Everytime I feel like Alice.

To dance is to be human.

2009-06-15T17:33:00.007-07:00

This post was inspired by a comment I made on my friend Winnie's Facebook status the other day. It struck me how true and right this statement felt though I'm pretty sure that I must've heard it somewhere else before as these things tend to happen.

I remember the first time someone told me I can't dance. I was 3 or 4. The person; my mother. My ballet lessons ended.

Then there was the first time I remember dancing with friends at a 7th grade party. We were all pretty self conscious, but this 8th grade asshole standing nearby felt compelled to single me out amongst my peers and loudly said to a friend, "Jasmin can't dance."

Freedom.

Strangely, these instances that are burned in my memory did not stop me from doing what I love. I still rue the day my future as a prima ballerina was lost, and I still shrink from the embarrassment of that day in the 7th grade, but in a way when I dance, I dance for the me that lived in those moments. I dance for the artist I wanted to be and the girl who just wanted to have fun. I dance for them because everything turned out alright... in fact, everything turned out awesome.

In moments of pure disappointment or rejection, we can often see much more clearly into our hearts. What was really important to me wasn't my mother's praise or my friends' acceptance. When I was forced to accept these truths, I opened up to other aspects of dance and music that I might never have discovered.

I dance because that is the only way I can fully understand and embrace music. I am one of those people who can dance to anything - from some really hilarious pop'n'lock to interpretive, I'll do it if it'll put a smile on your face. Or mine. Sometimes I like to tell a story in my dance, and sometimes it's to get attention. Sometimes it's just to let it all hang out, and sometimes it's just to be close to someone.

Dancing to remember. Dancing to forget.

Dancing has taught me so much about myself and is a big part of my personal philosophy too. In dance as in life, we need to just flow. Our senses need to be heightened so we can feel the minutae of energy that moves around us in order for us to act and react; become one with the music and those around around us.

And I know that even people who don't dance in public must dance. In the privacy of their bedroom, when a song comes up that makes them want to jump and shout, gyrate and crunk, head bang and power slide. I know we ALL do it! And that's what I mean when to dance is to be human.

Time Poor

2009-03-18T19:11:00.002-07:00

Who has time anymore? As I glance through my inbox full of emails, I wonder who the National Ballet is advertising to? I wonder who will be able to make it to the sitar concert or the natural skincare workshop?

Money worries aside, I want to know who has time to be leisurely? I suspect many who do find themselves with time have too much time - are out of work. Those who have work have no time to themselves; no time to rest, to play, to love.

And I feel bad for complaining because I wonder what right have I to be tired when everyone else is also exhausted or in need?

I just wonder who has time to do all those things that I promised myself I'd always make time for. Dancing, music, art... I've tried to keep them in my life, but it's difficult after a 10 or 12 hour day. Even my weekends are filled with worry about what the next week may hold in store.

I hope this is simply an avelanche of change that's overwhelming us all - in different ways, but that there is an end in sight. We're all in this together. I guess that is what this recession has taught me to appreciate.

Montreal: The Mold Farm for Creativity

2009-03-07T06:38:00.008-08:00

Montreal is like a mold farm for creativity. Everybody and their mothers are an artist in their own way here. From the crochet lady on the subway - dressed in head-to-toe crochet attire (even her socks were crocheted!) while crocheting a hankerchief - to the sidewalk rappers, working on their rhymes at 10 in the morning... Only in Montreal does everyone get a chance to be an artist.

Life Art

I've always wanted to be an artist and I'm lucky to have been born with some basic creative gifts. However, making art - something tangible that could be critiqued and sold - was never something I was able to throw myself into. I found that my energy was always too diverted by a creative project that required my full attention: Life.

So being in a mold farm for creativity, I'm being filled with new ideas and new perspectives about life that will hopefully follow me home to Toronto. I'm so fortunate that the agency that I work for is based in this lovely city, and I plan to make time for more working holidays this year.

ACTIONS: Comment s'approprier la ville (What you can do with the city)

Yesterday, my friend Andrea (a masters student at Concordia) recommended the ACTIONS exhibition at the CCA (Canadian Centre for Architecture). It was a very inspiring collection of cases where individuals, groups and businesses have taken the initiative to take back responsibility for the urban spaces in which we dwell.

More and more, I feel the desire to be more socially active and this show demonstrated how other people have found creative ways to do so all over the world.

http://cca-actions.org/

I think there's a perception that being socially responsible or active requires getting involved with the right "groups". While I do think that group or community intiatives are the ones that will make the biggest impact, I think we can all start with our own lives. And as we become more responsible and active about our work, play and home environments, when these practices become a basic part of our daily lives, we will naturally discover the communities to which we belong.

Baby Steps for I... Giant Leap for Us

Change is the word of the day. However, many people think that it's the government that's going to bring us change, and it's not. Change is something we must take on as a responsibility to our future. People also forget that change is a learned behaviour. It's not easy, it requires a lot of time and commitment. We have to WANT to change before change even has a chance.

How many of us have really taken the time to really think about what change means to us? I think every individual in our priviledged society could use a little Action Planning.

Do we want help our environment? Recycling is not even close to enough. What other ways must we change? Make a list. Start with the basics. A great place to start would be reading about other people's projects. Carmen is a girl that works from our Montreal office and has a very useful blog about green living: http://www.urbangreengirl.com

Do we want the economy to improve? This requires contributions to the economy, but our budgets are tight. Are there alternative sources of income available?

Our dollars affect the market - creates demand which drives price which drives production/manufacturing out-put. If we want our Canadian producers to thrive, we have to divert more of our dollars into our country's goods and services. This means we have to actually pay attention to what we're buying and not just buy what's cheapest or most convenient.

I'm not saying this is easy. I myself haven't even begun to scratch the surface. But I know many people who have implemented these kinds of principles in their lives and live better for it. And I believe that if enough people take on personal responsibility for the world which we live in... change will come.

Do you know of any other good resources to find inspiration for Change?

C'est la vie en rose.

2009-02-14T12:48:00.013-08:00

After 5 years living on the west end of Toronto, I moved to the Beach in September. It was difficult at first - being so far away from the bustle. Most people I know live in either Parkdale, King West, Annex... anything east of Broadview is considered the 'burbs.

The Beach is a very family-oriented neighbourhood. Children and dogs is how I describe the vibe out here. So since I have neither, I guess I moved out here because I wanted some fresh air and better access to the lake that we have a tendancy to forget is right there.

I wanted a bit of space away from prying eyes. I didn't want to bump into people who ask me how I'm doing like I have a terminal disease. I needed the space to rediscover my voice, my hands, my feet, my eyes, my nose, my lungs, my heart.

I have history in the Beach too, though I've never lived here before. I remember my mom bringing me down here when I was little in the summer to walk along the water and eat ice cream. I remember dating a boy who lived not far from where I am now, and the smell of spring dew and the lake from his window. I remember my "adventure" down here with Cheryl when we were still in high school, and having brunch at Cora's although I haven't found it yet so maybe it's gone now. Or maybe it wasn't Cora's at all.

Originally, I had wanted to move to High Park and it was a very last minute decision to move to the Beach instead. It was meant to be and I couldn't be happier. More than anything, I need to slow down again. Life changed at such a manic pace over only a few months, that I actually need to force myself to relax and take it easy. Enjoy the pace of the Beach and the lovely people who are in my life now.

From my little home in the Beach to my open concept office, I feel like everything has fallen into place. I feng-shuied my life. Energy flows from one corner to another and back to centre. There is a lot of love in my life; a new kind of love that is fully conscious, stripped of fear or regret, and with the understanding that love is not something that can be given or taken away like money. When it grows, it grows. When it's earned, it's indestructable.

I'm looking forward to spring when all this cold melts away to new warmth. I can't wait to watch the world burst forth out of over-long stillness. I want it to sweep me up with the richness of it all. It's going to be beautiful!

Sun lin fai la!

2009-01-25T17:24:00.005-08:00

Happy Chinese New Year!

I had a post all planned out today but I left it in the backseat of my mother's car. It was printed on the menu of the restaurant where we had our New Year dinner - the Joy Fortune Restaurnt.

Ironically, it was a list. A list I wanted to post in a blog. Har har har.

There were about 20 rules basically about when to say things. A few that I still recall are:

When you have something:

Good to say, say it at the right occasion.
Sad to share, be considerate and don't share it with every person you meet.
Important to say, say it slowly.
Insignifcant to say, say it humorously.
You have to do, do it before you talk about it.
Hurtful to say, don't say it.
To say about someone else, be careful what you say.
To discuss about yourself, listen to your heart.

CNY (Chinese New Year, Sun Lin) is about horoscopes, dragon dancing, 10 course meals, money and personal reflection. Proverbs old and new being thrown across the Lazy Susans filled with steaming dims sum... I wondered if the way we ate dinner was directly influenced by communism: everyone eats from the same plate, you eat what you can, and not a morsel of food is allowed to be wasted by the male members of the family.

For most of my life growing up, I discounted my family because they couldn't understand me. Now that I'm a little older, I feel like there's so much that I haven't tried to understand about them. It's so easy to take for granted your own culture when being Chinese is just part of being alive. But it struck me as a shame that I didn't know more about my home country's history.

We don't really do "resolutions", but every year we wish each other good health, good work and good fortune. As I look forward in the following Chinese calendar year, I will dedicate to learning more about my cultural background.

ASL?

2009-01-15T19:15:00.002-08:00

Remember when online dating was suspicious and pervy? That's when I started. I was one of those teenagers who would look for internet boyfriends in ChatHouse, mIRC, Yahoo! Chat. My first internet boyfriend was a 16 year old Quake II tournament champion from Kansas City. When I got a bit older, I started meeting up with UofT students who lived in bachelor apartments in the Annex.

Few other girls I knew dated online back then. And certainly not as frequently or as intently as I. Once I moved to the city however, I stopped. It seemed childish to date online - how much more exciting to meet people in real life. I promised myself never to do it again.

And yet, online dating is more the norm now than not. This isn't the same as the online relationship I had with the boy in Kansas City, but more like the UofT students I met on Yahoo! Chat. Except now you can fill out personality tests and rate people and write profiles, etc. etc. You could spend hours a day checking up on all your various online dating accounts, connecting with new guys, chatting, setting up dates.

It's not for computer geeks anymore. I was at Fresh yesterday reading 1984 - or pretending to read because I was actually eavesdropping on the conversation next to me...

They were two girls in their late-twenties to early-thirties: health-conscious (Fresh regulars), professionals, regular bar/club goers, gym members (joggers), Facebook users. It's amazing how much I could glean about them based on this single conversation.

The entire evening was spent talking about online dating: PlentyOfFish, LavaLife, eHarmony... One girl's experience was that the more you date, the more refined your searching gets, and the better the guys you find.

Both girls have been in and out of relationships for a couple of years now, dating people for a couple of months here and there. They love having options. They don't want to settle down.

And there are others like them! Plans to get all the girls together every month to share dating stories. Supportive. Non-competitive. I'm curious about whether or not this monthly meeting will actually occur.

Beneath the banter, the forced optimism was palpable. These girls are braving it alone, not wanting to settle for anything less than they deserve. They're "putting it out there". But I think we all knew that try as we might... it's not really up to us who we love. Sure we can tip the scales, hedge our bets, be as cautious or as adventurous as we feel we need to be... but in the end, love happens when it's meant to happen.

Anyway, I just thought it was funny that online dating isn't childish or geeky anymore. Savvy, good-looking, smart people are doing it. But I can't help but wonder if opening up your dating arena to millions of potential partners might make things more complicated than they already are?

Remembering Me in Context

2009-01-01T06:56:00.007-08:00

2008 was an eventful year to say the least. This isn’t something I say every year, like “there’s way more snow this year than last year”, I can honestly say that 2008 was a veritable avalanche of change.

Relationships

Last year, I was drowning in guilt for what I’d done. I felt like I had ruined everyone’s lives. What I did was wrong, and there are better ways of fixing your life than cheating and lying. But sometimes when you’re too scared to change your life, and something so sad is growing and consuming you, but you can’t put a name on it... you fuck shit up. Like a game of musical chairs, we all switched places, and yes it is still uncomfortable as new chairs tend to be, but I think we all ended up in places that make us happier as individuals. Sometimes I still feel sad for the past that had been so beautiful and good on many levels... but as each day passes, I wake up feeling more whole. More me.

Career

At Christmas dinner, I asked my cousin Kevin if he was still working at the same place, and he said, “Unlike you, I don’t change jobs every year.” It’s only been 2.5 years since I finished school and I’ve switched 3 jobs, and for my family who only see me once a year at Christmas, my job hopping probably seems excessive and unnecessary.

But my career is important to me, not only because of the money it brings, but this is how I spend 90% of my time. I don’t want to waste time staying at a company where I’m unhappy because I need the money; that isn’t worth it to me.

For me, satisfaction comes from having contributed something positive to the team as a whole on exciting work. Whether if it’s to spend extra time to do research to write a better strategy, or to stay til midnight to take a presentation to the printers, or to cheer up the office with some crazy story about pole dancing and dating, it’s worthwhile because everyone in the agency benefits.

For the first time in my short career, I can see myself growing indefinitely with my tiny team of 8 – soon to be 12. Soon to be... who knows? The foundation of Twist Image was laid in the main office in Montreal, and while the agency is still kind of young compared to some of the others, what has completely won me over is that the executive management actually understand the where the digital world is heading and leads the industry by action, not jazz-hands.

Family

My mother is getting married. It’s been almost 16 years since my parent’s divorce, and my mother hasn’t remarried since. Last summer, she met her ballroom dancing partner and now they’re planning on getting married in Q3 or Q4 of 2009.

It was completely unexpected, and yet when she called to tell me one beautiful, sunny, gorgeous day while I was bike riding in Stanley Park, Vancouver, I was genuinely happy and excited for her.

It’s been just her and I for a long time. And I think I’ve done everything a daughter can to separate myself from that relationship, seeking independence from an early age. Over the years, we worked out our differences, creating an understanding that I’m never going to turn out the way she imagined, that I can’t be an emotional substitute for my father, that I need to let go of all the bitterness of our past and trust her with the truth, etc.

They’re letting me handle the planning of it, but it’s not going to be elaborate or expensive. Just something fun and intimate... just like my mom. I look forward to standing beside her as she takes her vows, and wishing her all the happiness that she has made possible for me in my life.

Friendships

All my friendships moved to new levels this year. Those without solid foundations have tapered off. The others, blossomed with new warmth and genuine affection. From reuniting with old friends from elementary / high school to giving more of myself to the friends who need an open heart, a listening ear, and the perspective that only a caring friend can provide, I was there. Conversely – and even unusually – I accepted those things from my friends as well, finding them to be even stronger and lovelier people than I ever imagined.

And as those relationships continue to change where we can no longer be in each other’s pockets day in and out, at lunches and coffee breaks, I’m comforted by knowing that the depth of the foundation that has been laid is strong enough to withstand time and distance.

In many ways, my friends – who remind me about who I am and how far I’ve come – are the siblings I’ve never had. We are lucky when we find each other.

2009

2009 will be all about me. Now that I’ve proved to myself that I’m capable of making tough decisions and following through on them, that I’m able to stand on my own, that I have the love of friends and family to back me up... I’m ready. I don’t know at this point, on January 1^st, 2009, what the focus of the next phase of my life will be, but I will make the most of the momentum from 2008 to propel me forward.

Even though the new year emerged from a depth of pain I’d never experienced before, I also achieved immense triumphs. And although nothing will ever be the same... at least we’re all still here. And isn’t that the important thing?

Unconditional Love - Thought #1

2008-12-03T10:08:00.007-08:00

Unconditional. Love.

These two words promise a lot and is usually associated to religion and mothers. They were words that were spoken to me by a spiritual seer of sorts (a psychic if you must) - she told me that my purpose in life is to teach the world about unconditional love.

Tall order.

And considering the current state of affairs, my response is: "Really?! Me? Really??? Really."

Huh.

The love that I have known has never been unconditional - neither from my mother or that which I've given to others thus far in my life. Even though Jesus seemed to love everyone unconditionally, he sure handed down a heavy bag of rules. If anything, Buddha had it pretty right on... loving life and not the egos of people.

It seems like there are always conditions in regards to love: "If this and then that". Love tends to be coupled with bias, ulterior motives, desire, fear... even naiveté and self-negation. Have I ever loved someone without thinking "Well, of course I love him because... [fill in the blank]"? Doesn't unconditional mean that there isn't a "because"?

In my world: value, references, research, facts, justifications, judgements drive nearly all our decisions and actions in life, love, career path, shopping habits, etc. So is unconditional love even something worthy of pursuit? Doesn't it just sound like a recipe for disaster? Or is it just some smart psychic's way getting me to leave a $20 tip on the table?

Or maybe unconditional love isn't to be blind or unthinking - maybe it means to be aware of all the factors, all parties, all possible outcomes (both wonderful and horrible), and make the conscious decision to love someone for the sake of their own self and the light they bring into your life.

PROMISE is the word of a new day.

2008-11-05T08:33:00.002-08:00

Created with Obama's victory speech using wordle.net. The word is PROMISE.

Even though he's not our president, he's setting an incredible example of how we need our country's leaders to be. True, he hasn't started his new job yet, but he's shown us that a political leader should inspire and unite us as citizens. And the promise is not just his to give to the people - it's ours to give to our own lives, community and country.

I'm really proud of Americans today.

Stuff I Like to Do and Should Do More Often in General

2008-10-19T14:05:00.004-07:00

It's been almost two months since I moved to my place in the Beaches. I'm learning about independence, and what I've discovered so far is that it's not just about being able to feed yourself and keep your shit neat and clean. Contrary to my mother's belief (whose impression of me will forever be retarded at 16 years old), I'm pretty good at the day-to-day staying alive business.

The real challenge, I've found, is trying to not become listless or depressed. Actually I think listlessness is a symptom of depression, so I always try to make plans every weekend that involve other people to ensure I don't lie in bed for 48 hours wondering what the hell I'm doing with my life.

But I'd like to not rely on special events. Especially with winter being right around the corner, there will be weeks when I won't have big weekend plans to look forward to. I've come up with a few solid activities that I am trying to integrate into my life to keep cabin fever at bay:

Writing
I've started writing the outline of a story about two young friends who believe that invisibility can be achieved with the mental negation of your Self. I've been able to go pretty deep into the narrative, but I'm having real trouble writing dialogue that sounds believable. Blargh.

Drawing
I have the Clown issue of VICE and I want to draw the clown portraits in pastel. It'll look awesome, but I need to go to Curry's and pick up some brighter coloured pastels for the clown hair.

Music
Ukulele. The one I bought at Steve's is fucked, so I have to bring it in to see if they can fix the top string. If not, I'll need to buy another one. I actually enjoy the uke more than the piano. It's got such a great sound and I've been able to pick it up pretty quickly. I'd also like to pick up a melodica if I ever come across a nice one.

Pole Dancing
Laugh if you like, but my body has never looked hotter. I've been taking classes since June at Aradia Fitness and have mastered all kinds of fancy spins and recently nailed the infamous inversion. Some people have asked if I'm taking classes because I want to go pro, but it's one thing to enjoy pole dancing at an all-girls studio vs. performing naked in a strip club. I just love the joyous abandon of spinning on a brass pole. I would encourage any girl of any body type or age to try it. Let me know if you want to take a free teaser class, I can set it up for ya!

Relationships
I'm not good at letting people close to me. I like getting close to people (as Laura once said, I'm a very "penetrative" person), but when it comes to letting people see my icky, sappy innards... I generally feel disinclined to do so. This started when I was quite young; I never wanted to tell my mom if anything was wrong because I didn't want to stress her out or be yelled at. Or worse, have her try to fix my problems for me. So I keep shit tight to my chest and try to fix everything all on my own. This doesn't usually work out. And it alienates people who I've helped but who never get to help me in return.

Walking the Line

2008-09-15T19:53:00.008-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about what it means to live a monastic life. Having my own space and more time to my own thoughts than what I know to do with, I've been even more contemplative than usual.

A Buddhist monk lives by two rules:

Chastity
Poverty

Unlike most other religions, Obedience is not a vow that Buddhist monks are required to take. Nor are they to commit to a single leader. It's expected for monks to be able to rule and govern their own spiritual path as well as physicial well-being. Spiritual and individual independence comes first.

"Vinaya is for the sake of discipline, discipline for the sake of freedom from remorse, freedom from remorse for the sake of relaxation, relaxation for the sake of rapture, rapture for the sake of calm, calm for the sake of bliss, bliss for the sake of samadhi, samadhi for the sake of insight and knowing things as they are, insight and knowing of things as they are for the sake of disenchantment, disenchantment for the sake of dispassion, dispassion for the sake of liberation, liberation for the sake of insight and knowledge of liberation, insight and knowledge of liberation for the sake of total unbinding without clinging." (Pv.XII.2)

During Buddha's lifetime, he and his disciples came up with 250 rules for the Vinaya, all created by circumstance and all with exceptions to the rule. Since Obedience wasn't a vow, no one was punished, but to break the Vinaya was a personal burden that a monk would have to carry on his own. For someone whose life is devoted to meditation and enlightenment, to do something "wrong" would require a personal penance to oneself - whatever that may be.

There have been way too many occasions in my past where I acted too impulsively and excessively. Had I just taken a step back at those critical points and reflected, I feel certain that my inner wisdom could have prevailed. But I was afraid of losing my nerve I guess - or afraid of losing the moment, so I rushed forward. Some lessons are only learned when the cold, wet pavement hits your face and your teeth fall out.

As I contemplate the next phase of my life, I will look inward for the path I need to take. And I think a few monastic vows to myself wouldn't hurt either.

My Blogger History

2008-09-11T19:32:00.005-07:00

It's amazing how long it's been since I sat down and wrote here. For awhile, I shied away because this is connected to Facebook and with over 300 friends, I started feeling a bit shy about blogging again.

The thing with this blog is it's where I let myself explore the darkest recesses of my Self. And while I'm sure not that many people actually read it, I think there are more silent readers now than before.

In the original days of Everytime I Feel Like Alice, there were only a handful of readers: The NotSelf, Datura's Garden, Sweaty Blistered Sneaker Toe, Fudge and Pazzol Rama. If you knew them, you would know that this is a very unique group of people and it's been a priviledge blogging with them.

So knowing that the audience is a bit wider now, I'm still feeling shy about talking about my personal life at the moment. However, I'm enjoying this walk down memory blog lane, and will continue down this path until there is nothing more to add.

What's in a name?

The name Everytime I Feel Like Alice is a line out of a story I wrote in 2004 based on a most memorable mushroom trip. There's an obvious connection between Alice and mushroom trip, but the phrase is more significant than that at least to me personally.

I've been known to be impulsive - it's both a weakness and a strength of mine. A weakness in that sometimes I do things without considering the full consequences and a strength because it allows me to go places I probably wouldn't go if I actually thought about it. The result is that I often put myself in situations that are thrilling and uncomfortable.

These bouts of impulsiveness can be described as Times I Feel Like Alice. It's a rush like falling down a tunnel and you don't know when it might stop and you don't know if you're going to land on your head or your ass. Or your feet and your knees break.

Remember ICQ?

DelinquencySignal is a handle I used to use in high school. I used it on ICQ for a little while - I changed my nickname often back then. But I really love the sound of it and have been lucky to get it for my blog name as well as my YouTube channel name.

I think this name really sheds light on the shit-disturber side of me, which I'm sure for some of you may be difficult to imagine. But ask my mother. She will tell you. That's all I need to say about that.

Properties

Blogger isn't my first blog. From 1998-2003, I ran my own Geocities website called Krazyjasmine's Krazy Website that used to attract 200 new visitors per month. I was amused with spelling my own name "wrong" (there's no E!). This was essentially a blog where I wrote about my day, my friends, my woes, my joys... But it also had many incarnations including a fan site for my Quake II clan, Clan [519] and my high school crew: Bitch Ass Crew, which included a members section.

