When I get stressed out I tend to have really insane dreams. Well, I shouldn't say really insane, but you know. Which I guess goes without saying because most dreams always do have a strong element of wtf. It is however that time of year in the summer semester where there are assignments galore and midterms. That means catching up on a condensed half a year worth of reading I haven't done. To make matters slightly more harrowing I need to point out that I'm a proud student at two different universities. So on Mondays and Wednesdays I'm at U of T and Tuesdays and Thursdays at Ryerson. Oh, did I mention that in the sea of books, papers and shoe receipts that is my room I have misplaced my faithful mouthguard. That ingenious creation that stops me from grinding my teeth and saves me from insomnia. My grinding increases with stress and the insomnia from the teeth grinding brings on the effed up dreams.
Last night I wanted to go to bed early, the weekend was hectic. I've been immersed in Victorian lit (and maybe this is the reason for the dreams? All the repression?!) and wanted to take a minute to send Alby a goodbye note before she headed to Memphis. With all this swirling around in my head I went to bed at an indecent hour and had this dream.
We were headed to London, but as usual running late, got separated and boarded the plane individually. When we were in highschool and went on trips, we were Those Kids. You know, the ones that unspoken-ly got the back of the bus even if they're the very last ones to get on? This plane was no exception. Lo and behold Alby, Labro, Copto, Whoren and even Hoolia were all at the back of the plane. Apparently Labro and I were headed to South Africa after London. (Which seriously, wtf. She's the least likely out of everyone to want to do that. Also, no husband either.)
As we buckled ourselves in for take-off, a flight attendant came by, confiscated my iphone, passport and copy of George Eliot's Middlemarch. (I'm actually frantically trying to finish reading that for my mid-term on Wednesday.) This starts a series of scandalised whispers between the girls because as in real life, I look like ass in my passport picture and the flight attendant was all kinds of good looking.
We make it to London and go our separate ways. Emily leaves me for South Africa and I'm left stranded at the Heathrow (an airport I HATE) because the aforementioned confiscated documents. I head over to a kiosk and try to passively aggresively throw a civilised shit fit. Finally the same flight attendant comes by, gives my shiz back and I get upgraded to business class. (You'd think I'd have fought for 1st class eh? Even in dreams I aim low.) In a Bollywood twist of fate he turns out to be my seat neighbour and he's reading Bleak House. He turns to me and asks if I understand anything about the intricacies of the Victorian-era British legal system. I attempt to explain (sadly it is almost a word-for-word repetition on some short hand notes I made on the topic for my mid-term. I had been going over them earlier on in the evening). We then turn our attention over to George Eliot, banter on about Daniel Deronda, Eliot's supposed Christian fundie phase and her general scandalousness.
Natch at this point, I'm all "OMG. THIS FLIGHT ATTENDANT IS LYK TEH BEST EVAH!!1!one1" Then it happens. He transforms into Optimus Prime and ruins everything.
So what did we learn from all of this?
1. I am a giant nerd even in my dreams and Victorian lit is still totally hot.
2. My subconscious is telling me that I should re-look at going to South Africa.
3. Seeing the new Transformers movie really is a must.
4. I'm sort of effed for my mid-term on Wednesday.
Showing posts with label copto. Show all posts
Showing posts with label copto. Show all posts
Monday, June 22, 2009
Monday, September 04, 2006
Happy Birthday Babies!!
First off, a belated birthday shout out to Copto, and a Fresh one for Labro. Just because I didn't see either of you in the flesh does not mean your birthday beats are not forthcoming. Because they are. And I've been working out, so watch yourselves.
Secondly. I don't really know exactly what I've been doing since my last blog post, but evidently a lot because uh, I haven't found time to sight ye olde blogger-o.
Hmm...well, I survived the puppy and have come to the conclusion that if i can't afford a nanny there's no way in hell I'm having more than one child, two hyper active terriers for one week just about killed me.
I have been watching copious amounts of movies as of late. Some good some bad. Most are better left unnamed because, well, I'm a bit embarassed by my viewing selections.
A few things that I'm looking forward to in this glorious month of September.
Am counting down the 17 days and 40 minutes until I will be smooshed inside of the Horeshoe, standing stiff as a board (can't dance, and head bopping is forbidden because I look like I'm seizing) being mesmerised by the goodness that is controller.controller, because you know that Nirmala is my Sri Lankan idol, suck it M.I.A.
The Film Fest is starting! And you better believe I will be trying to score same day rush tickets for Borat Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, but let's see if my endeavour is indeed a great success. There are a bunch of other flicks I want to catch, but I won't bother mentioning all of them, because that's tedious, and as it is no one reads half of what I write. I know you skim. Don't lie. I'd do it too if I were you.
I have a kick ass schedule, Mondays and Fridays I am free from the shackles of higher education. Which for my slower readers means a four day weekend. Every week. Until April. w00t.
The days are getting cooler which means I can start wearing layers again. And sweaters...mmm...sweaters.
