August 23, 2010

My cousin Chris

I’ve only shared about two con­ver­sa­tions in my life with Chris — the last of which was about seven years ago — owing to the fact that we live on oppo­site coasts of the coun­try. But Darren and I rec­og­nized him as one of us: some­one who thinks for him­self and doesn’t buy into the whole Chinese cul­ture unques­tion­ingly. This is in con­trast to many of our other cousins, who seem to love their par­ents sim­ply because they were birthed by them, not nec­es­sar­ily because their par­ents are good people.

Chris hap­pened to be pass­ing by for a wed­ding, so I hosted him for two days. It was inter­est­ing to meet him at this point in our lives. I won­der if I’m actu­ally more sim­i­lar to Chris than I am to Darren, mainly because of how our cre­ativ­ity defines us. It was so easy for me to relate and talk to him. And as with Darren, I actu­ally felt like Chris was fam­ily, closer to a brother than a cousin, which is all too rare among my blood.

As an indus­trial designer he does amaz­ing draw­ings, full of vibrant colours that pop-off the page. I asked him to draw some­thing on my dry erase board because draw­ing is a cre­ative abil­ity not in my pos­ses­sion, and I find the process fas­ci­nat­ing. It was a logis­ti­cal chal­lenge because he would smear his exist­ing work every time he rested his hand on the board for stability.

He’s my exact oppo­site when it comes to health. He’s a vegan, while I’d find it impos­si­ble to give up meat, let alone but­ter and ice cream. He just lit­er­ally biked 100km a day across Canada, while my lifestyle could be con­sid­ered seden­tary at best, with only Tai Chi and some mild cal­is­then­ics in my exer­cise rou­tine. And yet we’re the same weight and shape. It’s sort of eerie to see him draw­ing in this video; aside from a shorter hair­cut, it’s almost like I’m watch­ing myself.

The time he spent here passed quickly, as I intro­duced him to the ukulele. Aside from catch­ing up and learn­ing about each other, most of the two days were spent exper­i­ment­ing and play­ing together. Eventually, we went to a music store and bought him his own Mahalo ukulele, which filled my heart with glee. Darren and Jeff are com­ing up for a visit next week, and hope­fully Chris will be able to hitch a ride with them for our ukulele band before we all head back to Toronto for Crystal’s wedding.

May 24, 2010

life being what it is

Darren came up from Toronto for a visit over the long weekend.

These ses­sions always ful­fill my quota of rela­tion­ship talk. When one admits to not want­ing to be in a rela­tion­ship, this is fol­lowed nat­u­rally by the ques­tion, “Would you go for it if you found the per­fect one right now?” from the other. Then in return, “If she came back to you and said she wanted to try again, but you only had a 50–50 per­cent chance of suc­cess, would you go for it?”

In our lit­tle duet, our philo­soph­i­cal col­lab­o­ra­tion, love is always a theme. No one else chal­lenges our psy­ches in this regard.

Trivial Pursuit night

 

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January 24, 2010

Oh my fuck

Remember how I was all like I can’t stop lis­ten­ing to Love and Greed, and it’s not even the best song on the album? But I never men­tioned the best song on the album, which is Violet’s Constellations, here:

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So Darren sent me this e-mail today:

from: Darren
to: Jeff
sub­ject: i don’t really know

he says whereeeeee where are you­u­u­u­u­u­u­uuu he says where are you goooooo-annnnnn!!!!!!!!!!

sheet

I’m gonna go see Magneta Lane with Jeff on Feb. 12 ion toronto
COME COME COME!!

CF a lit­tle later? I’m wait­ing for some guy to release some shares online

And the sub­ject + first line are the lyrics in the best part of Violet’s Constellations in the last verse, when Lexi is singing as the key­board kicks in again.

This is how in tune I am with Darren.

And then news of them IN CONCERT, when I had to miss the Blonde Redhead con­cert in Toronto last time to take part in Pat and Jen’s wed­ding rehearsal. I’ll def­i­nitely be tak­ing the day off to join them this time around. Maybe visit my dad too, since that’s his birthday.