Blog Philosophy

Blogging is not for everyone. I'm not even sure if it's for me. But I think essentially what always brings me back to it is my love of this vast interweb where my words, my thoughts, my dreams becomes one with the great www.

There's nothing spiritual about it, though. Don't get me wrong, I do not worship the internet. It's the sheer fact of it, of all of this information being stored in machines and shared across the world through wires and microwaves... the reality of it inspires me to blog. To participate in my own insignificant way. Here... no contribution is too small because the reward is personal. You get what you put in. And there's beauty in that.

suicide word clouds

2008-06-24T13:47:00.005-07:00

i found this awesome site: wordle.net that lets you drop in a body of text and it converts into a word cloud. to test it out, i created word clouds out of the Kurt Cobain and Virginia Woolf's suicide letters. i'm a bit in awe of their simple eloquence.

min_o gets nostalgic (finally)

2008-06-09T13:59:00.005-07:00

Further to my last post on nostalgia, I found something today that I feel infinitely nostalgic about.

“Candy Candy” is a manga turned anime series turned movie that I used to watch in Hong Kong (Catnonese sub of course). I was 3 – 5 years old at the time, but I have some memory of watching it at my grandparents apartments – either one.

I’m relieved to have reclaimed a bit of my childhood. Most people remember episodes and songs from their childhood cartoons, but until now, I have very few of these memories. This is largely because at age 3, my family immigrated to Canada so there are a few formative years of my life when I couldn’t understand anything that was on television.

After reading the entire synopsis on Wikipedia, I discovered that I do have something to hold on to from that time in my life, even though few people will be able to share it with me. It’s amazing to me that this storyline which is far more sophisticated than any children’s program on air today is completely familiar.

My mom said that the show always made me cry, and it’s amusing that she encouraged what was probably the source of all the melodrama in my psyche.

Emotional Trauma

Death – Candy loses both her parents and her childhood playmate and boyfriend

Lost friendships – Candy’s best friend gets adopted and is forbidden to communicate with her again

Jealousy – Candy’s spirit and charm attracts all the handsome male characters, making her a target for the women around her

Cruelty – Candy’s adoptive family (the women) hate her and eventually force her to work as a maid to her adoptive sister

Blackmail – Candy’s engagement is broken because her fiancé gets blackmailed by another girl who loses her leg

Sexual Harassment (kind of) – Candy’s adoptive brother lies to her and her adoptive family forces her into getting engaged with him

Character Development

Candy was a good role model too especially since she was an orphan and I was an only child. She was consistently loyal, optimistic and loving which in the end (despite much suffering) earned her right to a happy ending.

True Romance

One part of the story that has haunted me forever was the scene when Candy’s crying over the loss of her best friend, Annie, and is crying on the hill. This is where she meets The Prince, the man to which her long, painful journey will eventually lead her. Here's the scene from the manga:

BBQ for friends who don't have rich cottage friends

2008-06-08T16:38:00.010-07:00

Our friend Brian Howe asked me to throw a BBQ on Friday night - just a small gathering of our close friends. So I sent out a sentinel of e-mails, fb messages and txt messages to gather the troops. Three hours later, he tells me he has been invited to a "mansion cottage" with his girlfriend for the weekend. Sorry.

Undeterred, I decided to throw the bbq for those of us who cannot escape to mansion cottages during these hot summer weekends.

Hosting is new to me since I've never really lived in a place that could accommodate what you'd call a "dinner party". It's almost an existential struggle when we do these things ever since we discovered Stuff White People Like... even though I'm not white which makes it doubly weird for me.

Girlfriends

They gathered around the breakfast bar while we gossiped as Leann cut up her beautiful melons (ugh bad and old joke that just won't die already) and I made a salad completely by hand. I.E. I tore every leaf into neat bite size pieces; cut and washed every plum tomato and strawberry individually. I realize that my method could not have been any slower, but I found the process rather therapeutic. I am beginning to understand why people enjoy cooking for others. Something to do with feeding the people you care about with more than just sustenance but also with your energy and love.

Boyfriends

When I wasn't being all domestimacated, I accompanied our friend Wes on the piano while he gave us a lovely rendition of Let it Be and Hallelujah. Two of the four songs I know how to play based on chords rather than straight sheet music (the others are Such Great Heights and Hey Jude).

Damage Done

2 lb rack of ribs
4 lb of hamburger meat
8 ounce steak
1 sausage
16 Burger-First PC hamburger buns
1 head of ice burg lettuce
1 box of plum tomatoes
1 box of strawberries
2 melons (cantaloupe and honeydew)
2 bottles of wine (white and red)
3 bottles of beer
3 strongbows

Always there is Nostalgia

One of the catches of dating a guy and subsequently having friends who are all in their late 20's or early 30's is the fucking nostalgia. Everything from TV shows, cartoons and most especially music, this demographic never gets tired of reminiscing on the pop culture that molded their infinitely complex and highly visual young minds.

I've given up on trying to catch up completely, but once again by the end of the night the remaining 7 of us sat around Ryan's music and media corner and compared the vast difference in music scenes between early 90's and late 90's, who could name the most obscure TV show from the 80's, and the new bands that old band members from old bands have started (Shannon Hoon sang backup for Axl Rose in GNR), ad nauseum.

Morning After

But I think my favourite part of these gatherings are the morning afters when Kellie and Greg stay to take part in our Sunday breakfast routine. Chef Ryan always delivers a lip-smackin' (and nutritious) breakfast and I'll put on a couple of episodes of Flight of the Conchords as we wind down from the week and savor the moments before Monday.

This morning I had the pleasure of watching Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001) for the first time and I absolutely loved it! I'm really looking forward to the next time because the story has so many layers and textures and contexts which is unusual for a musical. Actually it's more of a rock opera.

The film so inspired me musically that I went out and bought a ukulele from Steve's on my way home to meet Mark for my music lesson. Not that I needed yet another distraction from my piano (as if 3+ pole dancing classes a week isn't enough), but the ukulele is portable and easy to pick-up, which makes for a good summer instrument for camping or playing in the park or balcony.

Meeting the Neighbours

After having anti-social and ill-mannered neighbours below us for the longest time, and then vacancy for over a month, we now have a new neighbour living in 168B. I met Josee this morning as she was hosing down our entry archway. French Canadian single-mom who's renovating the space below us by her self.

When we met her, she asked us if she wanted her to wash our door too. Ryan and I looked at each other kind of like do we WANT you to??? and not really sure how to say yes without feeling like we were ASKING her to. She saved us by saying, "Well, I might as well wash your door because if mine is washed and yours isn't, it'll look stupid." Fuck, I love her already.

Fluorescent Lights

So when I'm back at my desk tomorrow morning putting together a template for a market report card and discussing the US business acquisition strategy with my VP, I'll remember this weekend and know why I'm here at this place at this moment. I don't spend a lot of time wondering what it all means (blog posts to the contrary, but really), but nothing makes me feel more certain of my place in this universe than experiences like this.

Here There Everywhere

2008-05-29T14:09:00.003-07:00

Things have been weirdly changing and weirdly the same. Two weeks ago, I was flying and now I'm swimming in a vast ocean with no idea which way is land. Everything is fine and yet not quite. I've made friends with my new team, but I still don't feel like I'm a part of anything. Our wee apartment is lovely in the springtime, yet our washer's broken. I'm finally taking pole dancing lessons, but now I can't bend my arms at the elbows all the way.

In many ways, I'm used to this... the ever changing tide of an emotional Piscean. I suspect that I've lost my way in the demands of others. Putting me in an undefined role allows me too much room to roam and I think I've roamed too far. In the past two weeks, I've gone from being an acting creative director to submitting recommendations for a social media strategy. There haven't been any new competitive reviews to do, which is weird. And quite frankly, I'm annoyed that I still don't have a job title.

I know that job titles don't mean shit. Especially in my industry. But I still want one. It's like having an address or a phone number. How are people supposed to know who the hell you are? So that might be why I'm on edge, that and the fact that I haven't sat down and talked to my boss in two weeks either. Clearly it's all in my head because all I need to do is knock on his door and say hi. But I feel weird about it because I don't have anything to show him. The work I've been doing has been for other people. I feel silly for wasting his time. Argh. I should check and see if he's still here.

OK he's not there, but tomorrow I'm gonna do it. Why am I such a neurotic beast sometimes???

P.S. Did you notice that I just added twitter to my blog? It's easier than blogging and gets updated daily.

Creative Constipation

2008-05-01T18:38:00.003-07:00

As much as I love art, it doesn't come easy to me. Being a very thoughtful person, I often have to fight through a fog of overwhelming thoughts that keep me from being able to let loose those creative juices etc. This probably explains why I've never written a song even though I play piano, I can't seem to write any stories though I love to write, and I've never been able to produce a piece of art outside of my sketchbook.

It's frustrating when the skills come very easily to me but the creative process is so limited. Drugs never worked. I look back longingly to my childhood when I could and did draw everything and wrote stories about anything. I believed that when I grew up, I'd have all this wisdom and insight and culture that would channel through my fingers that would create something amazing.

Maybe I'm just not grown up yet.

Which Artist's Way?

I tried "doing" The Artists Way, and while it's a fantastic read and gives a lot of good suggestions, it didn't really solve my problem. I know it's supposed to un-stuck people who are stuck creatively, but my artist-block runs so deep I can literally feel it in my gut. It's like creative constipation.

What should I draw? What do I feel like drawing? What should I write about? What do I feel like writing about? What kind of music do I want to make? Does my voice sound as bad as I think it does? Who's my favourite artist? What kind of statement do I want to make?

These types of questions clog up the flow of any kind of spontaneity that might have allowed me to actually do something creative. But instead, I think and I think and I think my drawings and writing to death.

And don't even get me started about music.

Imagine taking classical piano for 10 straight years and not being able to do anything on those keys except read and memorize music. Not all classical students are like this of course, many actually learned enough from their training that they're able to sight-read and write songs. But not me. Why not me?

It may have something to do with my brain and training. I realized this soon after I started taking music lessons with Mark Ayton who I had met frequently at our friends parties where he'd astound me on his mandolin and make everyone laugh with his goofy blues solos. I consider it a blessing that our paths crossed and that he actually wanted to teach me about music.

It became apparent after our first class that all that piano training did was cause my mind to go into a cataonic trance everytime i sat down before a sheet of music. So the first thing to go was the sheet music. Mark has been slowly untangling the knots that my old piano teacher had slipped in every corner of my mind so that I'd be able to memorize enough songs adequately to pass each year's exams. And so she never needed to teach me anything about music at all.

Not that I blame her since I wasn't the most apt pupil, but still...

Now I wonder if there might be a way to untangle my other talents. I have a suspicion that the more writing I started to do for school, and the more art I had to hand in for my art assignments, the more I somehow started blocking the part of me that only did things for my own pleasure.

The problem is that I enjoyed creating for other people's pleasure. I liked being given assignments and blowing it out of the water. But I guess in many ways... this is too easy. And education isn't meant to stunt your growth, it's supposed to represent the beginning.

And so as I wander towards yet another hopeful summer - hopeful that I'll finally paint that matroishka; hopeful to paint something for my own home; hopeful that I might be able to jam with my friends... I'm a bit more optimistic this year. If Mark can untangle my love of music to the point where I can play for hours, singing, sounding out tunes that I like... then there must be a way for the rest to follow.

2008-04-17T19:10:00.002-07:00

it doesn't seem that long ago since we took this picture, but considering all the changes that's happened since that very day, we've all come a long way. what did we really know back then... about the condo market, career stress; work visas; salary negotiations; office politics; driving on the other side of the road; moving out of orangeville; love and even friendship.

the last is interesting because friendship in "adulthood" is vastly different than friendship of childhood or even university. trying to maintain friendships outside of a school setting becomes more and more difficult as life starts leading you into different directions. no matter how close you might live to one another - or how far away - doesn't necessarily determine whether the friendship survives the transitions of life.

in the past two months, i've had the incredible experience of reuniting with friends from as far back as elementary school; dinner with colleagues from the old porn days; kareoke with high school girl friends; coffee with industry mates; lunch dates to look forward to; dinner with CABBIES; the first unofficial Ultimate Book Club meeting; dinner parties with neighbourhood friends; etc.etc.etc.

it feels like spring brought with it an incredible tidal wave of familiar faces including MSN chats with my dad in China on some mornings. i wonder sometimes where we find the capacity to fill our lives with so many people when work and home demands so much from us alone. but these friends and family can draw from a bottomless well of love from me because they return the energy tenfold.

it feels so cliche to say that "life's short" - especially coming from someone who only just turned 24. but for some reason, i've always felt inexplicably old at times and not because i feel grown up... it's more like having a sentient experience of time where i can jump into a future where the pain of loss is just waiting for me. maybe everyone feels this way and doesn't want to talk about it.

there's no point in talking to it - borrowing yet another cliche "all things must end". i guess a part of me in the now is a bit outraged by the reality of it. why should things end when they are bursting with so much life, joy, beauty, love? it seems so bitterly unfair.

so i won't go on about it anymore. this is life in this very moment. we are all of us hyper-aware of this reality and what really gives me the courage to go on is the bravado of those around me. i've been fortunate to have met many individuals who rise to every occasion and i try to do the same in my own way.

i often like to think of my life as a book, or a drawing, or a piece of music... a giant snowball charging down a mountain gathering voices, thoughts, ideas, actions, creations, achievements and moments along the way. and i feel like i'm the snow that picks it all up, accepting what destiny has placed in my path as gifts rather than burdens.

i love the springtime.

6th chakra - seat of concealed wisdom

2008-03-26T13:41:00.003-07:00

as i travelled sleepily through the streets of a busy city in india, my attention focused on the bindis that float just between and above the eyebrows of everyone who passes by.

this is a movie of course because i've never been to india (yet) and i was surprised to see that everyone in this film both men and women wore bindis (i always throught that only women wore bindis as made popular in western cultures by gwen stefani and madonna).

in my semi-conscious fog i imagine the 6th chakras as eyes which we cannot see, but that which sees everything. the wise bindis winking and smiling at each other, silently acknowledging the divinity within each other, chuckling at the petty mortal problems that their bodies must endure in each life.

hello i'm the 6th chakra of jasmin, pleasure to meet you.

there are days when nothing matters anymore, it's all bullshit. people are stupid. some very fine thread of connection between my self and the rest of world is severed. and i suspect that this thread is connected to us by the 6th chakra.

my attraction to bindis starts here then. i can't help but wonder if wearing a bindi would help remind us every day that we are guided by something bigger than us - and i'm not talking about god or divinity. just our simple purpose in life - a purpose that has existed since the day we were born; passed on to us through ancient ancestry; directed by the ebb and flow today; and reaching always towards death and/or rebirth.

A Complete Overanalysis

2008-01-23T14:01:00.000-08:00

Ryan and I tried to watch Across the Universe again last night at home. We agreed that it's hard not to love a film at the premiere when you have the director and cast watching in the balcony above you and you’re wearing a cute little red vintage dress (I wore this, not Ryan).

Regardless of this, I still can't stop myself from watching the movie because it contains some awesome Beatles covers. If nothing else, this movie was just one big music video. And yes, of course the originals are better - the best. But what's wrong with paying homage? What's wrong with revival?

Creative Zombies Will Always Walk this Earth Forever

I'm not even a very nostalgic person (compared to most people I know). I grew up in an age when pop music was worse than it's ever been - the mid to late 90s were even worse than the 80's. I have no memory of any cartoon storyline. I didn't have very many toys except a Lite Brite and Play-Doh. I should be violently against everything that Across the Universe stands for with its lazy storyline and Beatles remixes.

But the fact is I'm really thankful to Julie Taymore for bringing their music back in an eventful way that we can enjoy at this contextual moment. The Beatles aren't around anymore to go on tour - most of us were not lucky enough to have been born in their time, and even less likely to have seen them in concert. So while I don't think Across the Universe will become a cult classic, artists of all forms will continue to be inspired by the Beatles for generations to come.

The Fountainhead

My love-hate relationship with Across the Universe is such a perfect example of the struggle between "classic" and "progressive" architecture in The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. What is right? Should we continue to re-purpose old styles and ideas because we have always loved them and are pretty much guaranteed the love and support of the masses? Or is this a bastardization of our god-given talents?

You Either Get it or You Don't

Classics because it's familiar and comfortable will always be easier to be accepted and loved. But luckily for us - in modern day North America, we are hungry for originality. However, unlike the setting in The Fountainhead, I suspect that we're starting to love original things because that's what's expected of us - and not necessarily because we have developed an understanding of it.

It just doesn’t matter whether you're into classic or progressive things - I think the point is to get it and know it and own it.

Job Title: Miscellaneous

2008-01-11T14:13:00.000-08:00

On January 20th, when I go to my school reunion where everyone will be passing out business cards and talking shop - I'm fairly certain that no one will have any idea what I'm talking about. Sometimes when I try to explain to people what I'm striving for - I can see their eyes sort of float off in boredom and I change the subject. What's the point?

It used to be so easy - "I work in advertising - I work on such-and-such brands" and mock-modestly saying how being an exec is a less glamorous job than it sounds.

The truth is, trying to be strategic in your career is like playing chess. It's slow. It's fucking complicated. But you have to look several steps ahead of the game in order to checkmate.

Oh the glory of it all!

I left a really fun agency job for a not-so-fun anti-agency job when I decided that I really wanted to be an interactive strategic planner. I've never heard of such a thing - and there wasn't such an opportunity at my last agency.

I want to learn so bad. Coming out of school, my quest for the Big Idea has been incessant. And now I've landed in a situation where I've sacrificed:

My pride (a cushy agency job)
My job title (account executive)
My agency connections (I try my best to keep in touch)
My cubicle (I sit on an island visible to all the VP's of this company)

Running on Faith

A part of me is very sad at this job. There's none of the razzle dazzle I miss so much. Sometimes I get so fucking tired of myself for ALWAYS being so goddamn demanding on myself. As I sit here while my ass gets fatter every day... when I'm about ready to just fucking be done with it - I'm confronted with a vision.

I see myself one day collaborating with other energetic, inspired people pumping out brilliant and elaborate strategies like it's nobody's business. It's this vision that keeps me going when I'm putting together Powerpoint presentations or talking to voicemails. I'd very much like to see it come true. Sooner rather than later would be nice.

Ever been beat up by your drug dealer?

2007-12-03T13:58:00.001-08:00

It's been a month since I consciously decided to stop smoking. It was going really well until last Wednesday. Ryan was taking his mom and his aunt out for dinner, and I was left to my own devices.

I ordered thai food and did some yoga, but couldn't concentrate so I stopped at my 7th Sun Salutation B. My mind was on the pot. How many evenings have I spent eating delicious curry pad thai and watching some inane television show? That was my Thing - ask anyone who had ever visited me in my old apartment on Dufferin. Oh the good old days...

Luckily, Leann called and saved me from my own weak pathetic self. I tried to justify the temptation - I can't even enjoy a glass of wine, I'm entitled to this blah blah blah. She accused me of "wanting to have a crutch" and she was right. 100%. Just because everyone else has crutches, does that make them right? Does that mean I can too - knowing full well what a useless pile of turd I turn into when I overindulge?

So I didn't. The tiny rolled roach is still sitting on my kitchen table. It comforts me to know that it's there. It's a reminder that I'm choosing to not smoke it - that it's not a situation thing (i.e. "If only I could buy some...")

Sometimes It's Worth It

But then two days later, I did choose to indulge. It was at Leann's birthday and someone had rolled her a beautiful, perfect, impossibly gorgeous blunt of a fresh blueberry strain. It shined like a beacon before me and I chose to treat myself. If I was going to cheat, I was going to do it in style. I smoked it like Clinton smoked his Monica laced cigar.

Wherein I Get My Ass Kicked

I was pretty proud of myself because I didn't smoke the next night when the recovering party people were trying to relieve their aches and pains. Perhaps I was feeling overly confident in my ability to resist temptation so my subconscious decided to drive the point home last night in a very vivid violent dream against drugs.

I was at my old apartment, grey and brown and hazy, and I was anxiously awaiting the arrival of my new dealer. This guy had high-end stuff, and I was very excited. He came over and sold me an ounce. I asked him how much it cost and he gave me a dirty look.

"Haven't you looked at the price sheet?"

1 ounce = $296.49

I don't have that kind of cash, but the dealer was giving off a totally bad vibe. I agreed to go to the bank machine and when we get there, he pounces on me and starts beating the crap out of my face. Blood and teeth are flying and I'm afraid of what my family and colleagues will think when they see me like this.

It doesn't take a psychoanalyst to interpret this dream. I just thought it was pretty fucking hilarious. It's nice to know that I've got my own back.

everything in its place

2007-11-30T11:10:00.000-08:00

lately, i've been finding a lot of inspiration from the idea that everything on this earth - in this universe - is made of the same fundamental matter. you could call it quarks an electrons, but maybe there's something even more fundamental than that which even encompasses that which we dream and think and feel. different forms of reality, anything that projects or retains energy.

i find myself reflecting on where i fit in this world of ours and i'm just filled with a feeling of gratitude. not because of the material things i have though of course it's great to wear cute outfits and live in my own condo, but when i really think about how the universe presents stranger after stranger, challenge after challenge, and it just blows my mind how many friends and rewards one acquires over a lifetime.

displacement

all my life i've suffered from bouts of depression, guilt, frustration... and it dawned on me sometime while i was sleeping last night that some of it at least is the product of displacement. either the displacement of a person or thing in my life where i'm continually trying to force-fit some ideal and being disappointed that things just AREN'T.

how i've tossed and turned at night over things that i wanted. i used to think that was ambition - right? to intensely want something? but having been working seriously now for two years, i can say that success has only come through intensely focusing on creativity, and the power of desire has only blind-sighted me.

creativity as a means of attracting shtuff

it's obvious that there are some people and things we are naturally drawn to or who are naturally drawn to us, but even that's not necessarily a direct result of our desire. the more direct way to acquire something we want is to do something to attract it - like get into a new type of music, create a new look, read a new book, write a new resume, change your voicemail message. i really do see all of this as creativity... it's putting yourself into a place to acquire something new be it a skill, knowledge, friends or recognition.

dancing as a religion

i need to get home to put together a playlist for leann's birthday party. here's what i have so far:

99 Red Balloons by Nena
Hong Kong Garden by Siouxie and the Banshees
D.A.N.C.E. by Justice

if dancing were a religion, i'm gonna be praying my ass off tonight!

the basic elements of love and creativity

2007-11-26T10:53:00.000-08:00

Before there was life, there were the four elements. Air. Earth. Water. Fire.

These elements were separate, yet they were comprised of the same basic elemental force.

One day, something changed the way these elements existed. unconscious of one another. A feeling of attraction overcame the elements, thus the origin of life.

What brought the elements together? Was it something within the elements - something that stirred in the elemental force that bound them? Or was there an outside catalyst?

Humanity has been searching for an answer since we were able to form thoughts. Men and women have dedicated entire lives to solve this mystery, and many lives have been lost fighting wars in an attempt to win this argument with violence.

Before there was life, these elements existed without history or observation. Although we cannot recreate the beginning of time, there is a more common denomination of attraction that humanity has the ability to understand: love.

Not to be confused with desire, true love comes from a deep place within us and grows exponentially and irrationally with time. So perhaps, these elements who complemented each other so naturally for so many lifetimes began to develop a fondness for one another. Although they took vastly different forms, they recognized that they were basically the same. In this recognition came acceptance. In unquestioned acceptance came love.

As these elements opened up to each other, they began to create using their varied attributes. Through these actions and reactions, they evolved into more than just four elements. So deep and so strong was their love, that they began the limitless, wonderous and unstoppable experiment that is creation.

Photography by Philip Toledano. Visit: mrtoledano.com

My Brain has Taken Me Hostage

2007-11-17T15:19:00.001-08:00

this week was all about consumption. i guess i was hungry! i'm really good at filling my belly with delicious food, but my mind was famished. i was desperate for lots of stimulation, sparkling new ideas, magic beans that would sprout even more thoughts.

i think it's normal to go into phases where your mind becomes a bit lethargic and all of a sudden it wakes up and kicks your ass all the way to the bookstore, or the movie store, or the theatre, or just places that can sometimes feel too out of the way or activities that seem time consuming. i guess my mind has been asleep for some time and now it's holding my eyes hostage. my eyes want want to eat everything with substance.

