Every year is different. But in the end, the eve is the same day as any else. So there should be no shame in staying home and watching movies. Staying in, its the new going out. On my queue tonight: Blu Ray Wall-E, Blu Ray Kung Fu Panda, Slumdog Millionaire, the Terminator Sarah Connor Chronicles season one box set, and the Wrestler (if it downloads in time).
Happy New Year everyone. To my family and all my close cast of friends, I wish you were here (Pink Floyd).
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Decembre Michael Jordan...
Leaving on a jet plane in a few hours, Heres the itinerary:
12:00 Leave Dublin.
14:30 Arrive Paris.
19:30 Leave Paris
20:30 Arrive Prague.
All Business class of course, because thats the way I roll. Afterall it is my birthday so.... and Im part of a club you see, the Front of the Bus Club. Its the club Eric and I pioneered and instituted. These are the standards that we members must adhere to. (btw minimum entrance requirement: at least 3 return trips in International Long Haul Business Class, or 1 Trip in First Class. Stupid Air Canada Elite has nothing on this) Anyways, thats a full day with 3 cities for a birthday, pure commuting. Kinda blows, long layover in Charles DeGaulle,
Ill feel like Tom Hanks in the Terminal.
Got the cast off today, and my foot was MINGin. or.. as my french friend Djamila would say... Dees gus Ting.. I actually washed it 3 seperate times today. My lower left leg had not been washed in 5.5 weeks, which is a full 5 weeks longer than humanly acceptable without inciting a gag reflex. The amount of dead skin I shed, it was like I was like a crustacean molting, thought I was gonna plug the drain. First few observations: the ankle is still swollen and looks darker than my other foot, the complete opposite of what i thought it would. I expected it to be bone white, kinda like Irish skin. Who would of thought? My leg is actually darker than when I left it. Its also super sensitive, so I hope nobody tickles me any time soon. Bulkwise, my left calf is half the size of my right calf now; if I didnt know any better, I would of thought I contracted Polio. Walking is a challenge as well: in the first hour of using both my legs walking again, which felt strangely awkward to begin with, my left calf actually cramped up 3 times. Not fun, because people look at you funny already when your gait mimics a Pirate with a wooden leg... even worse when you spontaneously yelp, fall to the ground and clutch your leg to massage the pain away.
Happily, at the fracture clinic, I got the full story this time around, because I actually got to meet with a competent Doctor this time. He actually explained to me what happened to my ankle, which is kinda, you know, helpful for once. I never knew it was optional, anyways. He explained that it was a grade 3 sprain full ligament tear on the lateral malleolus, with fracture on the fibula. EEww. Shit man, last doctor said my bones were fine. What a donkey. For rehab treatment this doctor recommended trying to walk it off, Literally. To be aggressive as possible, along with the standard physio appointments. He told me to Bin my crutches (with pleasure, they are retarded), and try not to rely on any protection, or over compensating by limping too much, just try to work towards walking normal again to break scar tissue and strengthen the surrounding muscles, basically get my brain talking to my ankle again. Given Im travelling soon after, Ill be walking around loads in the next week, what a coincidence. Its like I meant to go on this trip (its gonna be painful though, not too much fun) So far at this very moment, my ankle is defintely taxed, I put in a good immediate workout, well, shopping. Hope and pray now, I dont reinjure, while I practice walkin like Flavor Flav.
Anyways over here on the side <----- I have added my twitter posts. This is a new feature on the 'An Irish Account' Blog, so the lazies dont have to visit the seperate twitter site anymore. Heck, its probably my first fancy feature ever, like leather interior or granite counters. I wont have immediate access to the Interwebs with no laptop for the next week, but at least I can mini update with sms texting into twitter... Which means, and i just realized now, considering Im fully into cyberspace contributions with a blog, facebook and now twitter... that technically Im a complete online Poser. This needs a tee shirt.
Hasta luego...
12:00 Leave Dublin.
14:30 Arrive Paris.
19:30 Leave Paris
20:30 Arrive Prague.
All Business class of course, because thats the way I roll. Afterall it is my birthday so.... and Im part of a club you see, the Front of the Bus Club. Its the club Eric and I pioneered and instituted. These are the standards that we members must adhere to. (btw minimum entrance requirement: at least 3 return trips in International Long Haul Business Class, or 1 Trip in First Class. Stupid Air Canada Elite has nothing on this) Anyways, thats a full day with 3 cities for a birthday, pure commuting. Kinda blows, long layover in Charles DeGaulle,
Ill feel like Tom Hanks in the Terminal.
Got the cast off today, and my foot was MINGin. or.. as my french friend Djamila would say... Dees gus Ting.. I actually washed it 3 seperate times today. My lower left leg had not been washed in 5.5 weeks, which is a full 5 weeks longer than humanly acceptable without inciting a gag reflex. The amount of dead skin I shed, it was like I was like a crustacean molting, thought I was gonna plug the drain. First few observations: the ankle is still swollen and looks darker than my other foot, the complete opposite of what i thought it would. I expected it to be bone white, kinda like Irish skin. Who would of thought? My leg is actually darker than when I left it. Its also super sensitive, so I hope nobody tickles me any time soon. Bulkwise, my left calf is half the size of my right calf now; if I didnt know any better, I would of thought I contracted Polio. Walking is a challenge as well: in the first hour of using both my legs walking again, which felt strangely awkward to begin with, my left calf actually cramped up 3 times. Not fun, because people look at you funny already when your gait mimics a Pirate with a wooden leg... even worse when you spontaneously yelp, fall to the ground and clutch your leg to massage the pain away.
Happily, at the fracture clinic, I got the full story this time around, because I actually got to meet with a competent Doctor this time. He actually explained to me what happened to my ankle, which is kinda, you know, helpful for once. I never knew it was optional, anyways. He explained that it was a grade 3 sprain full ligament tear on the lateral malleolus, with fracture on the fibula. EEww. Shit man, last doctor said my bones were fine. What a donkey. For rehab treatment this doctor recommended trying to walk it off, Literally. To be aggressive as possible, along with the standard physio appointments. He told me to Bin my crutches (with pleasure, they are retarded), and try not to rely on any protection, or over compensating by limping too much, just try to work towards walking normal again to break scar tissue and strengthen the surrounding muscles, basically get my brain talking to my ankle again. Given Im travelling soon after, Ill be walking around loads in the next week, what a coincidence. Its like I meant to go on this trip (its gonna be painful though, not too much fun) So far at this very moment, my ankle is defintely taxed, I put in a good immediate workout, well, shopping. Hope and pray now, I dont reinjure, while I practice walkin like Flavor Flav.
Anyways over here on the side <----- I have added my twitter posts. This is a new feature on the 'An Irish Account' Blog, so the lazies dont have to visit the seperate twitter site anymore. Heck, its probably my first fancy feature ever, like leather interior or granite counters. I wont have immediate access to the Interwebs with no laptop for the next week, but at least I can mini update with sms texting into twitter... Which means, and i just realized now, considering Im fully into cyberspace contributions with a blog, facebook and now twitter... that technically Im a complete online Poser. This needs a tee shirt.
Hasta luego...
Friday, December 19, 2008
babbling..
- Im watching a charity concert on TV as I lay on the couch. Boyzone is on at the moment, a irish boy band, who had their hey day in europe 8-12 years ago. Like Nsync there are recognizable members, but based mostly on caracatures: theres the lead guy who looks like Sting, one other guy looks like Joey on Friends, and one guy is gay. And the funny thing is even if you dont know Boyzone, (and I surely dont), having just one look at the 5, and you can tell immediately which one is the gay guy.. you know that kind of way. Conversation last week with Jo as they were on TV, " I didnt know there was a gay guy on Boyzone" "Yeah, that was big controversy here before, back in the day" "Which one is gay?" "Take a look at them, youll know.. " "Oh yeah, ... its sooooooo that guy. Look at him dance.."
-My favorite albums of 2008: Girl Talk - Feed the Animals. MGMT - Oracular Spectacular. Cool Kids - The Bake Sale. Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend. Jason Mraz - We Sing, we Dance, we Steal things. Glas Vegas - Glas Vegas. And surprisingly, because he discovered the 'synthesized auto-tuning' button and sang the whole album, Kanye West - 808 and Heartbreak.
-This is my last weekend of shitiness because of the cast. No more cast misery after this. I get it removed Monday. This event, shockingly, will probably trump Christmas. Im serious too, cuz I hate the cast so much. Also, I made sure no one signed it. That is so Elementary school, like.
- One plus with being home all the time, I did a TON of downloading. Watched a load of TV shows and Movies. Over the last weeks Ive downloaded all the new season of Friday Night lights, episodes so far, all of the Star Wars Clones cartoons from this season so far, including the movie, all of the first full season of True Blood episodes, Iron Man, Incredible Hulk, the aforementioned In Bruge and JCVD, Madagascar 2, Taken, X Files movie, Ghost Town, IT Crowd season 3, Eagle Eye and Babylon AD. You know what? No wonder why the likes of Blockbuster are going bankrupt. Downloading is soo easy now, Im never gonna rent a movie ever again! And by downloading, I mean .. [cough cough].. legally purchasing them from reputable sites.. because I could never really condone going to Torrent sights and downloading them for free.. I would never ever do that.. no way.. thats the work of the diablo.
- Im going to Prague for xmas: ho ho ho... meeting up with jill and two of her friends, crystal ball and nina simone. I really hope it snows. Prague in the snow would be breathtaking. The thought of Prague in the snow for a white Christmas, last time I was this excited, was probably the time I found out Giselle Bundchen had five sisters (FIVE SISTERS! Six total! Thats unbelievable! Its like they are a hot girl factory.. even the ugliest one is hotter than 90% of all other girls youve ever seen in life! Can you imagine? As they say in Lisbon, 'Obrigado' and as Marty says, 'Da Nada')
-My favorite albums of 2008: Girl Talk - Feed the Animals. MGMT - Oracular Spectacular. Cool Kids - The Bake Sale. Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend. Jason Mraz - We Sing, we Dance, we Steal things. Glas Vegas - Glas Vegas. And surprisingly, because he discovered the 'synthesized auto-tuning' button and sang the whole album, Kanye West - 808 and Heartbreak.
-This is my last weekend of shitiness because of the cast. No more cast misery after this. I get it removed Monday. This event, shockingly, will probably trump Christmas. Im serious too, cuz I hate the cast so much. Also, I made sure no one signed it. That is so Elementary school, like.
- One plus with being home all the time, I did a TON of downloading. Watched a load of TV shows and Movies. Over the last weeks Ive downloaded all the new season of Friday Night lights, episodes so far, all of the Star Wars Clones cartoons from this season so far, including the movie, all of the first full season of True Blood episodes, Iron Man, Incredible Hulk, the aforementioned In Bruge and JCVD, Madagascar 2, Taken, X Files movie, Ghost Town, IT Crowd season 3, Eagle Eye and Babylon AD. You know what? No wonder why the likes of Blockbuster are going bankrupt. Downloading is soo easy now, Im never gonna rent a movie ever again! And by downloading, I mean .. [cough cough].. legally purchasing them from reputable sites.. because I could never really condone going to Torrent sights and downloading them for free.. I would never ever do that.. no way.. thats the work of the diablo.
- Im going to Prague for xmas: ho ho ho... meeting up with jill and two of her friends, crystal ball and nina simone. I really hope it snows. Prague in the snow would be breathtaking. The thought of Prague in the snow for a white Christmas, last time I was this excited, was probably the time I found out Giselle Bundchen had five sisters (FIVE SISTERS! Six total! Thats unbelievable! Its like they are a hot girl factory.. even the ugliest one is hotter than 90% of all other girls youve ever seen in life! Can you imagine? As they say in Lisbon, 'Obrigado' and as Marty says, 'Da Nada')
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
A Christmas Carol.. pt 5
Im running out of Christmas songs to write about. Its a little distressing. Every year I write about a great Christmas song. Its turned into a long standing tradition in celebration of white Winters and the greatness of the christmas season, in the respect of what it represents to children and of course, also, the kids in all of us. Last year, almost exactly to this day, I was leaving for the Philippines and I ended up using my last great Christmas Song, The War is Over, John Lennon. And in the years previous I had wrote about Do They Know its Christmas (Band Aid), Last Christmas (Wham!), Little Drummer Boy (Bing Crosby and David Bowie), and Fairy Tale in New York-Christmas in the Drunk Tank (The Pogues)
[Oh geez. two posts in one day. Whats going on?]
I do have a few more in my back pocket I could use, but this year I decided to switch it up and go with songs that can easily BE Christmas songs, even though they really arent. And because they feel 'christmasy' I have decided, by myself, that maybe they just are. So like a self-fulfilling prophesy, they are now. You will think so too, after I work my magic.
First one is Coldplays 'Till Kingdom Come'. I first found out that Chris wrote this song for Johnny Cash. He had intended it for him. But in another light, I think this song is completely yuletide and christmas trees. With the guitar chords and the piano / organ backing, and the subtle flute pacing, its almost naturally suited for singing as a carol in the snow, right beside the Salvation Army guy with the bell and the money collections bowl. It feels completely December to me. And if you liked this song before, because it was attached to an old flame, boyfriend / girlfriend... well maybe its time for for the Ex to move on; St. Nicholas is replacing you. I think the suit fits better. Red with fluffy white trim.
Second one is a classic from Canadian Legend Leonard Cohen... 'Hallelujah' (Took a lot of times to spell that right)
If there ever was a christmas song so deep, moving and completely personal, its probably this. Its been covered by almost everyone, most famously by Jeff Buckley. Rufus Wainwright. John Cale. (Allison Crowes version is bunk) Ive posted the Damian Rice version, because I probably like it the most, and its the most obscure. Hes Irish n All, too, maybe thats why. But whoever the singer, the song is a personal favorite (Stay away Mariah, Ill jumping-superman punch Nick Cannon in the temple if you even think of it). I feel it adds a solemn tone to the winter, sometimes needed in the pantheon of Christmas classics. A quiet sense... of praise and thought. Sometimes this time of year, theres needs to be a place for shedding tears, the type that are good or bad. You need this side of Christmas to be included too. It adds range. A for that its a perfect song.
Actually between this and Suzanne, Cohen has two of my favorite tunes of all time.
So thats it. Im not sure Im doing a gift list this year. Im not coming home this time, and it is recession and all. Most of you know though, I like nice things. Designer Nice things.
Have a lovely Christmas.
By the way, one more week and Im going to Prague!
[Oh geez. two posts in one day. Whats going on?]
I do have a few more in my back pocket I could use, but this year I decided to switch it up and go with songs that can easily BE Christmas songs, even though they really arent. And because they feel 'christmasy' I have decided, by myself, that maybe they just are. So like a self-fulfilling prophesy, they are now. You will think so too, after I work my magic.
First one is Coldplays 'Till Kingdom Come'. I first found out that Chris wrote this song for Johnny Cash. He had intended it for him. But in another light, I think this song is completely yuletide and christmas trees. With the guitar chords and the piano / organ backing, and the subtle flute pacing, its almost naturally suited for singing as a carol in the snow, right beside the Salvation Army guy with the bell and the money collections bowl. It feels completely December to me. And if you liked this song before, because it was attached to an old flame, boyfriend / girlfriend... well maybe its time for for the Ex to move on; St. Nicholas is replacing you. I think the suit fits better. Red with fluffy white trim.
Second one is a classic from Canadian Legend Leonard Cohen... 'Hallelujah' (Took a lot of times to spell that right)
If there ever was a christmas song so deep, moving and completely personal, its probably this. Its been covered by almost everyone, most famously by Jeff Buckley. Rufus Wainwright. John Cale. (Allison Crowes version is bunk) Ive posted the Damian Rice version, because I probably like it the most, and its the most obscure. Hes Irish n All, too, maybe thats why. But whoever the singer, the song is a personal favorite (Stay away Mariah, Ill jumping-superman punch Nick Cannon in the temple if you even think of it). I feel it adds a solemn tone to the winter, sometimes needed in the pantheon of Christmas classics. A quiet sense... of praise and thought. Sometimes this time of year, theres needs to be a place for shedding tears, the type that are good or bad. You need this side of Christmas to be included too. It adds range. A for that its a perfect song.
Actually between this and Suzanne, Cohen has two of my favorite tunes of all time.
So thats it. Im not sure Im doing a gift list this year. Im not coming home this time, and it is recession and all. Most of you know though, I like nice things. Designer Nice things.
Have a lovely Christmas.
By the way, one more week and Im going to Prague!
Lost!
