Me at Work

How do people actually find these crazily cute animals?


Boredom is a real kicker when you look at statistical numbers all day. I sent out a test fax the other day to myself and addressed it to 'Poopoohead'.

Drag On

I hate my job.
Mostly because it really bores the crap outta me and I'm starting to get carpal tunnel in my wrist from clicking on the mouse too much from all this compiling I have to do.
I guess this disdain really stems from alot of factors.
Such as, my dislike for the working environment. I sit in a poorly lit space that numbs the tips of my fingers and toes whenever it rains or snows and that silly little heat fan does no wonders for me. People, especially the boss get to eavesdrop on all my conversations and talks to me about it at times. He also pushes for all these deadlines which I have to meet and nudges me when I am not able to meet them even when I have to stop from doing my work whenever they interrupt me to do something else, when there is a power outage (this happens alot) and the computer is really slow.
Lastly, I sit in someone's house which is pretty old - therefore the bad insulation and I don't get to interact much with people at all. Since the company comprises of only 4 people myself included.

Thank god I have another job waiting for me after I quit this one. I'm soooo looking forward to it because its so much more related to what I want to do in the future compared to this stupid marketing job I have now, geeez....
Can't wait, this Friday I hand in my resignation letter.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Every so often, when I do manage to find some spare time (I lie. This happens quite frequently.), you'd find me wondering the myriad of streets that embody this city I reside in, Vancouver.




Awhile back, I was in my favourite little toy and t-shirt store, erratically flipping through t-shirts on the rack in hopes of finding some print that will greatly amuse me, when I stumbled upon one that sneakingly stole my attention.
I gazed at it for a few moments, in my best ability to discern the message it was trying to converse and its implications. It depicted a typical image of Jesus Christ, a rather bright yellow halo beaming from his head, with other aspects idiosyncratic to the 'Crucifiction'. Surrounding him were the British police, with their tall helmets strapped to their chins and clutching his arms while one obscured his genitals with another tall helmet, escorting him away.
Most of these t-shirts, plainly with its caricatures convey limited information on their own. It is therefore solely the responsibility of the title to reconcile the image with its association and meaning. This particular t-shirt's title was : JC was a Streaker

A female mind in its full process is quite a peculiar thing in stark comparison with a male mind. A torrential flood of ideas and opinions can literally generate and power a streamliner of non-linear reveries, as Wanda Sykes can attest to. As I sat in the car on the way back home, oddly I thought about this shirt. I can attribute my lingering afterthoughts of this shirt to my Christian roots as a supposition. My parents in their good nature brought my sister and I up with staunch Christian teachings and as a weak-willed child, I have attended a more than good enough number of church camps, meetings and events which literally bored me. Now as a grown-up, I do not steadfastly stand on a declaration that I detest Christianity nor am I an atheist. I however choose to believe the Bible's teachings as a rough guide to one's life, not to be taken into exact literal consideration, a displeasure to my parents whom with an extent of certainty of mine share close resemblances to Christian fundamentalists.

For one, that shirt conjured up no particular interest in me and so I casually flipped it over in search of better prints. But as I sat in the car thinking about this shirt, I asserted that if that person standing there in my place was my father, he would have brought his complaints to the proprietor and give an ill-favoured lecture on respect for religion, this I am sure. And this is my main point. Perhaps in the eyes of my parents, their offspring have wondered into the dark side, risking shame as a backslided Christian. But standing at this spot has enabled me a slight insight to non-Christians' and atheists' perspective, how they interpret the teachings of Christianity.

Non-Christians and especially atheists probably view religion as archaic and irrelevant. An opium for the masses when poverty still engulfed the majority, technology in its many dimensions awaited its evolution and a device for controlling (or some might say 'uniting') the population. So it especially baffles them that people living in the modern world, enjoying its many freedoms, conveniences with the abundance of scientific theories to disprove the existence of God, still put their trust in an inexplicable but supposedly ubiquitous and powerful entity. Rewind back to a hundred more years or so, the majority of populations in the Western world could be found consistently sitting in pews in church on Sunday mornings. As with time and evolvement with changes, the amount of faithful church attendees have wittled down to what we commonly associate as a gathering of old people. What with the trend in burgeoning Islamic states, war-torn and inflicted with poverty, tending to a small flicker of hope for development, it is not too inconceivable to see why people might view religion especially its entrenchment with culture and state as having forbearance to economical growth, freedoms and development. Religion, and more seemingly Christianity are being put in bad light. News regarding Ted Haggard, pedophiliac priests abusing unknowing altar boys, and fundamentalist Christians allegations on soy milk as the CAUSE of HOMOSEXUALITY and even the history of Christianity - going back to The Crusades sometimes trouble me as I am harpooned with questions about these contradictory cases against my religion and my own. IS THIS WHAT CHRISTIANITY HAS COME TO?

