While this Christmas has been relatively uneventful compared to the last few, I reckon it's actually been good that we've been able to just enjoy some family time together. Would've been a lot better had Sarah not been in France, but that's just how the cookie crumbles sometimes.
I'm fairly disappointed that Kris Kringle didn't go ahead this year, but again, in many ways, it's not such a bad thing. Although I do like exchanging presents, but there's no real point to it if nobody's up for it.
I was tossing up whether to go to Boxing Day 'sales' tomorrow or not. I'm now leaning heavily towards the 'not', mainly because I don't really have all that much to buy, or all that much money to spend. And really, the 'sales' that most stores offer are either on one or two dodgy items, or they're sales you can find at any time of the year. Also, too many people. I have a mild phobia of crowds. A mild, mild phobia. And it's not irrational. I think it's an extremely rational fear.
Plus, it's either sales or working for dad tomorrow. I think I know where my loyalties lie. And possibly, if we smash out enough work tomorrow, I might be able to catch the Arsenal game on Tuesday. Not that that has anything to do with me wanting to work tomorrow or anything.
Anyway, Merry Christmas to you all. Hope you all had a fantastic day today, full of laughter, quality time with friends and family, and, most importantly of all, love.
Word of the Day: Phobia
Showing posts with label father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label father. Show all posts
Saturday, 25 December 2010
Sunday, 5 September 2010
Dun dun dun
Week 8 of uni coming up, and my sense of impending doom isn't quite as strong as it was last semester. Perhaps it's sort of a sign that I'm working slightly harder.
And in a complete contradiction to this, I went to Eugene's 21st last night.
Well, it wasn't just me. But I did go there.
A good gig overall. Not much else to say apart from that. Apart from wondering why I always get a pimple before parties. Ruins the photos. Not that I'm exactly photogenic in the first place.
Also, I dislike how that Jonathan guy mocks me. Probably thinks he's all that just because he's good-looking.
Good Father's Day today too. Had coffee with the family, minus Sarah, and went to visit grandpa later because it happened to be his birthday as well. I give money to grandpa to buy himself some food (don't worry if you don't understand, it's a very Cantonese thing), and Sarah tells me that I'm her hero. I don't know why. Personally, I don't think I'm the very heroic type, despite what I told Meng last night about me going to protect Gotham City (I was trying to get away from him. Quickly). I'm also not a particularly good role model. But yeah. I'll take it as a compliment.
On the topic of good-looking, I haven't gymmed in a while. Like, 1.5 weeks. I feel my muscles atrophying. It's so lame. They take so long to toughen up, but they go away so quickly. Kind of like...trust. Yeah. Muscles are like trust. Profound to the maximum.
Word of the Day: Profound
Saturday, 28 August 2010
Seven times three times a million
Hmm. That downing (it's like a combination between turning and down) point seems to be creeping up on me again. All the good stuff that's happened at the start of this week seems to be slowly evaporating. Like the last of the winter snow disappearing on the first day of spring sunshine. Except not in that kind of positive way. How apt that winter is ending soon.
Anyhow. My expected two interviews has now turned into a definite one. Which is a bit of a downer, as I thought that my 82% on the aptitude test was pretty good. Meng got 88, and he got a call, but I didn't. 82%. That means that, statistically, I am better than 82% of the people working in accounting and finance at analysing stuff and whatnot. And it still does not seem to be good enough. Still, I'm holding out hope that they'll give me a call on Monday.
Also, I have a lot of work due, I want to buy stuff but I've been forbidden from spending too much money, and I have a lot of twenty-firsts that I want to go to, but I can't because I'm a failure, so I'm going to have to pick a few. So here's the list:
1. James. Fo sho. It's been on my radar for a while, and he's in my top five friends. And I'm making a speech. Look out for it. (Also, the dinner should be really nice. Not that that influences my decision or anything).
2. Eugene's. Probably just going to go for an hour or so, due to my massive workload.
3. Rui's. This one, I actually want to go to (not that I don't want to go to the others), but it's quite a bit of money, and I have a vendetta against China Bar. But it's not so much those two reasons as me having a mountain of work to do.
4. Timothy's. Probably not. I don't really know him that well, and yeah. Work.
5. Ben Niles. Most likely, but still in the process of working out the logistics.
6. Linda's. Probably not. I'm fairly sure she doesn't want to talk to me anymore, and she's inviting me just to humour me. We haven't talked for about...I don't even know how long now. It's kind of sad. You know, you're getting along with someone, and, for some reason or another, it just dies.
And I think that's just about all of the one's on my list right now. I'm expecting at least about five more in the near future. I love how August/September/October always try and bankrupt me. Well, it won't work this time. I'm making money from different revenue streams. Except I still have to get a Father's Day present. And birthday presents for my parents. And presents for my imaginary girlfriend.
I seriously don't know how people with more friends than me (and I think that's just about everybody, especially with respect to Facebook friends) would cope in my situation. Probably just not go to any.
My birthday's awesome. It's during the holidays. See, that's how good a friend I am.
Word of the Day: Twenty-firsts
Monday, 10 May 2010
A proverb charges money to do what an amateur verb does for free
Just to add to what I wrote up late last night, my good friends also have a certain amount of intelligence. Which ties in with making me laugh, because, in my opinion, to be verbally funny requires a very high level of intelligence.
Anyway, I'm going to articulate another thought that I've had for a long time.
See, people always quote these proverbs. Things like "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind," or "Money can't buy you happiness." I dislike it when people quote these kind of sayings to me. Proverbs like these are just dumb. They can't be proven, and are way too general and extreme.
