Life of a Reformed Jerk

Korean

2009-01-20T22:45:00.004-05:00

I've been acosted by Korean people off the street, asking for directions in Korean. I've been frowned upon by Korean grocers upset that I wouldn't speake to them in Korean. All these I've taken in stride because I can understand their confusion; I look Korean. But this, this I don't understand. How does Google know I look Korean?

Your Favorite Jerk

Long time no see

2009-01-19T16:49:00.001-05:00

In response to the latest comment ("what happed[sic] to your blog in the last year ... did grad school get to you?"), I submit the first entry of 2009, a picture of the traffic to this blog over the past three years:

Blogging isn't what it used to be. I think most of my friends and former readers of this blog are now on Facebook, and find it easier to keep up with things with quick status updates. The last time I resolved to pick up this blog again, I ended up posting two entries, but maybe this time it'll be different. Welcome back?

Your Favorite Jerk

Lights

2007-10-28T00:26:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago I was walking north on Donlands Avenue when I was struck by a strong sense of childhood nostalgia. Lured by the prospect of having something to think about while plodding monotonously along a mundane city street, I ventured to discover the origins of this passing feeling. I began my search by disassembling my surroundings into small, discreet components (such as sounds, colours, temperature, and people) which I then cross-referenced with my bank of childhood memories. One by one, I went through the list of possibilities, but all of them, save for the unremarkable ones like the time of night, the sound of cars, and the colour of the leaves, would have been foreign to my 1980s child counterpart. Dejected, I was ready to abandon the entire exercise, when I looked down the street and realized that all the light coming through the windows of the apartments lining the avenue was bright, fluorescent, and white. At first it was almost jarring. I am accustomed to seeing cold harsh fluorescent lighting in soulless offices, warehouses, and perhaps the odd American Apparel store, but I was shocked that anyone would accept such terrible lighting in their homes. And yet, here on a street populated mostly be new immigrant families, fluorescent lighting was not only accepted, but embraced by every family. It then dawned on me that these long fluorescent tubes, though cold and unwelcoming, cost much less to operate than their warmer but more power-hungry counterparts, the incandescent bulb. For this reason, they are as favored by both budget conscious new immigrants in 2007 as they had been by cash-strapped Shanghainese families in 1987. I grew up under the constant buzzing of the fluorescent tube. I learned my multiplication tables, watched Chinese-dubbed Transformers, and played with my mom and dad under the glow of this white light. It was little wonder that of all the tiny details in a scene from 2007, it was the white light from a common fluorescent tube that managed to transport me back to my childhood.

Chess

2007-10-10T13:59:00.001-04:00

"I do like to teach people," he said. "And I've taught so many kinds of people, you don't even know. The proudest teaching I ever had was I taught a pimp in New York. His name was Comfort, as in 'comfortable.' I was going down the street to my friend's house. I had my board with me. He said, 'You know anything about that game?' I said, 'Yeah.' He said, 'You have time to show me?' I said, 'Yeah.' He said, 'Step into my office,' which was a pink, long Cadillac. I got in. It had a bar in the car and everything. I started thinking, 'Now how in the world am I gonna show this pimp how to play the game of chess?' So he asked me, 'What do the queen do?' I said, 'The queen do all the work.' He said, ' Ohhhh, now what do the king do?' I said, 'The king don't do nothing.' His eyes lit up when he heard that. He said, 'Man, I like this game already.'"

From The Days and Knights of Tom Murphy, a Washington Post story about a Chess Hustler

Baby steps

2007-09-18T22:52:00.000-04:00

It has been a while since I've posted anything, so I suppose I should start with something small to ease myself back into things. Here are a couple of factoids about me that, until now, I've never disclosed to anyone. I've kept them a secret from the world because they're really very trivial; but then again, these are the little dots that connect together to delineate my individuality. That and I'm also very bored; and so, here you are:

1. When I board the west-bound TTC train by myself during rush hour at St. George station, I always let everyone rush onto the train before me so I can get on last. I do this because the way the stations are designed, once the south-side train doors close at St. George, they won't open again until Islington or somewhere thereabouts. This weird quirk in the TTC gives me a nice little alcove to settle into without being disturbed by the coming and going of other passengers. It's a small thing, but it's a secret that I've guarded with some satisfaction ever since I discovered it serendipitously some time last year.

2. Whenever I walk by the Metropolitan hotel and a Crew Transport bus arrives from the airport to unload a group of uniformed flight attendants, I hum the theme song from the movie Catch Me If You Can. Weird, I know.

Your Favorite Jerk...is back

Encounter with the Good Feathers

2007-04-02T22:10:00.000-04:00

You know who has no respect for man and his dominion over all creatures large and small? Pidgeons! In fact, one of these vile winged rodents had the audacity to hit me on the side of the head today as I crossed the street at the intersection of Yonge and Carlton. At first I thought I had upset a homeless guy and was on the receiving end of a hobo urine bag. But just as I turned my head to see my assailant, I heard the unmistakable flapping that only a pair dirty of wings belonging to a city dwelling pidgeon can make. In hindsight, I'm not sure which would have been worse, the bird or the bag of urine. The latter would have been more emotionally traumatizing, but at least urine is sterile. I'm afraid I can't be so sure about the bird-beast. My only consolation is that at least it flew away with enough vigor to discount the possibility that it was infected with bird flu. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to wash my hair.

Your Favorite Jerk

Steak

2007-03-24T12:14:00.000-04:00

A picture is worth 1000 words, or so I've been told. In response, here's one I took of my dinner last Wednesday. I love the sizzle of juicy beef hitting hot cast iron skillet.

Your Favorite Jerk

Big difference

2007-03-15T16:52:00.000-04:00

I spent the morning recruiting new students, and despite the double-cohort we're getting this year, the candidates were not exactly awe-inspiring. Is it really unreasonable to expect university graduates to understand the difference between knowing something and knowing of something? If you know how to write programs in C++, you know it; but if you've only heard that C++ is a programming language, then you only know of it: big difference.

Your Favorite Jerk.

Halifax

2007-01-31T22:19:00.000-05:00

I forgot to post pictures from my weekend conference in Halifax a couple of weekends ago, so here are a few to make up.

The biting cold in Halifax made every minute there seem like an hour--which in retrospect was both a terrible nuisance as well as a blessing since I only had about half a day to see the city. Judging from what little I saw of Halifax--in between ducking into desolate downtown buildings to thaw out my extremities--I think Halifax might be a very pretty city during the more hospitable seasons. I really would like to go back in the summer one one day to test this hypothesis. But in the winter, the following bit of conversation between me and a cab driver should give you a pretty good idea of what the place is like:

Me: I'd like to go to the harbour please.
Driver: You're not from around here, are you? This time of year, the harbour is cold! Ain't nobody down there. Where you from?
Me: I just came in from Toronto a couple of days ago. I think it should be okay. I don't plan to stay by the water too long.
Driver: Toronto! Ha! Trust me, buddy. This here ain't no wussy dry cold like you're used to back home. The winds from the water'll freeze you to the bone! On a day like today, it'll feel like -25 all the way through. Harbour, right? Here we go!

It turns out the driver was right. All the locals, save for a stoic Theodore the Tugboat docked by the boardwalk, had long abandoned the harbour and none of the stores were open. I ducked into a seafood place for lunch after about 20 minutes and took a cab to the airport right after that. Halifax, I barely met ya.

Your Favorite Jerk

Wiii!

2007-01-17T15:06:00.000-05:00

How do you choose between two equally enticing options with different payoff schedules? That was the dilema I faced this morning as I woke to the irritating cacophony of my cellphone alarm clock. Before me lay two choices: the first, more immediately enticing option was to go back to sleep; the second, potentially more rewarding option was to get up and run quickly to the local Best Buy for a chance to purchase a Nintendo Wii system. Though I was still groggy, the thought of missing yet another Wii shipment was disconcerting enough to render the first option effectively unavailable.

I got up, got dressed, and walked briskly against the cold, unwelcoming wind of a January morning toward the Best Buy on Dundas street, where I presently find myself at the end of a long, snaking line creeping ever so slowly to a bank of cashiers, where a metal cage housed a small number of Wiis. By my rough estimate, there are roughly 15 people before me, and a similar number of Wiis in the cage. I realize there is little margin of error here, and I wait anxiously for the line to move.

The whole ordeal reminds me of the times when five year old me used to line up with my mom at the local outdoor market in Shanghai for eggs and other essentail food items that were always difficult to acquire. I suppose the fact that nearly two decades later I find myself waiting with equal anxiety for an entirely frivolous toy is either a testament to the progress that society has made, or an indication that the decadence of first world living is leading us to a dangerous precipice. But my mind is too preoccupied with the matter at hand to wax philosphical about such trivial matters as the consequences of unchecked consumerism. Instead, I am alarmed by the steady decrease of supplies in the cage.

At last, I arrive near the front of the line. Behind me is a river of agitated fathers, mothers, aunts, and uncles who are just as keen on getting a Wii as me. I see a Best Buy employee walk timidly towards us, with an expression that suggests bad news. "There are only three Wiis left," he says weakly, before quickly ducking behind a counter. I quickly do a count of the people in front of me and realize to my horror that there are exactly three people standing in front of me. As a let out a sigh of defeat and turn to leave with the rest of the disappointed crowd, one of the women in front of me excitedly tells me she's in line for a remote having secured a Wii earlier. In mere seconds, my system is flooded by a strong coctail of serotonin and adrenaline. Finally, at 9:35AM, after weeks of fruitless searching I get my hand on a Wii.

Your Favorite Jerk

Hockey Day in Canada

2007-01-14T15:53:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Tiffy's largess, I went to my first ever Canucks game outside of GM Place. I will leave the sports writing to the professionals, but I will say that the final 6-1 score for the Canucks made for a very entertaining game to watch. At least a fourth of the spectators were Canucks fans, and that proportion increased to almost half the audience as dejected Leafs fans trickled out of the ACC in disgust after Salo's power play goal in the third period. When Naslund scored to make it 6-1 for the Nucks the ACC sounded like the Garage as the Canucks fans--by now a full two thirds of the crowd--started giving Raycroft the Bronx cheer without any rebuttal from the remaining Leafs supporters. Go Canucks go!

Your Favorite Jerk

P.S.

The Canucks kid sitting two seats from us was the most annoying part of the night. If he were ten years older, I'm sure he would have been stomped by angry Leafs fans in the parking lot. Good natured jeering is fun, but sometimes you have to show some respect when you're in the opponent's building.

The new season of 24 is breath taking!

2007-01-09T00:45:00.000-05:00

I was going to write a little blurb to recap the past year, but while I was doing that I got side-tracked by the first four episodes of the upcoming season of 24. If you have access to bittorrent, I encourage you to go check them out yourselves.