Wow. I just ran through a slate of Lost previews on Youtube and all of a sudden Im sooooooo so excited again, hell, Im actually writing on my blog site. Nowadays, thats a massive accomplishment. Have you ever been addicted to something? Like how I am to Lost perhaps? I guess addicted is the wrong word, because addiction inherently means repeatedly being drawn to actions or habits that are ultimately bad for your well being. If you remove the 'bad' portion... then really it just turns into the definition of Love. The presence of an Existence that has no harm, provides beyond content or better yet makes a person even greater.
This show is so good, and so complete and so fulfilling, I swear this is exactly how religions start and flurish. Its gotten to the point now that I get annoyed at the ignorance of people who dont watch, and irate when people criticize. Isnt that like religions? Its just as good as Love. Only if it werent so weekly periodic, with 8 month sabbaticals. But you cant have it all..
On January 21st, Lost starts again. I can barely hold my pee.
So anyways, if you dont watch the show, do me a favor and rent Season 1 to 4 over the Christmas vacation. Its a religious experience, in the sense of the two paragraphs above. Do it.
Speaking of... Lost! its also probably my favorite song in Coldplays Living La Vida Loca album. Im blasting it right now actually. The bass purcussions drum line: like comeon... sooooooooo awesome. But with a name like that, isnt it inherent?
Peach and Lub..
This show is so good, and so complete and so fulfilling, I swear this is exactly how religions start and flurish. Its gotten to the point now that I get annoyed at the ignorance of people who dont watch, and irate when people criticize. Isnt that like religions? Its just as good as Love. Only if it werent so weekly periodic, with 8 month sabbaticals. But you cant have it all..
On January 21st, Lost starts again. I can barely hold my pee.
So anyways, if you dont watch the show, do me a favor and rent Season 1 to 4 over the Christmas vacation. Its a religious experience, in the sense of the two paragraphs above. Do it.
Speaking of... Lost! its also probably my favorite song in Coldplays Living La Vida Loca album. Im blasting it right now actually. The bass purcussions drum line: like comeon... sooooooooo awesome. But with a name like that, isnt it inherent?
Peach and Lub..
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Flemish & French
Its funny how coincidences happen. Whats odd is when you don't even realize it was a coincidence until you start blogging about it. [Sentences completed in Second Person]
I watched two movies this weekend, of which are easily two of the best movies Ive seen this year. And both wholely and completely unexpected. [Sentence completed in First Person]
I say this because it is not often you watch a movie that completely surprises you, and then makes you wholeheartedly laugh and also cry, rather unapologetically. Movies are typically excellent when this happens, for the reason it allows you to do two things that most people should aspire to do everyday; laugh in wit, and be touched enough in emotion to cry. If you do those two things in a day, thats a good day, a very good day. [Paragraph blending First Person and Second Person. And Im done] Now the coincidence is that it happened on back to back viewed movies, and both filmed in Belgium. Belgium, the home of Smurfs and little boy pissing fountains.
Number one was In Bruge. Movie ii, JCVD.
In Bruge has been out for a while now, especially celebrated around these parts because its pretty much an Irish movie. It took me a while to get around to it, it was on the long finger. Definitely long enough to suppress and forget the 3rd hand talk of how different and clever it was. And for that Im glad I waited, because I got to experience the movie completely fresh and without expectation. And I now completely agree, it turned out to be a craftily written, somewhat dark ganster movie and very Funny. Some of the funniest lines of dialogue Ive heard all year. So far, when it comes to Colin Farrell movies anyways, you now know theres a pretty good chance itll be good, if hes speaking in his own accent.
Now JCVD, which if you havent heard of it yet, stands for Jean Claude Van Damme. Completely original and brave, the film is a parody of himself, and satire on his life. Who would of thought? Directed by some French guy, the dialogue is also primarily in French. And this is the most surprising thing that Ive experienced in years: Jean Claude Van Damme is a exceptional actor... when he is acting in his native tongue: Belgian accented French. And Im dead serious. In this movie he pretty much talks to the viewer and apologizes for his hollywood career and being a screw up outside of it. An unbelievably humbling step for a macho martial arts star of action movies. In a nutshell he tries to underline on of the truest and most deeply personal aphorisms: You are your own worst enemy. You really feel for Jean Claude in this film, but its still funny enough in bits to make you laugh out loud. Personally Im really happy the movie was ever thought of and made to begin with; its been a really long time since Jean Claude Van Damme has been in a good movie. You know, the last one was probably Street Fighter. :D
This is for Wayne: The best motivational speech in cinemagraphic history: ".. we can all go home. Meanwhile, ideals like these - freedom, and justice - they get packed up. But... we can all go home. Well... I'm not going home. I'm gonna get on my boat, and I'm going up-river, and I'm going to kick that son-of-a-bitch Bison's ass so HARD... that the next Bison wanna-be is gonna feel it. Now who wants to go home... and who wants to go with ME! "
YAAAAAEEAAH!! Lets goo! haahahahahha
I watched two movies this weekend, of which are easily two of the best movies Ive seen this year. And both wholely and completely unexpected. [Sentence completed in First Person]
I say this because it is not often you watch a movie that completely surprises you, and then makes you wholeheartedly laugh and also cry, rather unapologetically. Movies are typically excellent when this happens, for the reason it allows you to do two things that most people should aspire to do everyday; laugh in wit, and be touched enough in emotion to cry. If you do those two things in a day, thats a good day, a very good day. [Paragraph blending First Person and Second Person. And Im done] Now the coincidence is that it happened on back to back viewed movies, and both filmed in Belgium. Belgium, the home of Smurfs and little boy pissing fountains.
Number one was In Bruge. Movie ii, JCVD.
In Bruge has been out for a while now, especially celebrated around these parts because its pretty much an Irish movie. It took me a while to get around to it, it was on the long finger. Definitely long enough to suppress and forget the 3rd hand talk of how different and clever it was. And for that Im glad I waited, because I got to experience the movie completely fresh and without expectation. And I now completely agree, it turned out to be a craftily written, somewhat dark ganster movie and very Funny. Some of the funniest lines of dialogue Ive heard all year. So far, when it comes to Colin Farrell movies anyways, you now know theres a pretty good chance itll be good, if hes speaking in his own accent.
Now JCVD, which if you havent heard of it yet, stands for Jean Claude Van Damme. Completely original and brave, the film is a parody of himself, and satire on his life. Who would of thought? Directed by some French guy, the dialogue is also primarily in French. And this is the most surprising thing that Ive experienced in years: Jean Claude Van Damme is a exceptional actor... when he is acting in his native tongue: Belgian accented French. And Im dead serious. In this movie he pretty much talks to the viewer and apologizes for his hollywood career and being a screw up outside of it. An unbelievably humbling step for a macho martial arts star of action movies. In a nutshell he tries to underline on of the truest and most deeply personal aphorisms: You are your own worst enemy. You really feel for Jean Claude in this film, but its still funny enough in bits to make you laugh out loud. Personally Im really happy the movie was ever thought of and made to begin with; its been a really long time since Jean Claude Van Damme has been in a good movie. You know, the last one was probably Street Fighter. :D
This is for Wayne: The best motivational speech in cinemagraphic history: ".. we can all go home. Meanwhile, ideals like these - freedom, and justice - they get packed up. But... we can all go home. Well... I'm not going home. I'm gonna get on my boat, and I'm going up-river, and I'm going to kick that son-of-a-bitch Bison's ass so HARD... that the next Bison wanna-be is gonna feel it. Now who wants to go home... and who wants to go with ME! "
YAAAAAEEAAH!! Lets goo! haahahahahha
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Twitter Dee, Twitter Dum
Im on Twitter now. www.twitter.com/nolisirish. Check it out. Ill be much more consistent and frequent over there... since its so much easier and informal to deal with, I can quickly text and just concentrate on the more immediate, day to day, hour to hour, mundane stuff.. you know kinda like "Going to the shop to pick up some brown sugar" or "At the Champ-Elysees just buying some gum" or "Colin Farrell just dropped by with the Corrs. Andrea the hot one. Bastards always drink all my beer though" or "I just finished laying a big duece that plugged my toilet". Now that last one, that was for real... do you have any idea how hard it is to unplug a toilet when you only have one good leg and you dont have a plunger?... Trast me... not fun.
Also I have started the cheesy word and quote of the day thing going that I will try to keep up. But Ill try not to be pretentious, more urban irrelevant..
Manny got me into it, through Chris Bosh. And Shaq. Now I feel like EDtv. Soon Ill be hosting a 24/7 videolink on Justin.tv.
HAAAA! Yeah right...
Also I have started the cheesy word and quote of the day thing going that I will try to keep up. But Ill try not to be pretentious, more urban irrelevant..
Manny got me into it, through Chris Bosh. And Shaq. Now I feel like EDtv. Soon Ill be hosting a 24/7 videolink on Justin.tv.
HAAAA! Yeah right...
Monday, December 08, 2008
Mexicutioner
Funny Highlights from the Manny Pacquiao fight:
-Fight aside, never have i seen so many old filipinos with dyed black hair celebrating in the ring like they won themselves. Dyed black hair, with brylcreem.. hahaha... Because they dont want to show grey. SOOOO filipino. Thats like my tito cesar, up until the last few years when he gave up to it.
- Have no idea what the frack bernard hopkins was so intimately there for. Like from the weigh-in all the way to the after fight interviews, hopkins was within 2 inches of oscar all the time. Hounding around, muggin his face. Sure hes partners in business and all, but what the? comeon.
- In the corner, Freddie Roach would say instructions to Manny, and then the 'Cousin Boy' in the corner, would translate.. but completely wrong.. hahahaha.. Freddie Roach would be all like "keep it in the center of the ring, once you back touches the ropes, step to the side and get out. Keep it in the center. keep turning him" - Cousin boy is in then translates it like this "Move your head side to side, in and out, go in punch then out.. in and out" Ahh cousin boy... you are the worst translator of all time... Good thing Manny understands english anyways..
- I wore my authentic Nike Team Pacquiao shirt all weekend. Kinda needs a washing now.
- I know this for a fact... the Vegas after fight party at Mannys hotel, had pansit, lechon baboy (pig on a spit, with apple in the mouth) and lumpia shanghai. Maybe balut. "You go por Pree"
- Humble Manny. "to all da pilipino who lub da baxing, tank you berrry muts"
-Fight aside, never have i seen so many old filipinos with dyed black hair celebrating in the ring like they won themselves. Dyed black hair, with brylcreem.. hahaha... Because they dont want to show grey. SOOOO filipino. Thats like my tito cesar, up until the last few years when he gave up to it.
- Have no idea what the frack bernard hopkins was so intimately there for. Like from the weigh-in all the way to the after fight interviews, hopkins was within 2 inches of oscar all the time. Hounding around, muggin his face. Sure hes partners in business and all, but what the? comeon.
- In the corner, Freddie Roach would say instructions to Manny, and then the 'Cousin Boy' in the corner, would translate.. but completely wrong.. hahahaha.. Freddie Roach would be all like "keep it in the center of the ring, once you back touches the ropes, step to the side and get out. Keep it in the center. keep turning him" - Cousin boy is in then translates it like this "Move your head side to side, in and out, go in punch then out.. in and out" Ahh cousin boy... you are the worst translator of all time... Good thing Manny understands english anyways..
- I wore my authentic Nike Team Pacquiao shirt all weekend. Kinda needs a washing now.
- I know this for a fact... the Vegas after fight party at Mannys hotel, had pansit, lechon baboy (pig on a spit, with apple in the mouth) and lumpia shanghai. Maybe balut. "You go por Pree"
- Humble Manny. "to all da pilipino who lub da baxing, tank you berrry muts"
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
"hes an A$$h0L3"
Im conflicted, but I might have to give props to the 'shithead on a stick' Sean Avery... but I dont really actually want to.
He may have pulled off the ultimate revenge burn while at THE EXACT SAME TIME renew his official licence for the title of 'King of all Douchebags' . Hows that even possible? Are jerk wads of the Avery mold even allowed to revenge burn? Its not like JT on Britney with his "Cry Me a River". The general public felt for JT, he was done wrong by trailer park trash with lipstick, so we had his back. Avery though is the exact opposite, I can probably find a Romanian Gypsy or two that are more popular.
For a little background to those out of step on the NHL, Sean Avery plays for the Dallas Stars and is the most hated player in Hockey, a Wanker of the highest order. He gained this status being cheap and irritating and annoying, just being his wanker self, actually, on the ice and in front of the media mic and cameras. Despite this, somehow, through magical trickery, he scored Elisha Cuthbert a while back, the gorgeous girl from 24. But she dumped his ass.
Here now read this article from ESPN
I dont know. I laughed at the move. But man... what a dumbass.
He may have pulled off the ultimate revenge burn while at THE EXACT SAME TIME renew his official licence for the title of 'King of all Douchebags' . Hows that even possible? Are jerk wads of the Avery mold even allowed to revenge burn? Its not like JT on Britney with his "Cry Me a River". The general public felt for JT, he was done wrong by trailer park trash with lipstick, so we had his back. Avery though is the exact opposite, I can probably find a Romanian Gypsy or two that are more popular.
For a little background to those out of step on the NHL, Sean Avery plays for the Dallas Stars and is the most hated player in Hockey, a Wanker of the highest order. He gained this status being cheap and irritating and annoying, just being his wanker self, actually, on the ice and in front of the media mic and cameras. Despite this, somehow, through magical trickery, he scored Elisha Cuthbert a while back, the gorgeous girl from 24. But she dumped his ass.
Here now read this article from ESPN
I dont know. I laughed at the move. But man... what a dumbass.
Monday, December 01, 2008
The trials of a cripple
Okay! Lets start a new Post...
Its Dec. 1st y'all. Most people by now might know i am crippled with a severely sprained ankle (Out 5 weeks with a hard cast: grade 2 or 3 spraining: meaning ligament tearing, potentially complete tear. Immobilization time required for ligaments to repair and heal at the correct length).
What this means is that I am now working from home, recommended by the Drogheda Lady of Lourdes Hospital that I do not go to work. I cant walk, and I cant drive. Im completely useless and hopeless. Im about 2 weeks into it with 3 weeks to go. And seriously I am cracking up, going bonkers... coo coo for cocoa puffs.
Lets start from the beginning first: I broke it almost 2.5 weeks ago, playing soccer, I was going in on goal, breakaway situation, tried to get around the goalie's left, he went for my legs, I jumped at an angle, and then landed, but very badly. At least in my final motion, I still scored the goal (Feckin Rights I scored). I didnt really break it though, as I have mentioned above, only the first doctor I saw suspected it might be slightly fractured, but it sounds better when I say it that way, and to be fair, 5.5 weeks is a very long time to have a disability due to sprain, which first of all questions the abilities or methods of these Irish doctors. 6 weeks is the healing time for a real fracture, for crying out loud.
So what is it like being completely useless and hopeless for weeks upon weeks?
Well for one, its a daily battle to keep my feet from smelling like bad French Cheese. When you have a cast on your foot and lower leg, its not allowed to get wet. Getting wet is a bad idea. Only problem is that feet sweat. Like ALOT. You know how youre feet start feeling unbearably grime after being forced to wear the same socks for two days in a row? Well I can say with no pride, that it feels like Ive been wearing the same sock for 2.5 weeks now. Its disgusting. Imagine what it will be like 2-3 weeks from now: Mushrooms could be growing in there, for all I know. The best I can do is carefully wash my toes with a warm towel, so at least the webbing of my toes are April Fresh. Even still, I cant wait to get this bastard of a thing off.
Not being allowed to get the cast wet also poses another daily (but now slowly waning to bi-daily ) obstacle: washing myself. I made the typical rookie mistake of thinking I could wrap my cast in plastic bags and then shower with the 'one leg in, one leg out' technique. This was very awkward though, converting a normally soothing activity into a strenuous one. Nobody wins here. After trying that out for a few days, I felt for the sake of the environment Id go to the bath route (Im saving in wasted plastic bags to cover my cast). And this was very good direction to go in. by propping my damaged foot on bath wall and letting it hang, there is no cause for discomfort. Its win win. The only downside is the perperation required.. but then again Im at home all the time, so no big deal.
Food is another challenge, because I might as well have the same challenges of an agrophobic (fear of outside, open spaces). Meaning Im stuck inside my place and cant move. Again I cant drive, and I can only last 10-20 mins on my crutches, so Im completely dependent on delivery. I got some sympathy in the first few weeks, with people visiting and giving me rides and dropping off food. People tend to forget you though after a week. Im a victim of media's 24 hour cycle and short attention spans. Hardly anyone visits anymore and so Im now forced to ration. Order chinese one day, Pizza another, and then maybe Indian the next. Hopefully someone will take me to groceries soon, because If I havent told you already, Ill tell you again, take out food is completely substandard in Ireland. But Beggers cant choose. As a kid I thought itd always be cool to get a cast. As an adult, its complete ass.