Let's take the latter proverb, for example. See, I would say that, while money in and of itself doesn't make you happy, it certainly goes a long way to making you happy. Case in point being the guy on the street without a dollar in his pocket. Ask him how happy he is. However, I believe the guy who has millions of dollars in the bank account wouldn't be too happy either if he had nobody to love, and nobody to love him. I believe that a more appropriate saying would be something like "Money isn't the end all and be all in life, but it's certainly good to have, amongst other things, such as friends, love, and fun." But of course, this doesn't fit neatly into a few words, so generalisations and blanket terms must be used.
Also, other ones which are more wishful thinking than actual observations, and their subsequent application when something happens that actually fits the saying. Things like "What goes around comes back around." I wish that were the case too. Unfortunately, from observation, most of the time it isn't. I see people who are complete jerks scoring good jobs, girls, and unconditional adoration from 90% of the world. And then, there are times when they get their come-uppance, and you think "They had that coming." But that's just us fitting that isolated incident into this neat little proverb.
Yes, I realise that I may be over-analysing. But the people who quote these things to me started it. They treat these things as their own personal little bible, like they are correct and incontrovertible in every instance.
There are sayings that actually make sense, and can actually be found to exist in this world of ours, and they are pure gold. My favourite is one that my dad quotes sometimes, and is Chinese. It goes something along the lines of (rough translation coming up):
It's absolutely beautiful in Chinese. It's summarise in six characters, three of which are repeated. Say what you like about Chinese, about how hard it is, and confusing, or whatever, but it can be a very poetic language.
This proverb I find to be true. You can see it in everyday life. You have to pull your own weight, do your own work, try your best, before other people can help you, and before luck can go your way. I'm not saying it's always the case, but how many people do you see winning the lottery, and have never done any hard work in their life? A few more that are observable and that I like are:
William Blake, I believe that was.
And one to finish off from Chris Martin. Obviously not a proverb, but still. This one applies to me, but it may not apply to you. I like to believe that it touches a spot deep within everybody, because I like to believe that most people have hearts, and feel love sometimes. Possibly one of my all-time favourite quotes. And yes, I have quoted it numerous times.
Word of the Day: Proverb
Anyway, I'm going to articulate another thought that I've had for a long time.
See, people always quote these proverbs. Things like "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind," or "Money can't buy you happiness." I dislike it when people quote these kind of sayings to me. Proverbs like these are just dumb. They can't be proven, and are way too general and extreme.
Let's take the latter proverb, for example. See, I would say that, while money in and of itself doesn't make you happy, it certainly goes a long way to making you happy. Case in point being the guy on the street without a dollar in his pocket. Ask him how happy he is. However, I believe the guy who has millions of dollars in the bank account wouldn't be too happy either if he had nobody to love, and nobody to love him. I believe that a more appropriate saying would be something like "Money isn't the end all and be all in life, but it's certainly good to have, amongst other things, such as friends, love, and fun." But of course, this doesn't fit neatly into a few words, so generalisations and blanket terms must be used.
Also, other ones which are more wishful thinking than actual observations, and their subsequent application when something happens that actually fits the saying. Things like "What goes around comes back around." I wish that were the case too. Unfortunately, from observation, most of the time it isn't. I see people who are complete jerks scoring good jobs, girls, and unconditional adoration from 90% of the world. And then, there are times when they get their come-uppance, and you think "They had that coming." But that's just us fitting that isolated incident into this neat little proverb.
Yes, I realise that I may be over-analysing. But the people who quote these things to me started it. They treat these things as their own personal little bible, like they are correct and incontrovertible in every instance.
There are sayings that actually make sense, and can actually be found to exist in this world of ours, and they are pure gold. My favourite is one that my dad quotes sometimes, and is Chinese. It goes something along the lines of (rough translation coming up):
Firstly, you have to help yourself. Then other people can help you. Then the heavens can help you.
It's absolutely beautiful in Chinese. It's summarise in six characters, three of which are repeated. Say what you like about Chinese, about how hard it is, and confusing, or whatever, but it can be a very poetic language.
This proverb I find to be true. You can see it in everyday life. You have to pull your own weight, do your own work, try your best, before other people can help you, and before luck can go your way. I'm not saying it's always the case, but how many people do you see winning the lottery, and have never done any hard work in their life? A few more that are observable and that I like are:
No bird soars to high if he soars with his own wings
William Blake, I believe that was.
And one to finish off from Chris Martin. Obviously not a proverb, but still. This one applies to me, but it may not apply to you. I like to believe that it touches a spot deep within everybody, because I like to believe that most people have hearts, and feel love sometimes. Possibly one of my all-time favourite quotes. And yes, I have quoted it numerous times.
It's weird that whatever else is on your mind, whether it's the downfall of global economics or terrible environmental troubles, the thing that always gets you most is when you fancy someone.
Word of the Day: Proverb
Sunday, 9 May 2010
I found a pro
What an action-packed weekend this has been. Best one I've had in a while too.
Friday
It all started with the purchase of an iMac on Friday night. Why an iMac, you may ask. Well, my parents decided that my littlest sister, Michelle, needed a computer, and asked me for my professional opinion. I came to the conclusion that, since PCs for the same amount of money pretty much give you the same amount of go, we should get an iMac, just to have something different and more useful for graphic-y stuff. So we moseyed on down to the Apple Store in Shoppo (insert obligatory 'bro' here).
On the way, I almost got into a fight with an Asian in a BMW. He was in the next lane, I cut him off a bit. He had ample time to stop, but he decided to incessantly honk me anyway. My father honked him back, and he swerved at me. After he found out that I would not, unfortunately, be scared of him, he angrily drove off. Jerk. By this time, the rain was getting ridiculously hard. Hard, like Financial Accounting hard.
Anyway, we got there, and scored a bargain. We asked for a change of keyboard, and they decided to just shout us the extra keyboard. The assistant then accidentally took the price of the keyboard off, on top of the student discount. She realised in the end, and we were willing to pay up, but the manager just let it go.
All capped off with coffee from Laurent.
