Happy New Year!

Jorghnassen and I wish you all a Happy New Year from Chicoutimi!

We're going to be heading down towards Waterloo starting tomorrow morning. (One guess who will be driving the Rav4 for most of the way.)

An Awesome Christmas Present!

I am taking my annual post-Christmas visit with Jorgh in Chicoutimi until the new year. Jorghnassen's father took Jorgh and I to the local SAAQ this morning, where he officially signed over his 1997 Rav4 to Jorghnassen. So now it is my our car and we are ready to go!

Yay! Thank you!

Merry Christmas!

I wish you all very happy holidays this season, and hope you are spending time with your loved ones and enjoying your time together, despite the less-than-white weather on the east side of the country and pretty awful dumps the west was blessed with.

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And without furthur ado, here is the year-end round-up. I will probably forget to do this later this week from the miscellany of things to worry about - like getting a car and figuring out what I'll be doing in Chicoutimi after Christmas.

The many things (or lack of things) that happened this year are more or less well documented on my blog. Thus, dear readers (new and old and in-between) can peruse the archives and get the gist of each moment from A to Z - agony to zen.

January
Had weird dreams, and was also introduced to supply teaching at the adult education center. Posted some interesting art, along with a first foray in vectorizing. Douchebaggery continues.

February
Started to regularly supply teach at a school where it felt like total chaos. Most likely not my fault.

March
Stopped supply teaching at the school because it was total chaos. Not really my fault. Also: whining about taxes again.

April
Uploaded some cover songs/music on Tindeck produced by myself on violin and a shitty microphone on a headset. Surprised the bejeezus out of Norm. Somehow a minor internet celebrity stumbles upon this blog. And my brother starts becoming more of a real life celebrity.

May
Start of gardening season because the snow didn't melt until then. More douchebaggery occurs.

June
Actual training for Run for the Cure began, when I could have started earlier. The school year wound down with a good note, with the first foray into supply teaching French for elementary school, involving a violin...?

July
Wrote some short stories, attempting some creativity. Went to Boston! And Waterloo. But Boston! Sorry... Bwawston.

August
Focused on running some more, and attending the third wedding of the summer. Some more vector photoshopping!

September
Sketch that turned into a t-shirt (idea). Ran a bunch more. There was some sort of birthday in there somewhere.

October
Ran the race! Revisited Waterloo with Jorghnassen to help him move in. Hives. :(

November
Went to Montreal for the teacher's convention, and ended up staying two weeks due to being sick and losing my voice. :(:(

December
Spent some time in Montreal to help Jorghnassen become a doctor. ;) On a whim, I answered an ad for a teacher needed in Waterloo, and surprisingly enough I got the job. Now agonizing over getting a used car.

And to end on a cute note, here is a flash game about a bunny. Snow included!

A Can of Worms? Open?

To my relief, I secured a part-time job teaching math at a private high school outside of Waterloo, with Jorghnassen's help, starting in early January. The details of the job are still lacking, but the major detail in my quest for sanity has been more or less fulfilled. On the other hand, it caused a much bigger "deal" than it fixed: zero public transit and a 20 km commute.

I had thought of every single possible way I could get there on a regular basis.

Carpooling would be the most obvious one (and most feasible) if only I had asked the principal when he offered me the job; but I was only given his cell number and it apparently costs a crapton for him to use it for incoming calls... thus I am still rather reluctant on calling him through that number again. (And I know what you are going to say, so don't say it and stop saying it!)

Someone suggested getting a bike; cheap and ideal, but I loathe to find out what kind of physical shape I am in right now. Last summer, it took me 2 hours to travel 20+ km uphill, and 1 hour to roll it downhill.

Car sharing is great, but would run up quite a bill for daily commuting, compared to the final option:

Buying a car.

(The absolutely, unquestionably retarded option my mum demanded from me, despite it not being her decision, was that I take a cab every single day until I "matured" enough to know enough about cars to get one, which would take at least a year, and even then she told me I was "too stupid" to own a car. I won't even begin on ranting on the stupidity of this.)

I thought of buying a scooter or car as the absolute last option (barring the above), as I know probably less about scooters and cars than anyone I know, and I have the most overbearing, insane family of anyone I know. Fortunately, as I am the most inept of all my acquaintances, I have the option of asking advice from everyone else. And here are a few nuggets!

Rachel's brother, Pat, who had accompanied us to Bwawston, works with and studies in cars, and has a classmate who could probably locate a suitable used auto. He also offered to service it in his school. This would be in Montreal.

Ian has prevoiusly advised me to buy in Ontario, as the transfer between provinces would cost more than it was worth, but as I was uncertain whether I had time to do that before the job started, I opted for the former.

Shhh! told me that car dealerships would take care of everything in a pretty timely manner, and that it was well worth it for him.

Davy said to look into cheap enough cars within $3000 (if I could only think the costs would end at $3000 :( ).

And alas, I know naught about scooters except deep-voiced Eugene has one that he commutes with in Ottawa to the bus station. Though scooters seem quite cute. :)

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To excuse my absence, I have been helping Jorghnassen fix up his presentation for his Ph.D. defense last Monday. Which he then passed with flying colours!

Photo

Hmm... something's a little off here...!

New Blogger Features :)

You might have noticed a few slight changes in the last little while. Firstly, I finally decided to fix the titles of each post, but I have to do them manually (ugh) because I was too clumsy to figure out where the "Title Field" button was. Secondly, I have the new option (courtesy of Blogger Beta) to put labels on each post, so now I am going to go back and do them at the same time. So don't be alarmed when you see your name for some reason in the labels even if I didn't mention you explicitly, because I am probably 1) making notes to myself and 2) wrong - where option 2 is more likely than 1. Thirdly, I put a site meter link at the very bottom of the page, like Jorgh's, so that everyone can see which person with a mysterious IP address is visiting our blogs.

Hopefully all these changes can lead you to a more pleasant and enjoyable blog-reading experience as you laugh at all the related things I've done, such as getting sick and/or paranoid.

P.S. Sorry for killing your news readers. :(
P.P.S. I think I might not have understood the concept of labels, because I think I have too many. :(:(

Return of the Christmas Tree!

Incidentally, the digital camera ceased functioning correctly this year, probably due to the contact points with the batteries, so I didn't get to take instant photos of the tree-making process this year. :(

To make up for it, below are the previous 3 years' Christmas Tree(s). They are all pointing to the left.



Why, you may ask, through the passage of time do all these trees look the same? It is because we have had this artificial tree for more than 20 years, and the ornaments for at least 15. On top of putting the tree together year after year over the last 20 years, I have had to do it by myself in the last three or four years, and I still haven't figured out which colour code on the tip of the bristle goes at which level of the tree. And every year, the tree seems to look worse.

From loss of its plastic needles to the vacuum cleaner, to the decrease of its perpendicularity from the demands of gravity, the plastic tree has its quirks.

Nevermind that the holes along the "trunk" of the tree have been deteriorating over time, to the point where it can barely hold up the stems of the bristles. Nor that the original plastic base that came with the tree broke into smithereens ages ago and we took to using a metal base meant for an actual tree to sit in, with parts that are meant to be drilled into the actual tree stump to hold it into place, thus destroying the "trunk" even further. Nor that the parts all get twisted and stuffed into a box at the end of every season, and come out looking even more flattened the next holiday. And dressing up the tree in rather (real) old-skool child-made ornaments pretty much guarantees the perpetual pathetic antiquated look.

This is an ode, to you, tree. Some people hold their real trees more dearly than an artificial one; but you, reliable friend, have never caught on fire and for that I truly appreciate you.

Other Freebies!

The cereal box (General Mills brand) offers free books too, through their "Bite Into Books" program. My mum likes to buy cereal in general (on sale, once again), so there are often four to five boxes of them sitting on the shelf. Last month, two boxes had that "specially marked" special code inside that could be redeemed for free books on their site. Wow!

At first, I thought their offerings were only targetted towards kids, but there is a set aimed for the adults who bought the cereal in the first place. I picked two books, written by John Lithgow: a children's book called Micawber, and Lithgowpalooza (no longer listed there for a soon-to-be uncovered reason).

Although I almost forgot about the book offer, I still remember which books I picked and I was slightly dismayed when I received the mail a few days ago with a rather light envelope that only contained one book. Then I opened the envelope and was even more dismayed to be holding the absolute last choice, Little Red Book. The accompanying letter mocked me further by lauding my choice of book(s?) and invited me to redeem further wonderful books such as this one.

