SEE MY PANTS!

It’s the 2nd day of Term 2, and it’s alright. We’ve been told that this term will be a wakeup call, which is daunting since the previous Term was pretty enthusiastic an alarm already.

So, the title of my post.

A while back April was trying to describe to me this style of pants she wanted. She went as far as physically trying to show me, before I tweaked and said that Carmaine has a pair sort of like what she’s describing. Today, she wore those pants so I told her to go show April.

Something else that would’ve been funny for Carmaine to actually say out loud (the first being “SEE MY PANTS!”) happened yesterday. We were taking the train home with Sonali, and we got onto the topic of Carmaine’s blood. She said that she has an iron deficiency, to which Sonali said that there are supplements you can take for that. She added, “Apparently they turn your shit black.”

Carmaine said, “Oh, I’ll let you know.”

I said, “How are you gonna let her know? ‘Hey Sonali, guess what? My shit turned black!'”

Today, I stayed back afterschool to rehearse for my English oral tomorrow. Tiff had been running around to pick up printoffs, and when she got back into the room it was her turn to practise her speech. So she sat down and started reciting her speech, and she was puffing and speaking very fast. Ly said, “Okay slow down. You’re talking really quickly because your heart is beating 24/7.”

I said, “THANK GOD! Because that would mean she’s still ALIVE!”

Chorals is tomorrow. I am involved this year, playing Hero’s introduction for Oreads orchestra. So it’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.

Not a long update. Dom’s finally got ready access to internet so he’s emailing more often. Maybe he blogged. Hmm, I shall see later. You should go see it too, why not. Free advertisement.

Alex.

A Bit Of Comic Relief…At Someone Else’s Expense

What other kind of comedy is there? I mean, in the end the funniest kind of comedy is always when someone else is suffering right? “Any amount of pain, just below death, is funny,” said Jim Carrey (or Steve Carell. Damn I can’t remember.)

So, on my blogroll sits a link to a site called Overheard Everywhere. For those who might not have caught onto what Overheard Everywhere is about, it’s a site where people contribute quotes or conversations they overhear, all over the world. As Vania had once done (dude, I really need to stop leeching off you. We all know how much leeches are a bother), I’ll put up some rather funny ones:

(Warning: I don’t have a good sense of inappropriateness. So, unlike Vania, my choices might have a lot of swearing or huge sexual references. Huge. Yeah…)

Girl #1: What’s an orgasm?
Girl #2: It’s like when two people get excited during sex.
Girl #1: So, like, when they go “rawwwrr!”
Girl #2: Uh…yeah. Sure.

—

College guy: This must be a joke. We live in a city called “Cumming,” we have a store called “BJ’s,” and a store called “Dick’s,” and a “Siemens” water tower.

—
Dad to little girl: I’m going to feed you to a puppy.
Little girl: Dad! I don’t want to eat a puppy.
Dad: I’m not going to feed you a puppy, I’m going to feed you to a puppy.
Little girl: Oh, that’s okay, I like puppies.

—

Ten-year-old girl to passing adult man: What’s your name?
Mother, scolding: Do you have to hit on every man you see?

—

Asian chick: I’m going to meet my old boss at that Thai restaurant. You know, the one with the woman that feels me up.
Asian dude: Oh, yeah. Aren’t all Thai women bisexual?

—

Nurse #1 (during break): I hope you don’t mind, I took one of your cigarettes from your purse because I was really craving one.
Nurse #2: it’s no problem. (pause) Wait. Was it my last one?
Nurse #1: Yeah…is that a problem?
Nurse #2 (furious): Are you fucking kidding me?!
Nurse #1: Yeah, yeah, relax! I was just kidding. There’s two more in there.
Nurse #2: Oh my god. Don’t joke about things like that.
Nurse #1 (nervously): Hahaha. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t scared for my life just now.
Nurse #2 (seriously): And I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t thinking of places to hide your body.

—

Physical education teacher, demonstrating the overhead smash in badminton: So I’m gonna find myself in a bad position and Sean is just gonna unload on me.

—

Elderly woman: I can’t believe they let you sell Obama cookies here! Tsk!
Employee: Ma’am, those are just gingerbread cookies.

—

Whiny three-year-old: Mom! I’m hungry! I’m huuuungryyyyy!
Mother (calmly, without missing a beat): Well, you should probably shut up.

—

Emo boy: Matt! Tell her how you fucked up your face!
Matt: I was rubbing one out in the shower and when I came, my knees gave out and I hit my head on the faucet.
Emo girl (gasping and laughing hysterically): That is best thing I have ever heard!

—

Drunk lesbian to sober girlfriend: Aw, I wanna puke but I can’t!
Sober girlfriend: I would punch you in the stomach if you wanted …that’s how much I love you.
Drunk lesbian: Awww, that’s sweet.

—

Drunk girl looking at digital camera: Sometimes I’m having such a good time I look Chinese.

—

I hope you’ve all had a laugh from that.

On a side note, you might have noticed I’ve changed the theme of my blog. It took me ages to decide on one I liked. I know that having a lot of writing on an inverse background (that is, black background, white writing) is not good and people tend to not read that, but I’ll take my chances. And besides now I have to not write too much, in case people stop reading.

And, since we’re on the topic of changes, I’ve adopted Vania and Julia’s habit of replying a comment within the comment. So if you think that I’m simply not replying you anymore, because you don’t see an increase in comment count, that’s not true; check into your comment.

Keep Cool (and stay looking Chinese)

D.F.