One final thing ( and please forgive me for being politically in-expedient for a second, but its true so Im saying it), Ireland for some reason only has the retard-kind of crutches, and nothing else. By retard-kind I mean like the ones Timmy uses in South Park, or the kids in Jerrys telethons; those elbow prop up metal kinds, where it hooks around your forearm, and it looks like I should be wearing a helmet. Unbelievable, these things are awkward as feck, Id take the good ol North American armpit crutches any day. I wonder if its because the Irish Nation Medical board thinks they are saving money by going this route... along with the stereotype image I have, as Jil would say, ...its bullshit.
Happy December everyone!
Its Dec. 1st y'all. Most people by now might know i am crippled with a severely sprained ankle (Out 5 weeks with a hard cast: grade 2 or 3 spraining: meaning ligament tearing, potentially complete tear. Immobilization time required for ligaments to repair and heal at the correct length).
What this means is that I am now working from home, recommended by the Drogheda Lady of Lourdes Hospital that I do not go to work. I cant walk, and I cant drive. Im completely useless and hopeless. Im about 2 weeks into it with 3 weeks to go. And seriously I am cracking up, going bonkers... coo coo for cocoa puffs.
Lets start from the beginning first: I broke it almost 2.5 weeks ago, playing soccer, I was going in on goal, breakaway situation, tried to get around the goalie's left, he went for my legs, I jumped at an angle, and then landed, but very badly. At least in my final motion, I still scored the goal (Feckin Rights I scored). I didnt really break it though, as I have mentioned above, only the first doctor I saw suspected it might be slightly fractured, but it sounds better when I say it that way, and to be fair, 5.5 weeks is a very long time to have a disability due to sprain, which first of all questions the abilities or methods of these Irish doctors. 6 weeks is the healing time for a real fracture, for crying out loud.
So what is it like being completely useless and hopeless for weeks upon weeks?
Well for one, its a daily battle to keep my feet from smelling like bad French Cheese. When you have a cast on your foot and lower leg, its not allowed to get wet. Getting wet is a bad idea. Only problem is that feet sweat. Like ALOT. You know how youre feet start feeling unbearably grime after being forced to wear the same socks for two days in a row? Well I can say with no pride, that it feels like Ive been wearing the same sock for 2.5 weeks now. Its disgusting. Imagine what it will be like 2-3 weeks from now: Mushrooms could be growing in there, for all I know. The best I can do is carefully wash my toes with a warm towel, so at least the webbing of my toes are April Fresh. Even still, I cant wait to get this bastard of a thing off.
Not being allowed to get the cast wet also poses another daily (but now slowly waning to bi-daily ) obstacle: washing myself. I made the typical rookie mistake of thinking I could wrap my cast in plastic bags and then shower with the 'one leg in, one leg out' technique. This was very awkward though, converting a normally soothing activity into a strenuous one. Nobody wins here. After trying that out for a few days, I felt for the sake of the environment Id go to the bath route (Im saving in wasted plastic bags to cover my cast). And this was very good direction to go in. by propping my damaged foot on bath wall and letting it hang, there is no cause for discomfort. Its win win. The only downside is the perperation required.. but then again Im at home all the time, so no big deal.
Food is another challenge, because I might as well have the same challenges of an agrophobic (fear of outside, open spaces). Meaning Im stuck inside my place and cant move. Again I cant drive, and I can only last 10-20 mins on my crutches, so Im completely dependent on delivery. I got some sympathy in the first few weeks, with people visiting and giving me rides and dropping off food. People tend to forget you though after a week. Im a victim of media's 24 hour cycle and short attention spans. Hardly anyone visits anymore and so Im now forced to ration. Order chinese one day, Pizza another, and then maybe Indian the next. Hopefully someone will take me to groceries soon, because If I havent told you already, Ill tell you again, take out food is completely substandard in Ireland. But Beggers cant choose. As a kid I thought itd always be cool to get a cast. As an adult, its complete ass.
One final thing ( and please forgive me for being politically in-expedient for a second, but its true so Im saying it), Ireland for some reason only has the retard-kind of crutches, and nothing else. By retard-kind I mean like the ones Timmy uses in South Park, or the kids in Jerrys telethons; those elbow prop up metal kinds, where it hooks around your forearm, and it looks like I should be wearing a helmet. Unbelievable, these things are awkward as feck, Id take the good ol North American armpit crutches any day. I wonder if its because the Irish Nation Medical board thinks they are saving money by going this route... along with the stereotype image I have, as Jil would say, ...its bullshit.
Happy December everyone!
Thursday, November 13, 2008
How to judge objectively..
I think I am pretty unique in the way I judge people. Most of us use looks, character, manners, a persons language, their temper, their attentiveness and of course most importantly a person's fashion sense. I use most of those too. But I actually add a few more that are more specific and off the beaten path, the road least travelled, if you will. This is just me though. These are deeply personal. :D
-Before we start, people have to agree that Brenda, Dylan, Kelly, Steve, Brandon, Andrea and Donna comprised the greatest cast ensemble in the complete unabridged records of Television. If you think Im missing someone, Im not, because that guy was a tool. He doesnt even deserve that name. He should be called Bronze. or Copper.
-I judge people based on their chopstick skills. I do. If you cant use chopsticks, sorry there is something about you to be left wanting. Full stop. Or you better have a bulletproof, water tight, goretex excuse like "you have no hands" or "you are mentally handicapped" or "you're country bred Irish". And for those who are, lets say, 'unconventional' or 'unorthodox' in their chopsticking (the cross chicken technique, and the low bridge hold technique, etc.), for example like a certain 'P to the Ham', well lets just say you are walking a razors edge...
- I judge also by one of the most polarizing topics in Pop Culture. MJ. Michael Jackson. Thriller has to be respected as the best album ever produced in the history of forever. There is no compromising on this. I dont care what he looks like now, he has Peter Pan disease and Vitelago skin botches, so he gets a pass. And even Cho, my Prince worshiping childhood friend will have to nod his head in quiet approval.
- Unattached earlobe? okay. Attached earlobe? Disgusting...
- If you were a fan of the Bulls during the late 80s and early 90s, a Cowboys fan during the 90s, then Im not sure I want to be your friend. Because this would mean you are a complete Poser. Or a Pana, whatever. Unfortunately two of my best friends fall into this category. Moreover, to add insult to injury, they are Yankees fans too. Unbelievable what i put up with sometimes for the sake of best friends. (80s Oilers fans, and 80s-90s 49ers fans are okay though. I like those teams thats why)
- Uggs. If you wear Uggs outside of the confines of your home (for other than feet warming abilities)? Im sorry but its quite possible youre on the rickety path to Stephon Marbury levels of douchbaginess, in my books, and that is not a good thing. Uggs ( and the close cousin, the rubber rain boots with fancy print) are 2000s version of Disco one piece suits with butterfly collar. Like seriously, I bet sometimes people in the higher echelons of fashion sometimes have ' I dare you' bets for the laugh, and then awkwardly are visaibly uncomfortable when they create a uncontrollabe monster trend with the sheep followers of no soul society. Fluorescent tops? Acid wash jeans? Piano key Ties? Mens Leather pants? Crocs? Chicks with jeans to the belly button? Everyone knows how retarded they look now. Im just sayin...
-
-Before we start, people have to agree that Brenda, Dylan, Kelly, Steve, Brandon, Andrea and Donna comprised the greatest cast ensemble in the complete unabridged records of Television. If you think Im missing someone, Im not, because that guy was a tool. He doesnt even deserve that name. He should be called Bronze. or Copper.
-I judge people based on their chopstick skills. I do. If you cant use chopsticks, sorry there is something about you to be left wanting. Full stop. Or you better have a bulletproof, water tight, goretex excuse like "you have no hands" or "you are mentally handicapped" or "you're country bred Irish". And for those who are, lets say, 'unconventional' or 'unorthodox' in their chopsticking (the cross chicken technique, and the low bridge hold technique, etc.), for example like a certain 'P to the Ham', well lets just say you are walking a razors edge...
- I judge also by one of the most polarizing topics in Pop Culture. MJ. Michael Jackson. Thriller has to be respected as the best album ever produced in the history of forever. There is no compromising on this. I dont care what he looks like now, he has Peter Pan disease and Vitelago skin botches, so he gets a pass. And even Cho, my Prince worshiping childhood friend will have to nod his head in quiet approval.
- Unattached earlobe? okay. Attached earlobe? Disgusting...
- If you were a fan of the Bulls during the late 80s and early 90s, a Cowboys fan during the 90s, then Im not sure I want to be your friend. Because this would mean you are a complete Poser. Or a Pana, whatever. Unfortunately two of my best friends fall into this category. Moreover, to add insult to injury, they are Yankees fans too. Unbelievable what i put up with sometimes for the sake of best friends. (80s Oilers fans, and 80s-90s 49ers fans are okay though. I like those teams thats why)
- Uggs. If you wear Uggs outside of the confines of your home (for other than feet warming abilities)? Im sorry but its quite possible youre on the rickety path to Stephon Marbury levels of douchbaginess, in my books, and that is not a good thing. Uggs ( and the close cousin, the rubber rain boots with fancy print) are 2000s version of Disco one piece suits with butterfly collar. Like seriously, I bet sometimes people in the higher echelons of fashion sometimes have ' I dare you' bets for the laugh, and then awkwardly are visaibly uncomfortable when they create a uncontrollabe monster trend with the sheep followers of no soul society. Fluorescent tops? Acid wash jeans? Piano key Ties? Mens Leather pants? Crocs? Chicks with jeans to the belly button? Everyone knows how retarded they look now. Im just sayin...
-
Saturday, November 08, 2008
"Yo... where the white women at?"
That would be the answer to the question: What does Barack Obama aks when he enters a room from now on?
4 years ago I posted how personally devastated I was after the last election, however illogical that may sound since Im not even American, and how it actually dominated my dreams the night of before waking up to find out the results. This time around, happily it was the exact opposite. Now bring on the "Sarah Palin is so dumb... " jokes.
"Sarah Palin is soooo dumb, she thought the capital of China was Chinatown.." (Thank you Daily Show for that one. I spit up my drink seriously) God love her.
Also loving the fact that the new chief of staff is Entourage's Ari Gold's brother. Like for real. For the past 2 months I have been absolutely ADDICTED to the online election coverage. Id get home, and first Id check out the previous nites Daily Show episode. Then I would move on to CNN and check out there video collection. Then I would move on to MSNBC and check out the videos from Morning Joe, Hardball, Countdown and Rachel Meadows. And somewhere in between, Id eat, if I remember. This went on every day since I arrived back into Ireland in September. Mad. (Mad as in crazy, not Mad as in angry. Im Irish now, obviously). In between I didnt even realize that Canada had an election somewhere in between. No one even told me. However I did know exactly what Nailin Palin was doin every minute of every hour. Then in the morning, we would discuss these events with Irish lads over coffee break, highlighting how far reaching this event has become. On the weekend then, I watch the latest Real Time with Bill Maher episode from Friday night. In some ways its was a pleasant routine. No idea what Im going to do now... write on my blog maybe.. nahhhhhhhh..
4 years ago I posted how personally devastated I was after the last election, however illogical that may sound since Im not even American, and how it actually dominated my dreams the night of before waking up to find out the results. This time around, happily it was the exact opposite. Now bring on the "Sarah Palin is so dumb... " jokes.
"Sarah Palin is soooo dumb, she thought the capital of China was Chinatown.." (Thank you Daily Show for that one. I spit up my drink seriously) God love her.
Also loving the fact that the new chief of staff is Entourage's Ari Gold's brother. Like for real. For the past 2 months I have been absolutely ADDICTED to the online election coverage. Id get home, and first Id check out the previous nites Daily Show episode. Then I would move on to CNN and check out there video collection. Then I would move on to MSNBC and check out the videos from Morning Joe, Hardball, Countdown and Rachel Meadows. And somewhere in between, Id eat, if I remember. This went on every day since I arrived back into Ireland in September. Mad. (Mad as in crazy, not Mad as in angry. Im Irish now, obviously). In between I didnt even realize that Canada had an election somewhere in between. No one even told me. However I did know exactly what Nailin Palin was doin every minute of every hour. Then in the morning, we would discuss these events with Irish lads over coffee break, highlighting how far reaching this event has become. On the weekend then, I watch the latest Real Time with Bill Maher episode from Friday night. In some ways its was a pleasant routine. No idea what Im going to do now... write on my blog maybe.. nahhhhhhhh..
Friday, October 31, 2008
Woeful and Poor
I dont think anyone reads this thing anymore. I have probably contributed to that, some. Need to write gooder and more frequenter in order for anyone to be compelled to visit but I do have the worst case of writers block, lasting almost a few months, and simultaneously Ive lost my humor. Where did my baby go? I wonder where she ran off to. And Its not like I dont have anything to write about. I do. My sister got married over 2 months ago for example, and have since moved on to New Zealand. It was an exhausting wedding for me, I now shudder at the prospect of ever doing a 3 event wedding ever again, but that being said, still thoroughly fulfilling simultaneously, it was my sister getting married after all. It cant get much more special... more special than my own probably, because I reckon mine, with personally ingrained farouche tendencies, would be spontaneous and exclusive during a random getaway (I can only gather).
Then I went to New York for a few days with Lisa and Sofi. And ran my first distance race. Somehow surviving without injury, which is a huge accomplisment by itself becuase, well I have bad feet. For real. Not bad as in ugly, (personally I believe I could be a foot model), but bad as in they do not react favorably to long distance concrete running. They are much more in favor of long distance sponge floor running, but alas the world is not paved with gymnastic mats, as fun and practical as that may sound. Then I went to Scotland, Edinburgh and Glasglow for work... visiting both cities for the first time in almost 9 years. This was trippy because both were the first European cities I had ever visited, and therefore held a delightful mark in my memories, and now being forced to contrast to my current biases (Edinburgh still holds up.. Glasglow, not so much). Then there was a weekend in Sardinia Italy, meeting up with the Pachows as an interlude to their Italian honeymoon. Of course it rained for the first time in like a 100 days just when we arrived, but hey, the craic was still mighty.
Now Ive regressed, and thankfully remembered to post on this very Halloween night with no plans. If I waited till tomorrow, Martins bday, then I would of broken one of my few most cherished rules. Post at least once a month. Phew, I have grown to be largely pathetic, I admit, but at least i made one save... but really with no audience, Im practically writing to myself.
Mini highlights of the last 3 months;
- Purchased a blu ray player. Im now addicted to everything HD because Im enthralled at just the chance of watching beads of sweat roll down someones nose in intimate detail. Also counting down the days to the release of WALL-E.
- While training for the New York Human race, I once ran 3 days in a row, which is like a huge record for me.
- Its Halloween, and I love the fact that there are no kids that live near my apartment. I rule.
- Going to watch the new James Bond tonight. Yes this is a highlight.
- Over the last 3 months, I cant for the life of me, stop listening to Glas Vegas, MGMT and Vampire Weekend. And usually I get sick of songs rather quickly.
- I successfully pulled off my first mid game soccer step overs last week, without looking like an idiot in slow mo, or tripping over the ball mid stream, that is.
- I can no longer hold my liquor. 3 weeks in a row I have gone out on Friday night, and the next morning felt like a pair baboon balls. Im old.
- Was scolded for wearing jeans that were light blue, although the scolder insisted that they are white. White jeans? are you like for real? Well, that scolder is deluded and has occasional lapses in fashion sense, so I paid no mind.
- Its been two months since I have purchase an article of clothing, which is alike another huge record for me.
- On a related note, tomorrow Im off to Belfast. Might buy some Uggs, if I find them.
Then I went to New York for a few days with Lisa and Sofi. And ran my first distance race. Somehow surviving without injury, which is a huge accomplisment by itself becuase, well I have bad feet. For real. Not bad as in ugly, (personally I believe I could be a foot model), but bad as in they do not react favorably to long distance concrete running. They are much more in favor of long distance sponge floor running, but alas the world is not paved with gymnastic mats, as fun and practical as that may sound. Then I went to Scotland, Edinburgh and Glasglow for work... visiting both cities for the first time in almost 9 years. This was trippy because both were the first European cities I had ever visited, and therefore held a delightful mark in my memories, and now being forced to contrast to my current biases (Edinburgh still holds up.. Glasglow, not so much). Then there was a weekend in Sardinia Italy, meeting up with the Pachows as an interlude to their Italian honeymoon. Of course it rained for the first time in like a 100 days just when we arrived, but hey, the craic was still mighty.
Now Ive regressed, and thankfully remembered to post on this very Halloween night with no plans. If I waited till tomorrow, Martins bday, then I would of broken one of my few most cherished rules. Post at least once a month. Phew, I have grown to be largely pathetic, I admit, but at least i made one save... but really with no audience, Im practically writing to myself.
