Sunday, 29 April 2012

Journey of a Japanoodle







Despite what many language books, friends, or online tutorials may have told you, Japanese is NOT simple, fun, or rational (Japanese vocabulary is determined by throwing tiny pieces of sushi at a dart board with several random numbers attached to it. The numbers are then fed into a machine. The machine is then destroyed). The Japanese spread these rumours to draw foolish Gaijin into their efficient clutches.

Not only is it not simple, it's probably one of the hardest languages you could ever want to learn. With three completely different written languages (none of which make sense), a multitude of useless, confusing politeness levels, and an absolutely insane grammatical structure, Japanese has been crushing the souls of the pathetic Gaijin since the very first Jesuit priests washed ashore there on a raft made of bibles.



The Japanese Writing System


The Japanese writing system is broken down into three separate, autonomous, insane parts: Hiragana ("those squiggly letters"), Katakana ("those boxy letters") and Kanji ("roughly 4 million embodiments of your worst nightmares").

Hiragana is used to spell out Japanese words using syllables. It consists of many letters, all of which look completely different and bear absolutely no resemblance to each other whatsoever. Hiragana were developed by a group blind, deaf, and dumb Japanese people who scribbled things on pieces of paper while having no idea why they were doing so. The resulting designs were then called "Hiaragana", and were used to predict the future. The prince who invented these characters, Yorimushi ("stinking monkey-bush-donkey") was promptly bludgeoned to death. But don't worry, because as your teachers will tell you, you'll hardly use Hiragana in "real life".

Katakana are used only to spell out foreign words in a thick, crippling Japanese accent, so that you'll have no idea what you're saying even though it's in English. However, if you remember one simple rule for Katakana, you'll find reading Japanese much easier: whenever something is written in Katakana, it's an English word! (note: Katakana is also used for non-English foreign words. And sound effects, and Japanese words). Katakana all look exactly the same, and it's impossible, even for Japanese people to tell them apart. They kind of look like the number 9, except straighter. No need to worry though, because you'll hardly ever have to read Katakana in "real life".

Kanji are letters that were stolen from China. Every time the Japanese invaded China (which was very often) they'd just take a few more letters, so now they have an estimated 400 gazillion of them. Kanji each consist of several "strokes", which must be written in a specific order or Japanese people will laugh at you. Each character conveys a specific meaning, like "horse" (note that the character for horse could also mean "car". Or "police officer". Or "Didacticism"). Kanji can also be combined to form new words. For example, if you combine the Kanji for "small", and "woman", you get the word "carburetor". Kanji also have different pronunciations depending on where they are in the word, how old you are, and what day it is. When European settlers first came upon Japan, Japanese scholars suggested that Europe adopt the Japanese written language as a "universal" language understood by all parties. This was the cause of World War II several years later. Don't worry, as most Japanese gave up on reading a long, long time ago, and now spend most of their time playing Pokémon, you'll never have to use kanji in "real life".           
 
 
(to be continued)

Journey of a Japanoodle

I came across a long-lost file while tidying up my documents and spent a good 10 minutes laughing my butt off. In memory of spring 2011, which was an amazing time, I will be periodically posting little snippets of my favorite critical piece about Japanese. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did!
(kudos to Anne Melikhanov for discovering the piece)


> So You Want To Learn Japanese <

You've eaten at a few Japanese restaurants, seen some anime, hosted an exchange student, and had a Japanese girlfriend. And now, somewhere in the back of your tiny brain, you think that Japanese would be a good language to learn. Hey, you could translate video games! Or manga! Or even anime! Pick up Japanese girls, impress your friends! Maybe you'll even go to Japan and become an anime artist! Yeah! Sounds like a great idea! Everyone will think you are SO COOL!

So you head down to the library, pick up some books with titles like "How To Teach Yourself Japanese In Just 5 Seconds A Day While Driving Your Car To And From The Post Office" and "Japanese For Complete And Total, Utter Fools!...Who Should Never Procreate". Hey, you already know a few words from your manga collection/girlfriend/anime. You already know how to say good morning! Excited and impressed with your new knowledge, you begin to think: "Hey. Maybe, just maybe, I could do this for a living! Or even major in Japanese! Great idea, right?

WRONG.

