea pigs. If it works out, I'm gonna be calling a lot more of my friends to help me out.
-skate. I gotta get my exercise in somewhere and honestly, I really miss skating (even though I suck at it).
-stencils. It's been a long time since I made any stencils. The last one I did was on a school binder two years ago. I've already started to try and warm up a bit before I undertake any bigger projects...
Some of the details are hella blurred, but it's not easy spraying griptape. I'm planning on spraying the underside too, but don't know of what yet. So if you have any suggestions, send `em. And no, I haven't heard the new Panda Bear album yet; I just really like the graphic.
-birthday party. I've had pretty low key birthdays for the past couple of years and for once, I'd like to celebrate. I just gotta figure out what I wanna do. Mark your calendars, bitches.
That's it as far as my list of shit goes, but I'm certain those things will be more than enough to keep me going. I know it's a pretty vague list, but it's no fun if I show all my cards right away.
-photography projects. I've got some ideas brewing and if all goes well, I'm gonna get Lunar Piano Tuner (both members!) to be my guinea pigs. If it works out, I'm gonna be calling a lot more of my friends to help me out.
-skate. I gotta get my exercise in somewhere and honestly, I really miss skating (even though I suck at it).
-stencils. It's been a long time since I made any stencils. The last one I did was on a school binder two years ago. I've already started to try and warm up a bit before I undertake any bigger projects...
Some of the details are hella blurred, but it's not easy spraying griptape. I'm planning on spraying the underside too, but don't know of what yet. So if you have any suggestions, send `em. And no, I haven't heard the new Panda Bear album yet; I just really like the graphic.
-birthday party. I've had pretty low key birthdays for the past couple of years and for once, I'd like to celebrate. I just gotta figure out what I wanna do. Mark your calendars, bitches.
That's it as far as my list of shit goes, but I'm certain those things will be more than enough to keep me going. I know it's a pretty vague list, but it's no fun if I show all my cards right away.
Song Challenge #3
Song Challenge #3: A Song That Makes You Happy
If Summer were to take on corporeal form and start a band, it would sound like Washed Out. Listening to Washed Out makes me want to start a giant list of shit I wanna do during the summer so I can have as much fun as the people in the video are having.
If Summer were to take on corporeal form and start a band, it would sound like Washed Out. Listening to Washed Out makes me want to start a giant list of shit I wanna do during the summer so I can have as much fun as the people in the video are having.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Song Challenge #2
Third entry in the third consecutive day? With the frequency of these updates, it's like I never left Blogger to begin with.
I'm officially sick. Despite never having coughed or sneezed in my presence or ever having exchanged bodily fluids with her, I'm certain my boss got me sick. It can't be coincidence that she tells me she's sick on Tuesday, then I wake up on Wednesday sick. Hey, no problem. It just means next time I get sick, I get to pay back the favor by sneezing into her food when she's not looking. Or maybe even when she is.
Song Challenge #2: Your Favorite Cover
Not my all time favorite, but it's definitely up there. I'm not even that big of an Antony fan, but he does a great job here.
I'm officially sick. Despite never having coughed or sneezed in my presence or ever having exchanged bodily fluids with her, I'm certain my boss got me sick. It can't be coincidence that she tells me she's sick on Tuesday, then I wake up on Wednesday sick. Hey, no problem. It just means next time I get sick, I get to pay back the favor by sneezing into her food when she's not looking. Or maybe even when she is.
Song Challenge #2: Your Favorite Cover
Not my all time favorite, but it's definitely up there. I'm not even that big of an Antony fan, but he does a great job here.
Antony Hegarty - If It Be Your Will from Logic Will Break Your Heart on Vimeo.
The 30 Day Blogger Song Challenge
This is supposed to be for Facebook, but fuck Facebook*. It's been going around Facebook and I haven't shoved my taste in music down people's throats in a while, so why not.
Song Challenge #1: Your favorite song
What the fuck, it's the first one and it's already bullshit. I don't have one. There's too many to choose from. I'll post one of my favorite songs, though.
