Isn't it beautiful?

Hello Moto. MOTOROLLA RAZR I love you. You are so pretty with your sleek flippable screen, colour display, illuminated keypad and colour selection. I have to say that this is the first cell phone that has ever impressed me in terms of its style. I don't care much about any of the other specs (bluetooth, digi-cam, blah blah blah) because it is current in the bells and whistles department. My friend has one in pink. Do they make them in green to match my minipod?

For now I better make use of my seemingly shitty LG since I've only had it for one year. But when the time comes, I'm gonna getcha RAZR.

The heart desires

Have you ever wanted something (or someone) for so long and so bad...you would do anything to have it? Maybe it was something of vanity, of function, of vice. You want it, but something is holding you back from getting it, which only makes you want it more. After a time, the more you think about it, it becomes an obsession. You imagine what it would be like to get it, to have it, how much better your life would be with it. Although you think about it, you haven't seen it for a while and as the mind so often does, your memory of what it is has changed, perhaps made it better or way cooler in your mind than what it actually is. Even though you want it, you think you need it by now. Maybe it could make you more secure, happy, complete. Then the day comes, the opportunity arises when you can finally get it.

What's wrong you say? You find that once you have it, it's not really as good as you thought it would be. It doesn't feel, doesn't look, doesn't fit in as well as you had hoped. The excitement lasts for a little while, but then it wears off and now it sits uselessly neglected. You wonder what all the fuss was about to begin with.

C'est domage.

All is right with the world again

I'm all set to move. Moving into a new condo this year proved to be much harder than last year. Last year I felt like the condo practically fell into my lap. With many listings to choose from, it only took one trip to Toronto on a weekend, and I had found the place I wanted. This year it took quite a bit more work to find a place. Many of the websites that I had counted on last year had very few desirable listings this year. I had very few to choose from, and those that appeared to have the right physical location and suitable layout were out of my price range. On top of that, I felt as though I did most of the work to find it--my roommate sat on the sidelines. But I think that that is a minor detail, given that I am pretty picky about what I want. Long story short, I found a place that is way too nice for the student furniture that we now possess. AAAANNNNNDDDDD...I signed my OWN lease!!! It might seem like a very small achievement, but it certainly makes me feel grown up! I don't care what anyone says. Pretty well compared to people my age, my independence is retarded by about 4 years, having lived at home all throughout undergrad. That means food, shelter and finances were always taken care of.

On Monday, I don't believe I have been more frustrated than I have in a couple of years. Post-packing, the last thing to get in order for my move was a moving vehicle. A minivan was the most suitable thing, but since I don't own one I called around to many many places. I didn't realize how complicated such a task would be. Firstly, why is it that everyone needs a minivan that Saturday?? Does each company only stock one or two vans? It was hard to find a place that even had vans to rent. Then, it was time to shop around for a price. Each time I called another place, it was more expensive than the last. Up and up the price went. When I decided to call back the cheapest place, they told me that the price increased!!! Nobody could tell me if it had stow-and-go. And finally I had to find a place that was open on Sunday so that I could return the van without being charged an extra day. I think I made about 25 calls...probably tore out a lot of hair, and freaked out my mom when I started screaming and cursing at the air. You do not want to see an angry Lesley.

Thankfully I was able to book a minivan. I didn't get the cheapest one, but I did the best I could. I feel a bit ripped off, but I at least had the choice between one that cost $109 and another that cost $112! What a savings.

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The funniest thing! I was telling my friend that when I went to Chinatown I bought some cheap fruits. When she asked what kinds I got, I told her strawberries, cherries and lychees. But when I said lychees, I Chinafied it and pronounced it LIE-CHEES. She promptly repeated what I said..."LIE-CHEES??" as if to point out that I had pronounced it wrong. "It's LEE-CHEES!" Said this Jewish-Canadian girl to a Chinese-Canadian. Hahahahaha...then I told her that it was the correct Cantonese way of saying it. Of all things, you don't correct a Chinese person on how to say a Chinese fruit!!!

Who you calling Banana?