I don't care how many anime tapes you've watched, how many Japanese girlfriends you've had or how many books you've read, you don't know Japanese. Not only that, majoring in the god-forsaken language is not fun or even remotely sensible. Iraqi war prisoners are often forced to major in Japanese. The term "Holocaust" comes from the Latin roots "Holi" and "Causm", meaning "to major in Japanese". You get the idea. And so, sick of seeing so many lambs run eagerly to the slaughter, I have created this guide to REAL TIPS for studying Japanese.

Or, as is actually the case, not studying it.



(to be continued)

Thursday, 26 April 2012

Tuesday, 24 April 2012

Paw Prints

Kiara - Bish, Poopy number 2,
Inu, Fish Brain, Kirusha, Cow, Pig,
Chicken Legs, Kirara, Kin'a.
Human and animal, meeting for a brief moment on the couch to enjoy the lovely sound of guitar (..okay, maybe my skills on the guitar aren't really enjoyable yet, but I'm working on them). Kiara curled up beside me while I was thumbing through the pages of my music book, getting ready to practice. Her action reminded me of Sungha's little dog, who makes a star appearance in some of his videos by camouflaging as a fluffy white pillow and revealing his true identity at the end of the video. I felt so appreciated, I scratched her between the ears, something I rarely do. I went through several songs with her muzzle resting on my left leg, glowing of pride inside. As I was flipping to the next page, she suddenly whined and stuck her nose into my pocket. How naive I was to think that Kiara, of all dogs, would come enjoy my company out of her own goodwill. Of course there was a nice crunchy treat in my pocket. She left as soon as she chocked it down.

on the same page

Such a simple concept, yet so true: that which we manifest is before us; we are the creators of our own destiny. Be it through intention of ignorance, our successes and our failures have been brought on by none other than ourselves.                  

Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain

Monday, 23 April 2012

Chapter 8. School

Life in Japan is like an unending stint at a school where you have to keep taking tests - giving your answers under pressure without help or guidance, knowing that you will get no second chance if you make a mistake. Japanese people have to make many of the big decisions of thier lives - whom to marry, what company to join - without detailed information, since it is rude to ask direct questions even at omiai meetings and job interviews. They have no choice but to trust authority and do their best, just as they were supposed to in school. If their job or marriage turns out to be a disappointment, they will be given the same vague exhortations they heard from their teachers: keep trying, work hard, pay attention.
There is nothing intrinsically wrong with trying harder. Sometimes when I see my former students in Green Bay seeming to flounder - waiting on tables or working clerical jobs they hate, the whole time talking about their big plans to "go back to school" soon - I think maybe a little Japanese perseverance might not hurt them. I know that for them or anyone else, going back to school does not guarantee a job or happiness. Within school, too, when my students complain that everything we read in a modern American literature class is depressing or that I simply do not "like" their work (when every poem they wrote in class is a love poem in couplets), I long for a little Japanese respect for authority. Some of my students would be better off if they trusted me a little rather than questioning my decisions at every turn. Still, I would rather have students who question too much that those who assume that I know best and don't owe them any explanations. No one should have power that is unjustified and unjustifiable, regardless of how convenient or efficient it may seem for the smooth running of the classroom, the educational system, or the country.

Kyoko Mori, Polite Lies

Sunday, 22 April 2012

Omg, ikr??

I sometimes wonder. Stupid computer, so distracting =_=

Friday, 20 April 2012

Beautiful World

I came across a blogger today, a Toronto native of 32, Neil Pasricha. Yesterday, he entered the last post of 1000 Awesome Things, a website dedicated just to the awesome quirks of life. It made me smile because it wasn't heavy material, but presented in a comical fashion (he also wrote a book, apropriately called The Book of Awesome). Pasricha was inspired to start his blog after a rough patch in his own life. "Life just hadn't been that great lately, I was in a marriage heading in the wrong direction, my closest friend was battling severe mental illness and I really thought I needed a way to focus on the positive some how," said Pasricha, who later got divorced and lost his friend to suicide, two difficult chapters in his life that became awesome entries; getting to the light at the end of the tunnel (No. 567) and smiling and thinking of good friends who are gone (No. 829)."
He really inspired me to look on the bright side of things more often and stop to smile at the little joys. Here is a snippet from his website, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