Yes, Lithgowpalooza is all gone now. :(

P.S. Haha London Ontario

Free Samples!

I visit RedFlagDeals once in a while to find some online deals in Canada, and often I will just click and browse the Freebies. Well, nothing beats the perplexed expression my mum gets from the odd freebie arriving in the mail, addressed to her, opening the envelope and the "WTF" reaction. Except I was not awake this morning when this 59-year-old woman pulled out the o.b. sample, with a letter expressing futile hopes that she enjoys the trial pack.

Today, I signed up for the Olay regenerating cream sample, to make up for the awkward morning.

Chinese Vegetable and... Banks AGAIN?

As some of you might have witnessed, I have been growing some (unidentified) chinese vegetable over the last few months on my window sill. A few of them have grown to a harvestable size while I was gone, so my mum cooked it for me. Not bad, for about 3 months of agonizing over their stunted growth!

Desjardins called me today to give me another reason to bitch at them and about them, again. In a nutshell, the caisse changed their accounts last month, resulting in their unsuspecting clients having to pay fees for each transaction unless the client indicates otherwise. So I ended up paying for a bunch of transactions because their letter to me did not mention this.

I ranted to Big Pu last night about this, and both of us wanted to know if there were a way to protest their stupid new account structures. Protest? Because they're not a bank but a cooperative, which should mean we are supposed to have a say on this. I admit that I am a bad co-op member because I did not stay well-informed. The people who decided on making stupid user fees are even worse. But whoever voted these dumbasses in who created this shit should be punched in the kidneys.

Social Anxiety, and Banks... Again.

Being cooped up indoors 24/7 for much too long, I also realize when I have to conquer the urges of hiding away from the world and reaching outside when I need to. So at least when I have an issue, like not being paid for work done, I can overcome stupid fears, like that of using the telephone, and try to figure out who messed up. Fortunately, I didn't have to get upset at people to fix the problem over the line, and things are resolved.

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I have an aversion to the telephone because the fact that I cannot see a person's reaction when I speak to them already comprimises a part of my brain telling me if I am being unwelcome or not. It comes from my deep-rooted insecurity, and the memories and fears of rejection that has plagued me throughout my inexplicable childhood. Thus, I would rather conduct transactions and communicate face-to-face as much as possible, comforted by the physical presence of a person.

However, the bank (or cooperative) is another issue. One time several years ago when I started studying at McGill, the caisse populaire didn't allow me to pay my tuition bill at the teller without charging me extra for some stupid reason, and the fact that the teller was cold and unhelpful didn't improve my thoroughly negative impression of banks.

I have never, ever liked banks. I would rather hide my money in a pillowcase in a box in a concrete vault at the bottom of the ocean on another planet in another galaxy. Unfortunately, on this planet, normal everyday monetary transactions require a person with some profession or other to have an account at a financial institution. Thus, I have one, at the Caisse Populaire Desjardins. And I avoid it as much as possible. (Though I avoid the RBC even moreso.)

But their internet banking gives me relief. Internet banking is a godsend, and should have come much, much sooner. I can pay my bills online. And I can OC-ly check my account every ten seconds to make sure they are paid.

Except if I am using Firefox, apparently. My second call of the day involved whining at the tech guy, and being told that the error page I kept getting sent to was due to me using an internet browser that was not "Internet Explorer or Netscape" ...!

Netscape...!? Didn't that die out when people were still trying to avoid the Y2K catastrophe that crippled hospitals, government institutions, financial institu-oh wait. That might explain it. (The fact that the monetary investment by everyone into the Y2K bug hadn't caused such a ruckus meant that they were reluctant to let Netscape die in the horrific Firefox wake.)

But wait - paradoxically, the Netscape investment didn't include creating internet banking back then. Otherwise, I'd have been saved the embarrassment of walking up to the teller and being told in none too many words that I was an idiot. What the hell are they using my money for? *rage rage rage*

Ms C's Random Food Review: More Junk Food

What: Double Stuf "Cool Mint Creme" Oreo

Comments: It is green. Very green. Like those glowing fluorescent neon colours from ten years ago when Nabisco thought it would be a great idea to make Oreos more "totally rad." But it is double stuffed, so I thought it would be okay. I think my mum bought this on sale (when does she not buy on sale?) at Zellers when Nabisco stopped producing this particular kind of Oreo because I can't seem to find a picture of it in their catalogue.

Review: At first, I thought that "cool mint" would mean a slight reminiscence of mint ice cream. But mint ice cream doesn't remind me of eating toothpaste. Nevermind that the cream looks like toothpaste...

The positive thing about the Double Stuf Oreos is the nice touch on the cookie itself - it not only has the familiar "Oreo" relief printed on it, but a detailed "Double Stuf" ornament, reminding us that Nabisco cares about our "double" stuffed cookie sandwiches so deeply as to create a completely different cookie cutter die that proudly decorates their concern for our satisfaction.

But it still tastes like toothpaste.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 Cookies.

There and Back Again

... but with fewer magic rings and giant flaming eyeballs. More girls in it tho. ;)

I prattled around Montreal for two weeks, all of the time being sick to some degree or another. As I discovered, it was the same thing that everyone was going through recently, although in my case I didn't get medical treatment for it (except getting cough syrup, but not for that extreme).



I met up with Jin last Sunday, who was also visiting with her cousin Kevin. Really nice guy, who was patient enough to wait with us while Jin was trying on bras and jeans all afternoon. Initially, Rachel was trying to get the girls together, but Jin's talents (with her cell phone) managed to assemble nearly everyone for dim sum. It was a miraculous, spontaneous gathering that barely involved Rachel's intervention.

The interview mentioned in the previous post went alright; I suppose I was mostly confused, as I was still suffering from a bit of flu, but I hope that I brought across, most of all, the impression of a teacher having grown from the complicated and ill-prepared mess that I was, to being ready and excited to start teaching again. It looks odd from my CV how someone with my background could have spent so much time waiting for a position, but I think it has made me all the better for it. (And if I dwell on it some more, I might end up changing my mind and get depressed again so I won't talk about it any more.)

Davy and I went into the wee hours of Friday night and Saturday morning writing a song. Actually, I would like to claim I helped write the lyrics, but I feel like I mostly guided Davy's words into something that made sense (and all the sillier lines were of his own twists). If we were more serious about the song, I would probably have liked to insert a musical interlude somewhere. ;)

Still Goddamn Si-*koff koff koff*

I spent the last two nights in various states of unsteady sleep and coughing myself awake every hour. My lame treatment of doses of cold water, and attempts at just keeping my eyes open until fatigue set in, don't seem to work, but I am convinced that I will be better soon.

In a surprising twist of fortune, the contact at the EMSB told me to email her my CV "ASAP" this morning (after admitting that she had almost given up on me but then realizing that I had been sick all week), which led to a phone call a few hours later from a principal out in Montréal-Nord, which now leads to an interview tomorrow morning out there. I will probably capitalize on Ian's idea on getting a 100-pak of Fisherman's Friend and at least stumble through the interview without hacking up spittle or whatnot.



In yet another piece of (old) Islands news, my brother published an article in Chart Magazine, September 2006 (page 62). I remember my sister showing us the article earlier this year, and yesterday she had just sent me a pdf scan of the page. It's not about anything in particular (... it's called "Who I Have The Hugest Crush On") but it does have that popsicle picture and a sketch by his friend Sinbad at the bottom of the page.

Still Sick

An evening spent at the QPAT convention managed to mangle my healing(?) voice box some more, not to mention develop into coughing spasms that prompted one woman in a 5 person audience to essentially tell me to leave the room. So I decided to forgo the rest of the convention today by inadvertently sleeping in and figuring out what to do for the next few days in Montreal as I have little voice left and a cough threatening to invert my respiratory tract. I had planned to crawl to Waterloo this weekend but Jorgh told me to get better beforehand (as everyone knows that travel + sickness = :(^:( ).

It costed $25 to register for the convention, more or less returned by various samples and things at the exhibitors' booths and the keynote speaker, Stephen Lewis. (The Crayola table and the Sunkist/CHOCOLATESAMPLING table, although popular, don't quite make up $25 on their own.) On the other hand, I felt that the talks I attended weren't as informative as I had initially hoped, which contributed to dissuading me from going to more talks today. I also didn't want to get told off again for coughing up my lungs during another talk.

