Tuesday, December 15, 2009

My three month recap

See, as I predicted in my first entry, I knew I wasn't going to stick with the blog.
But it wasn't that I grew out of it. I've overall stopped keeping track of what I do and what I'm going to do; my agenda is blank, my iPhone calendar lost its numerous dots. When you're always on the go, that's just what it is. Always on the go. No time to plan, no time to think, to reflect, to stop.

These past three months, compact with so many events, rendezvous and deadlines, went by fast. However, once Dian mentioned my absence in the blogging world, I realized I want to continue recording the events in my supposedly twilight years.

So here it is; my three month recap:

These past few months, the world has been very consistent on reminding me of the fact that I am almost...ugh... an adult.
My mother is, although she's always been, a prime reminder; the avid supporter of my independence. Me, being somewhat idealistic, I don't realize what I needed until it's too late. My mom's always rushing for the solution before the problem appears.

M: "You're eighteen next year"
D: "Well this is just the beginning of my life"
M: "....You're eighteen next year."

Of course, she says this already realizing that her opinions rarely affect mine and that I a near-individual, a very stubborn one at that. However, I can't help noticing she seems just a little anxious to get me out of the house.

As I'm preparing myself with the inevitable next-stage of my life, I'm finally starting to appreciate what I have. Students at Ideal all go through this stage, I have a feeling. We had our last camping trip to Squeah. (October)




Oh how I'm going to miss this place!!!



Story behind this picture: we randomly decided to get naked and go swimming in the lake!! *thumbs up* Of course, we got in shit for it afterwards.

Later on in October, for the first time, I left Vancouver, and visited a different city in BC, to K-town :D
It was for a leadership conference in so we stayed in one site but it was nice to get out and witness, first hand, the beautiful flourishing male population in the East I'd only heard of.
Note to self: Must party in Kelowna!

November was an eventful month for me as I budged my way into the papers.

http://www2.canada.com/vancouvercourier/news/story.html?id=33636a27-15a5-4cb1-9bf7-4d51568ba24c


All excitement aside, lessons were learned from this interview.  
Do not joke about stuff you don't want to appear on the papers.
Somehow, talks and jokes of my childhood dreams made it into the papers as "I always wanted to be the president of a country and a few months before the election I thought if I really want to take that step I should start small here," sounding a lot to me like "I'm blind and clueless".
That little bloop aside, I think the interviewer went easy on me; I sound like a "petite" but smart lady!

Orchestra rehearsals have been abundant throughout November and December, with a ton of extra rehearsals on weekdays going on til ten. We finally recorded our Olympic music two days ago at CBC.

I also decided that I'm gona have a good fucken unforgettable Christmas this year.
I don't know how, but I will!

End of my three month recap.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Staying at 5am

The recurring nightmares seem to visit only in the morning to fuck me over in the day.
It was kinda nice today, though, if it can be at all. At least I got to talk to him.
It's scary to turn from the computer or a mindlessly playing movie keeping minds away. So even when I'm not doing anything, I'll just stare at the screen.
Wish time would freeze like this. Or never have had such time.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

I ask you to take me away because I've had a shitty nightmare.
Instead, you send me right back to finish what I didn't start.


I really don't want anything else.. I just want complete silence, without the silent noise.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

5a.m. is when things are at the edge of impossibility.
A part of me has been trying to retrace and remember the last bits of this man. Part of me has left it cold, neglected and hidden in a hard steel box and hammered it shut. Why does it come rushing back? Why do our dreams betray us to tell the secret that kills us all? Three years; I don't know what to think or how to feel about this. We're all just pathetic, we abuse our feelings til it either turns into sad little mutes or grow up really fucked up, and leave us for good.

Why do we keep trying to justify Him, who made all this happen? Why do we say He had a purpose, when we know all it caused was numbing pain? Why is this man suddenly in a happy place, he who didn't believe and should be condemned?

Self- deception is everywhere; in our homes, at schools, at 5 am wide awake, or asleep. We tell ourselves lies to comfort ourselves. The saddest part is, none of us are sure, so we might as well love these little lies.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Kiwi



I love this video. The simplicity of the animation really adds to the tone.

Friday, September 18, 2009

It's OK

I've been trying this new thing where I don't make "small decisions", such as deciding which coffee to get, what burger to buy, what route to take. Instead, I'd let someone else make the "small decisions" for me. I read it in an article that lingering and stressing over even the tiniest, most insignificant decisions can cause and build up stress, and I have a habit of never being sure. Everything on the menu looks good, and I want to try everything. I used to believe I had a sense of adventure about me, now I think I'm just greedy. Anyways, all of these silly experiments lead up to an hope of being stress-free, like in the summer. But there will come a time when you don't have a choice to let someone else choose, and you'll be stumped and frustrated. Sometimes it's alright to feel overwhelmed.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Curiosity killed the cat



I was filling my bathtub when I noticed Sarah's strange interest in water. Very strange for a cat. She eventually fell in.

I am going to miss this kitty : (

Friday, September 4, 2009

shitty news

There are certain people in your life that will keep coming back despite your efforts to cut them off. Sometimes it's scary; you're just living your life and one random reminder of them can set you off the track and make you realize that there was something so obviously missing and it shocks you and hurts you and scares you that you can, or would die to, forget them. And it shocks you even more how much you miss them because they remind you of yourself when you didn't know better. Do you believe in fate? These people make you suspect an unknown force, and that nothing's ever a coincidence. You can hate their guts or maybe thoughts of them make you sick to your guts; you'll still respect them and feel responsible for them because to hate someone means you still care. Their opinions mean the world to you. They make you ruminate on what could have been, what, where, you could have been, they could have been, and make you realize repeatedly that it is what it is for a reason, and make you realize again that nothing justifies that reason, and they'll make you stare blindly into a cloudy future. They'll make you feel guilt and anger like never before, and never know it. You'll sculpt each other into who you are, and try to forget each other ever existed. You spend your childhood together and cry because you realized you need to grow up. They'll make you gladly suffer with them through their pain, and not have any clue what for. You want to save them, but your call doesn't go through. These people exist to give and take something from you, and only you; they'll make a fool of you because even after everything, you'd still rather have gone through it with them than without. Hope. It kills you to hear that they've lost hope.


But maybe you just love them, still.


"I don't hate you, Michael, I dread you."

Feeling shitty. shitty shitty shitty day.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Sleepless


This little foster kitty will not let me sleep.


.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Changes

I caught myself doing something really stupid on my 15 minute break today. As I sat reading magazines, I was avoiding sections advertising "fall fashions" without realizing. I wanted summer to last so bad, I think I believed that maybe by not acknowledging the coming of fall, I'd.. postpone it? It's childish, but it's hoping.

Yesterday, I got to have some time for myself.
I visited the Ideal Garden, which I had deserted for some time, thanks to the timed irrigation system. (Technology is either gona kill us or save us; at least it's keeping my plants alive :S) It seems to grow in huge chunks every time I visit.

Tamara, Isabel and I started this garden project, if I can remember it correctly, sometime around February. The start was a real pain in the ass. There was shoveling, weeding, planting, maneuvering to be done. We started a few plants by seed, killed lots, and saved a few. The few that survived grew out to be quite decent vegetables.


 Our very first mini tomato!!! I wont' lie, I was really excited when I saw this.