Never going there again, by the way. Parking is just ridiculous. All aspects of it. Every single one. I have not been to a shopping centre with a more ludicrous carpark.
Driving back was an absolute nightmare. Could not see more than two metres ahead of me. Bit like walking around without my glasses.
Saturday
On Saturday morning, the friend who I said was having relationship problems in the last post told me that she had sorted them out. Good-o. I would've liked to point out that what she did was essentially follow my advice, and, fortunately for her, everything worked out fine. Good-o. Glad that it all worked out for her. I also just noticed that I used good-o twice in the same paragraph. What kind of loser says good-o?
Saturday night was Josh's 21st birthday partay. I went for an hour and a bit, completely overdressed, and was planning to go home at around 9:30. I did leave at 9:30, but mainly because Linda had told me she was also leaving a party then, and also sort of maybe needed to go Mother's Day shopping. Longish story short, we went to Burwood K-Mart and she helped me pick out a maddogz cooking book set. Women are good at that sort of thing. We then raided Coles (women are also good at that sort of thing), and went on a run to Maccas.
Maccas was good stuff. Stayed there for an hour and a bit. Seemed a lot shorter than it actually was. With BYO yogurt too. And the final event of the night was this guy I sort of knew, because he looks like his other six siblings, two of which I used to know, asking me for two dollars, which I told him I didn't have. I'd much rather donate it to the Ronald McDonald Charity House then give money to idiot teenagers hanging around McDonald's at 12 at night. I did actually donate money to the Ronald McDonald thing, but that's another story for another time.
And yes, I have no idea why I'm always in a suit either. I think out of the three times we've gone somewhere together, two of those have featured me in a suit. She probably thinks that's what I where casually.
A classic case of the afterparty being better than the party. Not that the actual party wasn't good. Catching up with old friends and all that. But yeah. I'm sure you understand. Happy birthday Josh.
Sunday
Finally set up the iMac after reconfiguring the computer room. Oh, and I also gave mother the gift, on top of the maddogz mug that we bought from T2. She completely overvalued the books. Her rough estimate was 60 bucks. I lol'd. Her price guessing is usually a bit better than that. Better, like how I'm better at seeing with my glasses on than without them on. I think that's about it for Sunday.
I also managed to get a bit of work done this weekend too. Amazing.
I've also been quite profound this week. I think I've almost exhausted my stock of profoundness. But I've had this little nugget stored away for a while, so it doesn't really count. I've just decided that now is an appropriate time to unleash it.
I've just realised that I don't have that much in common with most of my friends. At least, not on a superficial level. Sure, we share some of the same interests, and we do a few things in common. But quite apart from that, there are a few things that make these people my friends:
1. They're there for me. They back me up, and are always willing to lend me a hand, if it's in their power to do so.
2. They make me laugh.
3. I can talk to them, and they can talk to me.
4. They have integrity, and are people with morals and principles which I also share.
I believe that the above four characteristics are the foundations for forming relationships, and that superficial things, such as common interests and tastes, just act as a good starting point. Kind of like a conversation starter, if you will. Even if the person in question listens to the music that I do, follows the same football team that I do, eats the same food I do, and laughs at the same things that I laugh at, it doesn't mean anything if they don't care about you, and aren't there for you when you need them. I guess what I'm trying to say is that having shared interests is kind of like a bonus, and the most important thing is that your principles and moral compass are compatible, and that you care about each other.
I've come to this conclusion through my own bitter experience with a person who seemed made for me, based on commonality, blah, blah, blah. And what ultimately screwed me over was the fact that she didn't care about me one jot. I guess I'd known that from the start, but hey, I do a lot of stupid things, and will likely do many more in the not-too-distant future.
I've also known for a long, long time that I don't have many friends that fit the above four points. And I guess that's what makes them so valuable, rare, and special.
Anyway, if you've made it to this point, I commend you. I really do. I can't even be bothered reading that again. Not that I normally do. But yeah. It's a bit big, isn't it? Kind of like Empire State Building big. Ok, that's enough metaphors for tonight.
Word of the Day: Profound
Friday
It all started with the purchase of an iMac on Friday night. Why an iMac, you may ask. Well, my parents decided that my littlest sister, Michelle, needed a computer, and asked me for my professional opinion. I came to the conclusion that, since PCs for the same amount of money pretty much give you the same amount of go, we should get an iMac, just to have something different and more useful for graphic-y stuff. So we moseyed on down to the Apple Store in Shoppo (insert obligatory 'bro' here).
On the way, I almost got into a fight with an Asian in a BMW. He was in the next lane, I cut him off a bit. He had ample time to stop, but he decided to incessantly honk me anyway. My father honked him back, and he swerved at me. After he found out that I would not, unfortunately, be scared of him, he angrily drove off. Jerk. By this time, the rain was getting ridiculously hard. Hard, like Financial Accounting hard.
Anyway, we got there, and scored a bargain. We asked for a change of keyboard, and they decided to just shout us the extra keyboard. The assistant then accidentally took the price of the keyboard off, on top of the student discount. She realised in the end, and we were willing to pay up, but the manager just let it go.
All capped off with coffee from Laurent.
Never going there again, by the way. Parking is just ridiculous. All aspects of it. Every single one. I have not been to a shopping centre with a more ludicrous carpark.
Driving back was an absolute nightmare. Could not see more than two metres ahead of me. Bit like walking around without my glasses.
Saturday
On Saturday morning, the friend who I said was having relationship problems in the last post told me that she had sorted them out. Good-o. I would've liked to point out that what she did was essentially follow my advice, and, fortunately for her, everything worked out fine. Good-o. Glad that it all worked out for her. I also just noticed that I used good-o twice in the same paragraph. What kind of loser says good-o?