The episodes start off a bit slowly because Jack Bauer has turned soft after two years of being worked over by the Chinese. But by the fourth episode, things get very heated very quickly. In fact, even though I had to witness the death of one of my favorite characters in episode four, it is by far the best episode of 24 I've ever seen.

Your Favorite Jerk

In Vancouver

2006-12-30T20:40:00.000-05:00

I've spent the past few days showing Tiffy around Vancouver. So far, the weather has held up nicely, allowing us to see most of this city without too much rain. When I get back to Toronto, I will post pictures from our little adventure. Till then, Happy New Year, everyone.

Your Favorite Jerk

Take my breath away

2006-11-30T23:33:00.000-05:00

I'm 8000 ft above sea level in Snowmass, Colorado. At this altitude, every breath of air contains about 25% fewer molecules of oxygen than it would in Toronto. The body will try to compensate by increasing breathing rate, but often that isn't enough, and the result is a nasty set of symptoms including headaches and nausea. In order to avoid this altitude sickness, the lab and I arrived in Denver yesterday afternoon to acclimatize ourselves. So far, it seems to be working because aside from a very slight feeling of light-headedness, every thing seems normal. It's getting late, and I've had a long car ride today, so I will shower (the bathrobes here are delightfully fluffy!) and ~~watch some TV~~ chat with Tiffy while drinking some tea. More from Colorado soon.

Your Favorite Jerk

P.S.
I'm still on the look out for other Asians in this state. To date, I've only seen three, and one of them may have just been a white guy with hepatitis. Spooky.

You know you're tired when

2006-11-26T03:02:00.000-05:00

...you lose two games in a row playing tic-tac-toe against the computer. Seriously. Who loses to anyone in tic-tac-toe after the second grade?

Your Favorite Jerk

Mice

2006-11-21T17:07:00.000-05:00

I'm behind the times. Everyone in my lab (and probably everywhere else) have thrown out their old ball mice and replaced them with optical ones, but I'm still using my old white one. I like the old-school mouse because it has a very appealing simplicity. No other component in a modern PC can give you this satisfaction. Rip out a video card and all you'll see are transistors and capacitors. But open up the bottom of a ball mouse and you'll instantly understand how it works: a rubber ball rubs up against two rotating rods that relay the Cartesian coordinates of the device to the computer.

An even more compelling reason for my love of my ball mouse is the almost edifying experience I get to have every two weeks when I need to cleanse the ball of dust and other debris. It's a deliciously satisfying ritual: I open the bottom of the mouse, take out the ball, and lovingly go over it with a soft microfibre cloth I keep in my drawer for this very purpose; then I take a toothpick and carefully scrape off debris from the two perpendicular rods on the inside of the mouse; finally, I place the ball back in the cavity of the mouse and replace the cover. For a mere three minutes of work, I'm rewarded with a mouse that scrolls so smoothly it puts my labmates' optical mouse to shame.

I do love the small pleasures of the daily grind.

Your Favorite Jerk

Morose

2006-11-20T10:53:00.000-05:00

My highschool English teacher once wrote in my evaluation that I was morose. I thought the old man was blind and let his assessment slide on account of his senility. Ten years later, I think I may have prematurely dismissed poor Mr. Olsen (who, by the way, was my favorite teacher in those days). Today, if I were to make a list of adjectives that suitably describes me it would include such as dour, sullen, sulky, and misanthropic. But if I were inclined to be concise, I would require only one word: morose. I hope, however, that if this blog is still around in ten years, you will come back in 2016 and read that my new one-word-descriptor is 'exuberant' or some other likewise cheery adjective.

Your Favorite Jerk

Stuck between a rock and a hard place

2006-11-18T21:50:00.000-05:00

...and there, it seems, I shall remain for the forseable future. I always did have a poor sense of direction. Lttle surprise it led me here.

Nadir

2006-11-15T00:37:00.000-05:00

I am sapped of strength and motivation tonight. Perhaps a change of scenary in a couple of weeks will be the panacea I'm looking for. Though, in my current state of mind, I find that unlikely--altitude sickness and sub-zero temperatures will do little to cheer me up.

What I really need is a baseball bat and a room full of pinatas. I don't really care for the candy, but I could sure use a good swing at an easily destructible inanimate object right now. I am probably reverse projecting (if there is even such a thing). Lately I often feel like I'm an inanimate object, subject to the whims of a bat-wielding child who intersperses innocent laughter with wild swings of the bat, oblivious of my obvious fragility. On the bright side, when I'm destroyed I spill forth sweet candy.

Your Favorite Jerk

Gonna get me some soup!

2006-11-08T18:55:00.000-05:00

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Leaving the office in two minutes for take out from Yummy BBQ on Yonge. Nice bowl of spicey soup and whatever happens to be on Discovery Civilization this evening. That and a ton of work. But soup before work!

Your Favorite Jerk

Shipping and Receiving

2006-11-06T15:54:00.000-05:00

It's five minutes to noon and my referee's report, the final piece of a challenging scholarship application puzzle, has still not arrived from Vancouver. If I don't get the Fedex package with the report in the next five minutes, I probably won't get it at all today. That's bad news because my application is due at 5:00PM. It's time to toss the Easy button and bring out the Panic button.

I call Vancouver and politely ask for the Fedex tracking number of the report. The voice on the other end sounds at once confused and alarmed as it informs me that the package had been delivered at 9:30AM this morning and was signed by an A. Appleby. At this point both of us are worried because names like A. Appleby, J. Smith, and H. Jablome are common pseudonyms people give to get rid of the pesky courier asking for a signature early in the morning. If my suspicions are correct, the courier had probably been unable to find my office and dropped off the package to at nearest shipping and receiving office he could find. I thank the sender because I know it's out of her hands and rush down to the shipping and receiving warehouse to try my luck.

The warehouse looks uncanily like the fictional one at Dunder Mifflin, and the guys who work there have the same sartorial traits as Roy and the rest of his crew. I walk in cautiously, sidestepping packages marked Hazardous and Fragile, and reach one of the grey-suited men. I ask for A. Appleby and brace for the inevitable laughter. I expect the man to shout to his buddies that some schmuck had come down looking for "A. Appleby" followed by their hearty laughter at my expense. But to my pleasant surprise, the man beams and says that he is A. Appleby. I get my package and the application is complete. Close call!

Your Favorite Jerk

P.S.
For those who are sheltered or otherwise slow, the H in H. Jablome is quite often Haywood.

Brio good

2006-11-02T17:03:00.000-05:00

I had my first taste of Brio, an Italian chinotto soft drink, yesterday. It's hard to describe the taste of this beverage because it had a taste unlike anything I've ever encountered before. The closest thing I can compare it to would be a mixture of Coke and a Chinese sweet made from sugar-soaked olives. At first I thought the drink was repulsive. But when trying a new food or beverage, my rule of thumb is to always try at least three bites or sips before I deliver my final judgment. This rule has helped me avoid rash dismissal of such delectables as sushi, fried squid, and kim chi. Last night it helped me again. After three sips of Brio, I fell in love with it! Brio is like the slow, ugly kid who's so different from every other kid in class that you just can't help but adore--consider Ralph Wiggum, for instance. If you get a chance, order a can of Brio to go with your next pizza. The Italians have a good thing going with that combo. I'm surprised it took me this long to find out.

Your Favorite Jerk

Double life

2006-10-30T18:42:00.000-05:00

I lead a double life. By day I'm a graduate student, working quietly on a project that only interests a few hundred people in my narrow field of study. But by night I'm a superhero with unfathomable powers, waiting to save the world; I'm a double agent, working to bring down a nefarious group of international spies using inprobable tactics and a colourful array of wigs; and I'm a bitchy, self-loving supermodel selecting America's next top model. Did I mention I do all of that from the comfort of my couch? Yes, I admit I'm a television junkie. I watch television without pity and I love it. There used to be a time when I was ashamed of this antisocial behaviour, but I've long outgrown that self-loathing phase of my life. I have now come to unabashedly embrace the sedantary lifestyle: sweatpants, freshly baked Pilsbury chocolate chip cookies, hot chocolate with marshmellows, and a virgin episode of Heroes to share with the perfect company is my favorite recipe for a winter evening. Goodbye Daylight Saving Time; hello Prime Time!

Your Favorite Jerk

Maybe I've got the mono

2006-10-30T01:03:00.000-05:00

I've been sleeping a lot lately. Maybe I've got the mono. Or maybe I'm just lazy. Sleep: the best vacation money can't buy.

Your Favorite Jerk

It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!!!

2006-10-25T02:12:00.000-04:00

It's 2:00AM and I've spent the entire day making figures. Suddenly, I see this video and my day is great :) A toast to the little things in life.

Your Favorite Jerk

A cut above

2006-10-19T16:31:00.000-04:00

I finally managed to get a decent haircut this week. Apparently, the use of electric clippers is entirely optional; note to self: ask for a scissor trim from now on. Now I feel cheated that I wasn't made aware of this option before. Come to think of it, when I used to get my hair cut in Chinatown, there were no options. I was seated, shorn nearly to the scalp with electric clippers and shown the door five minutes later. Some things are worth spending an extra few dollars for. A decent haircut that doesn't take a month to "sort itself out" is one of those.

Your Favorite Jerk

P.S.

I read this yesterday, and couldn't help but laugh. Now that I read it again, it isn't quite as funny, but for those who still remember highschool chemistry, this might elicit a chuckle:

Jimmy was a chemist's son
but Jimmy is no more
What Jimmy thought was H₂O
Was H₂SO₄

龍頭蛇尾

2006-10-10T18:40:00.000-04:00

Since childhood I've been afflicted by a disease so common that the Chinese have a special adjective to describe the afflicted: 龍頭蛇尾 (lóng tóu shé wěi), a chimera with the the head of a dragon but the tail of a snake. This satirical creature impresses with the splendor and majesty of the dragon but invariably disappoints when its much meeker tail is exposed. This is an apt and poetic description of someone with great initial passion but no appreciable follow-through. Sadly, it's also a pretty good description of me, and the piano in my parents' apartment that serves as an expensive decorative piece is testament to that. As I embark on a difficult (and hopefully long) journey to learn to play the guitar, I hope I can tone down the initial excitement and crank up the stick-to-it-tiveness. I will try to be less like a dragon with a snake's tail and more like a possum with the body of an armadillo. Less poetic, I'm sure, but perhaps more pragmatic.

Your Favorite Jerk

Happy Thanksgiving!

2006-10-09T16:22:00.000-04:00

Tomlin just reminded me that two Thanksgivings ago, we went to see Explosions in the Sky. It has been 730 days since then, and in each one of them there is a countless number of things to be thankful for. Have a safe and pleasant Thanksgiving everyone.

