jeudi, août 30, 2007

Back to School


Less than a week remains before school starts, and I've only just gotten into my lazy summer spirit a week ago. All I want is just to be able to go to sleep whenever I felt like it, and battle zombies and skeletons to hone my battle monk skills. But now I have to start thinking about textbooks, tuition, timetables, and orientation day.

Well, the good news is that -after very minimal consideration- I've decided to make an addition to my skimpy timetable earlier tonight. I will now be attending German lectures on Mondays Tuesdays and Thursdays. However frank it may be, that German is merely a substitute for the French class I couldn't register in time for, I am gradually beginning to feel a bit of excitement about the course. I mean, I've always loved German movies, and German sausages. How can I not love the German language?

With this new addition, I will be spending my first term studying English, Visual Arts, Computer Sciences, and of course German. Hoorah!

On an unrelated note, I've discovered that if I get into bed at just the right time of night, I am treated to a splendid view of the moon from my bedroom window. All I have to do is look up and out from between my down-tilted blinds. It's quite sublime really. The night after the eclipse the moon was full, and shone light brighter than a LED headlight in the dead of the night. My bedroom was so well illuminated that I could read Snow Crash just by moonlight alone. I didn't want to risk ruining my poor eyes however, so I resisted the urge and simply continued my moon gazing in silence until I drifted into sleep.

Watching the moon seriously makes me wish I owned the old manual canon film camera I like, paired with a sturdy tripod. Equipped with those, I can take photos of the moon with the camera's b-setting. Well... my birthday is coming up... just a thought.
Heh, but seriously, I think I will visit the school a week or two into the school year to ask Mr. Stanley for advice on camera shopping and to give my favourite art teacher -Mrs. John- a present and a big hug.

samedi, août 18, 2007

Teethbrushing Diaries



I started a new tube of toothpaste today, and it tastes like cough syrup.

lundi, août 13, 2007

My Week At Work


For the better part of the last month and a half, I've been feeling mixed towards my job. I fluctuated between enjoying my job then despising it as often as Adam Sandler makes crappy famedy movies these days. But no more. After all of that indecisiveness, I've made an executive decision; I've decided that I don't like my manager. In fact, I don't particularly like my job either. I bow to you all, as I join the rank of the millions of people who also dislike their jobs. Three cheers, hooray!

I've actually concluded my post-camping first week on a pretty high note, in spite of the series of unfortunate mess-ups that I've generated at work in just four work days:

Incident #1:
This particular incident happened directly as a result of camping. You see, I was scheduled for the morning shift starting at 11:00am, I did not expect to arrive home from Harrison lake until 1:00pm the earliest on that same day. Clearly, we have a bit of a problem on our hands.

The most sensible thing I could think to do in such a situation at the time was to call in sick around the time my shift started. So at 11:15, I call, waiting for Mia (whom I was suppose to share a shift with) to pick up. I get the answering machine. No worries, I try again. And again. And again. Each time I was greeted with the mechanical voice of the Studio's answering machine. With no alternative options in sight, I leave a message, explaining my unfortunate case of food poisoning which is inhibiting me from arriving at work. I try to put the problem out of my head, as there is nothing I could do to get to work.

I arrive back home to find a message for me from Jas through my sister; "Where the heck are you, you're suppose to be at work!" I decide not to call back because I'm supposed to be sick. I see Jas two days later, as anticipated, she inquired about my whereabouts on Monday. I recite to her my bad case of the food poisoning like I rehearsed.
She countered quickly, "But when I called your house, your sister told me you weren't home."
"Well that's because I spent the day at a friend's house. "
Jas looked at me with a raised eyebrow. She doesn't buy it. Mind you, I don't blame her, to an experienced manager like herself, my little bluff was probably as convincing as trying to tell her I'm related to a three-toed sloth.

I shrug it off, head home as usual and RPG my evening away.

Incident #2:
A woman from another branch was coming in Friday to evaluate me and two of my co-workers. I had stayed up late the previous night reading Snow Crash, so I get out of bed groggily and glare at my alarm clock, it was 8:45am. I had about half an hour before I leave for work, so I take my time and meander slowly around the house, in and out of the washroom then into the kitchen. I turn on an element to preheat for some scrambled eggs, before I threw a casual glance at the oven clock, the bright green digital numbers on the black screen reflected the time: 9:55. Holy crap. It happened again! My goddamned alarm clock malfunctioned again and messed up the time.

Needless to say, I was forced to call in work, and explain that I was going to be about twenty minutes late. On my evaluation day. I show up, then try my best to make up for it by taking initiative and being hyper attentive when my evaluator spoke. In the end though, I still did an average job.