Every Sunday morning many many years ago, my family would pack into the small car we had and drove for 45 minutes to the church we attended. My sister in her white dresses, with a big hair-do sitting next to me while she layered pale blue eyeshadow onto her eyelids while I fidgeted with the frock I wore usually with a tulle underlayer and a bow ribbon behind my back - which always untied itself after I ran and climbed in the playground of the church. You'll be surprised, but I actually liked going to Sunday school and I reveled in wonder at all the bible stories that we were taught, my favourite being 'Ruth and Boaz'. We were taught that Jesus Christ was most loving and kind, no matter what your sin with repentance immediately entitled you forgiveness and most of all, He was a friend - someone whom you could confide in with full discretion. As the sultry south-eastern Asia days passed and we got taller, we were told the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, taught of Jesus' consuming wrath and intolerance towards man's sin, taught consequences, taught to fear God. In my mind, this has always been a particular paradox. To love God because he loved you and would forgive your sins but also not to submit to sin in the first place due to His acrimonious anger. Isn't it peculiar in a way - God hates sin but loves the sinner?

The etymology of the word science delivers definitions being: "to separate from one another, to distinguish" and "to cut, to divide", just to name a few. Some might interpret it as "to question", and that is the divider in itself. It seems that hoards of people believe that religion requires unquestioning faith, that a true-believer must banish doubt to oblivion. But the absurdity of it all is that if anyone who had intelligence of sorts would learn that the key to all knowledge begins with questioning. This makes fools out of believers. I have a theory of my own which I live by:

If there was a God and if he did create Man from his own image, he made us if not the most intelligent of all creatures. He gave us consciousness, self-awareness and most importantly, choice which differentiates us from all others. Undoubtedly, if we stand on the highest hierarchical level with respect to intelligence, we have the capability of questioning. Is it not through questioning that we find our purpose of existence - where religion draws its base from? So it should be that we are free to question religious teachings and beliefs in (at least) Christianity. If you wandered away and came back, your reinstatement would be of fuller vigor.

As I consider my father and as I sat in front of the tv watching the aggravated Muslims who torched the Norwegian and Danish embassies due to blasphemous publications of their revered prophet, I thought further: Were these acts of absolute necessity? Should we act against others' form of questioning? Any retort that resorts to physical violence surely shows some sign of uncivility. Surely, we are not living in those days of The Crusades? The one regret of the day is that acceptance of one another is still rather scarce.

To question - that is why I flipped over to another shirt without much ado as I stood in the store. I wonder, am I at a stop-over or am I at my destination?

And a One Horse Open Sleigh

Most people recently try to be politically correct by saying 'Happy Holidays' but I don't give a damn since the origins of this holiday period can be traced to Christianity. So here's wishes from an apathetic Christian,

Merry Christmas to you all! God Bless!

Hope you have achieved all your goals this year. No matter how this year has treated you, we can all say au revoir to it, not look back, and do it better in '07.

WooHOO!!

All my exams are over, in fact they were over on the 8th.
Its just a waiting game now, ugh... and the anticipation is killing me! I check my grades every damn day and somehow hoping that they're not published yet.

For the past 3 years, every semester before I drag my ass onto the "green mile" and into those dreadful exam halls, I faithfully jot down all the things I want to accomplish after my exams (an excuse not to concentrate on studying). Here is my hopeful last list:

THINGS TO DO:

• Plan the trip to Vegas and all the things you want to do daily.
• Get festive! Do lots of baking and decorating. Get cracking on that gingerbread house!
• Start training for the half-marathon.
• Find a job! Send out resumes like there's no tomorrow!
• Concentrate on doing the CSC. Read the books and do the quizzes
• Wash and clean 'Camelbak'. (You'd probably find this awfully gross since I haven't washed it the last time I used it in August.. hahahaha... but it says that the bladder is antimicrobial! C'mon!)
• Decorate my christmas tree.
  