(Isn’t it insane that out of 2384 posts I have right now, I can remem­ber the entries for these spe­cific events?)

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December 20, 2009

Magneta Lane and my Cousin Darren

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There’s been a smat­ter­ing of good music lately, but this is the song that haunts me; Love and Greed by Magneta Lane. I added it to my col­lec­tion on the 12th of October, and it’s already in my Top 20 Most Played. By no means is it the best song on the album; it’s just the one that hit me the hard­est.

To hear it as a track by itself is a lit­tle out of con­text. It comes as 7 of 10 off Gambling With God, their lat­est album, and the songs lead­ing up to it charge at a much faster pace. The dra­matic change of tone between the verses and the cho­rus are effec­tive in sub­tly draw­ing you in, against lyrics that should be screamed more than any­thing else.

My favourite part is when Lexi says, “I don’t want recy­cled love / if I did I’d pour wine in a cup / and get all liquored up / and fuck­ing crawl in front of you” when the gui­tar and bass stop, and it’s just Nadia doing the bum-ba-da-bum-ba-da-bum-ba-da-bum under­neath on her toms.

With the way she says fuck­ing with such sac­cha­rine soft­ness, one can’t help but won­der what intense sor­row could have caused this sullen, hon­eyed voice to spit such profanity.

It’s stuff like this that makes rather plain look­ing Lexi Valentine so god­dam attrac­tive, very much in a Karen O kind of way. I guess you could say I have a fas­ci­na­tion with Lexi swear­ing, because she does it so infrequently.

So…

I gave this song to Darren, and he sent me back this reply:

shit this song is on auto-repeat right now.… ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Darren’s the only per­son in the world who sees love the way I do. John knows me in every other way — logic, mind­set, emo­tion, per­son­al­ity, habits, taste — but he doesn’t under­stand my love, which is a big part of me. The only one who under­stands is Darren1 because we share the same quixotic ideas about it. It’s as if we devel­oped this roman­tic atti­tude as a back­lash to how our fathers (broth­ers, who also look the same) raised us with such aloof­ness. This ideal is how we bond.

One time he told me he can’t wait for the day when we’re at his house with our girl­friends, and we’re play­ing Cranium, and we’re just…happy.

This is how I know he’s the only per­son who hears this song the same way too.

  1. Not even my girl­friends have come close to under­stand­ing, aside from Bronwen. []
November 29, 2008

Dexter the Cat

Named after Dexter the ser­ial killer. You can’t keep this cat down. If you leave any­thing lying around that’s not more than 25 pounds, he’ll play with it. This usu­ally involves bat­ting, scratch­ing, knock­ing it off a table, or chew­ing it.

I sus­pect this is why Darren keeps his house so clean.

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June 25, 2008

Home Free

Thumbnail: Darren outside
Thumbnail: Tazo Berryblossom white tea
Thumbnail: Sausages, egg, and toast
Thumbnail: Dexter
Thumbnail: Bubble tea parlour
Thumbnail: Bubble tea
Thumbnail: Cigars
Thumbnail: Korean soup
Thumbnail: Dexter the cat in window
Thumbnail: Mall people
Thumbnail: Tempura roll
Thumbnail: Teriyaki beef
Thumbnail: Sliced orange
 

I left when the sun was set­ting. Along the way, the road stretched out infi­nitely before me, as if to say that I can always get away, and there is always more to go. The tree line danced and waved across the hori­zon, even­tu­ally dis­ap­pear­ing with the sun. Then the lines of red and white in each direc­tion guided me all the way to Darren’s house.

In it are lit­tle things from the house I grew up in — some can­dles here, some cab­i­nets there — that my par­ents didn’t want after the divorce. So strange to see innocu­ous objects from my child­hood in a dif­fer­ent setting.