After 9 long and painful years, Abs is back in Ontario! Yay for Waterloo being the only university in Canada to offer optometry or some craziness like that. Looking forward to being able to pick up the phone and call without having to calculate a three hour time difference between Toronto and Vancouver. It will be down right pleasant.
And now? I'm too lazy to continue on with this half assed list.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Quips: Back by popular demand
It's been awhile since I've dug out some of the gems I've been privy to.
Words of wisdom from Aiya
Sucks that Aiya's moved out. But he does come home on Sunday mornings, and kinda hangs out until Monday. You guys know how he is. There's just too much goodness.
In the car, on the way for Sunday dinner
Me: I was on the internet, and i found this woman who breeds...
Aiya: Leprechauns?
Me: No you idiot...
Aiya: Lesbian Leprechauns?
After discovering a stash of phone cards, ammi deemed it appropriate to call all of our relatives.
Ammi: Here's a phone card, go and call your grandparents...
Aiya: Gah...
Ammi: You'll regret it when they get alzheimers
Aiya: No. If they had alzheimers and complained I never called, I'd tell them that I called them yesterday. And they wouldn't know.
*15 Seconds later*
Ammi: Did you call them??
Aiya: Ya. I did. The line was engaged
Ammi: This phone card? It hasn't even been scratched.
Random after dinner conversation
Me: Who's that on the front porch?
Vindhiya: Starts with an "E" and ends in a "K"
Aiya: Uh. Would that be "Eksathk"?
Me: No, I think the "K" is pronounced as an "H"
Aiya: Okay, well I think you're being something that starts with a "B" and ends in a "K"
Me: Hilarious. You should seriously look into stand up.
Aiya: That's right. A bitck. But remember, the "K" is pronounced "H"
On Food
We are a family of eaters. There's really not much more to it, as a result we spend a large portion of the day not only eating, but also talking about food.
At the local Sri Lankan take-out joint on a day when everyone was way too lazy to cook
Aiya: I want "cuttlefish"*
Me: Ya, I'm in the mood for calamari too.
Ammi: Well kids, I'm sorry. They don't have either of those. There's only squid on the menu.
* the posh way of saying "squid" in Sri Lanka. Although, as far as I know, they're two different species. But for the sake of this quip, let's just say they're one and the same.
Whilst watching a terribly written (what else is new?) Hindi movie
Me: You know what, the cinematography in this movie, it's so good. I'm speechless because I'm so surprised.
Aiya: I know, it's pretty impressive.
Me: It's all very Citizen Kane, with the camera angles and stuff...
Aiya: You mean, Citizen Jalebi.
Me: Ummkay.
Aiya: Or Citizen Gulab Jamun. Mmm. Citizen Ras Malai. Now that's something I haven't eaten in awhile. Ras Malai is so effing good.
After lunch at Punchi's place. Struggling against a sever case of 'itis
Punchi: Do you want some ice cream?
Me: Hmm...depends on what kind you have.
Vindhiya: We have a load. OoOoO There's Napoleon. You like that right?
Me: Napoleon?
Vindhiya: Ya Napoleon. You know, with the chocolate, vanilla and strawberry stripes?
Me: Napoleon? I think you mean Neapolitan? Have you been referring to it as Napoleon for the last 19 years?
Vindhiya: Maybe.
Surprisingly I haven't been pushed into anorexia. Yet.
Alby and I could never have an eating disorder. Not because we're totally happy with our love handles (among other things), but it's just because neither of us has the self will or determination to carry out an eating disorder. Keeping this in mind and viewing the below will give you ample evidence that there's enough psychological pressure to push me over the edge.
So terrible, that he will not even be named! But babe, you know who you are.
Me: I'm thinking about getting my belly button pierced.
Him: Really?
Me: Ya. Feeling a bit bleh these days and want to *do* something that doesn't involve getting drunk and making out with random guys.
Him: Well, ya that makes sense. But there's just one problem.
Me: What? That it'll be painful and I'll pass out?
Him: No. You have a gut. And no one will see the piercing, because it'll be completely obscured in its environment.
Me: It's a wonder that I don't have an eating disorder yet you know that?
Him: Loose the gut, and then get the piercing. That's my advice to you. It's foolproof.
While taking pictures after an overly large lunch when alby was able to break free from the holds of her Jewish over night camp and escape from Bracebridge for the day. Or wherever the hell that place is located
Alby: It looks like shit.
Me: Ya. We can't, we've spent like the last decade trying but we just can't.
Alby: Labro, just take the picture again, we both look like ass.
Labro: Is there anything that I can do...?
Me: Emergency face transplants perhaps?
Labro: I meant in terms of camera angles...
One of those occasions where were all just sitting around shooting the shit
Labro: (Looking at Copto) You know, loosing weight wasn't that hard. It's all about quantities...
Copto: Erm...
Me: Labro. Look how much weight he's lost. He's so thin now. I don't really think he needs any tips
Whoren: Ya, maybe you should be directing it this way. (Looks my way)
Me: Ya, I'm the one who needs it.
