Monthly Archives: February 2007

Rob’s Bachelor Party Weekend

Thumbnail: Aaron
Thumbnail: Aaron
Thumbnail: Jeff

As far as bachelor parties go, Rob’s was a low-key deal. Seven of us in all. Half were from out of town, so we drove to Kingston to meet up.

Thumbnail: Lincoln Town Car
Thumbnail: Lincoln Logo

The first stop was Aaron’s dad’s house. Parked in his driveway was a 1980s Lincoln Continental Town Car, before they started to downsize the series. It’s a massive car, with what looks like a complete couch in the back. As the coupe, it wasn’t even the full-size model. This is the only car that pimps teal.


Most of the day was spent giving each other welts in speedball, which I learned is a testosterone fused version of paintball. All speed and all accuracy. I wasn’t used to a lack of conventional cover (in favour of inflatables), or the small playing area, but managed to survive without any body hits.

Of course, being his bachelor party weekend, we had to put Rob on his own team, though he didn’t quite find out until it happened. This follows the tradition of other fraternizing celebrations, such as birthday beats.


It was back to the hotel to get changed, and off to Rob’s favourite place to eat, which was a Chinese buffet. It also happened to be Chinese New Year, so they had an entire roast suckling pig, though no one else dared to try it until I assured them it was safe.

More time was spent back at the hotel, in the hot tub, playing poker poker, breaking electric heaters in the exercise room.


Before leaving the next morning, we went across the street to the conveniently placed Golden Griddle, an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet for the gluttonous masses. I've never been one to get their money's worth out of buffets, but I'm sure that Rob and Aaron more than made up for my relatively small portion. I can't imagine putting such lead into my stomach every weekend. Unlimited bacon and sausages should be reserved for bachelor parties, business contracts, and maybe the occasional bris.

Drinking was limited; Rob was still recovering from strep throat, as can be heard in the videos. More energy was spent making sure Sergio had a successful blind date; a testament to how much Rob takes care of his homies.

The Many Faces of Bronwen

Bronwen is my original muse. We happened to meet shortly after I got my SLR camera, and ever since, she’s my primary model when doing photographic tests and experiments.

These were taken over the course of about a year. From before we started dating to passed the break-up.

Every angle captures a different side of someone.

Thumbnail: Dark and brooding
Thumbnail: The hoodie attitude.
Thumbnail: Against the wall
Thumbnail: Classy cleavage
Thumbnail: Cute mode
Thumbnail: Emo.
Thumbnail: The trustworthy companion look.
Thumbnail: The innocent look
Thumbnail: Bronwen revolution.
Thumbnail: The porcelain doll look.
Thumbnail: The cozy look.
Thumbnail: Trusting

Looking back on these reminds me of how much I miss it when she had red hair, which she dyed for me (but didn’t like to admit it). Too bad I can’t convince her now to do it again.

The Old Boys of '99: Providing Ignorance as Bliss

I decided to privatize the profiles in my “Old Boys of ’99” series from now on. Much like this blog, the series was meant to be a sort of memoir, a way for me to reminisce about the past. A low-key deal.

One of my fellow Old Boys found out, and it appears that word-of-mouth is spreading like wild-fire. Visits have increased considerably as links are being e-mailed back and forth.

Funny that my humble opinions and observations have generated such an interest.

I never thought that I made any kind of impression on anyone at Upper Canada College, or that anyone I went to school with would actually care to see what I wrote. Evidence of this fact is that I only keep in touch with two people from those days in high-school.

This is a first for me. There were a few times that I considered password protecting my posts, simply because I thought certain things would be too embarrassing to admit or talk about, but I’ve always forced myself to be honest and open.

This series, on the other hand, is where I’m honest about other people. Some of them took offense to what they read in one entry. They lashed out at me, because they didn’t like what was being said.

It’s hard for some to accept the truth.

They’d rather live in denial, or stay oblivious about what other people think of them, and can only cover it up with anger. I’ve made the decision that it’s best for them not to know.

Those who know me well will know the password. Those who don’t may apply.

The Old Boys of ’99 Series

  1. Introduction
  2. Another Perspective
  3. Seeto and Bunston
  4. Mungovan and King
  5. Providing Ignorance as Bliss
  6. My Perspective

A Change Of Tea

So I wasn’t being completely honest when I said no more tea. I’d simply switched from black to orange tea. Even that didn’t work though, and a mild panic attack had me down to even lighter, Chinese tea.

A warm, relaxing mug can be rather addicting.

Thumbnail: Green tea
Thumbnail: Longjing
Thumbnail: Rose green tea
Thumbnail: Green tea mug
Thumbnail: Leaves macro

The great thing about tea is that it doesn’t just taste good, it serves a purpose. Cleanses the palette. Aids digestion. Combats the Yang of greasy foods with Yin. Green tea in the morning serves to awaken the senses. Longjing calms the mind at night.

The steeping process is beautiful. Green tea is especially prone to scorching, so the water can’t be too hot, or the tea will turn bitter. Not hot enough, and the leaves won’t fully release their flavour.

Note: Each frame of the video is a different photograph, taken five seconds apart. About thirty minutes in total.

To Eat And To Forgive

It’s Friday. Pizza day. At Louise’s house, the parents don’t feel like cooking, and the kids get a treat.

The slices are out. The salad’s in the serving bowl. Everyone has an accommodating fork, napkin, and slice. I see Eric move a hand to his face in the corner of my eye, and assume that he’s started eating.

As the guest, this means I’m allowed to eat too. I take a bite out of my slice, but before I can even chew, I realize that Eric was just scratching his beard. With a smile on his face, he says “Don’t forget about grace, Jeff”.

It’s a double whammy.

Not only am I a rude guest, mistakenly eating first, but I’m a heathen too, disrespectful of their religion.

It reminded me of something that happened when I was a teenager. Matt was over. Pizza night. As the guest, Matt got the first slice. He waited while the rest were being handed out, but my dad, without any sense of formality, took a bite as soon as he had one. Neither of my parents noticed, but there was a startled look on Matt’s face. He quickly closed his eyes, held a fist to his face (not a clenched one, but as if holding the beads of a Rosary), and said a prayer in his head.

I always imagined that it went, “ThankyouGodforthispizzaandformygracioushosts”, because he was done so quickly.

It made me wonder, what was in that look? What do those who ask thanks of their meal think of those who don’t? What do Christians think of those who don’t say grace? What do Muslims think of those who don’t fast? Are we unappreciative? Do we take our food for granted?

Eric’s tone is kind though, not condescending or judgmental, as if to say, “We only ask you to do this for the sake of our kids”.

Louise asks Sarah if she’d like to say grace. She sings a song that bears a striking — excuse the pun — resemblance to the melody of the Westminster quarters (along with choreography).

Hark to the chimes (arms held upwards and open)
Come bow your head (hands together in prayer)
We thank thee lord (arms upward again)
For this good bread (hands together again)

But as a seven-year-old, Sarah doesn’t know the right words. She says “heart” instead of “hark”. “You” instead of “thee”.

No one mentions it though. Not everyone is perfect. One can be forgiven.

Even me, I hope.