I was expecting to see a few teachers I recognized, which I did (including Erik), while I was quite surprised to come across my Teaching Mathematics (university course) teacher at the QAMT table. It was surprising not because I remembered his face (but once again, not the name), but that he remembered me. (Though I guess he also cheated and saw my nametag.)

The weirdest thing was arriving at the EMSB table and being told to call them today to tell them I was available to work. Weird because: 1) I could barely talk in the first place and they said they would get back to me if I couldn't call them, and 2) then receiving a call this morning asking me to interview for a substitution card(???) even though I could barely talk on the phone. I pretty much told them I'd have to postpone it until I got better.

The highlight of the evening was indeed, Stephen Lewis. His passioned speech about the work with children he did throughout the years in Africa and elsewhere, was enough to emotionally move all the teachers in the room to physically herd towards him at the end of his talk, bombard the tables selling his book and mob his lineup to sign the book. I had the displeasure of having imbibed too much water (from coughing so violently in the previous talk) and darting out to the washroom in the middle of this inspiring speech. It would have been less embarrassing if I hadn't chosen to sit in the fifth row up front, but infinitely more embarrassing if it had been right in the middle of the row.

Alas, I would have liked to attend more talks today and hang around the exhibitors' stalls, but I think I had enough for now. It's been 5 years since I started wanting to go to one of these conventions and now I have finally arrived, but I guess it has been overshadowed by the depressing lack of employment and being sick sick sick sick sick.

Montreal Blues

I was sick all of Saturday with a flu-like headache that made my head feel like it was going to explode. On Sunday, I thought I was better, although I still had lingering cold-like sniffles. It got much worse on Monday when I arrived in Montreal, because my voice started to give way to a diseased rasp. I did attend Lil V's convocation, followed by Ivo's birthday supper at Mon Nan, followed by an evening gaterhing at Davy's apartment. By then I was already slipping downhill on the voiceability of my voice box. I wanted to stay indoors for the most part of this trip, but now I think it is too late. :(

So today (and for the next few days), I am refraining from talking at all, which sucks because I spent so much time in Quebec not having anyone to talk to anyway. Ivo, Lil V and I are planning to watch the Inu Yasha movie 4 here though (although all I could manage to scrape up wasd the dub) so less talking needed. I heavily dislike being sick. :(

Above all, I blame the elementary school kids with all those germs and things (pokemon cards) they bring to school to infect everyone else. >:(

On a related note, I am sorry to have to miss my friend's (brem's wife) birthday tomorrow and having (the ability) to call and wish her such greetings.

Congratulations, Lil V!

(She knows what this means.)

Happy Birthday Ivo-kun!

Let's Beautify the City

Quebec Urbain pointed out a piece from R-C, discussing the problem of abandoned and contaminated lots in Quebec. Within the comments, there was a link to the province's database of contaminated lots, which (un)surprisingly pointed out quite a few around here, due to all the different types of light and heavy industries, auto and truck service stations, and SPA(?!). There's even one down the street, behind the dentist's office (which very well might be a reason the dentist is relocating across the street). The disconcerting part of is that there are so many lots whose owners don't bother to pay to decontaminate the lot, just so they can sell it off or do something with it.

Which is why I was quite happy when the city bought out the long-abandoned and sucky corner of Masson and Père-Lelièvre and made it into a park. This should be done for "toutes les grosses intersections on retrouve un de ces terrains!"

Cowgirl of the Conestogo

She shifted in the saddle for comfort. The horse stood still, waiting for a command. "Gee-yup!" she uttered in a commanding but soothing voice, digging her heels into the horse's sides. Unused to the new rider, the horse neighed and reared slightly before launching, and the girl excitedly braced the leather reins. She laughed and chatted happily into the horse's ear, for each time the hooves landed on the ground and the head bobbed from each step. Without warning, the horse slowed down, and the girl impatiently dug in her heels again. "Woah, girl, what's wrong?" she asked. The horse gave no reply, and it stopped completely. A strong pair of hands picked the girl off from the saddle, with a voice booming from above, "It's time to give the other kids a turn on the horsey. A quarter doesn't last very long."

Ms. C's Random Food Review: Frozen Box Lunch

What: The HUNGRY MAN EXTREME Lasagna

WHAT?: Cheese, lasagna noodle, filled with cheese, with a hearty meat sauce.

I can't believe you ate that.: Over 1 lbs of food! Over 850 calories! For comparison, my bowl of cereal this morning had about 250 cal, with milk.

Seriously, you ate it?: Yes.

Comments: It's lasagna, but an extra long portion of it. I could easily have eaten half of it and have been done, but I had nowhere to put the rest because I was at school today, so I chose to consume the rest, figuring that I would burn the excess caloric intake from chasing grade 3 students around the classroom and keeping them from beating each other up. One of the teachers said it smelled good.

Review: Actually, it is hard to ruin a frozen pasta noodle, except if it dries out (like Michelina). It actually did smell good, and the sauce was actually meaty in texture, a rarity in products that have "meat sauce" advertised on the label. The ricotta or whatever in between the noodles was chalky and pretty gross, so I squished it out of the meal.

Rating: 3/5...

What, are you kidding? THIS IS TOO MUCH FOOD. OK, 2/5.

KITTY^Infinity etc. Again

While visiting the SPA yesterday with a friend, who was rescuing some bunnies, I was beckoned over to a row of cages by a grey striped cat, mewing and extending its paws out of the cage. I think it was a female and about a year old; the only comment written on its paper was "plays rough." It let me touch its furry pads and whined as it woefully rubbed its back against the bars. About ten other cats were pathetically locked into these cages, either sleeping or mewing for attention. A black chubby one was lying on its back, meowing and staring up at me with bright yellow eyes. Attention was focused on the popular cage with four kittens playing together (then three, as one was quickly adopted by a little boy). Then my friend took out the first grey cat from the cage, petted it briefly, and set it back in the cage.

And I think that moment is the one I regret the most out of my whole life that I am yet still allergic to cats. :(

P.S. The dog room smelled terrible. :(

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The terrible highway du Vallon is now known as highway Robert-Bourassa, having been newly extended up beyond where I am, while none of its circulation problems were fixed up.

Popcorn Again and Other Blather

Not two days after my attempt at making caramel popcorn did my mum bring home a bag from Kernels. It seems an acquaintance at the mall who works there brought her the bag in exchange for sushi. And now I know why they call it Kernels - every other bite has a rock-hard pellet in it.

Ms C's Random Food Review, Part Million Twenty-Three

Today: Kernels Popcorn, Caramel

Comments: It arrived in a blue bag, proudly proclaiming it was popped freshly that day. It also arrived with the seal broken, my mum having opened it to eat some. I HOPE. The only contents are popcorn (and kernels, thank you very much Kernels) and caramel coating, so no nuts and other random metal bits to fuss about.

Review: If I hadn't burnt the caramel popcorn in the oven the other day, mine would be much tastier. (Yes, I know, I suck.) Generally speaking, the caramel of the Kernels popcorn is bland. Not much flavour other than sugartastic sweet. The popcorn was decent enough - fluffy, large, and fresh enough to last a day. The disadvantage of old popcorn without flavouring or fancy coating is that it gets gross and stale quickly. Also, anyone who has ever made their own popcorn from kernels and a stovetop or air popper will tell you that microwave popcorn and popcorn sellers are ripping you off into oblivion.

Rating: Three / 5

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I calculate that a supply teacher in this city can work about four days a month to cover the rent. '_'

Yesterday, I went to an elementary school to supply; this being my second time doing elementary, it was just as I expected from the first time, without all the fights breaking out every ten minutes. Like a hockey game! Furthermore, I have never been in a school that I have become lost in so quickly. It's like one of those dreams where you walk down a hall and up or down stairs, follow random people, and find out you're in a completely different building.

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Within a few days, Ian should be in town to visit. I had told him to come while the autumn colours were still around, but that rain-and-wind-storm from last weekend pretty much blew off all the leaves around here. Hence, he'll have to settle for drab November and all its dull glories.

Happy Hallowe'en! Part II!

As I felt the reverberations of pain from a certain blogger of not having a Hallowe'en event, I decided to make some caramel popcorn. Now, not knowing how to make caramel popcorn is never daunting to the caramel popcorn maker, as the treat itself is the golden buttery sugary crunchy tasty reward... OF THE GREATER GOOD. But let us analyse the physics and chemistry of making such caramel popcorn.