The champion plant: basil!!!
I had some other "creative" plans for this herb but I think I've decided to keep it simple and make pesto out of this basil.


I was a little too late for these poor cabbage leaves; they were all eaten by caterpillars. I avenged my cabbage leaves by squishing all of them dead, but it's still a sorry sight.


Just a few weeks ago, this eggplant was the saddest little plant I'd ever seen. I considered taking it out to free up space since I didn't think it was going to grow anymore. I left it there because it kind of felt like an abortion... Now how the hell did it grow so big?!

I'm sure many people would agree with me when I say gardening is therapeutic. Taking care of something has never been so stress-free. One thing you notice when gardening is how rapidly some plants grow. You need to embrace this change and see it through.


"The only constant is change."


.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

iPod Karma?

What a lucky strange day.

-First, found $50 in the bathroom,
-then, a customer left $10 behind,
-and then found an iPhone.
-When cashing out, my final amount came out to be $888.88.
Apparently in China, that's a luckiest number!!!

=>

-Found the lady that left the washroom right before me; turned out it was her money.

-Chased down the dude down the hallway to give him back his change.

-He got on his plane, and never saw his iPod again.

On my way home, my old iPod malfunctioned.

Could this all be more than just a mere coincidence?

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Expect the Unexpected

I love surprises. I love surprise parties, surprise rants, surprise attacks, surprise whatever's; I love surprises. It's probably my adrenaline addiction. However, if I were a cat, I would probably have been killed over a million times by curiosity.

I thought I'd properly guessed the surprise my friends had planned for me for my birthday (I spent the past few days and nights suspecting and analyzing and imagining everything and anything) but if there's anything spending Tuesday nights watching Big Brother has taught me, it is, to "expect the unexpected".

That morning, Vanessa's call got me to metrotown, which I'd guessed would lead to my "surprise" and that night, after deliciously spending the hard earned cash shopping, I found myself in a limo. I was pretty speechless, especially after our little "rough patch". We wasted the night away and I danced for something like 3 hours straight. Like a pro : D

To be honest, I tend to underestimate people's abilities, this time not an exception, especially of those closest to me. I think that's why I get so neurotic and anal and stressed out and try to do everything by myself and is the real reason behind my nickname, "little Hitler". This is far from a liberating experience, always feeling nervous about what other people are gona fuck up on, on top of what I'm gona fuck up on, on top of karma, coincidence, and random disturbances. Why do I do this? I don't know. I wish I didn't, but I think it's one of those "subconscious racism" or sth that we discussed so much about in Galiano. "We all have a little [doubt] living inside us, whether it's still living in the closet or been discovered." Or maybe I'm just a conceited psycho. But I know that my frustration, although sometimes based on more truth than I like to admit, is unreasonable. And this birthday surprise and times like this, is when I'm happy to be admitted very wrong. But at the same time, who woulda guessed a limo?!


Becoming seventeen, I looked back. This is the one time in a year where it's acceptable to reminisce and regret as much as I want. Of course without question, I'm extremely delighted and grateful that I made it this far. I'm happy with who I've become and I don't wish for anything to have gone differently. But I can't say I don't have any regrets; I do wish that I'd done some things differently. Even if you're only seventeen and have a lifetime to go, there's things unfixable and a point has to come, whether you like it or not, where you have to accept that how much ever guilt you feel won't change anything, only your own future. It's like sobering up; no caffein, no food, no comfort can heal it, only time. And when you sober up back into reality, hopefully you'll see things more beautifully, more clearly, and appreciate.

When I was little, I used to do this thing where I’d count the number of people that I thought loved and cared for me, then count the number of people that I for sure knew loved me, and then count the number of people who would feel sad if I died, feel miserable, feel neutral, not feel shit, and etc etc. And I went on forever until met my expected numbers and I felt nice and secure inside. But there were times when the numbers just wouldn’t go up, leaving me feeling empty and uncertain and unloved. It is, no matter how perfect and orderly your life is, so easy to feel unloved.

Feeling and knowing you’re loved also comes with how much you feel you deserve it. So the way you feel isn’t random. It isn’t an unfair way of the world getting back at you, saying “you’ll never be loved no matter how nice you are,” because if you don’t think you deserve it, chances are, you don’t. That's why I think most of the times, you never deserve the love you receive. And that's the love that matters the most, the unconditional kind.

So with that, expect the unexpected, love when you feel unloved, and when it's your birthday, don't let even one moment get away, and do not stay sober!

I wish I took more pictures!!!

Monday, June 29, 2009

Band of Two

Friday evening was Amrit's bon-voyage; it was a typical dinner at Cactus Club followed by a not-so typical jamming session on Granville St.
While in school, where guitars lie around classrooms, lounge, and who knows where's, Isabel and I have picked up a new hobbie; jamming! With amature skills and high spirits, we began to, Isabel with her guitar and me with my random instruments, play tunes everywhere we went. Including the streets!

Haha, and you thought you'd never see the day!
I was surprised when people actually came to watch us instead of turning the other way. And we even got a "fan" named Brad. We're just one step away from fame!
Oh, and just for the record, the change in the casket is my own.


The night fled fast and came morning, followed by noon at Granville Island. When your relatives visit Vancouver from across borders, Granville Island makes at least top ten on the destination list. With its artistic and friendly ambiance, I think it shows off a liberated and creative lifestyle that takes up a small place in everyone's hearts. It's made up of independent artists, including a wide variety of musicians, photographers, magicians, and all that good stuff, making it an ideal place for a easy, pleasant daytime chill.

It's the perfect place for the Jazz Festival's free shows; every year, it never disappoints me. Saturday's five o'clock show was by a local nu-jazz group called Bess Durey Band, with Bess Durey, the vocalist's, youthful and floating voice and some serious hippie lyrics. I enjoyed their unique style of something that sounds a lot like Elizabeth Shepherd.

As I sat enjoying the music and my icecream, I felt something on my head... A pigeon poop. According to Soo and Chris, it's supposed to be good luck... I'm tryna stay positive here! But seriously... DAMMIT.

Today's show was really amazing. It was by one of my favorites, the Grand Trine, with vocal, bass, keyboard, and trumpet. And no pigeon poop.



Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Frozen Emotions Shake

We don't know how to feel anymore. Where "happiness" is a vital ingredient to well-being, it has also become the sign of power and one's significance. So like many other things overrated, overused then devalued, it lost its meaning. Ever since "happiness" and ___ started to come in a package, we started to seek happiness not for the sake of being, but looking happy.

Maybe it has always been this way; faking happiness and suppressing depression to a point where we don't recognize our feelings. You think you're happy but wrong! you're just comfortable. You think you're in love, but beep! it's your defense mechanism in fear of loneliness and your heart in denial. No matter how much we try to distill it, emotions will always be unidentifiable compounds and never the pure elements that would make our lives so much easier.

I tried feeling genuinely sad today when my cat got unexpectedly hospitalized and took $500 with him. Or was it guilt? Anger? Disappointment, shame, pity, confusion? Confusion for sure, all the time. Anger towards lots of things, guilt for being unemployeed, shock towards these unforeseen costs, and lots of unpleasant emotions, so unpleasant because of their anonymity, eating me away and caving in that hollowness.

