I've just come back from my Tuesday night cooking classes which I take with my friend Trish. She used to live on Vajid's floor back at Queen's.
While cleaning up, Trish and I noticed that Teacher-lady (I forget her name. She's a teacher though.) and Bald-guy (He may just shave his head. It's hard to tell. He doesn't look like he'd look very good with hair anyways.) were having quite a nice chat while doing the dishes. Later, we saw him walking her to her car.
"We met at a cooking class," they could later tell their kids.
It also came about that one of my classmates, who's a lawyer (We call him Pizza-dough man. He loved the pizza dough to an unhealthy degree.) used to be in a class at McMaster taught by another classmate, who is a retired professor of political science.
It's neat how our lives have intersected. Those yet to join the rat race, those already finished, those looking for love, all of us united by a Hollandaise sauce!
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Happy New Year!
A little bit belated. Good times with family. More hot pot than I can handle.
I went out clubbing with the sisters on Friday night. Family fun!
Props to Karen for landing a job! Those math degrees ARE useful after all.
If any you want to see my sister in Daffydil, let me know. I think the Chan Clan hits it on Feb 25th.
peace!
I went out clubbing with the sisters on Friday night. Family fun!
Props to Karen for landing a job! Those math degrees ARE useful after all.
If any you want to see my sister in Daffydil, let me know. I think the Chan Clan hits it on Feb 25th.
peace!
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Hockey Night in Canada
I put my newly acquired equipment to the test last night. Every Wednesday, the medical students rent out a rink. Yesterday was my very first foray into the world of full equipment arena hockey.
It is very, very, very fast.
And I can't do things like shoot the puck. Or even pass it really.
I'm just skating around where ever I feel like.
The other guys (and one girl!) are very encouraging though. I got lots of advice on how to put on my equipment (a complicated affair), and many encouraging words on the bench.
My friend Dave lent me his St. Louis Blues jersey. I've decided that teams named after musical genres are way cool. Like the Utah Jazz. If I had a sports team, I'd name them the Showtunes.
Or maybe not.
It is very, very, very fast.
And I can't do things like shoot the puck. Or even pass it really.
I'm just skating around where ever I feel like.
The other guys (and one girl!) are very encouraging though. I got lots of advice on how to put on my equipment (a complicated affair), and many encouraging words on the bench.
My friend Dave lent me his St. Louis Blues jersey. I've decided that teams named after musical genres are way cool. Like the Utah Jazz. If I had a sports team, I'd name them the Showtunes.
Or maybe not.
Monday, January 23, 2006
The Secret of Productivity
Now despite all appearances, the main purpose of this year is supposed to be for me to learn how to do research. I realize what with all the talk of hockey, and soccer, and lessons for this that and the other, that this fact may have slipped under the radar.
Happily enough, I've been working away at the research bit in quite a respectable fashion.
Who knew I'd have that sort of self control?
I think the secret is that I've completely and utterly exhausted all other sources of amusement. The doctor I'm working with was away for two weeks at the beginning of the year. During that time, I quite literally had nothing to do, so I read a LOT, I watched all the tv episodes on my computer multiple times, and I played Freecell till my eyes got blurry (I am a Freecell Grandmaster).
The point is that I've officially managed to make myself so bored with my usual 'diversion' activities, that I'd rather work on my research project instead.
It's like I've goofed off so much, that I somehow ended up hard-working.
I will have to modify my modus operandi to take advantage of this phenomenon.
Happily enough, I've been working away at the research bit in quite a respectable fashion.
Who knew I'd have that sort of self control?
I think the secret is that I've completely and utterly exhausted all other sources of amusement. The doctor I'm working with was away for two weeks at the beginning of the year. During that time, I quite literally had nothing to do, so I read a LOT, I watched all the tv episodes on my computer multiple times, and I played Freecell till my eyes got blurry (I am a Freecell Grandmaster).
The point is that I've officially managed to make myself so bored with my usual 'diversion' activities, that I'd rather work on my research project instead.
