The last couple of days Ive been dealing with the nightmare of doing my Canadian tax return OUTSIDE OF CANADA. I shouted because apparently, when you are living outside of Canada and no longer a resident, you have to fill out the form BY HAND. No electronic submissions. Only manually. Using a calculator. And writing numbers into little boxes with Pen. Then mailing it in. With a stamp. Like what the faaah? Who exactly does it by hand now? Apart from stupid people that dont know you can do it using computers, or accountants that get their jollies "doin it oldskool"? Well, theres me... I guess. I havent done my taxes by hand, in I dont know, I cant even remember... I dont think I ever have. And now I have to, its like being forced to do long division and divide 234917 by 384.62 with pencil and paper, when there is a calculator right in front of you, just to tease. Now I see it as Canada's backhanded yet subtle punishment to all those leaving the country. Its anachoristic torture. Now add insult to injury, and rub vinegar, tabasco and lemon into the wound; after I struggled through the process, filling out that sommabitch (took me four hours).. I reviewed it and found out I screwed up. Now I have to start all over again, cuz unlike Nicole doing crosswords in pen, white-out is not acceptable.
The only thing that kept me sane through this was listening to Kasabian over and over. Its the first album Ive actually properly bought in the longest time, and it is fabulously, unbelievably, crotchgrabbingly transcendent. Or as Morris would say "Sooooooooo guuud.." Every song just makes me wanna pee. An absolute pleasure... if you like this new rush of original music from Franz and Killers and Muse and Doves... you need to have a listen. (MJ you wont like it though, no mushy love songs) In my opinion, its the best overall album, top to bottom, since Radiohead- The Bends, Dr. Dre- The Chronic and Michael Jackson- Invincible. I cant wait for me iPod/Ressurected to return so that I can start to take it with me... Again.
Oh yeah, did I tell you? Steve O'Jobs came through (actually it was Stevinder Jobhar, since the Apple support call center for Ireland is located in India), and they are sending me a new replacement.. no worries, dont even have to pay for shipping. Stevinder rules...
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Im speaking Portuguese...
Este parágrafo vai ser especial. Estou escrevendo em português. A maioria de vocês não vai nem entender sobre o que eu estou escrevendo, hahaha, tudo o que vocês vão ver é um monte de palavras estrangeiras juntas parecendo incrivelmente exóticas. Se você entendeu tudo isto, então você saberá que eu devo agradecer à minha amiga Renata por ter escrito isto para mim! A menos que você conheça Cristiano Ronaldo, Ronaldinho ou Nelly Furtado para traduzir pra você, me desculpe eu serei o único a saber o que estou escrevendo. Espere um momento, Eu estou indo até a cozinha para bebida um copo d'agua. Força!
...been touching up on my Portuguese, preparing for Portugal, aint no thang... i got skills...Maravihlosa. Only about 3 weeks left until Eric and Marty show up. These are the times when living in Europe absolutely kicks JLo ass; vacation time. First, you get tons of it, and second, theres tons of places to go. Actually Ireland probably gets the least vacation time of any of its EU brothers. Where Canada and US have minimums of 10 days a year, Ireland gets 23 as a govt enforced minimum. UK has an average of like 23-7 days, and Germany gets an obscene average of 30-35 days a year. The most insultingly sickening one though is the French. 36 vacation days a year, plus 20 floater days. Doesnt that make you want to puke on your shoes? Or even better, work at the Louvre cafe? Anyways, the itinary is Ireland-Portugal-Spain-Southern France/Monaco, which is nominally better than Hope-Cache Creek-Williams Lake-Prince George... but only by a little.
...been touching up on my Portuguese, preparing for Portugal, aint no thang... i got skills...Maravihlosa. Only about 3 weeks left until Eric and Marty show up. These are the times when living in Europe absolutely kicks JLo ass; vacation time. First, you get tons of it, and second, theres tons of places to go. Actually Ireland probably gets the least vacation time of any of its EU brothers. Where Canada and US have minimums of 10 days a year, Ireland gets 23 as a govt enforced minimum. UK has an average of like 23-7 days, and Germany gets an obscene average of 30-35 days a year. The most insultingly sickening one though is the French. 36 vacation days a year, plus 20 floater days. Doesnt that make you want to puke on your shoes? Or even better, work at the Louvre cafe? Anyways, the itinary is Ireland-Portugal-Spain-Southern France/Monaco, which is nominally better than Hope-Cache Creek-Williams Lake-Prince George... but only by a little.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
iDead
My iPod has died. It doesnt work anymore, and Im soooooooooooooooooooooo devastated. Absolutely crushed. It gets really hot now (fever), and the hard drive keeps spinning and spinning with no result, repeating ad nauseum (alzheimers). Mort.