Words as Food for Eyeballs

i mentally consumed a book that Laura lent me called The End of Mr. Y. i won't give you the synopsis, but it's definitely one of the best fictions i've read in a long time. similar to the way Eat Pray Love conveyed some very deep spiritual ideas in a very relatable, absorbable way; The End of Mr. Y conveys some very complex metaphysical ideas in a very digestable, plausible way.

i like the juxtaposition of the two books that i've read basically back to back and they complimented each other really well. where the first opened up my heart, the second opened up my mind. it's like the universe is set on dissecting me, or maybe i'm trying to dissect myself.

so next on my reading list:

Moving Images as Beverage for Eyeballs

last night, ryan and i went to see the first movie at the theatre in ages. since the summer, there have only less than a handful of movies that were worth paying for, but since the film festivals have ended, there are at least four movies that i desperately want to watch.

last night we saw Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, a Sidney Lamet film starring one of my favourites: Philip Seymour Hoffman. again, no synopsis here, but what i absolutely loved about it was the poetic symmetry of the storyline. and the acting just fucking jumps off the screen on all sides. the story is dark, unfolding the snowball effect of someone who makes one bad decision after the next.

although Marisa Tomei's character really doesn't shine in this movie, despite the fact that her role is integral to the aforementioned Series of Bad Decisions, i really loved her wardrobe from this film. that is when she's wearing anything at all because she does spend a couple of scenes showing off her nipples.

i was shocked when i found out that Sidney Lamet's 85 years old! i'm not a huge movie buff, but knowing the directors helps set a context for films, especially if i watch a lot of films from the same director (like David Lynch). Sid did a fantastic job, and the reason why i was surprised was because the style was really edgy and powerful.

he chose a stylish method of flipping between scenes and timelines that really added to the desperate pace of the movie - it kind of visually stimulated an "uh-oh moment" where it makes you feel like shitting your pants: something Bad has happened. and then the way he would open a scene with a close-up of the character's faces (and you can imagine the amount of pure emotion that pours out from Albert Finney) and lets it pan out to lead your mind and give you context to the scene before a word is said.

it was lovely to be in the hands of such an experienced film director.

next on the movie list:

Please Feed Eyeballs Here

If there are any books, movies, new artists that you want to feed me, please make recoomendations here. if there's music that you want to suggest... well, this is a sore spot for me because i lost my nano 3 weeks ago, and well... lets just say i've been humming to myself a lot.

an odyssey through the mind of a recovering pothead

2007-11-12T19:18:00.000-08:00

it's been 15 days since my last inhale of sweet mary jane. i'm not going to turn this into an MA diary, but it's a big deal for me. for the past 5 years, i've been a habitual marijuana smoker - a purist even because i took a lot of pride in always breaking my buds by hand and rolling with artisan pride.

although i didn't smoke that much, i was addicted. i used to count the minutes so that i could get home, shed my pants and bra, roll one perfect little joint and smoke half of it before i sank languidly into my couch for a night of mindless television.

loserville

sounds lame now, but at the time it was sheer bliss. it was my goddamn canadian right to get high whenever i wanted. and of course i still socialized, went to parties, talked on the phone, did enough stuff to stay on the other side of loserville. but after 5 years of living on my own... i realized i had nothing to show for it.

for the longest time i've longed to be an artist or a musician or both. and i lazily pursued these things by doodling sporadically in a sketchbook, and i bought an electric piano (a la Squints prize money) 2 years ago - in case i suddenly woke up one day as mozart or chopin or something. meanwhile, i smoked and watched a LOT of tv most of which i don't remember.

when shit starts to roll, it snowballs

and so, quite recently a series of events seemingly unrelated set into motion a 360* change in my life:

quit my old job
read a book
went to a halloween party

lobotomy

quitting my old job was the second most difficult thing i ever had to do. the first being when i dropped out of high school and ran away from home. i'm not being dramatic, but leaving my last agency was really emotionally difficult. and when i realized i could no longer rely on my job to provide enough stimulus in my life to keep me out of loserville... something inside me snapped pretty fucking hard.

salvation

the only thing that kept me mentally stable was a book that jen lent me, eat pray love, which i read so slowly in an attempt to draw out the good vibes for as long as i could. in a way, i was addicted to this book, needed it like a raft in the middle of a stormy ocean, and was terrified that the sky would fall in squash me like a puny, irrelevant lady bug if it ended. well, it ended, but nothing bad happened. surprise!

friends

i went to wes and amanda's annual halloween party in beeton, on. it was the First Night I Didn't Smoke and when i realized that i didn't miss it. i still had the best time playing a hand drum while wes and mark jammed on the guitar and mandolin; i had a really stimulating conversation about the ages of known universe; i woke up early and did a couple of sun salutations; and it was just... good. pure goodness. it wasn't the first time i hadn't smoked for a night or two, or even a week or two. but it was the first time i wasn't counting the days 'til my time-out was over. it was the first time i was adding up the days that i don't feel the need to escape from reality anymore. it's totally like "look, mommy, no hands!"

it was also at this party when i asked mark to give me music lessons. turns out, he was looking to give them and we agreed to start that very next sunday. auspicious!

being a fully functional human being

so now, my daily routine is this:

7:00 - roll out of bed from intensely vivid dreams that are easily and immediately analyzed
8:30 - drink homemade mexican coffee with instant oatmeal breakfast
9 - 12 - work
12 - 1 - eat delicious lunch from le gourmand
1 - 5 - work
6 - 7 - yoga
7 - 8 - piano
8 - 9 - dinner
9 - 10 - tv
10 - 11 - reading

then my weekends are filled with more yoga, my music lesson, visiting friends, lazy sunday breakfast, chores and other productive shit, and whatever arty thing i feel like doing like writing, drawing, etc.

balance.

now, i'm not stupid. i know one of these days, something will trip up this perfect, cyclical system i have devised to help myself become the person i feel like i should be. but for the first time since i declared my independence, i have the mental capacity to sustain and accommodate the demands of time. maybe i'll smoke again one day. maybe i'll start taking the language classes my mom's been bugging me to sign up for. maybe i'll start learning how to do my own taxes. whatever.

i'm just not afraid of running out of time to vegetate because i still vegetate a lot, just in small doses... just long enough for me to get bored and get off my ass and do something like carve a halloween pumpkin on the 12th of november, or write a long-awaited blog post.

Note to Self

2007-10-04T17:22:00.000-07:00

When you get stuck at a cross-roads, do you take the high road or the safe road? Do you follow your sense of adventure, or your common sense? Is there such a thing as too risky? Is there really no turning back? Never thought I'd get here so soon, but here I am, and thanks for taking an interest - would you like a complimentary piece of my heart?

Get over yourself. Your delusions of grandeur must end here.

inspiration

2007-07-10T14:26:00.000-07:00

i met a really cool Brazilian illustrator last night at Laura's house, Fabiana, who illustrates children's books in Brazil. her work is beautiful, delightful, vibrant and lyrical - much like the artist herself. anyway, i found it absolutely inspiring so i had to share it here.

the condo is ALMOST finished, we're going to start staining our bed and headboard tonight. because we've been spending so much time there painting and doing laundry, it's really starting to feel like home. i find it hard going back to Dufferin at night to find TJ playing some hideously violent videogame and having to hide in our tiny, windowless bedroom to smoke my pipe, eat chocolate and read Gone with the Wind to knock myself out for the night. i hope i can leave this disgusting lifestyle behind me once and for all.

oh wait, i haven't written in like 3 months! you probably didn't know that ryan and i bought a condo at King & Niagara (awesome neighbourhood!) and i got a promotion at work (Account Executive sounds so much sexier than account coordinator). work is going pretty well as i adjust to my new role and responsibilities. Jordan (from work) and i managed to pull off the most fabulous summer party for the Toronto office - Sin is In (7 deadly sins theme) at the Steamwhistle Brewery. we blew over $40K and didn't look back! god, i love throwing big parties with other people's money. also, i debuted as a model at Leann's debut as a real, superb, astonishingly talented photographer.

i'm feeling very lucky these days. despite the distractions, all i really want to is to focus on working on my illustration portfolio. i'm aching to create, i'm aching to push my talent to the next level. will start blogging more too.

2007-07-05T11:28:00.001-07:00

i miss art

Rebirth

2007-04-15T11:02:00.000-07:00

Springtime in Toronto is not as charming as in other parts of the world where cherry blossoms bloom amidst the birds singing their mating songs. While the snow has melted, instead of seeing bright green little buds of rebirth we are confronted with dead brown grass, partially deteriorated dog shit and garbage that the snow had been hiding all this time.

But having grown up in Toronto, we're all accustomed to the reluctant departure of winter and despite the pre-teen temperatures, girls around the city are already showing more leg and ankles in anticipation of the summer to come.

I've spent the morning dancing around the apartment in a soft-nude-pink summer dress with lace trim and my brand new silver Adidas by Stella McCartney flats listening to 23, Blonde Redhead's latest album. BR is a band that I listened to in high-school that was far ahead of its tim with its distorted layers of guitar mixed with the Japanese opera style vocals of its lead singer. But even as a "sophisticated" teenager, I failed to fully appreciate the unique beauty of this band.

Their new album makes me sway and twirl like a spring blossom in the wind and I think this signifies the fact that my taste is music is changing. Not that I'm renouncing anything that I like, but I'm opening up to more ambient, stylized music like Air and Charlotte Gainsbourg. My desire to jump around with fists in the air has lessened probably because I do enough of that at work in a way.

It's been awhile, Blog, and I guess I'm growing up. Since my last post, I've been working hard and have received some recognition for my efforts; I turned 23 in March; I got my full driver's license last week; Ryan and I are condo-shopping in a highly competitive downtown market; and I started sketching again.

These are all reasons why I have neglected you because I seek balance in my life. Though I cannot give you as much attention as I used to, you are still important to me as a sounding board for ideas, thoughts and feelings. There is something therapeutic about seeing my own words published on the world wide web where anyone could stumble upon it (not that many people do) and can be inspired or intrigued or sympathetic.

I promise there will be other posts soon. I miss you!

i am matroishka

2007-01-18T07:06:00.000-08:00

I call her Hailey because her eyes are an intense green/yellow like the cover of the latest Mark Z. Danielewski epic. She is a symbol of eternal youth, forever bathing in sunlight on a beach. Sounds sexy? She actually looks dangerously young, but that's besides the point. I painted her; she is a figment of my imagination that manifested herself into my reality. I think all painters must feel like this after they have created something special. After two miserable painting attempts, I was finally able to paint something coherent. To anyone but her and I, the painting holds no more depth than a pretty picture. But to us, it was an exploration of colour, texture and detail the likes of which I had never experienced before.

Most of my previous works have been in charcoal, pencil, basically just black and white because I was afraid of paint, and pencil crayons and pastels could never produce the richness I demanded. Painting always intimidated me because of its absolute Thereness. Paintings are sold for hundreds to thousands to millions of dollars and are hung in people's homes, museums and galleries. They are masterpieces. How many doodles and drawings ever make it on to people's walls? Probably more than I suspect, but still, there is something very intimidating about paint. And my previous attempts failed because I never knew what I wanted to paint. I would sit there with all my little squiggle squeezes of paint lined up in a row and I would paint a little here and paint a little there, but when no coherent idea formed on the canvas, I would get discouraged.

Last week, I was chatting with my manager, Jen, about painting and she said she was surprised that I didn't paint because I was such a good drawer. And as OBVIOUS as that may seem, it really never occurred to **me** that I could paint over my drawings. Stupid, right? I thought I had to paint from scratch, when the very simple key to unlocking my ability to paint has always been there.

So I drew a very simplistic sketch of what would eventually become Hailey, and the process of painting took on a life of its own.

Hailey isn't finished yet, but is very close. I worked on her all day on Saturday and I still haven't figured out where exactly she is yet, and I haven't quite finished her skin and lips. They lack depth. When she's finished, I will surely share her with you, my friends, with the help of our amazing new HP scanner/printer/photo printer.

I'm excited to get a few other paintings going at the same time because I know myself and I know I'll need at least two or three going at any given time to keep me interested. However, my apartment is too dark, and there simply are not enough hours of sunlight in the day to satisfy my cravings to create. I'm seriously considering investing in some proper lighting, although I just paid off my Christmas credit card bill and am not really in a good position to do so.

Oh, and I want to paint matroishkas (Russian nesting dolls). My friend, Jen, has a friend who works at Loomis and can get me a discount. Blank ones are surprisingly expensive.

That's the way the fortune cookie crumbles.

2007-01-10T10:22:00.000-08:00

I got really angry at my mom the other night when she called to tell me what her fortune teller told her about me.

Chinese people are very superstitious - everything from the Number 4 to the Number 8, Chinese astrology and Feng Shui. All of which is embraced with blind faith that we might be able to control our destinies.

I was affected by my mother's superstition from an early age. I have always known that shortly after I was born, my mother went to see a fortune teller (by herself) and they told her that her daughter would grow up to be a very successful business woman. Imagine her growing concern when it became quite obvious from an early age that I'm a dreamy, artsy type who would choose my own imagination over a calculator anyday. I was forced throughout school to sacrifice my interest in the arts to make sure I had a well-rounded curriculum in order to get into law school or business school.

Since I ended up at neither, I can't help but wonder what I would be doing right now if I had been allowed to explore all the areas of the arts that I was interested: writing, drawing, painting, theatre, music, etc.etc.etc. Instead, I was force-fed piano lessons and as a result I have lost any ability to make music without sheet music to show me how. I can draw, but can't paint to save my life. And the only acting I get to do these days is around Ryan's dad's family where I have to filter everything I say lest I come off as too strange or wild.

Anyway, I got angry with her the other night because she told me "Babies born in the afternoon aren't as good as babies born in the morning." She wasn't able to elaborate as to what "good" or "bad" meant. I was born at noon.

I know all she wanted to do was to chat with me, but telling me this superstitious bullshit has only ever confused my grasp on life. I know logically that I should just ignore it, but having lived with it hanging over my head my entire life, I can't take shit like this lightly. And I refuse to let it back in my life anymore. It's difficult enough trying to make sense of life (what I should be doing, where do I want to go in life...); adding random, vague superstition to the equation only confuses things.

My mom says she doesn't take this superstitious stuff seriously, but she obviously does or she wouldn't bother with it at all. I think we all want to know our fortunes sometimes - to validate our actions and choices in life, but in the end - what does any of it matter? Fortune tellers can't help us solve a goddamn thing.

2007-01-04T07:10:00.000-08:00

Dear Blog,

How long has it been since I felt the soft caress of cyberspace? Too long and now my heart is filled with dread that perhaps you have forgotten me. I have not forgotten you, sweet Blog. Though I write everyday in a manual notebook, I long to have my thoughts engraved in the deep folds of cyberspace for the world to read. If I could carry you in my purse, Blog, I certainly would.

Do people even use the term "cyberspace" anymore? There's a certain delicious tinge of retro that I, being a youngster, rarely have the priviledge of enjoying. I'm going to be 23 this year in March. It's not a milestone year, but I do want to throw a great big party to celebrate my early twenties while I'm still in it.

I always look forward to New Year though I don't usually keep my resolutions. I didn't have one this year because I can't say that there's any one particular thing that I want to focus on. I look at my life as an ongoing science/art project and my priorities change constantly depending on my mood, the demands of others, etc. etc. But I think resolutions are good and for some people, keeping a resolution can change their life forever! I guess for me, my resolution every year is to become a better person. Every year I try different techniques and experiment with different areas of my life. This year, I will be focusing mainly on health and order. These are two things that have been neglected for too long and somehow I will find the resources within myself to enforce some rules and regulation to my life - a life which til now has been devoted to rejecting and shitting on rules and regulations.

Maybe I'm finally growing up?

I shudder at the thought, but I'm tired of living my own lazy filth; breathing in the residue odour of my own apathy. Ryan will be happy to read this, but he will know not to interfere with my methods. Since I was an only child, I'm not used to sharing my thoughts with others and I generally do not require other people's unsolicited advice. People who know me well know to trust me to find my own way, even if it's not the way "most" people would approach things, I like to do things the way it works for me.

So 2006 ended quite nicely with the Python Christmas Party (where I lost my title as Squints Champion... It's sad I know), Fjord Holiday Party (bowling/kareoke party that was probably the best party this year), and the Cossette One Night In Paris Party (see pic below).

From left to right: LaLong (my yoga buddy and fellow Only Child), Stephen (web developper), Hugh (Flash extraordinaire), Nick (writer/singer/dancer), and me.

Here's to 2007!

delusions

2006-12-12T04:23:00.000-08:00

Ryan found an amazing MICROSOFT (yes Microsoft can apparently be amazing sometimes) commercial made by [drumroll] 72andSunny!

See it here.

The entire concept is beautiful illustrating the simple pleasure of sharing with friends, and it's executed brilliantly in claymation and brought to life by the heart-tugging music of M. Ward. But that's not all - the campaign also consists of an entire website of Zune art that is yes... very very good. Upon further investigation, the site is sort of a collection of shared art (like deviantart). There's not a ton of non-professional work on there, but Microsoft seems to have hired many talented creative boutiques to create some of the videos.

I know already - have always known - that deep in my heart, I will NOT be selling cars for the rest of my life. From day 1 when I first contacted Eric (a Seneca alumni at work) who asked me whether I wanted to work on a car account or a mobile phone account, I told him straight up that I know nothing about cars and would prefer to work on mobile phones. Obviously, it did not work out that way - the car account needed me more. Not that I'm complaining because I adore the team I currently work with - and it's a very well-organized account to learn about account management on.

Sometimes, it's painfully difficult to be patient with my learning curve. Trying to learn about account management on an account that I cannot really relate to can be frustrating some days. I have been noticing brands of cars on the road more and my ears perk up whenever the news talks about the auto industry, but I don't even own a car - can't even drive! School had spoiled us all in allowing us to more or less pick and choose what brands and products we wanted to work on. In reality, we rarely have the opportunity to choose.

But when I see creative like what 72andSunny produce, I know what it is I'm working so hard toward. Account management to me is more than just client services, it's inspiring and challenging the creative team to bring a strong strategy to life in a unique and artistic way. I could spend hours philosophizing over the advertising business, probably because I'm still young and naive.

I was having dinner with the J3 the other night (Jonathan, Jen and me makes J3), and we were talking about geeks. Jen is a videogame and movie geek. Jonathan is an advertising geek. But I realized that I'm not really a geek at anything. I'm a bit of a generalist where I absorb information around, but I don't dedicate the majority of my time to any one topic in particular. If anything, I spend more time reflecting on my performance at work, my social skills, my neuroses, and my personal relationships more than anything else. So, I guess I'm a personal growth geek.

While Jonathan really is an advertising geek, I think I'm just as passionate about advertising as Jonathan is, but in a completely different way. He loves the business of it, the big corporate campaigns, the 30 second TV spot - the empire of advertising as it stands today. But what I love is the new and exciting horizon of advertising (like interactive). I'm intrigued about the areas of the industry that probably scares the crap out of the traditionalists who can plainly see the shift in media habits in North America.

If you look at the media habits of people under the age of 30, you're looking at the media habits of the future. To me, that future means that in order for advertising to remain relevant, it must a.) be consumer-centric (the consumer decides if or when they want to hear or see your message, or b.) a integral part of popular culture. The former will target on niche markets. The latter will target mass markets - but true mass the way we know it from the old Coca-Cola days will be more difficult to achieve because we will all belong to more niche markets than mass.

I'm staying home sick today, which is why I have time to sit around and let my brain vomit useless musings all over this blog post. I could go on, but really... what the fuck do I know? I need to console myself by watching that Microsoft commercial again.

the Universe is Calling

2006-11-20T14:33:00.000-08:00

I found this post last Monday night. Nothing on this Vice Magazine message board had anything remotely to do with me. But for some reason, this Stacey girl was looking for me last May.

So, I looked up 72andSunny and find out it's an ad agency based in California AND Amsterdam. Excitement Level: Very High. It felt like something had reached out across the universe and grabbed me by the ear.

Turns out they are currently hiring for a new receptionist. But at least I know who they are - and they work with some pretty cool clients like XBox.

In this sequence of identical grey Toronto winter days, can you blame me for dreaming of the west coast? Ryan and I even discussed it so far as to what we would do if they really did have a job to offer me - I would move to California for a year to see if the job is stable and if life was financially sustainable, and if after a year, I didn't want to come back, he would look into the option of joining me.

So even though 72andSunny wasn't calling me from across the universe, perhaps this was to spark some foresight into a decision I may have to make later. I hold no illusions that I'm even close to ready to work competitively in the States, but the option is always there. Ideal European Places: Spain, Amsterdam, London, Berlin...

As I nurse my sledgehammer cold, I daydream of places that are 72* and sunny.

Purge

2006-11-16T16:27:00.000-08:00

Life is balance. I'm always trying to find balance in my life, but the state of perfection was never meant to last more than a beautiful fleeting moment.

This was probably the most stressful week ever - and when I came in to work this morning, it was like everything I was so worried about had come true. Kind of like showing up at school naked and realizing it's not a dream. I am so embarrassed because there's no hiding from responsibility. And I'm a firm believer in being accountable for my own fuck-ups. When my ex-boyfriend from high-school's mom ALMOST caught us having sex in her house, I wrote her a letter explaining to her how much I cared about her son and how we were being 100% safe and responsible.

I'm still curious about what she thought about that letter, but she certainly never talked to me about it. She treated me the same as before she caught us and I think she always knew I was too smart for her son.

Anyway, maybe because I was brought up by my single Chinese mother, but I have an insatiable desire to apologize for everything. It's probably my greatest weakness, I'm so willing to take the blame. This stems from my mother not ever letting me get away with stupidity - I have to face my own shameful, bleeding insides - give it air and sunlight so that it can heal and get better. As a result, I've become a pretty submissive person when it comes to working with others and this post is one of those shameful, bleeding posts I must make in order to get over it and move on.

The good news is, I don't even have to tell you anything about it. The details aren't important, what has had me so forlorn all day is the fact that I let everyone down, including the client, and though everyone has been very nice and supportive, not pointing any fingers, I know deep down that there must have been something I could have done better - a decision I could have made that could have diverted this fiasco.

Learning how to make decisions in a fast-paced environment like this is part of the job. Why can't I just naturally be smarter? Yes, even smarter and more "cerebral" than I already am! The problem is, I'm smarter in writing than I am in person. I'm afraid to speak up, I get nervous when I speak to people I'm imitated by (which includes so many people I have no idea why - anything from seniority, attitude, education, I'm just a messy ball of insecurity sometimes when I'm not feeling like the hottest shit in the universe), and I st-st-st-stutter when I get nervous! My impressive vocabulary is never anywhere to be found and I just hate this inferiority complex I have to deal with.

Maybe I'm bi-polar or something, but there are weeks when I'm so confident, I feel like I might be suffering from delusions of grandeur, and then other weeks when I think at any moment I might get fired (like today).

Anyway, this is not a good post. I almost wish I didn't write all this out because I think for the most part, you know exactly who I am and I am not always this neurotic, in fact, I've been told I'm one of the most un-neurotic women that a couple of my boyfriends (past and present) have ever met. So, I leave you with this...

@(>_<)@

I have always hated being the monkey in the middle. But now it's actually my job.

n a m a s t e

2006-11-09T14:58:00.000-08:00

From me to you with love.

How can everything suck so bad but feel so good?

2006-11-07T14:17:00.000-08:00

This is not a work blog. I'm not going to gripe about work on this blog because there is so much more to life than just work. There's music, art, friends and family, all this richness that I have to admit, the fact that I make a regular salary is definately a benefit in facilitating all these wonderful areas of my life.