Mini highlights of the last 3 months;
- Purchased a blu ray player. Im now addicted to everything HD because Im enthralled at just the chance of watching beads of sweat roll down someones nose in intimate detail. Also counting down the days to the release of WALL-E.
- While training for the New York Human race, I once ran 3 days in a row, which is like a huge record for me.
- Its Halloween, and I love the fact that there are no kids that live near my apartment. I rule.
- Going to watch the new James Bond tonight. Yes this is a highlight.
- Over the last 3 months, I cant for the life of me, stop listening to Glas Vegas, MGMT and Vampire Weekend. And usually I get sick of songs rather quickly.
- I successfully pulled off my first mid game soccer step overs last week, without looking like an idiot in slow mo, or tripping over the ball mid stream, that is.
- I can no longer hold my liquor. 3 weeks in a row I have gone out on Friday night, and the next morning felt like a pair baboon balls. Im old.
- Was scolded for wearing jeans that were light blue, although the scolder insisted that they are white. White jeans? are you like for real? Well, that scolder is deluded and has occasional lapses in fashion sense, so I paid no mind.
- Its been two months since I have purchase an article of clothing, which is alike another huge record for me.
- On a related note, tomorrow Im off to Belfast. Might buy some Uggs, if I find them.
Monday, September 29, 2008
As the world turns..
Its been over 6 weeks since I wrote last, and there is a bunch that I yet still have to chronicle; Sisters Wedding, trip to New York, trip to Scotland, trip to Sardinia. Ill get to it I promise... A great 3 week period, but Im just a little exhausted from all of it...
Im also occupied at the moment, by the unbelievable drama going on right now in the world... holy fack... pardon my German... but you have to understand how fascinating this whole story is right now, its big: the financial collapse coupled with the US Election and the side storys and peripheral plots and multiple arcs (Palin a deer in headlights, global markets crashing, credit markets and bank liquidity evaporating to shit, Bush getting his bailout squashed because a few republicans got their feelings hurt by the house speakers speech, McCain doing his best trying not to look desperate, and Obama trying to maintain posture throughout all this ridiculousness) Like who needs to watch primetime TV anymore, whats going on in real life is much more intriguing... I know its unwise to curb to the current news "global financial collapse, great depression" promotion ... we are hit by it so widely and frequently, it feels like another 'Iraq War' propaganda campaign. Still... i cant get enough right now... I just cant get enough...
back to CNN online, and refresh Google news..
Im also occupied at the moment, by the unbelievable drama going on right now in the world... holy fack... pardon my German... but you have to understand how fascinating this whole story is right now, its big: the financial collapse coupled with the US Election and the side storys and peripheral plots and multiple arcs (Palin a deer in headlights, global markets crashing, credit markets and bank liquidity evaporating to shit, Bush getting his bailout squashed because a few republicans got their feelings hurt by the house speakers speech, McCain doing his best trying not to look desperate, and Obama trying to maintain posture throughout all this ridiculousness) Like who needs to watch primetime TV anymore, whats going on in real life is much more intriguing... I know its unwise to curb to the current news "global financial collapse, great depression" promotion ... we are hit by it so widely and frequently, it feels like another 'Iraq War' propaganda campaign. Still... i cant get enough right now... I just cant get enough...
back to CNN online, and refresh Google news..
Friday, August 15, 2008
Harry and the Hendersons.
This absolutely blew me away. CNN has just reported that there has been the discovery of a dead Bigfoot body. Holy noli guacamole, like seriously? And not News of the World, but CNN, and anyways the Internets doesnt lie. So this just goes to show that there was good reason for me to be deathly afraid of being in the woods at night as a child. And it wasnt a waste when I was reading all those Bigfoot books in Grade 7. Who knows, its most likely another alien autopsy, another hoax, but Im going to closely follow this story as it develops.
Post Editors note: 3 hours later, it sounds like a stupid hoax.
In unrelated news... Phelps makes me sick.
Post Editors note: 3 hours later, it sounds like a stupid hoax.
In unrelated news... Phelps makes me sick.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Run, Fatboy Run..
I got dupped. I got swindled. I got kanoodled. Tricked. Pressured. And Im so nervous now, because in some sort of delusional logic, when I was not thinking straight, I got 'convinced' into running a 10K race, by Jill and Lisa. During a vacation period I might add, when I should be shopping, eating and gallivanting.
We will all be in New York on 31/08/08, the date of the Nike Human Race, and they decided we had to run it. New York, in which I expect extreme muggy conditions with 110% Relative Humidity, because this is going to be New York in August. Not quite so much the perfect running conditions or for me, more likely the perfect conditions for death by accelerated dehydration and oxygen deficiency and lack of cardiovascular aptitude.
Now I realize a 10K race is easy peasy Japanesy to some, and I fully understand and recognize that. But not to me. I want to let it be known that I am a terribly horrific runner. Always have been, always will, and I loath running because I have bad feet, which goes tag team along with my infantile lungs. Its just so much harder for me, Im a self diagnosed handicap in this regard. Like back in High School, starting in grade 8, when we had to do cross country running, I was one of the kids that always finished later, almost missing the start of the next class period, along with the fat kids and the prissy girls group. So therefore I hated, H8 ED cross country running during PE. It was pretty much a couple levels higher than gymnastics and square dancing. When in grade 10 and the 'speed walking' alternative was introduced, I celebrated to the high heavens and the holy cow, because i wouldnt have to run ever again. Little did I know, walking was hard too, but not nearly has devastating as running. Simply Im just obsecenly bad at running, and I wasnt even jealous of those that were good at it. I figured if I had enough speed and endurance to run after a bus, then thats all I would ever need.
At least then, as a kid, I didnt have bad feet. Now I do. I discovered this about 7 years ago when I started running again, mostly out of shame and osmosis because I was living in Kits Point at the time, and people were running by me on the beach walk, like ALL the time. I wanted to belong, which fed into my substantial insecurities, so I started running a little with Neil. Ended up being okay with it, until I prematurely ran a 10K around False Creek which subsequently shattered my poor feet. I wasnt quite ready for that distance yet, and as a result I couldnt walk afterwards, and any further running after that day produced sharp pains up my leg, kinda like the lightning bolts travelling up bones like they illustrate in the cartoons, but in this case, for real. Thats how it felt. It was like a broken glass in my foots. And suffice to say, that was the second and last 10K I ever ran. It was even the last 1K I ever ran. So as you can understand Im afraid. Im opening myself up to permanently injurying myself and requiring surgery... some might say that Im being dramatic, but given my history, I say there is a chance, so dont mock. I like walking painfree, you see. I dont want to give it up.
Smug Jill. Shes laughing now, because she runs 10K in the morning before work. Lisas definitely going to kick my ass too, even though she says she gets bored with running like how I do, she at least is active and possess atheletic abilities. ME? No.. not so much. It wouldnt be so bad either if we decided to do this 10K with like 12 weeks of training, so that I could at least build up my weak feet,and gain a chance to run a decent time, in the 50+ minutes, sub 60. This is after all a race, running 10K is not really an issue for me if I jogged the whole time. However, we only decided last week, with the race only a mere two & half weeks away. With almost no time for training, theres no WAY Im running under 60 minutes now, especially if the training regiment the 4 days prior while in NY will involve just a bunch of restaurant eating, shopping, Yankees game watching and loads of drinking. As a result since this is a race with published results, Ill have no pride left, itll be found on the ground, next to my post race vomit. I will lose to two friends and a clock. Now if only it was kosher to run slow and finish this in the rear pack again, with the fat people and senior citizens.
So if Im in crutches in 3 weeks time, because the bones in my feet imploded... you'll know who Im blaming.
We will all be in New York on 31/08/08, the date of the Nike Human Race, and they decided we had to run it. New York, in which I expect extreme muggy conditions with 110% Relative Humidity, because this is going to be New York in August. Not quite so much the perfect running conditions or for me, more likely the perfect conditions for death by accelerated dehydration and oxygen deficiency and lack of cardiovascular aptitude.
Now I realize a 10K race is easy peasy Japanesy to some, and I fully understand and recognize that. But not to me. I want to let it be known that I am a terribly horrific runner. Always have been, always will, and I loath running because I have bad feet, which goes tag team along with my infantile lungs. Its just so much harder for me, Im a self diagnosed handicap in this regard. Like back in High School, starting in grade 8, when we had to do cross country running, I was one of the kids that always finished later, almost missing the start of the next class period, along with the fat kids and the prissy girls group. So therefore I hated, H8 ED cross country running during PE. It was pretty much a couple levels higher than gymnastics and square dancing. When in grade 10 and the 'speed walking' alternative was introduced, I celebrated to the high heavens and the holy cow, because i wouldnt have to run ever again. Little did I know, walking was hard too, but not nearly has devastating as running. Simply Im just obsecenly bad at running, and I wasnt even jealous of those that were good at it. I figured if I had enough speed and endurance to run after a bus, then thats all I would ever need.
At least then, as a kid, I didnt have bad feet. Now I do. I discovered this about 7 years ago when I started running again, mostly out of shame and osmosis because I was living in Kits Point at the time, and people were running by me on the beach walk, like ALL the time. I wanted to belong, which fed into my substantial insecurities, so I started running a little with Neil. Ended up being okay with it, until I prematurely ran a 10K around False Creek which subsequently shattered my poor feet. I wasnt quite ready for that distance yet, and as a result I couldnt walk afterwards, and any further running after that day produced sharp pains up my leg, kinda like the lightning bolts travelling up bones like they illustrate in the cartoons, but in this case, for real. Thats how it felt. It was like a broken glass in my foots. And suffice to say, that was the second and last 10K I ever ran. It was even the last 1K I ever ran. So as you can understand Im afraid. Im opening myself up to permanently injurying myself and requiring surgery... some might say that Im being dramatic, but given my history, I say there is a chance, so dont mock. I like walking painfree, you see. I dont want to give it up.
Smug Jill. Shes laughing now, because she runs 10K in the morning before work. Lisas definitely going to kick my ass too, even though she says she gets bored with running like how I do, she at least is active and possess atheletic abilities. ME? No.. not so much. It wouldnt be so bad either if we decided to do this 10K with like 12 weeks of training, so that I could at least build up my weak feet,and gain a chance to run a decent time, in the 50+ minutes, sub 60. This is after all a race, running 10K is not really an issue for me if I jogged the whole time. However, we only decided last week, with the race only a mere two & half weeks away. With almost no time for training, theres no WAY Im running under 60 minutes now, especially if the training regiment the 4 days prior while in NY will involve just a bunch of restaurant eating, shopping, Yankees game watching and loads of drinking. As a result since this is a race with published results, Ill have no pride left, itll be found on the ground, next to my post race vomit. I will lose to two friends and a clock. Now if only it was kosher to run slow and finish this in the rear pack again, with the fat people and senior citizens.
So if Im in crutches in 3 weeks time, because the bones in my feet imploded... you'll know who Im blaming.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long...
I slept pretty much most of the day today this Sunday, the day of rest. Its 22:00 and Ive only been awake for 2 hours, after a monumental and much needed nap. And Im still tired; no word of a lie, I was thinking of eating some tapioca pudding, my favorite pudding of all time, made even more desirable because they dont have tapioca pudding in stupid Ireland, but still decided not to, because that would require walking 20 feet towards the kitchen. Im fine just right here, I thought to myself. Tapioca Pudding. All because Marty got married to Lorrie yesterday at the Patterson Farm at Lindell Beach, near Cultus Lake, Chilliwack.
Im sitting here, trying to type, already having erased a few attempts that werent good enough, trying somehow to do this wedding justice but I cant, Im just not that talented enough of a writer. It deserves a grand scale synopsis, with eloquence that I cant seem to put together right. Nevermind that Im too exhausted and completely brain spent. All I can say is this: There is something about that day that is beyond the reach of words, something that escapes even my best efforts to spit it out, yet at its very least, it captured the best of us, of this circle of friends, sharing a night so rich and different and beautiful that it was beyond everything we could of ever hoped for. Thanks Marty, Lorrie, love ya.
Now for a few highlights:
- Who would of thought, Marty's mom and brother are bloody funny! Marty sucks in comparison, like really. And toast up to Sam: for releasing the heavyweight championship of the world belt and introducing our new favorite couple, Mar-rie Pachow.
- Wedding line of the night, from Table 23: Morris -> 'Love is like a tree. Because trees grow. And everyone loves trees...'
- One thing I learned last night, beware when dancing around Huong with a strappy dress, she tends to inadvertantly flash people. Josh so missed out.
- At 10 O'Clock, after behaving for most of the day, the NPC finally showed up. No Pace Chow... this was the party Marty we know. Not too much later, I helped reverse his jacket to reveal the Paisley side of life, and then it was over. Just like Over the Top, when Lincoln Hawk turns his hat around, its like a switch. By the end of the night, he was dancing topless. Cold times.
- Christian is the winner of the award for looking exactly the same at the end of the wedding as he did at the beginning of the wedding.
- Needless to say, Marty wins for the exact opposite.
- Best Dress: Well Lorrie of course.
- 2nd Best Dress: Everyone looked absolutely stunning... tie. (Political answer, but also honest)
- Rain cleanses........ and makes for a fun dance floor.
- Jill and Lisa were dancing in Uggs. Apparently to annoy me. It worked. I hope the staining from the rain will render them unwearable from this day forward. Cuz that would teach them a lesson.. dont wear Uggs.
- This was the first wedding that I can remember where U2 was not played by the DJ. Or Nsync.. like WTF? I could be wrong... at least I hope Im wrong.
- If everyone wasnt so tired or drunk, Im sure Adams stint sleeping outside on his own would of ended in an epic prank we all could of told our grand kids. Alas, again the combination of inebriation and fatigue thwarts creativity and gets us nowhere.
- Nothing is better than waking up hungover, in a tent, to the smell of sausages and bacon cooking in the distance... like are you kidding me.. so good.
- I mentioned this when we were leaving but... given it was a outdoor camping wedding, Im sure if we all got together for a class action dry cleaning, we would get an amazing discount.
Thanks again to the Chow and Patterson families for a completely amazing wedding for the ages.
Im sitting here, trying to type, already having erased a few attempts that werent good enough, trying somehow to do this wedding justice but I cant, Im just not that talented enough of a writer. It deserves a grand scale synopsis, with eloquence that I cant seem to put together right. Nevermind that Im too exhausted and completely brain spent. All I can say is this: There is something about that day that is beyond the reach of words, something that escapes even my best efforts to spit it out, yet at its very least, it captured the best of us, of this circle of friends, sharing a night so rich and different and beautiful that it was beyond everything we could of ever hoped for. Thanks Marty, Lorrie, love ya.
Now for a few highlights:
- Who would of thought, Marty's mom and brother are bloody funny! Marty sucks in comparison, like really. And toast up to Sam: for releasing the heavyweight championship of the world belt and introducing our new favorite couple, Mar-rie Pachow.
- Wedding line of the night, from Table 23: Morris -> 'Love is like a tree. Because trees grow. And everyone loves trees...'
- One thing I learned last night, beware when dancing around Huong with a strappy dress, she tends to inadvertantly flash people. Josh so missed out.
- At 10 O'Clock, after behaving for most of the day, the NPC finally showed up. No Pace Chow... this was the party Marty we know. Not too much later, I helped reverse his jacket to reveal the Paisley side of life, and then it was over. Just like Over the Top, when Lincoln Hawk turns his hat around, its like a switch. By the end of the night, he was dancing topless. Cold times.
- Christian is the winner of the award for looking exactly the same at the end of the wedding as he did at the beginning of the wedding.
- Needless to say, Marty wins for the exact opposite.
- Best Dress: Well Lorrie of course.
- 2nd Best Dress: Everyone looked absolutely stunning... tie. (Political answer, but also honest)
- Rain cleanses........ and makes for a fun dance floor.
- Jill and Lisa were dancing in Uggs. Apparently to annoy me. It worked. I hope the staining from the rain will render them unwearable from this day forward. Cuz that would teach them a lesson.. dont wear Uggs.
- This was the first wedding that I can remember where U2 was not played by the DJ. Or Nsync.. like WTF? I could be wrong... at least I hope Im wrong.
- If everyone wasnt so tired or drunk, Im sure Adams stint sleeping outside on his own would of ended in an epic prank we all could of told our grand kids. Alas, again the combination of inebriation and fatigue thwarts creativity and gets us nowhere.
- Nothing is better than waking up hungover, in a tent, to the smell of sausages and bacon cooking in the distance... like are you kidding me.. so good.
- I mentioned this when we were leaving but... given it was a outdoor camping wedding, Im sure if we all got together for a class action dry cleaning, we would get an amazing discount.