Copto: Ya, your words are wasted on me, she's the one who really needs the advice. (Turns my way)
Random Thoughts
I couldn't figure out where to stick these.
Whoren: So does he have a moustache?
Me: Whoren. What the hell?
Whoren: No seriously. Does he?
Me: Why would you even ask that?
Whoren: Well, you said he was Sri Lankan. Does he wear army fatigues too?
Me: You geek, he's not a Tamil Tiger.
Whoren: Ya but he should have a moustache. Otherwise it's just not right. Do you have a picture?
Me: Just this grainy one on my phone. He's the brown smudge on my right in blue.
Whoren: Whoa. He looks like he's 8 feet tall. That's a really tall guy. Does he play ball?
Copto: If he played ball, I could kill him. Guy we could kick his ass.
Me: (To Whoren) He's tall. But not as tall as that loser. (Glares at Copto.)
(Back to Whoren) As far as he's mentioned he only plays cricket in a hardcore manner.
Whoren: At least he's athletic. But really, it's a shame about that moustache
Aiya: Guess who I'm going to see August 27th?
Me: Um. I heard Ice Cube is coming?
Aiya: No. Listen to this.
Me: What is it?
Aiya: Just shut up and listen to it. It was like your summer theme song.
Me: Hmm, wasn't aware that I had one.
"Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira starts to play.*
Me: First of all you're an ass. Secondly, I didn't know Wyclef was coming, and why aren't you taking me?!
Aiya: Um. I'm going to see Shakira.
Me: Shut. The. Mom. Up.
*Long pause*
Me: I just don't know what to say. I'm so shocked.
*In my (albeit flimsy) defence, one could hardly call it a theme song. I just happened to be at this place called the Onyx one evening with some friends, and got asked to dance by 4 guys. At the same time. What can I say? Sri Lankans like Shaki.
Words of wisdom from Aiya
Sucks that Aiya's moved out. But he does come home on Sunday mornings, and kinda hangs out until Monday. You guys know how he is. There's just too much goodness.
In the car, on the way for Sunday dinner
Me: I was on the internet, and i found this woman who breeds...
Aiya: Leprechauns?
Me: No you idiot...
Aiya: Lesbian Leprechauns?
After discovering a stash of phone cards, ammi deemed it appropriate to call all of our relatives.
Ammi: Here's a phone card, go and call your grandparents...
Aiya: Gah...
Ammi: You'll regret it when they get alzheimers
Aiya: No. If they had alzheimers and complained I never called, I'd tell them that I called them yesterday. And they wouldn't know.
*15 Seconds later*
Ammi: Did you call them??
Aiya: Ya. I did. The line was engaged
Ammi: This phone card? It hasn't even been scratched.
Random after dinner conversation
Me: Who's that on the front porch?
Vindhiya: Starts with an "E" and ends in a "K"
Aiya: Uh. Would that be "Eksathk"?
Me: No, I think the "K" is pronounced as an "H"
Aiya: Okay, well I think you're being something that starts with a "B" and ends in a "K"
Me: Hilarious. You should seriously look into stand up.
Aiya: That's right. A bitck. But remember, the "K" is pronounced "H"
On Food
We are a family of eaters. There's really not much more to it, as a result we spend a large portion of the day not only eating, but also talking about food.
At the local Sri Lankan take-out joint on a day when everyone was way too lazy to cook
Aiya: I want "cuttlefish"*
Me: Ya, I'm in the mood for calamari too.
Ammi: Well kids, I'm sorry. They don't have either of those. There's only squid on the menu.
* the posh way of saying "squid" in Sri Lanka. Although, as far as I know, they're two different species. But for the sake of this quip, let's just say they're one and the same.
Whilst watching a terribly written (what else is new?) Hindi movie
Me: You know what, the cinematography in this movie, it's so good. I'm speechless because I'm so surprised.
Aiya: I know, it's pretty impressive.
Me: It's all very Citizen Kane, with the camera angles and stuff...
Aiya: You mean, Citizen Jalebi.
Me: Ummkay.
Aiya: Or Citizen Gulab Jamun. Mmm. Citizen Ras Malai. Now that's something I haven't eaten in awhile. Ras Malai is so effing good.
After lunch at Punchi's place. Struggling against a sever case of 'itis
Punchi: Do you want some ice cream?
Me: Hmm...depends on what kind you have.
Vindhiya: We have a load. OoOoO There's Napoleon. You like that right?
Me: Napoleon?
Vindhiya: Ya Napoleon. You know, with the chocolate, vanilla and strawberry stripes?
Me: Napoleon? I think you mean Neapolitan? Have you been referring to it as Napoleon for the last 19 years?
Vindhiya: Maybe.
Surprisingly I haven't been pushed into anorexia. Yet.
Alby and I could never have an eating disorder. Not because we're totally happy with our love handles (among other things), but it's just because neither of us has the self will or determination to carry out an eating disorder. Keeping this in mind and viewing the below will give you ample evidence that there's enough psychological pressure to push me over the edge.
