Lost roll

I was trying to emulate what it would be like if I found a bunch of misplaced film and developed it, by taking a whole year's worth of pictures and developing all of it at the beginning of the next year and seeing what I would remember and what I had forgotten. That was the 2010 project.
It turns out I really did misplace a few rolls of film, some of which I still haven't found. I did manage to get this one roll developed though, two years later. I know no one reads this anymore, but I figured I'd post them anyway, just for posterity's sake.

2010, the last good year.

Friendly Neighbourhood Darbs

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?

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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).

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

Memorable Quotes:
"Your place is gonna look all Hong Kong"
-Sergio's cynical prediction on how my place will be furnished, despite never having seen the unit or the furniture I have. So really, he just wanted to remind me that I'm Chinese.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.