It's like I've goofed off so much, that I somehow ended up hard-working.
I will have to modify my modus operandi to take advantage of this phenomenon.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Sunday morning
I just got back from the first indoor soccer game of the season.
We won! The other team didn't show up. Ah well.
I went to Body Worlds with my family yesterday. There was twenty-four of us. It's fun to do things with such a big crowd.
The big draw of the show are these bodies that are plasticized, and then dissected in peculiar ways.
My thoughts:
1. There are sooooooooo many of them! Everyone spent a lot of time examining the first 'exhibit'. And lots of time examining the second. But I swear, they just kept on coming and coming. I think whoever is in charge of the thing is continually adding to it. The novelty wears off I'm afraid.
2. It feels very.. invasive. You never really think about the things clothing allows you to hide, never mind your skin. I don't mind a bit of snooping, but I think I'm more the diary-reader type.
3. The highlight of the show was definitely the camel. I wish they did more animals. Also, they didn't dissect the camel's hump. I'm very curious to see what's in those things.
We won! The other team didn't show up. Ah well.
I went to Body Worlds with my family yesterday. There was twenty-four of us. It's fun to do things with such a big crowd.
The big draw of the show are these bodies that are plasticized, and then dissected in peculiar ways.
My thoughts:
1. There are sooooooooo many of them! Everyone spent a lot of time examining the first 'exhibit'. And lots of time examining the second. But I swear, they just kept on coming and coming. I think whoever is in charge of the thing is continually adding to it. The novelty wears off I'm afraid.
2. It feels very.. invasive. You never really think about the things clothing allows you to hide, never mind your skin. I don't mind a bit of snooping, but I think I'm more the diary-reader type.
3. The highlight of the show was definitely the camel. I wish they did more animals. Also, they didn't dissect the camel's hump. I'm very curious to see what's in those things.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Friday, January 20, 2006
Picket Fences
I borrowed a book from the library about house design.
Things I would like in a house:
1. A urinal. They save water.
2. A room with a mirrored wall.
3. An open concept kitchen.
4. A view of the ocean.
5. A piano. Preferably on an elevated riser sort of thing.
6. Speakers everywhere.
7. A quiet road. For road hockey.
8. A round library.
9. An observatory at the top of a tower.
10. A lengthened bed. Eight feet long maybe? I hate when my feet slip off my bed.
That's the list for an ideal house. The list for an ideal home is different.
Things I would like in a house:
1. A urinal. They save water.
2. A room with a mirrored wall.
3. An open concept kitchen.
4. A view of the ocean.
5. A piano. Preferably on an elevated riser sort of thing.
6. Speakers everywhere.
7. A quiet road. For road hockey.
8. A round library.
9. An observatory at the top of a tower.
10. A lengthened bed. Eight feet long maybe? I hate when my feet slip off my bed.
That's the list for an ideal house. The list for an ideal home is different.
Monday, January 16, 2006
I am personal friends with a Blue Man.
This past Friday, Greg and I went to watch the Blue Man Group. Props to my sister for picking up tickets for us.
Anyways, right before the show starts, one of the usher ladies asks me how tall I am.
" 6'1'', " I say. (I'm a shade shorter. At least according to all the tapes measures on the pediatrics ward.)
" You're too tall," she says, and turns to Greg.
" 5'11'', " says Greg.
" How would you like to be in the show? " The lady asks him.
Greg doesn't look overly enthused, but spurred on by my encouragement, he agrees to participate.
Now at this point, as excited as I am for Greg, I must admit I was feeling a litle bit jealous. Before the show, they had been handing out long strips of paper and asking us to make clothing out of it to "Encourage the Blue Men". Most people had made headbands. Greg thought it was silly and had done nothing. I had made a helmet and a safety vest. Certainly, cosmic justice would result in ME being in the show?
Anyways, I won't talk too much about the show because I don't want to spoil it for those who've yet to see it. It was a messy, boisterous affair. Quite entertaining.
As for Greg's part. If you have seen the show, he was chosen as the guy who had to put on the white coveralls and black motorcycle helmet.