What, was that too obvious?
*yes, fuck Facebook, despite the fact that I joined back on it a week ago. No, I didn't miss it; it's the only way I can get in touch with certain people.
Song Challenge #1: Your favorite song
What the fuck, it's the first one and it's already bullshit. I don't have one. There's too many to choose from. I'll post one of my favorite songs, though.
What, was that too obvious?
*yes, fuck Facebook, despite the fact that I joined back on it a week ago. No, I didn't miss it; it's the only way I can get in touch with certain people.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Mystery frames
So for the last 6 weeks or so, we've had this giant Chanel poster hanging out in the front of our store. Nothing special. It's not the first giant Chanel poster we've had hanging there and it sure as hell won't be the last. And as far as posters for optical collections go, it's really formulaic; it's a head shot of a pretty girl wearing frames in black and white.
And yet, for some reason, I've never seen such a high level of demand for any pair of frames in the entire time I've worked in this store. It's insane, the number of women that have walked into the store, asking "Can I see those frames that she's wearing?". I just don't get it. The frames are nice, but it's not exactly reinventing the wheel. No other pair of frames has garnered so much attention and desire from passerby. Today alone, we took down the names and phone numbers of 6 different women who demanded we call them ASAP the minute we got the frames in. Six isn't a big number, but I'm not counting all the people that asked about it without leaving a name/number.
And the kicker? We don't have the frames. We ordered them, but the distributor (who happen to be the largest corporation in the optical industry) doesn't even have the frames on hand. I've yet to figure out how they could ship us a big ass poster advertising frames that they don't even have.
So here it is. If anyone can provide some insight as to what makes these frames so amazing, let me know.
And yet, for some reason, I've never seen such a high level of demand for any pair of frames in the entire time I've worked in this store. It's insane, the number of women that have walked into the store, asking "Can I see those frames that she's wearing?". I just don't get it. The frames are nice, but it's not exactly reinventing the wheel. No other pair of frames has garnered so much attention and desire from passerby. Today alone, we took down the names and phone numbers of 6 different women who demanded we call them ASAP the minute we got the frames in. Six isn't a big number, but I'm not counting all the people that asked about it without leaving a name/number.
And the kicker? We don't have the frames. We ordered them, but the distributor (who happen to be the largest corporation in the optical industry) doesn't even have the frames on hand. I've yet to figure out how they could ship us a big ass poster advertising frames that they don't even have.
So here it is. If anyone can provide some insight as to what makes these frames so amazing, let me know.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
The Anatomy of Melancholy
I went to see Godspeed You! Black Emperor with Owen last night. Let's just cut to the chase: they were fuckin' good. Even Seth Rogen would change his mind about them. I'll admit I was apprehensive at first; I figured I'd stand there for 3 hours and listen to a total of 4 songs while they dinked around on stage. I'm happy to report there was no dinking around and the whole thing was pretty fuckin' intense from beginning to end*. I caught myself with my mouth agape a few times. It was worth every cent of Owen's money, har har.
I'm not really sure what else to say; for the most part, I'm still kind of speechless.
Other highlights from last night:
-French Canadian dude trying to talk to us while we were waiting in line. I hate it when all people can talk about is music. Well, I hate it when all people can talk about is any one thing. He gave up on talking to us and began talking to the couple behind him, starting off his convo the exact same way he did with us. It almost sounded rehearsed.
-the people stamped my wrist with a stamp that reads "WEINER".
-"$20 for a poster?!?! ...okay, I'll take one"
-the Sadies were surprisingly good, even though I'm usually very dismissive of opening bands and I really don't like country-rock bands. They also did this sort of *ahem* guitar reach-around thing that's a lot more awesome than it sounds.
-despite having been at Lee's Palace numerous times before, I told Owen "Lee's Palace looks a lot bigger in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World".
-instead of standing throughout the whole show, which I dreaded, we managed to snag seats on the wooden benches. Have you ever sat on those things for more than 15 minutes? It fucking hurts your legs. After 15 minutes, you get pins and needles. I know I'm not the only one that was in pain, because I saw both Owen and the girl next to him frequently bring their legs up and hug their knees against them. So sit or stand, you lose either way.