It was the first time we’ve been com­pletely sober together since we were kids. No alco­hol, no weed.

I found out a cou­ple things I wouldn’t have known otherwise:

  • My dad started dat­ing some­one. He is cur­rently sin­gle again.
  • He has a dance floor at his house and a nice car. This is typ­i­cal of my dad, who loves his toys.
  • My mother is still insecure.
  • My par­ents still see each other, but not alone. The cur­rent social rule among the group of par­ents, is that you can’t invite one to a party with­out invit­ing the other.

A week­end of sweet indul­gence, late nights, and inti­mate con­ver­sa­tion. No one under­stands my rela­tion­ships the way Darren does, because we both share these quixotic ideas about love. It was so com­fort­ing to be able to express myself on these things with­out hav­ing to explain my under­ly­ing feel­ings, as if some­one could truly under­stand me, espe­cially impor­tant in this cur­rent phase of my life.

It made me real­ize that home isn’t where the par­ents are, some­thing I used to believe1. It’s an idea.

A com­fort­ing place you can go to get away, where you’re com­pletely accepted for who you are.

  1. I’m not sure exactly when I stopped believ­ing this, but it was prob­a­bly some­where between the time my par­ents got divorced and I stopped talk­ing to my mom. []
June 20, 2008

Road Trip

Two in one day…you know it’s serious.

I’m dri­ving out to see Darren for the week­end. He’s five hours away, and it’ll be my first trip out of the city in the car. My car.

There’s a cer­tain sat­is­fac­tion to fill­ing my trunk with odds and ends — tri­pod, san­dals, snacks — that I couldn’t have car­ried on a Greyhound bus. Got my GPS and a full tank of gas.

I had Summer Sun by Ellen ten Damme play­ing here.

I can’t wait to drive with the win­dows down while the sun is set­ting along the hori­zon, Summer Sun play­ing on the stereo. To be going some­where by myself.

Free.

Killed my top rated playlist at work. Even have all the songs burned to sev­eral CDs for the trip. My head is filled with lyrics. I may also begin my audio­book of Carson McCullers’s The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter.

I’m going through some hyper­ac­tive eupho­ria again, this con­tra­dic­tory feel­ing of the scary and excit­ing unknown. The best part about hang­ing out with Darren is that each of us under­stands exactly how the other feels, even though we may not under­stand it in our­selves. Something which is espe­cially impor­tant right now, even though I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.

I just need to get away for a while.

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May 30, 2007

A Weekend with Darren

I had Darren over from Toronto for the week­end. We were going to do a movie marathon at the the­atre — three in a day — but the movies all sucked. Disturbia? Georgia Rule? Please. Instead, I bought the first sea­son of Six Feet Under, and we fin­ished the roughly 11 hour sea­son over two days. Now I can re-watch it with Bronwen and lend it to Pat. To be hon­est, I’d seen up to the sec­ond sea­son before, but I was too stoned to remem­ber most of it.

Thumbnail: Air-tight tea container

Thumbnail: Chai tea

Darren also gave me a nice tea con­tainer. It’s rather large, since I buy my tea 50mg at a time, but bet­ter too big than too small. He also got me some chai tea, con­sid­ered a well­ness blend. When I asked him what for, he couldn’t give me a rea­son. I love gifts for no reason.


We shared our tat­too ideas, and his was the Chinese char­ac­ter for love on his back. Darren and Bronwen are the some of the few peo­ple I can talk openly with about love. We’re such hope­less roman­tics. We tell each other that we’ll never be mar­ried, not to be self-depracating, but to be hon­est with our­selves. We have our ideals, and we’ll never set­tle for any­thing less. It’s com­fort­ing to know that we’re not alone in our quixotic beliefs.