If you haven't seen the show, Greg was rushed on stage, summarily abused by Blue Men, and then dismissed.
I laughed like a child.
And I was no longer so envious.
Anyways, right before the show starts, one of the usher ladies asks me how tall I am.
" 6'1'', " I say. (I'm a shade shorter. At least according to all the tapes measures on the pediatrics ward.)
" You're too tall," she says, and turns to Greg.
" 5'11'', " says Greg.
" How would you like to be in the show? " The lady asks him.
Greg doesn't look overly enthused, but spurred on by my encouragement, he agrees to participate.
Now at this point, as excited as I am for Greg, I must admit I was feeling a litle bit jealous. Before the show, they had been handing out long strips of paper and asking us to make clothing out of it to "Encourage the Blue Men". Most people had made headbands. Greg thought it was silly and had done nothing. I had made a helmet and a safety vest. Certainly, cosmic justice would result in ME being in the show?
Anyways, I won't talk too much about the show because I don't want to spoil it for those who've yet to see it. It was a messy, boisterous affair. Quite entertaining.
As for Greg's part. If you have seen the show, he was chosen as the guy who had to put on the white coveralls and black motorcycle helmet.
If you haven't seen the show, Greg was rushed on stage, summarily abused by Blue Men, and then dismissed.
I laughed like a child.
And I was no longer so envious.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Wires cross
I am absolutely fascinated by blogs.
It's a chance to see the world through someone else's eyes. A new perspective. Different life experiences. Unique points of view.
Why wonder what it's like to be a middle-aged man in Singapore, when you can actually find out?
I suppose the biggest appeal of blogs isn't so much the information that is shared, but rather the manner in which this information is conveyed. In reading my friend's blog, I can't imagine anyone but her writing it. Her personality sticks to her blog like the proverbial fat kid on a smartie. It's in the images, the turns of phrase, the punctuation, the word choice.
But I realize something else in reading the blogs of those I know. You could not possibly understand the person by reading the blog alone.
This is important to bear in mind when reading the blogs of strangers. It can be neat to think that you 'get' this other person and their completely foreign set of problems and concerns. But you don't. You can't. In this context, the blogger controls the medium AND the message. Let the reader beware.
It's a chance to see the world through someone else's eyes. A new perspective. Different life experiences. Unique points of view.
Why wonder what it's like to be a middle-aged man in Singapore, when you can actually find out?
I suppose the biggest appeal of blogs isn't so much the information that is shared, but rather the manner in which this information is conveyed. In reading my friend's blog, I can't imagine anyone but her writing it. Her personality sticks to her blog like the proverbial fat kid on a smartie. It's in the images, the turns of phrase, the punctuation, the word choice.
But I realize something else in reading the blogs of those I know. You could not possibly understand the person by reading the blog alone.
This is important to bear in mind when reading the blogs of strangers. It can be neat to think that you 'get' this other person and their completely foreign set of problems and concerns. But you don't. You can't. In this context, the blogger controls the medium AND the message. Let the reader beware.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lectures. at Mac. Finally!
I was describing to my friend Karen the complete and utter freedom that I've been enjoying since my enrichment year began in January. She suggested I take advantage of this opportunity and attend some of those lectures that universities like to hold to broaden the horizons of its students and scholars.
On Monday, I attended a lecture by Hooker Distinguished Visiting Professor Evelyn Nakano Glenn. She gave a lecture called "Yearning for Lightness". It was about how light skin has become a sign of increased social status both between racial groups AND within racial groups. She said this is for three reasons:
1. Colonialism - Here she gave the example of how Ghandi apparently tried to wash his skin lighter when he was a child so he could look more like the British colonists.
2. Global Capital - I think here she is talking about the global distribution of wealth, and the dissemination of the Western standard of beauty by the Western media.
3. Indigenous Standards - It is possible that many cultures thought pale skin was beautiful even before colonialism or global capitalism.