I shrug it off, head to UBC and wander around for a couple of hours, then headed home and read some Snow Crash.

Incident #3:
So I'm sharing a shift with Mia, and we had an appointment coming up in about thirty minutes. The studio is empty save for the two of us, Mia's making phone calls, all the basic things that need to be done are done, and there doesn't seem to be a single customer within thirty square foot of the Studio. I figured I could probably read for ten minutes or so until the appointment time. I'm standing at the counter and reading about the Metaverse, when I heard foot steps coming from behind. I decide it's best that a customer doesn't see my reading at the counter, so I quickly put my book away as the person approached. I turn around and met the gaze of my manager.
"Oh hi Jas!" I greeted, astonished at her presence.
"What's this?" she asked , as she grabbed my book out of my hand, she took one look, her face went from stern to angry.
"You're reading a book!" she screeched, rather stating the obvious.
She then proceeded to spend the next ten, fifteen minutes lecturing me about how we don't get paid to stand around and read. I apologize, promise not to let it happen again with a finger crossed behind my back.


I guess I'm just pretty laid back about my work, while my manager's strung up so tight that I wouldn't be surprised if she had a wedgie half the time. I'm considering starting the hunt again. I'll probably want to keep this job around, however, for both the income and the experience/credentials. Also, I feel that one of the major reasons I don't enjoy work is because of how much my attitude differs from my manager's. Maybe my job could be more enjoyable if I worked at the Brentwood branch. Though it would make for an awkward conversation explaining to my boss that I want to transfer to a farther branch because I don't like her.

mercredi, août 01, 2007

It Buzzes...


It buzzes.

As I sit here typing away, it continues to buzz. The fly flies circles around and around the perimeter of my bedroom. The small ball of dirty black hovers momentarily every now and then before resting on my ceiling fan, then proceeding to heartily slam itself against my window repeatedly before moving on, buzzing incessantly as it resumes its laps around my walls. The buzzing noise increases in volume at the fly approaches my desk; then it recedes as it distances itself once more, before approaching again, in an endless cycle.

It buzzes.

As I re-enter my bedroom a few moments later with a most dramatical entrance, fly zapper in one hand, rolled up newspaper in the other. Slowly, fly zapper raised in the air, I inch towards the fly, as it rests on my lamp. I hold my breath and swing down, I miss. It buzzes, as I flail my arms around wildly like a bear with a honey comb stuck on its head.

It buzzes.

As I sit down in defeat. I open my Opera browser and decided to do some reading to distract myself from the eternal buzzing. I indulge myself in some Wikipedia and Slashdot articles, intermittent with occasional outbursts of profanity as I swipe viciously at the fly when it gets too close to my head. After some Bash.org and forum surfing I come across this:

I have a very serious problem. I'm fucking crying because of how stupid I am.

Okay, so my girlfriend was supposed to come over to my house today because I was going to go take her to a movie. She lives about 20 minutes away, and the movie we were supposed to see started at 4:15, which was in about 40 minutes. I figured "cool, I'll just play Pokemon while I wait".

So I'm playing Pokemon, and having a pretty damn good time. Anyway, she finally does show up, except she's crying as she walks into my room. Instead of doing the right thing by comforting her, I half-focus on my game and her. She starts telling me her cat died, and just as she was getting into it, I get into a random encounter in my game.

A shiny pidgey. Holy shit. (For those of you who don't know/care, shiny pokemon have less than a 1/1000 chance of appearing). I stare into my screen in amazement, yelling "holy shit, YES", interrupting her mid-story. She sobs more, and she starts to yell "You don't even fucking care! YOU JUST WANT TO PLAY YOUR FUCKING GAME!" I'm still looking at my screen, still focusing on catching my shiny pidgey, when she walks over, and tosses the game against the wall. I run over and pick up my DS hoping that nothing has changed on screen, and quickly noticed that she broke it. My system and my shiny pidgey, gone forever.

I start screaming every obscenity I know, and started flailing my arms around. I didn't know she was behind me, and apparently I backhanded her in the face while I was being a dumbass and swinging my fists around. She yells out "FUCK YOU", and runs out of my house in tears.

What have I done? I've fucked up so badly, and I need to know how to approach her. I don't want a game of Pokemon to be responsible for ruining my best relationship ever. Help me.

I stare blankly at my computer screen before exploding in laughter. I laugh for a good twenty minutes, then I remembered,

It buzzes.

I think I'm going to look for a net. Wish me luck.