Thanks again to the Chow and Patterson families for a completely amazing wedding for the ages.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Vancouver... I like counting
Im back in Vancouver again. I dont live here anymore, but there is something quite powerful and overcoming when flying into Vancouver in the midst of gorgeous blue skies weather. Watching it from above, the city can take your breath away. If I didnt have any carry-ons, I swear Id start skipping all the way to Immigration and the luggage claims.
And heres another thing that makes me uncontrollably happy... Fiest on Sesame Street with her Iconic song. Try not to smile and turn into a 5 year old all over again.
And heres another thing that makes me uncontrollably happy... Fiest on Sesame Street with her Iconic song. Try not to smile and turn into a 5 year old all over again.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Worst
Im in a terrible mood right now. Im actually Angry. Im sitting in the Terminal in Central Wisconsin Airport, just finished checking in and I just got charged $100 because one of my bags was overweight. Feck that, United Airlines, like really. Normally incidents such as this dont bother me that much, but its been a snowball situation for the last few days and I finally got to the point where I just spat out the pacificer. Truthfully, I shouldn't really be that mad because firstly I will expense it to work anyways, and to be fair, all Airlines now have restricted the amount of baggage allowable on flights, charging for 2nd bags, decreasing the weight limit per bag, etc. These new rules have been properly disclosed and communicated and it doesnt come out of my pocket, but it doesnt take away from the fact that they are stupidhead rules. One more reason to blame the Chinese and the Indians for developing stronger economies; increasing the global demand for resources, and therefore creating an ever escalating cost of living for the rest of us. Its so much more convenient when it boils down to a generalization, doesnt it?
Again normally I wouldnt be so mad, but hinderances and snags have been been building up for the last couple days. I have already alluded to my currently location: Im back in Wisconsin for round two in this scheduled 3 round bout. I was suppose to leave Friday morning but was informed that I would have to stay longer and work another weekend, my 4th weekend in 6 weeks. Dont mean to stutter, but I didnt mind too much, really, if only it just ended there. Fortunately I had a coleague, Big Paddy with me on this trip for a week. He got to go home Friday though, which left me on my lonesome. For the weekend. Again, by itself, not that bad. It turned for the worse on Sunday night, when I was called into the mill for coverage at the stupid O'clock time of 2:30am. On the night before I was suppose to fly. Seriously. Normally Id only be there for an hour or so, do my thing, and be out of there quicker than quick, so I could go back to my bed. Things did not go well though, things broke down, which made other things break down, and before you know it, I was a zombie crossed with a bear, leaving at 6am, with a 11am flight, and I had not slept yet. This all contributed to me doing something for the first time ever, I missed my flight. I went back to the hotel, to catch maybe 2 hours sleeps.... but my alarm didnt go off loud enough, and I woke up as my flight was taking off. And now Im here in the Airport getting charged $100 for being overweight ( which I was not charged for on the way here, I might add), on top of the $150 change flight fee. And to really piss me out more than anything, because I missed the morning flight, I lose 5 hours of shopping time in Chicago. Yes I was going to go shopping for shoes; now I probably only have 1.5 hours tops, which is basically the time I would allow for purchasing socks. If you subtract shoe shopping time from Noli, Noli starts kicking people in the mouth.
Im whinging, and I really shouldnt post this because it makes me sound like a whinging bitch; bad form. Nobody likes a whinging bitch, apart from Lawyers who client them, of course, but nobody likes them either. Ill regret it, I will, I didnt even get a chance to make it sound more dramatic and interesting. This could very well be my worst post ever. But I dont care, I need to vent and its better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.
And Ill be back in Vancouver soon, for a few days, till I have to comeback here again. Hope that goes well.
Update: Great... as I sit here in the terminal, Ive just been informed the flight is delayed at least one hour because of windshear at Ohare airport... and my shopping time has quickly evaporated to nothing. Yet another reason to hate on OHare. I better start listening to some dancy Goldfrapp on iTouch before I backhand a stranger for good reason, Naomi Campbell / Diana Ross style.
Again normally I wouldnt be so mad, but hinderances and snags have been been building up for the last couple days. I have already alluded to my currently location: Im back in Wisconsin for round two in this scheduled 3 round bout. I was suppose to leave Friday morning but was informed that I would have to stay longer and work another weekend, my 4th weekend in 6 weeks. Dont mean to stutter, but I didnt mind too much, really, if only it just ended there. Fortunately I had a coleague, Big Paddy with me on this trip for a week. He got to go home Friday though, which left me on my lonesome. For the weekend. Again, by itself, not that bad. It turned for the worse on Sunday night, when I was called into the mill for coverage at the stupid O'clock time of 2:30am. On the night before I was suppose to fly. Seriously. Normally Id only be there for an hour or so, do my thing, and be out of there quicker than quick, so I could go back to my bed. Things did not go well though, things broke down, which made other things break down, and before you know it, I was a zombie crossed with a bear, leaving at 6am, with a 11am flight, and I had not slept yet. This all contributed to me doing something for the first time ever, I missed my flight. I went back to the hotel, to catch maybe 2 hours sleeps.... but my alarm didnt go off loud enough, and I woke up as my flight was taking off. And now Im here in the Airport getting charged $100 for being overweight ( which I was not charged for on the way here, I might add), on top of the $150 change flight fee. And to really piss me out more than anything, because I missed the morning flight, I lose 5 hours of shopping time in Chicago. Yes I was going to go shopping for shoes; now I probably only have 1.5 hours tops, which is basically the time I would allow for purchasing socks. If you subtract shoe shopping time from Noli, Noli starts kicking people in the mouth.
Im whinging, and I really shouldnt post this because it makes me sound like a whinging bitch; bad form. Nobody likes a whinging bitch, apart from Lawyers who client them, of course, but nobody likes them either. Ill regret it, I will, I didnt even get a chance to make it sound more dramatic and interesting. This could very well be my worst post ever. But I dont care, I need to vent and its better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.
And Ill be back in Vancouver soon, for a few days, till I have to comeback here again. Hope that goes well.
Update: Great... as I sit here in the terminal, Ive just been informed the flight is delayed at least one hour because of windshear at Ohare airport... and my shopping time has quickly evaporated to nothing. Yet another reason to hate on OHare. I better start listening to some dancy Goldfrapp on iTouch before I backhand a stranger for good reason, Naomi Campbell / Diana Ross style.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Coffee
I think its been said that the definition of madness is repeating the same mistake over and over, expecting a different result. Or it can be the sign of being outright and blantantly retarded, which makes things even worser for me, in this way, because Im more often guilty of the same. I dont know if anyone relates to me on this or not, but I sometimes find myself repeating a mistake, only because I thought it would be different this next time, hoping and believing that some variable, some element, some ingredient, some condition, SOMETHING... has evolved on its own in the time and space between last time and now to make the situation different; and so I try again and then again. And again. Actually this pretty much defines my social inadequacies.
You see i bring this up, because Im sitting at a Starbucks at Barnes and Noble in Wausau Wisconsin (yep back here again), falling again for a cute Starbucks Barista. Her name is Kelly. We flirt briefly everytime I purchase my tall latte with irish cream, which I only frequent when she is working. Its going no where, I know this, but I try the same things, because of what I explained above. (BTW, as I sit here typing, I know I picked good, because her male co-worker Mr shadow bearded barista dude, is obviously crushing on her as well, its SO obvious) I blame Starbucks actually, its one of the few large scale outfit chains I can think of where there is a good shooting percentage of finding an employee to develop a short fancy on. Or more simplying, at Starbucks there is at least a chance of finding some decent looking birds. Not all the time, or not even a majority percentage, but at the very least above the societal average found when one is walking around the street or taking public transportation. I think everyone can agree, the percentages on the bus are downright pitiful if not upsetting. You can actually ask yourself this: when was the last time you went to Dennys, Walmart or Macdonalds, and found someone you thought was cute? Id have to go back all the way to high school, personally, and those memories probably dont count as much cuz theyre kinda fuzzy; my memory aint what it used to be. Not that there is anything wrong with being ugly, in most cases it just means your earning potential is stunted because youre forced to work at Dennys, Walmart or Macdonalds. So there is something special and different about Starbucks which equates closer to the Abercrombie and Fitch levels of appeal. Only difference is you cant sit at Abercrombie and Fitch, hours on end, with a laptop, being faux-productive. Now, I would probably need 3 hands in order to count the number of times Starbucks has produced up girls worthy of repeat flirting. Its probably one of the major reasons I come to this place in general, so their human resourcing practices must emphasize this on some minute level, because it obviously leads to increased repeat business, despite their mass produced fair trade coffee. And all I could say is, with the recent news that Starbucks is closing down 600 stores this year, it must be all the ones where only ugly people work at them.
Oh damn, Kelly just glanced over, Im about to pass out....
You see i bring this up, because Im sitting at a Starbucks at Barnes and Noble in Wausau Wisconsin (yep back here again), falling again for a cute Starbucks Barista. Her name is Kelly. We flirt briefly everytime I purchase my tall latte with irish cream, which I only frequent when she is working. Its going no where, I know this, but I try the same things, because of what I explained above. (BTW, as I sit here typing, I know I picked good, because her male co-worker Mr shadow bearded barista dude, is obviously crushing on her as well, its SO obvious) I blame Starbucks actually, its one of the few large scale outfit chains I can think of where there is a good shooting percentage of finding an employee to develop a short fancy on. Or more simplying, at Starbucks there is at least a chance of finding some decent looking birds. Not all the time, or not even a majority percentage, but at the very least above the societal average found when one is walking around the street or taking public transportation. I think everyone can agree, the percentages on the bus are downright pitiful if not upsetting. You can actually ask yourself this: when was the last time you went to Dennys, Walmart or Macdonalds, and found someone you thought was cute? Id have to go back all the way to high school, personally, and those memories probably dont count as much cuz theyre kinda fuzzy; my memory aint what it used to be. Not that there is anything wrong with being ugly, in most cases it just means your earning potential is stunted because youre forced to work at Dennys, Walmart or Macdonalds. So there is something special and different about Starbucks which equates closer to the Abercrombie and Fitch levels of appeal. Only difference is you cant sit at Abercrombie and Fitch, hours on end, with a laptop, being faux-productive. Now, I would probably need 3 hands in order to count the number of times Starbucks has produced up girls worthy of repeat flirting. Its probably one of the major reasons I come to this place in general, so their human resourcing practices must emphasize this on some minute level, because it obviously leads to increased repeat business, despite their mass produced fair trade coffee. And all I could say is, with the recent news that Starbucks is closing down 600 stores this year, it must be all the ones where only ugly people work at them.
Oh damn, Kelly just glanced over, Im about to pass out....
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Prolonged Giddy
This weekend I was suppose to be in Chicago. My time here in Tomahawk Wisconsin was suppose to end on Friday, with a weekend in the Breezy city before flying back to Irlande. Im still stuck here though, because of a last minute request to provide babysitting services. Flights had to be changed, hotels bookings modified, It was all a rather sudden. One more weekend in quiet and simple Tomahawk, population 3770.
Now you think Id be mad under these circumstances, or at least saddened and momentarily depressed. Thats how I normally would react, in a childish way, when a weekend in Chicago is replaced with a weekend in central Wisconsin. However, in a completely unexpected turn of events, I cant help but feel an unexplained buoyancy in my demeanor during this weekend. And really I dont know why, if we are to check the balance sheet, it shouldnt even be close:
Pros
- I get to drive my rental Dodge Charger a few more days.
- I get to listen to Sirius Satellite Radio.
Cons
- I have to drive one hour to hang out at a Walmart
- I need to work this weekend, at odd hours, to check on our installed system. Second weekend in a row by the way.
- I miss my chance to potentially go to Wrigley field and watch the Cubs interleague with the White Sox.
- I wont get a chance to shop the Magnificent Mile.
- I wont get the chance to eat yummy Chicago Deep Dish.
- Im completely all by my lonesome, in a lonesome town.
Nothing against Tomahawk, it is quite charming of a town. People here are unbelievably nice, (its almost spooky), its surrounded by gorgeous lakes and the wisconsin river runs through it, providing free water jumping shows at 8PM. And there is a Dairy Queen.
So why am I happy? I dont know. I wont question it though. Im even smiling as I type this. Usually when Im like this, a girl is involved or at the very least an exotic location. Neither are true is this case, but anyways Ill go with it. Ill now stop typing, walk around, and enjoy the day. 1000% better than being depressed and sorry for myself. I actually wish I could turn this on all the time, it makes for a great day.
This doesnt make any sense.
Now you think Id be mad under these circumstances, or at least saddened and momentarily depressed. Thats how I normally would react, in a childish way, when a weekend in Chicago is replaced with a weekend in central Wisconsin. However, in a completely unexpected turn of events, I cant help but feel an unexplained buoyancy in my demeanor during this weekend. And really I dont know why, if we are to check the balance sheet, it shouldnt even be close:
Pros
- I get to drive my rental Dodge Charger a few more days.
- I get to listen to Sirius Satellite Radio.
Cons
- I have to drive one hour to hang out at a Walmart
- I need to work this weekend, at odd hours, to check on our installed system. Second weekend in a row by the way.
- I miss my chance to potentially go to Wrigley field and watch the Cubs interleague with the White Sox.
- I wont get a chance to shop the Magnificent Mile.
- I wont get the chance to eat yummy Chicago Deep Dish.
- Im completely all by my lonesome, in a lonesome town.
Nothing against Tomahawk, it is quite charming of a town. People here are unbelievably nice, (its almost spooky), its surrounded by gorgeous lakes and the wisconsin river runs through it, providing free water jumping shows at 8PM. And there is a Dairy Queen.
So why am I happy? I dont know. I wont question it though. Im even smiling as I type this. Usually when Im like this, a girl is involved or at the very least an exotic location. Neither are true is this case, but anyways Ill go with it. Ill now stop typing, walk around, and enjoy the day. 1000% better than being depressed and sorry for myself. I actually wish I could turn this on all the time, it makes for a great day.
This doesnt make any sense.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
I like...
I love Ray Ray. Just watch this, its breathtakingly beautiful. I can watch it all day. Go directly to youtube and watch it in high-res. Watch it over and over again like how I do. With only a few seconds left, on the most crucial play of the game, first he waves off Garnett on the planned pick-n-roll, deciding to take on this chump on his ownself. Then Sasha does an textbook job executing the 'Ole!!' defence, Ray Ray blows by, finishes with a lefty layup, sealing the game for the Celtics, and leading Paul Pierce to celebrate like Marty winning Quiz night. I love this scene, just as much as the opening diving scenes in Into the Blue.
I like Kay Gee.
And I dont mind PP anymore.
I dislike Sasha.
I dislike Derek Fisher.
And I despise Japanese Kobe steak.
With such a blend of emotions, especially for a guy that is holding a angry grudge against the NBA (for first killing the Grizzlies, and then the Sonics), its remarkable to say that Im excited that Im in the States to watch the NBA Finals tonight.
Oh yeah Im in Wisconsin... I should try some cheese at the same time. And by the way, no Banana Republic or Abercrombie and Fitch in Wausau Wisconsin. I need to downgrade a bit and go to Hollister. I need underwear though, no brainer.
I like Kay Gee.
And I dont mind PP anymore.
I dislike Sasha.
I dislike Derek Fisher.
And I despise Japanese Kobe steak.
With such a blend of emotions, especially for a guy that is holding a angry grudge against the NBA (for first killing the Grizzlies, and then the Sonics), its remarkable to say that Im excited that Im in the States to watch the NBA Finals tonight.
Oh yeah Im in Wisconsin... I should try some cheese at the same time. And by the way, no Banana Republic or Abercrombie and Fitch in Wausau Wisconsin. I need to downgrade a bit and go to Hollister. I need underwear though, no brainer.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Ohare
Im in O'Hare airport right now on route to Wassau Wisconsin. Through a rapid and pannicked turn of events, Not too dissimilar to the standard operating procedures at my work, I was informed of travel then on a plane within 24 hours. Happy days, thats like Superman in the telephone booth type turnover. Not that it was a spot of bother in this instance, mind you, I did have the flexibility this week to go, and really my only concern was that I was running low on the underwear; 3 days worth tops. But hey, its gives me an excuse to buy; and Im going to the States so Banana Republic and Ambercrombie and Fitch, here I come (they have great quality boxers, Ive covered this before).
Because I havent been to the USA in over 2 years, its a bit wierd for me. Its weird in a way that a flight there introduces a awkward dissimilarity that normally used to be similar. Clear as mud? Let me explain. When I approach the gate of a flight to the USA, for example and I hear a dominating American accent everywhere, I get wierded out. You see, after even just a month back in Ireland, I quickly get used to the speech and mannerisms, and it quickly becomes all I know. Also hearing other European accents, English, Scottish,Italian, Spanish, French, German, Eastern European... they are normal too, its what I hear every day and naturally get accumstomed to. American and Canadian accents immediately pop out to me now in busy crowded streets, and I cant help it but its like a dog whistle. Now put me on a flight with loads of that kind of talking, and I get taken aback. It just takes a while to get used to again.
