Thursday, November 25, 2004
http://rhee.dakindesign.com/
Such hilarity.
I'm definitely having second thoughts about posting pictures of myself on the internet. I wasn't planning on doing it anytime soon, but who knows, there might be an occasion that calls for it. Like, say, 'Jenny grows a mustache!' Let's all hope that never, ever, happens.
Such hilarity.
I'm definitely having second thoughts about posting pictures of myself on the internet. I wasn't planning on doing it anytime soon, but who knows, there might be an occasion that calls for it. Like, say, 'Jenny grows a mustache!' Let's all hope that never, ever, happens.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
I don't think I have ever laughed so hard at a movie. The Spongebob Squarepants Movie is a masterpiece. 90 minutes of pure fun. The theatre was fuller than usual, and I had to sit next to a little blond girl. When I said "That looks terrible" at the end of a preview, the little girl hissed, "Shush!" Meanwhile, her three-year old sister was wailing like an animal and probably pissing all over the place. I did not poke her in the face. Another sign of maturation.
At the end of it, some elementary school boys at the front stood up, pounded their fists into the air and screamed, "YEAH SPONGEBOB! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!" I felt like doing the same, but I didn't want to embarrass my friends.
I couldn't talk about anything else the entire weekend. As always, my parents fell to the receiving end of my nonstop chatter. "It grew, JUST LIKE THAT. He grew a mustache by pure will! Mom, seriously, I don't understand why you don't watch Spongebob."
Go see it. Seriously.
At the end of it, some elementary school boys at the front stood up, pounded their fists into the air and screamed, "YEAH SPONGEBOB! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!" I felt like doing the same, but I didn't want to embarrass my friends.
I couldn't talk about anything else the entire weekend. As always, my parents fell to the receiving end of my nonstop chatter. "It grew, JUST LIKE THAT. He grew a mustache by pure will! Mom, seriously, I don't understand why you don't watch Spongebob."
Go see it. Seriously.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Little bit less than healthy these days. Breathing not quite through the nose, and speaking/singing/caterwauling in a sort of gross, quasi-nasal, pimp-like way. Usually when I feel a soreness going up my throat I heal myself by overdosing on Vitamin C and it works pretty well. (I don't actually have vitamin C pills lying around the house. I merely consume ridiculous amounts of fruit). Didn't work too well this time. Missed two days of school. Not at all as great as it would otherwise be, this staying home business. Tricks my brain into thinking it's the weekend while it most definately is not. Assignments and upcoming exams loom over me, making every minute listening to inane pop music or sleeping and not working seem ill-spent. Awful, awful feeling.
A glance at the calendar shows impending due dates, and causes breathing to be restricted and blood pressure increased. Okay, so the big mother of a philosophy paper is due in December, so the weight of that on my head is not as heavy as the others, even though I know finals are around the same time and I'll probably be completely insane then. The English research paper is due November. This month! And what topic did yours truly pick? Something to do with post-traumatic stress disorder in children! Could I have picked a more depressing topic?
I'm suddenly reminded of a biking incident several days ago where I missed hitting a pedestrian's crotch by mere millimeters. Bless my trusty brakes and my great er...breaking skills. The other person was completely at fault. He saw me coming, it was fairly crowded, and as we got closer to each other he started doing the indecisive left-right jerking motion that always result in collision. Make up your mind! I'm going straight, because it seems like you're going to walk around me, but please, left or right, pick one! After changing his mind several times he decided the choice was too hard to make and to just go straight. My front wheels stopped ever so timely in front of him, the big indecisive turd, standing there, legs apart, staring at me like I'm the idiot. We both watched as I breaked to a stop dangerously close to his groin. "Watch out" he said. Watch out? Watch out? YOU watch out! You'll be surprised to know that I did not swear at him and bike right into his crotch. I biked away silently and rolled my eyes. Definately evidence of maturation.
A glance at the calendar shows impending due dates, and causes breathing to be restricted and blood pressure increased. Okay, so the big mother of a philosophy paper is due in December, so the weight of that on my head is not as heavy as the others, even though I know finals are around the same time and I'll probably be completely insane then. The English research paper is due November. This month! And what topic did yours truly pick? Something to do with post-traumatic stress disorder in children! Could I have picked a more depressing topic?
I'm suddenly reminded of a biking incident several days ago where I missed hitting a pedestrian's crotch by mere millimeters. Bless my trusty brakes and my great er...breaking skills. The other person was completely at fault. He saw me coming, it was fairly crowded, and as we got closer to each other he started doing the indecisive left-right jerking motion that always result in collision. Make up your mind! I'm going straight, because it seems like you're going to walk around me, but please, left or right, pick one! After changing his mind several times he decided the choice was too hard to make and to just go straight. My front wheels stopped ever so timely in front of him, the big indecisive turd, standing there, legs apart, staring at me like I'm the idiot. We both watched as I breaked to a stop dangerously close to his groin. "Watch out" he said. Watch out? Watch out? YOU watch out! You'll be surprised to know that I did not swear at him and bike right into his crotch. I biked away silently and rolled my eyes. Definately evidence of maturation.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
...Continued
On Tuesday night I watched various news stations for results on the election and followed live blogging. Live blogging is far more interesting than the news, unless you include Jon Stewart. Late into the evening as the polls became more and more in favor of Bush I could imagine the disappointment in my country and the heavy drinking that was going to ensue. Must Drown The Sorrow! We're Fucked! Pass Me Another One!