#2 Remembering how lucky we are to be here right now
Let’s go on a field trip. Put your shoes on because we’re heading outside.
Take a bowling ball and drop it on the edge of your driveway. That’s our Sun. Yeah, the ball is only eight inches across and the actual Sun is eight hundred thousand miles across but that’s our scale for this little brainwave. Okay, now walk down your street ten big paces and drop a grain of salt on your neighbor’s lawn. That’s Mercury. Take nine more paces down the street and drop a peppercorn for Venus. And then take another seven paces, so you’re now two or three houses down the block, and toss down another peppercorn.
You got it.
That peppercorn is Earth.
Here we are, basking in the blazing sun, twenty-six big steps away from the bowling ball. Our giant planet is just a tiny speck in the middle of nowhere but here’s the crazy part: It gets a whole lot bigger.

If you keep walking, Mars is only couple more houses away, but Jupiter ends up ninety-five big paces down the street, out of the neighborhood, and halfway to the corner store. By now a dog is probably slobbering in the bowling ball finger holes and kids are flying by you on their bikes, slurping drippy popsicles, and wondering what’s up with this nut tossing crumbs on the sidewalk, acting out some demented suburban version of Hansel and Gretel.
If you want to finish up our solar system, you’re going to have to start taking two- and three-hundred paces for the remaining planets, eventually dropping a grain of salt for Pluto half a mile away from the bowling ball. You can’t see the bowling ball with binoculars and it’s getting cold out for your long walk home.
But here’s the crazier part: That’s just our solar system. That’s just our bunch of rocks flying around our big bright bowling ball star.
Turns out our big bright star and all its salt and peppercorns are racing around a cosmic race track with two hundred billion other big bright bowling ball stars. You’d have to cover the entire Earth with bowling balls eight thousand times to represent the number of stars in our race track. Did we mention this race track has a name? Yup, it’s called the Milky Way galaxy, presumably because the scientists who first noticed it were all eating delicious Milky Way candy bars late that Friday night down at the telescopes.
So basically our bowling ball, salt, and peppercorns are flying in the fast lane around a ridiculously giant race track galaxy called the Milky Way with billions and billions of other bowling balls, salt grains, and peppercorns, too.

But are you ready for the craziest part: That’s just our galaxy. Guess how many giant racetrack galaxies are in all of outer space? Oh, not many. Just more than we can possibly count. Honestly, nobody knows how many galaxies are out there in the big blackness. All we know is that every few years somebody stares out a little further and finds millions more of them just shining way out in the void. We don’t know how deep it goes because our rocketships don’t blast off that far and our thickest, fattest telescopes can’t see that far.
Now, all this space talk might make us feel small and insignificant, but here’s the thing, here’s the big thing, here’s the biggest thing of all: Of the millions of places we’ve ever seen it appears as though Earth is the only place that can support life. The only place! Oh sure, there could be other life-giving planets we haven’t seen yet, but the point is that Earth could easily have been a clump of sulphur gas, be lying in darkness forever, or have a winter that dips a couple hundred degrees and lasts twenty years like Uranus.
On this planet Earth, the only one in the giant dark blackness where anything can live, we ended up being humans.
Congratulations, us!

We are the only species on the only life-giving rock capable of love and magic, architecture and agriculture, jewelry and democracy, airplanes and highway lanes. We’re the only ones with interior design and horoscope signs, fashion magazines and house party scenes, horror flicks with monsters, guitar jams at concerts. We got books, buffets and radio waves, wedding brides and roller coaster rides, clean sheets and good movie seats, bakery air and rain hair, bubble wrap and illegal naps.
We got all that. But people, listen up.
We only get a hundred years to enjoy it.
I’m sorry but it’s true.
Every single person you know will be dead in a hundred years — the foreman at your plant, the cashiers at your grocery store, every teacher you’ve ever had, anyone you’ve ever woken up beside, all the kids on your street, every baby you’ve ever held, every bride who’s walked down the aisle, every telemarketer who’s called you at dinner, every politician in every country, every actor in every movie, everyone who’s cut you off on the highway, everyone in the room you’re sitting in right now, everyone you love, and you.