Saturday night was Josh's 21st birthday partay. I went for an hour and a bit, completely overdressed, and was planning to go home at around 9:30. I did leave at 9:30, but mainly because Linda had told me she was also leaving a party then, and also sort of maybe needed to go Mother's Day shopping. Longish story short, we went to Burwood K-Mart and she helped me pick out a maddogz cooking book set. Women are good at that sort of thing. We then raided Coles (women are also good at that sort of thing), and went on a run to Maccas.
Maccas was good stuff. Stayed there for an hour and a bit. Seemed a lot shorter than it actually was. With BYO yogurt too. And the final event of the night was this guy I sort of knew, because he looks like his other six siblings, two of which I used to know, asking me for two dollars, which I told him I didn't have. I'd much rather donate it to the Ronald McDonald Charity House then give money to idiot teenagers hanging around McDonald's at 12 at night. I did actually donate money to the Ronald McDonald thing, but that's another story for another time.
And yes, I have no idea why I'm always in a suit either. I think out of the three times we've gone somewhere together, two of those have featured me in a suit. She probably thinks that's what I where casually.
A classic case of the afterparty being better than the party. Not that the actual party wasn't good. Catching up with old friends and all that. But yeah. I'm sure you understand. Happy birthday Josh.
Sunday
Finally set up the iMac after reconfiguring the computer room. Oh, and I also gave mother the gift, on top of the maddogz mug that we bought from T2. She completely overvalued the books. Her rough estimate was 60 bucks. I lol'd. Her price guessing is usually a bit better than that. Better, like how I'm better at seeing with my glasses on than without them on. I think that's about it for Sunday.
I also managed to get a bit of work done this weekend too. Amazing.
I've also been quite profound this week. I think I've almost exhausted my stock of profoundness. But I've had this little nugget stored away for a while, so it doesn't really count. I've just decided that now is an appropriate time to unleash it.
I've just realised that I don't have that much in common with most of my friends. At least, not on a superficial level. Sure, we share some of the same interests, and we do a few things in common. But quite apart from that, there are a few things that make these people my friends:
1. They're there for me. They back me up, and are always willing to lend me a hand, if it's in their power to do so.
2. They make me laugh.
3. I can talk to them, and they can talk to me.
4. They have integrity, and are people with morals and principles which I also share.
I believe that the above four characteristics are the foundations for forming relationships, and that superficial things, such as common interests and tastes, just act as a good starting point. Kind of like a conversation starter, if you will. Even if the person in question listens to the music that I do, follows the same football team that I do, eats the same food I do, and laughs at the same things that I laugh at, it doesn't mean anything if they don't care about you, and aren't there for you when you need them. I guess what I'm trying to say is that having shared interests is kind of like a bonus, and the most important thing is that your principles and moral compass are compatible, and that you care about each other.
I've come to this conclusion through my own bitter experience with a person who seemed made for me, based on commonality, blah, blah, blah. And what ultimately screwed me over was the fact that she didn't care about me one jot. I guess I'd known that from the start, but hey, I do a lot of stupid things, and will likely do many more in the not-too-distant future.
I've also known for a long, long time that I don't have many friends that fit the above four points. And I guess that's what makes them so valuable, rare, and special.
Anyway, if you've made it to this point, I commend you. I really do. I can't even be bothered reading that again. Not that I normally do. But yeah. It's a bit big, isn't it? Kind of like Empire State Building big. Ok, that's enough metaphors for tonight.
Word of the Day: Profound
Thursday, 8 April 2010
It was not a nightmare
Wooooo. Three days of ups and downs. One could almost say it's been hektik. If I were to sketch a graph about it, it'd be almost parabolic. Almost.
Okay, so slight exaggeration. But only slightly.
It started on Monday. Duh.
Because I apparently drive a yellow Ford Falcon, and because my name is apparently Sanjay (this is all according to Meng), I drove all the way to Clayton to pick Meng up, and then back my way to pick Vincenzo up to go to Linda's Ambassador reunion bash. I drove them down to Forest Hill for some last-minute shopping, which was a party in itself.
Arriving at Linda's street, I was all like "Why is this car stalking me?" Unbeknownst to me, it was Linda stalking us, in her stalkermobile. Mega confusion about house numbers, but we got there in the end.
And a quaint little house she has. It's of the warm and cosy variety, with a massive garden. Enormous garden. Could fit a circus tent there. And chickens.
Anyway, we finally got the oven going thanks to the genius of Vince, and other people started turning up. We ended up cooking lasagne, with Seb in charge. I learnt the well-guarded secret of how to make lemon and lime bitters. A secret which has been passed down the generations of the Gao family, and they guard with their lives. Kind of makes you wonder how I know it now.
We met Linda's massive brother, Jonath...I mean, Bill. He's in Year 7, and he's about a head taller than I am. We had some Wii fun. Well, they did. The irony is I never got to face off against Bill. He's pretty cool, by the way. We also had a bonfire and Mafia madness. I think there are some people who are still confused about the logic and object of the game, but what can you do? Run a Mafia seminar?
It was at this point where I was made to feel awkward. I made a gay reference in the presence of a gay person. Like, it wasn't that bad. It's not like I was insulting gay people. Or even laughing at them. But still, I feel kind of bad for doing it now.
We then played darts. Clearly, I'm awesome at that game. More like awesome at putting holes in the wall behind the dartboard!
Driving home was a bit scary. I ran a red light right outside the house, purely by accident, because it was an obscure red light, and there were no cars. The roads were actually empty.
Very fun night in all, apart from the no alcohol business, and the tactless gay reference. Not that I drink alcohol or anything, but a white wine wouldn't have gone amiss. Actually, I should have just had one. Stupid. Regrets. However, I did not turn a night out into a nightmare, so I did my parents, and the Government, proud.
Tuesday was more Wii fun at Banh's. Again, fewer people turned up than expected, but Linda's is the only thing I've been to that had more people turn up than expected. Like, ever. So it's really not that great a surprise. And it was still very fun. Well, I thought so.