Too much sugar, not enough liquid, will make this virtually impossible to stir once the caramel from the pot hits the popcorn. The syrup will harden almost immediately after it's removed from heat, so this is why the last step is:
Bake while stirring. The caramel will melt slightly, enough for the stirring to occur while in the oven. Otherwise, the end result will be:
A big clumpy mess, which will be too hard to clean... normally. But harken, ye sugar lovers - hardened sugar will dissolve in water, and thus:
Stick the pans back in the still warm oven with water of course, and all will melt away like the last snow of spring. (Not the gross black pile that never seems to melt until July, no.)
THIS STUFF IS GOOD. Why? Perhaps it is the combination of fluffy, fresh popcorn covered in a thin, light shell of delectible sugar and butter; formed when the combination of melting and turning each popped kernel caused the white starchy puff to be completely coated in caramelty goodness. I don't need a reason. Whateva.

In the end, the result will be a tasty Hallowe'en treat that will disappear before you like the students who mysteriously disappeared when I asked them to put up their chairs yesterday.

Happy Hallowe'en!

I would never do this. Seriously.


As a bonus Hallowe'en thingy, here's a Flash Tub short Jorgh and I really like. Although I don't advise hitting "next" on that page.

Retro-Posted Post-Post... Post?

Here's a June 2006 post whose "Publish Post" button I just clicked today. I don't remember why I kept this in the draft stage and forgot it for so long, since I had written it all and clicked "Save as Draft." Moral of the story: publish whatever. Nevertheless, there's a Globe and Mail article in the post whose link still works, so read of the Demise of the Quebec City China Town.

Yeah, sorry about that. Ugh, well... The author, as far as I remember, writes about the fact that there was a Chinese community in Quebec City around the early days after the wars. They established themselves in Quebec near the old port, at the foot of the Citadel and the old city, and in the St-Roch area. They had built quite a few things there, and had been doing pretty well until the development of the giant overpass. The government made a highway that leads from upper town (directly from the National Assembly building) to Beaupré and beyond, but that meant making giant pillars and the overpass throughout the lower city; many buildings had been appropriated and thus started part of the the exodus of Chinese. Nowadays, you'll find the buildings but not the businesses nor any sign that they existed, despite the historical significance of the area. And the Wok-N-Roll. The old grandma from that restaurant passed on recently, and she was probably one of the last remaining "old ones" that would probably be able to tell first hand of these events. The last thing about the Chinese in QC is that they are still around, but not in any centralized area, so a Chinatown is not feasible to establish at this time. As far as I know, new Chinese immigrants to the city are mostly studying or working in the university, or looking to work in the restaurants.

There should be some discussion on the Quebec Urbain blog and the forum about the defunct Chinatown revival project, though I have no idea where it is.

RUN FOR THE CURE We Are Victorious I Mean Me i mean i

Update: I neglected to add some details about the chart. Basically, each point you see represents each time I trained (including the day when all I did was trot down the street for 3 minutes). I left in some times on the graph to show some sense of scale. You can tell when I extended the length of the runs, from around 1/2 km to a bit over 5 km, just before I started to plateau. You can also tell when I took vacations and forgot to bring my shoes, where the graph takes a long dip after a few empty x values.... Finally on October 1st, the date of the run, I pulled a new (but pretty mediocre) record of 31:43 for 5 km.

Those of you who sponsored me for the run, thank you so much. :) And those of you who have yet to sponsor (or choose not to due to insufficient funds or lack of interest), fundraising is always ON. Tell your friends! And I'd love to see that magic 150 reached...

Videotron and Cable Internet

I returned to Quebec City once again, after almost 2 weeks of Waterloo (non-?)adventures. Jorghnassen will be able to fill in the rest of the details, but I knew that I had to return here. For whatever reasons, I still had to return to settle some things.

One of the things I did before leaving for Hongtario was downgrade my internet service from Videotron, seeing that I would not be around for about half a month. There's three plans that home consumers would consider: the basic, the high speed, and the extreme high speed. When Big Pu signed me up for cable service eons ago, there weren't such distinctions and the limits were completely nonexistent. Once Videotron started getting more popular and people started downloading even more videos and crap like... well, you know... they created the other types of accounts. BASIC (or "Super Ultra Light") for the person who doesn't know any better; HIGH SPEED for the user who likes to do moderate browsing and downloading but still has to say "OMG WOAH HORSEY" every so often; and EXTREME (or "Pirates Ahoy!") where nothing is limited and the bandwidth should be enough for the, uh, Connoisseur of fine digital media.

Videotron rolled me over to the High Speed account, which I have kept until last month. I then decided to downgrade the account to Basic, which I knew would lower the down and up limits, from 20GB/10GB to 1GB/1GB. But I didn't know that the bandwidth would also go down from 7Mbps/820kbps to 600kbps/128kbps. Yay go cable >:( But at least it helps to not go over the limit too quickly, since everything downloads so fricking slowly!!! (*head exploding in frustration*)

Then to make matters worse, by the time I turned on this computer from 2 weeks of inactivity, there were 11 WINDOWS UPDATES, all security related. So I blew through about 1/10 of my limit in one day. (If it keeps up I'm going to have to call the guy and tell him to change my account again.)

/Internet account whining.

In other whining, I have yet to obtain a criminal record check that doesn't cost 60 bucks and two blisters only to be inadequate for the picky needs of the OCT.

Someone Got a Blog!

I'm hiding in Jorghnassen's Montreal condo right now, as his parents dropped me off here this afternoon, and they're not planning to leave the city until Tuesday. It's pretty lonely here without anyone around, especially Jorgh. :( On the plus side, Jorghnassen finally set up his blog, bleuetfjord.blogspot.com!

People keep wondering if I'm going to be in Waterloo with him, or stay in Quebec. Well, if I can secure a job for certain in Waterloo, then I'll go for sure since one doesn't drop a few (hundred? thousand?) bucks on furniture to live in a massive apartment by oneself...

KITTY KITTY KITTY KITTY KITTY

It has been a long day furniture hunting throughout the KW area, but we finally secured a mattress set, sofa set, and some more affordable furniture locations to furnish the apartment that, at the end of the day, was signed over to Jorghnassen. The super had a sweet white cat that she had taken in as a stray barely a week ago and was planning to keep, that jumped on my lap and was making all sorts of cute purring noises and nuzzling and was so adorable that it makes me almost weep from its adorableness and cuddliness. Too bad I'm allergic to cats :( and dogs :( and other various cute furry things :( and dust mite poo. >:(

Jorgh's parents were kind enough to come all the way to Waterloo to hang out here for the week, driving up to the outlet mall, driving down to southern Kitchener to the Brick, driving in circles around the area to the numerous (and pricey) furniture stores, and treating us to suppers abound. Tonight was the Raintree Cafe, where they were quite pleased that the waitress could speak en francais. It's not impossible to find people here who can speak French, but it probably felt like a godsend to Jorgh's parents who spent all this time trying to stumble around in angloland with whatever angloish they could muster.

Also, it snowed. SNOWED.

Is there snow yet where you are? 'Cuz this is just weird.

Readers' Most Anticipated Update!!!

Hello and greetings from Waterloo, to all 5 of you! Thanks to Norm and y'all for coming to the duck supper last week, and for Davy allowing us to invite ourselves to karaoke at his place afterwards. Jorghnassen and I arrived in Kitchener (Waterloo) safely without incident on Wednesday, and we were fortunate enough to have a temporary accommodation offered to us by the UWaterloo people, housed in the second level of the Health Services building on campus. [This will become a detail that will render the later part of my post quite ironic.]

We set about setting Jorgh up at the university bright and early, and also apartment hunting on Thursday. The rent around here is on average higher (or just on par) than living in NDG, although the quality of the apartment might be better here. Nonetheless, everything seems far apart because the entire city of Waterloo can be summed up as follows: bland, peppered with mini-malls.

It's not to say that there aren't any interesting details in Waterloo. There are those flocks of Canadian geese that live in and around campus. We saw a fox(!) running by as we walked north of campus, and a rabbit just around the HS building. (Oh yeah, UWat likes to use acronyms for everything here.) Chipmunks and squirrels galore eat the chestnuts and seeds that fall to the ground everywhere. Odd plants grow wild in the Research in Motion (RIM) park. And most importantly, rush hour traffic encourages pedestrians to cross the street. Whatever is considered their rush hour-I've seen more cars backed up on my driveway than that street considered as an artery.

But Thursday was unfruitful. We visited a very disgustingly overpriced 2 bedroom apartment between UWat and Wilfred Laurier University (WLU) that I very bluntly stated, "not worth 1XXX$ a month." We then walked a terrific 5 km to an apartment in Kitchener that was much better in comparison, but killed my feet with more blisters.