Life is so great that we only get a tiny moment to enjoy everything we see. And that moment is right now. And that moment is counting down. And that moment is always, always fleeting.
You will never be as young as you are right now.
So whether you’re enjoying your first toothpicked turkey cold cuts and marveling at apples from South Africa, dreaming of strange and distant relatives from thousands of years ago, or staring into the blackness of deep, deep space, just remember how lucky we all are to be here right now.
If you feel that sense of wonder and beauty in all the tiny joys in life then you’re part of an international band of old souls and optimists, smiling on sidewalks, dancing at weddings, and flipping to the other side of the pillow. Let’s all high five and keep thinking wild thoughts, dreaming big dreams, and laughing loud laughs.


Click on this! It's 1000 Awesome Things >> http://1000awesomethings.com/

What am I listening to: Beautiful World (Jim Brickman)
What am I thinking of: how lucky I am!
What I should be doing: cleaning my room
What I want to do: eat sunflower seeds

Tuesday, 17 April 2012

-untitled-

"Even
After
All this time
The Sun never says
To the Earth,
"You owe me."
Look
What happens
With a love like that.
It lights the
Whole
Sky."

D. Ladinsky

Monday, 16 April 2012

Forever Alone


Sorry, guys and girls who I put this through. But I just can't resist shoving him in your face. Just remember that what goes around, comes around. You will feel a lot better knowing that I will suffer later ^_^

(kudos to FreeHugs for the picture!)

What am I listening to: Fantastic Baby (BIGBANG)
What am I thinking of: I want an orange. I think I'll go get one.
What I should be doing: editing my friend's essay
What I want to do: sleep, my bed looks soft and inviting today

Sunday, 15 April 2012

Opinion: The Hunger Games

Every feather of my pin is visible - details like these are hard to come by.
Congratulations to the makers of the Hunger Games movie, because I have to say it was well worth my money. Everything about it was outstanding - the actors fit their characters, the sets used were more than believable, the music was well-placed, the storyline followed the books rather well, and the acting was superb. By my movie standards, I award it 8/10 stars. If you have not read at least the first book or watched the movie, please do not proceed any further with this review as it contains major spoilers.

Alright, now to the juicy stuff. Let's start with the things I didn't like. First and foremost, what irritated me beyond belief - and my friend who watched it with me - was the movement of the camera. During what must have been at least one third of the movie, the camera man seemed to crash through the woods ahead of Katniss, while keeping the camera propped on his shoulder, vaguely focused on her. As she was running away from a forest fire, I observed the lone piece of cold popcorn on the floor beside my shoe because I was getting a headache from watching the camera man leap over fallen trees and dodge burning branches. Another aspect of camera handling that could have been a lot better was the way they switched scenes extremely fast - first Katniss is crouching in the bushes, then we see the tips of her fingers grabbing the silver end of an arrow, a zoom in on her eye, on her lips, then she releases the arrow, which is followed by the camera for a split moment - this all happens in about 1.3 seconds. If my popcorn didn't threaten to make a reappearance due to poor camera operating, the movie would have gotten a higher rating from me.
Moving on to the next negative point. I felt like not enough attention was paid to the Districts during the course of the Games, even though the revolts that were mentioned in the book are crucial to have an understanding of the storyline and the problems Katniss arose by challenging the Capitol - the fact that the Districts are now rebelling, which is the main issue of the next two books. Also, we were not given much background information on life within the District (electric fences, Peacekeepers, the market, food shortages, Prim's goat, etc). One subplot was left out - the Avox girl. However, it was not a major loss as it was used in the book only to underline the Capitol's power, which we saw plenty of during the Games (the scenes in the control room, something that was not in the books).
Well, I feel like I've explained why I took away 2 stars quite sufficiently. The time has come to justify the 8 stars the movie did pull out of me. As I've stated before, the things that were well-worthy of a pat on the back were: the actors, the props, the soundtrack, the relation to the book and the acting itself. Let's start with the first one, the actors picked for their roles. All of them were wisely chosen to play the characters, except Cinna, whom I've always imagined to be a caucasian man with short brown hair. Boy, was I surprised.. Josh Hutcherson fit my image of Peeta perfectly, the stocky blond bakery boy. Gale was too tall and mature for what I had in mind. Team Peeta, whoo! Haymitch was just exceptional, he's my favorite. Best scene of the movie was when he gave Katniss a thumbs up after she shot the apple - the crazed look in his eyes and the crooked grin were flawless. Still, he will never outdo my favorite drunkard of them all - Captain Jack Sparrow  ^_^
I'm still debating whether the giant chrome building of the chariot scene was real or computer-enhanced. I'm almost fully sure that the forest used was not a set, it was far too believable. I would have loved to be one of the prop artists for the Capitol citizens - it must have been fun designing the uniquely cut facial hair, bold eyelash accessories, bizarre dresses and cringe-worthy hairstyles.
My friend pointed out that the soundtrack was great and I have to agree with her. *hums Rue's lullaby*
The movie followed the book quite closely, which was nice to see, as opposed to going to the movie theatre expecting to see the book in motion and coming out with a completely different picture. The end of Peeta's interview was identical to the corresponding part in the book, I was impressed!
For the time provided, all the major points of the story were worked into the film and nothing important was left out, so that was a well-deserved star.
My habit of chewing my nails returned somewhere throughout the movie, as I was so nervous to see what happens next (even though I already knew). The whole room jumped when the god-forsaken dog hybrid leaped out of the bushes in the dead silence of the night. Just for that, the movie should have gotten a rating of PG-13.
Finally we come to the acting. It was exceptional is all I have to say. To the point where fat tears were about to roll down my (equally fat) cheeks. The beautiful moment I am talking about is Rue's death. It was not that I felt incredibly sad myself, but it was morai-naki for me, which only proves that the acting of Jennifer Lawrence was outstanding. Morai-naki is a Japanese expression that refers to the way a person is moved to tears by seeing others cry even though they may not have a personal reason to feel sad. This was one of the, if not the most, moving cinematic experience I've had. A recent one happened when I finished Harry Potter 7 this summer, I felt overjoyed and saddened at the same time - happy that everything ended well and sad that I would never see Harry again. A while before that, I cried at Marley & Me - but not because of the acting, but because I felt genuinely blue. And the earliest one was again at Harry Potter, when I was too scared to uncurl myself and watch the werewolf scene in the 3rd movie. A glimpse of the bony grey beast haunted me for years.
Back to the Hunger Games. When Katniss was just about to step into the tube which would take her to the arena, she was shaking and I was too. Her fright caused me to put myself in her shoes, which was the closest I've ever come to feeling like I was in the movie - in 10 seconds, I would have to give up everything and everyone I ever loved and die at the hands of a fellow teenager. Incredible feeling, really.
To sum it up, it was great. Thrilling and moving at the same time. Looking forward to the sequel!