Its also wierd being in Ohare for the first time in ages. And to be honest I dont know if I like it. Terminal 1 and 2 anyways, are bunk. Small gates, not many shops, too much 'not good for you, but tastes SO good' food to tempt you. At least I cleared Immigration in Dublin before arriving, otherwise my opinion could maybe be more venomous. One thing that was good though... I discovered this new drink called Vitamin Water. I tell you what, its my new drink. Its the new Ice Tea. And thats a helluva thing to say.
So tomorrow Im in Wisconsin for a week, which should be uneventful. I will be back in Chicago though next weekend, I hope. Unleash me on some shopping.
Because I havent been to the USA in over 2 years, its a bit wierd for me. Its weird in a way that a flight there introduces a awkward dissimilarity that normally used to be similar. Clear as mud? Let me explain. When I approach the gate of a flight to the USA, for example and I hear a dominating American accent everywhere, I get wierded out. You see, after even just a month back in Ireland, I quickly get used to the speech and mannerisms, and it quickly becomes all I know. Also hearing other European accents, English, Scottish,Italian, Spanish, French, German, Eastern European... they are normal too, its what I hear every day and naturally get accumstomed to. American and Canadian accents immediately pop out to me now in busy crowded streets, and I cant help it but its like a dog whistle. Now put me on a flight with loads of that kind of talking, and I get taken aback. It just takes a while to get used to again.
Its also wierd being in Ohare for the first time in ages. And to be honest I dont know if I like it. Terminal 1 and 2 anyways, are bunk. Small gates, not many shops, too much 'not good for you, but tastes SO good' food to tempt you. At least I cleared Immigration in Dublin before arriving, otherwise my opinion could maybe be more venomous. One thing that was good though... I discovered this new drink called Vitamin Water. I tell you what, its my new drink. Its the new Ice Tea. And thats a helluva thing to say.
So tomorrow Im in Wisconsin for a week, which should be uneventful. I will be back in Chicago though next weekend, I hope. Unleash me on some shopping.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
random thoughts out loud
The return of the bullet point, the often used device for written out thoughts without care for transition or structure... Im watching Euro 2008 right now, so with my attention wandering in between, its kinda easier for me. That being said:
- Watching Sweden vs Greece right now. I cant help but think that the Greek dressing room smells like Tsatsiki (and I had a hard time trying to figure out how to spell that)
- Also Id lay down good money that the benches in the Sweden sidelines are from Ikea.
- Im backing Espana. Again. They always choke though. But not this year. In dedication to the loonie in center ice at the Salt Lake City Olympics, and the Ortiz jersey buried in the new Yankee stadium concrete, i "sneakily" snuck some serrano ham into my dinner Bratwurst. Tastes better. Now its their year, Germans be damned.
- It must be working too, the Spanish just beat the Russians 4-1.
- Apart from willowy, one of my new favorite words is "Saloperie". Only because swear words in other languages are funny.
- I admire music artists who make it in the industry even though they didnt really have a chance before it started, through no fault of their own, mind you, but solely for the burden of their name. You know kinda like, say... Ryan Adams. "Hey Ryan! Play Summer of 69!!" Like that joke will NEVER get old. If you think about it, Ryan had everything going against him, and only because he came out in 2000 instead of the 70s. Youd think the powers at be would force him to go the John Cougar route. Say for example you were an amazingly gifted singer-songwriter with a unique voice and a great sound. But your name is Dustin Timberlake. See, not a hope in hell...
- I am inherently opposed to jerks. Not because they are societal wankers (they are), but really because of the simple fact that things seem to come easy to jerks. Its as if the world revolves around jerks. I dont know why, it doesn't make sense at all, no matter what rules you care to use in the world, its like the opposite of karma; and this subject irritates me so much that it probably deserves to be discussed in a whole seperate blog post all together. But anyways.. back to the point... jerks... so there is this jerk at work. I call him wonder boy. And I got SO giddy recently at his expense. What happened? He walked into the mens bathroom just seconds after I dropped the foulest duece of like ever (you know how when you smell your own, and it doesnt smell as bad cuz its yours? Well this one, even I was knocked, it was that offensive. Thats what happens when I only eat vegetables for day). I am so immature, but whatever, it soooo made my day, because that duece did not go to waste. The only way the experience could of been any better was if he paid my rent.
- Watching Sweden vs Greece right now. I cant help but think that the Greek dressing room smells like Tsatsiki (and I had a hard time trying to figure out how to spell that)
- Also Id lay down good money that the benches in the Sweden sidelines are from Ikea.
- Im backing Espana. Again. They always choke though. But not this year. In dedication to the loonie in center ice at the Salt Lake City Olympics, and the Ortiz jersey buried in the new Yankee stadium concrete, i "sneakily" snuck some serrano ham into my dinner Bratwurst. Tastes better. Now its their year, Germans be damned.
- It must be working too, the Spanish just beat the Russians 4-1.
- Apart from willowy, one of my new favorite words is "Saloperie". Only because swear words in other languages are funny.
- I admire music artists who make it in the industry even though they didnt really have a chance before it started, through no fault of their own, mind you, but solely for the burden of their name. You know kinda like, say... Ryan Adams. "Hey Ryan! Play Summer of 69!!" Like that joke will NEVER get old. If you think about it, Ryan had everything going against him, and only because he came out in 2000 instead of the 70s. Youd think the powers at be would force him to go the John Cougar route. Say for example you were an amazingly gifted singer-songwriter with a unique voice and a great sound. But your name is Dustin Timberlake. See, not a hope in hell...
- I am inherently opposed to jerks. Not because they are societal wankers (they are), but really because of the simple fact that things seem to come easy to jerks. Its as if the world revolves around jerks. I dont know why, it doesn't make sense at all, no matter what rules you care to use in the world, its like the opposite of karma; and this subject irritates me so much that it probably deserves to be discussed in a whole seperate blog post all together. But anyways.. back to the point... jerks... so there is this jerk at work. I call him wonder boy. And I got SO giddy recently at his expense. What happened? He walked into the mens bathroom just seconds after I dropped the foulest duece of like ever (you know how when you smell your own, and it doesnt smell as bad cuz its yours? Well this one, even I was knocked, it was that offensive. Thats what happens when I only eat vegetables for day). I am so immature, but whatever, it soooo made my day, because that duece did not go to waste. The only way the experience could of been any better was if he paid my rent.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
White boy can write
Ill tell you another thing that can inspire me to get off my ass and write (which is not technically correct, writing on a keyboard inherently requires one to be on his ass, sitting down, even in most able bodied circumstances). Waking up at 1am after a 5 hour mis-timed nap. Of this, I am fairly frequent practitioner. Its the bane of my existence. Like right now for example, its currently 3am (coincidentally, i just recieved a few mocking texts from westcoast canada, probably thinking thatd id be sleeping and couldnt respond. Well Ill show them a trick or two) Devising my own lemonade though, it does create a worthy lull period, if one does not feel like doing absolutely nothing at all, staring at the ceiling. Make use of the tools and resources at hand, Im sure someone successful has said in some sort of way... and most likely more eloquently, I would gather.
And Ill tell you one other thing again, one more. Reading somebody's else column with overflowing appreciation. Yes this too often inspires me to write. Its like being introduced to one of your friend's girlfriend for the first time, and youre like wow how the hell did he score her? If my dumb ass buddy can get a lovely girl like that, then why cant I? Confidence doubles. When it comes to reading an article or a passage in a novel I enjoy, it does happen often enough, and each time I end up thinking "this is really good, yet simple and everyday common. I should be able to do this. Great ideas on structure, form, wit, and storytelling tact... I could maybe do something like this". You get influenced and its infectious. This is why people who read excessively can usually do a decent job writing: Its like subconscious studying or reviewing old game tapes. Of all the great writers out there, of all the entertaining writers, there is always one definite common denominator: they also read a lot.
Im not saying that I read that much however. On the scale of scales, the good old 1 to 10, Where 10 would be a Conan the Librarian (reading 16 hours a day, then sleeping the rest), and 0 would be a typical NBA Basketball player (reading magazines. For the pictures), I would consider myself a 7. Not that impressive. Its a C. Hence, my underwhelming composition skills. I can, however, recognize when a certain bundle of words congregated together becomes notably exceptional. So this particular skill helps, it creating a watermark, a guideline and standard for me to follow.
So the article Im talking about was written by Paul Shirley, who wrote an Article over on Deadspin.com. You can read it here.
Paul Shirley Column
And please understand, what he wrote about is exactly what I went through just yesterday. That article perfectly describes my life here in Europe regarding North American sports and I couldnt possibly put it any better.
And just to note, heres couple of neat things that I share with Paul that are quite interesting. We share the same birthday. He went to University and took Mechanical Engineering. He is a traveling nomad. With the slight exception of course that he is a 6'10" white dude with NBA level basketball skills. Yeah, Im so not that.
Okay lets see if this level of activity can now wash me back to some wonderful sleep.
And Ill tell you one other thing again, one more. Reading somebody's else column with overflowing appreciation. Yes this too often inspires me to write. Its like being introduced to one of your friend's girlfriend for the first time, and youre like wow how the hell did he score her? If my dumb ass buddy can get a lovely girl like that, then why cant I? Confidence doubles. When it comes to reading an article or a passage in a novel I enjoy, it does happen often enough, and each time I end up thinking "this is really good, yet simple and everyday common. I should be able to do this. Great ideas on structure, form, wit, and storytelling tact... I could maybe do something like this". You get influenced and its infectious. This is why people who read excessively can usually do a decent job writing: Its like subconscious studying or reviewing old game tapes. Of all the great writers out there, of all the entertaining writers, there is always one definite common denominator: they also read a lot.
Im not saying that I read that much however. On the scale of scales, the good old 1 to 10, Where 10 would be a Conan the Librarian (reading 16 hours a day, then sleeping the rest), and 0 would be a typical NBA Basketball player (reading magazines. For the pictures), I would consider myself a 7. Not that impressive. Its a C. Hence, my underwhelming composition skills. I can, however, recognize when a certain bundle of words congregated together becomes notably exceptional. So this particular skill helps, it creating a watermark, a guideline and standard for me to follow.
So the article Im talking about was written by Paul Shirley, who wrote an Article over on Deadspin.com. You can read it here.
Paul Shirley Column
And please understand, what he wrote about is exactly what I went through just yesterday. That article perfectly describes my life here in Europe regarding North American sports and I couldnt possibly put it any better.
And just to note, heres couple of neat things that I share with Paul that are quite interesting. We share the same birthday. He went to University and took Mechanical Engineering. He is a traveling nomad. With the slight exception of course that he is a 6'10" white dude with NBA level basketball skills. Yeah, Im so not that.
Okay lets see if this level of activity can now wash me back to some wonderful sleep.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Seinfeld; stuck in a moment
Last week I was lucky enough to tour the English southcoast, lucky because it was unexpected yet attained last minute through work related circumstances. And fortuitous in a completely different way all together, since it was actually sunny. Sun in England! On the very week you visit the beaches of the south... when does that happened? Almost never actually. Not when you plan for it anyways. Its the reason why the English, even though owning quite decent beach fronts that fan their southcoast, still flock to more surefooted locals like Mediterranean Europe for annual excursions. At least down there, the guarantee of enveloping heat and regular sun is like the guarantee of a billion people in China. Ireland is infected in this same way.
During the tour I made visits to Kent, Dover, Brighton and Bournemouth (pronounced Born-smith, I didnt get it right the first time, myself, to let you know, and maybe to save you from the same future embarrassment) And spent another weekend up in London, with a short trip over to Oxford for a bit of the old fashion combo of Rowing and Comedy. Its like, what else is there to do in Oxford except higher learning.
That weekend, I shared that Oxford trip with a few friends and experienced my first true Seinfeld moment. There were five of us, Huong, Val, Becs and Becs boyfriend Jianni who I just met. Jianni was a truly funny and witty guy with an impressively quick mind. You see it turns out, he is a comedian; and not as in the "Im just sayin" euphemism kind of way, but in the professional kinda of way. The comedy show that we would be attending that night was one he would be MCing; he is going to be on stage. So here's the thing; hanging out for the day, how is one suppose to act in a group like that when a real life comedian is involved? Like really, comeon, you cant even pretend to compete. And if you try to even be funny, it'll likely fall flat and inferior, and most importantly seem transparently forced. In that light, you start becoming George. So why even try? What are you to do? Laugh at everything and enjoy the ride, thats what. Id make small remarks here and there, but nothing too ambitious, I kept it simple. Jian was going to do all the work, and lets face it, he's really good at it. Thats why he gets paid money for it, even.
The show itself? I laughed myself silly. And it was wierd having pseudo VIP status, being friends of the comedian on stage. Didn't get free beer or anything, but I was able to bring in left over Nando's chicken despite the bouncer blocking me. "Sorry youre not allowed to bring food in" "Oh. But its not for me. Its for Jianni, the comedian tonight" "Alright, go ahead, mate.." Such a empowering feeling, Im going to have to keep that line in my back pocket for the future, even though it would be an outright fib next time. And during the show? He even cracked a few jokes that referenced banter from earlier in the day and only made sense to us. So wicked... in-jokes with the comedian on stage. Thats a level of enlightenment few ever achieve... hahaha.. (I jest cuz only now Im allowed to be funny)
Pics of the English southcoast.
Margate, Kent, UK
B/W The White Cliffs of Dover
White Cliffs of Dover
Some random tourist
Brighton
Brighton Pier
Brighton Donut?
Brighton Boardwalk
Stone beach
Brighton Beach Volleyball
Bournesmouth Baywatch
Bournesmouth Beach
During the tour I made visits to Kent, Dover, Brighton and Bournemouth (pronounced Born-smith, I didnt get it right the first time, myself, to let you know, and maybe to save you from the same future embarrassment) And spent another weekend up in London, with a short trip over to Oxford for a bit of the old fashion combo of Rowing and Comedy. Its like, what else is there to do in Oxford except higher learning.
That weekend, I shared that Oxford trip with a few friends and experienced my first true Seinfeld moment. There were five of us, Huong, Val, Becs and Becs boyfriend Jianni who I just met. Jianni was a truly funny and witty guy with an impressively quick mind. You see it turns out, he is a comedian; and not as in the "Im just sayin" euphemism kind of way, but in the professional kinda of way. The comedy show that we would be attending that night was one he would be MCing; he is going to be on stage. So here's the thing; hanging out for the day, how is one suppose to act in a group like that when a real life comedian is involved? Like really, comeon, you cant even pretend to compete. And if you try to even be funny, it'll likely fall flat and inferior, and most importantly seem transparently forced. In that light, you start becoming George. So why even try? What are you to do? Laugh at everything and enjoy the ride, thats what. Id make small remarks here and there, but nothing too ambitious, I kept it simple. Jian was going to do all the work, and lets face it, he's really good at it. Thats why he gets paid money for it, even.
The show itself? I laughed myself silly. And it was wierd having pseudo VIP status, being friends of the comedian on stage. Didn't get free beer or anything, but I was able to bring in left over Nando's chicken despite the bouncer blocking me. "Sorry youre not allowed to bring food in" "Oh. But its not for me. Its for Jianni, the comedian tonight" "Alright, go ahead, mate.." Such a empowering feeling, Im going to have to keep that line in my back pocket for the future, even though it would be an outright fib next time. And during the show? He even cracked a few jokes that referenced banter from earlier in the day and only made sense to us. So wicked... in-jokes with the comedian on stage. Thats a level of enlightenment few ever achieve... hahaha.. (I jest cuz only now Im allowed to be funny)
Pics of the English southcoast.
Margate, Kent, UK
B/W The White Cliffs of Dover
White Cliffs of Dover
Some random tourist
Brighton
Brighton Pier
Brighton Donut?
Brighton Boardwalk
Stone beach
Brighton Beach Volleyball
Bournesmouth Baywatch
Bournesmouth Beach
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Sunsets
I was never really a prolific writer. In elementary school, high school, university, I always wrote the least amount possible. 1000 word essay, Mr. Hikida? Okay.. youll be lucky if you get 1001. I dont think I ever enjoyed it, it was my least liked class in school, simply Ive always found it hard to write.