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March 30, 2006

A Quiet St. Patty’s Among Others

Thumbnail: Old film Canon
Thumbnail: Lindsay's place
Thumbnail: Darren
Thumbnail: Lindsay
Thumbnail: Incense
Thumbnail: Digsby the cat
Thumbnail: Candelabra
Thumbnail: Scrabble game
Thumbnail: The look

Darren and I had orig­i­nally planned on dri­ving up together, but the tim­ing didn’t work out, so we arrived when we could and played it by ear. Bronny was the point of my visit, while Darren was there to see Lindsay. After a dri­ving from pub to pub, each one full of St. Patty’s day partiers adorned with green horns and hold­ing green pints, the four of us ended up at a small restau­rant, and even­tu­ally at Lindsay’s house.

It was Bronny who made the most inter­est­ing com­ment to me after­wards. “Darren needs to be with someone…deep”, she said, “Someone intel­lec­tual”. I still won­der what made her think so. What did we talk about? As far as I could remem­ber, there was no par­tic­u­larly inter­est­ing dis­cus­sion, just a bunch of us hang­ing out.

But she was right.

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December 26, 2005

Boxing Day ’04-’05

[kml_flashembed movie=”/videos/events/boxingday04/boxing_day.swf” width=“480” height=“335” wmode=“transparent”/]

Exactly one year ago today, I was doing this. Even though the annual party at Chris and Clarmen’s actu­ally starts on the 25th, I really see it as a box­ing day party, the way a New Year’s party really starts on the 31st of December.

That night we used the excuse of going to Timmies for all the par­ents as a way out of the house to have a ses­sion. Unfortunately, this meant remem­ber­ing about a dozen drink orders, some­thing that proves dif­fi­cult under the influence.

In chrono­log­i­cal order:

  1. We met up at the house, where Darren’s fin­gers brave the turtles
  2. A ses­sion occurred out­side, and on the way to Timmies we intro­duced Chris to Dreamtheater (hence the music selection)
  3. An order is made for about a dozen drinks with great difficulty
  4. We drove back to play Slap Hand, which is a vari­a­tion on Slap Jack, except the pile is hit every time the cor­rect num­ber is called (and for increased dif­fi­culty we played with +/- rules where the pile is only hit if the num­ber spo­ken is an addi­tion or sub­trac­tion of a dif­fer­ent spec­i­fied number)
  5. Darren ran­domly deals every­one a hand of hold ‘em and plays it through, and this causes me to make fun of his obvi­ous addiction
  6. Darren pre­cisely deals a full hand of 13 cards for a game of Asshole, while talk­ing, for which I count my cards in dis­be­lief and finally real­ize just how much he plays cards

Other signs of how stoned we were:

  • Darren and Chris’s voices drop an octave, while my voice raises two (two!)
  • I can’t keep my jit­tery hands under control
  • The way Chris says, “Just awe­some guys. Awesome.”
  • At one point we have to stop to count to the right num­ber in Slap Hand
  • I laugh, a lot

This year, today, Lam joined us instead since Darren is off in Las Vegas.

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October 26, 2005

Thrice = Love: As The Crucible

True friends stab you in the front
Keep you from get­ting what you want
When one more fix could kill you
They help you real­ize that
You’re more and less than you first had believed
You’ve so much to give and there’s so much you need
Shortcuts through grave­yards and a brand new way to breathe
Three thou­sand miles just to learn
All that’s gold does not all shine
And help­ing words aren’t always kind
When one more kiss could kill you
They help you real­ize that
You’re more and less than you first had believed
You’ve so much to give and there’s so much you need
Shortcuts through grave­yards and a brand new way to breathe
Three thou­sand miles just to learn
How to let my guard down

—Thrice,The Beltsville Crucible

When you look back at the prob­lems you faced a year ago, they seem insignif­i­cant com­pared to the prob­lems you face now. Finding out how things end up, and see­ing the path that your actions have paved, makes every­thing passed seem sim­ple and log­i­cal. Even know­ing this, I still look back on a time when I was faced with a trou­bling dilemma, a sit­u­a­tion where I con­tinue to won­der what I may have done dif­fer­ently. At the time, I brought my trou­bles up to Darren, a per­son with whom I could always con­fide with­out being judged.