Apparently, the market for skin lightening products is a huge. Ever notice how Miss India is usually pretty light skinned? Among the African-American community the common euphemism is to "even out" one's skin tone. They're shooting for a Halle Berry skin tone.
From what I know of my own culture, we value pale skin as well.
I guess what I wonder is whether white people created this standard of beauty or whether most cultures already valued 'white' features, and that white people just got lucky.
Methinks the answer lies twixt the two.
Oh, and in other news, I went to choir for the first time in a long time.
It's good to be back.
On Monday, I attended a lecture by Hooker Distinguished Visiting Professor Evelyn Nakano Glenn. She gave a lecture called "Yearning for Lightness". It was about how light skin has become a sign of increased social status both between racial groups AND within racial groups. She said this is for three reasons:
1. Colonialism - Here she gave the example of how Ghandi apparently tried to wash his skin lighter when he was a child so he could look more like the British colonists.
2. Global Capital - I think here she is talking about the global distribution of wealth, and the dissemination of the Western standard of beauty by the Western media.
3. Indigenous Standards - It is possible that many cultures thought pale skin was beautiful even before colonialism or global capitalism.
Apparently, the market for skin lightening products is a huge. Ever notice how Miss India is usually pretty light skinned? Among the African-American community the common euphemism is to "even out" one's skin tone. They're shooting for a Halle Berry skin tone.
From what I know of my own culture, we value pale skin as well.
I guess what I wonder is whether white people created this standard of beauty or whether most cultures already valued 'white' features, and that white people just got lucky.
Methinks the answer lies twixt the two.
Oh, and in other news, I went to choir for the first time in a long time.
It's good to be back.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
How I listen to music
Sonically, I'm not about variety. I pick two or three songs. And I play them, essentially exclusively, for weeks at a time. Generally speaking, at any one time, there are only a few songs playing on my speakers and in my head. Over and over and over.
To make it onto my playlist, a song can be of essentially any genre (Hip Hop, Pop, Musicals, Dance, Folk, Rock), but it must (MUST!) be able compel me to either:
a) Move to it.
or
b) Sing along with it.
Currently, I'm listening to:
1. Fix You by Coldplay
2. These Words by Natasha Bedingfield
3. Somewhere Only We Know by Keane
One can only imagine the influence that one's auditory environment exerts upon one's state of mind. Maybe I should guard my current playlist more carefully, so my enemies don't gain some sort of psychological advantage.
To make it onto my playlist, a song can be of essentially any genre (Hip Hop, Pop, Musicals, Dance, Folk, Rock), but it must (MUST!) be able compel me to either:
a) Move to it.
or
b) Sing along with it.
Currently, I'm listening to:
1. Fix You by Coldplay
2. These Words by Natasha Bedingfield
3. Somewhere Only We Know by Keane
One can only imagine the influence that one's auditory environment exerts upon one's state of mind. Maybe I should guard my current playlist more carefully, so my enemies don't gain some sort of psychological advantage.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
The First Cut is the Deepest
I am aging.
My skin betrays me.
I am not naive enough to fall in love anymore.
Life is a thousand little heart breaking defeats, punctuated by bits of goodness and light.
You must keep your head up, though your shoulders pull it down with the weight they carry.
The freedom of the coming year shall be unlike any I will enjoy until the day I retire. Should this make me happy or sad? Already, time and opportunities slip, slide and skitter past my outstretched hands. Can I grasp enough of the goodness, enough of the light to create something I can be proud to call my own?
They say that life is in the journey, but in the end, what use is a journey unless you reach the destination?
My skin betrays me.
I am not naive enough to fall in love anymore.
Life is a thousand little heart breaking defeats, punctuated by bits of goodness and light.
You must keep your head up, though your shoulders pull it down with the weight they carry.
The freedom of the coming year shall be unlike any I will enjoy until the day I retire. Should this make me happy or sad? Already, time and opportunities slip, slide and skitter past my outstretched hands. Can I grasp enough of the goodness, enough of the light to create something I can be proud to call my own?
They say that life is in the journey, but in the end, what use is a journey unless you reach the destination?
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