But today was FUCKED! Basically, I've been trying to coordinate an online survey with someone in Montreal and they made a last-minute, critical decision without notifying me or anyone on my team about it, and then my manager got all intensely disatisfied and I felt like such a dumbass for not being more "proactive" on the project, and yeah, it totally was my fault for not calling them last night to check up on them even though I was here til 7:30, but it's also true that they should have notified me sooner - before they made the decision, but anyway, this is one of those days when I really hate this bullshit back and forth, and I'm trying very hard not to take this personally because I'm still learning yes, I'm still young and learning and I can't be perfect all the time.

Sigh.

The DECEMBERISTS were super-fantastique last night! Their latest album is a total snooze, but they are wonderful musicians and got all 1,000 people at the Koolhaus singing and dancing together. I haven't seen that many bands who do this (as in interact with the crowd and get them involved with the show). In my experience, it's only been the Decemberists and Akron/Family - two of my favouritest bands. I don't like the idea of musicians being worshipped like gods, acting like they're doing us a favour for putting on a show. But that's the hippie side of me talking, all men are equal, blah blah blah. I say this now, but see if I don't piss myself if I ever met Madonna or Bono in real life.

But you know the scene in Baraka where a crowd of native African people are waving their hands in the air and out infront of them and making a crazy sound. Now place yourself at dingy little Lee's Palace, suffocatingly hot because they never turn on the air for concerts, and imagine all these trendy little indie tits doing this in concert with the band, Akron/Family. Fucking awesome!

O Lord, open my heart,
Lord bring me near!
Lord, open my heart, and
Turn it into a mirror.
To reflect the myriad colour lights
of Love and Space.

- Akron/Family

I'm not a religious person - in fact, I would be inclined to change the word "lord" to "please" - but I'm a pretty spiritual person in that I feel very connected to this crazy world of ours. I'm sensitive to the changes in the air, the changes in politics and culture, and to me, love and space are the elements that tie us all together - sentient beings to non.

Singing that song at an Akron/Family show is the closest I've ever come to feeling a spiritual connection with an unorganized religion - and that's the way I like it!

MIA

2006-11-02T15:18:00.000-08:00

I think I stopped blogging around the time when my grandmother passed away. I haven't been talking about it, it's still difficult to think about it, but that's partly the reason why I was MIA from the blogosphere for two months.

It was a very strange time for me because she was the first person in my immediate family to pass away in my lifetime. My grandparents and my aunt in Hong Kong (dad's side of the family) passed away a few years ago, but that didn't hurt so much because they were far away. I suspect that I will feel their loss much more the next time I visit. The last time I visited was almost four years ago. It'll be strange to go back and not have the grandparents to eat dinner with and brag to about my "success" in Canada.

My mom's mom's passing was a little different because I had to be there. I was there all summer visiting her at the hospital, crying at strange times when I found myself facing the reality of death - not only of my grandmother, but of every single person I hold dear. Obviously, it's not healthy to think like that, but at the time, death was staring me in the face, calling me on the phone crying, and I had nothing else to do but to deal with it the best I could - I hid.

I didn't want to blog anymore because all I could think was morbid thoughts; I didn't want to talk about it because all I wanted to talk about was how everyone was going to die. Some people might recommend it - purge all those bitter emotions - but the last thing I wanted to do was wallow in it. I took minimal days off from work and basically threw myself into my new job that my grandmother never knew about and just fucking forced myself to not worry about it.

It's been two months now and I can finally share this. This which might have posed a gigantic ?uestion Mark above your head - those of you who are used to me sharing my thoughts and feelings with you. Thank you for being there for me whether you knew I needed it or not.

Next post won't be so heavy. I promise!

Holy Fuck

2006-11-01T15:06:00.000-08:00

Could I have waited any longer to update my blog? Needless to say, much has changed since my last post. I don't even remember what I wrote last time, but who cares.

I'm much more comfortable at work now - one might say that I'm actually happy at work now. The job like all jobs has its up-days and down-days, but mostly I just love working with the people here. There's definately a strong sense of teamwork within the department and I think for the most part, people are very accepting and encouraging of other people's quirks. I think people enjoy it when I shock them with my obscene sense of humor and potty mouth. Of course I still keep myself in check (this isn't porno afterall), but today par example, we were gathered around the lunch table eating cheese, discussing how some people don't like certain words like "bush", "panties", "moist", "cunt" and "cock". Y'all who are reading this are probably smirking a snobby porno smirk because we have all heard, seen and said much worse. I guess I must have softened since working for Python - I actually found this conversation amusing with cheese.

I also joined a gym! I've never joined a gym before; never ever had to think about staying in shape before, but I found that within the 6 months that I have been working here, I've gained around 10 lbs! Some of it I'm not complaining about - at 22 my tits are still growing! I blame it on asian genes. But I've got superfluous back fat, thigh fat, ass fat, neck fat and most obviously - arm fat. If I don't take care of this now, in 3 years I might be 30 lbs fatter and it'll be three times as difficult to get back to the same shape I was in when I modeled for Miss B.

I think I gave up on being hot during school, but now I'd like to be hot again.

Oh, and please do not comment on how I'm not fat. I know I'm not FAT. But I'm definately not IN SHAPE. I'm definately GAINING WEIGHT.

Hopefully, now that I've got this one post up, I will start blogging regularly. I've got a TON of pics to share from Old Hallow's Eve - but here's some from Zombie Walk 2006.

What would you want to wear in your coffin?

2006-09-01T11:08:00.000-07:00

Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette opens on October 20. I love her beautiful, subtle, stylish films that really capture... people. She leaves enough breathing room in all her movies for the audience to think and feel and add their own unique layer of understanding to the film. It's quite a talent and I fucking hate all the old bastards who always compare her to her father. The girl has an incredible talent (and taste) and fuck anyone who tries to keep her down.

I read a really nice article about her in Vanity Fair - about how she is on set and what sort of things inspire her (like books, music, photography) and it was really inspiring. Sure she had all the advantages like her famous father and growing up in the Coppola household where she grew up with all kinds of pop-culture legends like Andy Warhol and she's like related to have of Hollywood... but lots of people grow up with those kinds of advantages and 99% of them never amount to anything noteworthy. The main message of the article was that Coppola's success is her ability to be herself and she creates her work as an extension of herself, and that is the kind of artist I want to be.

They decided to take my grandma off her medication now because they're not really doing anything for her. I just don't know how I feel about them just giving up on her - of course it's not "just giving up" - they must have been told by doctors that there's not much they can do for her and any further poking and prodding would just make her weaker and more uncomfortable. At least that's what they keep telling me (and themselves). My mom made me go to Chinatown with my aunt Josephine yesterday to find a nice shirt for them to bury my grandmother in. It was weird because my aunt josephine started trying on some of the shirts and it was just like "Whaaa?! Why are you wearing your almost-dead mother's coffin shirt???" and then I started thinking about what I should buy my mother for her coffin outfit and then it was just like "NO" and I didn't think about it anymore. But still, it was a weird day and I went home and watched The Family Stone and cried because the film was so bad.

Last time I went back to Hong Kong, I took a trip to Beijing with my dad where I bought authentic Chinese garb (a dress for me, a shirt for my mom and my then-boyfriend), but the shirt I bought my mom didn't fit. She was really pissed off - she accused me for not having even tried it on (which I didn't) and then she gave it to my aunt Josephine who is too modest to wear anything that theatrical, so the shirt has remained un-worn for 3 years now. Well, it was decided yesterday that it would be my grandma's coffin shirt. I guess it's nice that I got to (unwittingly) choose her coffin shirt, but still... how happy can I really be of something like that?

Adventures in Advertising

2006-08-23T13:42:00.000-07:00

Last week, we had a company field trip that started off as a scavenger hunt in downtown Toronto. I tackled the Queen Street strip with my team mate, Steve, who lives in St. Catherines or something - somewhere far away - and I got to introduce him to several Toronto hot-spots like The Condom Shack and Hooters. Unfortunately, it was really fucking hot that day, so I chose not to post any of my pictures from the scavenger hunt because I just looked like crap.

Afterward, we all boarded the S.S. Minnow (MIN_O!!!) where we were forced into singing the theme song to Guilligan's Island. This was probably the low point of day.

We had lunch on the boat while we drifted along on Lake Ontario. I was really pooped from the whole morning of running around (even in my cherry Keds, my feet blistered) so I was super cereal (thuper theareal, ref: South Park) that afternoon. See me here with my manager, Adam. Adam is a superstar account manager - only 25 years old, practically running our account by himself, and he just bought his SECOND house. I'd consider myself lucky if I had my own place by 25. But Adam's married. Things are different for married people.

This is my team. On the S.S. MINO, we had to build an invention for the island. Our fearless creative director, Josh, came up with the igenious idea of building a boat for a dozen parachute men. Needless to say, we didn't win the prize for having the best invention. We lost to some Nazi squirrel ultimate fighting arena. I must say, though, the pitch for it was amazing.

I used to think working at Python was fun with their X-Rated Christmas parties, but this summer, I've gone to three company parties! And each time, I find myself more comfortable and more grateful for where I was fortunate enough to work on my internship. I've met a lot of really cool people. People like Laura, who used to live in New Zealand and is one of the coolest chicks I have ever met in my life. She taught me how to use the cappuccino machine downstairs, for which I am eternally grateful.

Nothing like caffein (and any other type of addictive substance) to draw people together. The skinny guy in the middle down here is Nick, one of our resident copywriters. He makes an amazing cappuccino. He is always trying to steal ths squish toys I have decorated my cubicle with.

Besides being social and everything, I got an amazing chance to enjoy Toronto from afar. The breeze on the lake and the sun warming my skin is one of my favourite memories of the day. With all the craziness going on right now (my lack of permanent employment, my grandmother being very sick, my closet overflowing, &c.), I drank in the simple pleasure of being on a boat cruise on a beautiful August day.

Afterward, we all took cabs to the Dock's patio where everyone got even more drunk (except me). This was probably the MOST memorable part of the day, in fact, one of the MOST memorable part of my life (perhaps) because Nick and Barbara (see pic below) convinced me, Michael (chief creative director) and Jeff (the other intern) to try the bungie swing thing, where they strap you on to a bungie chord, crank you up like five stories and you pull a chord and swing downdowndown and upupup screaming so loud that your screams actually drown out the other voices also screaming beside you! I've always wanted to try it, but it costs $75 at Wonderland (it's probably taller there). At the Docks, it only cost $25 - $20 extra if you want to go again - which we did! I loved it. The feeling struck deeply with my strange long-standing facination with death, mortality and the afterlife. I don't know if I'll ever go sky diving (5 stories is NOTHING compared to say a couple thousand feet in the air off a moving aircraft!), but I'm definately more open to the idea of bungie jumping and zip lining.

This was the first time I'd ever gone anywhere with a bunch of people where 1/4 of us actually went on the bungie swing. I discovered a newfound respect for my co-workers, people who like me seek out new and stimulating experiences wherever they may find us.

And it is for this reason, I have decided to extend my internship and hopefully find a full-time position in October. I figure... I'm new to the industry, I might as well stay where I'm learning with people I like and respect, and who like and respect me (I hope).

I know this was a work post, but I owed you guys some pictures at least since I haven't been posting regularly. Don't get too excited, but I've been working on two very special drawings, which I hope to finish and post before September. Stay tuned...

If I hide my neuroses between photographs, maybe no one will notice!

2006-07-24T14:00:00.000-07:00

I think it started yesterday morning. I woke up and found that the resume that I was updating to send to some job prospects had been closed without saving. I'm not blaming Ryan, he said he didn't close the program. I should've saved it before I got off the computer. But anyway, I think it was at that very moment, I felt something change in the air. The vibes were off.

Contrastingly, the night before had been Fabulous. I was in high spirits, I rocked out to back-to-back Yeah Yeah Yeah albums and then Magneta Lane. I entertained fantasies of becoming rich and successful and fabulous. Then Kellie came over with brilliant news of her new up-and-coming job, and we went out for dinner with Leann and took a midnight bicycle adventure down by the lake where there was a lantern festival and we almost road right off the unfinished boardwalk.

So the next morning, I just felt shitty. The shittiness continued into the evening when I had committed myself to fixing up my resumes and sending off three different coverletters, but I ended up smoking myself into a coma and feeling quite sorry for myself.

I just don't think I'm ready to leave where I am. I had just started feeling good at my internship, getting to know some people better, and feeling like maybe I could start being myself finally. And now, thinking about applying to different jobs and going to interviews makes it difficult to concentrate at work. I'm afraid to commit myself because I don't know how long I'm going to be here.

Being an intern is such a mind-boggling status. You're there to learn, but not to commit. You're there to help, but on anything long-term. Maybe I'm just not cut out to be an intern. I can't do things half-way. When I do things half-way, I feel like an asshole, and worse, I feel like everyone knows I'm being an asshole. I never did co-op at school, I've only ever worked in a swim-or-sink environment and I desperately want to swim here, but I'm afraid I'm going to get swooped up out of the bowl at any second.

I had two very real, very possible job opportunities that I have no doubt lost because I've sat on it for too long. I don't want to be the girl who sends her resume in late. Had I been able to send the resume yesterday morning as I had planned because as of Monday night, my resume had been updated, I would probably (hopefully) be hearing back from them next week. But some mysterious force had fucked me up neurotically. I let myself choke. I let myself feel sorry for myself.

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I'm praying that they offer me a job here. To be quite honest, I don't really want to go anywhere else. At least not at this point. There is still too much I haven't learned. There is too much I haven't yet sunk my teeth into. I don't want to start at a new entry level position where I'd have to relearn everything all over again, or worse, have to take on even more redundant tasks as most entry level positions require. Here, I've already proven myself worthy of more. There's no where to go but up. Anywhere else, I'd be back at the bottom rung.

Garçon means Boy

2006-07-10T12:34:00.000-07:00

I've been feeling very literary. I finished Bonjour Tristesse which was a beautiful little novel - a bit melodramatic emo-teen, but Françoise Sagan wrote it when she was only 18 and she was a lot smarter than I was at that age. Mostly, I bought it because I love the way the French language flows - even in translation. The way their phrase their ideas is always so lyrical, subtle and artful. To master the French language would be a true accomplishment and is on my list of things to-do. Even in high school, though I hated poetry in English, I used to enjoy writing poems in French. I also discovered that I got stage-fright in French, which doesn't happen when I'm speaking English.

Adieu tristesse
Bounjour tristesse
Tu es inscrite dans les lignes du plaford
Tu es inscrite dans les yeux que j'aime
Car les lèvres les plus pauvres te dénoncent
Par un sourire
Bonjour tristesse
Amour des corps aimables
Puissance de l'amour
Dont l'amabilité surgit
Comme un monstre sans corps
Tête désappointée
Tristesse beau visage

- P. Eluard (La vie immédiate)

Now I'm reading Oh, the Glory of It All by Sean Wilsey, the editor-at-large of McSweeney's, which is my most favourite indie publishing houses in the universe. For those of you who are not familiar with McSweeney's, do yourself a favour and buy yourself a copy of Believer magazine, or check out any of their list of writers including Dave Eggers, one of my most favourite writers of all time.

It is so much easier to consume creativity than pursue it. Besides adding some psychedelic swirls to my monster painting, I haven't touched it at all. It's just too intimidating. Drawing is easier, but I'm too lazy to do even that. So I hide behind my novels and read about inspiring Other People who achieve great wonderous things in their lives while I waste away my youth in front of the television screen.

Oh, I'm being melodramatic again. I do lots of fun young stuff. I almost threw my back out at the Yonge Street Festival yesterday where I got to see the Meligorve Band for free. I screamed and danced even though no one else was quite That into it. Except for this group of chubby 12 year old girls in the front (sigh). My enthusiasm was well rewarded when the drummer sent his drumstick flying into the crowd and I nearly caught it. Ryan caught it for me because he's taller. I got it signed by the drummer behind the stage and I was giddy for about half an hour until I remembered how fucking burnt-out I was from the 1.5 hour drive home at 3 a.m. last night from Barrie.

An example of viral marketing.

2006-07-05T09:39:00.001-07:00

I am Bold, Grown-up Cheese.

I'm a bold, big city person. Museums, theater, fine dining and cool shops... I can even appreciate performance art. I've got grown-up tastes but I'm not stuffy or stiff. I know how to have fun and I'm just as comfortable at a white linen-laid table as I am at the hot dog cart. I've got style. An individualist who isn't afraid to show my true colors or to stand out in a crowd.

Bittersweet Symphony

2006-07-04T14:36:00.000-07:00

Graduation was a lot of fun considering how long the ceremony was - luckily I went to college, so we only had maybe 1,000 grads from only 5 faculties, but university convocations can go on for days with thousands of robed monkeys waiting around to get a fake diploma. Maybe only my school did this, but the diploma they gave us on stage was a fake - we had to trade in our robe in order get our actual diploma, as if we were going to run off with them. My mom already got the real diploma framed.

I wore the cutest vintage dress from Exile in Kensington ($30 + $25 alterations). When I got up on stage, some of the more fashion savvy teachers complimented me, which was nice and I got lots of hugs from my old teachers. It's so weird that some of them used to intimidate me. Nothing like a little time and perspective to show us how most teachers are full of shit. But good shit - well-meaning shit.

Later that night, I went out with Ryan, Jonathan, Ashley and Jen for celebratory drinks. Enjoying cheap drinks at the Gladstone, Ashley and I did a deafening rendition of Ain't No Mountain High Enough, after which a 60 year old lady wearing a sequinced vest came up to me to compliment my dress.

After eight rounds of beer (rum and coke for Ash) and two rounds of vodka shots, we were all acting a little crazy (except I was sober, but I'm used to being crazy all the time) so we went through McDonald's drive-in (defying our diets) and played Texas Hold-em til 3 a.m. while Scarface was on in the background. Ashley was kicking all our asses except in the final rounds when Ryan beat her three times in a row all on the river.

This picture is the perfect snapshot of what Ryan and my relationship is all about!

Pictures from Linda's Wedding

2006-06-27T11:56:00.000-07:00

I'm not photogenic.

Which part of the human body is featured on the front cover?

2006-06-27T08:47:00.000-07:00

One of the best books I've read in a while. The writing style is impeccable - full of interesting scientific insight applied to everyday social occurances. It's not the kind of story you can rush through, but it leads you on the painfully slow process of human decay with a subtle twist of irony so artfully drawn out by this talented French writer/poet.

I'm no book critic, but as a fellow avid reader, I found that though it was slow paced, it was such a facinating tale, I actually read it to the very end. Perhaps it was just morbid curiosity that kept me going because the characters were not loveable or even relatable, they were perverse, a little evil, and mostly pathetic, but I wanted to know if there would be a point. And there was! There really really was! And WHAT a point! I'm still reeling from the balls on this guy... the kind of prophetic stuff dreams are made of.

Now that I'm finished it though, I need something else to read. Any suggestions?

SCHOOL SUX

2006-06-14T11:08:00.000-07:00

I feel like a complete moron. And I share this with you, blog, because if I sit here with it brewing inside me, I'm going to start crying (again) and I'll be embarrassed because it's not so bad, and I'm really more upset with myself for being so retarded.

Basically, my school called me today to tell me that I can't graduate because I took the wrong gen ed course in fourth semester. I should have taken an English course, but instead, I took Myths, Dreams and Consciousness, which is a cultural course.

I honestly had no idea that... I thought I had to take six gen eds to graduate, that's what everyone was saying, so I took whatever I wanted. I already got my graduation picture taken and my mom's boyfriend is coming in from New York to attend the convocation. It's more embarrassing than anything.

I honestly don't care whether or not I get that diploma because I know I graduated and I'll put it in my résumé regardless, but I hate disappointing my mom. Again! All she's ever wanted was to see me graduate a post-secondary institution. Sure she'd prefer it were a university, but she'll settle for college if she has to. I'm just so angry that this stupid system is going to rob her of even that.

I'm going to fight this... but in previous experiences with fighting soul-less systems, I know that there's only a slim chance that they'll make an exception for me. What sucks is that I paid for this so-called education. What sucks is that my GPA is 3.8. What sucks is school. SCHOOL SUX.

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY BLOG

2006-06-07T20:31:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I've been blogging for over a year! To make up for my tardiness, I've blogged THREE times today. That's special.

Great big ole hairy armpit to the lot of ye!

non-Sense;

2006-06-07T19:59:00.000-07:00

I was late getting to class (cuz i can never find my art stuff when i actually need it) and the class was full. i kind of knocked on the door and they pretty much opened and closed the door in my face. fucking rude cunts. i admit being late is one of my worst qualities, but they don't even know me!

oh well.

I ended up painting just to spite them. I've been playing around with an idea for awhil, wanted to paint this little one eyed monster (no, it's not a penis) I've been doodling since high school. always used black ink though, and wasn't sure what colour he'd be in real life. turn's out he's purple. but that's just for now. i think i need to buy paint.

The reason why I was late was mostly because I went shoe shopping. Yes, I went to the Eaton Centre because good shoes are too expensive. I ended up at ICON where I got these for $80. My other choices were all $100+. Were shoes always this expensive?

I'm sure there'll be lots of pictures from the wedding. Everyone from Ryan's office is invited so I think it'll be a lot of fun. I miss working for a fun company, although advertising isn't that bad (not like a bank and doctors are worse). But there's a certain freedom you get from being in porn that's just not there anywhere else in this civilization.

This is me breaking in my new shoes while smoking a post-creative jaab. That's my new word for it. The "j" is pronounced like in Sveden. Ja!

Peaches you dirty little whore!

Everybody makes their own fun. If you don't make it yourself, it isn't fun. It's entertainment.

2006-06-07T09:54:00.000-07:00

I've been putting off posting because I did a drawing over the weekend and I wanted to post it, but I keep forgetting to upload the image from hoem and I tend to do most of my posts from work now, so it just keeps getting forgotten and forgotten...

Well, fuck that, I'll post it when I remember.

I started doing The Artist's Way again because I've been so depressed and for some reason, this book really helps. I think it's because my life is so completely out of my control - always waiting for someone else to tell me what to do, waiting for the summer to end, waiting to do real job interviews - and it frustrates me and turns me into a bit of a hateful old blob. But when I'm working on The Artist's Way, I can focus on something I CAN control - my creativity. When I'm focused on being creative, everything else seems less bad. And I find I'm overall more aware of my surroudings and other people, which helps my social awkwardness.

I must sound so crazy with all my spiritual self-help books. But between The Artist's Way and The Art of Happiness, I hope to find some inner peace. I was a really calm, zen-like kid growing up, and shit didn't hit the fan til I was 16 up til around 20. Almost like I woke up one morning with hormones raging and life was just one big drama. Everything from cheating on too many boys, morning-after pills, clubs, drugs (just a little) or screaming fights with my mom... in retrospect, it all feels like a bad dream.

Even when I met Ryan, I was quite different then than I am now. I was modelling for Miss Behav'N then and still extremely dramatic. We used to have fights where I would run off for hours and walk around Parkdale at night fuming over some minor misunderstanding.

In many ways, Ryan saved me from what could have been years and years of meldramatic crazy sexploitative single life. Oh the trouble I could have gotten into... Chuckle. Might've made for a more interesting blog. Instead now I'm all into being a well-balanced functioning human being and my biggest complaint is about being bored at work.

Tonight, Datura (hopefully) and I are going shoe shopping because there's a wedding this Saturday - an Italian-Portuguese wedding - and I need some pretty dancing shoes! Afterwards, we're going to hit up a $7 life drawing class at The Gladstone. There's always something fun going on at the Gladstone like on Sundays, they have Open Mike Night in the Fishtank and Ryan wants to start doing some poetry reading.

I'm not so much into poetry, but maybe I'll write a good monologue or something. Often, I write poetry that goes with my drawings, but they always sound lame. Everything I write sounds lame to me. Even this blog! Which is why I'm always always grateful for the few kind people who continue to read it.