But maybe this is just how we are designed; emotions are always supposed come mixed and unable to identify, and we're never really meant to experience that sense of peace or be in our "happy" place.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Ouch

Refer to this video when you got the blues or... a little headache :D

LOL.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2dA-AL90_RE

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Plague

Just a few days ago, as I sat in my living room retired from the 20 something degree heat, I noticed a sound that went something like BZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
I look outside, where the sound was coming from, and I literally had to blink over and over again because I thought I was seeing random dots because of the heat. Then I realized it was a colony... no, a plague of bees.
I hurried over my mom, and she kept telling me to call 911... So I did... And they put me on hold! wtf?! When they picked up, I'd told them the situation; they told me that they are not responsible for this. Just when I'd just finished persuading my mom and myself that 911 is completely irrelevant to this situation, they said they'd put me through to the police... wtf?!

Anyways, here's a clip of the plague... All the little scratchy black and white dots are bees!

Saturday, June 6, 2009

I used to swim

Obsessions become your worst enemy when you have priorities.
Just when you think you've come to the surface, you find yourself drowning right back again.
But neither the surface nor the bottom ever seems reachable and you're left choking, waking up morning to mourning, to regret.

Don't try to save yourself because you'll never have enough.

I hate my obsessions. All 1001 of them.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

One thing about us..

Another one of us just turned seventeen an hour ago.
I know that we should be partying it up and all that jazz but we kept this special occasion small, just between the five of us. One thing about us five is that when we're all together, almost nothing ever goes as planned. So most of the times we take the liberty of not planning things at all; and just go with the flow.. And usually being spontaneous rewards us good fun. Our first birthday celebration took place on Friday, from Jericho all the way to Red Robins on Robson, on foot. Our initial starting point was supposed to be the Eatery and we would go from there. Of course, once again, our planning streak hit us and we didn't end up eating at the Eatery. So we decided to go down to Jericho, to a location Dannica and Isabel had named "the Secret Beach" because according to them, it's exclusive and no one knows about it. Turns out it wasn't so secret afterall! After chilling at the not-so secret beach, we walked the beautiful neighborhood and went down to Jericho Beach.
Another thing about us is that we are weak little creatures when it comes to cravings. And the birthday girl was craving burgers from Red Robins. So we walked.. Yes, walked across the bridge, across town, to Red Robins. It was one of the most calorie burning birthdays we had, without the help of alcohol or anything!
We split after dinner; birthday girl was tired.

Of course, birthday girl didnt' know anything about our surprise. A few hours ago, we sneaked into her back yard with the classic DAVID DQ cake; we just LOVE personalizing the cakes, and we have such talent for it! My past two birthday cakes consisted of a hooker, and a "MOTHERFUCKER" (love the expression on the DQ worker's faces).

Happy Birthday Dan the Man!!


* * * *

On Wednesday, after two years of careful planning, we finally launched our Passport to Play event. Alysha, Sioban and I, all part of the VDSC, came up with this idea on a ferry on our way back to Vancouver from a 2010 Legacy conference in Victoria. We can't take all the credit because I actually "borrowed" the idea from ISF, my dearly missed school in Germany.
The event was sort of a "Mini Paralympics", containing various sports for para- and special-athletes (para-athletes are students with a physical disability, as special athletes are students with mental disabilities). There was bocce, wheelchair soccer and basketball, obstacle course, softball, and so much more. Our goal was that the Vancouver students with disabilities will continue their participation in these sports after the event now that they have access to it. It was a nice warming in the heart when a girl asked me where she could keep playing bocce.
A few weeks ago, Alysha and I were invited to attend the AIM Games in Surrey, a similar event Passport to Play that's been running for five years now. Deb, the lady who organized the AIM Games, was one of the people who helped a great deal in organizing Passport to Play, and as we scanned the numerous sport events and tried to learn, she told us that their first year was hell. So we were considerably worried, but I think ours went fantastic! Of course, there were some flaws that we can work on, but nothing majorly went wrong.
We had the Olympic mascotts there as well, and the students loved them! Although I am not so pro-Olympics, the government gave us a funding of ten thousand dollars for this project because of its ties with the Paralympics. Without that funding and support, we could not have hosted this event and I did make a decision of hosting this event because it would help a cause of good importance, providing students with disabilities an opportunity to be active, although it supported a cause that collided, the controversial Vancouver Olympics.

http://olympichostcity.vancouver.ca/events/hostacityevent/grantrecipients.htm
http://www.tourism2010.com/CMS/Event/Detail.aspx?EntityID=196

* * * *

Thursday was one of those really stressful days. My phone has been with the company of my friend Peggy for about a week and to pick it up, we decided to meet at the Metrotown skytrain station. I "needed" my phone, and maybe that's why I scheduled it at the same time of my VYSO audition. So after letting her know that vanessa will pick it up instead of me; neither of them knew what each other looked like... But Peggy had my cellphone and she could reach Vanessa through that. Or we thought. Here's where we learn and relearn that technology can be so unrealiable; my phone died, leaving both my friends hopelessly "looking for" a face they couldn't recognize.

After losign the battle with technology, I had my audition. To be honest, I don't think I made it. The competition for the senior orchestra is like a fight for the last pushup bra on boxing day and I wasn't feeling so good about it. Results are coming out in two weeks, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

I was feeling sort of down so we stopped by at Meinhardt and picked up my favorite olives in the world. When that wasn't enough, my mom and I went to Antoine's. Then everything was good :D

Monday, May 25, 2009

Beautiful Vancouver

The place to see and be seen in Vancouver, energetic Robson Street boasts over 200 shops, cafés and services. Spend a day on the strip - spoil yourself in trend-setting fashion boutiques or sip a latté as you relax and people-watch from a sidewalk café. With a weekend average of some 80,000 streetgoers, there are plenty of people to watch!

And when you walk down towards Pender and then take another short five minute walk towards Carrall, you will witness the transformation in the atmosphere. You have entered the oldest, the most exclusive neighborhood in Vancouver, the Downtown East Side! With a day`s average of some 5,000 people inhaling or injecting drugs, there are plenty of people to watch!

This may as well be on the tourist guide book along side the previous one because soon, foreigners will witness for themselves the myth of beautiful Vancouver and its "Corner" and say, wtf?

A few of us from Galiano; Peggy, Neelam, and Angela, were reunited today in the distant land of Downtown East Side at a workshop on homelessness, hosted by 4REAL.
Liz Evans from the Portland Hotel Society, was our "tour guide" in the DTES. As Liz told us about her experiences and life in DTES, she described the mindset of many volunteers that come down to help. They come, expecting to make a difference and helping people get out of their harmful lifestyle, and when they don't see the change, they get frustrated.
People have to be realistic about what they can and can't do. And because the recovery process in a hurt place as this is painfully slow, sometimes all you can do is listen and be open minded.

After our short session with Liz, we visited the Portland Hotel, the low-income apartment for DTES. One thing I loved was the residential Garden project; gardening is so theraputic and it also builds a sense of community.
Then we visited Insite, North America's very first safe injection site. The injection site supplies clean needles for people to use (people bring their own drugs) and not only, they have a rehabiliation program in the same building, consisting of a few different levels, each stage closer to recovery.
This was followed by a visit to the DTES Pigeon Bank. I'd never really even thought of a bank as a need for homeless people but most locals are on welfare programs that send cheques and it seems obvious now, that most are homeless, but not penniless.
Then last but not least, we visited the DTES dental office. Most doctors volunteer their hours there. I was pretty amazed to see the very basic needs met for the locals.