His advice was to give no advice at all. He told me that he under­stood how I dealt with my prob­lems, being one to always weigh the options care­fully, and that he knew I would make the right deci­sion. Perhaps being his older cousin, the one he him­self has always turned to for advice, made the sit­u­a­tion strange to him. Nonetheless, it was the first time I had expe­ri­enced such a trust, and it was heart­en­ing to know that some­one respected me enough to put his faith in me before I know­ing what my choice was.

I admit­ted this to John, and he told me that the worst mis­take he could make was assum­ing that I would make the right deci­sions. As he put it, it’s his job to keep me in check and make me con­stantly ques­tion the things that I do. Of course, he always presents things tact­fully, so he doesn’t end up hurt­ing more than helping.

Neither Darren or John is more cor­rect than the other, because it all depends on the rela­tion­ship. You need some friends to under­stand what you do. You need other friends to stab you in the front. I know I can count on Darren to accept my deci­sions, and I know I can count on John to give me the hon­est truth when I need it. The impor­tant part is the respect that goes both ways. Without respect, an opin­ion is mean­ing­less. My intro­duc­tion to the dominant/submissive lifestyle has given this even more significance.

Gimmie a girl who I can respect enough to under­stand this, and who can respect me enough to be her crucible.

The Thrice = Love Series

  1. Introduction
  2. The Journey
  3. As The Crucible
  4. Rock It
  5. The Rush
  6. Far From The End
August 30, 2004

Home For Bubble Tea

Thumbnail: Bubble tea shop

Went home for the week­end, spent it with Darren. It was a gloomy few days; cloudy, humid, and gen­er­ally uncomfortable.

At one point, Darren asked me if it felt like home, or whether my apart­ment here has taken the role. I couldn’t really answer him at the time. I just knew that they feel dif­fer­ent. We lit up in a park that I used to play in while I was still in ele­men­tary school, and it felt odd to be stoned in a beau­ti­fully empty play­ground in the mid­dle of Saturday, sur­rounded by all these upper-middle class houses with their pools and patios. Places that aren’t com­fort­able, but familiar.

June 5, 2004

Nothing Else Matters

I don’t know why I didn’t fig­ure this out before, but I guess the good thing is that I know bet­ter now. Maybe it was all too sim­ple to see.

Friendship is all or noth­ing. Friends are the all, the ones I’d give my life for, the ones that I uncon­di­tion­ally accept. Non-friends are the noth­ing, the ones I couldn’t care less about. The ones that don’t fit in either cat­e­gory, due to insuf­fi­cient infor­ma­tion to make such a deci­sion, are acquain­tances (and some remain acquain­tances forever).

Unconditional accep­tance is the tough­est part of friend­ship, because it’s the biggest com­mit­ment. It’s the biggest rea­son that I con­sider such few peo­ple to be my friends. It’s so easy to walk away when peo­ple change, when peo­ple grow apart. It’s not so easy to accept and under­stand, espe­cially for some­one as self­ish and with as lit­tle tol­er­ance as me. A friend is a friend for life.

I love you, Aaron.

I love you, Darren.

I love you, John.

I love you, Pat.

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May 11, 2003

Sedentary

I’ve been back for two days, and I’m still busy. I haven’t played a game of WC3 in over a week and a half. I think peo­ple would gen­er­ally be wor­ried about me if I told them this with­out let­ting them know that I didn’t have access to a decent com­puter. I can hon­estly say that the last two weeks have been the best trip home I’ve ever had.

I’ll never for­get dri­ving to the park to blaze with Darren and Chris or Jeff or Jerry. The park was always aban­doned at that time of night, sur­rounded by a field on one side, and a row of middle-class houses on the other. I always sus­pected that the peo­ple eat­ing din­ner with their blinds open knew that we were doing some­thing illicit when sparks would light up our faces in the black­ness of the field. Standing in the mid­dle of the play­ground, with its sand-covered tables or dual-sided slide con­trap­tions, made me feel com­fort­ably at peace. The area was devoid of traf­fic (and hence noise) and there was no light pol­lu­tion to dilute the glam­our of the glit­ter­ing sky.