From thereon in, it started getting bad. When I got home, my father was not a happy chappy. Some issues with relatives in that place called China. Not that that directly affected me or anything, but I just find it hard to be happy when people close to me aren't. Maybe I'm like some sort of reverse Dementor.
Then, the yesterday morning, Arsenal got thumped by a very good Barcelona team. I'm actually proud of the lads though. To get into the lead against Barca, even if for a few minutes, at the Camp Nou, takes some doing. Especially with five of their best players out, including their captain and best midfielder in the world. Playing against a team with a player like Messi. Absolutely majestic. You forget that he's only 168cm tall, or something like that. That's how scary he is. He just runs into the box at will, dragging you left, right, left, right. At pace too. And on aggregate, the Gunners scored three goals against the best team in Europe. Not many teams can pull that off.
Ok, so not much of a parabola. Told you it was a bit of an exaggeration. I should probably get some work done soon.
Word of the Day: Parabola
Okay, so slight exaggeration. But only slightly.
It started on Monday. Duh.
Because I apparently drive a yellow Ford Falcon, and because my name is apparently Sanjay (this is all according to Meng), I drove all the way to Clayton to pick Meng up, and then back my way to pick Vincenzo up to go to Linda's Ambassador reunion bash. I drove them down to Forest Hill for some last-minute shopping, which was a party in itself.
Arriving at Linda's street, I was all like "Why is this car stalking me?" Unbeknownst to me, it was Linda stalking us, in her stalkermobile. Mega confusion about house numbers, but we got there in the end.
And a quaint little house she has. It's of the warm and cosy variety, with a massive garden. Enormous garden. Could fit a circus tent there. And chickens.
Anyway, we finally got the oven going thanks to the genius of Vince, and other people started turning up. We ended up cooking lasagne, with Seb in charge. I learnt the well-guarded secret of how to make lemon and lime bitters. A secret which has been passed down the generations of the Gao family, and they guard with their lives. Kind of makes you wonder how I know it now.
We met Linda's massive brother, Jonath...I mean, Bill. He's in Year 7, and he's about a head taller than I am. We had some Wii fun. Well, they did. The irony is I never got to face off against Bill. He's pretty cool, by the way. We also had a bonfire and Mafia madness. I think there are some people who are still confused about the logic and object of the game, but what can you do? Run a Mafia seminar?
It was at this point where I was made to feel awkward. I made a gay reference in the presence of a gay person. Like, it wasn't that bad. It's not like I was insulting gay people. Or even laughing at them. But still, I feel kind of bad for doing it now.
We then played darts. Clearly, I'm awesome at that game. More like awesome at putting holes in the wall behind the dartboard!
Driving home was a bit scary. I ran a red light right outside the house, purely by accident, because it was an obscure red light, and there were no cars. The roads were actually empty.
Very fun night in all, apart from the no alcohol business, and the tactless gay reference. Not that I drink alcohol or anything, but a white wine wouldn't have gone amiss. Actually, I should have just had one. Stupid. Regrets. However, I did not turn a night out into a nightmare, so I did my parents, and the Government, proud.
Tuesday was more Wii fun at Banh's. Again, fewer people turned up than expected, but Linda's is the only thing I've been to that had more people turn up than expected. Like, ever. So it's really not that great a surprise. And it was still very fun. Well, I thought so.
From thereon in, it started getting bad. When I got home, my father was not a happy chappy. Some issues with relatives in that place called China. Not that that directly affected me or anything, but I just find it hard to be happy when people close to me aren't. Maybe I'm like some sort of reverse Dementor.
Then, the yesterday morning, Arsenal got thumped by a very good Barcelona team. I'm actually proud of the lads though. To get into the lead against Barca, even if for a few minutes, at the Camp Nou, takes some doing. Especially with five of their best players out, including their captain and best midfielder in the world. Playing against a team with a player like Messi. Absolutely majestic. You forget that he's only 168cm tall, or something like that. That's how scary he is. He just runs into the box at will, dragging you left, right, left, right. At pace too. And on aggregate, the Gunners scored three goals against the best team in Europe. Not many teams can pull that off.
Ok, so not much of a parabola. Told you it was a bit of an exaggeration. I should probably get some work done soon.
Word of the Day: Parabola
Monday, 25 January 2010
Negative parabola?
Ok, so some of my friends have either forgotten that I exist, are ignoring me, or just don't rank me high enough in the grand scheme of things to give me even a courtesy call.
But that's ok.
I've tried. Many times in some cases. Sometimes I find it hard to come to terms with the fact that effort doesn't always yield results. Actually, this occurs quite often. I have a bad habit, or a good habit in some circumstances, of believing that you can almost fix anything if you put enough effort/time/money into it.
But over time, I've sort of become more and more accepting of effort not equating to results. I've come to accept that you can't really do much more than try your hardest. In the case with relationships and friends, trying hard without seeming too pushy/annoying. Once you get to that annoying stage, where the other person has nothing but contempt for you, you should've stopped trying earlier, because that's the point where you've tried your hardest. It's like a negative parabola.
In other news, I worked for my dad again today. Man, his work has a lot of variety. The other day, it was putting cement sheeting on walls. Lots of the time it's tiling walls or floors. Today, we were jackhammering mud and concrete, and I was shoveling it out of there. I really empathise with the guys in that book I read in Year 8, Holes. It's about these guys who have to dig a five foot by five foot hole in the desert every day at this illegal camp called Camp Green Lake, ostensibly as punishment for their crimes. It's a great, great book, but I just felt first hand how tough it would be to dig a hole that big every day. In the desert. I mean, I was digging for like, 40 minutes, with mini-breaks, in Melbourne weather, and my fingers and knees were killing me by the end.
I also drove there and back. I'm starting to regain some of my skills in driving. Some. My close control has gotten a lot better already. Or maybe it's just my confidence.