However, there is only ONE of each in the whole of DTES. There are many food and clothing banks run by various charity groups but the big money projects such as the ones mentioned previously (safe injection sites, low-income buildings, dental clinics), lack the support of major organizations like... hmmm the government. For a while now, I've refused to believe the bad things people say about the government; having come from a country of political corruptance, the politics being one of the reasons my parents decided to leave the country, Canadian government gives an illusion of being pretty damn supportive. And here, we have become so spoiled that we blame our littlest problems on the government. But this workshop made me cynical!
We learned that 85% of the funds going to "help" the DTES goes to enforcement (police, criminalization of drugs, etc), something like 10-15% on prevention, and less than 1% on harm reduction (Injection Sites). That sounds pretty ridiculous considering the numerous studies having proven the effectiveness of safe injections sites and facts, not opinions, on the positive effects of legalizing drugs.

The DTES area is being victimized to gentrification rather than being helped and treated as a whole. The government is building bigger and nicer buildings that people of DTES don't need and raising housing prices that they can't afford.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

RIP Mr.President

Breath very slowly, and focus on one thing instead of a million things at once.

We're all fucking crazy. I'm having a BigMac meal at 5am in the morning before going to bed, my 15 year old cousin is getting plastic surgery, and I've come across way too many homeless people with PSPs.
And just when you think you've had enough of that crazy, you go right back into the loop of crazy and spin and spin until you realize there's no way out .
Well, there's one way out, and it's not, contrary to popular belief, the easy way out.

South Korea, a country with one of the highest suicide rates, was traumatized by an unexpected death this morning. Korea's last year's president had jumped off a cliff. Apparently he was already going through hell after he'd been succeeded. This seems to be a common occurrence in the post-presidency state in Korea. Once their title and power is gone, so are most of their PR forces that'd been protecting them from public attacks and accusations. Most ex-presidents are accused of accepting bribes, a common practice in politics, and according to my mom, the issues are mostly taken to court. However, by some inconspicuous conspiracy, most ex-presidents get away with it, walking away with enough money for their whole life and their many generations to come. Others aren't as lucky, such as this one.

I'm not trying to justify his bribe-taking actions. But people are mean, and in a mean world, death is the one thing that gives the illusion of being forgiven. No matter a person's past, when he dies, he merely becomes a memory and we feel sympathy that we couldn't when he was alive; except in the case of a suicide. When someone commits suicide, we do what we do best; judge. We automatically try to measure up their fear, endurance, sorrow, selfishness, and just whatever that must've been going through their heads; some conclude with the simpler answer: they were weak. Some, with some sympathy.

I think people ponder on committing suicide if the suffering outweighs the joy. And often, when people consider suicide, they push the idea even further by punishing themselves on merely considering it, because they feel they are flawed, weak, crazy, or sinful. But “suicide is not chosen; it happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain,” and it is merely an imbalance between the two. Therefore, the definition of bearable depends on the person; just like anything else. So can we really say that they were weak?

I went to hot yoga today, and it felt amazing. I think everyone should seriously do yoga (and smoke a joint).

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090524/ap_on_re_as/as_skorea_obit_roh

Monday, May 18, 2009

Long Weekend

I took another one of my long weekends, this time, followed by Victoria Day. I was hoping to catch up on some school work but that didn't go as planned.
The long weekend gave my family time for one of those long dinners we used to have. Last night, over salmon and white wine, we put on the table the unification of Korea debate. I personally wasn't strong on it; I just didn't feel like the unification is a necessity. However, my mom and homestay student felt otherwise; they made a neglected but viable point; we are one people! I remember in grade two SS class, we were taught about pro-unification and the friendly North Koreans in the red scarves. I don't think unification is as big of an issue as it used to be..

This dinner was followed by another gathering with a less political topic. We finally got together for a night out for dinner; food was at Goldfish.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

West Fest

What a crazy day! I just got back from West Fest, a celebration for the launch of Free the Children's Me to We office in Vancouver. Jesse Cruickshank emceed the night and Marc and Craig Kielburger inspired us with stories of their past experiences. My most memorable presentation was by Michel, a former child soldier who endured the brutal Great War of Africa.

Before the show started, Alysha and I sold buttons for their "Got Goat?" project, a fundraiser for the Alternate Income program at Free the Children. The central idea is that a goat is merely an animal to us, but in third-world countries, it is a source of income and food. We had a blast selling the buttons and we made over $300!

The Marianas Trench were there at the show that night. It was hilarious because it seemed like the lead singer kept wandering around the front expecting to be swarmed by an army of crazed teenage girls; no swarming happened.



HAHA, this picture always makes me laugh.

Before West Fest, I was in Surrey, at Tamanawis Highschool, as a spectator for the annual Surrey AIM games, a sports day for students with mental and physical disabilities. Alysha, Sioban and I, have organized a similar event for Vancouver, called Passport to Play. It'll be launched on May 27th, at John Oliver Secondary.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Mother's Day and its preceding days

Honor thy father and mother.

In Christian beliefs, parents have a God-given authority over their children that can't be defied; if dishonored, the offense is not only towards your parents, but to God Himself. They are to be honored unconditionally except in the conditions of them sinning or them causing you to sin. This commandment; although the most "realistic" compared to the previews ones, which talk mostly of one's relationship with God, rather than the human to human relationships; contradicts the culture at the time because it gives equal power to male and female, which was rarely the case. Nowadays, it is somewhat opposite the case; it is common for mothers to have more power in the household and more influence over their children. I mean, they did go through that nine months of bloating and that nine hours of labor.

Today is mother's day and although it was a last minute decision, I decided to make dinner.
I chose to make Soy and honey glazed salmon because I had such limited time and this came up to be one of the simplest dishes. Despite the haste and simplicity, it turned out really nice! My brother Sean, who said he'd make the salad, bought a ready-to-go salad from Safeway, that cheater.
I regret not having enough time to make it look nice, as you can tell by the picture, it looks really boring and empty. But, I got a thumbs up from all of my family so I'm off the hook! : )

* * * * * * * *

Yesterday was VYSO's final concert of the year. We played Overture by Weber and five movements from Carmen, one of which was my flute solo.
So I was pretty nervous, and being a flautist, you need to watch your nerves.. Because your nerves will project right through your sound. There have been many times in performances where I felt confident and relaxed but my body told me otherwise, resulting in my lips shivering. And don't try to be optimistic, because this does not sound the least like vibrato. When I told my fellow flautists, they told me they'd experienced the exact same thing, which, being or at least trying to be super simple minded at the time, instantly made me feel better.



Entr'acte

My flute solo! The sound quality is terrible but if you can hear, it starts with the harp and the flute, later joined by the rest of the orchestra. In our rehearsals, the strings section played the harp part, which I thought would be the performance plan. When, an hour before the concert at our final rehearsal, the strings were replaced by a single harp, I felt like it just sounded so quiet in the huge auditorium. And I'm gona blame my squeaking on the high note on that! Oh, and of course, on the jinxes from my brother. Somewhere near the beginning, you can hear Sean quietly saying "choke, choke, choke". That little bastard.