Your Favorite Jerk

Air Farce

2006-10-05T17:50:00.000-04:00

I went to a live taping of the Royal Canadian Air Farce last night at CBC's 10th floor studio on John St. This was the second live taping of a television show I've attended. I went to my first one--a taping of Jeopardy in Culver City, CA--three years ago, but missed the legendary Ken Jennings by mere weeks. I still wonder what could have been had I actually witnessed Jeopardy history being made in person. But last night, I witnessed another historical television moment of sorts: I saw the first ever taping of a Canadian sketch show in high-definition. I know this isn't something one tells posterity in old age, but it's something to hang on to, no? Alright, you win; it's not, but I still had a great time :)

Your Favorite Jerk

Zanta!!!

2006-10-03T14:25:00.000-04:00

This incredible revelation will have little impact on those who aren't well-acquainted with the TTC, but for all of us TTC riders, you'll be happy to know that Zanta (aka the shirtless man who wears a Santa Clause hat while doing pushups and saying "Yes yes yes yes yes!!!!") has a fan-page and website dedicated to his exploits! Sadly, it now appears that Zanta has been banned from all TTC vehicles, Yonge/Dundas Square, Nathan Philips Square, and the area from College to King and Yonge to Spadina. For more Zanta news, videos and pictures, including court documents related to his parole and subsequent banning from many Toronto landmarks, go to http://www.torontozanta.ca. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Yes yes yes yes yes!

Your Favorite Jerk

Lemon coke

2006-09-24T22:55:00.000-04:00

Recently, I've discovered the ultimate rainy afternoon drink to accompany a good novel: Chinese Neocitran, otherwise known as warm Coke with a slice of lemon. I empty a can of Coke into my oversized mug, add a squeeze of lemon juice, and zap the entire concoction in the microwave for 3 minutes. The acidity of the lemon juice works in conjuction with the acetic acid already present in Coke to wash away toxins that coat my esophagus and intestinal linings. Along the way, they also strip away a layer of dead cells lining the digestive system, stimulating regrowth and regeneration. This simple homebrew treatment is a far more effective detox solution than any water fast or colonic irrigation hokum all the new-age cons seem to be peddling these days. I'm doing my PhD in Medical Genetics, so I know what I'm talking about: warm Coke and lemons, it'll clean up your insides real good.

Your Favorite Jerk

Being funny

2006-09-22T01:54:00.000-04:00

"Being funny is a means of avoiding scrutiny. It's a deeply concealing activity that invites attention while simultaneously failing to offer any detailed account of oneself. The reason humor is so popular today is that it provides the comfort of intimacy without the horror of actually being intimate."
-Andrew Stott in Comedy

Very true.

Pictures

2006-09-21T23:01:00.000-04:00

Some pictures from the trip to Ottawa and Montreal are finally up on Flickr. It was a lovely trip and a great way to cap off the summer.

Your Favorite Jerk

Requiem for the fair

2006-09-05T15:55:00.000-04:00

Amidst all the relaxing this long weekend, I forgot to write a small blurb about my trip to the CNE last Thursday. Tiff and I got there around dinner time to take advantage of the reduced evening admission prices. The fairgrounds were not crowded, and the weeknight atmosphere was subdued as expected. The last time I went to the CNE was in 1997 when I was an awkward, lanky 15 year-old spending his first summer away from home. The CNE hasn't changed much since then, but I have. The older I get, the less interesting I find fairs like the CNE and its Vancouver counterpart, the PNE. Maybe it's because I don't covet oversized stuffed animals at the midway the way I used to--although, I did win a nice lion for Tiffy at the midway by beating out a bunch of kids who had terrible hand-eye coordination. But the more likely explanation is the decline of the fair relative to other venues. Years ago, the fair was where you went to check out new technology and see and buy products from around the world that were accessible only once a year. But today, there is nothing at the CNE that you can't find at Square One or Pac Mall. In fact, the only new thing I saw at the CNE this year was a jacuzzi system with built-in speakers, blasting 50 Cent--and that's hardly worth the price of admission.

Your Favorite Jerk

The rewrite process

2006-08-29T14:56:00.000-04:00

There is nothing more agonizing than sitting through a group rewrite of your own work. While the end result is undoubtedly better than the original, the process itself is both painful and heart wrenching. The key to surviving such a traumatizing experience is to check your ego at the door. Realize that while it can be devasting to see a paragraph that you tweaked and molded for hours disappear into the ether with the swift press of a button, it is necessary for the cohesion of the work. If nothing else, you must understand that verbosity is a hindrance rather than an expedient to good writing.

Now replace every instance of 'you' and 'your' with 'I' and 'my', and you'll have an idea of what I did from 6pm to 1:30am on Monday night. The paper is looking really good though. So it looks like I can go to Montreal with little academic baggage :)

Your Favorite Jerk

Grrr

2006-08-28T15:35:00.000-04:00

I feel like a hamster running on its wheel. Constantly moving but not getting anywhere. What the heck am I even running towards? Who am I running for? Bullocks to all this! Seriously. I'm going to open up that ice cream I've been saving up for after the project's complete. Screw waiting. I'm going to enjoy it.

Looking ahead

2006-08-26T17:50:00.000-04:00

This week has just flown by. Time flies when you're in the lab 10-11 hours a day, eh? Next week, when this blasted paper is submitted and I'm free from the constant burden of work, I'm going to relax. I'm going to sleep in. I'm going to make slow cooked soup with that ox tail I bought weeks ago. I'm going to watch all those DVDs I've rented. I'm going to read all those books I've been meaning to read. I'm going to write letters to people I've lost touch with. I'm going to eat chocolate until I puke. And I'm going to give Tiffy all the hugs I missed this week.

But for now, I'm going to figure out some Pearson Coefficients for my data. Ciao.

Your Favorite Jerk

I done lost my mind!

2006-08-24T21:16:00.000-04:00

I just spent the last five minutes staring at my screen while humming the Transformers theme song instead of finishing off my work so I can get home before midnight. I don't actually know the words to the song after "robots in disguise" because I grew up watching the show in Shanghai where the episodes were dubbed in Mandarin. Believe it or not, the Chinese title of the show was Bian Xing Jin Gang, which when literally translated means Shape Shifting King Kong--seriously.

Your Favorite Jerk

PS
I found a pleasant surprise on my phone today :)

Checkout etiquette

2006-08-23T23:56:00.000-04:00

Twice this week, I've been the victim of checkout line boors. On Saturday, Tiff and I stood in line behind a man who paid for a pair of skates and a hockey stick using three stacks of Canadian Tire Money in 10 cent denominations. Now, anyone who can collect enough 10 cent CTM to purchase hockey equipment obviously has commendable patience, and I don't want to belittle that virtue. But I don't have such enviable patience, and it's more than a little unfair of him to tax my admittedly meager forbearance to satisfy his own ends. Besides being inconsiderate, holding up a long line just so you can get rid of some play-money is just ig'nant.

Today, I waited in line at Dominion for a man and his partner to unload their entire shopping cart onto the express checkout counter. What part of 12-item express is so difficult to understand? Even by elementary school maths, most people can surmise that a full shopping cart contains at least 12 items. I'm not asking you to estimate the number of jellybeans in a jar to win a prize at the fair here--just look at your full cart and tell me if it has more or fewer than 12 items. You don't win a prize if you get it right, but you do look like a jerk if you don't.

End rant.

Your Favorite Jerk

Je veux et j'exige!!!

2006-08-22T13:07:00.000-04:00

Okay, maybe I don't exige, but I most definitely veux this Doraemon webcam. I think he would make a lovely friend for the bunny and the moose, all the while secretly filming them as they make a fool of themselves. The question now is if I trust a company in HK to deliver this to me. Decisions, decisions...

Your Favorite Jerk

Wandering

2006-08-21T18:19:00.000-04:00

I finished work at 11 last night and went to Fred's for a quick beer to wind down the night. As we talked about our aversions and aspirations, I realized that I'm wandering again. A few months ago, my path was clear and defined: study hard to pass the re-class exam. But now that I'm actually in the PhD program, the same demons that used to haunt me have returned to tease, prod, and taunt me, reminding me of how bored and unfocused I am. I feel like I'm stuck in my own desert, trying half-heartily to reach the promised land. Everywhere I turn, I see unforgiving giants and land that devours. They keep me from reaching that which was promised to me even before my conception, yet I can do nothing more than acknowledge the absurdity of this tragedy. When will I have the courage, determination, and faith to vanquish these giants? Who are your giants, and do you have the same question as me? Let's talk.

David

File under fond memories

2006-08-19T23:59:00.000-04:00

Today was a good day.

David

Zoom zoom

2006-08-11T17:58:00.000-04:00

I got a chance to drive a Mazda 3 last night using my Zipcar membership, and I must say I'm impressed with the way it handled. For a car with a price tag like the 3 to go around bends on the Gardener without any hint of floating is quite remarkable indeed. Or maybe it just felt tight around the corners because the last three cars I drove were Chevys and Chryslers--and one of them was a minivan. It's all relative, I suppose.

Your Favorite Jerk

Pithy movie reviews

2006-08-10T10:10:00.000-04:00

I recently signed up with Zip.ca for unlimited DVDs, so I anticipate a movie binge coming. In an effort to share my admittedly unimportant opinion, I will use this humble blog to offer pithy reviews of all the movies I watch. Watch this space for suggestions on movies to watch and movies avoid.

Little Miss Sunshine (5/5)
Brilliant. This movie is without a doubt the best I've seen all year. Don't read the reviews or synopsis because they will fail to convince you to see it. I know I wouldn't have gone if the tickets weren't free, but I'm very glad I did. I cried in sorrow when the most likeable character died mid way through the film, and just moments later I cried even harder in laughter as the family attempted to abscond with his body in their malfunctioning VW Omnibus. Truly a gem that held my attention for the whole two hours.

Flowers of Shanghai (1/5)
Garbage. Set in late 19th century Shanghai, this movie paints a picture of life in the upper crust brothels of that era. Like many other Tony Leung Chiu-Wai movies, this one is a bore from beginning till end. The critics, of course, love it for the same reason hardcore chocolate aficionados love 99% dark chocolate even though it tastes like chalk: it guarantees that they can voice an opinion contrary to the popular one, elevating them above the masses. For the rest of us, this movie is slow-torture. Worse still, all the dialogue is in Shanghainese, but many of the actors are from HK. Listening to native Cantonese speakers struggle through their lines in a vastly different tongue is terribly grating. For those who understand Shanghainese, Flowers of Shanghai is best watched with the English subtitles on and the audio off.