Friday, Jorgh called half a dozen places, and we had two apartment buildings to visit, also about 6 km apart. Lucky for me, I had a second pair of shoes, and lucky for Jorgh, he carried everything. We visited a place that was very tempting due to its proximity to a "plaza" (minimall) with a Sobeys, which just happened to stock...

Jorgh: OMG LOOOOOK WE HAVE TO GET THAT APARTMENT!
Ms. C: WHAT? WHY?!?
Jorgh: CRETONS!!!11!1!

Anyway, we visited the second building and also found it somewhat appealing due to a 1 bedroom apartment (that seemed to be rare in our apartment hunting) just recently vacated and readily available, once they cleaned it with an industrial vacuum or Swiffer napkin the size of a small planet. Nonetheless, it was a bit cheaper in the end, and seemed to be close to all sorts of different amenities - but no Sobeys across the street with cretons. It was a tough call, actually, but Jorgh decided to go with the 1 bedroom, as it was easier to furnish and I had already tired of this city...

I've yet to describe the temporary accommodations that we are occupying for another two days. It's a tastefully furnished apartment with furniture and decorations from another era, and accessories like a television and telephone from the times when people didn't care about how pointy things were shaped or how beige things could be coloured. It has a loud ventilation system, probably to keep out rodents from its ducts. Thankfully enough, it is equipped with a washer and dryer, and fridge and stove, and enough plates, utensils, cups, bowls and other kitchen things to not have to eat out every meal. All in all, tidy enough for temporary living.

The bed is another story. And probably the couch.

I developed a very sudden case of hives over the last two days or so, covering my shins, back, neck, scalp, and elbows. It looks very much like a bad allergic reaction, and from the looks of it, from the bed. Last night my throat happily obliged as well, and Jorgh and I have both stayed up in the wee hours trying not to go into massive panic attacks due to blocked airways and other happy fun events. [Recall previous post on paranoia.] We blew steam by cursing everything from the university HS building we were sitting on top of, to the poop of dust mites. I had washed all the sheets and pillow cases of the bed in hot water the day everything started itching like mad.

Today, I was advised by Jorgh's very nice doctor-parents to take (more) Benadryl, use non-perfumed Aveno lotion and wash without soap. Jorgh wanted to move into a hotel room but due to a certain beer festival in this region reputedly the biggest outside of the country of origin, it is nigh impossible to get any room now. Anyway, I'm spending as much time outside of the apartment as possible, as I found myself going nuts over lack of internet usage, something the apartment lacks. Not to mention the constant and cripping itching all over my poor wretched body that I spent so much time running into shape.

I know Jorghnassen promised he'd get a blog up and running, but I think he's still gathering his thoughts for a first post. ;)

I Ran for (Melted) You

I said I would post the overall progress and results, but since I have more recently lacked sleep and sanity, I took a 5 hour long nap after the run and it is now already the evening and I am still too tired to compile the data. The digital camera ceases to turn on, so I have no immediate photos to show you. (This is the reason I have not posted photos in a long time.)

But you can rest assured that despite the rain and the cold, and a certain Jorgh's epileptic chihuahua constitution, I completed the run and have photos of it. :)

The paper got wet, predictably, but the marker I used to fill in the bad printing quality of the letters ran like the makeup of a jilted prom queen. So the result is as you see below.



There weren't as many people as last year, as most of these missing participants may have wisely decided to hide at home with their hot cocoas and thick blankets rather than decide to stick it out to the cold and bitter end when all the participation prizes were handed out to everyone else but me. :( I got free food tho. :)

Fundraising is still ON though. Please help me raise the bar on the goal for next year!

RUN FOR THE C-uh oh...-#@$!ing PARANOIA

Now I don't want to alarm anyone by writing this, but I couldn't sleep at all last night. (Why would we be alarmed, Ms. C?, dear reader would ask, but I'd only shake my head disapprovingly and point to the subtitle of this blog.)

I had planned to go to bed at the more reasonable hour of just after midnight and I felt myself dozing off in my chair, so I schlepped myself to bed (a whole 5 feet away).

As I was laying there, I felt a panic attack... What's wrong with the lower half of my body? I suddenly bolted awake. It felt tingly, a bit like when someone sits too long in a chair, except kind of different. (No, it wasn't that time of month.) And then I tried to go to sleep, but I knew this would probably bother me all night.

Thus started the cycle of wakefulness and sleepiness... the next thing I knew, I was wide awake trying to convince myself that my heart had not stopped beating, that I had to keep breathing steadily lest I pass out, that my body was feeling numb from all the panicking. At every hour I would get up and shake myself awake, dispelling the night terrors for another minute, but sleep was not able to overtake my wide-eyed brain. Maybe brain is too much flattery for it, after all it tortured me with last night - I'll go with pile of grey goo.

At 5, my mum's alarm went off. She took about a half hour to get ready for work, and then I heard the door shut and lock.

I was barely concious of what I did the next four hours. I don't fathom why I did any of this. I remember getting changed into garish running clothes (pastel green sweatpants anyone?), turning on the TV to watch the weather channel, turning off the TV, turning on the computer, turning it off, sweeping the floor, washing a quarter load of laundry, reorganizing my stuff, turning the TV on and off again, boiling water, turning the computer on and off, checking the TV, drinking an entire litre of water, checking my email, drying the quarter-load, sticking my nose in my plants and then inevitably falling unconcious in bed, at a not-so-healthy 9:30 a.m..

I wish I could say that I got all the sleep I needed because I have a run tomorrow that happens to start at 10 a.m., but I kept getting woken up by a number of things. Somoene cleaning the balcony. Jorgh calling. Jorgh calling again. My mum arriving home at 1. My mum waking me up because Jorgh called yet again. Then I felt bad because Jorghnassen kept calling because I asked him to, so I stayed awake.

Anyway, if I don't get such astounding results tomorrow (eg. falling flat on my face, running the other way, calling a cab mid-run) then you can blame it on PARANOIA PARANOIA PARANOIA PARANOIA and some LSD OCD.

Needless to say, I didn't go running today. My mum thought I became colourblind.

RUN FOR THE CURE I labeled myself

I couldn't resist playing with Photoshop and the techy font. This will be on my back on Sunday, while the front will have the number. 

FREE E-BOOKS - Rock on!

Project Gutenberg collects books that are out of copyright and free for the public and makes these books available for download bliss. Of course, it takes a lot of effort and crazy reading to get something like this put together, so they rely on volunteers to digitize, proofread, format, and put together these thousands and thousands of books. This volunteer project is called Digitized Proofreaders.

So while I'm waiting for... uh, just waiting... well, I'm proofreading pages that have been spat out by a scanner and OCR program. Today is the 5th day since I joined, and I'm up to the 60th page. I am currently most involved in a textbook on algebra for high school, and it's probably the most annoying proofreading project there (other than the smudgefest-sideways-tables-scanned-with-a-flashlight books and the ancient-languages-with-weird-markings-and-charaters texts). I've hit upon the pages no one is eager to proofread because they're pages of nothing but fractions, and the OCR garbles every single character from these scans.

But on the plus side, I'm rank #2259, tied with only 20 people. YES!

RUN FOR THE CURE 2006 Some People Screw Up at the Bank and Elsewhere

I went to the CIBC today to drop off donations, but somehow the tellers don't know what the printed page of online donations looks like. Maybe it's the English that threw them off. They made me register *again* for some reason, but now it's out of my hands. For now.

If I reach $300 by the end of October, I'll get a puffy one-shoulder bag. Let's keep raising the funds! :)

After the bank, I went around the corner to the Running Room (Coin des Coureurs, in QC) and picked up my participant's kit. I only discovered the t-shirt they gave me was dirty on the collar, like someone had dropped cola on it. :(

Just waiting for the rain to stop... *sigh*

On the plus side, I'm runner #1448. AWWIGHT!

Help me Run-da

Go for it! :D 

RUN FOR THE CURE 2006 FUND RAISING Stuff

To tell you the truth, I'm still $105 dollars away from the goal of my selfish ass not paying the registration fee, and I have about 5 days to get it. As I have very few readers to begin with, let's lay the situation down properly, and then you can tell your friends.