So terrible, that he will not even be named! But babe, you know who you are.
Me: I'm thinking about getting my belly button pierced.
Him: Really?
Me: Ya. Feeling a bit bleh these days and want to *do* something that doesn't involve getting drunk and making out with random guys.
Him: Well, ya that makes sense. But there's just one problem.
Me: What? That it'll be painful and I'll pass out?
Him: No. You have a gut. And no one will see the piercing, because it'll be completely obscured in its environment.
Me: It's a wonder that I don't have an eating disorder yet you know that?
Him: Loose the gut, and then get the piercing. That's my advice to you. It's foolproof.
While taking pictures after an overly large lunch when alby was able to break free from the holds of her Jewish over night camp and escape from Bracebridge for the day. Or wherever the hell that place is located
Alby: It looks like shit.
Me: Ya. We can't, we've spent like the last decade trying but we just can't.
Alby: Labro, just take the picture again, we both look like ass.
Labro: Is there anything that I can do...?
Me: Emergency face transplants perhaps?
Labro: I meant in terms of camera angles...
One of those occasions where were all just sitting around shooting the shit
Labro: (Looking at Copto) You know, loosing weight wasn't that hard. It's all about quantities...
Copto: Erm...
Me: Labro. Look how much weight he's lost. He's so thin now. I don't really think he needs any tips
Whoren: Ya, maybe you should be directing it this way. (Looks my way)
Me: Ya, I'm the one who needs it.
Copto: Ya, your words are wasted on me, she's the one who really needs the advice. (Turns my way)
Random Thoughts
I couldn't figure out where to stick these.
Whoren: So does he have a moustache?
Me: Whoren. What the hell?
Whoren: No seriously. Does he?
Me: Why would you even ask that?
Whoren: Well, you said he was Sri Lankan. Does he wear army fatigues too?
Me: You geek, he's not a Tamil Tiger.
Whoren: Ya but he should have a moustache. Otherwise it's just not right. Do you have a picture?
Me: Just this grainy one on my phone. He's the brown smudge on my right in blue.
Whoren: Whoa. He looks like he's 8 feet tall. That's a really tall guy. Does he play ball?
Copto: If he played ball, I could kill him. Guy we could kick his ass.
Me: (To Whoren) He's tall. But not as tall as that loser. (Glares at Copto.)
(Back to Whoren) As far as he's mentioned he only plays cricket in a hardcore manner.
Whoren: At least he's athletic. But really, it's a shame about that moustache
Aiya: Guess who I'm going to see August 27th?
Me: Um. I heard Ice Cube is coming?
Aiya: No. Listen to this.
Me: What is it?
Aiya: Just shut up and listen to it. It was like your summer theme song.
Me: Hmm, wasn't aware that I had one.
"Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira starts to play.*
Me: First of all you're an ass. Secondly, I didn't know Wyclef was coming, and why aren't you taking me?!
Aiya: Um. I'm going to see Shakira.
Me: Shut. The. Mom. Up.
*Long pause*
Me: I just don't know what to say. I'm so shocked.
*In my (albeit flimsy) defence, one could hardly call it a theme song. I just happened to be at this place called the Onyx one evening with some friends, and got asked to dance by 4 guys. At the same time. What can I say? Sri Lankans like Shaki.
Monday, August 29, 2005
"Come on Trinitians, be sporty!"*
*translation: Come on you guys who went to Trinity College, have some sportsmanship!
Well kiddos, as soon as I get the beloved Mac checked out and serviced I'll post pictures of what I've been up to. Trying to explain would be too painful for both you and I.
I went to the rugby sevens tournament this weekend with thathi. What a washout, we drove all the way to Brampton to stand in the rain and get wet socks. It was good times. In the past I've attempted to explain the nature of the 'Old Boys Association' which is just the Sri Lankan way of saying 'alumni association.' Thathi is an 'old boy' of St. Thomas' College (STC) and in the interest of hooking up with some old classmates off we went.
It's always fun watching the uncles get hammered on smuggled beer and start yelling indecipherable things at rivals. This year they had the most teams represented so there was plenty of trash talking. The above quote was a result of the perfect mix of booze and unbridled STC pride after a drunk Trinitian hurled insults at our coach. Fortunately a big burly Peterite (St.Peter's) was there to stop the sloshed uncle from rushing the field.
Incidentally this was the first exclusively Sri Lankan gathering that I've been to since coming home. (And no. Church doesn't count!) It was nice to hear people chatting away in Sinhala and it reminded me how the gap between my dual identities are beginning to fill in, the distance to bridge is getting smaller. While this process of reconciliation between the Sri Lankan and Canadian is great, in some ways it blows as much as being confused did.
Something that struck me while in Colombo was the general narrowmindedness of some folks back in Sri Lanka. Especially in relation to how 'Sri Lankan' I actually am, or more appropriately, not. I don't think that it's an issue that can be quantified but it's interesting to see how people attempt to do so.