Overall, it went pretty well; we all agreed it was the best one of the year. Our concert took place in Kay Meek Center, wayy into West Van, but despite the distance, Amrit, Isabel and Jonathan came to watch and we finished the night with Chinese food.

I have another excuse for my wrong notes! I must admit, throughout the concert, I was half asleep and half zoned out and half dying from exhaustion. If that even mathematically makes sense. Well, this explains the state of mind I was in.

* * * * * * * * *

The night before, Sherry and I went out; we went out, which lead to me getting locked out. We hung around and at around nine, we brought company from Surrey. Then the drunken night carried on from a random guy teaching us astronomy to meeting a fellow drunken girl on the skytrain to getting locked inside the skytrain (AGAIN. At the same skytrain station!) to getting locked out of the house.

All the buses had stopped running when I got to 22nd station, so I had to shamefully call my friend Tracy to pick me up.. (If by any chance you're reading this, Tracy...You know you saved a stupid kid from truble and I don't know how to thank you!)
It was around two when I got home. Okay, good enough, I could still get a good 6hours of sleep til I have to wake up for my rehearsal.
Let me just say that I always carry around my keys. Except that night.
Silently cursing the new door we just installed (my old door used to just open without unlocking once you pushed it hard enough), I went to the back because I knew it would be open. But of course, it wasn't; otherwise I would have been awake during my performance. I knocked on my brother's window for a good 15 minutes, with no luck. I really didn't want to wake my mom, but I had no choice. Desperately, I called my house, only to remember my stupid stupid suggestion this morning when she told me about random phone calls in the middle of the night. I told her to disconnect the phone before going to sleep, and she did just that.
Yep, so I did the unthinkable; I slept on my balcony. I'm grateful for the comfy chairs.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

A week off. To Galiano

I got back from Galiano yesterday at around 7pm, and although I was exhausted from no sleep from the night before, headed from the ferry straight to school for Desserts and Drama night, Ideal's annual art show. The moment we landed in Vancouver I was overwhelmed with a low because of the inevitable return to an inescapable and routine lifestyle and the realization that nothing had changed, only me, which can be a very scary thought. I think it was a good thing I went to school because it's better just being around people than ruffling around in your bed alone with your whole body wanting to shut down but your brain refusing to let go.

The constant frenzy isn't anything special or new, I noticed that everytime I take off and come back, an extreme low, a crash is inevitable. But because this time my retreat wasn't just a vacation, rather, an intense experience for the brain and the heart, I'm expecting and hoping for the crash to stay.

I always say, "I wish I could be a hippie for a day", and I think in a very long time, I finally came pretty close, minus the weed. Followed by that week of overflowing to-do's and time constantly on my ass; not having to worry about school, work, future, and ridiculously immaterial things, was so liberating and gave me time to actually think without being interrupted by phone calls (there was no reception!) and post-it notes every where I look. The group was a gathering of 19 highschool students, 13 from Vancouver and 6 from Port Alberni and mentors (AKA tormentors); each one of us with our own stories and ideas to share and a goal of challenging discrimination. And with that motivation, we were to make a short video on anti-discrimination at a small film school called GIFTS on beautiful Galiano Island.

We were divided into sub-groups depending on what type of film (documentary, animation, drama, etc) we wanted to make. Inspired by Moby's "Sky is Broken", I wanted to make an animation film; I didn't know how tedious and complicated animation would be. During our working times, we sat in front of computers in the "Nerdhole" and worked while other groups filmed outside, in the sun! As jealous as I was, I don't regret choosing animation because I learned so much about Photoshop and Aftereffects, a program where you can make your picture move, and with animation, you can make anything happen, and ways of communicating your ideas is limitless.

But before we could start the process of storylining and drawing characters, we had to come up with the message we wanted to convey and how to show it through our piece. For my group, which consisted of Branden and Jonah, both from Port Alberni, and myself, this was the hardest process of all; we really had an overflowing of ideas and everything we decided on would complicate itself into an incomprehendable theme. Our first idea was a FPS video game film on the affects of discrimination on the racist. This idea couldn't work because we couldn't find a way to justify the racist's violent actions and couldn't take the risk of depicting a mixed message. Our second idea was a view into the minds of three strangers on the bus. The three stranger are of different colors, and we demonstrate both the random thoughts (eg. what to have for dinner, what to wear tomorrow) and the circumstancial and subconscious thoughts (eg. the way person naturally relates to a certain colored person when reading about crime, way a person resituates themselves on the bus depending on the color of his neighbor, and etc.)

Both our ideas revolved around a thing called "subconscious racism"; we were all devoted to this vague idea that only on the second day of the week, with five more days left to finish our film, we decided to change it. In truth, we were so blindly in love with the idea of "subconscious racism" that we didn't even know how to exactly define it. I first brought up the idea of "subconscious racism" because I discovered my inner racist. Having drifted from culture to culture, continents to islands, I have always considered myself to be multicultural and open minded; but one day I caught my mind freely and sneakily judging and justifying, after an anti-racism workshop that I whole-heartedly participated in. After the workshop and on the bus, a stereotypical emo girl walked in, and although I can't describe in words how the mind works, closest thing is, it was a split second of "she thinks she has the worst of everything". The duration of that thought was so short and the visibility so faint that it could have easily slipped away, but I caught it and had a holy shit, you hypocrite moment. And after catching my mind in action that one time, I caught a lot more. And constantly catching this subconscious mind in action and just being aware changed my attitude a whole lot.

We also argued that this "subconscious racism" idea creates a new intake into the whole anti-racism argument. The fight against racism has somewhat become a blaming game where fingers are always pointed towards the "racists", "others" or "bad guys", rather than us, and everyone. I think this piece had the potential to redirect the accusing fingers and reconnect people with the neglected little voices in our heads.

When we are aware of our thoughts, we can do more to control our actions followed by those quiet thoughts. With the help of Angela, the school board's anti-racism and diversity consultant who brought me on board, we discussed "subconscious racism" and came to a conclusion that "subconscious racism" in fact lines itself with prejudice. Prejudice is "a feeling, favorable or unfavorable, towards a person or thing not based on actual experience (negative and positive)". The minor difference between "subconscious racism" and prejudice is that subconscious racism is a subconscious division of people into categories, while prejudice sides towards one particular side of that division. Three cups of coffee and countless reconsiderations later, we decided to completely renew our idea once again. The topic of "subconscious racism" was very insightful and educational, but it was much too vague and difficult to convey. Hitting a stop point was difficult and having to acknowledge that we need a change of idea was even more disheartning, but we were warned beforehand to "love nothing" and with that, we let go.

Our new idea reflected the long caffein filled discussion we had in an attempt to revive our "subconscious racism" idea. In an attempt to define the word, we examined the origins of racism/prejudice. Needless to say, much history is involved, but the present media also plays a huge role. We're all affected by Hollywood's definition of beauty, masculinity, the smart kind, the obedient kind, the main character, and the extra. And with this in mind, our piece shows the dilemma of authentic self versus the media influenced self formed by the "layer of skin" media has wrapped her in. We used boiling for the background, to create a messy and unrealistic affect. We played with real images, cropped a bunch of random images into pieces and stuck them together into one body (sorta like Angela Anaconda) and placed them into TVs, magazines, posters, all of which represent the media.