2006-06-02T12:47:00.000-07:00

Ryan found me Thom Yorke's solo album. I've only heard the first couple of songs on the way to work, and it was pretty boring, but I just haven't had time to really get in to it. Things have been pretty crazy at work and in real life. Besides getting busted for blogging about my office (see post below), I'm also going through lots of internal turmoil. Ryan said I was talking in my sleep two nights ago. That creeps me out more than anything. What's going through this little round head of mine? What could be so mind-consuming that it manifests in my dreams? I don't remember. But I can feel the anger burning inside, and at what or at whom I cannot figure.

I've started spending a lot of time in Trinity Bellwoods after work. It's a really nice place to relax and listen to music and write and read. Nothing prepared me for how depressing being an intern can be. First off, it doesn't feel like you belong anywhere. You don't really have to work with anyone except your immediate manager. You have no credibility and no money. And you have to work hard anyway. The only things that get me through the day are the occasional Starbucks coffee, a giant bottle of elderflower greenbottle, and Trinity.

But I've been complaining about limbo for a long time. I wasn't satisfied as a student and I'm not satisfied as an intern. Maybe I'm just a malcontent? I hope not because I spent $40 on the Art of Happiness, and if I'm actually a malcontent, then all the spirituality in the world wouldn't be able to help me.

I think I just need to keep doing things that make myself happy. Stop being so sleepy. Stop worrying about what everyone else is doing. Ryan is trying to become a beefcake, and I told him he has to start obsessing about himself. Fall in love with himself a little. Maybe I need to do that too? It's not that either of us suffer from self-deprevation, but we both get caught up in each others shit because we're living in it all the time. It's no wonder we spend so many evenings watching television together, not talking because it's always the same bullshit every day.

I need to stop smoking the green. I've been saying this for a month now, and I've been semi-successful. I've definately cut down a lot. But I'm still sleepy all the time! That probably has more to do with my iron deficiency than my drug habit.

I love this drawing of Thom. He looks like how I feel inside.

BUSTED!

2006-06-01T14:05:00.000-07:00

When I came in from lunch, Adam told me to re-sign my internship and confidentiality agreement again because they had disappeared. I didn't think twice about it, although I did read over the confidentiality component again to make sure my other blog did not infringe any of the stipulations.

I don't know if it was just a coincidence because Adam certainly hasn't said anything, but later in the day, the general manager asked me to step aside with him for a chat. Not knowing what it was about, I brought my notebook and pen. It turned out that the legal department of the agency had just initiated a web-wide scan of the Internet, which included blogs, and they came across a very interesting, insightful and brilliantly written blog about being an unpaid intern at "this agency". (Now I'm even afraid to write the name in my own blog! I will NOT however start going back and editing out past references because that's just too much work, and I honestly doubt I've said anything so incriminating.)

Anyway, so he explains to me about how the agency is a public company and that they have to protect their business and their clients, and I felt so foolish! He was super nice (he always is), but all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and quit the advertising industry forever. I wondered how many people knew and what they thought. Most of all, I wondered if they went to see the blog?!

I'm not completely stupid, of course it crossed my mind that including the name of the agency and its clients in the blog was risky. But having a background in law and having read the confidentiality agreement (EVERYONE should read ANYTHING they sign their name to), I knew that I was free to write about anything that is public knowledge. My agency and who their clients are is public knowledge. As long as I didn't write about any of the creative or projects or ideas they've been working on, I thought it'd be ok. I was very careful that I stuck to writing about my feelings and opinions about what I did rather than what it was that I've been doing itself.

Even still, I knew the risk was there. But what I wanted was the KEYWORDS. I wanted to have the agency name and the clients in my blog because I thought that they might help drive more traffic into the site. Unlike this blog where it's completely personal, The Bottom Rung is a blog that could help other kids in this industry. I'm proud that I created it and I created with the best intentions.

The giant hand of Big Brother doesn't scare me, though. I've already taken the agency name and the clients out of the blog, and the worst that could happen is that I lose my internship. That would indeed be devestating, but I don't think it will come to that. I had written only good things about my agency, about the creativity and the atmosphere. But like all big corporations, they're afraid of the voice of the little people. Supressing the ones closest to them is about as much control they can get in this world wide web of ours.

On the bright side, the traffic to my site is up to 25 and half of them came from my company!

Everytime I feel like Alice.

2006-05-30T14:20:00.000-07:00

I decided to change my blog a little bit after I added some bloggity tools to The Bottom Rung. Probably inspired by The Grrl and her creative blogging, I now feel like I should put a little more efford into my blog and maybe more people will want to read it? I don't know. But changing the title and description makes me feel better.

My next step is to design a banner for both blogs. I'm not sure if I'll keep Everytime I feel like Alice because I don't want people to think my name IS Alice... The line came from a very intimate psychedelic story I wrote two years ago and there are many lines in the story that echo from within like: my body below, my spirit rises. These semi-coherent ramblings probably have no affect on anyone else except myself. But Everytime I feel like Alice always makes me feel like I'm falling spiralling down a deep hole (a rabbit hole as it may be).

Ever fall asleep on mushrooms?

Anyway, Datura is coming to visit tonight and I look forward to a nice reunion with her because I haven't seen her for so long. Since she has been neglecting her blog, I no longer feel bad for writing about her goings-on.

She has been spending a LOT of time Barrie. Personally, I think it's unhealthy for anyone to spend that much time in a place like Barrie, especially a spiritual artsy fart like Datura, but she is seeing a Boy there and liking it, so I guess we can let it slide for a little wee bit. Other than that the job hunt continues as she tries to infiltrate the Jewish community with her artistic abilities (ask her about it yourself).

Never trust a girl with a teacup chihuahua.

2006-05-28T17:30:00.000-07:00

This is the first weekend back to normal here in Parkdale. Reilly has gone home to Calgary which is no doubt feeling some of the NHL excitement of the Oiler's making it to the finals. I feel no rivalry between Canadian teams and I'm proud that they're up for the Stanley Cup.

Wow, I can't believe I just blogged about hockey.

Anyway, I had one of the longest, un-interrupted, most facinating, emotional and vibiest conversations I've ever had on Friday. I visited The Grrl at her house in Little Italy and I got to meet the illustrious and super fucking adorable Crispin. She is lovely and more than I can describe, and I think we're all very lucky to have her in our lives whether it's her in the flesh or her colourful blog.

I don't have a scanner so I took pictures of those last week, but I couldn't find my USB cable so I couldn't upload them faster. I'm a portrait artist, but I really really really want to do other stuff. I just can't help that I love drawing people. It's easy for me. Esthero was the most recent one and one of my very few colour portraits because I'm terrified of colour.

But on Saturday, my mom gave me something that's sparked some inspiration in me and go ahead and laugh, but I'm seriously going to give this a try. When I first started to draw seriously, I drew Sailor Moon. This was when I was 9 years old, Sailor Moon was everywhere in Hong Kong, and I got swept up in the fervor (SM didn't come to North America til a few years later and they never got the translation right so it ended up being a fucking joke and I never watched it here).

Anyway, my mom found a whole box of Sailor Moon cards at a garage sale and bought it for me because I had given my collection away to my friend Lydia's little sister years ago. I was going through them and this collection is way better than the one I had.

So on Saturday night, I spent the entire evening drinking Coke Blak with Ryan and sorting my Sailor Moon cards. Coke Blak, btw, isn't available in Canada yet so we had to order it off eBay, and it is fucking delicious. It tastes like coffee+coke, which may be difficult to imagine right now, but if you ever get the chance to try it, I think any coffee lover would enjoy it. I wish I had more! I can't say that it made me feel terribly different (unlike Red Bull that makes me feel like I'm a cocaine), but I definately stayed up later than I should have considering I hadn't slept til 3:30 the night before.

I sorted them into five different piles: First Generation, Generic, Matt, Special Edition and Cartoon-y. I'm not an anal-retentive neat freak or anything, but I love organizing my stuff. My bookshelf is alphabetical and categorized and now so are my Sailor Moon Cards. First Generation sailor moon cards were based on the original drawings in the comic book (I have five Chinese translated copies, but I can't read them!), which look like they were done in pencil, black ink and paint rather than the generic animé style that you see on TV. The drawings are a lot more detailed and delicate and the colours softer and more vibrant.

I've always been a big fan of Japanese design and these old-school Sailor Moon cards really inspired me. So, I've decided that I'm going to try to use one of these cards as a guide in my next painting. My last painting was a disaster, but I think using a Sailor Moon will help make my next attempt more comfortable.

My NEW Blog

2006-05-25T15:21:00.000-07:00

Yes, I've created a new blog. This new one will be where I can bitch about work and shit, and it's also geared towards advertising kids who are trying to play with the big boys (like me!). I'd encourage all (3) of you to check it out and post comments and help keep the ball rolling in there - show em how it's done! Although I will link that blog to this blog, I won't be linking it vice versa because a girl's gotta have some privacy right? In any case... it's a new project, and hopefully it will keep me distracted from my depressing life as an unpaid intern.

Bitches tryin' to cheat me!

2006-05-24T14:03:00.000-07:00

I took Reilly to Dufflet yesterday - a very Torontonian trendy thing to do - mostly because I was craving chocolate cupcake. Unfortunately, we walked past the tiny storefront and upon arrival, two Queen Street Day-Time Urbanites (you know the kind with their stiff pastel skirts and and tiny cardigan sweater and tiny round-toed flats - basically both wearing the same outfit in different colours) were in front of me buying three birthday cakes.

True to Sex-in-the-City tradition, they wanted to have a sweet indulgence and was trying to choose a snack. One of them pointed to the cupcake and I quickly said, "Oh, that's the one I want."

OK, correct me if I'm wrong, but according to the International Covenance of Dibs, WAS THAT NOT DIBS?

Anyway, the fat bitches bought it (undoubtedly out of spite) and ate it outside on Dufflet's only outdoor table (where we ALSO wanted to sit). Reilly and I settled for a chocolate cheesecake square and a really delicious lemon cream tart, and we sat at the diner bar at the window, sitting directly behind those fat bitches while they ate my chocolate cupcake.

They weren't actually fat, but I hope that cupcake goes directly to their theighs.

Only after the fact did Reilly come up with the brilliant idea that I should have licked the cupcake. I asked the boy behind the counter if he would've kicked me out for that and he said no, it would've been "AWESOME". I totally agree, and will keep that tactic in mind for the future. Stupid fat bitches stole my cupcake!

Min_o's Guide to Whatever

2006-05-23T13:35:00.000-07:00

What a glorious four-day weekend that ended in a big haze of smoke that left me still a little dizzy in the morning on the streetcar ride to work. I don't usually frown, but I could feel the sides of my face succumbing to gravity this morning as I made my way downtown. Late. Again.

Reilly arrived on Thursday night and I got to pick him up at the airport with a sign: jesus WITH AN H. If I were a better prankster, I would've just written: JESUS, but instead, I was worried about insulting all those wholesome looking old Calgarians on CanWest 108 so I kept the sign folded til I spotted Reilly's riot of red curls and I held the sign up for all of 2 seconds, long enough for him to register, but not long enough for anyone else to read it. I'm a fucking pussy.

I also dotted the lower-case J with a heart to keep it light-hearted.

I hadn't planned anything special for Reilly's arrival as I did not know his conference schedule. He's in town for a psychiatric conference at the convention centre. The only one he attended thus far was on hypnosis on Saturday, but he didn't actually learn how to hypnotize anyone, only how to clinically check a person's level of susceptance. I think I just made that word up.

Datura and our friends from Beeton, Wes and Amanda came down to meet Reilly and we saw The Ghost is Dancing at the Drake Underground. They opened but were so obviously better than The Coast and Tokyo Police Club who bored us to death. They were lucky to have The Ghost is Dancing open for them because they can pump up any crowd. This time, instead of balloon hats, they wore tinfoil hats, arm bands and leg warmers, which were on sale at the merch stand for free or best offer. To summarize the night, which was too hilarious and in-the-moment to recount, here are some key words: YOU ARE POWER and lesbian sex in the Pizza Pizza washroom. Yes, just another trendy night in Parkdale. There sure are a lot of platinum dyed cougars at the Drake upstairs.

Sunday, Ryan and I whipped up some William Sonoma style French toast that tasted more like bread pudding, and while Datura went back to Newmarket, Reilly, Ryan and I took advantage of our "first" visit to the YMCA by swimming and playing monkey-in-the-middle (or as they call it in Calgary - PIG-in-the-middle). I tried to sit in the dirty whirlpool, but the angry looking older Greek woman who came in made me uncomfortable so I went to sit in the sauna with two African women who spoke a language I didn't understand. It's been a long time since I've been in a sauna, but I found it really difficult to relax because it's like your skin's going to melt and your head's going to explode and your lungs are going to burst all at the same time. I tried to do some yoga-style breathing and posturing, but to no avail. We then played some basketball, but I realised that my basketball skills have not progressed past grade 10 gym, and I dribble like a girl.

On Victoria Day, we decided to take Reilly to see Niagara Falls, just because... meh. Nothing else to do! If the weather was nicer, we wanted to take him up north somewhere like Jackson's Point for a picnic, but it wasn't worth the drive in the miserable weather. Highlights of Niagara Falls: Hamilton IS the asshole of Ontario, funnel cake, and all-you-can-eat buffet. We were back in the city well before dark, and missed the fireworks because the boys wanted to watch the end of the hockey game. I was really disappointed because I had rolled a celebratory hash joint as a farewell salute to my winter dopey days, and instead we had to smoke it in the dark while looking into the black lake below. Ryan discovered a very very masonic fountain at Exhibition Place - one that most people would overlook due to its tackiness and almost random super-obvious symbolism: a winged angel on top of a sphere held up by a pyrmid of sphinx.

Hurrah for national holidays! Thank god I don't work retail! Too bad I don't make any money at all!

This side of insanity,

2006-05-12T14:55:00.001-07:00

There was an all-staff luncheon yesterday where they served us cold Chinese egg noodles (the yellow kind) with tiny pieces of chicken and one very tiny spring roll in a white paper box (very trendy in big corporations). And one big can of Coca-cola. I think Coke may be one of our clients? I don't know, but I'm drinking more coke than I have since high school. It's giving me really bad gas, but I can't fart in my cubicle because I share the space with Jeff, the other intern. Jeff and I get along because Jeff isn't done school yet which means he is not in competition with me. Yet. I'm a lot less shy here at Cossette than at First Light because I can't really afford to be shy anymore. I NEED a job after this because right now, my mommy's helping me with expenses, but I can only accept that for so long. I even joined the National Advertising Benevolent Society (NABS) today as a volunteer not necessarily because I care about all the over-worked and out-of-work art directors and copywriters out there, but mostly because I've embraced the idea of networking.

Of course, that probably gives you the impression that I'm some kind of smooth operatahhh, but I'm actually still super shy. I don't think I'll ever stop being completely shy, except maybe one day when I'm so fucking successful and important that I won't give a fuck anymore, but even then there are always people more beautiful or more successful who will make me feel like a little field mouse again.

I am reading The Art of Happiness by Dr. Howard C. Cutler and based on the teachings of the Dalai Lama. These are the four basic principles:

1.	The purpose of life is happiness.
2.	Happiness is determined more by the state of one’s mind than by one’s external conditions, circumstances, or events—at least once one’s basic survival needs are met.
3.	Happiness can be achieved through the systematic training of our hearts and minds, through reshaping our attitudes and outlook.
4.	The key to happiness is in our own hands.

I know the skeptics out wouldn't buy this for a second, but in my limited experience with these such self-help-ish books, it's up to you to take what you want from it. With The Artist's Way, I found I became a much more open and creative person, willing to take on any creative task without the usual fear and anxiety I used to. With the Art of Happiness, I'm starting to become more open with people by being able to identify with people based on what we have in common rather than focusing on what makes the other person different. This is why I'm less shy these days. For some people, meeting new people and creating new relationships is easy, but for some like me, it's not. And if I need a goddamn Dalai-Lama-approved handbook to help me, then fuck it, what have I got to lose?

To top off my spiritual highs (and lows - yes, there are still lows), I've been trying to meet up with The Grrl. We have tentative plans to be very serious together. Hopefully we will find time to hang out and I'll finally get to meet Crispin!

Cubicle Depression

2006-05-02T11:14:00.000-07:00

Fortunately, I haven't been asked to pick up lunch or serve coffee - yet. But working at an advertising agency - at least this agency - is not as glamorous as I imagined. But I do have my own desk, phone and computer. I have not wasted any time in personalizing my voicemail message, getting a new wallpaper for my desktop, and placing my Little Penguin buddy on top of my computer. This is the first time I've ever been given my own personal workspace that I don't have to share with other people. But I am right next to the photocopier, so I get to see all the creatives when they pick up their work. I haven't really talked to anyone yet, but I have four months so I'm in no hurry to throw myself at anyone.

So far, I've been writing reports. I pass the time by constantly cleaning my e-mail box or going to the washroom. I'm starting to wish I smoked. Again.

They keep sending me these marketing/advertising news e-mails and our agency is never mentioned! They praise Ogilvy & Mathers, John St., DDB, Saatchi & Saatchi, but I haven't heard anything about my agency yet. And we're supposed to be the number one agency in Canada. Perhaps we're so big that we're slaves to our big-headed clients like GM, McDonald's, and General Mills. I met a girl the other day whose entire cubicle looked like the cereal aisle of a grocery store.

I'm fucking bored. Anyone got a cigarette?

City lights, my dear...

2006-04-10T11:15:00.001-07:00

I've been waiting for Magneta Lane to come out with a full album for over a year! I discovered them on a Vice DVD last spring - their low-budget video for their first single, The Constant Lover. Now, Magneta Lane is not for everyone! Keep in mind that I have a weakness for chick bands and the lead singer, Lexie's voice is sublimely deep and rich - a quality that even the better produced new album cannot quite capture.

I saw them for the first time at the Horseshoe on Thursday - $10 for 40 minutes of pure dancy chick rock'n'roll! They were poised and had that confident fuck-you attitude that all female rock artists should strive to perfect. In the case of Magneta Lane, I think they were born like that.

Oh I'm so in love with them! I've listened to their new album twice already and was not too impressed with the first half because they sound a little overproduced - Lexie's beautiful voice gets lost in the layers and distortions, but there are a couple of tracks near the end that stays true to the raw beauty of their first EP. Wow! I sound like a music geek! They're not perfect though, because their lyrics are still pretty weak - reflecting their age (them being around my age and me being only 22 years old). But they have so much talent and potential! I could not imagine it in myself, though song-writing is definately on my list of things To-Do.

Speaking of things To-Do, check out this site. I only have one Thing on my list right now (painting), but when I have more time (i.e. when school is finally fucking finished), I'll do more writing of lists and blogging of ideas. I miss being creative.

City lights, my dear...

2006-04-10T11:15:00.000-07:00

Someone's gonna get the busy signal.

2006-03-31T13:36:00.000-08:00

This Picture

First Light is offering students free hi-res photographs from their royalty-free collections, but since I'm not a designer, I'm going to use my free pics on my bloggity blog, which is looking rather dull compared to my incredibly creative blog friends.

Life of an Intern

Being an intern feels so cliché. I don't have a place to sit, so I have to sit wherever someone is away. I have to make chit-chat with everyone : "So, what do you study? Blah blah blah..." And I get to do the most mundane tasks like e-mail 200 individual people with an attached picture of them at an awards show last night. This is what they mean by paying your dues.

Cossette said they were going to get back to me about the summer internship today, but my contact, Eric, wrote me to tell me they've been too busy and everything is still up in the air. God, the suspense!!!

V for Vendetta

In other news, V for Vendetta was oh so entertaining, but not for anyone looking for a storyline that runs deep. No, V for Vendetta doesn't have an actual Point, there is virtually no character development (save Natalie Portman's torture and subsequent "freedom"), and all the big explosions have fireworks. What this movie does is inspire a passionate reaction from all its viewers - whether it's a passionate hate because the movie was so over-the-top, or a passionate sympathy for the anarchistic views of the Wachoski Bros. Either way... if you haven't already, go rent it when it comes out. It's fun!

Lord of the Dance

This is a bit of old news, but my mom took Ryan, Datura and I to see Lord of the Dance at Casino Rama two weeks ago. Highlights include:

The Lord wore a diamond studded gold belt that says : LORD OF THE DANCE
A chorus line of highland dancers in their black bras and black stockings, jiggling where girls should never jiggle in public

How do you compete with big tits?

2006-03-30T15:26:00.000-08:00

There's just something about spring that makes me want to wear orange and drink Fresh smoothies and paint and ride my bicycle and do all those wonderful min_o things I've been neglecting all winter. The daytime high hit 14*C this afternoon, and already people are wearing flipflops! But that's to be expected because Torontians LIVE for summer weather and after five whole months of being bundled to our noses, we're all itching to show off some skin.

To catch up on my life thus far - the college strike has ended. The teacher's attempt to improve the quality of our education by walking out for three weeks in fourth semester was resolved by binding arbitration - the mediator basically told the teachers to GO. BACK. TO WORK. FUCKERS. And that was the end of that political battle.

So besides a couple of mandatory dates when I have to go back to school to hand in stuff, write tests, and do presentations, I'm pretty much free! I've been interning at First Light, a stock photography company (comme GettyImages, Corbis, Veer, etc.) and I helped them with their industry event last Thursday when I worked on my feet for 14.5 hours.

We had over 500 guests and every major ad agency and production company in Toronto was represented. It was open bar, so everyone was totally wasted, and there were shiatsu masseuses, Bobby Brown make-up artists, and three Virtual Reality games! They had James Bond, Star Wars and a flight simulator. The flight sim was pretty cool, but it took a while to get used to the controls. Star Wars was disappointing because it wasn't in 1st person, although it was cool to use a virtual light sabre. I didn't get a chance to try James Bond, but it was a 1st person shooter, so it was probably pretty good. What's the point of VR if it's not in the first person???

I feel like I've jumped into the advertising industry headfirst! It's great and it's not as scary as I imagined. I'm currently waiting for an internship at Fjord Interactive - Cossette's interactive wing. I have a feeling my work with online porno will come in handy for sealing the deal, but how much can I tell them? Should I confess straight-up that I worked for the pornos, or should I shuffle around the topic? We'll have to wait and see. But my main competition for this spot is against Courtney - a polished, brand-whore with huge tits. How does a poor Chinese girl with scruffy sneakers compete with Channel sunglasses, LV handbags and tits that hang like watermelons off her slender, ass-less frame?

That's about all I've been up to... working for free and starving for a new summer wardrobe. I failed my road test, and I'm not anxious to do it again. I'll spare you the details of that particular pathetic story. Poop.

miew miew went the mitten

2006-03-03T12:26:00.000-08:00

Do I sound lost? I think I must... and there are times when I don't even know who I am anymore. Maybe it's because I'm starting a new cycle in my life - another year - it's my birthday next Wednesday. Is my body preparing me for the future or holding me back? I feel crazy and confused and there ain't a soul who can help me.

A poetic melancholy overwhelms me as I write this, I can't say why. Where am I going with this?

There is a party for me tomorrow... I must put on a smiley face. And I must mean it. I owe it to my friends to be happy that they are here for me. But no one can help me. It's all up to me. That's the scary part.

Wasting time before pilates...

2006-02-20T13:05:00.000-08:00

I don't think it's in my nature to stay ahead of things. Life is too much fun to be doing work ahead of time! I've been hanging out with Datura a lot on the weekends and she's been image consulting me. I bought a suit for my first mock campaign pitch on Thursday which is for the entire Creative Advertising faculty and all the students in our semester. Everyone's a little on edge about it - I'm definately second guessing my strategic abilities.

I'm the "Account Executive" for this project, and as such I've been forced to take on a leadership role amongst my friends. It sucks being the boss of your friends because you have to walk a fine line between friendship and duty. At the same time, I'm learning a lot about organizing people and inspiring them to do the best work possible. And I'm lucky because my group puts up with my sudden bouts of anxiety and is stepping up to help in any way possible.

