Homeward bound!

Exams are almost over; with 312 almost done away with, I expect 303 to go by quicker. The plan is to get with the girls before leaving. I quite like these going-away things. It makes flying alone so much less lonely and so much more anticipatory. My summer schedule is all figured out so coming back will be nice and smooth. Work is all sorted, so is the furniture. I feel like I can relax now save for the 2 remaining exams. 

It used to be that the course of life concerned itself only with the present and the short-term. Now, I worry about the coming back before even leaving. Nonetheless, having suffered first-hand the perils of ill-planning, I applaud and really am quite proud of my time orientation skills and ability to adapt as such (to borrow the language of organizational management).

I look forward to seeing my loves again, reveling in all that is familiar, near and dear. 

1181 Davie St

So I never made it to the Four Seasons BUT! what I did do though was spend both Friday and Saturday night in the presence of hawt hawt hawt homosexual men at 1181. It was one of my most pleasant bar experiences to date. People were genuinely nice despite their disinterest in my gender; men, young and old alike but all hot, consistently offered us girls seats, made way for us at the bars and humoured our straight antics. A major plus point: the bar takes Interac. The female bartender was suuper nice and concocted a delish drink for us as well. So I may not have gotten my Calvados but I got a Prettyboy and that was good enough for me this weekend.

Nonetheless, I vow to take Kapooks to the Four Seasons in celebration of our having achieved a whole new level of honest affection sans alcohol. See you all there this Saturday?

I'll be at the Four Seasons Saturday night

I declare tomorrow to be my "power study/study power (depends on your level of grammatical proficiency. Due to my Malaysian loyalties, I am of the opinion that both terms are grammatically correct) day". The plan is to be up by 8 am, get the lease by 9, email it to Montreal snap snap, grab a couple of bubble teas, and head to the office by noontime. Need a few signatures here and there, then head off to a coffee place (I am quite feeling Artigiano right now) to studyyy. The plan is to be done with 393 by tomorrow. Tomorrow will be infinitely more productive than today has been, I am sure of it.

For some reason, I very enthusiastically made plans for this weekend which still looks quite feasible. I am not sure how this works but it just might. Anyhow, the plan is to be seen with some calvados because really, calvados solves all problems. If calvados if good enough for Ravic, and God Almighty knows Ravic had some very serious problems!, then calvados is good enough for me. 

Good night, world. We'll speak again tomorrow. Oh and Tunatic is the shit!!

Orange Moon

This cannot be healthy: a combination of Portishead and Jeff Buckley, demotivation and the stench of stale cigarettes. Seriously though, I am not jaded/depressed or anything like that. I'm just plain lazy. Ffffuck! 

On a healthier note, Mikey dear is coming over with bubbletea and a stack of work; hopefully, this will force me to confront my impeding doom that is the IS101 final and spur me into an action plan. Then we will study study study until morning light and all will be well again. 

Once again, Daddy came to my rescue re rent and instead of staying up all night worrying how to make rent, I can study with ease of mind and spend tomorrow in bed! I love Daddy!

I walked by the heritage building across my apartment today. In the light of day, it is less imposing and regale as I remembered it to be in the rain and storm 2 days ago. In the bright sunshine, all its imperfections shone and it lost its regality. In the light of day, everything that is perfect is made even more perfect and imperfections are forced into confessions. In the stormy dark, it looked strong and solid, testament to the years that it has stood there. In short, it has earned its position. In the sunshine, I saw through its cracks and was gobsmacked by the weariness of age. 

I doubt if I will ever look at that building in the same light again. I'll take a picture tomorrow. Mini trivia: this is the building that was Scully's (of X-Files) home in the series. It's still a pretty building nonetheless. I remember when I was first house-hunting in the neighbourhood and I called the posted number only to be told that I couldn't and wouldn't be able to afford to live in that building. At that time, I was so infatuated with the building that the insult didn't sting one bit (and that he was right - I couldn't afford it). Now I walk by it everyday and its charm has been lost on me.

Meh. 

Oh Vancouver

Photo credit: Ah Fay

How do I love thee/let me count the ways

1. You snow in spring time
2. You rain incessantly
3. You make people contemplate suicide 10 times in a day
4. You hail in the mid of day
5. Only in you do I find the sight of bums familiar
6. You close down half the mental hospitals in the city, forcing mental patients into the corner of desperation, pain and wasting
7. Your dream come true is the Winter fucking Olympics
8. Your refusal to acknowledge the poverty and depravity that exists in the heart of your very bosom
9. The murderous sprees you spawn
10. The Church of Scientology and it's free stress tests
11. Your banning of public smoking
12. Your advertising and observance of Earth Hour 

Oh Vancouver/ I shall but love thee better after death

Sarika

I dedicate this post to Sarika, who sits here cursing and swearing. She is my neighbour and weirdo who roars. She laughs recklessly, just like her hair. 

If I had to describe her hair in one word, that would be it: reckless. Sarika is quite graceful though a little gangly. 

Her strut is quite hot. And she likes Earl Grey Tea black. She mistakes happy sighs for size and says oh when she's startled and has to cry.

.

Malaysian Dreamgirls

The basic rundown is that Malaysian media, acting in true accordance to its phony, warped ideas of what the free press is, has a new reality show titled Malaysian Dreamgirls. It chronicles the lives of 12 girls who aspire to be successful models. Put simply, it is the Malaysian version of America's Next Top Model minus the professionalism. Also, it is only aired online so as to circumvent the censorship board therefore allowing the exposure of flesh by Muslims and non-Muslims alike.

Curiosity got the better of me and I have just wasted the better half of a Friday night (on St. Paddy's weekend no less) watching every posted episode. Now it was all fine and dandy - I even forgave the shoddy camera work and the perverseness that is Kenny Sia - until I got to Episode 4. The first competitive photoshoot that will result in one girl being voted out was lingerie themed. This pisses me off ROYALLY. It is vulgar, obscene, and downright disrespectful.

The proponents of "free, uncensored" press in Malaysia seem to equate free with nudity or partial nudity. It disgusts me that these women - all intelligent and beautiful in their own right - are made to parade in front of a camera with next to nothing on for the purpose of judgment. No consideration for intellect, virtue or graces. Now, one may argue that modelling requires none of these but if such is true, then why have short or unfit girls made the cut? It is highly hypocritical to speak of modelling as a successful, enhancing career if one is reduced to the status of an object.

I love the fashion world and I think modelling is extremely glamorous; a world I am just not tall enough to belong to. My objections are not with the notion of modelling, but herein lie with the producers of Malaysian Dreamgirls who propogate a warped idea of modelling through this reality show series. They seem to forget that Malaysians are essentially a conservative society; we value virtue and modesty. Requiring girls to pose in lingerie - an attempt to "fit in" with the rest of the modelling world - is a crude, vulgar expression of rebellion that is shameful and distasteful. Forcing the audienceship (an audienceship that determines the show's success no less) to swallow profanity at the expense of being branded "backward and kolot" is disrespectful and reflective of the immaturity of the media. It is for precisely such reasons that the media ought to be heavily regulated.

With great freedom, comes great responsibility. The ability to circumvent censorship by airing online does not release one of that responsibility; contrarily, it is in a free arena that one ought to display exemplary behaviour thereby marking one as great and truly deserving of freedom.

Once again, the Malaysian media has proven itself unfit. Beneath the facade of "progress", the true notion being propogated here is that sex sells. And the price is RM1 per sms.