At work the other day, I was observing a physiotherapist at the hospital. She was doing some walking exercises with a Chinese female patient. It is not uncommon for family members to be present at many of the therapy sessions that patients get because they visit often and accompany the patients throughout their day. This was the case for this patient. Her mother came in halfway through the therapy, happily greeting the patient. The mother brought with her a friend, and as is customary for Asian people who see other Asian people around, the friend saw me and right away addressed me. Only she spoke in Mandarin. So I said very politely, "Sorry ma'am, I don't speak Mandarin." Then the dialogue goes as follows:

Her: What? You don't speak Chinese? *tsk*
Me: No I don't.
Her: What do you speak?
Me: I speak English.
Her: You're not Chinese.
Me: Yes I am.
Her: No you're not.
Me: Yes. I am.
Her: Why don't you speak Chinese?
Me: I grew up in London, Ontario. (jokingly)
Her: Oh. You're a banana. *looks at me disapprovingly*
Me: What?
Her: Yes you're a banana. I have two at home. I'm not even Chinese, I just married Chinese.

For those of you who don't know, a banana is yellow on the outside, white on the inside. It's an analogous term to the oreo (black/brown on the outside, white on the inside), and can also be connoted by a twinkie. Was I offended? You betcha. It's one thing to hear it from a friend who is joking around, but it's another to hear it from a perfect stranger who feels much frustration with her own kids such that she has to take it out on me. If a friend were to make the same comment, which in that case, it would be a joke, I would laugh about it. Sure it's a double standard, but humour comes in many forms!

I don't think she meant it to be a personal attack so much as her feeling it was her duty to preserve the culture. But she made a personal comment to me, a complete stranger, and not even in a joking way. (We have all been victims at some point to backhanded verbal badgery.) She doesn't even know me and for her to pass judgment like that, I thought it cruel and unusual punishment. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a bitter girl. I'm just shocked that I had to endure a racial comment like that from my own supposed kind. Even she wasn't of Chinese descent! This begs the question, what is Chinese, what is any culture?

I was offended because she has this wrong perception of me. I grew up in Canada, for God's sakes, what do you expect? Call me whatever you want, but I am an individual. I am who I am; not defined as yellow, white or any other colour. And for you to find out who I am, get to know me before you judge me.

I didn't think this posting would turn out to be a rant, but I guess I have been on the receiving end of far too many disapproving eyes from strangers. In the end though, it's a pretty funny story. My friend laughed his ass off when I told him this story. Then he called me a Flakey (because I'm sweet of course!).

Richard Simmons lives in me

I've been working out rather regularly these days. Or at least I've tried to maintain some sort of impetus to wanting to exercise, notwithstanding the break that I had to take in order to find a new condo (pat myself on the back). Usually when I'm too tired or bored of going to the gym to do weights, I'll at least go for a run ie a 4km stretch along busy Toronto streets. Working out and playing sports are completely different beasts. I love playing sports, having the competitive spirit, a goal to reach for, the technical aspect, the never-ending quest for self-improvement, and the fun with teammates. Being in the gym is like a chore. But I find that I'm enjoying the gym more and more as long as I incorporate some variety. The classes have been pretty good...they are challenging and I'm able to push myself because you look like a dumbass when you're trying to cheat on the exercises with other people around. Even if they aren't looking at you, their presence makes it harder to give up. When I run on the track I play games with people. I find someone who runs at a faster pace than I do and I let them gain a good lead for about 7-8 laps, then when I'm ready to pick up the pace, I play catch-up. I imagine that I'm in a race and there's 200 metres to go to the finish line...time to bring on the sprint and my goal is to pass this person before the end. When I pass the person, I do a victory dance and say "booyah, in your face sucka!".....in my head! When I'm doing weights I try not to make stupid faces, you know the ones where you scrunch your nose and squeeze your lips together. I'm a woman, and no matter what I'm doing, I gotta look good! haha. Or maybe I'm just not pushing myself as hard as I could. Anyhow, I tried the Stairmaster for the first time today and in 15 minutes, I worked off 68 Calories! In related news, I looked up a Coconut Macaroon recipe to use up some left-over coconut shreds. The energy intake, 74 Calories. That's for one cookie.

A little about myself: I can never eat just one cookie. This whole exercise thing is futile.

Do you wonder if I'm still alive? Yeah, me too.