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.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
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...)
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