On the last day, exhausted and caffeinated with coffee beans from the last minute work the night before, we showcased all of our videos. All of the videos turned out great, we put into film what we wanted to say, and we all left with the pride that we all had a part in them.

It's funny because before, I would have considered this week to have been either an excuse to miss another chunk of school and "take a break", or the most "ineffective" time I'd spent since spring break, "effective" use of time, meaning studying physics, cramming for chemistry test, practicing flute, constantly checking off my to-do list, and so on. I have single handedly avoided to do any of that "effective" stuff.

I think we have developed a fear of not being in constant action. We are afraid of taking a break because the world is going so fast, and it'll take that much longer for you to catch up. And from that fear, we became obsessed. Obsessed with our own futures, our own financial situation, our own survival. And with deadlines breathing down our necks, it's hard to not to be obsessed. In the midst of so many people to see, things to do, places to be, and physics, math, chemistry to learn, I can't say for sure that social justice and racial discrimination would have been my priority before this trip.

Friday, April 24, 2009

These past few weeks have been physically and mentally exhausting.
It seemed like my whole year's to-do list suddenly decided to cram itself into this incredibly short timespan of two weeks. But I admit that my procascination and putting things off is mostly to blame. I had to prep for my under prepped Kiwanis competition and finish my overdue Art projects for my school's art show before leaving for Galiano... And orchestra raffle tickets to sell, rehearsals to attend (I finally get to play a solo part and I have no time to practice it!), VDSC meetings and presentations to attend.. And to top that off, PMS! I feel like this twitching on my left eyelid is like a time ticker for my head to blow up.

I have been playing the flute and performing for years now, and I annually enter the Kiwanis Festival, for more performing opportunities and scholarships. This year, I unwillingly chose Borne's "Carmen Fantasy" and and Bach's "Partita". I first watched Carmen in Germany, then in England, and never in France. It is a memorable opera, and it was one of my favorite, until these past few weeks of nonstop listening and playing of it that has made me resent it and fear it completely.

First of all, as I mentioned earlier, I "unwillingly" chose Carmen Fantasy and Partita. I really wanted to perform something that I was familiar with, due to my lack of time to practice and, well.. my desire to win. I had many other performing and learning opportunities but this was one of the few festivals that offered opportunity for international performance and scholarships. But my teacher insisted I play something new and extremely difficult for "my own educational sake", which my mom totally agreed with. These two pieces required for at least 2 hours of practice a day, time I could not possibly afford. It was irrational choosing this piece because not having practiced the expected amount of time and just barely perfecting it wasn't going to teach me the full lesson of this piece. Maybe later, if I hit a major traumatizing turning point in my life and decide to become a teacher, I will understand but in my right mind at the moment, I can't say I agree the littleset bit with my mentors for making me do this.

And to top that off, my pianist burnt her hand (I realize I sound like a total bitch making this about me...) and I had to find a new one two weeks before the concert, which meant I had to repractice the whole thing and familiarize myself with the new pianist.

It was three days before the concert that I started exceeding my usual and rational 2 hours of practice time. I was headbutting into impossibility, practicing 8hours a day, even skipping school and consuming enormous amounts of food (playing flute makes you stuff your face in food). Stupid last minute adrenaline.

Oh, and did I mention I had to miss my mom's birthday and 420!? I felt like I was sacrificing everything to this monster called limited time.
And although I already knew I wasn't going to win, I practiced and practiced.. because I guess that's what great and mindless musicians are supposed to do.. The two performances turned out to be pretty devastating. At least it's over.

..Not really. I woulda been able to say, "Finally! Fuck Carmen and her l'Amore and Habenera business, I'm going back to loving and friendly moby and britney"... if it wasn't for my orchestra. I play in the VYSO, and one of our music for our May performance happen to be Carmen. I got a solo part, which is awesome, but after this performance, I'm really gona lose it if I have to play it again any time soon.

I love art and one of my many dreams is to one day run my own art gallery and support the arts as it transforms. Just last year, as I sat flipping through Cosmopolitan, flat out of ideas for my art project, I came across a perfume ad that caught my eye, and in the act of desperation, I decided to paint it. And to Joanne (our art teacher) and my surprise, it turned out quite nice. And from then, Joanne has been encouraging and even pressuring me through art works. I could say it was from then that I really started to take interest in art. If there was one thing I regret from my Eurolife, it is having stared at my gameboy screen playing Pokemon (Yellow version!), instead of at the face of Mona Lisa when we were at the Louvre years ago.

Despite my love for art, or maybe because of my love for it, I hate doing art under a deadline, although it is the only way I can get anything done, because for me it's one of those never-perfect and forever incomplete kind of work. But because Joanne wanted to showcase my painting in our Dessert and Drama Night, an artshow our school hosts annually, this week was crowded with due dates, including a finish for my painting. And because Joanne knows my inaffection for deadlines, she threatened to kill me if I don't finish it, which she clarified it as not being a threat, but a fact. LOL.

I'm going to call this painting "the Lady in the Green Dress" for now. It was, once again, found in a magazine and I just loved the affective color and the soothing and exotic and even an abstract feel of it.
I rushed the bottom part of the painting because I am exhausted and I was about to faint and rip my painting, but it's done for now.
I feel like I should feel a ton of weight lifted off me but all I can think of is the list for tomorrow. I have two more projects to go, photography and art, and for the art project, which is done on a 2m paper, I'm praying to get an extended deadline. Otherwise I'll just have to leave without finishing it and actually meet my deadline.
And I should pack. Of course I haven't packed yet.

One of the best things about life is leaving it, and tomorrow, I'm leaving to Galiano with 13 students from Vancouver and Port Alberni to share ideas and make a video about anti-discrimination. More than anything, I'm just happy and relieved to be leaving this space right now, and hopefully this week away will do me some good.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

One of the things I love about being in VDSC is the amount of free workshops and presentations you get invited to. I just got back from a presentation by Craig Kielburger, the founder of Free the Children. It was, like any other, an inspiring and informative presentation about tear jerking events that changed the world and becoming the change. I remember the first few presentations I attended really shifted my paradigm of the world and made me want to "be the change". I still enjoy the presentations but now they are starting to feel like Red Bull for a temporary motivation high, a repetition of powerful words whose effects are starting to wear out.

Monday, April 6, 2009

*** said (4:34 PM):
dami?
*** said (4:38 PM):
thanks for the lecture
no sarcasm
it was more of an eye opener sort of thing
*** said (4:39 PM):
it was almost getting to the point were it was like a repulse action when talking about it with ** afterwards
*** said (4:40 PM):
kinda realize now i don't need to cheat
to do well
so yeah thanks

This was gonna be a serious angry rant post until a few minutes ago, before I got this message.

One sunny day, my friends and I got into an argument about cheating; before leaving from school, I caught them on their routine pre-test-lingering-around act. And although both sides of the already screaming argument tried to avoid the sensitive and condemning topic, what could have been a rare and peaceful sunny walk home, couldn't be so.

I find that in most arguments, unless both sides are both very reasonable and detached from emotion, no one really wins, no matter now plausible or reasonable either side is. So the whole way home, this sensitive topic, like all issues concerning morals, morphed up an intense atmosphere and became an unwinnable battle between the "good guy" and the "joker".