1. This is 100% legit. I did this last year. I'm doing this again this year. I'm probably going to haul my butt to do it again next year. I don't need to have a friend or a friend's friend or someone in my family stricken with, or even die from, the disease to justify fund raising for breast cancer. I'd have chosen the Heart and Stroke Foundation of Canada if that were the case, but it pains me even to think about that in the first place. Maybe I'll do that next year too, then you'd probably think that I'd have a reason. But I don't need one, do I?


2. Oh jeez, an online form that wants a credit card number. You know what? You don't have to use the form. You can email me for details. I'll even post my email address for spamrificness: chowmaylay[AT!!!]yahoo.com ... One person gave me a cheque. (THANK YOU, PERSON!) All I needed was a name, address, and email. That's if a tax receipt is wanted. You get one if you ask. Otherwise, you can just tell me your name is Mr. Incog Nito and I won't even bat an eye.


3. If you have ever made yourself a promise that you believe in, when throughout your whole life you have never believed so concretely, for your own sake or the sake of a friend or someone you have never met, then you know how I see this run and how much it means to me. Damn the psychological barrier of registration.

So all I need is perhaps 2 very nice people to donate ~$50, or 5 equally as nice people to pitch in $20 or so, or 10 (uh, 11) amazing people to abandon their coffee doughnut habit for a few days and scrounge up $5.

Please, please, please... if nothing else I ask for this year (I don't think I ask much, do I?), I ask only that you invite your friends or anyone you know to pitch in and sponsor me. /begging

Birthday Mommy

Yesterday, I woke up bright and early at noon, walked to the grocery store (which seems infinitely farther than when I'm jogging by there), and bought stuff for a cheesecake. Then I got caught in the rain on the way back, while my neighbours who happened to be walking down the same way spotted me attempting to jog home. I ran into the pharmacy and bought a box of white almond bark and a lotto ticket. Then I got home and made the cheesecake (which, by the way, can gain interesting texture with a layer of almond slivers on top before baking):

TEH RSUMIST CITRUS CHEESECAKE

2 packages of softened cream cheese (I suppose even the store-brand one)
3/4 cup sugar
2 eggs
1-2 tbsp each lemon and orange juice (fresh squeezed or whatever)
1 cup graham cracker crumbs
1-2 tbsp melted butter... make that 1. No, 2. Well, you'll see.

OPTIONAL:
almond slivers
orange and lemon zest

1. Set oven at 350 F. Use an 8" springform pan, or regular cake pan, or a pie plate. Whatever's clean. And ovenproof.


2. Mix together the crumbs and the butter, and line the bottom of your pan with it. We used to use a pie plate because my mum and sister didn't think of using other things in the house. Then I discovered one day at a restaurant that cheesecakes don't have to look like pies...? Yeah we're really messed up.


3. Using a mixer, beat the devil out of the eggs (lol), and add sugar. Then add the cream cheese. The mixture might be lumpy at first (especially the store-brand one), so you have to keep beating until everything is smooth, otherwise something disastrous will happen!!!1!


4. Add in lemon and orange juice. If I had cleaner fruit and a zester I would have added lemon and orange zest. And if I had found limes yesterday I would have added one too. But I couldn't find squat at the store. >:(


5. Pour batter into crumb-lined pan. Layer optional things on top, like almond slivers. Man, those things are tasty.


6. Bake for about 45 minutes, or until the center is no longer gooey.


7. Let the cheesecake cool otherwise you might get an upset tummy. :(


8. Feed to mommy. :)

Put in more sugar if you like a sweeter cheesecake, considering there's not much sugar for the lemon and orange juice in the batter. My mum actually doesn't like sweet stuff (despite her chocolate cravings) so she said this was just right. :)

Then we won the 6/49 :D:D:D:( No we didn't. Now I have to go wash the floor by hand. :(

Idea?

Hahahahahahaha I'd never do this. 


I'm having way too much fun with the paths function.

P.S. Jorgh hates orange shirts. :(

Hommage?

Bob Ross I ain't. [OMG TOO PINK] 


And at last, all our dreams have come true.

Ugh I knew I did something wrong. Here's the fixed picture. 

Here's a silly vectorized pic of my sketch. Cheer up! 

Fears

When I have nothing else to write about, I usually point out how disgustingly and mopingly unemployed I am. Some people would go absolutely nuts if they have no direct and regular source of income, or not have any sort of plan in mind to do so. And some of you are workaholics who can't sit still.

I know you; you're the ones that I envy, who seem to be able to handle and conquer all things. Invulnerable, courageous and unashamed. Your self imposed weaknesses are but trifles in other people's point of view, and your strengths are infinite.

This is me. I have absolutely zero problem talking to someone face to face to ask for something, but when it's over the phone... forget it.

A second level of fear above that is asking someone for something that benefits me personally. I'd rather do anything else than ask for a favor. I'm certain it's not because I don't want to owe someone, because if anyone asks me for anything I don't hesitate (unless it's ridiculous).

And the most debilitating one of all: I fear rejection or failure from lack of sufficient skill. I'm the type who absolutely finds everything fascinating... to a point. Yes, even sports. But I don't feel like anything near an expert at any sort of thing. (And you're going to say, "But nobody's an expert at everything." And then I'm going to say, "But I'd like to be an expert at just one thing." Then you can counter with, "You have an inferiority complex." And then I'll say, "Oh you're right.)

OK, enough blah. Here's a sketch.

Holy carp holy carp holy carper

Dawson College shooting:
I sit at home pretty much all day (except the 1 hour a day I get up and go, as per yesterday's post and I don't have much else to do except look for a job and read the news. Except I didn't read it until 3 pm, after I turned on the TV and there were images of cops running around Montreal downtown and people being loaded up on stretchers.

Donnah lives next to College Lasalle, which is right in the neighborhood. I called her a little while ago and she said she was fine. She was taking the 24 bus from Westmount to home, and first spotted a bunch of students running in the opposite direction. (She thought someone might have bombed one of the jewish temples or schools again.) Then the bus divered its route, but was stalled on the road. The police cordonned the whole area, and there was apparently a dead body on the road. @_@ ... Later, she got off the bus still far from home, but the police denied access to everyone for the whole block. So she got home by taking a (rather long) detour by way of orange line to Sherbrooke and back home by 24 bus in the opposite direction.

Then we chatted about finding jobs again. Life must go on, eh?

I'm freaking out because it happened downtown and everyone I know in Montreal has at some point needed to go downtown to do something, so any one of us could have been a bystander or witness. Also, I'm angry because, and I quote what I told Felix: "kids are still kids and they're stupid!" >:@ (By kids, I am referring to the shooters.)

Montreal residents, please report your status!

RUN FOR THE CURE 2006 Motivation

It matters not why I run for this 5 km charity run. For charity, perhaps?

This post is more about how to motivate oneself to run. People are reported to do physical exercise when they are depressed or idle. But how do you gather enough strength to get up and go?

1. Pick a moment when you're sure nothing is going to happen. Give yourself an hour or so.


2. Drink some water. You're going to need it.


3. Put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Put on some sport socks. Put on your shoes. Now you have no excuse.


4. Run a bit. Then walk a bit. Then run a bit more. Then heave a couple of breaths and walk a bit. Then run a bit more. But don't turn around.


5. Once you're through for the day, note where you have arrived. Then go home and have a good long drink. OF WATER.


6. Tomorrow, you're going to run to that point.

Here are some downsides to running outside, before you tell me that you experienced such-and-such and never want to do it again:

• Embarrassing moments of tripping on garbage, rocks, sidewalks, your own feet: Check.


• More athletic people passing you: Check.


• Less athletic people passing you: Check.


• Rather ignorant kids taunting you: Check.


• Rather ignorant and stupid kids calling out racial epithets: Check. :(


• Little doggies running at you barking: Check. Hell, I almost kicked it today.

But here are the upsides:

• People walking on the street encouraging you: Check. :):):):):)


• Turning a not-so-pasty white colour: Check.


• Kids actually saying hi for some reason: Check. ?_?


• Noticing your new shoes are dirtier and wearing down: CHECCCCKKK. @_@


• Self-motivated goals more easily achieved: Check.

The last one is because if you are on a treadmill, you can always tell yourself you're through and quit the machine, sit down, and swig some Vector water or Ethos water, or whatever the hell it's called.¹ When you're outside, you don't really have that option, so you mentally have to push yourself to further lengths. Because 5 km is a kind of a long walk home anyway.

¹I condone the buying and selling of water only when it's necessary. For instance, when you're out in the middle of nowhere and dehydration sets in. On the other hand, it makes as much sense to privatize clean water as it does to privatize clean air. Why must we turn to such alternatives? LOLz Anyway, keep hydrated.