V for Vendetta (2/5)
Trash. This was a great movie to try out my new THX-certified 5.1 surround sound system, but the same could probably be said about Battlefield Earth. While it may be true that one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter, even Che Guevara would have been difficult to like if he spoke with the same pretentious verbosity as the protagonist of this movie. Save yourself the time and money and go watch something else. If you must watch a masked man dispatch hapless underlings, try Zorro--at least Antonio Banderas can keep contrived alliterations to a minimum.

Your Favorite Jerk

My favorite movie scene

2006-08-07T14:58:00.000-04:00

The opening cooking scene from Eat Drink Man Woman is my favorite movie scene. If you can watch this and not get hungry, you need to get checked out for worms or something even more sinister. That knifework is insane.

Enjoy!

Your Favorite Jerk

I think I'm coming down with something

2006-08-05T01:22:00.000-04:00

Damn.

One remote to rule them all

2006-08-03T17:02:00.000-04:00

"Do you have price-match on this remote," I asked the Futureshop salesperson innocently, keeping all manner of premeditated mischief carefully hidden behind a seemingly uninformed facade. Unbeknownest to the salesperson, I had in my pocket a printout from Dell.ca that would make him and his manager rue the day some two-bit marketing hack at Futureshop HQ decided to roll out their foolhardy policy to price-match all competitors' advertised prices. "Of course, we do, sir!" he replied cheerfully, confident that whatever price difference there was between his store and that of his competitor would be so neglible relative to the profit he would make from the sale that the he would glad me throw me a bone with the price-match. But when he saw the $170 price difference his confident manner quickly abandoned him, and in its place came a sense of fear.

Sensing that the tide had turned against him, the salesperson, though still friendly, began to deliver a set-play script about how impossible it would be for him to fulfill this price-match. The piece he delivered was brilliant in its simplicity: the price difference was too great and Dell's price was below even Futureshop's at-cost price. A lesser man may have walked out at that point. Indeed I too would have walked away from the store dejected had I not been motivated by the beauty of the Harmony 880 universal remote, a remote so powerful that to call it a remote would be an affront and insult to its 3-inch colour LCD display. I stood my ground and insisted, in the most cordial way possible, that he call his manager. Seeing that I had called his bluff, the salesperson folded, rang up purchase, and congratulated me on an "awesome deal".

And how is the Harmony 880, you ask? In a word: magnificent. Come by some time, and I'll show it to you. But like George Bluth Sr likes to say, NO TOUCHING!

Your Favorite Jerk

Welcome Fred :)

2006-07-29T17:06:00.000-04:00

Two months after helping me move into the Maples, Fred moved into the complex himself this morning. I guess he can be my proxy-Tomlin for a couple years until his nomad bug gives him a bite and he's off to see the world. Welcome to the nicer side of the Maples, Fred!

It was a bit embarrasing arriving to help him move a bit later than planned this morning. I went to bed late last night and tossed and turned a long while before falling asleep. Getting out of bed was a bit of a chore this morning because of the lack of sleep, but my mind has never been clearer. The things I didn't understand last night are crystal clear now. I've just got to let things go sometimes--can't win everything, and some battles aren't worth fighting. Pick your battles, I always say.

Your Favorite Jerk

PVR: changing the way I watch TV

2006-07-27T23:44:00.000-04:00

When I moved in two months ago, I hadn't planned on getting cable installed at all. But alas, after reading about the opportunity to get a free PVR for two years, I succombed and now I am back in the grasp of cable television. How I managed to get a free PVR from Ted Rogers is a long and convuluted story, whose details are too boring and insignificant for us to dwell on. Suffice it to say, I had to do some smooth talking...and purchase a used satelite receiver from two very friendly gentlemen on Craigslist--like I said, very boring stuff.

Anyways, this new PVR has changed the way I watch television. Instead of aimlessly channel surfing for something tolerable to entertain me, I now select the shows I want to watch in advance and the machine automatically stores in on its harddrive. Since getting this machine, I haven't watched a single commercial; I just press fast-forward three times and I've banked two and a half minutes--time I can use doing something more useful, like reading papers...or not reading papers.

Yesterday, I came home to three hours of pre-recorded Frasier, a show I used to watch with some frequency. But rather than being entertained, I was saddened to find the reruns uninteresting, a rehash of old jokes and misadventures. It is perhaps an interesting reflection of my current mood: bored and unhappy about an uninteresting rehash of problems I thought had been solved and complaints I thought had been addressed. Too bad life doesn't have a fast-forward button.

Your Favorite Jerk

A brief update

2006-07-19T17:11:00.000-04:00

I apologize for the lack of posts lately; I've been busy catching up on sleep after my three week vacation. The bulk of my three weeks was spent driving around in a minivan in search of furniture for my new place. When Tiffy and I get all the pictures up on the walls, I will try to post some pictures of what the place looks like--I think you'll be quite pleased with the final product. While it's no Extreme Makeover with Ty Pennington, it's certainly quite comfortable for a student like me.

More later.

Your Favorite Jerk

Back from cruisin'

2006-07-04T12:18:00.000-04:00

I spent the last five days aboard a floating buffet in the Gulf of Mexico, and I've returned with an extra 10lbs around the waist. The weather was quite pleasant for the most part, but the heat in Mexico was unbearable. I had sweat pouring down my face the whole time I was in Playa Del Carmen--they don't even build washrooms there because you can just sweat the urine right out like some sort of ancient Mayan detox ritual. On the plus side, Coronas were very cheap, and since we were told to avoid drinking Mexican water, I downed mostly Coronas at 20 pesos a pop.

Back aboard the ship, I enjoyed the late night buffets even as the waves buffeted our ship--sorry, I've wanted to write that sentence ever since I saw it used as an example for the dual-meaning word 'buffet' while studying for the GRE but never had a chance to until now.

In short, I had a great time on the cruise, spending time with my folks and winning big at the Casino--back to back Blackjacks, baby! I'll write more when I have some more time, but I'll be away the next four days at my uncle's cottage, fishing...and paper writing (boo!).

Your Favorite Jerk

P.S.
Tiffy had nothing to worry about. The folks get along fine with her, and they marvel fondly at her ability to polish off large bowls of soup :)

An epiphany on the Bloor-Danforth line

2006-06-19T10:57:00.000-04:00

Normally, I bring my iPod along for the subway ride back from Kipling because I find the music helps drown out the sounds of the train and puts me to sleep. But I forgot to bring my iPod this Saturday, and left to its own devices, free of muzak marinade, my mind started to wander and I began a process of self evaluation. Somewhere between Keele and Landsdowne I had an epiphany. I realized that the fatigue I wrote about in my last post had started building up around the time of my move. It was around the end of May that I started feeling tired--tired of pleading, waiting, adjusting, and conceding. My pleading, it seemed, always fell on deaf ears, and I was left to wait, adjust, and eventually concede. The latter three, being silent, were rarely acknowledged; but the former, the pleading, was always received, discarded and filed away under the "demanding" heading. In the end, all parties involved became tired and guilt-ridden.

The solution is simple: it is easier to wear slippers than it is to carpet the whole world. It begins with me. From now on, I will not plead for changes to plans that are inmutable and fixed, and I will not make quiet sacrifices that were never asked of me in the first place.

David

Screw it

2006-06-15T23:38:00.000-04:00

This is where I scream into a bag about all the little things that get me really annoyed and go to bed. I'm tired in more ways than one.

Weekend at UWO

2006-06-12T17:04:00.000-04:00

I spent the weekend at UWO to attend a conference for Let's Talk Science, the program that sent me to judge a science fair last year. This year I am the new coordinator for the biotechnology program at the UofT, and the objective of this conference was to give me a clearer idea of challenges and goals of the program. For three days, representatives from almost all the big Canadian universities got together to talk about science outreach and to design activities to get kids excited about science. And it is without any hint of sarcasm or irony that I tell you that I had an absolute blast!

Quite often, the long hours I spend in front my computer crunching numbers and writing reports take the fun out of the science I do. Some days my work feels no different than any other boring desk job, and that is quite truly a terribly draining and depressing feeling. But spending time with other grad students, building model rockets and assaying for amylase activity by spitting into vials of colourful liquids is an excellent reminder that science really is a lot of fun. I've been quite blessed to be able to do something I love--late nights churning out committee meeting reports not withstanding--and I'm glad I've been given this opportunity to spark an interest in science among kids. But if I see another "Three States of Water" exhibit, like the one I saw last year, I will mock the child who made it--mockery is a part of the scientific process, just ask any grad student after his/her re-class or qualifying exam.

Your Favorite Jerk

Anticlimactic

2006-06-05T10:20:00.000-04:00

I went down to the waterfront yesterday to have a little quiet time to myself. Back in Vancouver, I used to sit under "my" tree on Burnaby Mountain when I wanted to think and reflect. Sitting under that tree, I could tune out the rest of the world and simply get lost in my own place. I haven't found a place quite like that here in Toronto yet; this city has far too many people with precious few trees. The closest place I've found so far is the thin strip of green lining the waterfront where the Harbour Cruises operate.

It has been a while since I last visited the waterfront, and I had hoped that it would be the same as last summer. But alas, the place is overrun with all species of rag weed, and not very much like last summer at all. The whole trip was rather anticlimactic, hardly worth the hour long round-trip walk, which itself seemed longer than last summer. In fact, these past few weeks have all been rather anticlimactic. With all the stress buildup before the re-class exam, I focused too much on the all the fun I thought I would be having after the exam. I should have realized this earlier and toned down the wishful thinking and pining. As a matter of fact, I should tone down these things as a rule anyways.

David

Baby steps

2006-06-04T09:56:00.000-04:00

I spent the last week settling in to my new place. The transition from dorm living to apartment living has so far proved more challenging than a mere change of address. The logistics of starting a "household", though a welcome challenge, can at times be rather taxing. Everyday I add to the list of domestic tools and necessities that I never knew I needed before. In fact, half of the items on that list are descriptions of the item for lack of a name--for example: Item (6) That thing you use to poke a hole in a can...with a bent triangular pointy thing on one end and a rounded-cornered semi-rectangular thing on the other. Try asking for that in Chinatown; like I said, sometimes the challenge can be taxing.

But despite the small bumps and hurdles on the road to independence, I have been making progress. This past Thursday I cooked my own meal, a three course affair with eggs, vegetables, and (this one I'm not so proud of) pam-seared SPAM. A small baby step perhaps, but a step nonetheless.

I'll keep you updated on the status of my metamorphosis from incompetent "child" to master housekeeper. But don't hold your breath; this could take a while.