What was lacking I think was inspiration and motivation, which I admit i struggle with to this day. What Im slowing figuring out though is finding out when to write and recognizing those prime times, as they come; to channel. Like almost anything, you cant really FORCE anything in life and expect to create something of notability (unless you have beyonder type skill in some form of expression); its intangible but these things have to happen on their own and develop organically. Writing has to be organic, or its gonna suck. And the funny thing is these small triggers happen all the time to everyone everyday, and I think Im beginning to recognize them better, and therefore take advantage. A Large flux in emotional states, for example, just dawned on me as a substantially sensible time to write; the mind is open and exploring, and the eyes are taking in the surroundings unfiltered and unbiased. Ready to express yourself and outlet. Combine that with a state of drunkedness, and also listening intimately to emotionally charged acoustic music... you have a pot of gold.
Im saying this now because, as pansy as it sounds, Im in a restaurant in Margate, UK, watching the sunset past a landscape of this beach spanned seaside town. And its exceptionally gorgeous. After a fairly rough and emotionally trying couple of days, I could see this with unlocked eyes and write about it. And coincidentally, that is 300 words exactly.
What was lacking I think was inspiration and motivation, which I admit i struggle with to this day. What Im slowing figuring out though is finding out when to write and recognizing those prime times, as they come; to channel. Like almost anything, you cant really FORCE anything in life and expect to create something of notability (unless you have beyonder type skill in some form of expression); its intangible but these things have to happen on their own and develop organically. Writing has to be organic, or its gonna suck. And the funny thing is these small triggers happen all the time to everyone everyday, and I think Im beginning to recognize them better, and therefore take advantage. A Large flux in emotional states, for example, just dawned on me as a substantially sensible time to write; the mind is open and exploring, and the eyes are taking in the surroundings unfiltered and unbiased. Ready to express yourself and outlet. Combine that with a state of drunkedness, and also listening intimately to emotionally charged acoustic music... you have a pot of gold.
Im saying this now because, as pansy as it sounds, Im in a restaurant in Margate, UK, watching the sunset past a landscape of this beach spanned seaside town. And its exceptionally gorgeous. After a fairly rough and emotionally trying couple of days, I could see this with unlocked eyes and write about it. And coincidentally, that is 300 words exactly.
Friday, May 09, 2008
KLM
(Open this in a seperate window or tab as reading music. Click here)
So I had a cancelled flight, the flight back to Dublin via Amsterdam. KLM Airlines are usually pretty good and I ve had nothing but decent experiences, but I did have suspect feelings even before... the moment I found out this was going to be a Macdonald Douglas airplane. Nothing against Mac Doug, its just that long haul flights have always been the baby of either Airbus or Boeing... no one else allowed. Along with never ordering chinese food from a pub, Its a pretty good rule to stick by.
So heres what happened. I check in on time, head to international departures in YVR (still have to say, a beauty, YVR did a very good job here), and wandered about shopping while I waited for the flight to board. Bought some CK Euphoria Deoderant. Tried to find the Watchmen graphic novel in the Relay store, but the only books they sell with pictures in them are ones meant from elementary schools kids. Glanced back to the boarding gate Plasma monitor.. and it started flashing 'Retardez a 21:30' for KLM. The flight was suppose to depart at 18:50 but whatever, stupid Mac Doug planes. I peeked back though just a second later, and it flashed 'Demain'. oh oh. My french is anchor-at-the-bottom-of-the-sea rusty and scaly with barnacles, but I think Demain means Tomorrow. Quesce que Fuck? So I pushed my luggage stroller to the boarding gate to figure out whats going on.
Tension at the gate however was climbing quickly, as it does when a long haul flight has the prospects of being cancelled. The people worst hit are those unfortunate plebs starting their vacation with prebooked hotels and excursions, or connecting through to another European city like me or worser: the combo of both. Again, Stupid Mac Doug airplanes. The KLM ground crew though didnt have a clue to what was going on... deer - big eyes - headlights kinds, and pleaded with us to wait for an official annoucement.
About 10 minutes later the announcement came: Cancelled flight, delayed until Tomorrow 21:30. [calculators says thats a 27 hour delay, rounded up] Please pass through customs and pick up your baggage at baggage claim 22. Then proceed to the KLM desk to collection vouchers for hotels and taxis. Hmm no mention of rerouting.. interesting.
Being smart and opportunistic, I rushed into the first elevator back to Customs. I quickly refilled out the forms for 'entering canada', luckily I didnt have over 10,000 in cash or visited any farms in the last 55 minutes... and as i finished writing and pushing off to run away, some old east indian lady tugged on my arm gently and with a puppy dog / squishy face asked me to fill out her form because she forgot her reading glasses and couldnt see. 'but.. but.. but.. oohh. okay..' I had to fill out her form as well, and while doing so, i say half the plane sprinted by me. This Mohatmar Khamider, from 22 Catherine St, Kingsbury West Midlands UK cost me my lead, but at least I gained some Karma points... right?
Another kick in the proverbial nuts, my luggage was one of the last ones to come out of the carousel as well. By the time I got outside and back to the Departures area, the Line was a one kazillion metres long. Fawk...
Im so Prometheus Society though, and quickly realized waiting in the line would be completely useless unless i wanted to settle for a hotel voucher; I got on the mobile and called KLM booking directly (the sign behind the ticket desk had the number). Surprisingly I must of been on the 'idiot sheep' flight, because I was the only one I could see in line on the phone, trying to make alternate arrangements. There were only two more flights to Europe left that day.. two flights to london from Air Canada and British Airways. The Air Canada one was leaving in 30 minutes, so fat chance for that one, but the BA one was still over an hour away from Departure. And calling ending up being a brilliant plan... I got through right away, and was on hold for only about 10 minutes before they figured out I could be transferred to the BA flight. Once they confirmed it was doable, I jumped up and down like Jill after buying a big bag Kettle Chips, and ran to the BA counter, handed them my phone, and told them to talk directly to the KLM lady. Funny though... some 'idiot sheep' followed me, thinking they could get on too. Suffice to say, I was the last to get on. Bonus points, I got the prized exit seat right behind business class with the endless leg room. This is the best you could hope for in cattle class. I was so happy, I didnt even care I was now flying into the chaotic airport terminal from HELL, aka the brand new Heathrow Terminal 5. The very same Terminal that was like a Jurassic Park disaster zone about a month ago when it first opened, and absolutely nothing worked. The same Terminal where long haul flights were not routed through it until about a couple days ago. The same Terminal that has lost and still cant find over a hundred bags from one month ago. Yet, I was still happy. And the idiot sheep? They were like, how come I cant get on?
Nice one... I even arrived in Dublin 1 hour earlier than previously scheduled, which shocked the ABB Taxi Driver; I got to his meeting point before he did, for the first time ever. And guess what, for the first time in a while, I didnt lose my bags through Heathrow, either. Now Im home. Now what do I do...
PS... Editors Correction: I forgot to mention eating at Vijs on the list from the last post I did. How could I forget? Its almost insulting..
So I had a cancelled flight, the flight back to Dublin via Amsterdam. KLM Airlines are usually pretty good and I ve had nothing but decent experiences, but I did have suspect feelings even before... the moment I found out this was going to be a Macdonald Douglas airplane. Nothing against Mac Doug, its just that long haul flights have always been the baby of either Airbus or Boeing... no one else allowed. Along with never ordering chinese food from a pub, Its a pretty good rule to stick by.
So heres what happened. I check in on time, head to international departures in YVR (still have to say, a beauty, YVR did a very good job here), and wandered about shopping while I waited for the flight to board. Bought some CK Euphoria Deoderant. Tried to find the Watchmen graphic novel in the Relay store, but the only books they sell with pictures in them are ones meant from elementary schools kids. Glanced back to the boarding gate Plasma monitor.. and it started flashing 'Retardez a 21:30' for KLM. The flight was suppose to depart at 18:50 but whatever, stupid Mac Doug planes. I peeked back though just a second later, and it flashed 'Demain'. oh oh. My french is anchor-at-the-bottom-of-the-sea rusty and scaly with barnacles, but I think Demain means Tomorrow. Quesce que Fuck? So I pushed my luggage stroller to the boarding gate to figure out whats going on.
Tension at the gate however was climbing quickly, as it does when a long haul flight has the prospects of being cancelled. The people worst hit are those unfortunate plebs starting their vacation with prebooked hotels and excursions, or connecting through to another European city like me or worser: the combo of both. Again, Stupid Mac Doug airplanes. The KLM ground crew though didnt have a clue to what was going on... deer - big eyes - headlights kinds, and pleaded with us to wait for an official annoucement.
About 10 minutes later the announcement came: Cancelled flight, delayed until Tomorrow 21:30. [calculators says thats a 27 hour delay, rounded up] Please pass through customs and pick up your baggage at baggage claim 22. Then proceed to the KLM desk to collection vouchers for hotels and taxis. Hmm no mention of rerouting.. interesting.
Being smart and opportunistic, I rushed into the first elevator back to Customs. I quickly refilled out the forms for 'entering canada', luckily I didnt have over 10,000 in cash or visited any farms in the last 55 minutes... and as i finished writing and pushing off to run away, some old east indian lady tugged on my arm gently and with a puppy dog / squishy face asked me to fill out her form because she forgot her reading glasses and couldnt see. 'but.. but.. but.. oohh. okay..' I had to fill out her form as well, and while doing so, i say half the plane sprinted by me. This Mohatmar Khamider, from 22 Catherine St, Kingsbury West Midlands UK cost me my lead, but at least I gained some Karma points... right?
Another kick in the proverbial nuts, my luggage was one of the last ones to come out of the carousel as well. By the time I got outside and back to the Departures area, the Line was a one kazillion metres long. Fawk...
Im so Prometheus Society though, and quickly realized waiting in the line would be completely useless unless i wanted to settle for a hotel voucher; I got on the mobile and called KLM booking directly (the sign behind the ticket desk had the number). Surprisingly I must of been on the 'idiot sheep' flight, because I was the only one I could see in line on the phone, trying to make alternate arrangements. There were only two more flights to Europe left that day.. two flights to london from Air Canada and British Airways. The Air Canada one was leaving in 30 minutes, so fat chance for that one, but the BA one was still over an hour away from Departure. And calling ending up being a brilliant plan... I got through right away, and was on hold for only about 10 minutes before they figured out I could be transferred to the BA flight. Once they confirmed it was doable, I jumped up and down like Jill after buying a big bag Kettle Chips, and ran to the BA counter, handed them my phone, and told them to talk directly to the KLM lady. Funny though... some 'idiot sheep' followed me, thinking they could get on too. Suffice to say, I was the last to get on. Bonus points, I got the prized exit seat right behind business class with the endless leg room. This is the best you could hope for in cattle class. I was so happy, I didnt even care I was now flying into the chaotic airport terminal from HELL, aka the brand new Heathrow Terminal 5. The very same Terminal that was like a Jurassic Park disaster zone about a month ago when it first opened, and absolutely nothing worked. The same Terminal where long haul flights were not routed through it until about a couple days ago. The same Terminal that has lost and still cant find over a hundred bags from one month ago. Yet, I was still happy. And the idiot sheep? They were like, how come I cant get on?
Nice one... I even arrived in Dublin 1 hour earlier than previously scheduled, which shocked the ABB Taxi Driver; I got to his meeting point before he did, for the first time ever. And guess what, for the first time in a while, I didnt lose my bags through Heathrow, either. Now Im home. Now what do I do...
PS... Editors Correction: I forgot to mention eating at Vijs on the list from the last post I did. How could I forget? Its almost insulting..
Monday, May 05, 2008
One month later...
I got in trouble a couple times in the last few days. I was asked why am I not blogging by a few peeps. Well, first of all, I think its not the biggest surprise to anyone that knows me, Im pretty lazy. B, I have explained that blogging in Vancouver seems perverse to me; I feel awkward. And 3, Ive actually been pretty darn busy, so busy that I couldnt even read books during my scheduled 'catch up on book reading time' while I was in isolation in Prince Rupert for a weekend. I couldnt even make time to meet Petey. I couldnt even visit Rauls new house in Pitt Meadows (well after all it is way the feck over in Pitt Meadows) I couldnt even go to Lolitas with Kate. I didnt even get a chance to visit some relatives. And I couldnt even make it down to Seattle for a little tip toe through the tulips. And this was while I was on 3 day weeks work weeks, the whole time I was here. If there was one invention that would make more money than the perpetual motion motor (*), it would be a 'dynamic time relativity flux capacitor'; not a time machine per se, because a time machine requires alien technology, and we are not quite in league with such smarty pants aliens yet, but a machine that could slow down or speed up time; definitely more plausible. So every exciting monumental moment in life can be dragged out to SEEM to last forever.. and every horrible moment can last a nano-second. Remember as kids, when the two months of summer vacation seemed to last forever, but also realize during the exact same period, to people like our parents, it probably flew by. This is an opportunity to tweak, equalize and potentially throw a monkey wrench into the works of that balance. Good invention huh? I did think of it before the Adam Sandler movie, he was a total biter. But anyways, with this, this past month wouldn't have seemed like only a weekend in total length.
So yeah, the day, weekend, week, month has gone by really quick. Check out all the things I got to do though..
-Eat at the Naam for the first time in 5 years.
-Eat at The Cannery for the first time ever.
-Eat at Lift for the first time ever.
-Eat at Toshi's for the first time in 2 years.
-Eat at Hapa Izakaya for the first time in 3 years.
-Eat at Italian Kitchen for the first time ever.
-Eat at Galaxy Gardens and Stardust for the best Chicken Chow Mein in not only Prince Rupert, but the whole world.. for the first time in 4 years.
-Eat at Gotham for the first time in 4 years.
-Eat at Hons (House of Noodles) on Robson as much as possible for the Hermes fried Taro and my Cashew Chicken basket.
-Eat at Pagliaccis in Victoria for the first time in 5 years, only to realize that although still very good, not as mindblowing as I remember when I was still in Student-mode. I devised new maths... 9.5 in Student Mode.. need a correctional downgrade factor of 2... so 7.5 in Yuppie Mode.
-Eat at West (thats tonight, its gonna be soooo Keanu Reeves.)
Huh.. there seems to be a theme here. Now I fell guilty and I think I have a lot of working out to do to make up for it. Eating is good, Im not shy. But being fat, not soo good, and i get shy. I HAD to take advantage though, Dundalk only really has one or two really good restaurants... and I lack the eating out partners I have in abundance in this area code. So its completely within sound logic, by my reckoning ( I love the word 'reckoning').
So thanks again to everyone for the good times; happy days. It DID go by WAY too quick. But Ill see y'all in less than 3 months {Noli presses the 'speed up' button on the dynamic time relativity flux capacitor}
n.
Reference Index
(*) For all non-engineer readers, the perpetual motion motor is a motor engine that moves forever, a device that delivers / outputs more energy than what is put into it. An example would be an engine that did not require fuel, apart some intiating energy at the beginning; ie a starting push. However, such a device or system would be in violation of the law of conservation of energy, which states that energy can never be created or destroyed, and is therefore impossible. See, Im so Mensa-material.
So yeah, the day, weekend, week, month has gone by really quick. Check out all the things I got to do though..
-Eat at the Naam for the first time in 5 years.
-Eat at The Cannery for the first time ever.
-Eat at Lift for the first time ever.
-Eat at Toshi's for the first time in 2 years.
-Eat at Hapa Izakaya for the first time in 3 years.
-Eat at Italian Kitchen for the first time ever.
-Eat at Galaxy Gardens and Stardust for the best Chicken Chow Mein in not only Prince Rupert, but the whole world.. for the first time in 4 years.
-Eat at Gotham for the first time in 4 years.
-Eat at Hons (House of Noodles) on Robson as much as possible for the Hermes fried Taro and my Cashew Chicken basket.
-Eat at Pagliaccis in Victoria for the first time in 5 years, only to realize that although still very good, not as mindblowing as I remember when I was still in Student-mode. I devised new maths... 9.5 in Student Mode.. need a correctional downgrade factor of 2... so 7.5 in Yuppie Mode.
-Eat at West (thats tonight, its gonna be soooo Keanu Reeves.)
Huh.. there seems to be a theme here. Now I fell guilty and I think I have a lot of working out to do to make up for it. Eating is good, Im not shy. But being fat, not soo good, and i get shy. I HAD to take advantage though, Dundalk only really has one or two really good restaurants... and I lack the eating out partners I have in abundance in this area code. So its completely within sound logic, by my reckoning ( I love the word 'reckoning').
So thanks again to everyone for the good times; happy days. It DID go by WAY too quick. But Ill see y'all in less than 3 months {Noli presses the 'speed up' button on the dynamic time relativity flux capacitor}
n.