T-0 Yay!

I'm having a happy birthday, thank you. :)

On the other hand, I ended up with quite a few blisters (and one that turned very purple, due to someone stepping on one by accident. No biggie, tho, eh?) from walking a lot in unbroken shoes a few days ago. So my activities lately have been mainly walking around the plateau area. Fortunately, blisters can be solved with Davy's solution.

This evening, Jorgh took me to the nice restaurant, L'Express, where he ate too much and I ate tons of blueberries and too much. The up side is that the food is good and the prices are not too bad for a French restaurant (as long as you don't go overboard). The down side is that the place setting seems to have been inspired too much by the cheapo eats; but paper napkins and paper table cover seems to pale in comparison to the unsharp dollar store steak knife...! Anyway, good food.

P.S. Jorgh says tartar is not something you want to eat regularly. Or semi-regularly.

P.P.S. RUN, FORREST, RUN! That's all I ask for all year from anyone, so I'll ask again in a week or so.

T-3

As it stands right now, I'm going to Montreal today to get out of this rut. But not without a long set of scathing words from my mum. Grrr! *shakes fist*

---

I can't begin to say how sorry I am for one of my heroes Steve Irwin's unfortunate demise. It seems like a miracle that he lasted this long among the poisonous, the fang and claw equipped, the swift, the noxious, the gigantic, the violent, and the rest; it led us to believe that he was invincible. To end this on a well worn racetrack of cliché, he died the way he lived. Impossibly brave!

T-5

As it stands right now, it seems that I will be spending yet another birthday alone, or at least pathetically reminiscing.

Oh, and it seems my bike is still kaput. Figures.

Sakura: Where are the fireworks?
Naruto: O-Oh those f-fireworks are nowhere n-near as pretty as-
Shikamaru: What the hell are you talking about?
Naruto: It was in the song, dagnabit-tebayo!
Kakashi: Aaaayyyyeeeeeee!
Everyone else: STFU! 


[Edit: I fixed a few things but there's still the fireworks to do...]

Pet Spider

A spider made a web on the blinds in my room. I'm going to leave it there at least until tomorrow, to see if it catches those annoying flies that happen to stay stuck in the vortex a.k.a. my room.

UPDATE: My mum found it horrific and got rid of it pretty much right away, so now I still have little flies hanging around. :(

Kakashi: Aaaayyyyyyeeee!
Shikamaru: How much longer do I have to stand here?
Kakashi: Until this picture is completed! Yeah!
Shikamaru: [sighs] How troublesome. *TOK* 

Oh, I know exactly how he feels.

And I think this cover letter is absolutely on-the-spot great. :p

This is what happened when I gave up on that other one. 

You do not want to know how long this took. 

I ended up not really liking my sketch, so I traced the image in Photoshop (vectors). So far I have Naruto doing this weird handwavy thing. 

A second version of the very rough draft. I added some patterns to the yukatas to give a better idea of the interest in the picture, but it's still pretty bad. Kakashi still looks awful. ... And those eyes.... they're burning holes in my head...! 

A very rough draft of a picture I wanted to draw, inspired by the Naruto Ondo song. There's not much going on in there, except maybe with Kakashi in the background looking like he's taking a dump on a stage or something. Naruto and Sakura aren't actually pushing each other away, but supposed to be posing like airplanes. And Shikamaru is looking down on his gown yukata thinking, "What the hell is this retarded getup I'm wearing that looks like chicken scratches?" ... Yeah, like I said, it's a very rough draft. 

O, T.O.

Gone for a while, eh? I'm still hiding from the real world in Toronto, at Eddie and Rebecca's place. I attended a wedding (second cousin's, if a godfamily even counts in the first place) and spent some time being driven crazy by my sister, mother, and brother all at the same time.

Also, I had spent a day with Davy and Stefan up in Chicoutimi before leaving for Toronto, but I won't talk about that much for the moment because I feel all of the following:

1. Bloated from the 9 day long EATASTICFEST called "meeting with family and gorging ourselves."


2. Bloated, having forgotten my running shoes at Jorgh's, and my mother forgetting to bring my running clothes after I told her to bring them.


3. Sleepy because it's fricking 2 a.m. after running around the EX all day and eating.


4. Irritated because I can't sleep.


5. I think my eye is infected because it's been very hard to not gouge it out from pain.

I'll be back in the province (at least) tomorrow, if weather, road conditions, car condition, driver condition, and hair condition permits. Meanwhile, VOTE FOR ME! VOTE pledge for me.

CIBC Run for the Cure

It's finally time! after all that ranting I made below about how much I hate my pedometer, I have sent out the spammails. If you haven't received one, count yourself lucky because the stupid form on the CIBC page is f@$%ed up. Here it is below:

---

I am participating in the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure, on Sunday, October 1st and I am asking for your support for a cause that is very important to me.

This year, an estimated 22,300 Canadian women and 160 men will be diagnosed with breast cancer. We know research is making a difference. Lives are being saved through earlier detection, and more effective treatments are improving the quality of life for those who receive this devastating diagnosis.

I am one of 170,000 participants who will all be walking or running on Sunday, October 1st and I need your support. Donating online is quick, easy and secure! You can pay by credit card and within 30 minutes, you will receive a tax receipt for any donation that has been successfully received. Your donation will be added to the critical funds raised by the Run, and will be directed towards research, education and awareness programs.

I know that you people don't like spam. Especially when you are cash-strapped and see that this email looks like a phishing thing and someone is asking for money. And on top of that, you probably haven't heard from me forever. Or ever. But I'm saying this is 100 percent legit, and I am 1000 percent committed to this run. (Typo? You decide.)

And if you don't feel comfortable donating online, well, you're always free to see me in person and I'll hook you up with a tax receipt, etc. (though it's not instantaneous). Though it will entail travelling, but there's still time. ;)

Thank you. I appreciate your support!

- Eugenie, a.k.a. Ms. C

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Don't forget to click on the link to check my progress. Or any of the links anywhere.

Irrational Anger

AARRGGGHHH SOMEONE IS GOING TO F#@$ING PAY FOR THIS!!!!



When I started running like a mofo, I was using the fancy Made in China Pedometer/Chronometer/Assometer to check mainly how long I was jogging for. I was a bit skeptical of the step counter because I noticed it would skip steps for absolutely no reason. I was even more unsure of the calorie counting thing so I ignored it completely (but apparently running for half an hour barely equates a can of soda so now I've mostly given up on junk food).

Anyway, it multiplies the stride (I inputted 75 cm because I can't tell) by the number of steps it miscounts (according to the stupid thing, about 5900) and it spews out the distance. In fact, according to the above diagram from RunningAHEAD.com, I had been vastly underestimating how far I had been running.

So, at most one of the following statements is true:

1. I have been running about 4.4 km for the last few days.


2. I have been running about 4.8 km for the last few days, given 10% error.


3. I have been running about 5.0 km for the last few days, given a ruler, a calculator, Google Maps, and a curvy monitor.


4. I have been running 5.23 km according to Google Maps and this tool.


5. Or the most popular: I have not been running any of these distances because EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN GADGETTYTHING IS SHITTING ME.

VENGEANCE

Mini Rest

I took a few days away from blogging because I realized I had nothing constructive to say, and stories don't come so easily.

Anyway, Davy and Stefan (?) are going to come to Quebec City tomorrow, and we're taking a day trip to Chicoutimi to pick blueberries. I should also prepare for the next wedding in Toronto, next Saturday the 19th, thus once again I will be heading south for a while.

Lil V is back from China and she's got stories to tell. Right? :D

I'm sorry I missed brem's birthday. I hope you had a good one!

Jorghnassen's likely to head to UWaterloo in the fall, once he's finished his Ph.D. thesis, and I think it's also likely that I will be going with him when time comes. (You know. Guys.) It's not so likely that I will have a job myself when I get there, so I'm still kind of holding out on whatever will keep me around here.

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Now I know my mum is certifiably insane and probably has Alzheimer's, not to make light of those who have acute cases of this disease. Some years ago while I was in Montreal, she brought me a pair of shorts that are pink, red, and white checked, too small for me at the time, and absolutely hideous. She claimed that they were cheap from Simons (probably knowing her, "2 bucks!"), thus I should wear them. I was fortunately too tubby to fit into them so I hid them away (except for one day where I had a lapse of judgement and there are photographs to support this... Lil V would know).

