Sunday, December 27, 2009

Different Paths

I've just spent the last 10 minutes analyzing pictures of an old high school classmate's boobs, observing them from different angles, wondering if they're real. Even I'm a little disgusted at how fascinated I am with them - I'm not the kind of girl who's particularly interested in breasts - but they're just so different from how I last saw them. SHE'S so different from how I last saw her.

And then it hit me - how different our paths are, since we went our separate ways after high school. I mean, we were never really close friends - actually, I didn't even know her that well - but I consider many of the people I went to high school with quite similar to me. Middle-class, Asian, reasonably good at school, reasonably well-behaving...

And here we are. She's...I think she's a shooter girl? A bartender? An alcohol promoter? And a "glamour model" (i.e. men's interest model) on the side, with very large, very fake breasts. (Side note: Why would someone so naturally well-proportioned and lovely make such a choice? Now she has a date with the knife every few years - so painful and scary and unnecessary. I hope it's at least made a huge difference in her income.) She has a boyfriend who looks like a total douche (not unlike her high school boyfriend, actually) who apparently makes enough money to buy her diamonds for Valentine's Day and to own a few very expensive cars.

I, on the other hand, am still an impoverished student, doing postgraduate studies, who just spent all my money applying to law school - to the point that I don't have any funds at all to buy anyone Christmas presents this year :( - still struggling in my quest to become self-sufficient. Single, by most definitions of the word, and, though not unfortunate-looking, not model-esque by any stretch of the imagination. Too chicken sh!t to go under the knife for anything that's not absolutely necessary for my health.

I guess I'm a little self-centered. I always thought that Asian girls my age are all doing what my friends and I are - going through too much school or starting to break out into the workforce doing jobs that require us to be, um, fully-clothed. Apparently that's not so!

Monday, December 21, 2009

Santa Stories

Do you remember when you found out the truth about Santa Claus?

I honestly don't. I do remember, however, that I didn't let on that I found out for a year or two because I wanted that extra present. :P Sneaky, I know.

It's like the biggest but also the most well-meaning hoax in the world, Santa Claus. (If you're one of those crazy folks who argue that he's a satanic figure, blah, blah, blah, SCREW OFF GO AWAY and read something else!) Finding out about him though, seems to be a symbol of a loss of innocence, or an awakening of logic, depending on how you describe your glass.

I personally hate it when people don't play along (like one of my uncles, who very seriously broke the news to my cousin when she was in grade one) because I think children lose their innocence and become alarmingly cynical too soon these days, and particularly because their children tend to ruin it for everyone else's kids on the playground. Also, it's because I really like the idea that it's a big game that everyone plays together all over the world, that unites all of us, even though there are different interpretations in different countries.

A couple weeks ago, my sweet friend, Dutchman, enlightened me about Dutch Santa Claus (or, rather, Sinterklaas). He said that in North Holland, where he's from, children are told that Santa lives in Madrid. He travels on a steamboat from Spain to their country and then he gets on rooftops (to access chimneys, you know) with the help of his horse. I think it's much more reasonable for every country to have their own Santa, don't you?

Anyway, Dutch children put their shoes in front of the fireplace and Dutch Santa will put a small gift in them, like a bag of chocolates or some other treats - the Dutch aren't as materialistic as we North Americans are, you know. :P If they've been bad, however, they will only get a bundle of sticks. The horse helps Santa climb onto rooftops, so to award/attract him, children will leave "horse food" (like carrots or some other veggies) in their shoes for him. Oh, and their Santa is also not obese - more proof that he's not the same guy as his North American counterpart!

I asked Dutchman how and when he found out about Santa, and he said he was about seven or so. He said that he noticed that the food he left out for Santa's horse ended up back in his fridge the next day, so he put two and two together. So clever, right?

And you, how and when did you discover the truth about Santa? If you didn't grow up in North America, what were you told about him?

P.S. Happy Holidays!!! XOXOXO

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

My Winter Break To-Do List

The following might be - *gulp* - tangible proof that I'm growing up. After a particularly depraved and messy night, I've decided that I need to come up with a to-do list for myself for this very long break, to ensure that I am, to some degree, still being productive. So this is what I want to accomplish during the break:

  1. Find a job.
  2. Clean my sh!thole of a room. (If that's not evidence of growing up, I don't know what is.)
  3. Read El amor en los tiempos del cólera and Le Comte de Monte-Cristo in their original languages, just so I don't lose all of my Spanish and French.
  4. Read Lolita.
  5. Cook and eat healthy food and, by extension, not fall off track with my project when Christmas rolls around.
  6. Drop a dress size.
  7. Apply to UBC and maybe UVic.
  8. See my friends a lot.
  9. Watch all the TV shows my mum's saved up and veg out next to the fireplace with her.
  10. Find an internship, maybe.

So there it is! I'm putting this up here so I can't go back on my word - hold me accountable!

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Mr. Nice Guy

Wikipedia was right about him. How convenient for me. Personal observations I've made independently, however, are as follows:

He absolutely lives up to "Mean what you say and say what you mean," and he also expects it of people. That's why he's the most unassuming person in the world, which is as endearing as it is frustrating.

It's almost as if he believes that everyone is well-intentioned. He's very child-like in that way. He sees la vie en rose and he is optimistic and he's pure of heart. He also sees the good in everyone. And if you win him over the first time he meets you, he'll always be on your side.

He doesn't dislike anyone, even if they're unpleasant, and he'd never talk smack about someone behind their back, which is why it makes him rather uncomfortable when he is an audience to such activity. It took some creativity and gentleness on my part when he asked me why people do this and I had to explain the fact of life to him that, honey, some people are just vindictive. And/or nosy.

But the paradox is that, while he's cheeky and child-like in some respects, he's also very street smart, probably because he's seen so much of the world. He's quite cosmopolitan, although it's somewhat common for "his kind." He's also a techno-nerd but musical. He's a party animal but he's very chill. Interesting combinations.

He's not that charming or charismatic, but he's so good-looking it makes up for that. Because of him I know that "big, brown eyes can hypnotize." He does this zapping thing with his that goes straight to my spine.

His most fascinating characteristic, to me, is that he's intimidatingly observant. He can perceive all kinds of things visually at a single glance that most people wouldn't see. It's made me wonder what he sees when he looks at me, but then I have to stop thinking about it, because I conclude that he probably sees all kinds of things about me that I hope he doesn't notice. Thankfully, he's too nice to ever note those things, or to make a person feel uncomfortable because of them.

And everywhere he goes, everyone he meets probably has the same reaction when they meet him: "Wow, what a Nice Guy."