• Do Christmas shopping! (I usually look forward to this event but not so much this year since I really should be earning my own money from now on. The only Christmas gifts I have gotten so far are for Dan - I'm still going to get something else for him too I think. *wink* - and an old lady whom I'm not really close to. One year, I gave all my immediate family members sweaters, how lame is that?!)
• Return book to Professor Harris - this guy never emails me back on when he wants me to drop off his book.
  

Decembre....

4 more days till my graduating paper is due.
Actually its 3 more days left but I like to count today as a day on its own, just to console myself...

I'm starting to think that the next couple of posts will be little snippets of my life that will document my last days till I graduate.
Guess what? There were 2 nights in a row where I only accumulated a total of 7 hours of sleep. I stayed up to finish off a paper on Economic Development: Alleviation of Poverty in Kenya, slept 3 hours and woke up to get to morning class.
You won't believe the amount of ache I had around my eyes from staring at the computer screen. Guess it was all the build-up of lactic acid. I drove to school and set in the parking lot for awhile till I had a pounding headache and felt like hurling. It was time to go. Drove back home and jumped into bed.
Wow... I work sooo well under pressure.

I didn't think the last semester would feel this bad. Maybe this is all just in my mind.

8 more days

Until school is over
and I just finished my last midterm last Thursday...
and I think I bombed my 2nd midterm on taxation...
how screwed am I?

Gone Wii Hunting!

11 more hours till the store opens...

Missed the premier of the Xbox360, missed the premier of the PS3, but I didn't care too much of those. I can't miss out on the premier of Nintendo's ultimate game console. THIS IS NO DOUBT THE EVOLUTION OF GAMING.
Some worries though: the motion sensors might not be very accurate to pick up your movements. Imagine playing 'Red Steel' and you wanted to slash your nemesis but it is just a second too late... you're dead.

I seriously hope there aren't other geniuses who thought of the same place as us. Boy I'd be pretty pissed if I couldn't get my hands on at least one of the four.
But obviously, if we could think of it, then others could too.... Should I get 2 instead? But there's not much profit for arbitrage. I'm not even sure if the Nintendo execs limited the supply like the execs at Sony did (which created anarchy).



I Am Sofa King Wii Todd Ed

Have Your Tissue Box Nearby !

I was caught off guard... this has got to be the cutest, saddest and most meaningful of all short animation clips I've seen, apart from Futurama's "Jurassic Bark" episode where I freakin balled my eyes out. Click here, scroll down to 'Futurama Season 5' and click on Jurassic Bark.

Changes

I'm bored with the way my blog looks. I'm testing out new templates and colour schemes right now. So forgive me if you do happen to go blind due to some crazy neon colors that might appear temporarily...

And You Thought I Finally Gave Up...

hell no, I haven't... good thing I wrote a disclaimer about blogging a few posts back. *WINK*


To keep you updated on the recent daily affairs of my life:

• my parents went to Hawaii for 11 days and I simply basked in unabashed glorious freedom in my house - I made a few delectable courses and ou d'oeuvres with the aid of Thomas Keller's guidance from his delightfully epicurean cook book The French Laundry.

• Dan has some temporary guests in his house - 2 wonderfully adorable WHITE GERMAN SHEPHERD PUPPIES! I have been smothered and snuggled to death with their endearments and cuteness. It's oddly surreal to see them grow substantially in length and weight and you will notice this when you lift them up, nestle them in your arms and embrace them. The creamy white fur of theirs are so soft. They are absolutely mischevious and playful, from licking and pawing at humans to bugging Rango, Dan's yellow lab retriever. See one of them here . Do not be fooled by their charming appearances, those 2 brothers have a strong tendency to be playfully ferocious (oxymoron?) with each other, biting at one anothers' necks. More pictures to come if Dan can successfully recover all his pictures which have been temporarily irretrievable due to the outtage caused by the damnable incessant rainfall/rainstorm we've been having here in British Columbia.