My Canadian accent was accused of being fake by more than one person. Apparently it's unusual for someone who has lived in Toronto for 18 years to speak like me. Although my Sinhala was good enough to get by it's far from perfect but never once was I laughed at when I tried to speak with someone who had no knowledge of English. You can just imagine the reactions I got from the English speaking populace. Something along the lines of when Copto busts out his French immersion skills to me. What really gets my quince however is the constant need I felt in having to assert my 'Sri Lankaness.' At first I didn't mind, but then it became downright irritating.
Things aren't like that here for us. Come on, think about it. If you happen to be reading this then chances are I know you. If I know you then chances are you're either an immigrant like me or a second generation Canadian. And due to the wickedly mutlicultural nature of the society we've grown up in, for someone to be Indo-Canadian, Irish-Canadian or any other hyphenated variation thereof, it's not crazy for us to not only view them as true Canadians but also accept them as that. No questions asked. No skill testing question. No language based examination.
Wish I could say the same for the motherland.
Oh yeah. Trinity got their ass kicked in by St. Thomas' 29-0. And Thathi was thinking 'blue, black and blue forever.'
Well kiddos, as soon as I get the beloved Mac checked out and serviced I'll post pictures of what I've been up to. Trying to explain would be too painful for both you and I.
I went to the rugby sevens tournament this weekend with thathi. What a washout, we drove all the way to Brampton to stand in the rain and get wet socks. It was good times. In the past I've attempted to explain the nature of the 'Old Boys Association' which is just the Sri Lankan way of saying 'alumni association.' Thathi is an 'old boy' of St. Thomas' College (STC) and in the interest of hooking up with some old classmates off we went.
It's always fun watching the uncles get hammered on smuggled beer and start yelling indecipherable things at rivals. This year they had the most teams represented so there was plenty of trash talking. The above quote was a result of the perfect mix of booze and unbridled STC pride after a drunk Trinitian hurled insults at our coach. Fortunately a big burly Peterite (St.Peter's) was there to stop the sloshed uncle from rushing the field.
Incidentally this was the first exclusively Sri Lankan gathering that I've been to since coming home. (And no. Church doesn't count!) It was nice to hear people chatting away in Sinhala and it reminded me how the gap between my dual identities are beginning to fill in, the distance to bridge is getting smaller. While this process of reconciliation between the Sri Lankan and Canadian is great, in some ways it blows as much as being confused did.
Something that struck me while in Colombo was the general narrowmindedness of some folks back in Sri Lanka. Especially in relation to how 'Sri Lankan' I actually am, or more appropriately, not. I don't think that it's an issue that can be quantified but it's interesting to see how people attempt to do so.
My Canadian accent was accused of being fake by more than one person. Apparently it's unusual for someone who has lived in Toronto for 18 years to speak like me. Although my Sinhala was good enough to get by it's far from perfect but never once was I laughed at when I tried to speak with someone who had no knowledge of English. You can just imagine the reactions I got from the English speaking populace. Something along the lines of when Copto busts out his French immersion skills to me. What really gets my quince however is the constant need I felt in having to assert my 'Sri Lankaness.' At first I didn't mind, but then it became downright irritating.
Things aren't like that here for us. Come on, think about it. If you happen to be reading this then chances are I know you. If I know you then chances are you're either an immigrant like me or a second generation Canadian. And due to the wickedly mutlicultural nature of the society we've grown up in, for someone to be Indo-Canadian, Irish-Canadian or any other hyphenated variation thereof, it's not crazy for us to not only view them as true Canadians but also accept them as that. No questions asked. No skill testing question. No language based examination.
Wish I could say the same for the motherland.
Oh yeah. Trinity got their ass kicked in by St. Thomas' 29-0. And Thathi was thinking 'blue, black and blue forever.'
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Claustrophobia strikes once again.
Last week I had the strangest dream
Where everything was exactly how it seemed*
Hmm. Four weeks of classes left, the less thought about that the better methinks. So how do I cope during a period which should be highly stressful? I hallucinate of course! Let's see, for the past I don't know, 2-3 weeks I've been having recurring nightmares where I get stuck in an elevator either by myself, or horror of all horrors with a crowd. Most of you enjoy exploiting my severe claustrophobia by squishing me into small spaces, purposely keeping elevator doors closed, swarming me etc and all you sadists get some sort of thrill in eliciting a panicked reaction from me. You'll all be happy to know, these stupid elevator dreams are incredibly realistic and just thinking about them is freaking me out.
Last week I saw Labro at the library, so I decided I'd go and scare her, because after Copto, she's the best to get reactions out of. She was sitting at a computer engrossed in what she was doing, so I went and shook her swivel chair really violently. When she turned around and looked at me horrified I realized it wasn't Labro. These cases of mistaken identity are occuring too rapidly for my liking! I swear I see someone I 'know' at least once a day. But after last week's episode, I restrain myself. Nevertheless they still leave me confused and disoriented. Oh wait. I'm always like that.