In front of my friends and a mob of "it's just a test"'s to try to fend off, once again, I had been forced into the role of the too-sensitive, too-much-pride Goodie Two Shoes, whom I preferably like to call the "good guy". "Good guys" are ones, maybe duller than the other kind, that have nothing to prove but the fact that they have morals; and couldn't cheat their conscience only because they are unstable and shapeless without their sturdy rock called morals. They have too much pride to let their ambitions budge and too much ambition to let the "jokers" off the hook. Also, they probably have a foolish if not subconscious hope that "you reap what you sow" and they will one day be rewarded for their resistance.

Jokers aren't stupid. They understand that their actions are wrong but cleverly and even subconsciously justify their actions with everyone-does-its and it's-not-so-wrongs, and lessen the enormity of their injustifiable decisions. They cleverly disguise themselves well and try to turn the whole situation into a joke. Some of them also hide the deceitful and cowardly act it in a facade of a rebellious act, which in today's teen culture, is mostly accepted without question; what could be "cooler" than "not caring?" But if the so-called rebellious teens don't care, why cheat in the first place for grades they don't care about? One thing I want to say to them is, if you really don't care, don't come to class. Simple as that. (And if you're worried about graduation, it's actually quite effortless to just barely pass to graduate without attending much of school) The hippocricity is overwhelming. However, I think this type makes up only a small portion of the popular joker association (most cheaters prefer to cheat in groups/partners, thus the "association"). Another portion is made up by the saint-by-day and cheater-by-night type. This type irritates me the most because I think they are a great example of "wolves in a lamb's costume". They are rarely blamed for anything because they claim their righteous morals on a daily basis, by trashing the moral crimes they are not related to and have no genuine interest in defying. They are the biggest hipocrites because their fiery opinions on moral issues mysteriously die down when it comes to cheating. This is a great example of betrayal of morals for ambition; maybe the true temptations are not drugs or alcohol, maybe they're the ones that offer a easy way up on the ladder and give way to our neverending ambitions.

∴ambition + temptation = evil?

The great mystery. In today's English class, we discussed if ambitions are the root of evil, and if we should pursue it, nevertheless. I think.. we concluded that once your ambitions turn to greed, you are more likely to betray your morals. Macbeth encounters the same dilema, and must decide between his raging ambitions or his familiar morals. After much scorning from his wife, whom I think represents Macbeth's ambition, chooses to murder Duncan; and don't worry, I won't say "look what happened to Macbeth" because, well, we all have our own battles to fight and soliloquys to write.

Then, you may be saying, if we ultimately make our own decisions despite the full-throttle attempts at "guidance", why not just leave the poor friends alone?! Well, that's because I'm no moral saint, and I don't, and won't ever, pretend to be one. Pretending to be a moral saint has one definite result which is hipocricity. (In fact, life would be very sad if either we or the ones close to us were "moral saints")
I have had my share of pocket-pickings and test-peakings and I admit the wrongness and will suffer the consequences but I won't try to justify it because in most our cases, it can't be justified. We did not suffer a moral dilema of wrong vs. another wrong. For the ones who chose to cheat, it was a dilema between right vs. wrong, making it inexcusable.

Anyways, before I got carried away with my idea of justice, I was talking about why I taunt my friends if I believe it is ultimately their decision. Moral saints don't do much of self-construction or self-development. When people, not moral saints, help, not only is it highly unlikely to not feel even the least amount of pride after positively changing a course of someone's life, it is what get many people motivated. Which makes "helping", sort of like a good selfish act.

Therefore, because I am a selfish person like any other, I "help" and try to fulfill my purpose-One of the purposes in life being, whether you are religious or not, to positively influence others into a direction that offers the most against all the odds because it's just not logical to think that you are the shining star in this world populated with 6.7 billion people, with roughly 5babies being born every second and 25000 children dying each day due to poverty, and with nearly HALF of that 6.7billion living on less than $2.50 a day, with less than TWO percent of that getting a post-secondary education, it is just so pointless climbing on top by betraying your conscience, which should be the most important out of like... everything.

So in the spirit of doing my part, I attempt to influence. And it was uplifting when I got the message, although I have no way of telling whether it was an honest confession or just BS, but as friends, all you can do is have faith.

Oh, and of course, there's that good old "if you cheat, you're only cheating yourself" business.. But seriously.. Although I believe and hope my friends are not stupid enough to think they can get away with this elsewhere, it does have potential of becoming a habit. I'm not tryna pour the negativity and jinx the promising futures, but you could actually get kicked out of college for cheating and it will without doubt majorly affect your life. Also, if you believe you get away with this moral crime, with the right motive and ambition, you could bend any moral crime. Moral is no moral at all if it can be compromised.

In a time where we more likely listen to tips-of-the-days and Oprah instead of our conscience, cheating has become something so commonly practiced and practical, the true hideousness behind it becoming clouded, along with our judgment.
I'm just gona finish by saying I lied when I said it wasn't gona be a rant post because it so obviously is..

Friday, March 6, 2009

All you have to do...


I know what Bert is going through, it's the loneliest feeling in the world. It's like walking down on an empty street, listening to your own footsteps. But all you have to do is knock on any door and say, "If you let me in, I'll live the way you want me to live, and I'll think the way you want me to think," and all the blinds'll go up and all the windows will open, and you'll never be lonely, ever again.
...Inherit the Wind

Saturday, February 28, 2009

My mind is everywhere, my eyes are searching, and most of all, the anger and panic is unbearable. My cash is gone, my IDs are gone, and my $600 wallet is gone. LV is gone. Louis is.. well.. was (ouch), a huge part of me. Not only was it.. beautiful and rare and French, it was a gift from the most important person.

And in the midst of all the mixed emotions, I can't get the lady out of my head!!!

A lady with a big mole on the upper side of her mouth is staring at me while I carelessly stuffe the cash inside my wallet, and my privacy feels violated. But my mind is onto more important matters at the time, and I pay no attention.

I leave my stuff on the table and walk literally five steps away, toward the garabage can to spit out my gum, and when I come back, my wallet is gone. Only I don't realize it till I'm home, and the lady with the mole is far away.

My initial reaction after not being able to find my wallet anywhere in my bag is "wtf???" and thousands of images and red run through my head. I don't understand how it could disappear because there was no point in time where I could have lost it. I carefully retrace my steps and the unpleasant image with the lady with the mole pops up into my head.. And I'm sure that it was her.

I go back to Oakridge, giving the securities a very thorough description of my wallet but not a nearly good enough job with the description of the lady; and not really getting anywhere but at the mole. By that time, panic is replaced by anger and guilt. I'm so glad the securities didn't yell at me for being so stupid. They tell me that they'll let me know as soon they find anything.

I'm just plain disturbed when I get home for the second time.
I know that telling the securities about it was just for my personal comfort, and I've long before, the minute I realized the lady had taken it, realized that my wallet or the lady will never be found. I'm so upset and disturbed that I talk to God-there's someone to blame. And I just ask.. WHY he let this happen. Obviously I'd learned a lesson I will never forget, but the price is too high and too cruel.
And something that I'd been trying to ignore this whole wallet nonsense forces itself out. Two days ago, my friend's father passed away; and I realize what a big fuss I'd made over a wallet..