PS: I was breaking my head trying to remember Effie's name for the first half of the film. Which caused me to notice that they never mentioned hers, Seneca Crane's, or President Snow's.

Saturday, 14 April 2012

Chapter 7. Symbols

The last time I saw my brother, we were at Michiko's house and someone called him on the phone. Since the phone was only a few steps from where the rest of us where having tea, I could hear his part of the conversation. It sounded like a business call, probably from one of the customers for his wholesale store.The caller did most of the talking, and my brother was simply agreeing. "Hai, hai," he said, over and over: "Yes, yes." Every ten or twenty seconds, he said, "Sumimasen," which could mean "I'm sorry," "Thank you very much for your trouble," "I'm glad you are doing me a favor," or all of the above. Every time he said Sumimasen or another standard phrase, Arigatou gozaimasu - "Thank you" - he pressed the receiver to his ear and bowed. He was doing the same thing our mother used to do, and speaking in a high, smooth voice, using all the levels of honorifics I had forgotten or never learned.
"One of the stores downtown," he told us after he hung up. He rolled his eyes. "I hate these people. They always drive such a hard bargain. They're dumb but aggressive. That guy who called was the worst of them all."
Jumpei had been forced to be polite to hold on to the caller's business - not because he liked or respected him. He wasn't embarrassed to criticize the caller behind his back, to admit that is own effusive gratitude and apologies had been insincere. If he was only pretending to be polite, I wondered, why did he make a physical gesture that the caller couldn't see? He could have been rolling his eyes and grimacing the whole time he was delivering polite apologies, as I probably would have - but instead, he had not only sounded but looked deeply grateful. I wasn't sure if the visual effect was strategic (his voice would not have sounded right without the physical gesture) or reflexive (he didn't even know that he was bowing).
I know that physical gestures are arbitrary codes and symbols in any culture. Handshakes and hugs are not the only expressions of good will. Still, some gestures and "body language" signals seem natural, instinctive, universal. Even a dog will shake hands; my cats tap my face with their paws or jump on my shoulder and rub their heads against my face when they want my attention. There is some universal urge - human and animal - to reach out and touch hands (or paws) and faces as expressions of affection and good will. Bowing seems a little more abstract, a little further removed from the physical or instinctual. You can train a dog to shake hands, to sit, to retrieve balls, even to sing on command; gorillas have been taught to use computer keyboard or to sign for words. Though perhaps it is possible, I cannot imagine Koko and Michael bowing to each other.