Your Favorite Jerk

Weekend of moving

2006-05-30T10:37:00.000-04:00

The Chestnut era officially came to an end this past weekend when I moved all my belongings to my new home near Yonge and College. I hadn't anticipated a long move since I don't own any furniture, but I should have remembered what my old supervisor used to say about project timeline estimation: figure out how long you think it'll take, then triple it. The actual process of moving took well over 6 hours and required 7 trips in HM's car with Tiffy and Fred, whose physical strength is truly amazing. A heartfelt thank you to all of you!

I don't have many pictures of the new place yet, but right now there isn't much to see anyway because it's still very sparsely furnished. When the dust settles, I'll post another update.

Your Favorite Jerk

I miss Mr. Rogers

2006-05-25T01:09:00.000-04:00

If you have six minutes of free time, go watch this video of Mr. Rogers in front of a senate committee in 1969, arguing for the continued funding of PBS. I've never seen a man make a $20 million sale with such calm and articulate speech. I often wonder what I want to do with my life and who I want to be when I "grow up". Having watched this video, I can safely say that in an ideal world, I would like to find a job that can give me the same passion and joy that Mr. Rogers' job gave him. Better start learning how to make puppets.

Your Favorite Jerk

The perks of being a lonely diner

2006-05-24T17:08:00.000-04:00

It's that time of the year again. My meal plan is finished, and I'm left to fend for myself, a lonely man in a big city. Okay, it's actually not so bad. In fact, it's a bit of a boon for my tastebuds because I can eat whatever I want whenever I want. Last night I had an odd craving for fish congee, but when I sat down to order I developed a sudden hunger for fried chicken as well. This apparent dilema gave me pause for a moment, but I quickly realized to my delight that since I was dining alone, I was under no obligation to the tastes and fancies of others. I ordered both the congee and a deep-fried chicken leg, and the resulting meal really hit the spot!

This morning, while cruising the continental breakfast buffet, I had another epicurean epiphany. In hindsight, it was quite inevitable; I love Lucky Charms cereal and orange sorbet, so why not eat them together? Let me tell you, Lucky-charms-orange-sorbet is a product that's just begging to be sold. I'd eat it by the carton.

It looks like tonight I'll be going lone-wolf yet again. Burrito boys, perhaps? Reasonably-priced eateries beware! Here I come!

Your Favorite Jerk

Trip to IKEA

2006-05-20T17:19:00.000-04:00

I'm moving to my new place in about a week, and today I decided to go furniture browsing with Tiffy at IKEA. Everytime I drop her off at Kipling station, I walk past signs pointing to a free IKEA shuttle. I've always imagined that this shuttle would be a shiny, white bus with conservative styling, similar to a large Volvo. Imagine my surprise when the real "shuttle" arrived and I saw that it was a modified Ford pickup truck with a cracked windshield, driven by a Chinese man with thick gloves and a large puffy vest. There were no IKEA signage anywhere on this vehicle, an absence I suspect was insisted upon by IKEA's lawyers to reduce company liability. The seats consisted of two wooden benches and a small folding chair anchored to the flatbed of the truck by four screws. I suspect this is the sort of bus people use to transport migrant workers along the Mexicali border. In short, the quick trip from the station to the store was eye-opening, but uncomfortable.

This whole experience has forced me to re-evaluate my former admiration for the Swedish furniture giant. But I suppose their shady shuttle buses shouldn't really surprise me in light of a recent article in the Economist that claims the whole IKEA operation is a huge accounting scam. Apparently IKEA is a owned by a tax-free Dutch "charity" devoted to advancing interior design. You can't make this stuff like this up if you tried. That a Swedish store, owned by a Dutch charity, can induce people to drive for miles for a chance to buy overpriced, flimsy, unassembled(!!!) furniture is a testament to Swedish genius. Incidentally, their green-herb salmon (pictured) is a delectable treat.

Your Favorite Jerk

P.S.
That picture was taken with my new phone :)

Moutard can wait

2006-05-14T22:50:00.000-04:00

My eyes catch a glimpse of the clock as it quietly passes 7:30PM. My friends have already started their monthly mussel and beer night at Smokeless Joe's, and I'm at least an hour and half away from the festivities. But I'm in no hurry. Tonight I'm having dinner with my aunt in Scarborough, and I listen intently as she recounts her life story to me while I finish my third bowl of her delicious wintermelon soup. It's a very relaxing evening and a welcome change from the hectic pace of things these past months. In the dimly lit dining room, I feel as if I'm getting to know her for the first time in my life. There is something unspoken about our conversation that suggests an easiness which I don't often feel with my elders--a symptom of being Chinese, I suppose.

I admire my aunt tremendously. She is one of the most kind-hearted, supportive, and caring person I know. But above all, her faith in God is so strong that she can see His work in even the smallest, seemingly insignificant thing. Listening to her recount the many tough choices she has had to make in her life to serve God before all else, including forgoing marriage, only makes me admire her even more. "God always provides," she tells me; and I believe her.

David

P.S.
I passed my re-class exam on Thursday, and I'm officially a PhD student now!

P.P.S.
I really really miss my Mom.

The following happens between 2:00pm and 3:00pm

2006-05-10T14:15:00.000-04:00

24 hours to go before the big committee meeting to determine what I do for the next 6 months or 4 years of my life. If I were a television producer, I would make a show like 24 for grad students, following the 24 hours before a big committee meeting. There will easily be enough nail-biting suspense and Jack-Bauer-like outbursts to fill up 3 whole DVDs. Right now, I'm evaluating the feasibility of faking my own death to avoid the meeting. It worked for Jack Bauer--kinda.

Dee dee dee,
Your Favorite Jerk

2 year anniversary of the blog

2006-05-06T21:23:00.000-04:00

It's been two years since I started writing on this blog. 209 entries later, this blog has turned into a hobby as well as a habit. The past year has been a very eventful one, filled with unanticipated twists and turns. Things looked so different last year when I wrote my one-year blog summary: the things I worried about then would turn out to be irrelevent; the place I wanted to be would turn out to be where I was; and the girl I had a heated argument with at the local Korean BBQ restaurant would turn out to be the one person who would make me happier than I've ever been. As I reflect on the past twelve months, I realize that I have very little control over the myriad outcomes which together make up my life. All I can do is trust in Him, and go along for the ride.

Thanks for reading. I hope you'll be back.

David

sweetness delayed

2006-04-30T15:15:00.000-04:00

green cubes
of joy
clinging
clinging
to the souless plastic
that is the bottom of a cup
discarded by the world
assimea!
sweet jelly
elusively
mocking
me

- david, from the bubble tea drinker's anthology (2006)

Underdog

2006-04-28T20:52:00.000-04:00

I like being the underdog because the underdog's failures are muffled even as his victories are amplified. But there's a fine line between being an underdog and a longshot. When I saw the list of committee members sitting on my reclass exam committee yesterday, I immediately went from being the former to the latter, and with that my outlook for the next two weeks went from cloudy to stormy. It's going to be a fight all the way, folks.

And that brings us to today's inspiration message, curtesy of Logan from Veronica Mars (Tiff made me watch it, and it's not half bad): "Adversity is the diamond dust with which Heaven polishes its jewels."

Your Favorite Jerk

Comeuppance

2006-04-24T23:23:00.000-04:00

I just indulged in a rather guilty pleasure, and I must confess I feel a bit terrible for the giddiness I'm feeling at this moment. Don't worry, it was nothing raunchy or otherwise untoward--just a little something that made me smile, even though a really mature person probably wouldn't have.

My neighbour is a music major, a lover of sound, and apparently a woman full of laughter--loud, high-pitched, constant laughter. Don't get me wrong; I don't dislike her as a person. Every time we've met, she and I have been nothing but cordial with each other, and there is nothing to suggest that she is in any way unpleasant. But I've not been a great fan of her flute playing, music blaring, or irksome laughing at odd hours of the night.

For the most part, I've come to except this arrangement, save for the one night when I had to call her to cut short her game of who-can-laugh-the-loudest with three of her closest friends at 1:30 in the morning. I've always been too afraid to start anything unpleasant with the person living less than four feet away from me by being too confrontational. But secretly, I've always hoped that someone else would tell her to be a bit more considerate of her neighbours on my behalf one day.

It turns out today is that day! Late this evening, I heard a loud knocking on my neighbour's door. Being both curious and timid by nature, I shuffled quietly to my own door and looked out through the peephole to see what all the commotion was about. I soon discovered that it was the don-on-duty wanting a word with her about her noise problem. I've always thought that maybe I'm the one who has been unreasonable and that no one else had a problem with the noise. But I was vindicated when I saw the look of absolute disdain on the don's face as she struggled to be heard over the music with a good five minutes of door banging.

I must admit that it was quite satisfying to witness (from the safety of my own room) the don's giving my neighour a little comeuppance for creating such a ruckus during quiet hours. Am I childish and immature for this episode of schadenfreud? Absolutely. Am I unreasonable for thinking that my neighbour is too loud? Apparently not :-) I love the sweet smell of vindication wafting in the air tonight.

Your Favorite Jerk

Not quite home alone

2006-04-23T23:09:00.000-04:00

Rainy weekends tend to bring out the nostalgia-seeking side of me, especially when I'm faced with looming deadlines and stressful assignments. My all-time favorite nostalgic film is, without a doubt, the 1990 holiday classic Home Alone, starring future Michael Jackson confidant Macaulay Culkin. I came to Canada in April of that year, and Home Alone was my first real introduction to the North American celebration of Christmas.

It was nice to share an afternoon with Tiffy, watching this classic. But the real highlight of the day was our discovery of the old NES Home Alone game, which I must admit is very addictive. The object of the game is to run around the house for 20 minutes without getting caught by bitmap representations of Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern (Harry and Marv from the movie). It may sound like a simple concept, but the game is far from easy. Despite several viliant tag-team efforts by the two of us, the longest amount of time we were able to elude the crooks was under three minutes. We had better luck playing NES Jeopardy...okay, actually it was Junior Jeopardy because the real thing was too hard for us--pathetic, I know.

Your Favorite Jerk

Chalk full of flavor

2006-04-15T17:22:00.000-04:00

I finally had a chance to break open the 99% Lindt dark chococlate I got last week, and now I'm ready to give you my uneducated and uncultured review of this bitter confection.

Before I cracked the seal on this chocolate bar, I carefully read the conseil de dégustation and was fully prepared for--nay, eagerly anticipating--a strong hit of bitterness followed by an explosion of cocoa flavor before being lavished by a fruity bouquette to round off this gastronomical journey of indescribable delights. My conclusion after eating two pieces of the chocolate is that I want whatever the Lindt marketing guys were smoking when they wrote that guide. Maybe I just have a very unsophisticated palette, but the only real thing I could taste from this chalk-like chocolate was bitterness.