• I am finally GRADUATING this semester! My application is currently under review by the Senate. I can't believe its over...

• I watched BORAT last weekend and it is DOWNRIGHT HILARIOUS!(Have I gone Caps koo-koo?) The greatness of Sacha Baron Cohen is in his extremity and how he takes his Bruno, Ali G. and especially his Kazakhstani characters to higher levels almost without boundaries. His portrayals are near flawless. Sometimes I wonder how he or the Jewish community feel about him mocking his own culture and religious belief. I can't wait for his BRUNO movie!

• Come this December, Dan and I are heading to Vegas. Sin city is not exactly my number one choice in travel destinations since gambling and shopping are not my prior interests (any longer...) But in any case, its a great experience to see all these gargantuan man-made creations, and with all the neon lights makes a feast for the eyes and crazy Holga pics. You will most definitely see a cliche pic in future posts of the Fiori Di Como in the Bellagio and perhaps the notorious "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign. I've heard many things of the Bellagio buffet - ultimate buffet ever. I give myself 10 lbs standard deviation. By which Dan would leave me because I'm a fat ass.

Sources: Rotten Tomatoes

Most Hilarious Thing You'll see TODAY

Turtle Rape!

Kinda scary how he makes an almost human-like sound of (victory?)

Never seen a turtle move in such a motivated pace. Boy, I wished my terapins that I had when I was a kid could be as interactive. Gosh darn it, they were always in their shells when I picked them up in between my fingers...

A Day In A Life...

Rach is too lazy to blog so I'm going to entertain you....with photos! Photos of things and events Rach and I experience when we are together, followed by a short caption...because writing the amount Rach usually writes is way too time consuming and bring brain much pain. much much pain.

-Dan

Pets:





Wonderin' Around:
China Town, Vancouver



Food:This is a Japadog. The person who invented this is a genius.
P-Toro Ramen. There's nothing more addictive than this...

I forgot what this is called, but I'm sure Rach will do a blog about this place later.

Learnin':

CRAMPED

I've known this for quite some time now. Being in the state of denial for quite awhile, I've finally come to accept the fact:

Maintaining, upkeeping and cooking up good entries for a blog is HARD.


I know, I know... you probably think that this is another one of those excuse of a blog entry that apologizes for my recently sporadic visitations to my blog dashboard. It seems that I only have some arm's length involvement.


Well, what can I say? The ever so apologetic Allegro can only do what she must at this point of time, apologize. Sometimes when I do ever get so bored, I go to this blog. This stands as evidentiary support that a small-town girl from one of the smallest city-states in existence can become world-renowned in the blogsphere. I do understand that if you do not hail from south east asia, you will probably have a hard time understanding the lingo and colloquialism inherent in the area. You may need this , to demystify the jargon. After understanding what this lady(if I can call her that) talks about, you'll probably form some opinion that she is rather catty on all circumstances.


My point is: Her success can be contributed by a few reasons, some being that she provided a service in a timely manner, catching on to a fast and growing trend of blogging/surfing, her outspoken-ness (beit uncouth at times) her notoriety creating an upward surge and last but not least, her constant updating of her blog with key information of relevance. I have a good feeling she gets paid to be a blogger. But one pivotal question resonates:


Can a love be made into job and still be loved as much?


At times I imagine (did I tell you I love to dream?) if I had to be a resident writer to The Economist or Vogue, I'd probably slowly brew a resentment to my work. All that pressure to make deadlines and yet present works of art... inconceivable. Assuming 12 articles annually, there are bound to be some works of "rubbish" churned to meet a deadline. Although I'm not really supposed to say this, Commercialism takes the romanticism out of things.


I blog. I love to take opportunites to express myself. It's my sheepish way of having an alter-ego, preppy push-over Dr. Jekyll in the day, uninhibited admirable Mr. Hyde at dusk...
The greatest reason for it is because I can write whatever pleases myself and whenever I please. Isn't it wonderful to have freedom?


To anyone who's interested
Currently.