Afterwards, get­ting hun­gry, we would drive to the McDonalds drive-through (since the reg­u­lar joint was closed at that time of night), and order an inor­di­nate amount of food. Eating would always con­sist of park­ing in a nearby lot, lit from long lamps that seemed to want to touch the sky, and rolling down the Civic’s win­dows. The wide, open space of the park­ing lot would rarely see any­one drive through, and we were left eat­ing com­fort­ably in silence (albeit with the hum of the A/C in the back­ground), when food never tasted so good.

We would hit the clos­est Timmies after­wards, need­ing cof­fee and some­how more food. The place was always empty, and from two to four in the morn­ing we were the only cus­tomers, get­ting two large teas and two cheese strudels please. I won­dered how much money could have been made by stay­ing open 24 hours a day, pay­ing the two employ­ees work­ing the night shift while see­ing us as the only cus­tomers, pur­chas­ing food but stay­ing well over the cour­tesy limit. I’ll never for­get how brightly lit the place was, with it’s lugubri­ous employee seem­ingly mop­ping the floor for an eter­nity while Chris and Darren chat­ted end­lessly about the more humourous aspects of their friends facial fea­tures. I would look out the win­dow and see cars pass by on the main road every so often, won­der­ing how I’ve missed such a good time my whole life.

Time spent with John was just as good. We watched Elizabeth (Geoffrey Rush and Fanny Ardent had the best parts), The Transporter (ter­ri­ble), The Good Thief (very good), Jackass Movie (just as good the sec­ond time), and Better Luck Tomorrow (very enjoy­able). We bought Timesplitters 2 for his PS2 and played quite a bit of co-operative cam­paign and switched to death­match when we felt the need to match testosterone.

He would give me a ride home every night which ended up tak­ing about an hour due to the DVP being closed for con­struc­tion. We rode along the dark city streets, lis­ten­ing to Air Supply and talked about any­thing from implanted human desires to how fucked up our rela­tion­ships have been to our future plans.

I real­ized that, as good a time as I was hav­ing at home, I still wouldn’t move back there. I’m com­fort­able here, and I’m able to much bet­ter appre­ci­ate the time I spend with my friends or fam­ily if it’s not too often. I have some­thing to look for­ward to.

Something that is rare.

February 20, 2003

My Turn

Darren and I were talk­ing about the unre­quited feel­ings we’ve expe­ri­enced, and he asked me if I ever felt like no other per­son could ever match up to the per­son I felt the strongest about. I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I was afraid of the truth, and I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

I real­ize that it’s some­thing I have to face, because it has affected my relationships.

Yes, I am very scared.

Sometimes I feel emo­tion­ally numb, as if I’ll never have the same feel­ings again. Infatuations end up being silly fris­sons. I’m not sure whether it was the inten­sity of my feel­ing, the fact that it was sim­ply the first time, or even if it’s the fact that I haven’t met the right per­son yet.

It ter­ri­fies me when a female has many qual­i­ties that I feel are impor­tant for a rela­tion­ship, but I have no feel­ings for them. It makes me think that I have some set of lofty stan­dards that can’t be met. I feel hor­ri­ble about it. I feel like a monster.

How can I know what I feel is true? How can one be sure of such fickle, con­scious­ness alter­ing emo­tions? It’s so dif­fi­cult to remain cere­bral in such cir­cum­stances, espe­cially when the absence of such an adjec­tive is what defines such emotions.

I’m barely scratch­ing the sur­face on a sub­ject I have so lit­tle expe­ri­ence about. What can some­one like me say about such things? I should hum­ble myself to oth­ers. I only know that I’m scared.

I’m scared that I’ll never fall in love again.

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