*Shane, see below

This is an outrage. I just watched an episode of 'Breaker High', this cheesy Saved By The Bell type teen show. The premise of the show centers around a group of highschool students touring the world on their cruise-ship classroom. That enough should speak plenty about the quality of the show, but today's episode really got my goat (dun touch the Bao-goat plz!)

It seems as if every port-of-call is an excuse for the producers to push stereotypes. When they were in Egypt, it was all about pyramids, falafels and sand, with hardly a technological advance in sight (yah right!). When they went to Italy, it was a fashion show. When they went to Mexico, there were these scary-ass gypsies who played guitar. I admit, not all of the stereotypes were offensive, but when you consider the opportunity that the premise of the show offers for educating kids about world culture, it just seems lazy.

Anyway, in today's show, they visited CANADA.

First things first: for some unfathomable reason, the kids on the ship were going to play HOCKEY against some of the local Canadian kids.

*American Boy from ship falls down on ice. Looks up to see Beautiful Canadian Girl standing over him*

Beautiful Canadian Girl: 'The ice is slippery, EH?'
American Boy: *says something funny*
Beautiful Canadian Girl: *titter; giggle* 'Yar right funny, EH? If ya wunt to goo aroond the island, I kin shoo yoo aroond.'

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.

Notice she said 'island', meaning that these people were from Prince Edward Island. Now that sticks in my craw, because everyone knows that if you're dealing with Prince Edward Islanders, you're dealing with some of the most ABNORMAL people in Canada. Why couldn't the cruise ship pull into Toronto's harbour instead? There, you would have seen the normal, URBAN Canadian people, who don't wear ski sweaters with snowflakes on them. But no, they chose Prince frikkin' Edward Island. And now, we all look like gumps.

Isn't it really the LIFE when you can sit around and rant about life's trivialities? =P

*I think it quite disturbing that you find ferrets distractingly adorable. I mean, goats, donkeys, pigs--that's all fine. But ferrets? You nasty freak. And speaking of the sun setting into the earth, I kinda wish it would just set into your face and burn that wide, evil smile the hell off of it =)
Hugs and, in the words of another famous Kam Yinnite, 'Muahz!!!' -Teresa

O Mother Where Art Thou



After living off of protein bars and sausages for over a week, I decided to cook for myself today. I craved boiled chicken with scallions and ginger (don't scrunch your nose at me--it's good!)

I put the chicken into the boiling water and when it turned a yummy shade of beige, I took it out and proceeded to cut it into strips. As my knife pierced the skin, a bright red liquid trickled out. Argh. Back into the pot you go, chicken. I waited another 10 minutes, took it out and cut into it again. Oh my, but you are stubborn, chicken. Third time, same result. The fourth time: Oh, chicken, you'd better be done...but you're a good chicken, so I KNOW you will have cook--what the fuck?? That's it, you motherclucker, it's time to get nasty. You WILL surrender clear juices to me. That's right, I'm going to nuke the shit out of you.
So here I sit, balancing a steaming bowl of rice and chicken on my lap. It's burning the insides of my thighs, but I don't care. The chicken is cooked.

Proof of (No) Life

Earlier today, I had the sudden urge to listen to "Can I Get a.." by Jay-Z. So I pulled up Morpheus and plugged the song title into the search field. Several viable options came up, so I haphazardly clicked on a few and selected 'download'. Some of the them fizzled and never even connected, but when all was said and done, two of them were going strong at 24-27 kb/s. They were pretty much neck and neck at 2 min 40 s and 2 min 34 s to completion respectively. I watched as one pulled ahead by 30 seconds, only to drop back behind as the download speed dipped to 12.11 kb/s....it was a nail-biter until the end, but "X Jay-z-Can I get a Fu-Q.mp3" was victorious.

Ladies and gents, I have found the internet's answer to live horse racing. I'm downloading "Alone" by the Beegees next. Place your bets now:

1) "The Beegees - Alone.mp3"

2) "The Beejees - A lone.mp3"

3) "Beejeeze - Alone.mp3"



Having a life is overrated.

Well, that didn't last very long, did it? Last fall, I committed myself to growing my hair long...excessively long...eccentrically long. Well, last week, in the ultimate display of spontaneity and capriciousness, I lopped it all off. Back to square one. Rest in peace, ye shiny locks of hair that once hung from me noggin.

As is always the case when I get my hair cut, there were dramatics. I went first to Stylist A. I flipped through a hair design book and pointed out to her what I wanted: a face framing angled bob with long layers and textured ends. She nodded in total comprehension and led me to her chair. She gave me a BLUNT, STRAIGHT, above the shoulder bob. To add, she used a small-barrelled curling iron on the ends when she styled it, when obviously a big barrelled iron would have been a better choice. It looked like I had friggin' kinks in my hair. Well, it was fifteen minutes to closing, so I said nothing, paid, and walked out.