Naturally essay procrastination leads to watching crappy movies
Thathi has a thing for poorly made action movies. I have a thing for Hugh Laurie (and really it's only because of Blackadder) so when Thathi brought home Flight of the Pheonix I should have trusted my better judgement and not watched it. But it was Hugh Laurie (and I didn't want to study)! 113 minutes (plus previews) of my life which I will never recover. When in doubt, NEVER watch a remake, words cannot even begin to describe how terrible that flick was. Speaking of remakes though, I watched the original Ocean's 11, flipping amazing. A young Frank Sinatra, *swoon*
To make amends for my terrible lapse of judgement also known as the Flight of the Pheonix, I had to revisit some old friends. Meet some incredibly made Evian commercials. European of course. 'Evian Voices' is great, it's a montage of people lip synching to school kids singing Queen's We Will Rock You. My favorite, is the suit that's (*gasp*) singing in the elevator. 'Evian Water Boy' is soooooo cute. Of course it won a bunch of awards including a Clio. I'm sure you'll enjoy them more than the Flight of the Pheonix, or the Notebook. And no Alby, the final scene in that movie? It's not touching. It's cheesey.
*Sleeping In - The Postal Service
Where everything was exactly how it seemed*
Hmm. Four weeks of classes left, the less thought about that the better methinks. So how do I cope during a period which should be highly stressful? I hallucinate of course! Let's see, for the past I don't know, 2-3 weeks I've been having recurring nightmares where I get stuck in an elevator either by myself, or horror of all horrors with a crowd. Most of you enjoy exploiting my severe claustrophobia by squishing me into small spaces, purposely keeping elevator doors closed, swarming me etc and all you sadists get some sort of thrill in eliciting a panicked reaction from me. You'll all be happy to know, these stupid elevator dreams are incredibly realistic and just thinking about them is freaking me out.
Last week I saw Labro at the library, so I decided I'd go and scare her, because after Copto, she's the best to get reactions out of. She was sitting at a computer engrossed in what she was doing, so I went and shook her swivel chair really violently. When she turned around and looked at me horrified I realized it wasn't Labro. These cases of mistaken identity are occuring too rapidly for my liking! I swear I see someone I 'know' at least once a day. But after last week's episode, I restrain myself. Nevertheless they still leave me confused and disoriented. Oh wait. I'm always like that.
Naturally essay procrastination leads to watching crappy movies
Thathi has a thing for poorly made action movies. I have a thing for Hugh Laurie (and really it's only because of Blackadder) so when Thathi brought home Flight of the Pheonix I should have trusted my better judgement and not watched it. But it was Hugh Laurie (and I didn't want to study)! 113 minutes (plus previews) of my life which I will never recover. When in doubt, NEVER watch a remake, words cannot even begin to describe how terrible that flick was. Speaking of remakes though, I watched the original Ocean's 11, flipping amazing. A young Frank Sinatra, *swoon*
To make amends for my terrible lapse of judgement also known as the Flight of the Pheonix, I had to revisit some old friends. Meet some incredibly made Evian commercials. European of course. 'Evian Voices' is great, it's a montage of people lip synching to school kids singing Queen's We Will Rock You. My favorite, is the suit that's (*gasp*) singing in the elevator. 'Evian Water Boy' is soooooo cute. Of course it won a bunch of awards including a Clio. I'm sure you'll enjoy them more than the Flight of the Pheonix, or the Notebook. And no Alby, the final scene in that movie? It's not touching. It's cheesey.
*Sleeping In - The Postal Service
Monday, October 04, 2004
It's, it's like a lava lamp!
OoOo lots of things to talk about!! I have been having lots of random fun.
But first
A lexicon of terms, for those who asked for clarification.
Ammi - Sinhalese, means mom
Thathi - Sinhalese, means dad
Aiya - Sinhalese, means older brother
Oliver - our Jack Russell Terrier
Punchy - Sinhalese for little, it's what we call my mom's younger sister
Ranjan Bappa - Punchy's husband
Vhindiya - My female cousin
Paul - My other female cousin
Bro/Sis - I go to a hardcore Pentecostal church, need i say more?
Alby, Copto, Genis/Gene/Tool, Labro etc - Friends from high school.
Thorn - University buddy
And now in no particular order a smattering of how i have been occupying myself
:) Slobo's Baby Shower - Baby Showers are fun. They're even more fun when they're for friends! Slobo's was great. The moment of the night had to have been the "Copto" revelation. Copto was demanding answers and no one could give him any! (Slobo holding up Genis' baby clothes!)