Kyoko Mori, Polite Lies

Thursday, 12 April 2012

Black, White, and Colour

We all know at least one person who goes around calling everything gay. Gay this, gay that. It's especially irritating when the situation or object in question doesn't even have a gender. Seatbelt stuck? Gay. Locker won't open? Gay. And those famous ones that have about zero relation to being gay. The school is holding a history contest? Gay.
Whether you go along with it or are repulsed by it, everybody knows what "gay" means in this context. In some situations, the word is correctly used to describe a person or activity that is regarded as homosexual. But due to over-usage by some moron, who gave it international popularity, the word is often misused and carries a different meaning, which could be summed up in a few words: ridiculous, stupid, useless, wrong, and dumb. We all know what those people are trying to say. But society needs another word, this is getting old. Don't you think it's a tiny bit offensive to actual gay people if we describe everything we don't like or think is stupid as gay?
I sometimes wonder what the world will be like after gay marriage is legalized. Yes, I said "when", not "if", because by the looks of it - New York legalization, thousands of parades - it's guaranteed to happen. A hundred years ago, a conversation between a black man and a white woman was unthinkable, let alone a marriage between the two. Now, interracial marriages are as common as those of the same race. Though personally, I cannot fully support or stand against gay marriage because I don't know what it's like to be gay. If I loved someone and wanted to marry them, I would go to any length to make that possible, no matter what society says. But I'm not sure how natural it really is. With this, there can be countless arguments for both sides. One that I find powerful is that homosexuality is found in over 1,500 animal species. Ironically, it is very uncommon that individual animals continue to exclude heterosexual activities and seek same-sex partners. Homosexual behaviour can be found fairly easily throughout the animal kingdom but homosexual orientation is rare - simply speaking, they are one-night stands. But does this apply to the human race?
Being Christian, I should believe that being gay is a sin. I don't, same as I don't believe premarital sex is a sin. But Jesus said, "Love your neighbor as yourself." (Mark 12:36). He didn't say "unless they're gay", did he now. Honestly, here are so many contradictions and things that don't make sense in the Bible that the way I see it, the wisest thing to do it not to follow blindly, but to use your own brain and judge for yourself, because you were given the ability to think, not trail behind your master's cloak like a dog.
The American and Canadian schooling systems are also filled with contradictions. From an early age, educators beat into children's heads that "being gay is okay". However, when it comes to legalizing gay marriage (since it's fine, right?), some of them suddenly flare up and start protesting, saying how gay couples are destroying the traditional concept of marriage and family, how other children will be influenced by kids who have same-sex parents, and so on.
It all comes back to a simple question - are people born gay or do they choose to be gay? If being sexually attracted to the same gender is in-born, it could be compared to being born a certain race, couldn't it? No one can change their skin colour, and no one can change their sexual orientation.

Wednesday, 11 April 2012

A Year in Quotations: 19/365



"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love."
                                                                  
Dr. Seuss

Monday, 9 April 2012

Hakuna Matata

Feeling inexplicably happy and being reminded of the child I used to be (and still am inside), I searched up some favorite Disney movies and hummed along with the soundtracks. Yes, it was childish. So what? It's good to stop and smell the cotton candy once in a while. Especially that now, we can really grasp the messages that were aimed at us as children. The movies were made for kids, but written and produced by adults, who think along the same basic lines as we do now and have had the same milestones as us. The belief that magic exists has faded now that we are older, but the lessons of the stories remain the same: follow your heart, keep things in perspective, build your trust, accept yourself, action always trumps inaction, and sacrifice for love. Disney has instilled valuable lessons in each of us, with the hope that they will come in useful daily.