I headed to Stylist B the very same night in hopes that she would be able to fix my hair. Admittedly, she came closer to the mark:

At least she texturized the ends and gave me layers. When I went in to work, however, people were horrified when they saw the back: there was a weird 'hole' in the back...and one at the side too! ARGH!

The next day, I went back to Stylist B and asked her to fix my problems. She tried. I came out of there with an even nastier haircut.

In desperation, I took the advice of a co worker, who recommended a Vietnamese store downtown. $15 a cut. I was skeptical and hesitant, and rightly so--it turned out to be a stanky run down place in the worse part of the city core. When I walked in, there was a gang of young asian doods sprawling in the waiting area. Two of them were getting the hardcore haircut: long front, shaved back. Blech. Stylist C looked at me and told me to take a seat. She finished up with the azn dood and motioned me over her chair. It was still covered in his greasy-ass hair! And I looked down at the floor and realized that there was probably five haircuts worth of hair collecting down there. I bit my lip and sat down. She didn't even Barbicide her comb before she used it on me (not that it would have helped..I bet you that it was just water mixed with blue food colouring). I told her to 'straighten out' my hair....and she took my cool, albeit flawed, cut and

turned it into ......

When I asked a friend what he thought of my haircut, he said this:

"So, when are you picking up the kids from soccer?"


As I turned and walked away from him in indignation, he followed up with

"Where are the keys to the Windstar?!!"


*SIGH* Four haircuts later, and I'm a suburban housewife.

Monday, we headed up to Toronto again, with a plan of exploring the harbourfront. We were both so sleep-deprived, though, that when we got there and found parking, we opened the windows and the sun roof and napped in the parking lot. We then roused ourselves and took a little walk around. We decided to hop the ferry to Centre Island. When we got to the island, we found a picnic table in the middle of a lush little grassy area...and napped again. Then we walked around a bit before deciding to catch the ferry back to the city. On the ferry back, we napped yet again =)

Throughout the whole day thus far, my strapless dress had been bothering me (if we were going to be doing a lot of walking, I didn't want to be wearing a short dress that was liable to fall down to my knees at any moment). we headed to the Eaton Centre so I could buy a new outfit. I swear, I hate being short. I couldn't find one single pair of pants that had the right inseam (30"). So out of exasperation, I bought a pair of shorts and a white tee from Club Monaco. I just slipped it on in the changeroom, ripped out the tags and walked to the check out. The girl scanned the tags and asked me if anyone had removed the metal theft prevention strips sewn into the seams of my clothes. Argh. At that point, I was very impatient and ill-humoured, so I didn't bother to go back into the changeroom and have them removed. I threw propriety to the wind, and exhibiting that carelessness that manifests itself in people visiting a city in which they do not live, proceeded to feel myself up and pat myself down at the register. I stuck one hand up the leg of my shorts and the other one down my shirt, and yanked them out triumphantly. I was instantly in a better mood after taking care of the clothing issue. Phew.

We proceeded for a walk down 'Yonge St', which is pronounced 'young', but which Chris pronounced 'Yunj', as in rhymes with 'sponge' or, at one point, 'yon-gay'. What a nerd. As we walked along, we noticed a lot of cute little Chinese girls walking past us sipping on boba tea. We instantly craved some, so we decided to go hunt for the bubble tea store. We used our fantastic powers of logic and deduction...(this is verbatim)

Me: Did you see that? That girl had boba tea too!
Chris: Hmmm...yes, it was about three quarters done...
Me: So I estimate that with this heat and her pace of walking, that the bubble tea store is 2 blocks down Yonge.
Chris: She was chubby.
Me: Make that half a block.

We finally found a boba store and drowned our cravings in a red bean milk tea and a passion fruit icey. We sat on a bench watching people walk back and forth as we sipped our drinks and then...we napped. By the time we woke up, it was too late to beat commuter traffic, so we ate at Lee Garden in Chinatown. I went there once before, but the line to get a table was lonnnnnnng, but lemme tell ya, the wait is worth it! Very good food, and for chinatown, it's clean as hell.

We then left the city, and I, as the drivee, had the luxury of napping on the ride home, while he pointed just about every vent in the car at his face, turned the icey air conditioning on and drove my ass back to Kitchener. Driving is overrated =) Over the weekend, I had been mentioning to him that I wanted to try those strawberry tarts they advertise for Tim Horton's on TV (I'm such a sucker for ads). I awoke as I felt the car turn sharply..he was taking me a-tarting! It was sweet of him to remember =) So we had a little tea and dessert at Tim Horton's before heading back to the hotel. There, we curled up in bed and watched NYPD blue together. Life's simple moments are the best, don't you think?

Sunday was a textook 'lazy Sunday'-- we spent the morning and the better part of the afternoon lazing about in bed. At around 4, we got up and decided to eat an early dinner at the best Chinese seafood restaurant in town. Mmmm...satay chicken on pan fried noodles....shrimp, scallops and squid in garlic and chili...we ordered so much food, and finished about a quarter of it!