Saturday night was a good one. Best work people reunion dinner ever. Basically it turned out being the people that I hang around with at uni, and happen to be some of my closest friends. Oh, and Kira. Looking forward to Banh's Australia Day shindig tomorrow. Should be a 'stoking' good one. Sorry, in-joke.
Word of the Day: Ditched
But that's ok.
I've tried. Many times in some cases. Sometimes I find it hard to come to terms with the fact that effort doesn't always yield results. Actually, this occurs quite often. I have a bad habit, or a good habit in some circumstances, of believing that you can almost fix anything if you put enough effort/time/money into it.
But over time, I've sort of become more and more accepting of effort not equating to results. I've come to accept that you can't really do much more than try your hardest. In the case with relationships and friends, trying hard without seeming too pushy/annoying. Once you get to that annoying stage, where the other person has nothing but contempt for you, you should've stopped trying earlier, because that's the point where you've tried your hardest. It's like a negative parabola.
In other news, I worked for my dad again today. Man, his work has a lot of variety. The other day, it was putting cement sheeting on walls. Lots of the time it's tiling walls or floors. Today, we were jackhammering mud and concrete, and I was shoveling it out of there. I really empathise with the guys in that book I read in Year 8, Holes. It's about these guys who have to dig a five foot by five foot hole in the desert every day at this illegal camp called Camp Green Lake, ostensibly as punishment for their crimes. It's a great, great book, but I just felt first hand how tough it would be to dig a hole that big every day. In the desert. I mean, I was digging for like, 40 minutes, with mini-breaks, in Melbourne weather, and my fingers and knees were killing me by the end.
I also drove there and back. I'm starting to regain some of my skills in driving. Some. My close control has gotten a lot better already. Or maybe it's just my confidence.
Saturday night was a good one. Best work people reunion dinner ever. Basically it turned out being the people that I hang around with at uni, and happen to be some of my closest friends. Oh, and Kira. Looking forward to Banh's Australia Day shindig tomorrow. Should be a 'stoking' good one. Sorry, in-joke.
Word of the Day: Ditched
Wednesday, 13 January 2010
Car-ed
At long, long last, I have obtained a vehicle.
Yes, this time around, I have really obtained it. It's sitting in my newly-cleared-out garage right now.
The Corolla (I really need to think of a more creative name for it. 'My car' doesn't really quite cut it either) accelerates like a beast. Or as beasty as a small car can get. It's has absolutely no problems accelerating.
And the colour. Oh man. I'd forgotten how good the colour was. During this past week, I'd been sort of regretting choosing this colour, even though I didn't have much choice. It was either black, or this, which is a no-brainer. Black cars get dirty and hot very quickly.
Turns out I'd remembered the colour wrong in my mind. I thought it was a lot darker. Turns out it's more of a light silvery blue, rather than the dark blue that I had remembered. It's so mad. So classy, yet so much more exciting than silver.
Bootspace is massive. Like, you could fit two of me in there probably.
And best of all, I can plug an iPod in there. Oh yes. My whole music collection. None of this CD shuffling.
I'm kind of scared of driving it now though. I have no idea why my parents bought a new car in the first place. Not that I'm complaining. But insurance is massive, until I'm 25. Which I thought was a bit extreme. I mean, I'm a late starter, but I would've been driving for five years by then. But, as my father says, they clearly don't value customers in our age bracket.
But the fact still remains that I haven't driven for about 10 months. So it'll be a while before I'm burning up a street near you.
Word of the Day: Corolla
Yes, this time around, I have really obtained it. It's sitting in my newly-cleared-out garage right now.
The Corolla (I really need to think of a more creative name for it. 'My car' doesn't really quite cut it either) accelerates like a beast. Or as beasty as a small car can get. It's has absolutely no problems accelerating.
And the colour. Oh man. I'd forgotten how good the colour was. During this past week, I'd been sort of regretting choosing this colour, even though I didn't have much choice. It was either black, or this, which is a no-brainer. Black cars get dirty and hot very quickly.
Turns out I'd remembered the colour wrong in my mind. I thought it was a lot darker. Turns out it's more of a light silvery blue, rather than the dark blue that I had remembered. It's so mad. So classy, yet so much more exciting than silver.
Bootspace is massive. Like, you could fit two of me in there probably.
And best of all, I can plug an iPod in there. Oh yes. My whole music collection. None of this CD shuffling.
I'm kind of scared of driving it now though. I have no idea why my parents bought a new car in the first place. Not that I'm complaining. But insurance is massive, until I'm 25. Which I thought was a bit extreme. I mean, I'm a late starter, but I would've been driving for five years by then. But, as my father says, they clearly don't value customers in our age bracket.
But the fact still remains that I haven't driven for about 10 months. So it'll be a while before I'm burning up a street near you.
Word of the Day: Corolla
Saturday, 9 January 2010
Mighty Morphin' Power...Andrew
While working for dad today, I observed the difference that attire and hairstyle can make to how people treat you.
Today, I wandered into Macca's with my dad for lunch. I was dressed in a faded old orange Reebok t-shirt and my artistic paint-encrusted track pants, and not wearing my customary watch. Oh, and I was wearing my old sneakers with the bottom falling off. Not that the girl serving us at the counter would've seen that.
Or maybe she did as we were walking in. She looked like she had an attitude problem anyway. We ordered, and she looked as though she didn't want to even look at us. Understandable, which is the point I was trying to make. It kind of didn't help that my hands had grime all over them.
We then went to the house of my dad's next client. Their daughters pretty looked down their noses at us. Even after we helped them with the door and luggage and all that, which is so not part of our job description. Also, I believe it may also have to do with the fact that I was virtually mute there. I think they were very surprised when they heard me speak, and found out that I actually spoke literate English.