:) Meeting the Dutch hottie - Alby and I had loads of fun. Perhaps the best part of it all was watching Dirjk (the Dutch hottie) fold his massive 6 foot+ frame into ammi's tiny little Carolla. (l-r: Dutch cuties + Alby)
:P Going to the Blue Jays' Game - I hate baseball. I still had fun though. It all started off with a guy hitting on Alby, using the smooth pick up line of "Hi, were you at Spring Rolls on Sunday night? I saw you there, my name is Kelly" *extends creepy hand* Alby getting excited and hitting Sonic's hand and Sonic spilling Coke on her upper thigh. Labro "supposedly" getting asked for her phone number by Jays' starting pitcher 'Botista' none of us have a clue as to who the heck he is LOL. Being told we're not allowed to take pictures in the stadiuam b/c it's "distracting" to the players. Riight. So we took one anyway. (l-r: Sonic and Alby)
:) Shopping with Alby like it was 1999 - To make up for the lost summer Alby and i saw a tonne of movies after i finished work. The one that really sticks out the most though is the night we went to see Collateral (of course we had to assign real life characters, Alby was Jamie Foxx, and i was Tom Cruise i don't remember who was Jada Pinkett, but it was probably Genis as usual). We went shopping before the movie and came to this conclusion. It would be impossible for us to have a psychological disorder. We could never be anorexic b/c we don't have ANY self control...we must eat. And we can't be "cutters" either b/c neither of us would ever have the guts to cut ourselves :) Another more important conclusion. Shopping for jeans = robbing a chick of all self-esteem that they might have. Flipping jeans. The sad thing is. They really do. To make amends i bought a fetching purse for a fetching price.
:) Monet - So Thorn and i went to see the Impressionist exhibit that was going on at the AGO. Whistler, Monet, and Turner. Let me tell you. It kicked some serious arse. I had such a good time. We got our tickets for free b/c some lady didn't want to wait in the crazy long entrance line. I can't wait to go to Europe. I finally got a real taste of what it's like to see the work of artists that you admire up close. There was a certain thrill in looking at paintings that you're familiar with...seeing the individual brush strokes, looking at the signature and all the minute little details and knowing that you and a couple of hundred other people in the room are looking at a piece of history. *emo shudder.* This is also the day i cut my own bangs in the bathroom. They were getting too long! (Thorn at the crusty St. Patrick's Station hold up one of our FREE ticket stubs :))
:S People trying to be philosophical, when they shouldn't - I was on the subway and this was taped to the seat in front of me. I think the ridiculousness of it speaks for itself. I hope it's clear enough for you to read it. (Read me if you dare!)
:( It's, it's like a lava lamp! - I know low-rise, crotch dusting jeans are supposedly in style. I too hate wearing pants that are too high. BUT. Something about having your arse hang out of your pants everytime you bend over does not appeal to me either. PEOPLE. PLEASE. STOP. WITH. THE. OVER. EXPOSURE. So Thorn and I are walking on Bloor street b/c she wanted to go and check Aritzia out. Just ahead of us is a fat chick in low rise pants and a CROPPED vintage t-shirt two sizes too small. I'm not thin. I know that. But as i stated above, i don't wear those freaking ultra low rise pants. Her rolls were out for the entire world to see. There must have been a foot of exposure from the waist of her pants to the bottom of her shirt. I like to keep my rolls private. But really. They were mesmerizing. Thorn aptly pointed out that "it's, it's like a lava lamp."
More Recently
Fanners and I hit up H&M. I got a sweet men's hat :) After H&M we went to Old Navy. Where we tried on children's Halloween costumes. Fanners is freakishly small, and i have a freakishly small head and feet. We took these pictures in the mirror; hence the overall bad quality picture. I'm a mouse, and Fanner's is a fairy :P (l-r: Fanners et moi)
:D Olivier - He got a new collar. It's kind of like a muzzle. But not so evil and mean. He hates it as you can see here, here, and here lol. He started obedience school, and he's bad so he gets stuck with a "Gentle Leader" as it is called. For the Sri Lankan/Indians out there. When you were a kid did you ever use your dad's sarong/lungi as a swing? I used to do it ALL THE TIME. Oliver enjoys doing it too. Yeah, Thathi's wearing a Scotiabank t-shirt. (Thathi and Ollie at the kitchen table)
In other news
We might have 30 people staying with us for Thanksgiving weekend. Yeah it's that time of year again! Our church is having it's annual Thanksgiving Conference (which you are ALL most welcome to attend btw!! October 7-10) and they want to take advantage of all the space in our empty basement. We have 3.5 washrooms. Will this be a billeting nightmare(as in years past)? Or billeting fun time? Stay tuned to find out!
But first
A lexicon of terms, for those who asked for clarification.
Ammi - Sinhalese, means mom
Thathi - Sinhalese, means dad
Aiya - Sinhalese, means older brother
Oliver - our Jack Russell Terrier
Punchy - Sinhalese for little, it's what we call my mom's younger sister
Ranjan Bappa - Punchy's husband
Vhindiya - My female cousin
Paul - My other female cousin
Bro/Sis - I go to a hardcore Pentecostal church, need i say more?
Alby, Copto, Genis/Gene/Tool, Labro etc - Friends from high school.