Actually I just had another piece and this time I could really feel the cocoa kick near the end. It seems the trick is to let the melted chocolate linger a bit in your mouth before swallowing it all; it's like the sugary plum treat you get after you down a bowl of Chinese medicine. So maybe it's not so much a case of too much of a good thing being bad, but just that it takes time to learn to appreciate good things. It's still bitter as heck though. Seriously.

Your Favorite Jerk

Older and wiser?

2006-04-13T15:09:00.000-04:00

Thanks for all the birthday wishes earlier in the week! My departmental student seminar--the one where all the Masters students give a talk summarizing their work to all the other students and professors in the department--was scheduled for the afternoon of my birthday, so needless to say, I didn't get out of bed in a celebratory mood. Thankfully, the talk went exceptionally well (one of the reviewers said I gave the clearest talk in the history of the seminars) and I handled most of the questions with enough confidence to walk out of the room feeling pretty relieved. Thanks for all the prayers and well-wishes from everyone before the talk.

Afterwards, Tiff gave me two awesome gifts: I got a t-shirt she made with Brick (Steve Carrell) from Anchorman saying "Loud noises!!!", and a set of personalized stationery graced by a hand-drawn picture of Bunchkin on every page. To make the day even sweeter, I got a steak dinner with escargot and calamari. I'm ashamed to admit that Tiff totally out ate me, but in my defense I was wearing some exceptionally tight pants. Had I been wearing my sweatpants, the outcome would have undoubtedly been in my favour. Maybe I'll take that lesson to heart next year, when I'm older and wiser.

Your Favorite Jerk

Prose before hos

2006-04-08T19:33:00.000-04:00

Tiff will probably blog more about this on her site later, but here are some pictures of her newly discovered hobby, t-shirt painting. I don't know much about the process except that it involves exacto knives, paint brushes, and ironing equipment. But I do know that I'm now the owner of a beige t-shirt that sports a bust of the Bard and the words 'Prose before hos'. The design is ~~inspired by~~ an exact replica of a shirt we saw on Busted Tees a while back, but truth be told, Tiff did make the stencils and letters herself from scratch. Good job, Tiffy!

Your Favorite Jerk

Lindt

2006-04-05T20:57:00.000-04:00

Vivs sent me this Lindt Excellence 99% Cacao Noirissime from France a week ago, and I just got it in the mail today. Wow! I've seen 80% in Canada but I've yet to encounter a 99% dark chocolate. That is hardcore. I think 99% is the highest amount of cocoa you can stick in a bar without needing written approval from the FDA and maybe even the DEA.

This thing is so hardcore it comes in an airtight jewel case and a strong warning to follow the Conseils de Dégustation (tasting advice) enclosed in the package. The science of tasting this thin 50g bar of chocolate is so precise that it even comes with a graph showing the intensity of various "notes" of the chocolate over the course of the tasting. Not surprisingly in a 99% cocoa chocolate bar, the taste of Cacaoté (or cocoaness, I guess) is the most intense over the long haul. Although, without looking at the graph, I bet you wouldn't have guessed that Acidité would be the initial forerunner.

I think I'll bust this thing open and enjoy it "...avec un café afin de faciliter le développement d'un bouquet d'aromes cacaotés" when I finish my assignments. Let's hope it will be opened in celebration rather than self-commiseration. Merci beaucoup, Vivo!!!!

Your Favorite Jerk

Quotes from real life

2006-04-04T21:58:00.000-04:00

Sometimes real life beats any sitcom. You really can't write this stuff even if you wanted to. Here's a brief snippet about Ted's neighbour. Wow.

Me: maybe she's just moving furniture
Me: you never know
Ted: ahahahahahah....i don't think she names all her furniture johnny ;)

Your Favorite Jerk

It's in my head

2006-04-03T18:20:00.000-04:00

Okay, I'm obsessed with the Office; I know. It's getting to the point now, where I just laugh out loud sporadically during the workday when random quotes from the show pop into my head. Here's a list of some of them:

"In the wild, there is no healthcare. In the wild healthcare is 'Ow, I hurt my leg. I can't run. A lion eats me, and I'm dead.' Well, I'm not dead. I'm the lion. You're dead."
-Dwight

"My maternal grandfather is the toughest man I know. In World War Two, he killed twenty men and then spent the rest of the war in an Allied prison camp."
-Dwight

"I am both a night owl and an early bird. So I am wise... and I have worms."
-Michael

"Presents are the best way to show someone how much you care. It is like this tangible thing that you can point to and say, 'Hey, man, I love you this many dollars worth.'"
-Michael

"One time we were out and we met this set of twins and Packer told them that we were brothers and so you know, one thing led to another and we brought them back to the hotel and then Packer...did both of them. It was awesome."
-Michael

"You know what, Toby, when the son of the deposed king of Nigeria e-mails you directly, asking for help -- you help! His father ran the freakin' country, OK?"
-Michael

"Abraham Lincoln once said, 'If you're a racist, I will attack you with the North,' and these are the principles I carry with me in the workplace."
-Michael

"Toby's with human resources, so, technically he's corporate, so he's really not a part of our family. Also, he's divorced, so he's really not a part of his family."
-Michael

"Is someone making soup?" (this is said when everyone's huddled outside Michael's office trying to figure out who placed a steaming pile of dung under his desk during the night"
-Creed

There are so many others. I think this might be one of the most quotable shows I've ever seen.

Your Favorite Jerk

The Office

2006-04-03T00:19:00.000-04:00

I had a stressful couple of days, but watching the Office and eating steak has really helped relieve some of the stress. Thank You, God for constantly demonstrating your amazing grace and faithfulness through these little signs that you're watching out for me.

David

Waking up to Maury

2006-03-28T17:30:00.000-05:00

Last week I picked up a remote control for my TV. It has been over a year since the 20" APEX TV I bought from Costco stopped responding to its factory remote. I had, at one point, discovered a neat little trick to make the old remote work for a few brief moments: all I had to do was throw it against the ground with some force. But one day I threw it a bit too hard and the flimsy thing fell apart. Since then, I've cut down my TV watching because my two favorite channels, Rogers Sportsnet (channel 22) and the Food Channel (channel 56), are more than 30 manual clicks away from each other. There have been days when I've wanted a replacement so I could take advantage of the free cable service I get, but I've had a hard time parting with twenty dollars for the only replacement model I can find that will work with my brand of television, a yellow SpongeBob SquarePants unit--I kid you not. But it would seem that serendipity has succeeded where determination had failed. While strolling through the local ~~Radio Shack~~ The Source by Circuit City last week, I happened to spot a store-branded remote with an inoffensive design for only 14 bucks. A quick scan of its compatibility list confirmed support for my TV, and I've been using it happily since then.

The reintroduction of a remote control in my life has brought a whole new world of convenience. I can now check the scores and watch the latest Iron Chef reruns in bed before I nod off. More importantly, I have regained the ability to program my TV to wake me up in the morning. Today I awoke to the pleasant cacophony of the Maury Povich show. This morning's show was based on the classic ugly duckling story and featured formerly unattractive people confronting past tormentors with their "new hotness". If you've never been nudged out of your slumber with the words "Uhh uhhhnnnn honey, you can't have none of this now! That's right, this be the new hotness!" I highly recommend you try it. I'm waiting for the "Who's your Daddy" episode, so I can wake up to Maury's solemn "You are not the father" followed by the triumphant cry of "I told you! In yo face beeyaaaaaaatch!" from the newly acquitted father-not-to-be.

All I need now is a George Foreman grill and six pieces of bacon (if you don't know what I'm talking about, talk to me or Tiff so we can introduce you to The Office).

Your Favorite Jerk

Card shopping

2006-03-24T17:30:00.000-05:00

I went to get a birthday card for my Dad and an anniversary card for my folks a couple of days ago. As always, this turned out to be a challenging exercise. For starters, most of the cards in your typical Carlton store are just appallingly ugly. To make matters worse, those few cards that pass the most lenient aesthetics test are almost always marred by either cloyingly sweet text or utter nonsense. The odd card that manages to passes both visual and mental inspection presents the final hurdle: they always look dangerously familiar, making you wonder if you got the same card last year.

This time, I almost made a fatal mistake when I picked a beautifully arranged anniversary card that was addressed to Mom and "Dad". I did a double-take when I saw the quotations around the word 'Dad' but quickly realized that I was browsing under the 'Mother and her husband' anniversary section. Yikes! Imagine Mom and Dad hanging that one out for all to see.

I had really wanted to deliver those cards in person this year, seeing as it's Mom and Dad's Silver Anniversary. But with my schedule in May, I would have a hard time justifying a one week holiday next month. So it looks like I'll just have to celebrate with them when they come out here in June.

Your Favorite Jerk

And so it begins...

2006-03-19T10:14:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow morning at 9:30AM I will present my work at my pre-reclassification committee meeting. If the committee thinks there is enough steam in my project for me to carry on in the PhD program, I'll have another month or so to polish things up for the real reclassification exam in early May. If not, I'll have till the end of the year to write up my MSc thesis and could be done school in about nine months! In a way, I'm relieved to know that the decision is out of my hands now. A few months ago, I was really struggling with the decision to spend 4 more years for a PhD, second guessing myself and wondering what I was doing. But now that I've made my decision to at least take the pre-reclassification step, it's comforting to know that the rest is in God's hands.

David

Rocking

2006-03-15T23:00:00.000-05:00

The bunny and I were a little restless tonight; his restlessness stemming from boredom, mine from anxiety. To combat this terrible state of being we decided to let loose and make a rock video demonstrating Bunchkin's masterful head-banging. Voilà:

Your Favorite Jerk

The wind behind my back

2006-03-15T00:02:00.000-05:00

It's eleven at night and I've just finished a long day at the lab. Now comes the brief ten minute walk south to a warm room, a soothing shower, and some welcome conversation before bed. Tonight the walk home is more brisk than usual because I've got a strong wind at my back, giving me a firm push homeward. I've observed that the winds in this city always seem to blow from the north down to the lake. This peculiar path of the wind coupled with a natural, gentle slope down to the water always makes the walk home a lot easier than the walk to work. Although maybe it might have something to do with my state of mind, too.

Your Favorite Jerk

Moving somewhere

2006-03-09T19:10:00.000-05:00

I'm going to be moving slightly north of my current place of residence in June. Yesterday I went to see it and it seems like a very spacious and clean bachelor at 420 sqft. I think the place I grew up in Shanghai was about 350 sqft and it housed three generations (me, my parents, and my grandma) quite comfortably for many years. Right now, I'm very relieved that I got a place at all and I'm doubly thankful that it's so close to where I work and has all the amenities I had wanted at a reasonable price. Let me know if you can help me move in June; I promise I'll buy a few cases of two-fours to help make it a memorable afternoon!