Today, my mum washed all my wearable shorts, and thus I am stuck with... the hideous shorts that I would only consider wearing if all my other summer clothes were in the wash and I wasn't going anywhere. (Maybe I should have put on my suit.)

She looked at them and said, "What the hell are those?"
"You bought them."
"No way! YOU must have bought them because they were on sale!"
"Nooooooo way in hell would I have bought these on sale."
"Yes, you said they were '5 dollars!'"
"Goddammit! I would have never bought anything this ugly!!!"
"See? They're ugly."

This is me.

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Salon has a literary guide on Montreal. Personally, I don't feel as I know Montreal as well as some of you out there, because I've lived outside of Montreal about 80% of my life. Alas, as one of the comments put it, "Quebec is more than Montreal." And Montreal's not quite Quebec.

The Body is Willing

I've spent a lot of time in the last few years sitting. Sitting. That's not even for a job. Just sitting. And probably a few hours jogging. Then sitting.

There are three things going on in my head. Firstly, I don't really understand how other people are able to secure jobs (in the plural). I don't understand because secondly, I can't see myself knocking on employters' doors or ringing them up and demanding attention because I feel so woefully inadequate for every single job posting that exists. Thirdly, I feel like I haven't learned anything and have regressed to a period when I was similarly being berated in high school for not being ambitious and money-grubbing like "all my peers."

God, I need to get out of this city. *weeps*

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My mum's sushi boss apparently had this happen to her yesterday. She was sleeping and woke up to part of a wall hanging over her head.

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Ursj. og upi fpm'y drr ,r [pdy gpt s vpi[;r pg fsud oy'd nrvsidr O', ypp fr[trddrf yp/

Sunburn... Slowly...

One disadvantage of running too late in the day is getting too tanned. I didn't realize how red I was getting until yesterday, when I came back inside and took a shower. I get flushed naturally when I drink (a modicum amount) or exercise, so I have to wait a while until I noticed the tan line was not just a different colour, but red. Also, it seems that I was just to the point that things would have started to peel... and that's all fun and games.

So I'm trying to go for two different goals here: not to burn by interspersing days in between running (but trying to wake up early enough to avoid high UV times), and to get to 5 km eventually because it's been 3 months and I still haven't gotten there yet. :(

But there's a way to have you encourage me, and that's to donate to the cause. More on that soon.

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I noticed the It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! essay contest, but I don't have a 500 word story to submit. On the other hand, I do have a 154 word story for you, so that should suffice. I don't like remembering things that happened in elementary school.

Worst Hallowe'en Ever

When I was in second grade, my mother - who is inept at making artistic things - attempted to help me create my bee costume. It consisted of a yellow tee-shirt with black stripes sewn on, a pair of black jogging pants, coat hanger and pantyhose wings, and a pair of pipe cleaner antennae. I was pretty proud of our creation, until I wore it to school that day. Another girl in the class was also dressed as a bee, but her mother was a costume designer! Her perfectly sewn yellow-and-black striped torso was also stuffed, which gave her petite figure an adorable puffiness, stinger included. Her headgear was spring-mounted, a cute detail indeed. And her wings were sewn into shiny patterns, not unlike a real bee. Everyone thought she was adorable. She received the school prize for best costume.

And it didn't help that it was too cold to go trick-or-treating that year.

Nostalgic

It had been ages since the duo had seen each other, but the reunion was bittersweet. Singer and pianist separated to pursue their own careers ten years prior to the meeting, separating over personal and professional differences. Now, the nostalgic public demanded the comeback, and their popularity had been falling in later years. It was enough for them to receive the attention about the reunion that they were met with cameras and magazine reporters at their "airport reconciliation meeting." Their rehearsals were congenial but reserved, as they each noticed the effects of aging and maturing on each others' faces. Finally, the day came when they held a private interview with the biggest entertainment news program. Their smiles and uneasy laughter were broadcasted to the world, but it was unconvincing enough to generate a buzz about their incompatibility. Their comeback concert was poorly attended - rounded out with hardcore fans - and their tour was gratefully cut back. Finally, the day they called it quits, none of the media was paying attention to them anymore, and they sat together in the studio.

"What's that song we first sang together?" the singer asked.
"That was way back when the funk was big, but we were still stuck in those old folk songs," the pianist mused. "Oh I know, it's that one about the couple in love."
"Ah yeah. That's right. They had to part because of war or something."
The singer started humming a few measures, and the pianist found the right key. Soon, they started singing, and they didn't stop until the song was over. They took one look at each other, and laughed as they hadn't in twenty years.

Body

He spent his entire life with his bodybuilding obsession: full-time training at the gym, lifting weights, and constantly exercising. He talked, ate, and breathed the sport - so much that he had alienated all the non-bodybuilding people around him. However, he made a decent living with competitions and commercial promotions. At the age when most people thought of moving out of their empty nests, he was outpacing all his peers with limbs as thick as tree trunks.

Then disaster struck: due to a serious accident, he was hospitalized for the first time in his life. It was also the first time he had spent weeks unable to move freely, which broke his psyche. The hospital staff bore the brunt of his raving and inconsiderate behaviour. Each patient that was moved into his room quickly asked to be transferred to another. Finally, one patient seemed to tolerate the ramblings of the bodybuilder, and seemed to be blissfully listening.

The bodybuilder didn't understand why the other man was looking intently at him while he complained about how his body was broken, wasting away, and how frustrated he was becoming by the day. He also didn't know why the man never spoke back, nor even turned away. His talking never seemed to faze the man, which caused him to get angrier and then more subdued but annoyed. "It's like talking to a dummy!" he barked. "If you're going to look at me, at least react to something!"

A woman stepped into the room, and she stood by the man's bedside. The man gestured to the bodybuilder, who was now curiously silent, and started signing with his hands. The woman turned to face him and smiled. "He says he wants to thank you."

"What? Why? If I had known he were deaf I wouldn't have spoken to him."

The woman shook her head. The man signed some more. "He's just had an operation to gain his hearing for the first time, and you're the first person to have spoken to him like a real human being."

Nothing Ever Happens

The forest had all but been cut clean, save a solitary spruce tree that was saved because of its attractive shape and unusually large girth and height. The new owner of the lot had decided it could provide the land with some character, and it could also nicely raise the property value of the house to be built. The tree had stood for at least a hundred years, surviving season after season of intense snow storms and scorching summer mayhem. The tree's seeds made up part of the forest around it. The squirrels and chipmunks were often found under its boughs, and birds welcomed the cones especially in the winter. It was not unusual to see a moose hiding under it during vicious storms. But now a construction worker stood under it, hiding in the shade from the sweltering summer sun, smoking on his lunch break. The stub that had not been properly put out started the fire. Nobody noticed the tree, dry from the heat, robed in flames, until it was too late. The fire department put out the flaming stump, and all that was left was a dark frame of a tree. A few hours later, while nobody was looking, charred cones released their seeds.

Es-see-pa-die-nah***

I remember going to Toronto during the 2003 gigantic SARS scare. SARS was a terrible blow to all the Chinese communities - financially, socially, and probably even weakened family ties ... (that's another story). Due to the western world's irrational fears of contagious disease being transmitted through foreign-looking people regardless of nationality, and then people actually dying in Toronto of SARS, everyone avoided downtown Chinatown. And every Chinatown in the country.

So for the first time, ever, there were parking spaces on Spadina avenue. Every single restaurant had opened all their doors wide and advertised inexcusably cheap lunches, hoping for some customers to fill their unusually empty tables. Eddie wasn't concerned about SARS, and neither was I, so we went to a place for lunch (which was also deserted). We had only ordered one dish to share between us, as most Chinese restaurants make oversize portions with this intent. (It surprises me sometimes how Jorgh's family doesn't really understand this concept... but I guess it's a cultural thing.)

The waiter brought a massive bowl of tasty soup (one of those that you usually split between 6 to 8 people). "Included." Well...

After failing to consume enough soup to fill one of the great lakes, the waiter brought our oversized plate of "General Chow's" chicken and rice piled to the ceiling. Ok, I'm exaggerating - it was only halfway up to the ceiling. Even with Eddie's above average appetite and me being starved on the train for 4 hours without breakfast, we barely finished half of the meal. I thought it was a hugely overcompensating meal until the bill came... for 5 dollars. Now that was just ridiculous.

*** Say it like a middle aged chinese woman having been born over there but lived here for thirty-odd years yet never really got rid of the accent. Yeah, like that.