I was sad at the disappointment in my country. I didn't like the negativity. I didn't like the way some Americans want to move to Canada, like leaving the country was going to solve everything, although the idea was funny. I didn't like the fact that Bush won because he had half of the citizen's votes. A president should have at least 70% of the people's support. I wasn't angry at Bush's win. It was a passive acceptance, with a shrug of the shoulders and a mumbled 'Let's see what happens now'. I am pleased in the sense that we now get to see Bush carry out his long term plan, if he has one, and allow him to finish what he started. He will be held accountable for whatever happens in the next four years, and the pressure is on. I'm glad he won as a result of voters' decisions, and not the ruling of the supreme court.
It was hard to imagine someone else suddenly stepping into office and seamlessly continuing the job with knowledge of all the details. How much does a candidate know about a president's job? How much does Kerry know about what it takes to run a country? How much does Howard Dean? While I'm at it, how much does Bush?
When things go wrong, to blame is instinctive. But it's futile and causes a collective sense of anger and frustration. Abusive, hateful, verbal attack shouldn't be the only way to voice disagreement. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable discussing politics. It's not something I'm fond of and not something I know very much about. We hardly, if ever, talk about politcs in my family, and my parents don't tell each other who they vote for, and I think it's better that way.
I am still unclear about many things, but I think Andrew Sullivan says it nicely and clearly:
On Tuesday night I watched various news stations for results on the election and followed live blogging. Live blogging is far more interesting than the news, unless you include Jon Stewart. Late into the evening as the polls became more and more in favor of Bush I could imagine the disappointment in my country and the heavy drinking that was going to ensue. Must Drown The Sorrow! We're Fucked! Pass Me Another One!
I was sad at the disappointment in my country. I didn't like the negativity. I didn't like the way some Americans want to move to Canada, like leaving the country was going to solve everything, although the idea was funny. I didn't like the fact that Bush won because he had half of the citizen's votes. A president should have at least 70% of the people's support. I wasn't angry at Bush's win. It was a passive acceptance, with a shrug of the shoulders and a mumbled 'Let's see what happens now'. I am pleased in the sense that we now get to see Bush carry out his long term plan, if he has one, and allow him to finish what he started. He will be held accountable for whatever happens in the next four years, and the pressure is on. I'm glad he won as a result of voters' decisions, and not the ruling of the supreme court.
It was hard to imagine someone else suddenly stepping into office and seamlessly continuing the job with knowledge of all the details. How much does a candidate know about a president's job? How much does Kerry know about what it takes to run a country? How much does Howard Dean? While I'm at it, how much does Bush?
When things go wrong, to blame is instinctive. But it's futile and causes a collective sense of anger and frustration. Abusive, hateful, verbal attack shouldn't be the only way to voice disagreement. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable discussing politics. It's not something I'm fond of and not something I know very much about. We hardly, if ever, talk about politcs in my family, and my parents don't tell each other who they vote for, and I think it's better that way.
I am still unclear about many things, but I think Andrew Sullivan says it nicely and clearly:
"I've been more than a little frustrated by the president's handling of this
war in the past year; but we have to draw a line under that now. The past is
the past. And George W. Bush is our president. He deserves a fresh start, a
chance to prove himself again, and the constructive criticism of those of us
who decided to back his opponent. He needs our prayers and our support for
the enormous tasks still ahead of him. He has mine. Unequivocally."
Monday, November 08, 2004
Not A Political Site
For as long as I can remember, I have always been blissfully ignorant of politics and world affairs. My dad watches the news everyday, we subscribe to TIME, and I'm an avid reader, but I have never made the effort to educate myself on what's happening around the world. Part of that disinterest was due to the difficulty in understanding the news without sufficient knowledge in history and geography. History and geography have always been my weakest areas. I pride myself in knowing a substantial amount of music history, but I know nothing about the Gulf War, the conflict in the Middle East, and everything that has led to the topics in today's news. You'd be embarrassed at how little I know. It wasn't that I didn't care. Indifference, something I master at, was not what I felt towards world events. On the contrary, I react strongly to things I see and read about. Too strongly, perhaps. Reports of suffering and death cut me like knives. I don't need prior knowledge of world history to comprehend the level of pain that people are experiencing around the world. I see image after image of wounded children, I read story after story of terrorist attacks. They make me cry. Every single one of them.