• Researching economic data for 20-page paper on finance
  
• Keeping up with readings
• Panicking about graduation
• Perfecting skills in the kitchen (hopeful graduation of cooking skills to culinary skills)
• Dragging big booty to the gym
• Consistently on the job-hunt
• Enrolling for the CSC

Be on the lookout for my rant: MY PARENTS ARE FUNDAMENTALISTS!

And so it begins...

Well, the 2 weeks have just whirled speedily past me and in my opinion it was a well-spent vacation. You might be expecting that I experienced something tremendously exciting or spectacular, but I did nothing of such. After combatting tumultuous times during exam period, my fantasy was simply to take refuge in the comforts of my home or his and attain 8 hours or more of REM sleep. It necessarily took 4 days to completely eradicate my sleep debt!
The path to relaxation requires that I hike up the Grouse Grind; spend time with my other half; hang out with girlfriends, have a day with dogs at the beach, hit the gym, have an insane amount of barbeque parties, and another day-trip to Seattle.


But of course, it is supposedly true that if anything is wonderful, it must cease to exist at some point, and in any case, I happily go back to my work feeling refreshed. I'm in a slight state of distress currently, seeing as it is my last semester at school even though it is to my knowledge that it will not be the absolute last. Graduation really frightens me. In the end, because I've spent all my life doing it, I've come to love reading, studying.



Random memory:


Isn't it peculiar how as one goes through life, life governed by nature, fate or a ubiquitous being rakes up something from your past?
This is one of those horrid eras of mine.
Quite probable that I'm 10 in that picture, standing on the left. I dreaded my elementary school life, almost every aspect of it. From the contemptible bitchy girls and snide remarks that sprung from their mouths, the squalid circumstance of the school giving it creepiness and perversity (hence countless of ghost stories), the distance it was from my home to the poor disappointing grades I acheived.
My dad came to pick me up that day and as I vaguely recall, I was asking this particular girl something and she gave me a usual rude response. Seeing that we were speaking he assumed she was a close friend of mine and told us to pose for a picture. Avoiding the possibility of ruining her squeaky-clean image she complied and I was told to put my arm around her for an effect.
I do not even remember what her name is.

Anomaly

Tonight is a quiet night. Its rather comforting to intermittently peel away from your other half and have some personal time to do your own thing, girly things such as shaving, plucking and waxing and some appreciated time sitting in bed reading a classic next to the bedlamp.


Feeling rather fidgety earlier on and unamused at the programs on the tele, I stumbled upon a reliable favourite of mine, something I can regularly depend on to entertain myself when nothing else is on (don't you realize yet that I'm a tv junkie?), good ol' Roseanne.


Do not be careless to think I go unpunished for my likings. I have been jeered at previously by Dan since a common undeserved early impression on this sitcom is rather grey: hickish and red-neck are the terms ordinarily used in its opinionated description. Is it reasonable for me to blame others, since the only 2 channels that still bear to air it are Prime and CMT (Country Music Television)?

The traces of personal tastes pertaining to the outback can only be effectually found on the dreary days of winter when I wear my cowboy boots. Similar to many fellow urban young adults, I do regard country music with an extent of disdain.


However, to my disappointment, I fear that most members of my age group fail to discern the value of this show. Other than journey down the timeline to comedy sitcoms concerning family life such as Leave it to Beaver or Father knows Best, Roseanne was a pioneering sitcom that aptly demolished those formal schemas to approaching family life. Riddance to those painfully stringent inapplicable rules to raising a family like those we once knew of when North America was still a good safe place and residents didn't necessarily have to lock up in their neighbourhood. Welcome satire, where parents need not be uptight, incessantly worried about their offsprings' future. Where parents and guardians can conceivably be light-hearted, sit back and laugh, strike up a joke or two. I recall watching it in my younger days and feeling so refreshed to their different angle and perspective on family life, half-cursing the circumstance of my family and asian culture, fantasizing that surely all North American families must have been liberal like theirs.


Lets not forget the chemistry that Roseanne Barr (her last name changed to Arnold during that period), John Goodman and their fictictious children have amongst each other. Recently, I watched a reunion of them on Larry King. To watch them foster warmth to each other, recalling memorable special episodes and singing 'inside' songs delighted me, seeing that colleagues can be amiable to each other. Quite dissimilar to the way Seinfeld characters relate to each other in reality.