Elsewhere, I'm a bit stressed about my pre-reclass meeting a week from next Monday. On the bright side, I should get some valuable--albeit direct and possibly critical--feedback on my project, which should paint a clearer picture of where I'll be in the next few years. In any case, I have a one year lease--as well as other..."stuff"--that will bind me to this city for yet a while longer. Let's hope for mild winters and smooth committee meetings.

On a completely unrelated note, I really think I've neglected to build up meaningful friendships with other guys since I've moved to this city. I attribute some part of this negligence to simple laziness and a lack of desire to build strong ties to people in this city last year when I thought my stay here would be very temporary. It was easier just to talk with people I trusted and felt comfortable back home on the phone and on MSN. But lately, I'm starting to feel a sort of isolation here. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that nothing beyond superficial friendships has blossomed here; afterall, you reap what you sow, and in the last year and a half I've sowed very few seeds and sowed them in woefully shallow soil. Maybe I should pick some male-bonding skills, like binge drinking or something equally masculine. On second thought, maybe not :-)

I should probably end off on a less melancholy note, but I think I rather enjoy this bit of auto-psychoanalysis; so please bear with me a little longer while I indulge this whim and talk more about myself to myself to figure out why I've not made any edifying friendships here. You see, it's not that I don't like people; I do. And it's not that I'm callous, antisocial, or insensitive; I'm not, though I will allow that at times my penchant for deadpanning may lead others to think I'm as all three and worse. The real problem is that I find it very difficult to open up to other guys (save for the occasional welcome exception like the Theological Toddler). I find it much harder to talk about my misgivings, my weaknesses, and my failures with other guys than with girls, whose genetic makeup, I find, predisposes them to deal with other people's problems with more grace and empathy. But something tells me this sort of bias isn't entirely healthy. Once in a while, it might be beneficial to hear another guy tell me that he's going through the same problems and is faced with the same difficult choices and decisions. Now all I have to do is find someone in Toronto who'll fit that bill--call now, operators are standing by.

Your Favorite Jerk

These socks were made for trashing

2006-03-06T10:58:00.000-05:00

I can't seem to keep a proper inventory of socks in my drawers for some reason. No matter how careful I am, I keep losing them to attrition by wearing holes in them or losing them in the dryer. As a result, I go to Chinatown every so often to pick up more socks. My favorite sock merchant is a guy on Spadina, who sells really thick, fine quality socks from the back of his van. For a crip fiver, I get three pairs that'll keep me warm all winter. And since he operates from a van with no fixed address, he's always having silly paperwork mixups with the Canadian Revenue Agency, which means he can't collect GST and PST for them. But the "store" hours are a bit dodgy, and sometimes you can go weeks without seeing him hawk his wares.

It so happens that yesterday was an off day for my sock merchant, so I had to go elsewhere to purchase my socks. I regret to inform you that not all socks in Chinatown are create equal. The ones I bought from an old lady on Dundas street looked good at the time, but when I tried to put them on this morning, I noticed my hands were covered with black pigment from the socks. It's like they were coloured with newspaper ink or watered down tar or something equally filthy. I don't think I'll be able to wear them before soaking them in water for about a week. What a waste of five dollars; I should have gotten the Sugar Bear (Can't get enough of that Sugar Crisp) t-shirt instead.

Your Favorite Jerk

This too shall pass

2006-02-25T13:08:00.000-05:00

I read a short story yesterday, and after much paraphrasing, it goes something like this:

One day, a powerful king decided that he wanted to humble one of his exceptionally capable servants by sending him on a wildgoose chase for what the king believed was a nonexistent magical artifact, a ring that could bring despair to a happy man and hope to a sad one. After many months of searching, the servant returned to the king, who believing he had taught his servant a lesson in humility, smiled and asked if he had found what he was sent to retrieve. To his surprise, the servant produced from a velvet purse a silver ring with four words etched across its face. When the king saw the writing on the ring, his smile disappeared and, though he was powerful beyond description and wealthy beyond compare, the king quickly fell into despair. Those four words? "This too shall pass".

I really think I need to have a mental ring like this to chasten me when I can't feel my feet touch the ground, and to encourage me when those same feet are crushed by the burdens I must carry. All things in this life, whether good or bad, shall pass. I realize now that it's important to not dwell on the moment so much; I must not cling in vain to fleeting moments of euphoria nor wallow pitifully in times of despair. In the end, I must focus on that which is not ephemeral, that which was not promised by man, but by God.

Yours humbly,
David

Stall mystery

2006-02-24T16:48:00.000-05:00

Something rather disturbing has just happened to me, and I'm trying to sort things out in my head by putting thought to paper. You'll have to forgive me if my writing appears incoherent. The events of the afternoon have shaken me up a little, and I'm doing the best I can to make sense of it all. I must warn you that this post is not for the squeamish, so anything you read beyond this line will be at your own discretion.

I was answering nature's call this afternon (the first one, not the second) when I notice the guy in the stall next to me start doing a little shake. This is, of course, no big deal because "the shake" is the traditional flourish with which most of us men finish our routines. In fact, I'm inclined to believe that this odd little jig is some sort of evolutionarily favorable mechanism that has helped our ancestors elude predators like the wooly mamoth and the tyranosaurus rex. "The shake" has never caused me to bat an eye, but what this gentleman proceeded to do next caught me by surprise, and I almost had to go home for a new shirt.

Midway through his shake, the man started making noises that sounded like "dwaaaaannnnng bwannnnng dwounnnnng", but with more reverb and nasal pressure. I don't really know how to describe this sound more accurately beyond saying that it resembled a "springy" sound, not unlike something you'd hear on a Saturday morning cartoon (think Warner Brothers). When I heard these odd noises, I came close to emitting some sounds of my own--though mine would have been more easily decipherable, something along the lines of "what the ****, man?". Thankfully, I managed to avoid saying anything to avoid further awkwardness and merely gave the man a quick glance to make sure he was alright. For all I know, the poor fellow might have relieved himself too quickly and the ensuing vacuum in his bladder caused by such a rapid expulsion may have caused his lower body to implode. Stranger things have happened, and I wanted to give the man as much benefit of the doubt as I could reasonably afford.

To my surprise, I saw no sign of a medical emergency. Instead, the gentleman looked me straight in the eye and gave me a firm but quick nod. This gestured frightened me a great deal because now I wasn't sure if I had inadvertently been dragged into some type of duel. Crazy thoughts ran through my head: perhaps this man was brought up in a very territorial culture, and by merely standing in the stall next to him, I had challenged his position in the world, and now I was obligated to engage in a type of...sword fight (pardon the imagery) with him. Talk about a bad way to finish off an afternoon.

Thankfully, the man showed no obvious sign of anger or aggression and casually walked to the sink to finish up. But in hindsight, this whole thing could have turned out to be a lot uglier than it did. Perhaps next time, I will follow the cardinal rule of the men's room, and use the toilet instead of the urinal when the adjacent stall is occupied.

Your Favorite Swordsman

Mrs. Lynde is properly memorable

2006-02-21T10:02:00.000-05:00

There has been some talk lately that the book club may do a series on the ever-so-Canadian Anne of Green Gables shortly in the future. This has me led to reminisce about my brief but unsuccessful encounter with the book two summers ago, when Cindy, delighted that I had enjoyed Salmon Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories, suggested Anne as the next logical modern children's classic to tackle. Sadly, the residents of Green Gables failed to entertain me, and I only managed to read half of the book before moving on to another more interesting one about the untimely passing of a dog.

I don't remember much about Anne anymore, but the severe Mrs. Lynde has a line in the book (I think she may have cribbed it from Jonathon Swift) that I've always liked and found appropriate from time to time: "Blessed are they who expect nothing for they shall not be disappointed". Now, I know, of course, that going through life with such a terribly defeatist motto would be foolish and unnecessarily tragic. But there are moments when I think I should learn to expect a little less to avoid meeting disappointment when lofty expectations unexpectedly fall through.

Okay, enough with my waxing philosophical about silly aphorisms. Here's a practical demonstration of it: I opened my breakfast bag this morning and found not one, but two muffins! See? No expectation but a pleasant (and rather filling) surprise! Now, if I were to expect another round of such generosity tomorrow morning, I'm sure you'd find me a very pouty boy, indeed.

Your Favorite Jerk

To my favorite ballerina:

2006-02-15T23:30:00.000-05:00

Thank you for being my oasis in a desert of tedium.

Yours,
David

Whine

2006-02-10T16:01:00.000-05:00

Okay, I know I've been whining a bit lately about how much work I've got lined up, but this is seriously getting ridiculous. I went over the contract today for the workshop next week, and instead of only having to be there for a couple hours everyday, I'm expected to be there from 8:00AM to 9:00PM every day, including the weekends. And now I find out that I have to give a 40 minute talk three weeks from now. Don't forget, of course, that I'm also taking a course which has promised to assign two more 35 hour projects before the end of this month. GAH!!!!!!!

On the plus side, those of you who know me well know that I post here more often here when I have looming deadlines, so expect to see a lot of me here.

Your Favorite Jerk

P.S.
Please be gentle when you see me in the coming weeks. My inevitable lack of sleep will most certainly reduce my tolerance for snark, whether delivered facetiously or with malice; so please try to tone down your snark levels accordingly to avoid getting back humorless stares. The real me will return shortly, I hope. In the meantime, please bear with my cranky proxy, for whom I apologize in advance.

Pleasant distractions

2006-02-09T22:08:00.000-05:00

I'm stuck in the office with a stack of work to finish and very little by way of distraction to help combat my frustrations, when I come across this awesome Chuck Norris shirt with a picture of my hero delivering a swift roundhouse kick to the head of a deer above a caption which reads, "Chuck Norris doesn't go hunting, he goes killing". Wow!

I still associate Chuck Norris with his Degree anti-perspirant commercials of the early 90s, wherein he does a roundhouse kick at the camera and tells the audience that "the best defense is not to offend." Of course, even as a kid I knew that was a bogus ad: Chuck Norris didn't sweat, and any kid growing up watching a man like Chuck Norris conduct his business could tell you that the real best defense a man can have is an unforgiving roundhouse kick to the face of his opponent.