Its quite poignant, but I can finally relate now to some of the most emotionally heartfelt moments in history, like I now know how Kevin Amold felt when his inspirational math teacher passed away, or how Davey Boy Smith and Dynamite Kid felt when Matilda was kidnapped; its a dark empty place, where you constantly battle and fight to not cry so much. You have to understand this was my best friend in Ireland. An inanimate object was my best friend. I dont think I have referenced anything in this blog more than my iPod. It provided a soundtrack to my aimlessness... and it kept me occupied when I walked around and gallivanted about without point, with nothing better to do, it was always there before. Now its not.
So now with iPod gone, there is a few things that I can no longer do. I can no longer go to the gym and "almost" dance in the mirror to 99 Red Ballons, cant go for a run and get a rush of adreneline when Vanessa Carltons White Houses comes on, and I was REALLY looking forward to listening to Nelly Furtados portugueses songs which I dont understand, while i walked on the beaches of Algarve and Lisboa next month. Or even listen to my pal Enrique sing "Escape" while walking the calle in Madrid. Lets not also forget it is THE status card for being cool. Not that Im not cool anymore, Im not saying that, Im still cool. Just sad too.
There is still hope for resurrection though. Im sending it into apple.ie, hoping that Steve O'Jobs can fix it. There is the one small complication that I bought it in Canada, and the warranty is suppose to only apply in North America... but ehhhhhhhh... minor technicality. Otherwise they might have to talk to my two pals, on my right, Peter McNeely and on my left, Gerry Cooney.
Its quite poignant, but I can finally relate now to some of the most emotionally heartfelt moments in history, like I now know how Kevin Amold felt when his inspirational math teacher passed away, or how Davey Boy Smith and Dynamite Kid felt when Matilda was kidnapped; its a dark empty place, where you constantly battle and fight to not cry so much. You have to understand this was my best friend in Ireland. An inanimate object was my best friend. I dont think I have referenced anything in this blog more than my iPod. It provided a soundtrack to my aimlessness... and it kept me occupied when I walked around and gallivanted about without point, with nothing better to do, it was always there before. Now its not.
So now with iPod gone, there is a few things that I can no longer do. I can no longer go to the gym and "almost" dance in the mirror to 99 Red Ballons, cant go for a run and get a rush of adreneline when Vanessa Carltons White Houses comes on, and I was REALLY looking forward to listening to Nelly Furtados portugueses songs which I dont understand, while i walked on the beaches of Algarve and Lisboa next month. Or even listen to my pal Enrique sing "Escape" while walking the calle in Madrid. Lets not also forget it is THE status card for being cool. Not that Im not cool anymore, Im not saying that, Im still cool. Just sad too.
There is still hope for resurrection though. Im sending it into apple.ie, hoping that Steve O'Jobs can fix it. There is the one small complication that I bought it in Canada, and the warranty is suppose to only apply in North America... but ehhhhhhhh... minor technicality. Otherwise they might have to talk to my two pals, on my right, Peter McNeely and on my left, Gerry Cooney.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Sky rockets in flight, Afternoon delight
I had something to talk about, I was really looking forward to expressing myself on what I had on my mind. It was huge. Profound. Hopefully hilarious. But then I got distracted by actress Shannyn Sossamon on 40 Days and 40 Nights, the RTE1 Wednesday night movie on TV (class film btw) and after that, it was game over; now all of sudden Im left with nothing. Im leaving a huge blank. So frustrating... cant think, total mindblock, wiped from memory, attention span evaporated. My memory is unbelievably shameful, I should stop doing glue.
So... Hmm.. Ive got no material. Very embarassing. Maybe tomorrow...
Instead... out of my back pocket...