Today, I got to see a group at their worst where the AE (Sarah McEvil) and the art director (Ali) had a shouting match in the computer commons that ended with Ali screaming "JUST FUCK OFF! FUCK YOU AND FUCK OFF!" over and over again into her face. I think they smoked and made up - cigarettes are such a bonding tool.

I just have to keep reminding myself that this is Just School!!! School has a way of sucking you in and suddenly it's like the world is going to collapse if we fail.

Outside of school, I've been reading a lot lately. I finished re-reading The Electric Koolaid Acid Test which I hadn't read since high-school when I had never tried psychedelic drugs before and most of its cultural references were lost on me. I got the basic idea of the story though which was what got me into the psychedelic scene in the first place. I'm such a hippy sometimes.

I then read The Many Lives and Secret Sorrows of Josephine B., a fiction based on the non-fictional biography of the wife of Neopoleane Buonoparte (Neopolean Bonoparte). I got it at The Westivus party I went to with Ryan and Datura where we dressed up like cowboys and did some mighty Swear Dancin'. The dance moves included: Belly-Buck your bastard! Belly-Buck your whore!

I'm not reading Ann Rand's Anthem which coincides nicely with some recent conversations I've had with my mom and Ryan about communism and the situation in China. My mom pointed out the fact that China has been oppressed and repressed for thousands of years, and it's difficult for Western cultures to understand why the government is so slow in opening up its channels of information.

Already, the government has made leaps and bounds in opening its channels of commerce and development, and they've made significance changes to its human rights. But changing a society can't happen overnight! I'm glad that China is under pressure from all the other countries to change, but consider this: the majority of people in China are uneducated and ignorant of the world. If they're flooded with information about anything without any kind of control, the people will be open to believing anything, whether or not it's true or "right".

I just read an article in the Chinese newspaper yesterday about a bus driver in Sum Jian (I'm not sure if that's how you spell it in English) and he had a disagreement with his employers. As a result, he decided to go on a rampage in his bus down the streets and started crashing into anyone and everyone killing 35 innocent people! Recently, a Chinese immigrant man was arrested for brutally slaughtering his wife and kids in Toronto after an argument, which was so violent that the officers on the scene had to go to therapy. Chinese culture is volatile to say the least. Communism has changed their civilians' view on life and the world.

The civilization in China needs to evolve with time. I can't say I agree with most of what China's doing, but I do see a point to it - even if it seems cruel and oppressive to us. Personally, I'm very worried about China's direction because they have the power to change the world we know and they know it too.

YES!

2006-01-16T13:12:00.000-08:00

I'm trying not to be so lazy and post more often. It's just that the first week of school has been less than interesting, and I've made some New Year's Resolutions I hope to keep:

1. Kick ass in school.

For the past three semesters, I've been dicking around, writing off assignments as too meaningless to take seriously, when really it's been my own insecurities that have kept me from achieving my potential. My greatest fear in life is that I'm not as smart or as talented as I think I am, and it's kept me from doing so many things! But no more! This year, I start anew answering to no one's expectations - not even my own! Or perhaps, ESPECIALLY not my own because I'm my worst critic (as my post-Christmas Party freak-out showed me). What the fuck do *I* know anyway???

2. Get rid of my pimples.

I've been waiting since I was 18 to "grow out" of my acne, and I'm really fucking tired of it. I'm turning 22 in March, and I'm not about to enter my mid-20's looking like a teenaged chocolate addict. I don't know how many of you remember that commercial back in the 90's for this acne medicine where this guy with crazy acne says, "Some people think I eat too many chocolate bars, or that I don't wash my face..." That line has been haunting me since I was 12 when some bastard kid called me Pizza Face. Well, I bought a start-up kit for Proactiv and while I still have great doubts, this is going to be my last and final attempt to rid myself of this affliction and maybe FINALLY my mom will be able to talk about something besides my face.

3. Stay in shape.

Pilates. Breakdancing. Belly dancing. The City Dance Corps on King St. offers all kinds of dance lessons and even though I don't really have money for it, I'm going to keep going because our bodies are the vessels for our mind and body and we have to treat them all equally well.

4. Play piano.

I've already started slacking off. It doesn't help that I only know how to play one song and I don't have any good sheet music to learn more songs from.

The list goes on and on... I'm my own on-going project. Hopefully I'll find a good job when I'm done school to help facilitate all these interests. I wish I knew what I wanted to do so I can start working towards that direction, but I still have no idea.

Anyway, to make up for my lack of posts, I'm putting up two pieces of art I've been working on, which as you know I really never do because I'm shy and you guys are too overwhelmingly more talented than me, but Sweaty Sneaker Toe sent me a beautiful e-mail that has made me feel a bit selfish for not sharing my art with you guys when you're always sharing yours with me.

This one I started a week or two ago when I saw that Sweaty got a new haircut and I saw a picture of her for the first time on her blog.

I started the second one today and I still don't know where it's going yet. Sorry they're blurry. I don't have a scanner.

Anti-Climax

2006-01-04T09:41:00.000-08:00

My snow bush is dead and I can't find my new copy of DUNE: The Battle of Corrin anywhere. The full thrust of winter that we felt so sure was here to stay during the holidays has withered into a miserable grey drizzle and I haven't done anything for the past two - or three days. Let me check what day it is today ... Wednesday. So I've wasted three days sitting at home feeling lathargic and eating Campbell's Soup.

Christmas was awesome as usual. I was fighting off a cold the entire four days (Christmas Eve to Boxing Day - from my mom's house to Ryan's dad's in Barrie). There's something about Christmastime that kills my immune system and my head inflates like a helium balloon. Right now, I'm fighting off a cough that even Buckley's isn't taking care of. But all the pot I'm smoking doesn't help.

There is no reason for this post-Christmas depression. I had a very relaxing New Year with Datura and we went to a bizarrely polite and boring Christmas party in Richmond Hill. Why the hell are we - city people - going to fucking Richmond Hill for NYE??? I had invitations to all kinds of big parties in the city, but for some reason couldn't find it in myself to go to any of them. It feels silly paying $45 - $70 to attend a NYE party.

I basically fucked away my prize money by treating almost everyone who came my way to one extravagant meal or another. Why do I hate money? It's almost as if I secretly believe that by immediately reinvesting any money that comes into my hands into the fun and interesting areas of my life, I will be rewarded by Karma with more money to do more of the same.

Check out my new piano.

It only has like 5 settings, but the price was right and it feels fucking amazing. I don't believe in plastic hallow keys. When I play the piano, I like to feel it. Right now, I can only play one song, but it'll take time. I still need a proper music stand and a light. These dreary January days spreads very little sunlight into the apartment.

So it looks like I'm back to being a poor boring college student again. No more party planning, no more $2,500, and no more Christmas presents.

My Lovely Lady Lump

2005-12-20T16:41:00.000-08:00

Can you believe this won me $2,500??

Datura sent me a much needed supportive and sympathetic e-mail. She probably got the heaviest of my turmoil over all of this - not just the party, but school and everything, and it's just been a very stressful three months. A lot has happened in both of our lives, but look at us! Still emotionally and psychologically intact (kinda), physically healthy, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for the next great adventure despite the fear and anxiety, and despite all odds and obstacles we're charging towards the future throwing away the past as we careen down this topsy turvy winding highway towards a bloodred sun.

Mmm... melodrama. Feels like home.

Anyhoo... Insecurities aside, this is the most financially rewarding Christmas ever! I mean Chinese New Year is always lucrative, but THIS! I know you're all adults and some of you can shit $2,500 on a nightly basis, but for a little college student like me, I feel like I've won the jackpot.

I called my mom first, and she very sternly reminded me not to waste all this on candy and clothes (or drugs in my experience), and I - for once - think she's absolutely right. I'm buying a piano. An electric piano with weighted keys and glorious built-in speakers so that I may drown myself in Tschaikovsky and Mozart and Tim Burton. One of my goals in life is to write one great song. That's not asking a lot, and I've got lots of time to do it.

But I don't intend on spending more than $1,500, so I've been treating all my friends! I thought I wouldn't be able to buy anyone Christmas presents this year, and anyway, I don't see my friends often enough to be able to buy them anything good, plus many of my friends are still in school so they're not going to be buying me anything, so I've basically been treating those around me. On Saturday, I took a slightly hung-over Datura to Mel's Montreal Bistro on Bloor St. for an especially decadent breakfast complete with fruit cups, sides of fried beans, freshly squeezed orange juice, coffeeeeeeeeeeeee, smoked salmon, and Montreal smoked meat.

After we dropped Datura off in Newmarket, Ryan and I drove up to Beeton to visit our friends Wes and Amanda who bought a 100 year old farm house up there where they live with their cat Cosmo and their Staffordshire Terrier Cross (pitbull) Burnham. We had dinner at The Muddy Waters: Home for Wayward Girls - the only bar in Beeton - a known motorcycle gang hang-out and the source of much fun and merriment for the locals young and old.

A band called Haight-Ashbury was playing coincidentally who used to play at shows with Wes back when he was in high school. Now Haight plays for an older more sophisticated crowd at The Muddy Waters where the wings are only 35 cents each and the washrooms are cleaner than most restaurants downtown. A groovey lady with shaved head showed off her awesome dance moves (they REALLY were awesome) on the dance floor, and they were later joined by two white-haired ladies who did a little bit of swing dancing to everyone's delight.

Sitting there with beers all around, eating chicken wings and red hot chilli poppers, listening to an amazing cover band do a rock-out version of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds made me feel so much better. I treated everyone to dinner that night paying with a crisp $100 (very special, I never have those in my pocket!) and we wished Wes and Amanda a very merry Christmas because they are two very special and wonderful friends.

On the ride home, I just couldn't stop thinking about the party. All the things that could have been done better had I known about them. That's experience I guess. Slowly, the regrets are fading, and especially after seeing all the wonderful pictures, it really does look like everyone had a great time. There were fun parts - bits of flirting here and there, kissing my darling on stage in front of everyone, hugging David VP like a big ole grandpa on his way out the door... maybe it really doesn't take a lot to get people to have fun. Especially if they are people that you know who care about you and believe in you.

It's like I wasn't even there.

2005-12-19T18:16:00.000-08:00

What can I say about the Christmas party?

It happened and almost everything went as planned. There were DEFINATELY things that could've been better managed. But I don't want this post to be about my personal criticism on the event. I spent the entire ride home from Newmarket on Saturday crying because I was being crushed by my own perfectionistic standards. Good thing Ryan was there to scream some sense into me.

Basically, I spent the Friday morning tying up loose ends and getting ready for the party. Datura arrived at 7 to get dressed, and we took the most roundabout way to get to The Church because the traffic was just stupid in the city. Poor Nicole called me at 7:30 wondering where the fuck I was. She was probably almost as nervous as I was!

When we got there, I had to get to work. At first, everything was chill - Osaze was playing some kick ass tunes, and everyone seemed to be really enjoying themselves. Then the dancers came on and they asked Osaze to play fuckin dance beats and shit which was what first threw me into a fit of hyper-ventilation just cuz it was too fucking much!

I thought maybe a joint would help me relax, and sweet sweet Frost hooked me up with a cool chick from his company to smoke me up. It's weird being smoked up by someone you don't even know, and I ended up unloading some of the party planning horror on her which in retrospect was very inconsiderate of me, but the pot and the tobacco and my empty stomach made me feel miserable.

I tried to eat - I sat by myself when everyone was done dinner and ate some vegetables and salad because I would've thrown up anything else. I still haven't really figured out why I was so stressed out! Just nerves I guess... the pressure of being held responsible for such a big party was too much for one little mitten like me to handle.

I found Datura for a much needed hug.

Not all of the evening was bad though... I got to meet SO many wonderful people and a lot of contacts in the event planning industry. =D I fluttered around making sure everyone was having a good time, and though many people complimented me on the party - some insanely insecure part of my brain kept imagining the criticism twinkling in their eyes. The words that should have made me elated were consistently soured by my own goddamn insecurity.

I couldn't even enjoy my Squints victory! Yes, once again I have emerged the Squints Champion 2005 - that's two years in a row. And yes, I admit I do practice, but this year was the first year I practiced. After all, I had a title to defend. The prize this year went up to $2,500 which will buy me a piano and then some. With an ass this talented, I'm seriously considering getting it insured.

This review of the party is pretty dry. I can't think of anything else to say! I honestly don't remember very much of it because I was too preoccupied with the technicalities of the event. Tomorrow, I will write about my feelings; about my emotional outburst on Saturday; about my impromptu holiday treats for my friends; and all the other bullshit drama neurotic blah blah blah that's going through my head.

But for now, this is what you get.

Body. Style. VeloCity

2005-12-14T16:37:00.000-08:00

Those are the best ads out of my campaign. They're supposed to be full-page newspaper broadsheets in black and white. I'm A LOT better at doing black and white design than anything. I'm colour-retarded, but I'm learning.

I got an A for this project. That entire class was called The Big Book, and as Datura can tell you, it's just a big book that I bound in hardcover which entails an entire advertising campaign from start to finish. The purpose of the campaign was to generally change the image of bicycle culture in Canadian urban centres. Hopeful... but I doubt any real companies would want to invest in something like this.

Confessions of Min_o

2005-12-12T18:16:00.000-08:00

Dear Blog,

Yes, I'm doing one of those dear-blog-i'm-so-sorry-for-neglecting-you-but-let-me-explain-why posts.

School is over. I have a meeting tomorrow with my course co-ordinator, which will no doubt be a long lecture about my committment to the program (or something of such tone), and I will have to explain to him the insanity that is planning the Python/Orgasm Christmas Party.

I consider it my Get Out of Jail Free card, and god knows I've earned it.

There's only five days left til the party, and I've finally got everything nailed. It's definately nothing near what I started with in the beginning, but that's not a bad thing. One thing that this whole experience has taught me is that when you're throwing a party with someone else's money, you can't say shit all about anything. I've learned not to take this so personally. And in the end, it's just a job.

One thing that I can say for sure about this party is that it's going to be FUCKING FABULOUS. It's not the Playboy Mansion, but it's going to be fun. We've got entertainment coming out the yin yang (thanks to Damian) and we've got a DJ who's going to rock the house. I can't believe I didn't think of him right away, Osaze, he's been DJing the local rock clubs for like 10 years, and he has a great bum! I thought I was going to have to settle for a production company DJ because nobody seemed to want to make me a fucking sample tape. Some guy actually asked me for $200 for him to make me a sample tape! wtf? Anyway, Osaze has personality and he'd never be asked to spin at a bar mitzvah (unless the kid was a goth punk).

But enough about the party. What about min_o - the person - the girl? I always lose myself at school. There's something about being around the people in my program that turns me into a cold, disinterested bitch. And it's only the people in my program who bother me because I'm the kind of person who'll hang out in the print shop and make friends with the geeky print shop boy who listens to The Dears and Sublime all day. He's so adorable - he and I sang and danced to The Mariner's Revenge Song on one particularly long Tuesday afternoon.

But I've learned not to resent my peers. There are many reasons why I dislike them and yes I can admit that jealousy does play a part. How can a crazy Scarborough girl who was brought up by a crazy Chinese single mom not be jealous of rich Forest Hill girls who all have really nice shoes that I can't afford and cars that I don't even have a license to drive? So last weekend, I went out and bought the pair of brown leather boots I've been thinking about all winter. They cost me more than I'll probably make from planning the Christmas party, but I love them and when I wear them, I don't feel so inferior and frumpy.

The good news is that I still feel like myself. I realise that many of the hobbies I took up over the summer have to be put on hold during the school year, and that it's ok. I'll never lose my desire to draw and paint (in fact my storyboards have never looked better). I stopped break dancing not because I don't have time, but because I need more strength training before I can take it on again. As a result, I'm about to finish my first 8-week session of pilates, and I have signed up for another session that starts in January. Honestly, my ass has never felt finer.

I was afraid that I'd go back to the same old boring Jasmin. Only three years ago this Christmas did I spend my evenings lying on an old couch covered with cat hair watching TV every night, and going out every so often to dance at "Funhaus" because I missed Zen Lounge. I was seriously dumped for the first time that Christmas and at the time, I was so confused because it was one of my few relationships where I didn't cheat. I thought fidelity was the secret key to a successful and longlasting relationship. Naive eh?

Since then, I've discovered many things about myself. I was finally able to face my many many fears and insecurities, and I let them go. It's a lot of work becoming a real person. I didn't grow up in a neighbourhood that encouraged people to be real people - we were all clones of one another. And when I see my friends back in Scarborough now, I can see where I have grown and changed, and where they will always be the same. And I say that without superiority because hey - they're the ones who are getting university degrees and they're going to become accountants and lawyers, and I still have no idea what the fuck I'm going end up being, so it's hard to feel superior just because I have cooler hobbies than they have.

The best thing that came out of all this personal development, and the thing that makes it all worthwhile are the amazing and inspiring people who have come into my life. The people who make me want to go out and read different books, listen to different music, go to different places, etc. Before, I didn't have many people like that in my life. I didn't have a lot of real friends.

Sorry, Blog, for writing your face off. But some things just need to be written down and shared.

Love always,

Jasmin =)

Balloon Hat

2005-11-27T21:31:00.000-08:00

Just went to see a band called Rogue Wave from Oakland, CA. It was at the Horseshoe and the place was pretty filled up, but it didn't sell out like Wolfparade did. I can't help but think that this show was better than Wolfparade just because we didn't get to go to it. This time, we bought tickets.

The opening band was what actually made the whole night really fun. It was a local band called The Ghost is Dancing featuring a plastic tub occasionally used as a drum, a saxophone player, an accordian player, and a recorder player. You know recorders like in grade school when you're still too young to play any real instruments. It sounded very good actually, and they were extremely spirited and entertaining performers.

I ended up meeting the accordian player in the WC and she gave me the balloon hat was wearing. I later met up with one of the guitarists at the merch booth and told him I had to beat someone up for it.

On the way home, Ryan pointed out a giant white cardboard cathedral that has been erected on the CN train bridge that crosses Dufferin and Queen. Right next to the giant Val Kilmer heads. On nights like this I love Toronto.

Coffee.

2005-11-27T11:28:00.000-08:00

Disaster. I'm about to embark on a two week schedule of non-stop work for the final stretch of the third semester, when this morning, I broke the coffee carafe for the coffee maker. There is a Coffee Time around the corner, but I'm too spoiled to drink their coffee. The closest decent coffee house is The Roastery which is a 15 minute walk away, but is not open on Sundays, and closes by 5pm on weekdays.

We're still waiting to hear back from the coffee maker manufacturer to see if they will send a replacement carafe to Canada. In the meantime, I've got a whole box of imported green tea, which is what I'm drinking right now. I have to keep telling myself that tea has just as much caffein.

Luckily, I already had a cup of coffee at the breakfast place this morning, so I have narrowly escaped the onset of caffein withdrawl for one day. But it's not the caffein I miss the most. It's what I need, but what I really miss is that warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the apartment, and the full rich taste of whatever organic blend of coffee we bought from Moon Bean with two spoons of brown sugar and just enough cream. Tear.

Eat. Sleep. Shit. Advertising.

2005-11-23T14:03:00.000-08:00

One: Two: Three: more weeks of school. Not technically, but I have no intention of being at school after the first week of December because I hate it and I need time to focus on the Christmas party. Less than a month til the party and still no DJs! WTF! There's no one to blame but me, I haven't had time to source out local DJs. Ideally, I'd be going to every party in town to find the right one because I'm that anal, but instead I've been leaving it to production companies to sell me one because I'm that busy. =(

I have huge projects due in the following two weeks, and I'm being very picky which classes I make the 1.5 hour commute for. At least my plants are happier because I'm at home to water them every day. At the beginning of the program, the coordinator told us that we have to EAT, SLEEP, AND SHIT advertising (a phrase we normally use to mock him), however the reality is that this program forces you to EAT, SLEEP AND SHIT ADVERTISING. I'm constantly confronted with ad ideas that are so lame in retrospect I'm embarrassed to even have those thoughts.

For example, this morning this guy Peter was trying to open one of those Del Monte fruit cups without spraying himself. In my head, I was picturing a Del Monte commercial where he sprays himself and a sexy Mexican fellow comes by and licks the juice off his face. Fruity. Del Monte Fruit Cups.

WTF! That was so gay on so many levels, I don't know what's wrong with me! This is why I don't want to go into advertising because I fear the risk of one of these retarded ideas gets picked up and I have to feel responsible for releasing another unecessary, unsolicited, bad fucking piece of advertising into this world, and I don't think I could live with that.

On the flipside, I think I'll have some ads produced by next week which I'll happily put up for you all to see. =D I did a photoshoot for my bicycle campaign on Monday, was outside for 3 hours straight in 0*C weather. The pictures were great, but the lighting was very very bad. And there was no way to fake summer anymore - all the trees are bare and there's leaves on the ground. It would've been better if the pics had been taken over the summer. =(

Peace out 4 now.

Anthony Hopkins

2005-11-17T17:27:00.000-08:00

I have crazy dreams, but they're not usually very enlightening (my mushroom trips are another story). When I was young, they used to be bloody and violent, but now they've gotten pretty boring and since school started, I tend to dream about forgotten assignments and unprepared tests.

Last night, however, my fucked up little brain decided to throw a party for me in a bright and sunny house with yellow and white walls. There was a picnic outside and everyone was eating BBQ and cake, my whole family was there! Then we went inside and suddenly we were being hunted down by Anthony Hopkins - NO not Hannibal Lecter, but Anthony Hopkins himself The Man. He chased us throughout the house that had hallways like a maze, and sometimes we were crawling through the pipes and the walls. I don't know what weapon he had, and I don't think he killed anyone, but there was definately the feeling that if he found us he'd kill us all.

Weird.

Today, I watched the Fatboy Slim video for Weapon of Choice starring the talented Christopher Walken and I really really really want to dance in a video like that. I don't know what song though - any suggestions?

Blog It!

2005-11-16T14:40:00.000-08:00

I felt like writing again because I've made the conscious decision not to go to school tomorrow so I can finish writing my Media Brief (it's not as brief as it sounds) and study for my PR test. As mentioned, school has been put under control, it's just up to me to keep it all together. Between school and planning the Christmas party, pot's the only thing that keeps me from falling on my knees and crying.

I participated in a focus group in my research class today on drug abuse and epilepsy. I think my teacher was quite surprised at what an unapologetic junkie I actually am. But people's views on recreational drugs are so skewed. As I said during the focus group, "We all know the risks involved when using drugs, and we're all responsible for our own behaviour." I'm not going to let two college douchebags tell me that drugs are going to give me seizures when experience has shown me what my actual limits are and I think as long as we respect our limits, we'll all be just fine. Like me and booze. I know my limit for alcohol is zero, so it doesn't even tempt me to drink.

It looks like I might have to go to different strip clubs to find some decent erotic dancers for the Christmas party. I'm not complaining, but I have no idea when I'm gonna have time to do this. But hey! Someone's gotta do it! Maybe someone needs to come with me? =D

I don't know if anyone else does this, but during the day, I collect funny little things that happen in my head in a little brain folder called Blog It. But I can never remember what I put in there when it comes time to blog. That's why my posts are always so random because I keep writing because I think I have something to say, but by the end of the post, there's nothing there. =P

Aww... it's the Christmas Spirit! How cute!

2005-11-15T12:31:00.000-08:00

The school days are tumbling rumbling by and there's only about a month left before third semester has been triumphed and the Christmas holidays begin. At the beginning of the year, I was depressed (as some of you may have noticed)... just because summer had been so adventurous and fun and I got to meet all kinds of cool people. And I don't know what it is about my program, but it has just attracted some pretty nasty girls who dress like Christina Aguilera in November, and really square pegs you know. =P Just not used to it I guess...

Not that I haven't also met some very cool people over the school year. Like yesterday, I had breakfast with a very talented photographer, Krista, who has agreed to photograph my print ads for me. I knew I was going to like her when she suggested to meet at Tequilla Bookworm because it's one of my favourite places to drink coffee and read magazines for free. We talked about my VeloCity campaign (the ads will be posted once they've been put together), and she told me about some of the projects that she's been working on. I found her online portfolio through a friend and fellow blogger Kalimba who was kind enough to dance with me at the party at Olivier's gallery. That was a fun night! And Kalimba is an excellent dancer.