I'm not suggesting that I'm the most alluring male on Earth. God no. Far from it. But I'm sure that if I were wearing something half-decent, and didn't have my hands covered in a substance resembling sewer gunk, I'd have at least gotten a smile, or something similar. Well, I usually do in similar situations anyway, if I'm not wearing my tradie clothes.
Yes, when I'm all casual, or semi-formal, people treat me almost normally. However, when I'm in a suit, it goes to a whole new level. Ah, then, I start getting more - as they say about websites - 'hits'. People take more notice. And, for some strange reason, I'm more likely to be called 'sir'. Or maybe that has more to do with the places that I go when I'm in a suit. Speaking of which, I should probably take my sleeves up on my suit.
I'm not suggesting that everyone is as vain as I paint them to be. Some people actually understand why I'm dressed the way I am, and may not take me for an illiterate person just because I'm not speaking. But most people form a lot of their opinions on appearances. I think we all do to a certain extent. But I think a lot you good people tone it down a bit.
On a side note, the first client that we visited today said I had a tinge of an American accent in my English. Not 'typically Australian' English, apparently. I think it may be because I was speaking in my 'polite' accent. I do it subconsciously, in an attempt to sound less bogan. But I'm not unused to this. I've been told that I sound like a wog, sound like someone with a permanently sore throat, sound like my dad. The whole gammut. I don't know about you, but I think I sound like me.
Word of the Day: Tradie
Today, I wandered into Macca's with my dad for lunch. I was dressed in a faded old orange Reebok t-shirt and my artistic paint-encrusted track pants, and not wearing my customary watch. Oh, and I was wearing my old sneakers with the bottom falling off. Not that the girl serving us at the counter would've seen that.
Or maybe she did as we were walking in. She looked like she had an attitude problem anyway. We ordered, and she looked as though she didn't want to even look at us. Understandable, which is the point I was trying to make. It kind of didn't help that my hands had grime all over them.
We then went to the house of my dad's next client. Their daughters pretty looked down their noses at us. Even after we helped them with the door and luggage and all that, which is so not part of our job description. Also, I believe it may also have to do with the fact that I was virtually mute there. I think they were very surprised when they heard me speak, and found out that I actually spoke literate English.
I'm not suggesting that I'm the most alluring male on Earth. God no. Far from it. But I'm sure that if I were wearing something half-decent, and didn't have my hands covered in a substance resembling sewer gunk, I'd have at least gotten a smile, or something similar. Well, I usually do in similar situations anyway, if I'm not wearing my tradie clothes.
Yes, when I'm all casual, or semi-formal, people treat me almost normally. However, when I'm in a suit, it goes to a whole new level. Ah, then, I start getting more - as they say about websites - 'hits'. People take more notice. And, for some strange reason, I'm more likely to be called 'sir'. Or maybe that has more to do with the places that I go when I'm in a suit. Speaking of which, I should probably take my sleeves up on my suit.
I'm not suggesting that everyone is as vain as I paint them to be. Some people actually understand why I'm dressed the way I am, and may not take me for an illiterate person just because I'm not speaking. But most people form a lot of their opinions on appearances. I think we all do to a certain extent. But I think a lot you good people tone it down a bit.
On a side note, the first client that we visited today said I had a tinge of an American accent in my English. Not 'typically Australian' English, apparently. I think it may be because I was speaking in my 'polite' accent. I do it subconsciously, in an attempt to sound less bogan. But I'm not unused to this. I've been told that I sound like a wog, sound like someone with a permanently sore throat, sound like my dad. The whole gammut. I don't know about you, but I think I sound like me.
Word of the Day: Tradie
Tuesday, 29 December 2009
Emotaphor
Random thought while in the gym today. No double meaning, no sinister intent. Just a thought.
Emotional pain is a very close metaphor to physical pain.
See, what I was thinking today, while my arm was sort of hurting, was that with the technology we have today, we could make human bodies immune to pain.
But what good would that do? That would mean that a crazy psycho mutant scorpion thing was gnawing on our foot, and we wouldn't be able to feel it.
Physical pain is trying to warn us from doing something. Like sticking out hand into a festering pit of poisonous reptiles for instance, or attacking a nest of African bees.
Sometimes, however, we ignore this pain, or grit our teeth and get over it, because the end result outweighs the momentary pain. Like getting a tooth pulled out, or my dad fighting through the pain in his arm to work 10+ hours per day.
It's the same with emotional pain. Sort of. Like, you feel it, and you know that you should try and avoid the situation that caused it in the first place. Except with emotional pain, there are even less rational situations where you would be inclined to go back and take the pain again. And yet, somehow, it so often happens that we will take emotional pain again and again, whereas with physical pain, we eventually concede defeat. Like rejection, or being ignored. No matter how many times it hurts, most people keep plugging away at it.
Interesting. I don't know why that is, probably because I haven't studied the almighty mind-opening discipline of psychology, or something of that ilk. Seems like a worthwhile subject to take. But only if they talk about random things like this.
Word of the Day: Sighcology
Emotional pain is a very close metaphor to physical pain.
See, what I was thinking today, while my arm was sort of hurting, was that with the technology we have today, we could make human bodies immune to pain.
But what good would that do? That would mean that a crazy psycho mutant scorpion thing was gnawing on our foot, and we wouldn't be able to feel it.
Physical pain is trying to warn us from doing something. Like sticking out hand into a festering pit of poisonous reptiles for instance, or attacking a nest of African bees.
Sometimes, however, we ignore this pain, or grit our teeth and get over it, because the end result outweighs the momentary pain. Like getting a tooth pulled out, or my dad fighting through the pain in his arm to work 10+ hours per day.