*Gives frustrations a swift roundhouse kick. HIIIIIIIYAH!*

Your Favorite Jerk

Waning (gadget) lust

2006-02-07T19:10:00.000-05:00

While chatting with Ivan over MSN today about the latest developments in computer hardware, I became aware that lately my gadget lust has been waning. This is a rather remarkable realization because ever since I got my first computer (a 486 DX with a blazing fast 33MHz processor, an unheard of 8Mb of RAM, and a whopping 128Mb harddrive) at the age of 10, I've been wanting something bigger and better every couple of years. But I've had my current computer for over three years now, and I have very little motivation to go look for something faster or more powerful. In fact, over the holidays I went to NCIX in Vancouver to get something for my dad and found the showcase display computer almost repulsive. A few years ago, the sight of a machine with the latest NVidia graphics card, dual CPUs and a terabyte of space might have moved me to save up for an upgrade. But as I stood there staring at that mostrosity of a machine, decked out with transparent panels and neon lights (wth?!?!?), all I could think of was how loud the CPU fan, graphics fan, PSU fan, and two case fans would be in my room. Have I prematurely aged or something? At the age of 23, I really shouldn't be worried about noise. The very thought of my rapidly turning into an impotent old man who complains constantly about noise and technology is enough to keep me up at night. Thankfully, I have been ogling the newest iPod nano, so maybe there is still some virility left in me yet.

Your Favorite Jerk

Lovely weekend

2006-02-06T12:59:00.000-05:00

I hate to open a perfectly good post with a worn cliché, but I'm afraid I will have to bring out the old 'calm before the storm' label to describe my weekend, because it so perfectly conveys my view of it. Before me lies weeks of talks, reports, and a brief but intense TA stint, so this may well have been the last weekend in a long while where I can afford to snuggle up with a good book, a warm blanket, and a comfy pillow without looking at the clock. Was I productive this weekend? Absolutely not; and that's what made it so great :)

Your Favorite Jerk

Babies

2006-01-25T17:37:00.000-05:00

I love babies because when my professors' wives give birth to them my classes get cancelled . Here's to sleeping in tomorrow in lieu of attending my weekly early morning class on protein structures!

Your Favorite Jerk

Power

2006-01-23T22:30:00.000-05:00

To commemorate the one year anniversary of the blackout from last January, I turned off all my lights in my room for a few hours this evening. I turned them back on at around 7:30, the time power came back exactly a year ago today. This time around I didn't do any knitting, but I was a lot warmer.

I might make this lights-off ceremony an annual event from now on.

Your Favorite Jerk

P.S.
CBC is calling a Conservative minority government.

Size does matter

2006-01-19T00:51:00.000-05:00

I had a few hours to kill after dinner this evening, so I went for a stroll in the Eaton Centre down the street from where I live. The last time I was there was during the frenzied holiday shopping season when crazed shoppers jammed every free square foot of space at the mall. This time, however, that sea of humanity has been replaced by a forest of 'Sale' placards outside every store. A healthy love of price reductions has, of course, been deeply ingrained in me through generations of careful Chinese upbringing. Unfortunately, this same Chinese heritage also means that I do not possess the physical dimensions required to take advantage of most of the sales items which were available only in XL and XXL sizes. I guess it pays to be ~~fat~~ amply fleshed out.

Your Favorite Jerk

Those who can't, teach

2006-01-16T15:43:00.000-05:00

After a five week haitus from helping with the ESL class after service, I returned yesterday afternoon to a much more crowded classroom. It's such an encouragement to see new students and volunteers!

For the most part, I find that I'm as much a learner as I am a teacher when I interact with the students. You'd be surprised how difficult it is to explain certain phrases and concepts in Chinese. One especially keen student jots down phrases she hears on soap operas during the week and brings them to class to have them explained to her on Sundays. Some of these are quite shocking, like the phrase "I had Jason attacked!", while others, like "That's ironic" are impossibly difficult to explain in Chinese--Alanis Morisette had to write an entire song to explain that one to me in English, and even then she got it absolutely wrong.

Despite the occasional embarrassing moments when I realize I can't explain every English word or idiom, I encourage everyone with some free time after service to stop by and help out. It's such a rewarding experience to meet interesting people with a desire to learn a new language, while showing them God's love through both short scripture verses and by lending a helping hand. Plus you get to see Ju explain to her students that C-U-P spells Thermos...hehe just kidding Ju, you were great!!!!!

Your Favorite Jerk

My pet rock

2006-01-15T18:32:00.000-05:00

Last night, Tiff and I decided to split a dish of snails at Eon, the neighbourhood Chinese restaurant. The whole exercise of digging snail meat out of the shell with a small wooden stick made the going slow, but I nevertheless found the dish quite tasty. But about 3/4 of the way through the dish, I noticed that one of the snails I had in my mouth was slightly different from the others. For starters, this little freak of nature lacked any opening for the wooden extraction utensil. With a bit more exploration, I noticed that its shell also had a noticeably different texture than the others. Finally, I took the snail out of my mouth and told Tiff that it tasted like a rock. Anyways, to make a long story short (and to save me from further embarrassment), let me just tell you that it really was a rock. In my defense, every single snail was coated in a thick layer of sauce to mask the inherent tastelessness of snails, and this rock, which was shaped deceptively like a snail, at first tasted no different than the other snails. It was an honest mistake. Seriously.

In any case, I washed off the rock in tea, and now I have a pet rock on my desk named Oscar.

Your Favorite Jerk

Fort

2006-01-12T23:05:00.000-05:00

Inspired by the cloyingly sweet images at cuteoverload.com, I've decided to post up this gem of Bunchkin in the midst of building a luxurious fort on his favorite king-sized bed with three deliciously fluffy pillows and an oversized down comforter covered in cozy flannel.

You know, I think I'm going to stop making my bed for a while...for the bunny's sake.

Your Favorite ~~Jerk~~ Sap

This blog is still up

2006-01-10T22:39:00.000-05:00

Just a quick note to remind those who have lost faith in this blog that I am still in business :-)

Your Favorite Jerk

Expensive mistakes and cheap sake

2005-12-29T03:08:00.000-05:00

"Can I check your coat?" the Japanese waitress at Yoshi's asks me as I enter the upstairs restaurant. My instincts tell me something isn't right because very few reasonably priced Japanese restaurants in Vancouver offer coat-check and even fewer have authentic Japanese waitresses. I opt to hang on to my jacket in case unforeseen circumstances force me to beat a hasty retreat later in the evening. Fred, Tomlin, and Jeremy have already arrived and are seated at a table by the window. I notice none of them have checked their coats. Something is definitely up.

Almost as soon as I am seated, Fred whispers to me with some embarrassment that we've, in fact, made reservations at the wrong restaurant. Rather than the Japanese skewer place with hip ambiance and cheap beers that Fred and Tomlin had had in mind, we are instead sitting at what may well be the second most expensive Japanese restaurant in town. We are in too deep and there is precious little we can do, save ordering drinks and desserts and leaving at the earliest convenient moment.

The others order the cheapest sake on the menu--some twenty-dollar colourless antifreeze concoction served in a warm waterbath--while I try my hand at coffee and tiramisu. The waitress stares at me with an expression that's somewhere between bewilderment and annoyance, and tells me in heavily-accented English that both coffee and tiramisu are unavailable. I settle for green tea ice cream and Jeremy orders two--yes, two--pieces of sushi.

Moments later, the other members of our party arrive and are told of our predicament. I spend the next twenty minutes sneaking periodic glances at Chef Yoshi, the restaurant's owner, to see if there is any obvious signs of anger--thankfully, the chef is preoccupied with a couple at the sushi bar, who are presumably ordering real food. At this point, I realize that the fastest way we can leave is to somehow convince Jeremy to spit out his sushi in disgust and scream, "What is this @$*^? It tastes like raw fish and rice!!!!" But a quick look at the Chef and his deftness with his glistening knife quickly convinces me to abandon that idea.

The rest of the guys down the warm sake in shots and we quickly collect the bill and leave. Total time spent at one of the finest sushi establishments in Vancouver: 35 minutes. As we speed-walk out of the restaurant, I clutch my leather jacket and breathe a sigh of relief for not having checked it earlier--I'm doubly thankful I didn't use Yoshi's parking lot either. Whew.

Your Favorite Jerk

War

2005-12-18T16:19:00.000-05:00

My 10 year-old comrade-in-arms haunches over and quietly makes his way with me along the ridge from which the two of us plan to surprise our enemy. Heavy breathing from the long trek up has fogged up my safety goggles, letting me see things only as blurry, indistinguishable blobs--from here on in, the success of the campaign, and indeed my very survival, will depend on my young companion, a boy who only minutes ago was a total stranger. My intrepid friend is not big for his age, but what he lacks in bulk he more than makes up for with heart and determination. I catch his steely gaze and am confident that I am travelling with a good man.

Neither of us are experienced fighters. In fact, I suspect we look awfully goofie crawling along the ridge holding stock rental guns and sporting ragged automechanic overalls. But both of us know that it is not the equipment which makes a good soldier, but his will to survive and to vanquish his enemies. As the ridge starts to angle down, we both realize it's time for action: I click off the safety on my gun and pull the cock, ready to spray anyone unfortunate enough to fall victim to our brilliant ambush.

Suddenly, from behind me a voice shouts, "MURRAY!" I don't know if 'Murray' is code, or if it's simply the name of my little friend, so I quickly turned around with my gun and shout back, "What?" But before I can hear a response, I hear the distinctive splat of a headshot straight to my mask. As white paint streaks down my visor, I realize that I had misheard: the enemy soldier wasn't shouting "MURRAY", but rather he was asking if I wanted "MERCY", a way to surrender rather than take a close range shot to the head. Seeing me go down in front of his very eyes, my young companion screams out "MERCY MERCY!!!!" without a second thought. I have clearly misjudged the boy; he is not at all intrepid.

Your Favorite Jerk

Queues

2005-12-17T21:20:00.000-05:00

I know this is hard to believe, but I actually like standing in line for things. There aren't many other things you can do that allow you to literally turn around to see the progress you've made without having to do any real work besides simply being. But last night, I might have gotten too much of a good thing when I had to line up for almost an hour at the Air Canada counter to check in my one bag. The only saving grace was that I managed to catch my flight despite looking obviously flustered, and sweating profusely at the security checkpoint.

Back home for a couple of weeks now. MSN me if you want to chat, or call me if you're in Vancouver and want to do something.

Your Favorite Jerk

P.S.
The noise cancelling headphones were SUPER!!!!!! I managed to sleep through the first hour in quiet bliss. For the first time on a flight, I actually managed to hear the dialogue in the inflight movie...it's too bad it had to be from Russel Crowe.

P.P.S.
Tomlin, we're at Phil's house tonight watching the game. I'm not sure if you're in town yet, or if you'll check this blog before then, but if you do, call me or Phil, k?

P.P.P.S.
Do take good care of the bunny <3

Growing up

2005-12-14T17:42:00.000-05:00

As I left the lab at eleven o'clock last night and began my walk back home with the falling snow as my only companion, it suddenly dawned on me that I am growing up. It's kind of exciting, isn't it?

David

P.S.
The meeting went exceedingly well :-) Tonight, I think I'll catch up on some sleep.