Ill do some shout outs: Happy Birthday to my grandma/lola (March 14), Magtanong (St. Pats Day), Kid Slick (March 19), Manny (March 24), and upcoming to my Dad and Kuya Bong (March 28 both). March is a busy month, thank goodness Im over here and mercifully saved from buying regalos...
And an another shout out as well to Jen and Zeb... who have announced that they are now expecting in Sept. A cute little baby is coming. This is great news... but I have to admit its gonna be wierd; I cant believe Jen is finally going to weigh more than 90 lbs. (haha Jen, I kid, I kid! Dont hit me...)
Oh, and about St Patricks Day in Dublin. It was pretty good, yet kinda anti-climatic in a way. I was sober though, I had to drive home from Dublin you see. And unlike 25 years ago, drinking and driving is a little illegal. Nevermind, all my friends ( I have 3 of them) were out of the country anyways. Instead I was 3rd party to nonstop hooliganism in downtown Dublin starting shortly after the parade. It turns out 16 year olds cant handle their drink in Ireland, either.
Hasta Luego...
So... Hmm.. Ive got no material. Very embarassing. Maybe tomorrow...
Instead... out of my back pocket...
Ill do some shout outs: Happy Birthday to my grandma/lola (March 14), Magtanong (St. Pats Day), Kid Slick (March 19), Manny (March 24), and upcoming to my Dad and Kuya Bong (March 28 both). March is a busy month, thank goodness Im over here and mercifully saved from buying regalos...
And an another shout out as well to Jen and Zeb... who have announced that they are now expecting in Sept. A cute little baby is coming. This is great news... but I have to admit its gonna be wierd; I cant believe Jen is finally going to weigh more than 90 lbs. (haha Jen, I kid, I kid! Dont hit me...)
Oh, and about St Patricks Day in Dublin. It was pretty good, yet kinda anti-climatic in a way. I was sober though, I had to drive home from Dublin you see. And unlike 25 years ago, drinking and driving is a little illegal. Nevermind, all my friends ( I have 3 of them) were out of the country anyways. Instead I was 3rd party to nonstop hooliganism in downtown Dublin starting shortly after the parade. It turns out 16 year olds cant handle their drink in Ireland, either.
Hasta Luego...
Thursday, March 17, 2005
St. Patricks Day
Today will hopefully (and thankfully) be the end of a steady stream of stupid questions from abroad... all centering around the theme "Hows the Green beer in Ireland on St. Patricks Day?"
Like WhUUUT? Excuse me? I beg your pardon? Ahhhhh NO. Its all bullshitssss..
Ive asked around work even:
Me: " They dont do Green beer on St. Patricks Day here do they?"
Tom, my Boss: "WHAT?! Thats fecking ridiculous!! Green beer, are you fecking kidding me? Its those stupid yanks... theyre a bunch of plunkers.."
So St. Patricks Day in Dublin does not condone green beer, and if you ever see green beer served again, throw it in the bartenders face, you have Irelands permission. There is only one color of beer for most, and its black.
In 15 minutes, Im heading down to St. Pattys week festivities... Ill check in later to say how it goes...
Happy St. Patricks Day, y'all, celebrating no snakes in Ireland.
Like WhUUUT? Excuse me? I beg your pardon? Ahhhhh NO. Its all bullshitssss..
Ive asked around work even:
Me: " They dont do Green beer on St. Patricks Day here do they?"
Tom, my Boss: "WHAT?! Thats fecking ridiculous!! Green beer, are you fecking kidding me? Its those stupid yanks... theyre a bunch of plunkers.."
So St. Patricks Day in Dublin does not condone green beer, and if you ever see green beer served again, throw it in the bartenders face, you have Irelands permission. There is only one color of beer for most, and its black.
In 15 minutes, Im heading down to St. Pattys week festivities... Ill check in later to say how it goes...
Happy St. Patricks Day, y'all, celebrating no snakes in Ireland.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Once upon a time...
Ive been feeling a little slack lately with my blog, I need to post more. I haven't done enough, so Ill start posting pictures more... starting now. I havent really posted anything since Italy and Greece so Ill attempt to be more active photoblogging...
These are all my good pics. Thats pretty much it. Multiply by Infinity, and thats how many I have of crappy ones. Taa taa, be kind rewind...
These are all my good pics. Thats pretty much it. Multiply by Infinity, and thats how many I have of crappy ones. Taa taa, be kind rewind...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