Goodbye, Louis.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Jo's twentieth birthday, and we celebrate with food and Clue.
Of course, Clue gets confusing and in the end nobody really wins.



Sunday, February 22, 2009

In "the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time", Christopher, a boy diagnosed with asperger's syndrome, visualizes a perfect world. His utopia is a logical haven filled with people like him, who live isolated and make contact only on scheduled occasions. In this place, Christopher feels ": )"

With his example, Sandra gave us a new project: invent your own Utopia, with your own idealistic geography, politics, economy, people, and etc.
We took this project with glee, stretching our imaginations to its limitless horizon.
Being a hippie at heart, the Utopia of my making consists of some serious love and peace mumbo jumbo.

Brief History
Things had gotten more than a little out of control by the year 4000. Most did not notice the madness, the rage and greed in their own eyes; and if they did, thought of it as a way of survival. If the Earth had a motto at the time, it would have been “survival of the fittest”. Technology was developed like no one in the past had imagined, and everyone itched to climb on top. Love was replaced by lust, friendship was for convenience and murder for power was common, even accepted. Many people lived in fear of falling behind, leisure breaks ending up in a breaking of a promising future; therefore no one took breaks; they just worked and worked until some bodies got too tired to function. This life of haste and greed inevitably led to despising of a friend and suspecting of a family member, thus the destruction of mankind. Male, female, young, old, religious or atheist, all fought for their power, resulting in a great war, later named The Last War.

Creation of Gaia
Decades have passed since the massacre of human kind, The Last War, where it finally and inevitably reached a point of madness and wiped each other out clean, from the face of this earth. However, there were a few survivors of the devastation, roughly a number of a million, spread across the Earth. After witnessing the bloodshed, each one of them, perhaps with the help of “god”, realized the madness of what had been done. The enormity of the war affected each one of the survivors. Mostly, they were scared, traumatized and remorseful, an emotion none of them had felt in a long time. The immeasurable shock had opened their eyes and allowed them to see the hell, each in their own ways, they had created and had been living in.

Having learned from their mistakes, the survivors of each continent, after great emotional difficulty, agreed to start over. They gave a new, reformed name to Earth: Gaia. In Greek mythology, Gaia was the daughter of Chaos, the wife of Uranus, the god of Heaven, and mother to her many offspring called the Titans. The time was difficult when dealing with the aftermath of the calamity; but after many complications, Gaia became a simple and peaceful place.

The new beginning seemed like nothing but scary to the new “Gaians” but with much bravery, the survivors put their heads together and tried to figure out what they had done wrong, and what had led to the destruction. After much contemplation, they realized what the problem had been; it was something most of them had already known deep inside, but were afraid to admit, for they would have to change their whole nature. It was their desire for materialistic things, willingness to step over others to be on top, and the thirst for power. After the Gaians had agreed upon the seemingly simple but intensely complicated problem, the solution wasn’t so hard. They would learn to live in love, harmony, and trust.

Gaia in the World of Today
It’s a place of freedom, and life itself is a relaxation. The civilians of Gaia live, not worrying about the past nor the future. They realize that they live for the present, and it is not a belief they try to convince themselves of, or try to understand, it is a known way of life that nobody questions and takes as a matter of fact.

Lifestyle
Gaians are a simple people, each with their own individual taste. Some love to paint, some love to read, some play sports, and etc. However, there are things all Gaians love: relaxation, good food, and company of each other. Gaians spend their days doing things they love.

Gaians are a huge fan of the sun and they migrate to a warmer climate whenever the sunny days come to an end. This is a great time for Gaians because they are able to see different places.

Gaians don’t use drugs or alcohol, for harming one's own body is a number one no-no in Gaia. All Gaians value their life very much, and don’t want to cut down a minute of life by harming their bodies.

Music is a huge part of Gaian lifestyle. From awaking to sleeping, music is constantly with them. A typical day of an ordinary Gaian would consist of going out to the beach and playing or listening to music, and enjoying delicious food and the warmth of the sun; and then surrounding themselves with the freshness of the ocean. Gaians, being very fond of animals, especially dolphins, would often venture out into the blue waters with them. After their adventure, they would come back to the beach, lie down in the white sand and just relax in the warmth of the sun.

A 100 years or so earlier, when the planet was still called “Earth”, the rate of poverty and crime was almost as high as 50 per cent. Now, considering the ample reduction in population and the change in people’s values, the poverty and crime rate has reduced to a clean zero.

Technology
Technology is very limited in Gaia. The Gaians have not found a need for technology; life is already very satisfying. However, it has tremendously advanced food-making technology; this, they have found a need for. Gaians like to lavish themselves with good food and drinks as a daily basis. Gaia is also advanced in medical technology; it has found a cure for every known disease.

Everyone in Gaia is equal, wherever they live, whatever their status. Considering the great distance between scattered Gaians all over the world, it is impossible to keep in touch with every single one. Gaians enjoy meeting other members of their large but a family-like society. Most Gaians enjoy walking around with nothing on or with a piece of cloth for warmth.

Politics
Although the lifestyles of Gaians seem overly simple with no responsibilities, they are all entrusted with a duty; a burden, in some cases. A grave task of protecting their own people and the lifestyle they so much enjoy. They have learned and observed, throughout many years, the core reason for destruction of mankind: themselves. Each Gaian understands that it is their responsibility to protect their own race, and the only way to do that is by protecting it from their own sadistic nature. They have learned the cycle of the world, the butterfly effect that takes place once even one Gaian attempts an act of greed. Although the understanding is global and widely embraced, the Gaians altogether have decided that they could not take even the slightest risk for another tribulation because sometimes the natures comes out in unintentional and subconscious ways. Therefore, the citizens of Gaia, although they despise and aren’t accustomed to order and discipline, formed simple consequences when breaking the law of love and peace.
1. Live alone on an isolated island for 3 months
Loneliness is one of mankind’s biggest fears and this, the Gaians believed, was the ultimate punishment for trying to commit an act against love and kindness.

Religion
Gaia is tolerant of all religions, as long as it teaches a person love, kindness and humility. Churches and temples are built and ideas are free to be exchanged; however, Gaian also understand that no one religion or lack of religion is right or wrong, thus the freedom to worship or not worship and no attacks on any religion.

Economy
Gaians are a race of wisdom, liberty, and integrity. They understand, by looking at the past generations go into ruins, that money is really the root of all evil. There is no such thing as money in Gaia; the citizens trade goods, mostly just share, and live free from materialistic desires. Gaians live a very domestic lifestyle; they manufacture their own stuff from raw materials and if there is something one can’t make, he/she would trade with someone else who does have it.Unlike their ancestors of the destroyed world, the Gaians, having learned a valuable lesson, are careful not to spoil the wonderful world they have created.

The society of Gaia run mostly on the will of the citizens, despite the minor security and penalties. The citizens of Gaia’s actions are not limited by the rules; for most parts, they are free to do whatever they want. However, their nature and their upbringing has taught them to be loving and caring, selfless and relaxed. They understand that in order to keep the world the way it is, it is their responsibility to stop any evil or even human nature from interfering with the perfect life.

So do Gaians live with a lack of choice and are forced to live in a world of love when they want to venture into world of wealth and power? No. Their good intentions and actions are merely for their own happiness and the planet they life in.