I didn't see the point in following the news. It was too much effort, and nothing was going to alleviate the despair I felt. I recall nights in front of the computer, browser open to a news source, tears rolling down my face; newspaper open on my lap, mug of tea gripped in one hand, reading about the hundreds of Russian children that died when they were taken hostage, feeling such a palpable sense of loss and helplessness. Everything was fucked up. I was fucked up. While waiting at the doctor's I picked up a copy of MacLeans and on the first page I glanced at was a picture of a little boy and his father, sitting on the floor inside a yard surrounded by barbed wires. The father had a heavy, metal-like hood over his head, and was holding his son tightly in his arms. The caption stated that the father was a prisoner and was not allowed to be with his son. The son became extremely terrified and uncontrollable and was finally allowed to be with his father. The image showed, through the wires, the little boy looking into the distance, unaware of the danger and tragedies that lie ahead, content that his father was there and that everything was going to be okay. I broke down in that waiting room. Once again, I totally lost my shit.
I didn't want to subject myself to that kind of pain and tried to avoid potential bad-news sources. For weeks TIME published features on the occupation in Iraq, and it was something I couldn't understand and didn't really want to know anyway, so I read about robotic vacuum cleaners and Paris Hilton instead. I know everything about Paris Hilton.
Things changed this year. I was aware of the election and the candidates. I had some grasp on the issues being debated, and learned a lot about the two parties. I don't know what sparked the change. I was definately influenced by bloggers and online magazines. Everyone credited the number of new voters this year to the stakes, which are much higher they say. I don't really know what that means. I've always been very skeptical of the difference one man can make. Okay, let me rephrase. I've always been very skeptical of the effect one man in another country can have on me. While I know the candidates hold strong convictions and want the best for their country (and themselves), I hated the way they talked about each other. I know neither of them can accomplish all their goals and hold to all their promises, but they still have to be made and there has to be the effort. Instead of discussing goals, everything turned into a diatribe against the other side. The high level of Bush-hatred in Canada naturally drew my uninformed self unto the side most Canadians are on, although I am still unsure of where I stand because I know so little.
For the first time, I prayed for the world. I prayed for the suffering, I prayed for world leaders. Before the election, I prayed not for a particular candidate but for the guidance and wisdom of the American people. I prayed for a good leader.
Praying is all - and the best - I can do. And if you're like me, praying is the best you can do too.
For as long as I can remember, I have always been blissfully ignorant of politics and world affairs. My dad watches the news everyday, we subscribe to TIME, and I'm an avid reader, but I have never made the effort to educate myself on what's happening around the world. Part of that disinterest was due to the difficulty in understanding the news without sufficient knowledge in history and geography. History and geography have always been my weakest areas. I pride myself in knowing a substantial amount of music history, but I know nothing about the Gulf War, the conflict in the Middle East, and everything that has led to the topics in today's news. You'd be embarrassed at how little I know. It wasn't that I didn't care. Indifference, something I master at, was not what I felt towards world events. On the contrary, I react strongly to things I see and read about. Too strongly, perhaps. Reports of suffering and death cut me like knives. I don't need prior knowledge of world history to comprehend the level of pain that people are experiencing around the world. I see image after image of wounded children, I read story after story of terrorist attacks. They make me cry. Every single one of them.
I didn't see the point in following the news. It was too much effort, and nothing was going to alleviate the despair I felt. I recall nights in front of the computer, browser open to a news source, tears rolling down my face; newspaper open on my lap, mug of tea gripped in one hand, reading about the hundreds of Russian children that died when they were taken hostage, feeling such a palpable sense of loss and helplessness. Everything was fucked up. I was fucked up. While waiting at the doctor's I picked up a copy of MacLeans and on the first page I glanced at was a picture of a little boy and his father, sitting on the floor inside a yard surrounded by barbed wires. The father had a heavy, metal-like hood over his head, and was holding his son tightly in his arms. The caption stated that the father was a prisoner and was not allowed to be with his son. The son became extremely terrified and uncontrollable and was finally allowed to be with his father. The image showed, through the wires, the little boy looking into the distance, unaware of the danger and tragedies that lie ahead, content that his father was there and that everything was going to be okay. I broke down in that waiting room. Once again, I totally lost my shit.
I didn't want to subject myself to that kind of pain and tried to avoid potential bad-news sources. For weeks TIME published features on the occupation in Iraq, and it was something I couldn't understand and didn't really want to know anyway, so I read about robotic vacuum cleaners and Paris Hilton instead. I know everything about Paris Hilton.
Things changed this year. I was aware of the election and the candidates. I had some grasp on the issues being debated, and learned a lot about the two parties. I don't know what sparked the change. I was definately influenced by bloggers and online magazines. Everyone credited the number of new voters this year to the stakes, which are much higher they say. I don't really know what that means. I've always been very skeptical of the difference one man can make. Okay, let me rephrase. I've always been very skeptical of the effect one man in another country can have on me. While I know the candidates hold strong convictions and want the best for their country (and themselves), I hated the way they talked about each other. I know neither of them can accomplish all their goals and hold to all their promises, but they still have to be made and there has to be the effort. Instead of discussing goals, everything turned into a diatribe against the other side. The high level of Bush-hatred in Canada naturally drew my uninformed self unto the side most Canadians are on, although I am still unsure of where I stand because I know so little.
For the first time, I prayed for the world. I prayed for the suffering, I prayed for world leaders. Before the election, I prayed not for a particular candidate but for the guidance and wisdom of the American people. I prayed for a good leader.
Praying is all - and the best - I can do. And if you're like me, praying is the best you can do too.