After that, we took a walk through Victoria Park, which is a very quaint little park near downtown Kitchener. It has ducks, gazebos, little bridges over water...the whole bit. The bad thing about this park is its location near the downtown area, which is home to scuzzy drunks and street kids. So it's not uncommon to walk along a trail and see a pair of legs sticking out from underneath the bushes, or to catch the smell of sweet smoke wafting from a picnic table crowded with grubby kids. I once caught two people getting really heavy with each other. The guy had his arm shoved up the girl's shirt to his friggin' elbow. Yeah, real subtle, dood. Anyway, it was a perfect day for a walk...it was warm and sunny and we came upon a family of ducks! Look at the littluns!

As night fell, we went back to the hotel and watched TV in bed. We watched the Blair Witch Project on the Space Channel. It really is a good movie, I don't know what happened with Book of Shadows. Blockbuster owes me 5.75 or allowing me to rent that pieceashit movie.

When I got back home, I was in for a shock. You see, my mother doesn't know that I have a boyfriend. I've been using the lameass excuse that 'the Chinese Student's Association needs me to help host a big event'. I know, I know...I'm Viet, not Chinese, but then again, I'm also part of the Hindu Movie Club. So back to my story...I walk in acting all tired 'Oh mother, they worked me like a horse..I had to set up so many decorations...' and then she says 'Really? Well, if you're hungry, I got us some take out from that good Chinese seafood restaurant.' I managed to smile very painedly and say 'Oh, really? What time were you there?' 'Oh, about 2 or 3'. If we had dragged our asses out of bed earlier, we would have run into my mother--and, as my friend would say, 'royal shit would hit the fan'. I thank the Lord that Chris and I are two such lazy bitches.

Chris came for a visit this weekend =D

Saturday

He picked me up in the AM and we headed to the University plaza to get some coffee. I was nervous and shy--we hadn't seen each other in months! Everytime I looked at him, he would stare into my eyes with this amused expression on his face. It flustered me to the point where I had to make a conscious effort to swallow my drink without drooling. Reunions always have their awkward beginnings =)

After a little rest at the hotel, we went to Toronto. We hit Spadina first to take in T.O.'s chinatown. It was hardly a romantic stroll in the park, but it was cool in its own right... people shoving you out of the way to get at the 3 for $5 mangos, the excited chatter as whole gaggles of families peruse the produce displays, the olfactory delight that only chinatowns can effect (think fresh seafood, dried seafood, herbs n' spices and rotting produce--in a word: pungent!). Chris bought some mangos and we picked out some pastries from a little Japanese pastry shop. I was so excited because they had Curry Beef buns, just like I've seen in the Ranma 1/2 mangas.

After that, we headed over to the CN tower where we had reservations for 8:30. The food was alright, but it definitely took a backseat to the beautiful view of the city and the company of my main squee-ee-eeeze =D It must have been couple's night--we were seated between two other couples who also looked to be in the beginning stages of their relationships. It was like they were trying to out-do each other: touching, carressing, smiling in the most disgustingly sappy way at each other between bites of food...*cringe* And then there's Chris and me in the middle of all this, him leaning back in his seat and chewing and me sawing at my prime rib while I babble on about nothing in particular. We have our moments, of course, but I guess we're a little more private. At least we weren't as bad as the middle-aged asian couple in front of us. They both looked out the window for abnormally long periods of time while maintaining a silence between themselves that made me want to run over there and scream 'For the love of God, TALK!' Every once in a while, the woman would cast a very un-amused eye around the establishment while running her tongue over her teeth. To their credit, the man did manage to say something at one point that made her smile. It was probably 'I'm out of Viagra'.

I'll continue this later...

I've been waiting around for my winter term marks ever since classes let out at the end of April. I logged onto the student information system today, and final marks were finally up!

I failed a course. I passed another by 2 marks. If the dean's list was New York, I'd be in Taipei. Yes, it's that bad.

It wouldn't be such a catastrophe if this was to be the heart and core of my university education. I could just redo the courses and complete my degree. But my program is a stepping stone into professional schools. My failure has a certain gravity to it because I'm essentially in competition with thousands of other students (argh) for those coveted offers of admission. Now I've gone and jeopardized my admittance into the school of optometry, med school,...even pharmacy. Nobody's gonna want a pieceashit student like me and I'll be stuck at Waterloo completing a good-for-nothing-except-getting-into-professional-school-but-I-won't-cos-I'm-an-idiot Honours Science degree, and I'll live with my mom for the rest of my life, and I'll never get to visit Italy, and I'll never have sex, and I'll never get food poisoning from a New York city hot dog vendor with sweaty pits and large pores, and one day I'll get bitten by a mosquito on both of my eyelids and I'll wander blindly out into the street and get run over by a city bus full of young, fresh faced university students who are not, i repeat are not idiots. dz'gdk'gh!'zse'kgrd'kjgfd'!!!! *regains composure* *AHEM*. So...uh..I think I'll go stick my head in the freezer for a while...say 'what's up' to the butterball turkey, get chatty with the slabs of frozen beef. Gotta clear my head.