Anyway, in retrospect, my early program depression was also due to my expectation that things were somehow going to be different this year in the program. That the nasty bitches would miraculously disappear, and the square pegs were going to discover their inner roundness, but no everything stayed the same. It was my fault for expecting something that wasn't going to happen. With time, I've just gotten used to the fact that few people in my program are on my wavelength and in the end it's always just going to be about vibes. It doesn't matter if someone's 18 or 60 years old, it's always going to come down to vibes.

The Christmas holidays has never been so exciting. Growing up, Christmas meant one dinner with my whole family where we eat Chinese food and give each other presents that we bought during Boxing Week last year. That is the Chinese way. However, Ryan's family goes all out by cooking a ham and a turkey and pies and cakes and cookies and generally just eating and drinking wine all night while catching up with people they only get to see once a year. Then on Boxing Day instead of kicking ass at the mall, we drive up north to spend Christmas with Ryan's dad's family where his grandfather will make some not-too-subtle hint about great-grandchildren (Ryan's the oldest grandkid). Somehow, I don't think telling him that I'm only 21 will change his attitude.

So as the days and weeks go drifting by, I just wanted to take a moment to look back on where I've gone this past semester, and what I have to look forward to in December. There's much work to do, so I'll get back to it. I hope to see most of you people over the holidays! That's another thing to look forward to.

Chinese TP

2005-11-08T13:48:00.000-08:00

That joke about how little old Chinese women stock up on years worth of toilet paper just because it's on sale is completely true. The bedroom in the basement of my mom's house is used exclusively for toilet paper storage. She recently bought Ryan and I a "gift" of some Chinese toilet paper. She does this from time-to-time, but this she said was a really good deal. Only a dollar for twenty rolls! The basement bedroom is probably stocked to the ceiling.

But something just isn't adding up. First off, the packaging is written in Chinese and offers absolutely no English or French translation - a must for any Canadian product. This means that not only was this package imported from half-way around the world, but it was so fucking cheap that they could still flog it for one dollar. One hundred fucking cents. That's five cents a roll. Canadian. CAD.

Upon closer inspection - specifically while on the toilet yesterday, I noticed that my toilet paper was glinting at me. There are little shiney pieces of what I can only assume is tin foil in my toilet paper. There are little red and brown spots on my toilet paper. My toilet paper has the same texture and slight stretch-ability as crepe paper.

In spite of all the signs that suggest that perhaps I am using poorly recycled toilet paper from China, I wiped my ass anyway, and will continue to wipe my ass until all twenty rolls are gone because I am a potential old Chinese woman and I can't resist the five cents per roll, so all I can say is thank god I don't have hemroids. And I hope I don't get any weird ass diseases.

Two Saturday Nights in One

2005-11-07T13:43:00.000-08:00

On Saturday night, I had one of those evenings where it feels like two separate evenings in one night.

Part I

The first half, I attended my friend Rita's birthday party. It was at this Italian restaurant on Front Street that was fancy, but still trying to do a casual Jack Astor's thing at the same time. I don't get that. Do people make restaurants like that because there are rich people out there who get tired of being in fancy places all the time, so they go to places like this when they're slumming, but they won't have to get their hands dirty? I dunno!

I've forgotten what Chinese people are like in their mid to late twenties! Maybe I was just sitting at the boring end of the table, but all these people talked about were what universities they went to, what degrees they got, and what jobs they're looking for. In fact, the only difference between Chinese people in their mid-20's and in high school is cars and the amount of disposable income they have. I felt like I was back in Scarborough again. I played the crazy white-wash person who told crass and crazy stories all night just to fill that awkward silence. Chinese people are not usually very good at mingling.

The night ended at 10:30 with a nice group picture outside of the restaurant. I decided not to be in the picture because my coat wasn't cute enough. That's not really true, my shoes sucked too. Nah, the truth is, I was embarrassed at being part of a huge group of Chinese people all lined up together, the girls hooking arms, in front of a tacky expensive Italian restaurant. I'm a snob. I suck. In my mind, the only Chinese people I'd willingly do that with is my family and the BAC (my close friends from high school) cuz it's tradition. Other than that, I find it difficult to force a smile.

So no one wanted to go out for drinks. This was disappointing. I ended up getting dropped off at Tequila Bookworm where I read a Vogue article about the woman who started Vogue China. It was awesome! I hope I get to do something so exciting one day, although I'm not sure if I'd want to live in China - even temporarily. It's so much fun to visit, but the hustle and bustle of that country can feel incessant and soul draining if you're not used to it.

Part II

When Tequila closed, I reluctantly boarded the streetcar home, and played with the idea of going into the Gladstone to see what was going on. It's Kareoke Night every Saturday! Of course, being a non-drinker, there is less incentive to walk into a bar alone. Fortunately, I bumped into my old friend Paulo smoking outside. He was having a drink with Devin, who was inside flirting (or being flirted with) by a very loud woman so Paulo and I made fun of him all night. Devin went up to sing an Elton John number, which undoubtedly only fueled this woman's affections for him because Devin has a voice like an angel.

The three of us left the bar, just as the sky collapsed from heavy rain, and we hooked arms and ran with only my tiny collapsable umbrella to shield us. We ended up going back to my place for some smokey until Ryan came home shortly after. He was surprised to find that I had relinquished my rolling duties to Paulo, who is the King. I learned how to roll under the table by observing him.

It felt so good to have my old friends meet my new boyfriend. Paulo was a very good friend of my ex-boyfriend, and Devin is actually his older brother. But it didn't feel awkward at all. It's been difficult for me to make new friends over the years, and sometimes I worry that the good friends I've made are just going to fade away with time. Friendships only last though when both people really want it, and it doesn't matter how frequently or in-frequently you speak to each other.

Speaking of friends, my dear friend Maya had her baby super prematurely, born at only one and a half pounds. I'm so worried about her... but there's nothing I can do. =(

Speaking in Tongues

2005-11-04T17:32:00.000-08:00

I got a call the other night from the mysterious Datura. I hadn't heard from her in so long, I couldn't even recognize her voice! Of course, she had also just called after I smoked a large huminahumina and I wasn't exactly in the soundest state of mind. I did try to however, remember as much as I could the contents of our conversation so I could report it to you as she is far far far too busy and fabulous to talk to anyone right now.

So basically, she's totally lovin' the designer rug/carpet industry. She says it's comme une gallerie d'arte. French is so fucking sexy. She's been learning the ropes (and there's "sooooo" much to learn), and she's taken up a project to create a new website for them. I telt her, I sais, "Kellie, ye ken thet thair harvestin yir youth, don't ye? They're gonnae squeeze ivray last drop ay trendiness oot ay ye." And she laughed. And I didn't say it like that, I just finished re-re-re-re-re-reading Trainspotting (the problem with re-reading books is that because they're so familiar, u can read them really fast so even if you start off only flipping through it on the can, three days later, ur finished the whole thing). I reminded her about the Christmas party though, so she has no excuses not to be present. Near the end of the conversation, Khan puked everywhere so the last minute basically sounded like this: "Awwwwwwww... OHHHH!!!hhhh... Khaaaaannn... ohhh... AwwwWWwwwww!" I don't think Khan's adjusting to K's new schedule very well, no wonder though, he's just a pup wonderin where his mom's gone to. Hope he's ok and it's not a virus.

So Halloween 2005. Was it as exciting as Halloween 2004? There were definately better costumes this year. It appeared that people are much trendier in 2005 than 2004.

I was ODing Bitch: Mia Wallace (from Pulp Fiction) and Ryan was a fat biker dude.

Amanda was supposed to be a vampire lady, but her fangs didn't work out. She's donning the beautiful and lush Napolean Dynamite wig. Mark was the best pimp I've ever met.

And this is Michael and a girl whose name I can never remember, but she's an artist who's having a showing at a gallery in Hamilton that I won't be able to go to. She was a French-Canadian wrestler, and her boyfriend was a guy from Hamilton on Halloween.

Wes was the last piece of toilet paper on the roll. Looks like he's been used too.

I didn't get nearly as stoned at this party as last year, but it was still a lot of fun and the food was GREAT! I forgot my loot bag, though. =( Wonder what I'm going to be next year...

The Alpha Pumpkin and The Humanitarian Movement

2005-10-25T19:29:00.000-07:00

For Halloween, Ryan and I bought a pumpkin at a convenient store that was selling these medium-sized, apartment-friendly pumpkins. We named him Alpha because he was clearly superior to the rest in terms of colour, shape and intellect.

Tonight, I attended my first political activist group meeting. It's a group called Humanize Toronto, part of the Humanitarian Movement. From what I understand, they believe in social change that starts from personal improvement, which is something I believe strongly in (consider The Ripple Effect). I met a lot of very interesting people, most of whom are teachers, and we got into discussions about teaching theories and how our society was brought up on the idea that positive reinforcement means that you can get people to do things by giving them tangible encouragement (this may or may not have been the original idea, but it's certainly how our society interprets it). So teachers give out things like stickers and candy to try to encourage kids to do things, but the result is that people are becoming too individualistic and materialistic.

Anyway, it was really neat to meet such likeminded people. I doubt I'll have much time to help them, but I've been meaning to participate in some form of politics, and this seems like a very interesting group to be a part of.

The Business of Sucking Badly

2005-10-25T09:42:00.000-07:00

After 5 hours of hair-tearing aggrevation yesterday, I finally produced what will officially be the flyer for the Python/Orgasm Christmas Party 2005. BEHOLD its brutality will hypnotize and nauseate!

See! There's a reason why I'm not streaming creative in school. I fucking suck. But I own my suckiness, I wear it like a giant affro on a proud African-American man. Anticipate its arrival in your e-mails shortly.

I think I'm a bit more normal this time.

2005-10-18T13:50:00.000-07:00

Tried to see Wolfparade last night at the Horseshoe, but the show was oversold and there was nary a scalper in sight. Ryan and I still stood outside hopin', but eventually just settled for a drink inside the front. Ryan even remembers seeing the tickets on sale when they were first released, but at the time he wasn't sure if he wanted to see them yet. Who is Wolfparade one may ask? They remind me of Modest Mouse, but that's as far as my musical resources can take me. They're not as hard as MM, though.

Study week is next week - and HALLOWEEN. Maybe I'll make a cool costume during my time off. That would be a neat project! Maybe I'll buy a sewing machine since I've always wanted to learn how to make my own clothes. Hmm...

My down feelings about school have subsided at the moment, and I'm enjoying a relieving wave of much needed calm. Just got an e-mail from my friend Lydia - the first friend I made in high school, and she passed her MCATs which means she'll be eligible for medical school. I can't even find the words to describe how proud of her I am... While I do not see them very often and don't really have much in common with them, my friends from Scarborough are the smartest, dearest friends, and I'm so lucky to know them.

Min-Spotting

2005-10-17T13:26:00.000-07:00

This is the poster Datura helped me shoot pics for.

Look what a cute photographer/stylist she is!

Anyway, yeah it's cheese, but i think it's better than doing some collage of my life with baby pictures and shit.

I will follow you into the dark.

2005-10-16T13:43:00.000-07:00

The Death Cab for Cutie show we went to see last night was sold out and scalpers were asking for $100 per. It was tempting for a second to make like $160 for the two $20 tickets we got at Rotate This (the best place to buy concert tix btw minus those obscene service charges that TicketMaster likes to charge), but Ryan's a huge Death Cab fan so of course we went in. We missed the opening band because we didn't want to stand around for hours at the Koolhaus between sets getting drunk on $5.50 beers.

It was the fastest show ever - or it felt like it - because despite my opinions about sad bastard music, death cab is a great band both musically and lyrically. The highlight of the evening was definately the first encore number featuring Ben Gibbard solo on his guitar, singing I Will Follow You Into The Dark from their newest album, Plans. This is the guy who also wrote the gorgeous song, Such Great Heights, covered by Iron & Wine on the soundtrack of Garden State (which was how i discovered Postal Service - when will u come to town???). And fuck... the sound of his sweet voice joined by the hundreds of devoted followers in the dark concrete of the koolhaus... you can only imagine:

Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles brusied by a lady in black
And I held my toungue as she told me
"Son fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
Cause we'll hold each other soon
The blackest of rooms

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark

The past little while, I've gone to see Bloc Party, The Decemberists and Death Cab for Cutie. December 1st, we're going to see Spoon. So far, every single show I've been to have been sold out, and I can't help but wonder if online file sharing has its effect on this. Maybe that's why indie rock has become so popular because indie bands have been distributing music online for years? Record companies are still crying about the drop in CD sales, but what about concert sales? Most people would much rather spend $20 - $50 on a live show than $14 on a CD. Anyway, allz I'm sayin is that the music industry as a whole minus monetary woes has benefited far more from file sharing than loss. Ok I'm done talking shit.

The Jasmin-spotting poster (re: Datura's Garden blog) is almost ready to be posted. I was up til 4:30 a.m. last night working on it.

Ninja Ship

2005-10-14T13:25:00.000-07:00

No one I know has ever really heard of The Decemberists, or have listened to The Decemberists, and when they do listen to The Decemberists, they don't really know what's so special about The Decemberists.

The Decemberists played at The Pheonix last night, and it was Special.

Their music is kind of like psychedelic pirate music. And the members are like crazy drama-music teachers from Oregon who makes really cool music. They played everything from the violin, to the accordian, to the upright bass, to the xylophone-type thing that has strings instead (I'm not sure what you call it), to the so on and so forth, they're very musical let's just say.

The reason why I liken them to drama teachers is because their show was extremely theatrical. Colin Meloy, the lead vocalists and guitarist, kept switching between a British and Oregon accent, they were dancing jigs up on stage, and at one point, they sent this guy with two small brass symbols to run around the crowd, jumping up into the air and smashing the symbols together along with the music. Then for the song, The Mariner's Revenge Song, half the people on the floor were instructed to scream at the top of their lungs like we were being swallowed by a whale, the other half had to moan and groan, and the people in the balcony had to make exclamations about Mothers and whales and death. The Pheonix was packed shoulder to shoulder, so imagine all us geeks, freeks and aeroplanes wailing at the top of our lungs. That's not even the best part! For one of their last songs, they got all of us to sit/crouch on the floor and just imagine everyone at the pheonix sitting down all at once, and when the song suddenly picks up, everyone pops back up like jack-in-the-boxes, all together like one giant wave of people.

So I was almost an hour late for class this morning.

I admit, The Decemberists' music isn't my favourite music in the world, but it's GOOD and it has personality and drama. There were a lot of die-hard fans in the crowd who knew all the words, and then there were some like Ryan and I who were really enjoying the experience. Then there were the people who just didn't look like they knew what was going on - like this one chick on the balcony who wouldn't sit her ass down and Colin Meloy refused to start the song til she did. Some people need to learn how to have fun. I had fun, did you?

Sad Bastard

2005-10-07T20:14:00.000-07:00

Excerpt from Daily Pages:

The stress is killing me. I always thought I hated school because of outside pressures (like the other students or the teachers), but the truth is: it's all in my head. My desire to only hand in the very best work is driving me insane. And the lack of time and focus I require to achieve my standards is so frusterating. Ryan says that's what a business is like - there's never enough time or resources to do the best job in anything, so everything ends up being half-assed. ...

I'm so anxious about getting a job. I wonder what I can qualify for now. I should go online to check, but I don't have time. There are so many soul nurturing things I need - am slowly dying for - that I simply don't have the time for. I can barely remember who I am anymore. The past summer, I had this golden energy that lit the way down every adventure, it made life feel so delightfully easy. Where did it come from? From focusing on my Inner Child. Letting her come out and play. She was much more wise and mature than my Outer Adult. My Outer Adult is brash, harsh, demanding, stressed-out, angry, fatalistic - all these terrible negatives. My Inner Child was so happy, smart, adventurous, dedicated, optimistic. Life opened up to her, but Life hides from me. Or rather I hide from it. I feel like a completely different person sometimes, it's scary. And I remember the moments this summer in sudden bouts of euphoria when I knew the high could not last forever and it didn't. But it didn't matter because I refused to step outside The Moment. Those sunny, magical days remain in my memory like a dream too sweet to have been real, but it was real. There is very little for me to smile about these days during the next few bitter months, I'll be holed up at home every spare moment devoting myself to one project after another - on top of many others.

End excerpt.

This is me these days, which is why I find it so difficult to blog. I feel like such an ass. I don't have a part-time job to worry about and I live with my boyfriend. I don't know what I'm complaining about. I just feel so out of my element. =(

Look! No hands!

2005-09-28T16:40:00.000-07:00

There's this class I have to take called "New Media Literacy", taught by a lady who insisted we all install Netscape 4.2 on our computers (Ryan refused) because she's a crazy lady who refuses to learn to use any other e-mail program. Basically, she's teaching us about how to lay out our e-mails real purty, so I'm not sure where this "literacy" part comes in. It's an online elective, which means a.) it's easy, and b.) I don't have to go to class.

My assignment for this week was to Google "the workplace of the future", find 3 related articles, and write an opinion, which I'd like to share with you because it's kind of interesting and I want to show you guys my homework. =D Ready?

The Workplace of Tomorrow

The workplace of today is already planets away from the places in which we worked a century ago. The workplace of tomorrow is whole new horizon outlined in smarter technology and wireless communications. The leaps we have taken to create an efficient and productive world is speeding us towards a future where computers aren’t as frustrating; where our workspace is more comfortable than the oppressive cubicle; and most importantly: where we can telecommute.

Businesses are changing the way they use office space. The old view was that top management should get the best offices and the best views, and everyone else should get stacked in tiny cubicles. Today, there are an increasing number of open offices and workstation offices that allow much more interaction between the staff and management. Employees are being armed with laptops, mobile phones, and other wireless gadgets, which gives them more options as to where to work. This is to allow the employees to spend more time with clients, go on business trips, and work from the comfort of their homes. Office space isn’t cheap, so Jeff Kinder suggests an alternative called Office Hotel, where people can book office space according to their schedule.

But Office Hotel is only an idea. Right now, people are turning their homes into offices. CompUSA is helping people set up home networks that tie their computers to their TVs to their sound systems to their printers to their phones to their security systems, and so on. Basically, people want to have all the convenient luxuries of the office right in their homes without fussy wires and odd ends sticking out everywhere. However, as Martin Bean and Robyn Thorpe explains, one of the main problems of home networking is making it user-friendly and maintainable by the homeowner. Unlike an office, the home doesn’t have an IT department.

In the future, there will be smart computers that can repair themselves and office chairs will give you back massages – anything to make you more productive. But with all these perks and telecommuting and wireless communications, people will be expected to work everywhere they go, and there will be no way to hide from the office. Dana Knight claims that “Forty-two percent of executives said they expect people will work longer hours by 2020. The average 40-hour workweek may be replaced by a 50-hour schedule.”

The workplace of the future is starting to sound a little scary. While all these technological advancements hope to make life easier for individuals, as a society they might burn us out. Will we know where to draw the line once we invite our employers into our homes through laptops and video conferences? Will we know when we’ve spent too much time working? All these articles talk about how telecommuting will be so amazing because it will save us time and money, and we won’t have to see our pesky co-workers and bosses. But part of our social development is learning to work with each other. When given the option of confronting someone we don’t like, the majority will choose to hide behind a computer or a phone. But that doesn’t make us stronger, and it doesn’t allow us to grow emotionally. As human beings, we must never forget that our society thrives on human intimacy, and though technology brings people around the world closer together, it is keeping the people around us farther apart.

Goddamn Baby Boomers!

2005-09-27T14:18:00.000-07:00

I got a new issue of Vice - the Baby Boomer Bashing issue. I don't know a lot about economics and history and shit, but the idea of blaming most of North America's problems on one generation is pretty stupid. These "baby boomers" are part of what I like to call Human Beings. And through years of evolution, we've become ever more self-centred and greedy, so what makes Vice think that we're going to be "better" than our moms and dads? One can hope of course, and that's why I'm planning on having children no matter how fucked up this world gets because it's about the most meaningful contribution to mankind I could leave behind. Everything else like my work and my house and my car and my money won't mean much in the grand scope of things once I'm gone.

Vice does raise a lot of really good points, which I won't get into (grab your own copy if you're curious). Although I don't hate baby boomers (how can anyone EVEN VICE hate the hand that raised and fed them???), I do see the consequences of our ego-centric behaviour. All humans are ego-centric - were people made as a reflection of God or was it vice versa? But one thing we used to have that we somehow lost incidentally during the baby boomer's generation was the honouring of one's family. And I don't mean going to family get-togethers and staying in touch because that's more about you than about the family. I'm talking about family values.

In my mom's generation, everyone got divorces. That to me was the biggest offence those goddamn baby boomers made to our society. People started thinking only about themselves - and they fucking forgot about the children! Now those children think that divorce is OK - they survived it, their kids will too. But we lose sight of the fact that divorce really fucking sucks for kids and you can't ever make it up to them no matter what you do to try to make their lives better. No matter how many sacrifices, your kids will always kind of hate you for not giving them a real family. Maybe that's is just me talking.

Anyway, my point is that all those strong family values supported by society and religion are gone. Once you've given everyone the personal freedom to do basically whatever the fuck they want, you can't enforce any laws on them. God knows, I'd be the first to riot if someone told me I was NOT allowed to get a divorce. But maybe there's another better way. What if we simply taught our children to value families, to value others, and to value ourselves all at the same time. That it doesn't have to be ME vs. YOU. What about that, Dr. Phil?

Yes, this is the idealist talking.

Ah... well, what do I know anyway? I'm just pissed because on top of everything else, thanks to those goddamn baby boomers, the cost of a post-secondary education far (and beyond) exceeds its value now.

Test

2005-09-23T15:21:00.000-07:00

Hmm... heard my site was down. Just checking it out?

L'escalier à HELL

2005-09-18T06:49:00.000-07:00

The White Stripes live is like nothing I've ever seen before. How can two teeny tiny people on one huge stage, in one huge auditorium, make so much noise? The stage was decked out like a red, white and black jungle and seeing Meg and Jack perform is like taking an elevator to Hell and this is what you get when the doors slide open. The sheer quality of their music is undeniable at this point. Watching Meg play the drums is a simple pleasure in itself because she isn't merely a good drummer, her whole body embraces the rythme and she plays with the kind of conviction a little girl would have pounding on a toy drum set. And Jack - oh sexy Jack White - he tames every instrument he put his hands on and I couldn't help but think about Jimi Hendrix. I never really understood why Ryan had collected all their music on vinyl, but now I can see that they will undoubtedly go down in history as one of the landmark bands of this era.

There is a small spider web spun between two branches of my Mimosa Pudica and some of the fallen leaves look like they've been suspended in mid-air being caught in it.

We watched The Corpse Bride last night, which was very good of course because it's Tim Burton and it was a bittersweet love story about selfishness and selflessness. It had a wonderful musical score of course, and I've decided that as soon as I get a keyboard for the apartment (who knows when that will be!), I will start collecting all of Tim Burton's piano music. I can't start now because it's very sad having sheet music around and not being able to play any of it.

Outside of the theatre was a tourbus letting of some football players hootin' and hollerin' like they've never been outside on their own before. What is that makes these boys think it's impressive to scream "YEAHHHHH" from the depths of their diaphragms on the middle of the street? And it wasn't isolated to the boys from the tour bus either because their primal scream of uneccessary aggression incited sympathetic behaviour from likeminded boys off the street.

Turn off on Queen St. and you've got girls dressed like JLo and Paris and Jessica and those are the only images that come to mind. I don't wonder what kind of music they like or where they're headed to or where they're coming from because their outter shell already tells me all they want me to know: that they're beautiful and rich. They leave no trace of personality on their body - no original piece of jewlery, no signature, no flair. Just like cut-outs from a fashion mag walking a-glitter on the street.