Reference Index
(*) For all non-engineer readers, the perpetual motion motor is a motor engine that moves forever, a device that delivers / outputs more energy than what is put into it. An example would be an engine that did not require fuel, apart some intiating energy at the beginning; ie a starting push. However, such a device or system would be in violation of the law of conservation of energy, which states that energy can never be created or destroyed, and is therefore impossible. See, Im so Mensa-material.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Live from Brentwood Mall, Burnaby
Now that Im back for a month, I find it very hard for me to blog from Vancouver. I feel like I need to be in Ireland to do this. The whole point of this thing is to do a pseudo Doogie Howser diary for myself and for my friends back home while Im away (I actually DO pause and look up in thought, before closing with my last line for all my entries btw, like everytime). What happens though when the equation changes and Im not away at present? Cuz really I can just as easily talk to friends now, ring them up or meet up for coffee or watch the Final Four at Lisas pad, who subsequently took over my old neighbourhood of Kits Point? It poses somewhat of a conflict, an incompatibility, a prolonged struggle of ideals, if you will. If I were to be making up rules along the way, I could very well be breaking them.
A few notes on the first week back:
- Nothing is funnier than my brother Manny being 30 minutes late for his own shared-bday party, or even getting beat there by JR who was coming all the way from Victoria. Oh wait there is something funnier; Jeff, whose real bday it actually was, not even making it to midnight, and passing out outside of Chivanas but still resourceful enough to create a little help from the padding and coverage of a few newspapers. :D
- Snowboarding - done. Sushi - done. Bubble Tea - done. Eggs Benny at the Zen - done. Canucks game - sadly done as well. Gotta think up more things to do. Pho. Pin Pin. The Cannery. Fresh Pandesal at Aling Marys.
- I just realized and discovered Jill and Lisa are very loud together. Its like a contest almost... one speaks, the other speaks louder, then the other one thinks 'oh shit no, theres no way she gonna talk louder than me' and takes it up a notch. Ditto on the other side. Next thing you know, you cant even hear planes that fly by, and then eventually my ear drums will collapse, develop into a serious nerve infection, that in turn degenerates into Bells Palsy nerve paralysis on both sides of my face, ultimately looking like I have ODed on Botox. Really who wants that? But Im just saying...
- Out of the blue, with the invite of Kate, Im going to Morcheeba. I love Vancouver... that being said...
- Its confirmed, I hate commercials. HATE them. Theres too much here, why do we put up with them. Im so Euro now.
- Tipping; arghhh. I need to tip 15% min. again? Im so Euro now.
- Run Fatboy Run just came out here. Welcome to 2007. Like I watched the DVD last Autumn. Im so Euro now.
- I got into the car to drive from the right side door 3 times this week. I feel like I needed to check out how the passenger seating is first. Im so Irish now.
- Been driving around quite a bit for the last week (since Im staying in Burnaby, which is WAY the feck far from anything, so driving is a forced mandatory). If its possible, the amount of bad drivers in Vancouver has gone up since I left this place, its head-wrecking. One small example; people drive on the right side of the road; like woh hold on for a minute here. Also people seem to feel signaling for a lane change is just an option now, or an antiquated courtesy no longer required for this day and age. Like we all mind read now. I also liked it, back in the day, when people use to pay attention to the road and the cars around them, that was nice back then. On a related note, the amount of Chinese in population has also gone up since I left this place.... hmm. (Dont kung fu me, you chinese people, Im just saying...)
A few notes on the first week back:
- Nothing is funnier than my brother Manny being 30 minutes late for his own shared-bday party, or even getting beat there by JR who was coming all the way from Victoria. Oh wait there is something funnier; Jeff, whose real bday it actually was, not even making it to midnight, and passing out outside of Chivanas but still resourceful enough to create a little help from the padding and coverage of a few newspapers. :D
- Snowboarding - done. Sushi - done. Bubble Tea - done. Eggs Benny at the Zen - done. Canucks game - sadly done as well. Gotta think up more things to do. Pho. Pin Pin. The Cannery. Fresh Pandesal at Aling Marys.
- I just realized and discovered Jill and Lisa are very loud together. Its like a contest almost... one speaks, the other speaks louder, then the other one thinks 'oh shit no, theres no way she gonna talk louder than me' and takes it up a notch. Ditto on the other side. Next thing you know, you cant even hear planes that fly by, and then eventually my ear drums will collapse, develop into a serious nerve infection, that in turn degenerates into Bells Palsy nerve paralysis on both sides of my face, ultimately looking like I have ODed on Botox. Really who wants that? But Im just saying...
- Out of the blue, with the invite of Kate, Im going to Morcheeba. I love Vancouver... that being said...
- Its confirmed, I hate commercials. HATE them. Theres too much here, why do we put up with them. Im so Euro now.
- Tipping; arghhh. I need to tip 15% min. again? Im so Euro now.
- Run Fatboy Run just came out here. Welcome to 2007. Like I watched the DVD last Autumn. Im so Euro now.
- I got into the car to drive from the right side door 3 times this week. I feel like I needed to check out how the passenger seating is first. Im so Irish now.
- Been driving around quite a bit for the last week (since Im staying in Burnaby, which is WAY the feck far from anything, so driving is a forced mandatory). If its possible, the amount of bad drivers in Vancouver has gone up since I left this place, its head-wrecking. One small example; people drive on the right side of the road; like woh hold on for a minute here. Also people seem to feel signaling for a lane change is just an option now, or an antiquated courtesy no longer required for this day and age. Like we all mind read now. I also liked it, back in the day, when people use to pay attention to the road and the cars around them, that was nice back then. On a related note, the amount of Chinese in population has also gone up since I left this place.... hmm. (Dont kung fu me, you chinese people, Im just saying...)
Friday, March 28, 2008
St. Pattys, a week and a bit later
Usually its terrible weather for St. Pattys day in Ireland. My first 3 years here were the same and mimicked old X Files episodes before they moved to LA: cold, wet, kinda dark with long coats and umbrellas ( the good ol' 10 year old dated pop reference.. check) This year though it turned out alright > a complete shocker. Jill, Huong, Sonja, Veloshini, and Becs came over from London and New York to celebrate Jills Birthday... which also happens to be St. Patricks Day. Her middle name is Patricia, and her favorite color is green; completely no creativity.
And although it was complete ludicrousy with rain on the first day, Saturday... my jeans were soaked knee high... the following 3 days behaved and were rain free. It was even sunny bits of Sunday and Monday and Tuesday. So here are notes from the things I learned on the past week (be prepared, in the spirit of Irish Marty, Im going to make fun of Jill lots because she was just here, and she is one of the 3 people that still read this thing):
- Contrary to popular belief, staying in an apartment with 5 other girls is really really cool, apart from the toilet rolls only lasting 5 seconds.
- Girls that initially look Portuguese / Spanish can actually turn out to be German. (Sonja, Huong, Jill stop laughing)
- Girls that sound like they are from California, can actually turn out to be from Gotenburg Sweden.
- Some girls think leprechauns are real. Seriously. No Seriously.
- Jill likes her beer Cold. ( This, her rationale for downing beer quicker than possibly even the Kobayashi Japanese guy who eats 100 hotdogs in 2 minutes)
- If youre in a bar talking to a girl from say South Africa, and youre asking her about her country and whats interesting to visit, and she turns around and says "Well, you should check out the tourist bureau", consider it the biggest burn in the history of female putdowns.
- When Jill travels around, she openly scouts out locations to hide in case she murders someone and needs a place to dissappear to. I wish I was joking.
- Some girls look cool eating with bibs.
- One girl works in a company that has open bars in the office. If that office were in Ireland, it would be bankrupt within a week.
- The awkward combination of being in a Irish bar in Dublin on St. Pattys eve, but with an American band playing live, playing american rock songs; errr? Sounds 100% wrong in theory.. but surprisingly festive in practice. It must be the fact that everyone is drunk anyways.
- The official limit to the amount of times that you can listen to Summer of 69 Bryan Adams before you decide thats enough and leave the bar: 3.
- Germans always know what times their flights are. Canadians Aussies and South Africans.. not so much.
- The Good Cop Bad Cop routine always works. Thats probably why they always use it in movies.
- Repeat calling in London with a Canadian Rogers Cellphone which costs like $4 a minute is NOT a good idea. Unless you are wasted, then you dont care, apparently.
- I love Strada. Even though they broke my charger. And gave me upset stomach.
- LEON is NOEL spelled backwards.
- Just because you live in New York, its doesnt mean a diet solely based on coffee, tea and cocktails is a good idea. It would be called the "Always Hangry" Diet.
- And finally, always ALWAYS ALWAYS check the DATES of the flight you are purchasing online instead of the DAYS. Haste makes waste. But not like that would ever happen to me..
And although it was complete ludicrousy with rain on the first day, Saturday... my jeans were soaked knee high... the following 3 days behaved and were rain free. It was even sunny bits of Sunday and Monday and Tuesday. So here are notes from the things I learned on the past week (be prepared, in the spirit of Irish Marty, Im going to make fun of Jill lots because she was just here, and she is one of the 3 people that still read this thing):
- Contrary to popular belief, staying in an apartment with 5 other girls is really really cool, apart from the toilet rolls only lasting 5 seconds.
- Girls that initially look Portuguese / Spanish can actually turn out to be German. (Sonja, Huong, Jill stop laughing)
- Girls that sound like they are from California, can actually turn out to be from Gotenburg Sweden.
- Some girls think leprechauns are real. Seriously. No Seriously.
- Jill likes her beer Cold. ( This, her rationale for downing beer quicker than possibly even the Kobayashi Japanese guy who eats 100 hotdogs in 2 minutes)
- If youre in a bar talking to a girl from say South Africa, and youre asking her about her country and whats interesting to visit, and she turns around and says "Well, you should check out the tourist bureau", consider it the biggest burn in the history of female putdowns.
- When Jill travels around, she openly scouts out locations to hide in case she murders someone and needs a place to dissappear to. I wish I was joking.
- Some girls look cool eating with bibs.
- One girl works in a company that has open bars in the office. If that office were in Ireland, it would be bankrupt within a week.
- The awkward combination of being in a Irish bar in Dublin on St. Pattys eve, but with an American band playing live, playing american rock songs; errr? Sounds 100% wrong in theory.. but surprisingly festive in practice. It must be the fact that everyone is drunk anyways.
- The official limit to the amount of times that you can listen to Summer of 69 Bryan Adams before you decide thats enough and leave the bar: 3.
- Germans always know what times their flights are. Canadians Aussies and South Africans.. not so much.
- The Good Cop Bad Cop routine always works. Thats probably why they always use it in movies.
- Repeat calling in London with a Canadian Rogers Cellphone which costs like $4 a minute is NOT a good idea. Unless you are wasted, then you dont care, apparently.
- I love Strada. Even though they broke my charger. And gave me upset stomach.
- LEON is NOEL spelled backwards.
- Just because you live in New York, its doesnt mean a diet solely based on coffee, tea and cocktails is a good idea. It would be called the "Always Hangry" Diet.
- And finally, always ALWAYS ALWAYS check the DATES of the flight you are purchasing online instead of the DAYS. Haste makes waste. But not like that would ever happen to me..
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Portsmouth 1 - Manchester United nil
(Im going to start something new: a song I like for you to listen to while reading my blog post. Today its Imogene Heap )
I want to put forth an idea for what Vancouver Canucks fans need to put them over the top in terms of game fanaticism: English Football-type chants. Ive been thinking this for a very long time now, further enforced by the Korea contingent chanting from the 2002 World Cup (like really, they probably show up more to chant than anything else, the games were just an excuse to), and after the match yesterday at Old Trafford to watch Manchester United against Portsmouth... its a no brainer now. Vancouver Canucks need chants. After hearing the 75K plus Manchester home "supporters" belting them out... its simply two words for a visiting spectator: fucking cool. Sure we started Towel Power and the whole fan participation 'O Canada' thing, which Edmonton seems to get more credit for because of their Cup run, but adding this to the arsenal would be something to be really proud of and distinct. And really it shouldn't be too hard. All that is needed is to copy the tune of a bog standard common song, like 'Walking in a Winterwonderland" for example... changing the lyrics a bit to reflect Canucks Fandom, keeping the lyrics simple so drunk people can yell along and not forget the words... incorporate a lot of clapping to rhythm and there you got a chant, done and done. Have 3 or 4 of those to chant out at random during home matches.. ehem.. I mean games.. then GM Place is the best home court advantage in terms of passion. Or an even nicer one, as a seperate item entirely, but equally 'chill inducing' adopting a home song, like "Youll Never Walk Alone" song from Liverpool. A song everyone can yell out before the start of a game, or during a conclusion to a win. A song every one knows. A song that goes to the root of being Canadian, and even being from Vancouver. And the song has to develop organically and grassroots naturally, so it doesnt sound forced or contrived... it wouldnt work out if that was the case. One candidate I can think of off the top of my head is Spirit of the West "Take me Home?", but thats just a starter idea. We should do this. Yes. We. Can.
Anyways had a pretty sweet time in Manchester, although I got caught in the biggest rainfall ever while running to the train station. It was terrible, and all I had on was a cotton Hoodie. I was soaked, felt like a kid again playing in the rain with my jean saturated from the thighs on down. And the fact that I had to get onto a flight in this state was... I dont even have the words. Also Manchester, great shopping city... but alas I am unbelievably skint (poor) so it was somewhat masochistic. There at the Apple Store, I saw the Macbook Air for the first time. Holy Crap thats some light laptop...
The match at Old Trafford was what totally made the trip.. my first Manchester United game. FA Cup Quarterfinal. And somehow they lost. Things is, they almost never lose at home, especially to a also-ran team such as Portsmouth. To be fair, they should of won 4-1. Very unlucky. Its a good thing I dont really support Manchester United anyways. Actually I somewhat quite enjoyed the loss, much like how I would delight in a Yankee loss if (when) I go to Yankee Stadium for the first time.
Pretty Boy and Shrek defending their goals
Cristiano Ronaldo kicking into a Portsmouth wall
Manchester Airport Skywalk
The "Manchester Eye" LOL
Downtown Manchester
I want to put forth an idea for what Vancouver Canucks fans need to put them over the top in terms of game fanaticism: English Football-type chants. Ive been thinking this for a very long time now, further enforced by the Korea contingent chanting from the 2002 World Cup (like really, they probably show up more to chant than anything else, the games were just an excuse to), and after the match yesterday at Old Trafford to watch Manchester United against Portsmouth... its a no brainer now. Vancouver Canucks need chants. After hearing the 75K plus Manchester home "supporters" belting them out... its simply two words for a visiting spectator: fucking cool. Sure we started Towel Power and the whole fan participation 'O Canada' thing, which Edmonton seems to get more credit for because of their Cup run, but adding this to the arsenal would be something to be really proud of and distinct. And really it shouldn't be too hard. All that is needed is to copy the tune of a bog standard common song, like 'Walking in a Winterwonderland" for example... changing the lyrics a bit to reflect Canucks Fandom, keeping the lyrics simple so drunk people can yell along and not forget the words... incorporate a lot of clapping to rhythm and there you got a chant, done and done. Have 3 or 4 of those to chant out at random during home matches.. ehem.. I mean games.. then GM Place is the best home court advantage in terms of passion. Or an even nicer one, as a seperate item entirely, but equally 'chill inducing' adopting a home song, like "Youll Never Walk Alone" song from Liverpool. A song everyone can yell out before the start of a game, or during a conclusion to a win. A song every one knows. A song that goes to the root of being Canadian, and even being from Vancouver. And the song has to develop organically and grassroots naturally, so it doesnt sound forced or contrived... it wouldnt work out if that was the case. One candidate I can think of off the top of my head is Spirit of the West "Take me Home?", but thats just a starter idea. We should do this. Yes. We. Can.
Anyways had a pretty sweet time in Manchester, although I got caught in the biggest rainfall ever while running to the train station. It was terrible, and all I had on was a cotton Hoodie. I was soaked, felt like a kid again playing in the rain with my jean saturated from the thighs on down. And the fact that I had to get onto a flight in this state was... I dont even have the words. Also Manchester, great shopping city... but alas I am unbelievably skint (poor) so it was somewhat masochistic. There at the Apple Store, I saw the Macbook Air for the first time. Holy Crap thats some light laptop...
The match at Old Trafford was what totally made the trip.. my first Manchester United game. FA Cup Quarterfinal. And somehow they lost. Things is, they almost never lose at home, especially to a also-ran team such as Portsmouth. To be fair, they should of won 4-1. Very unlucky. Its a good thing I dont really support Manchester United anyways. Actually I somewhat quite enjoyed the loss, much like how I would delight in a Yankee loss if (when) I go to Yankee Stadium for the first time.
Pretty Boy and Shrek defending their goals
Cristiano Ronaldo kicking into a Portsmouth wall
Manchester Airport Skywalk
The "Manchester Eye" LOL
Downtown Manchester
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