-asking the cab driver if he could get me home on a flat rate of $22 (it's all the cash I had on me). He grudgingly agreed, only for me to realize you could pay by debit, which I didn't bother telling him until we got to my destination. Then he grumbled about having to start up the debit machine, which takes 2 minutes. Yeah, I'm a dick.
*by end, I mean the time I left. I'll admit I didn't stay for the whole set because it was already late and I had to get home.
Friday, April 22, 2011
I'm back, y'all, and I'm back, y'all and I'm backity back...
The last real post I made was on May 6, 2010. I think I'm finally ready to come back. Because there was so much demand.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
Cut and paste
The conversation during dinner was pretty lulz-worthy. There were several lulz crammed into one conversation. It was priceless. How it more or less went, almost verbatim:
Mom: Owen looks much better with his hair cut. He looks less Filipino and more Chinese.
Me: Oh that's good, because we make fun of him a lot for looking Filipino. Or Mexican. Or Native American.
Mom: Oh yeah. That too! Is he still dating that girl?
Me: May?
Mom: Yeah, the one that was supposed to pick up that stuff from you.
Dad: No, they broke up ages ago (I was surprised he actually remembered this. I couldn't even remember ever telling him)
Me: Oh, that reminds me. Christine got engaged.
Mom: To who?
Me: You don't know him.
Mom: Who's the other person getting married again?
Me: Lenny.
Mom: Oh right. And when is my son going to bring home a girl?
Me: When I find one.
Mom: When you find one? When do you ever even go look for one?
Me: You didn't go out and look for Dad. You were introduced to him from his sister.
Mom: No, it was my sister that introduced us. And when I met him, I had to put in a ton of effort to woo him! If I hadn't chased after him, he'd still be dating white girls!
Me: (Realizing that she missed my point completely, I just decided to start trolling) Oh, by the way, I told all my friends about you, Dad. About how you dated white girls. They think you're awesome.
Dad: (Smiling) I had two white girlfriends!
Mom: Yeah, but they were ugly.
Dad: Were not! One of them was French Canadian!
Mom: She was fat.
Dad: Fat my ass! She was so pretty.
Mom: She was homely.
Dad: I have pictures of her still!
Me: (Whispering to my dad) Show me later.
So there you have it. Both my dad and I both had/have a crush on French Canadian girls. Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
Mom: Owen looks much better with his hair cut. He looks less Filipino and more Chinese.
Me: Oh that's good, because we make fun of him a lot for looking Filipino. Or Mexican. Or Native American.
Mom: Oh yeah. That too! Is he still dating that girl?
Me: May?
Mom: Yeah, the one that was supposed to pick up that stuff from you.
Dad: No, they broke up ages ago (I was surprised he actually remembered this. I couldn't even remember ever telling him)
Me: Oh, that reminds me. Christine got engaged.
Mom: To who?
Me: You don't know him.
Mom: Who's the other person getting married again?
Me: Lenny.
Mom: Oh right. And when is my son going to bring home a girl?
Me: When I find one.
Mom: When you find one? When do you ever even go look for one?
Me: You didn't go out and look for Dad. You were introduced to him from his sister.
Mom: No, it was my sister that introduced us. And when I met him, I had to put in a ton of effort to woo him! If I hadn't chased after him, he'd still be dating white girls!
Me: (Realizing that she missed my point completely, I just decided to start trolling) Oh, by the way, I told all my friends about you, Dad. About how you dated white girls. They think you're awesome.
Dad: (Smiling) I had two white girlfriends!
Mom: Yeah, but they were ugly.
Dad: Were not! One of them was French Canadian!
Mom: She was fat.
Dad: Fat my ass! She was so pretty.
Mom: She was homely.
Dad: I have pictures of her still!
Me: (Whispering to my dad) Show me later.
So there you have it. Both my dad and I both had/have a crush on French Canadian girls. Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
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