Riding the bike home on the bicycle caravan, there is a man peeing on a street corner. He doesn't even bother to hide behind a bush or anything. He's just peeing. On the street. Now, I have nothing against public urination, in fact I just told my mom yesterday that I love peeing au naturel when I go camping because I can and it feels cleaner somehow. But that's camping and that's only at night when I won't even let Ryan shine a light on me for fear that someone might see me. But when you're riding down Adelaide - a pretty residential street once you go west of Bathurst, why the fuck are you peeing on the corner where anyone can see you? It's tacky. That man is an animal with no consideration for anyone.

I really love riding on a bicycle caravan because it's like taking a train. But I hate riding the bicycle on Queen St. on a Friday or Saturday night. It's pure bullshit like every driver has completely lost their mind. The cyclists on the other hand pedal confidently knowing that we can get anywhere faster than those cumbersome cars that gets clogged up in traffic. Some people are afraid to ride their bikes in the city, but it's one of my favourite things to do. It takes a certain level of concentration that once you've mastered, it becomes second nature and then you can start seeing details of the city you miss when you're walking because you're too busy looking into store windows, and stuff you miss driving by or on the streetcar because you're going too fast. Plus, I think bike riding recreates the closest feeling of flying. The problem with motorcycles and scooters is that you have to wear that helmet and for very good reasons because you're going faster than we're physically meant to. I choose not to wear a helmet on my bike because I love the feeling of the wind in my hair and I'm a very cautious rider where I avoid heavy traffic whenever possible (I'd rather walk my bike than get run over) and I never try to keep up with traffic. I ride leisurely with my eyes and ears open to take in this city that I love.

CAUTION: extremely boring post.

2005-09-15T12:19:00.000-07:00

It's the end of Frosh week at school, and I haven't had to buy a lunch the past two days. There wasn't any free pizza today, but K'Naan was performing in the courtyard and there were lots of people chilling on the grass and listening to the tunes. I wish the school did stuff like this more often. And I wish summer could last forever. I have a four hour break on Thursdays during which we play cards and do homework, and talk about boobs and cocks and boys and girls and sex. Just like high school.

I basically have four friends at school: Jen, Ashley, Elisa and Peter. Jen is young and cynical and in her beats the heart of a true rebel. Ashley is young and cute, but I think she has the potential to go far in life because she's smart and she doesn't rely on her looks. Elisa is very easy to talk to and very cool, but the shit that comes out of her mouth guarantees her a spot in Hell. Peter is just a simple boy from Orangeville with big dreams and boundless energy. I think what originally brought us together is because we're the least threatening to one another. But with time, all these hours that forced us to be together have built quite the interesting friendship.

For some reason, I find it difficult to blog these days. Surely you guys aren't interested in the petty squabbles and gossip I hear at school. Also, it's the beginning of the year so nothing very exciting has happened yet. People have been on extremely good behaviour (with the exception of the Courtney incident mentioned earlier) and everyone is being really nice to everybody else. Besides that though, I've noticed a lull in blog activity amongst all of you so perhaps it's just a slow period for everyone. A new season. New adjustments. No doubt as we head towards winter when we're hiding inside more often, there will be more blog posts floating around for all.

I hate that this post is so boring!!! I just can't think of anything to say. Tell me, is it better to blog something boring or not blog at all? Do people care that what I just wrote has absolutely no pertinence to anything anyone else is doing out there; that quite possibly no one could care less about who I hang out with school and I shouldn't write unless I actually have something to say??? I don't know and I'm confused.

No Squares Allowed

2005-09-12T15:18:00.000-07:00

I was devestated by my first few days of school. I thought I'd gone too far out over the summer and that school was going to completely lose its appeal to me and I was going to spend the next eight months in agony. I know that I have been on the right track. If there's anything this past summer has taught me is that yes, I am where I'm supposed to be. I'm meeting the people I need to meet who will teach me by example how to be a stronger individual, and I've been finding meaning in the smallest details of every day life. That kind of existential harmony is a Sign. I don't want to vomit anymore philosphical bullshit on you because I think I'm not educated enough in that area, but I will admit that light has been much brighter these days and the air feels much lighter.

Last Thursday night, after Ryan and I had a long talk about my future and my foray into advertising, I asked "god" for a sign. I asked Good Fortune to show me the way. And immediately, the following day, I found what I was looking for: PR. Public Relations. If there was any profession out there more suited for me, I have yet to hear of it. I love "communicating" - and I find it easy to talk to most people. Old people, young people, short people, tall people... the only people I can't talk to are people who are so narrow minded that they won't talk to you unless it's about one of the things in their short list of conversation topics (i.e. the OC and shopping - yes I've discovered that people like that really exist and that they are completely oblivious to the fact that they are retarded). For the most part though, people enjoy talking to me as much as I enjoy talking to them. And I'm a great listener. Not that many people are, but I can listen quite intently for hours. I will take the information that I've absorbed and ask pertinent questions and consequently get pertinent answers. It's not an easy task, but my mom's a real talker, so I've got some good experience under my belt in that area already.

PR is all about two-way communication. It's to understand what A public wants and offering THAT public the answers in a Language that THAT public understands. I'm good with Languages. If you want legalese, I can put on my lawyer hat and tell you exactly what your legal position is in almost any situation. If you want artsy, I can talk to you about lines and shapes and colours and movement. If you want scientific facts, I can draw a diagram with a list of points and only give you the details you asked for. If you want philisophical - well, as you already know I can wax philisophical til the proverbial cows come . If you wanted dance - fuck I'll pull out my giant piece of cardboard and act it out for you. Bottom line, whether it's written or verbal, I can carry on a pretty good dialogue even in the toughest of situations. Ever have to sit through a lawyer's session with a to-be divorcee? Emotional, intense, touchy. But divorcees were my specialty when I worked in the law firm. The women became quite attached to me, always called to speak to me, usually just to get something off their chest. I was an 19 year old girl with the problems of a 38 year old on my mind. That definately had something to do with my premature aging (OK Cupid says I've got a 38 year old inside me - bah!), but instead of letting it turn me into an old lady, I'm trying to be a wise young woman.

I got to see Datura and Corey today at work. I walked back and forth from Dominion and The Roastery twice. But it's worth it because they are two of my closest friends now and I want to make every effort in keeping our friendships strong. Datura especially has made a big difference in my life. She brings out all the good things in me, my artsy-ness and my spirituality, and she does it so naturally because it's so much a part of her. I think we groove on each others creative vibes and she inspires me endlessly. She's so intense and sensitive, I think of her as a little bird that you have to show her different heights to fly and once she gets there she soars. And that caging her doesn't break her spirit it only makes it stronger and more volatile. Perhaps it's wrong of me to talk about her like this as a lot of people who read this blog know her personally. But this is what I think of my BFF Kellie, and I love her for those very reasons and there's no point in hiding it.

Corey is like no one I've ever met. To the outsider, he's just another stoner graphic artist. But he is one of the smartest, wisest people I've ever met. He embodies a clarity that allows him to know himself and see through others around him. Though we are different, he allows me to be who I am without making me feel like a square. He's like a big brother to me in some ways and I really miss our daily coffee runs when we can share ideas and experiences. Since the first day I met Corey, I knew I liked him despite the fact that he is a Leo.

I've never had a lot of friends, and I never understood why. I'm not unattractive and I have a decent personality, but for some reason, I've never been good at making real friends. And now that I've made some, I'm so grateful that I met them that I'm not going to take them for granted. Friends are too rare and too precious to neglect. Like everything else in life, friendships need to be nurtured with time and attention, and that's definately not too much to ask for the kind of special relationship you get in return.

Sleeping with the Devil

2005-09-07T15:31:00.000-07:00

It didn't take me very long to remember what I dreaded about going back to college. After my so very enlightening summer, where I took leaps and bounds in terms of self-improvement, I found myself once again at the pit of human nature.

In design class, we were given an assignment to design a logo for ourselves, so I drew a fish that's shaped like a J with wings. Pretty simple to understand - I'm a Pisces, my name is Jasmin and I can fly. I'm showing this to my design teacher, Richard Slaven, a real character with a Hulk Hogan mustache, and I'm explaining my rationale to him and this girl, Courtney, sticks her stupid head in and says, "It looks like a logo for a seafood restaurant." I'm not going to rant, but needless to say, I was hurt and angry because this isn't a girl I fight with, she's just someone in my class that I usually ignore. We have nothing in common, we don't speak to each other, I can't for the life of me understand what made her say what she did.

And that's that.

Otherwise, it's already starting to seem like a stressful year. We only have 3 months to do a giant campaign for a social cause (mine will be teenage homelessness in Toronto) that includes everything from research to execution, a portfolio, a complete personal stationary package, a self-promotion poster, a bunch of little assignments and tests, and this has only been the second day of class.

Tomorrow is my first break-dancing class with Ryan. Hope he's ready!!! It's gonna be hilarious. Oh, it's also been my second day sober, and I think I might keep it that way. Kellie and I went to see an open mic show yesterday at Oasis on College and I paid a lady named Maria $20 for a cd she made at home drunk because I loved her song Sleeping with the Devil so very very much. It's blues-y and she's got an amazing deep rumbly voice that breaks out into the clearest soprano you've ever heard. It's quite amazing.

Anyway, I'm sorry this isn't a real post. =( I'll write more when I can...

The Night I Fell in Love with Interpol

2005-09-05T08:53:00.000-07:00

I arrived at Olivier's gallery at around 10:30/11 and I don't recognize anyone. Not a single person. This doesn't happen very often and I when I do go out on my own I usually go to Zen or Velvet where there are bound to be a few familiar faces, but last night there was no one. After my first reaction which was panic, I tried to chill and I knew I couldn't leave without at least saying hi to Olivier first. Furthermore, it was my last night out before I go back to school, and after Benito's much appreciated words of encouragement, I really wanted to make a night of it.

They had a small bar and only one bathroom where the toilet didn't flush properly. The DJ played Indian, African and reggae jazz (he gets records sent to him from India and Africa), and at first there were two people dancing. Then there were three, four, six, ten, the dance floor filled up faster than any I've ever seen at a private party. And these people could really dance - there was an equal number of boys and girls and they grooved together to the music. Some were obviously professional dancers, but the rest were just really cool dancers. They danced with abandon and flair, and there was no crowd of catty people laughing at anyone. The vibes were so good and strong it was palpable, and soon I was groovin' along with them.

For most of the night, Olivier was running around keeping things cool. He watched the front entrance a lot and made sure no one was out there with drinks or drawing unnecessary attention to this underground, private affair. He also brought out a small film projector that played a black and white snippet of some African women dancing. His studio was cleaned out - all his paints and equipment, all those half finished pieces and unstretched canvases were tucked away somewhere, and the place was lit up with beautiful red lanterns that the DJ made himself.

I met so many people last night - a guy named Ryan was doing "security" at the door watching the smokers and he rapped some of his rhymes to me some of which were like pick-up lines for chicks, and others were witty social commentaries; Bruce was a day-time paper pusher at some investment firm, and at night composed musical scores for movies, he was a good dancer and a really sweet gentlemen - I forgot that they still existed out there; a guy with shaggy hair I can't remember his name, but he introduced me to "everyone" and he told me where he and his friends all hang out and invited me to go see them soon in Kensington Market - I really wish I hadn't forgotten his name!!!; a girl named Yazmin who used to be an artist, who became a biologist and then started teaching English in different countries and is now trying to get back in touch with her creative side - she didn't believe in coincidences and now neither do I; a girl named Dina or Tina who kind of runs the parties in Kensington who has the sweetest face in the world I even drew a picture of her when I got home with a big black curly almost-afro but fluffier and dimples and black eyes who told me I was beautiful; Yohedha was there again all decked out in an old British paper-boy hat (it has a real name, but I can't remember) with a brown suit and a one of those pastel plaid ties that only a handful of people on earth can get away with tied in a Windsor knot, and he drew a picture of me while we shared the joint I brought; and then there were people I just danced with who are smiling shadows in my memory who twisted and grooved to the music in that hot humid dance floor.

It was like I stepped into a dream. When I woke up this morning, sprawled on the couch with Peaches in my robe, I thought how easily it really could have just been a dream. The people were so nice and friendly and generous and beautiful and unique, they couldn't be real, not in this harsh, judgemental world of ours. There were a lot of Signs last night - Signs that I'm on the right path, that I'm making the good life choices. Ever since I decided to dedicate some of my time to my creativity, life has been sweeter that I could have possibly imagined. Even as I write, there is a protest/parade for the CBC locked out workers who have the drums going and the music blaring and it's like the party hasn't ended. Maybe it never has to end?

Everything that happened last night seemed to be like part of a well-planned movie. I got there, and it was scary. I overcame my fear and was welcomed into a circle of friends. It would have been a little too lovey dovey if it weren't for when I was trying to say goodnight to Olivier that things got interesting.

I approached him as he was talking intimately to a girl sitting on the bar. She was beautiful with big mermaid eyes and a scarf wrapped over her hair. I said something like, "Hey, I just wanted to say bye and..." and he said something like, "Meet blahblahblah..." I can't remember that girls name and he was mumbling anyway so I have no idea. She kind of pulled a switcheroo on me where she grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "Stay here and I'll entertain you til he comes back." He ran away without even meeting my eye! It was very bizarre and I was getting bad vibes from this chick. I told her I just wanted to say goodnight, and she said, "Oh" and started going on about how much she loved a particular one of Olivier's painting - a paint mosaic of a woman's face on a long flat piece of wood - and she said, "I love it. I'm going to buy it." So I said, "OK..." as in What else do you want me to say? And then she just suddenly turned around and started talking with the bartender like I wasn't there. I literally backed away and the whole encounter left me so baffled, I didn't even say goodbye to "everyone" because I was still trying to work out what had happened.

Maybe I watch too many movies, but she was acting like the jealous girlfriend. And Olivier was acting sketchy too because he usually has excellent manners, it wasn't like him (not that I know him THAT well, but manners are something you can tell about a person right off the bat) to just run off like that when I was trying to talk to him. Anyway, whatever it was she thought, she was totally intimidating and it was so perfect because I think I could have walked out that party with an inflated ego and a naive optimism that life was perfect, but instead I was very bluntly reminded that there are still people out there who are petty and catty and that there are still girls out there who can make me feel like a teeny tiny insect begging not to get stepped on.

Whatever fears that girl had about me and Olivier are totally unfounded anyway. So far I've only really seen him as a mentor. We vibe off things he knew back when and the things I know now. When I look at him, I see someone who has been my age twice, which doesn't mean anything except that he's had twice as much experience as me. Besides, as soon as I got home, I started to miss Ryan a lot and wished that he had been with me to this great party. I looked for Piper at the Gates of Dawn to put on while I winded down for the evening (at 3:20 a.m.), but Ryan didn't have it on his computer and I didn't want to listen to our LP without him, so I put on - Interpol.

I do have an Interpol t-shirt that I got at their last show in Toronto, but I mostly bought it because it's a great t-shirt (albeit small!). I liked their music, but something in it always eluded me. Last night, as I sat there alone with Peaches in the middle of the night after having had more fun than I've ever had sober (well, except for pot), Interpol was like angel's music. The lead singer's voice is so awesome a little like a lounge singer and the music is so so good and I felt like I could listen to it forever. The whole evening had this timeless feeling to it with the red lantern light and the trippy jazz and everyone dressed in everything from hippie to vintage, and people lounging on sofas sipping drinks and laughing and people dancing without restraint. Alone with a dog and Interpol after all of that gave me a second wind. It also made me realise that if it weren't for Ryan, I wouldn't have any of it.

I wouldn't have the computer hooked up to the TV, I never would have gone to see Interpol, I wouldn't have a dog, I wouldn't have this cozy apartment to go home to, I wouldn't have had the confidence to take dance lessons, and I never would have had the inspiration to start painting. Well, I might have gotten some of those things eventually, but the difference between my life now and my life before I met Ryan is so vast. He supports me in all my little whims and he keeps me safe. I owe my beautiful life to him and isn't that a sobering thought?

Spirit of Idea Sharing

2005-09-04T07:52:00.000-07:00

I didn't get a chance to go to the Island or go watch March of the Penguins yesterday. I stopped by a friend's art gallery/studio/home yesterday, Olivier, and I got caught up talking with the people who were there: Allan, an older British gentleman hair stylist, and Yehodha, a Jewish painter who looks a LOT like Adrien Brody but he wears thick black round rim glasses and when we talks to you, his mind moves so fast that you feel like you're being taken on a mental ride because he's throwing all kinds of information at you and everything makes sense, but he does it so fast you don't even have time to digest what he says, you just follow him around and when he's finished, he looks at you through those big circle glasses and you agree. That's all you can do. Allan is a sweet old guy with all this wonderful British charm that you just want to take him out for a pint and let him entertain you all night. Olivier does not seem his age, he seems completely ageless with this boundless energy that keeps him moving from place to place, he likes to fiddle with things like his turn table and play psytrance in the middle of the night and loud but he can because he doesn't live in a residential neighbourhood. And you kind of have to listen to psytrance loud, I think, to feel the vibrations of the bass. He's got this cat that's a psycat because she doesn't run away from the music as you'd think a cat might do because it is rather overwhelming, even to human ears, but she loved it. She would just lie there and you can watch her eyes glaze over and her tail switch just off beat to the music and next thing you know, she's on her back with her little feet up in the air and she's tripping out so luxuriously, I couldn't help but wish that I could be her just for the night and be a psycat too.

Anyway, I was there pretty much all night, surrounded by paintings and art people, who don't really talk a lot about art, but they never stop talking about ideas. Everything becomes a subject and every subject is worth at least a 10 minute discussion. I guess some people would call it mindless, but after a night of pretty intense talking, my mind feels so relaxed. I feel like I don't have to think about anything at all except what I'm going to have for breakfast. I think the mind needs to be exercised by this kind of stimulation, at least every once in awhile. These people don't talk about books or movies or TV, they talk about how things work, they talk about society, different societies, and cause and effect and proportion and behaviour and all these things that maybe we're too busy to think about let alone talk about, but they make time for it. And it may not have a lot of relevance to every day life, but it does because it's stuff we see around us all the time.

I guess I'm a little infected by it, just from the way I'm writing, I can tell I've been swept up in the whole spirit of idea sharing. It will die down after awhile, and I'll be back to my old self, not to say I don't like that self, because I do, but it's nice to feel a little different once in awhile. I feel like my brain has been charged up and I can take on any kind of mental and physical task because it's all just energy. This afternoon, after I've had some exercise and eaten something, I will start painting. And if I'm done before 10 p.m. tonight, I'll be going back to the gallery for a real artsy fartsy party where I'll be surrounded by artists and god knows what I'll do or say, but it's terribly exciting for me because this may be my last chance to be around really creative people before I go back to school and have to deal with those so-called "creative advertising" assholes who think they can think outside the box, but really they just invented themselves an even bigger box to think inside.

The SOUND of Silence

2005-09-03T08:26:00.000-07:00

I survived the first night without Ryan. Not without its costs, though. When I got home, my restlessness inspired me to mop the floor at the door and in the kitchen. I did all the dishes. I cleaned the coffee table. The only thing that was going to help me relax and sit down was pot. I know this from experience. And so, I smoked and smoked and smoked, watched The Wedding Crashers and Alfie (both movies I know Ryan wouldn't mind missing). I ate a lot of garbage including 3 soft boiled eggs over the course of the evening because in my pot-induced stupor, that sounded really tasty. I slept on and off throughout the night and finally crawled into bed at 6:45 a.m. I woke up with a sore stomach from the eggs and now I'm waiting it out til I make myself some breakfast and go out for the day. There's Bedouin Sound Clash in the background and my dog is under my chair licking my foot.

Dolly Parton was amazing. We had middle-section seats next to a very old couple - the lady of which fell asleep near the beginning of the show, sleeping soundly on the boney old shoulder of her husband who undoubtedly only came because of is wife. It was a great show - Dolly is a gifted artist and a talented performer. She played everything from the banjo to the harpsichord and she sang a mix of her old classics as well as some covers from the 60s and 70s. She has such a beautiful voice that I seriously wanted to cry during her performance of I Will Always Love You. When you watch Whitney Houston sing the same song, you're expecting her to drop dead from the strain in her voice, but when Dolly does it, it's so effortless and pure. She ended her encore with a cover of John Lennon's Imagine in light of the world's current political and environmental situation. I know it's cheesey, but a. it's Dolly! and b. maybe there's a reason why so many artists feel the desire to cover that song. It's undeniable that it's a beautiful song. It's a song that has meaning and is essentially timeless. Maybe people want to sing that song because they want to continue to move people with that message. I hope in 30 years, I'll still hear new bands cover Imagine. Cheesey as it may be, it's one of my all-time favourite songs.

So today is my shopping day. I'm going to buy myself some new glasses and some school supplies. I'm going to sit at a café somewhere and read. I'm going to go to The Bloor Cinema to watch The March of the Penguins. I might even visit Olivier at his gallery. I'm looking forward to a day to myself, and really it's the night I dread when Ryan is not next to me while I sleep.

Island in the Sun

2005-09-01T08:46:00.000-07:00

Laura is gone. Trashed, deleted, disappeared. Hopefully we will never see her again. I'm sure though, that there are other zip files out there containing similar content. A zip file named Mr. Oizo or Titanic that some unsuspecting downloader out there will open and find "lucy" or "sara" or "kate". Do pedophiles out there KNOW which zip files have the goods they want? Is there some kind of secret directory where they can be like, "Ohhhhhh... search for Season 4 of Rosie and get 500 pics of sweet little Angela..."?

I'm suspicious of people who say they get uninvited porn spam. I've had Internet access (and e-mail addresses) since I was 12 and I have never received a single piece of pornographic spam. I get them at work, but never in my private inboxes. I know that the chances of someone getting uninvited porn spam is pretty slim unless you're the kind of person who would sign up for fake contests and shit online or if you visit porn sites. And so when I see little church ladies in Kansas getting all outraged about their two year old seeing porn spam on their computers, well, that's their own fault for not protecting their e-mail addresses. Besides, what kind of two year old is checking e-mail anyway? (I didn't make up the 2 year old bit either, I really did get a spam complaint about that.)

That's why I never believed that there are any real unsuspecting victims out there. And maybe I'm just de-sensitized to porn, but e-mails about discount Viagra and penis enlargers are as easy to ignore (and just as annoying) as e-mails about investment banking and mortgage rates. Usually the porn doesn't pop up until you click the links in your e-mail, right? I'm not sure, I never open that shit. But my point is, I never believed in unsuspecting spam victims, but after finding "laura" in my Mr. Oizo zip file, I can understand why people get so upset. Ryan and I had a long rant about it last night in the kitchen, and I guess there are people out there who really are innocent victims of Internet porn.

There are advertisements downtown now for girls 18+ at "adult" massage parlors. The incentive: DAILY CASH! And this was seen on the side of one of our giant OMG garbage cans in billboard form. Since when did the city start encouraging adult massages? I'm not opposing the advertisements, after all, a girl's got to make a buck somehow... so I guess I'm really griping about how tacky it is. Why does the adult entertainment business have to be so damn tacky?

Anyway, enough about porno and all that shite. I've got a long weekend coming up and tomorrow is my last day of work! Which means I start school again on Monday, and I don't know how I feel about that. A really good friend of mine from school has decided not to go back (and in fact got a job at Saatchi & Saatchi) so class will become substantially less fun. I just want to get it all over with so I can have the certificate and start looking for a Real Job. I don't know what I want to do yet.

Tonight, Ryan and I are going to see Dolly Parton at the amphitheatre. I only recently started getting into Dolly after watching a bio on her on TV. I know that's cheesey, but her life has been an amazing journey, and I think it would be a shame to miss a legend like her.

Tomorrow, Ryan leaves for Regina and won't be back til Monday. I'm sad, but I know I'll have a good time by myself. I plan on going to The Island on Saturday (weather permitting) with a nice fat joint and my books and maybe a sketch pad. I wish I had an iPod! But I think the water, the sun, the trees and the distant gaggle of tourists will be music enough to my ears.