I didn't grow up living and breathing Disney. I never liked the Princesses, which were the main characters of many Disney movies at the time. I would take animals over humans any day, so I refused to watch any lovey-dovey romance stories. From age 4, I was completely absorbed with the funny, violent cartoon Tom & Jerry, so I didn't pay as much attention to Disney as other kids. However, I loved The Lion King, and later, Ariel became the only Princess I could stand. Now that I think about it, if I had given the other Princesses a chance, I might have turned out quite differently - girlish instead of sprinkled with tomboyishness. I'm glad I didn't follow the well-beaten path many girls took.

Boy, oh boy. Wouldn't I love to have one of these. Did you read this in his voice?  ^_^

My relationship with Disney is rather complicated - I know the stories although I have never watched the movies; I remember the lyrics and the melody even if I have only heard the song twice; I didn't love the characters as a child but I feel some sort of longing heartache when I see them.
Although I never had an intimate connection with Disney, I still feel like it was a big part of my childhood. However, the children who are growing up now will never have the opportunity to develop such a connection. Walking into a family home now, you will find movies like Dora, Alvin and the Chipmunks, Barbie, Chicken Run, and Shrek. What does Dora teach kids? How to say "backpack" in Spanish?  What about Barbie? That pretty girls are blonde, with a tiny waist and freakishly thin legs? Welcome to a world where the beauty of women is defined by how many ribs you can count.
Even the new Disney movies aren't the same. They still carry some decent messages, but it doesn't compare to the magic of those before 2000. I'm truly glad my generation is growing up in this exact time frame, with good old Disney behind us and exciting new Apple in front. This is a great time.

Chapter 6. Bodies

When I visited Mrs. Kuzuha, I was already feeling unsure about my own marriage. After I got back to Green Bay, I often thought about my conversation with her. I kept remembering my mother's funeral - the large bouquets of yellow chrysanthemums, the white incense smoke, the black and white drapery signaling death. Surrounded by these colors of mourning, Mrs. Kuzuha and I made the exact same resolution. Seeing my mother in the coffin, I, too, had said to myself: I will never depend of any man to make me happy, I will be happy on my own. I was twelve then. I planned to never marry.
Twenty-four years later, I was married to a perfectly nice man. We had promised to make each other happy. And yet when we started disagreeing about where to live or how to spend our time together, I couldn't try to work out our differences because I had never put aside my resolution from 1969. Even though I was married, I still considered myself to be on my own: I didn't want to give up anything for anyone else - nor did I expect anyone to give up anything for me. Married or single, I believed, all of us are basically on our own through life.
"Nothing against my husband personally," I often said to friends, "but I don't ever want my marriage to be the most important thing in my life. I would have been just as happy if I had never married him. My life would have been different but as good."
It was, I had to admit, an odd thing for a married person to say. I wondered if Chuck ever felt hurt to hear me say it. Many of the statements I made, I began to realize, must have sounded insensitive, even though I had only meant to be honest. When Chuck bought a motorcycle, I told him - and all my friends - that I was never going to ride on it because one of my childhood friends had died in a motorcycle accident and I had vowed never to drive or ride on one. When one of my friends asked me, "So how can you let your husband drive his motorcycle?" I answered, "I don't think it's my place to make decisions for him. He's an adult. He can make up his own mind. What he does is absolutely none of my business." What I said was fair - I expected to give and receive a lot of freedom - but in a way, I was saying that he was free to hurt himself or even die.

Kyoko Mori, Polite Lies

Sunday, 8 April 2012

Saturday, 7 April 2012

Electric Heart: Jonghyun


Don't you dare slobber all over him, flea bag.


   Happy 22nd, Bling Bling!! You blessed boy. Take care of
   that gorgeous voicebox.
   Note: Jonghyun's birthday is actually on April 8th, but it's
   already tomorrow in Korea.

   What am I listening to: Ready or Not (SHINee)
   What am I thinking of: he was born on Easter! Awww..
   What I should be doing: sorting clean laundry
   What I want to do: play guitar well! must. practice.