Like a marathon

I’m a pretty huge fan of talking and writing in metaphors and analogies and whatnot. I don’t know if you’ve noticed it. A lot of the times when friends come to me for help, I’ve tried to put their situation into an analogy so they can sort of see how to get out of it. I guess in a way I’m like a nicer and…slightly less intimidating version of S- Sensei.

What had happened was, and I hope it’s okay for me to share this story, Sensei would give us analogies of what was happening with our schoolwork. So once when I wrote an essay too long, and wrote a criteria out of range, he told me that by doing that I’ve basically received 2 black eyes. A double knockout. Because not only did I get marks taken off for going over the limit, I’ve also not filled in the criteria because they don’t mark what is out of range. Anyway, there was the one memorable one. A student was struggling a little in class, and went to Sensei to ask whether she should continue Japanese for Yr 12. His response (my closest recollection to her paraphrasing of what he said) was this:

“Imagine that we are all playing a game of basketball, but you are really fat. So even if you run around a lot, and you shout ‘pass me the ball!’ and you do this and you do that, you’re still fat, and you’re going to be very tired after the first quarter. Everyone else is skinny and healthy, so they can keep running but you’re fat so you’re going to die by halftime. This is you in Japanese. You are the fat basketball player.”

So, basically, I think he wasn’t so hot on her continuing Japanese. I thought he could’ve said, “Look I know you’re trying your best but the workload in Yr 12 is even harder so many this isn’t the best choice for you.” or something along those nice lines that teachers are made to say. Kudos to him though, for voicing it in a humorous way.

I think there was a time when a friend of mine was having relationship problems – or rather, problems with getting over it – and I said something like, “Ultimately, this is a bridge that you have to build alone, to get over. I mean, we your friends have given you the materials and the support and all that, but you’re gonna have to build the thing. It’s tempting to just stay on the side you are now, but I think to move on, you’d have to build that bridge.” I think she’s really on her way to doing it.

Okay, but the metaphor/analogy (I’d say metaphor) that made me smile today was this:

(I had to edit out bits that would make it personal)

“Think of your relationship as a marathon. You start off a little jerkily then you settle into a rhythm once you get into it. Sooner or later though you’ll hit a curve or an obstacle and you have to deal with it, If you don’t your [sic] stuck there not going anywhere. But once you get past it you’ve gained that much more and it means something, even if it’s small. Then you keep going. “

And the more I thought about that the more right she was (whoever the hell you are, you crazy thing). At the start of a friendship, you’re so energized, you feel you can sprint the whole way. Then you slow down, maybe tire out. It’s once you settle into that rhythm, and time gets its claws into you, that you can really test out your endurance. So many runners fall out, they give up. But if you last the distance, that feeling that you get when you cross the finish line, it’s like you’re “on top of the world” as I was told recently. And yeah, on the way you’ll meet potholes, snakes, hobos, whatever, but they’re mere distractions. They’re not world-ending.

I’m interested in making a VCE metaphor that includes piranhas and Tasmania Jones (OH NO I DIDN’T!)

Keep Cool (and runnin’)

D.F.

P.S. Yeah I actually just thought about signing off with “Keep Cool” and then something to do with the blog I just wrote. Let’s see how long I can last doing that.

Lemon Tarts

To me, having a slice of homemade (that is, not my home but someone else’s home) lemon tart on a sleep Sunday morning, while laughing at Doofenschmirtz’s latest plan being foiled by Perry the Platypus (“CURSE YOU PERRY THE PLATYPUS!”), is pretty damn close to being idyllic.

I think every time I have lemon tart from now on, I will think about this morning, when I had my first lemon tart. It was perfect weather, and I had a good sleep, waking up just in time to watch Phineas and Ferb, which I’ve missed 2 weeks in a row now. After I finished my plate of the Mi Goreng that Eunice gave me – or as I call it, Euny-Goreng – and sat there while the MSG fizzled away in my brain, I suddenly remembered the lemon tart that Bianca had dropped off last night. So when the ad-break came on, I cut myself a generous slice, and took a hungry bite into the cool tart.

Let me say this: Bianca, you are legen – wait for it…

…

(And I hope you’re not lactose intolerant because the second part is)

– DARY!

I thought for a moment to pour myself a drink, but the liquid would drown and wash away the crumbly crust and the lemony middle bit (look, I don’t bake. Just having me know “crust” is a breakthrough). So as I popped the last piece of crust into my mouth, and letting my tongue break it into delicious and awesome nothingness, I looked around guilitily. The coast was clear, and the ad-break was on. I cut myself another large slice.

As I was eating that piece (eating?! Oh the mere word doesn’t give the – dare I say orgasmic? – experience its due credit), it occured to me that, if I wasn’t alone, I would’ve said one of the two following phrases:

“This lemon tart is so good, I wanna sew my ass shut.”

OR

“I think I just had my first tart-gasm.”

(Actually, a really long line that Barney said was “I want…to take this burger out to dinner…then maybe a movie…then, take it back to my place, put on a little Terrence Trent D’Arby, [gets aggressive] then I will just… [pause, calms] fool around a little bit, nothin’ serious, just take it slow, y’know?”)

So, before I knew it, before I was ready, before I could even get out the needle and thread, I was once again poppin’ that last piece in. I looked wistfully at the dish on my kitchen counter. No. I have to leave it for later. I have to slowly savor the pure, not-too-sweet, and absolute AWESOMENESS that had come out of Bianca’s oven.

Throughout the day, the only thoughts crossing my mind is what I can possibly do to return the favor. What can beat pure awesomeness? Let me tell you this: nothing. Nothing can beat pure awesomeness, except the being that had originally created awesomeness, because only She can create something beyond what is already epitomic. But is it possible?

Keepin’ Cool,

D.F.