Monthly Archives: March 2005

A Favour House Mine

We were at the house late last night, build­ing desks and fill­ing dry­wall holes. I decided not to sleep in this morn­ing, because I needed the time to get work done, although I also needed sleep to get it done prop­erly. There are mailouts to com­plete, state­ment stuffers to design, bitmaps to vec­tor­ize, and count­less other things for which I’m respon­si­ble. I con­vinced myself that I’ve (begrudg­ingly) gone through enough tor­tur­ing days of lit­tle sleep for some­one else, so it would be more appro­pri­ate if I did it for myself now.

Stepping out­side, the chill of win­ter morn­ing still in the air against the early light of spring, I skipped nine tracks until Claudio started singing, in his shift­ing, melodic voice:

Bye bye beau­ti­ful
Don’t bother to write

My lethargy turned into energy, as I thought of how things have worked out based on the deci­sions I made. How I could die happy right now, although I’d pre­fer to wait at least two weeks if given the choice.

The way I seem to have every­thing I deserve, and noth­ing that I don’t.

Yoghurt And Rice

Someone used a yoghurt and rice exam­ple on me the other day. In his beau­ti­ful Lebanese accent, he told me, “It’s like yoghurt and rice. I can explain it to you, but you won’t under­stand until you try it for your­self.” There must be sev­eral other ways of say­ing the same thing, but the most inter­est­ing I’ve ever heard was two exam­ples at once: Taco Bell and anal sex.

Now I’m dying to try yoghurt and rice. I’m guess­ing that it would only work if it’s white rice (jas­mine fra­granced would be neu­tral enough), and a plain, non-fruity, yoghurt.

Case In Point

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haha­ha­ha­ha­hah­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­haa­ha­ha­haha
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Exp

Today, I got to pick the restau­rant. I chose one that’s always bustling on the week­ends, even when there isn’t a wed­ding recep­tion being hosted, named after the Yangtze River in China. There was a mix­ture of lan­guage in the air, due to the fact that I was sur­rounded by large Chinese fam­i­lies, catch­ing up on each oth­ers lives, and young Caucasian cou­ples, on their Friday night dates. The fam­i­lies were all famil­iar. I could relate to every young boy in them, try­ing to fin­ish his deep fried crab claw balls while con­cen­trat­ing on the game in his GameBoy. The couples…

I thought about the time we walked around those long, ster­ile aisles that only you could take me to. There were small plants of basil next to a mis­cel­la­neous food item sam­ple stand, and it was my first time smelling the aroma of a live stalk. What a dras­tic dif­fer­ence it was from the basil I bought in a con­tainer, or labelled as “FRESH” when they were ripped from the roots before transportation.

For some rea­son, I feel like steak”.

Someone from another cou­ple over­heard and couldn’t help laughing.

I know exactly what you mean”, the man jovially said.

We looked for a steak­house after­ward. On the high­way, I asked for a sug­ges­tion. Your knowl­edge of the local restau­rants was always wider than mine. I gave rea­sons against your first two pro­pos­als, and you refused to con­tinue, frus­trated. I thought about the time we tried to find a game we could both get into, and you rejected the first eight. How dif­fi­cult it was to not kick that Gamecube into the wall, and yet I didn’t say a word, some­thing I could only con­trol because of how much I still cared at that point. I put my foot down to make a deci­sion (much bet­ter than the alter­na­tive), and we set off for a tep­pa­nyaki steakhouse.

It was a place that I saved for cel­e­bra­tions. We were seated alone at a table usu­ally reserved for eight, along with a lone per­former, twirling his knife and flip­ping his flip­per. A cel­e­bra­tion of us we agreed.

And I decided that those cou­ples around me weren’t so unfa­mil­iar either.

March Books

Thumbnail: March books

I love the feel of a new book. Before the cor­ners are dented, when the cover is still slip­pery smooth.

Guy Gavriel KayThe Last Light Of The Sun
I was a huge fan of Tigana (although not so much Fionavar Tapestry, even if it was partly based in the city I grew up in). I don’t even like fan­tasy books, and Tigana is on the list of my top five books of all time.

Carol ShieldsThe Republic Of Love
As I said in a pre­vi­ous post, I was in the mood for some­thing mod­ern although I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I was also in the mood for some­thing roman­tic. I found out about this book when I noticed Karen read­ing it dur­ing last years May 2–4 camp­ing trip.

Mordecai RichlerThe Apprenticeship Of Duddy Kravitz
Ever since I read The World According To Garp, a book full of lust, humour, pas­sion, and life, dis­cov­ered from the “Recommended Reading” list that my high school pub­lished every year, I had a deep rep­sect for the books I was exposed to in class. However, two English classes meant two dif­fer­ent cur­ricu­lums. When I was study­ing The Great Gatsby, the other class was study­ing To Kill A Mockingbird. When they were doing A Prayer For Owen Meany, I was doing Pride And Prejudice. The Apprentiship of Duddy Kravitz is to make of up for the time I spent study­ing The Catcher In The Rye.

It was only a few days after I bought these three books that I real­ized every sin­gle one of these authors is Canadian. Why does this coun­try rule so fuck­ing much.