Friday, 6 April 2012

Not just sushi

The reason why people enjoy going to MacDonald's is partially due to the fact that while they are there, nostalgic feelings of happiness are brought back to them - perhaps they ate there as a child and remember the Happy Meals, or they went there with friends, or celebrated birthday parties with the colourful clowns. I feel that when I am in MacDonald's as well (I also feel the heartburn after all that grease). However, to me, Sushi Garden is a lot more special than MacDonald's.
I was a couple of months away from turning 10 when me and my mom moved to Vancouver. My aunt lived (and still lives) near the heart of Metrotown, a five-minute walk from Metropolis mall. We often visited her and went shopping, ending each of our joyful trips by stuffing ourselves at a fast-food restaurant. The one I remember most fondly is Sushi Garden across from the mall.
The tiny place is stacked with dark polished tables, hung with paintings of Japanese geisha and always, always crowded. When I eat there, I feel like I'm part of a huge family, all laughing and sharing stories. Small children, adults, teenagers, the elderly.. All kinds of people have crammed themselves into this small place caught between large stores, all seeking the same thing - delicious food and good company.

There's nothing outstanding about the comfort of the seats or the tableware or the decor, but the food is fantastic. Always fresh and served with care, it is prepared to perfection pretty fast (considering the amount of customers) and in portions that leave you satisfied but with room for mango ice-cream. The menu is considerably diverse, ranging from delicacies like Tako Yaki and Uni to well-known dishes such as Dynamite Roll and Salmon Sashimi. The service is nothing out of the ordinary, except that it moves fairly quickly, even with the wait for a table. The prices agree with any budget (a party of 3 can eat comfortably for under $60) and the food quality is always top-notch.

To me, Sushi Garden isn't just a place that can roll up a rice slab with cucumber, avocado, daikon sprouts, negi and soft shell crab, and call it a Spider Roll. It's so much more. It's a place where family, friends, and strangers gather around for some good food and a friendly smile.

What am I listening to: You're The Best In My Life (Lee Hyun)
What am I thinking of: why are the lyrics so goddamn tear jerking?
What I should be doing: homework. tomorrow.
What I want to do: stop crying  >_<

Thursday, 5 April 2012

Subconscious Chaos

I tend to associate songs with certain parts of my life. It's one of the things I admire about my brain. I can pick out nearly any song from my playlist and submerge myself in that particular time.
Today, as I was walking my dog around the neighborhood - earphones in as usual - I decided to listen to "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane. I was reminded of the gorgeous summer days I spent walking to summer school in my white ballet tights and jean shorts; the long, dull lessons, injected with fun chat breaks; the breeze in my hair and the sun on my legs; the dark evenings I spent reading Harry Potter on the balcony; the bowls of vanilla ice-cream I cleared; the amazingly fun lifeguard lessons I attended; my instructor, who made us do push-ups each time we forgot to plug the nostrils; how he passed me even though I couldn't touch the bottom of the pool; how he bought me a pack of fried chicken when I forgot my lunch; the shocked expressions on everyone's faces when they learned that I audited the summer school course; the boy who sat beside me; the childish happiness I felt when I saw Winnie the Pooh with my friend and her little sister; the nights I spent standing by the window just because the soft breeze was so gentle on my face. All those things are, for me, represented in this song.

Tuesday, 3 April 2012

Our Hearts are Torn

(I hope) I don't post too often about things that only I find interesting, but this is an exception.
My God, I love this song. Not because it relates to anything in my life at the moment, but because I can recall the feeling, and it absorbs me completely. The music, the style, the lyrics, the tone, everything is perfect. Everytime I listen to it, I feel the heartache.

"And when I close my eyes, I pray we'll see it through"

It gets better. Sungha made me cry. Again.
I will keep trying to play this song as soulfully as he does until the day I die.



I need to stop listening to these twenty times a day, this inexplicable sadness isn't going to end well..


Sunday, 1 April 2012

What is a gift?

Logging on to Yahoo! mail, preparing to finish my Planning project. Briefly glancing over the news row, typing in the website address. Brushing off tiles such as "Homes Inspired by Nature" and "Hilary Duff's post-baby Body", wondering why the latter would be of any interest to anyone. Catching my eye on a black-and-white picture of an old woman. Thinking it's an appeal from a company to donate for the end of starvation or poverty. Reading the one-sentence description. Clicking on link. Dropping jaw.

"NVA6"
"After"












 -
"To an untrained eye, these pictures would look nothing more than standard photographs, but it's not all black and white - they are in fact hand drawn. These are the works of 47-year-old hyperrealist artist Paul Cadden, who, often just using a pencil, is able to recreate photos in amazing detail." -Yahoo! mail

I don't understand. I don't understand at all. Why are colour blobs hanging on the walls of New York art museums while this man isn't given the honour to an English Wikipedia page. Why.