It's the same with emotional pain. Sort of. Like, you feel it, and you know that you should try and avoid the situation that caused it in the first place. Except with emotional pain, there are even less rational situations where you would be inclined to go back and take the pain again. And yet, somehow, it so often happens that we will take emotional pain again and again, whereas with physical pain, we eventually concede defeat. Like rejection, or being ignored. No matter how many times it hurts, most people keep plugging away at it.
Interesting. I don't know why that is, probably because I haven't studied the almighty mind-opening discipline of psychology, or something of that ilk. Seems like a worthwhile subject to take. But only if they talk about random things like this.
Word of the Day: Sighcology
Sunday, 27 December 2009
Haiku's are easy, but sometimes they don't make sense, refrigerator.
Quite frankly, I feel like rubbish right now.
Yesterday I developed an annoying sore throat/cough, impeding my ability to converse with people. Granted, not many people really want to hear what I have to say anyway, but it's still annoying. It also makes it seem like I'm always angry, because I don't want to talk. Which is totally not true. Most of the time.
Anyway, yesterday my dad asked me to trim the hedges. Then he found out my throat felt like it was on fire. Don't know how. He may have some psychic ability or something. Or maybe it was the fact that my reply of "Ok" sounded more like a grainy piece of sand paper being drawn across a very rough patch of tarmac. Who knows.
So then he was all like "You really shouldn't, you know, with a sore throat and all. Leave them for me." But what kind of self-respecting son would leave these menial tasks to his already hard-working father?
So I manned up and did it anyway. I don't think it really did more damage to the throat. Or maybe it just feels like it didn't do that much damage in comparison to the burning sensation that I now feel in my arm.
No, I didn't cut myself with the hedge trimmer. My old enemy, sunburn, came back to get me. It didn't help that I'd been reading with my left arm in the sun for the entire morning to begin with either. I think the extended hedge trimming pushed it over the edge.
This morning I developed a sniffle, which I think is just allergy, as I haven't gotten a headache or similar. At least not yet.
So despite the slight ache in my arms from the hedge-cutting frivolities of yesterday afternoon, I decided to gym it up a bit.
Now my arms hurt even more. And my left arm still feels like it's on fire. And I still have a sore throat and a runny nose and a cough. Oh, and my knee injury is actually getting worse. It's freaking creaking now.
To cap it all off, people, or a person, is deliberately ignoring me, or has a more woeful memory than I do.
And this is why I took this thing off Facebook. I don't want people to see me pitying myself. I don't even want to see it. I just don't want to keep it bottled up again, or I might explode from frustration.
I leave you with a Haiku of my own composition.
When you are with me,
You're different to when you're not,
I'm very confused.
Word of the Day: Hurting
Yesterday I developed an annoying sore throat/cough, impeding my ability to converse with people. Granted, not many people really want to hear what I have to say anyway, but it's still annoying. It also makes it seem like I'm always angry, because I don't want to talk. Which is totally not true. Most of the time.
Anyway, yesterday my dad asked me to trim the hedges. Then he found out my throat felt like it was on fire. Don't know how. He may have some psychic ability or something. Or maybe it was the fact that my reply of "Ok" sounded more like a grainy piece of sand paper being drawn across a very rough patch of tarmac. Who knows.
So then he was all like "You really shouldn't, you know, with a sore throat and all. Leave them for me." But what kind of self-respecting son would leave these menial tasks to his already hard-working father?
So I manned up and did it anyway. I don't think it really did more damage to the throat. Or maybe it just feels like it didn't do that much damage in comparison to the burning sensation that I now feel in my arm.
No, I didn't cut myself with the hedge trimmer. My old enemy, sunburn, came back to get me. It didn't help that I'd been reading with my left arm in the sun for the entire morning to begin with either. I think the extended hedge trimming pushed it over the edge.
This morning I developed a sniffle, which I think is just allergy, as I haven't gotten a headache or similar. At least not yet.
So despite the slight ache in my arms from the hedge-cutting frivolities of yesterday afternoon, I decided to gym it up a bit.
Now my arms hurt even more. And my left arm still feels like it's on fire. And I still have a sore throat and a runny nose and a cough. Oh, and my knee injury is actually getting worse. It's freaking creaking now.
To cap it all off, people, or a person, is deliberately ignoring me, or has a more woeful memory than I do.
And this is why I took this thing off Facebook. I don't want people to see me pitying myself. I don't even want to see it. I just don't want to keep it bottled up again, or I might explode from frustration.
I leave you with a Haiku of my own composition.
When you are with me,
You're different to when you're not,
I'm very confused.
Word of the Day: Hurting
Wednesday, 16 December 2009
Possible return to Macau
I just remembered something, very randomly.
See, I made a wish at a temple in Macau. And according to Chinese tradition, if my wish comes true, I have to return there and thank the temple.
Now, I'm not particularly superstitious, but, like my father, I do believe that it is best not to go out of your way to tempt fate.
Problem is though, I sort of remember what I wished for, but not whether or not I put a time frame on it. Put simply, I'm fairly sure that I wished for my wish to come true in two years, if I remember correctly. But I'm not sure if I should still go back if it happens after that, because I think it was bound to happen eventually anyway. I should ask about it.
But this is all a null point. The thing that I wished for hasn't happened anyway. I still have no idea why it sprung up in my mind.
Word of the Day: Macau (again?)
See, I made a wish at a temple in Macau. And according to Chinese tradition, if my wish comes true, I have to return there and thank the temple.
Now, I'm not particularly superstitious, but, like my father, I do believe that it is best not to go out of your way to tempt fate.
Problem is though, I sort of remember what I wished for, but not whether or not I put a time frame on it. Put simply, I'm fairly sure that I wished for my wish to come true in two years, if I remember correctly. But I'm not sure if I should still go back if it happens after that, because I think it was bound to happen eventually anyway. I should ask about it.
But this is all a null point. The thing that I wished for hasn't happened anyway. I still have no idea why it sprung up in my mind.
Word of the Day: Macau (again?)
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