Thorn - University buddy
And now in no particular order a smattering of how i have been occupying myself
:) Slobo's Baby Shower - Baby Showers are fun. They're even more fun when they're for friends! Slobo's was great. The moment of the night had to have been the "Copto" revelation. Copto was demanding answers and no one could give him any! (Slobo holding up Genis' baby clothes!)
:) Meeting the Dutch hottie - Alby and I had loads of fun. Perhaps the best part of it all was watching Dirjk (the Dutch hottie) fold his massive 6 foot+ frame into ammi's tiny little Carolla. (l-r: Dutch cuties + Alby)
:P Going to the Blue Jays' Game - I hate baseball. I still had fun though. It all started off with a guy hitting on Alby, using the smooth pick up line of "Hi, were you at Spring Rolls on Sunday night? I saw you there, my name is Kelly" *extends creepy hand* Alby getting excited and hitting Sonic's hand and Sonic spilling Coke on her upper thigh. Labro "supposedly" getting asked for her phone number by Jays' starting pitcher 'Botista' none of us have a clue as to who the heck he is LOL. Being told we're not allowed to take pictures in the stadiuam b/c it's "distracting" to the players. Riight. So we took one anyway. (l-r: Sonic and Alby)
:) Shopping with Alby like it was 1999 - To make up for the lost summer Alby and i saw a tonne of movies after i finished work. The one that really sticks out the most though is the night we went to see Collateral (of course we had to assign real life characters, Alby was Jamie Foxx, and i was Tom Cruise i don't remember who was Jada Pinkett, but it was probably Genis as usual). We went shopping before the movie and came to this conclusion. It would be impossible for us to have a psychological disorder. We could never be anorexic b/c we don't have ANY self control...we must eat. And we can't be "cutters" either b/c neither of us would ever have the guts to cut ourselves :) Another more important conclusion. Shopping for jeans = robbing a chick of all self-esteem that they might have. Flipping jeans. The sad thing is. They really do. To make amends i bought a fetching purse for a fetching price.
:) Monet - So Thorn and i went to see the Impressionist exhibit that was going on at the AGO. Whistler, Monet, and Turner. Let me tell you. It kicked some serious arse. I had such a good time. We got our tickets for free b/c some lady didn't want to wait in the crazy long entrance line. I can't wait to go to Europe. I finally got a real taste of what it's like to see the work of artists that you admire up close. There was a certain thrill in looking at paintings that you're familiar with...seeing the individual brush strokes, looking at the signature and all the minute little details and knowing that you and a couple of hundred other people in the room are looking at a piece of history. *emo shudder.* This is also the day i cut my own bangs in the bathroom. They were getting too long! (Thorn at the crusty St. Patrick's Station hold up one of our FREE ticket stubs :))
:S People trying to be philosophical, when they shouldn't - I was on the subway and this was taped to the seat in front of me. I think the ridiculousness of it speaks for itself. I hope it's clear enough for you to read it. (Read me if you dare!)
:( It's, it's like a lava lamp! - I know low-rise, crotch dusting jeans are supposedly in style. I too hate wearing pants that are too high. BUT. Something about having your arse hang out of your pants everytime you bend over does not appeal to me either. PEOPLE. PLEASE. STOP. WITH. THE. OVER. EXPOSURE. So Thorn and I are walking on Bloor street b/c she wanted to go and check Aritzia out. Just ahead of us is a fat chick in low rise pants and a CROPPED vintage t-shirt two sizes too small. I'm not thin. I know that. But as i stated above, i don't wear those freaking ultra low rise pants. Her rolls were out for the entire world to see. There must have been a foot of exposure from the waist of her pants to the bottom of her shirt. I like to keep my rolls private. But really. They were mesmerizing. Thorn aptly pointed out that "it's, it's like a lava lamp."
More Recently
Fanners and I hit up H&M. I got a sweet men's hat :) After H&M we went to Old Navy. Where we tried on children's Halloween costumes. Fanners is freakishly small, and i have a freakishly small head and feet. We took these pictures in the mirror; hence the overall bad quality picture. I'm a mouse, and Fanner's is a fairy :P (l-r: Fanners et moi)
:D Olivier - He got a new collar. It's kind of like a muzzle. But not so evil and mean. He hates it as you can see here, here, and here lol. He started obedience school, and he's bad so he gets stuck with a "Gentle Leader" as it is called. For the Sri Lankan/Indians out there. When you were a kid did you ever use your dad's sarong/lungi as a swing? I used to do it ALL THE TIME. Oliver enjoys doing it too. Yeah, Thathi's wearing a Scotiabank t-shirt. (Thathi and Ollie at the kitchen table)
In other news
We might have 30 people staying with us for Thanksgiving weekend. Yeah it's that time of year again! Our church is having it's annual Thanksgiving Conference (which you are ALL most welcome to attend btw!! October 7-10) and they want to take advantage of all the space in our empty basement. We have 3.5 washrooms. Will this be a billeting nightmare(as in years past)? Or billeting fun time? Stay tuned to find out!
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