Remember this?



Love the circular panning shot of the table.

Funny pictures

*Sniff* *sniff* Curiosity killed the dog
Don't eat meeeeeee....!


Turtle!

Cringe

Well, I can heave a sigh of relief now that all my grades have been published, and for one, I rather want to kill myself. It seems that my last race to considerably augment my marks have proven disappointing results. My talents can only reel in minute increments of improvements.
Fortunately, I still have one more semester and further of my adult life to accomplish gleaming results worthy of pride in my post-grad era. Ha. Ha. Ha.



On a happy note, I deserted all grievances and made a regrettable decision to plunge myself in hedonistic pleasures: Shopping and Useless chatter (euphemism for Gossip). How girlish.

• 11:57. Rolled over, slurped drool, peeked at clock. Holy shit. 1hr 3min to get ready, meet C.
• 1:20. Pulled into parking lot. Approached by man in a wheelchair, asking for money.
• 2:45. C and I arrive at our favourite street after getting distracted twice and forgetting to turn into our designated street. What useless chatter can do.
• 2:50. Got 53min of free parking on my spot. Such luck is glee.
• 3:16. Biting into glorious oraganic fare. Chickpea Masala, how could I have lived without you?
• 3:45. Shopping.C takes note of a multi-coloured unique blanket, pointing and exclaiming that its funny that her mom makes the same kind. A wedding dress catches my attention. The owner responds saying that its never been worn and we could cut it up to use it for material. The shop also contains commercial fishing tools. Peculiar.
• 3:52. Shopping. Perhaps I've walked into my favourite toy store too often. Owner flashes a knowing smile. I create a damage of a hundred dollars purchasing only 2 items. After initial delirous ecstacy, C finally buys the Johnny Cupcakes limited edition shirt she's been pining for. Oh the darkness of jealousy.
  
• 4:20. Shopping. Getting carried away. Incessant grabbing of one-of-a-kind clothes, accesories, standing in changing rooms, useless chatter of what makes good pairing of clothes. Acquisition of faux tortoise-shell sunglasses, a seagreen empire waist top and a seven-dollar scarf bearing french colours. Voila! Monetary grief. I've begun to develop an insatiable desire for vintage articles, fooling my naive self with the seemingly 'vintage' prices.
• 4:51. Shopping. Another vintage distraction. Beaded bags. Exquisite velvet teal shoes. Cream boots with embossed decorations of Pegasus' wings. Dainty beige stacked heels. My damnable size 8 clown-feet are laughable.
• 5:10. Mad rush to the car. Relief. Car is still in sight.
• 5:20. Drop off a gift at another vintage store. Shopping. Eyeing a cream-coloured clutch with delicate smooth suede lining. $14. Deterrence, since looking at shopping bags hanging off my pale circulatory-cut arms.
  
• 5:56. More useless chatter about people we know, people from school. Some guy who looks like he's 40 turns out to be 28. Confirmed by C. What revelation.

I'm upset by the frequency of pink.

BLEH.....

I'm not quite sure how to approach my situation.


4 exams that cover a tremendous amount of material and 2 exams on one day.
Surely, I'm going mad.


On a lighter note, I'll have 2 days to escape my surburban hell and have some R&R at the Sheraton Wall Centre and hopefully, mostly do my studying there. I sorta see it as if I have to write something magnificently brilliant and I'm going to the Hamptons for some inspiration.
Ha! Ideally, that's what I'd hope it would be, but knowing my sloth of a character and the attention span of 'W' Bush, not too surprising to see me galavanting all day long.

Mmmm.... swimming.


So, I won't be blogging much for a couple of days. Till the 15th.
I know.... how shameful of me to not have blogged for such a long period of time, and now, more nothingness.
Well, if I made a living in blogging, you'd see posts everyday and perhaps more than one a day, but for now, my livelihood is being a student.
I'll have some interesting posts to excite you with very soon. *wink*

Cirque Du Soleil: VAREKAI

3 words.

Astounding


Amusing


Enchanting

If it comes to your town, do go see it to free your mind!
Apologies for the lack in pictures for this is all I could get.