After a little prompting from Becky, I have decided to bite the bullet and post about my trip to Asia.  It was a very hectic three weeks, courtesy of our (in retrospect) overly ambitious itinerary, but we did manage to see Hong Kong, Macau, Thailand, Malaysia, and Singapore.  So the sleep deprivation, rumpled clothing, perpetual packing and unpacking and in my case, constant confusion as to what time or day it was, was completely worth it in the end. 

Hong Kong

Until recently, I'd never had much of an inclination to visit Hong Kong, despite being the daughter of two born and bred Hong Kongers.  For better or worse, I'm whitewashed, a juk sing who never had another Asian in her class until high school.  Never had an interest in the fobby stuff, never had Sanrio/Hello Kitty school supplies, can't even enter Pacific Mall without feeling claustrophobic and on sensory overload.  My chopstick skills are worse than a lot of non-Asian people (though that might also be because my hand-eye coordination sucks).  

And yet, I'm really grateful my cousin strong-armed me into planning an Asia trip.  For once, I was in the majority (Life Sciences at U of T notwithstanding)!  And despite clearly looking like a non-native (while unpacking, my aunt promptly dismissed the entire contents of my suitcase as too scandalous for Hong Kong due to the apparently high number of perverted men), speaking like a non-native (salespeople would promptly address me in English, or tell me they'd use really really basic Cantonese), and feeling like a non-native (marveling at the crush of humanity in every corner of the city), it was so interesting to see where my roots lie.

My cousins and I stayed with my aunt, uncle, and 2 cousins.  They live in Homantin, and the flat has pretty good view of the amazing Hong Kong skyline.  I've never seen such a vertical city.  And the juxtaposition between old and new - you'd have shiny, glassy skyscrapers on Hong Kong Island and then traditional temples, decrepit residential buildings, and junks floating around the harbour. 



Some older style ferries in the harbour.




I was really surprised to find that despite being such an urban, skyscraper heavy place, there's actually a huge amount of green space.  Miles and miles of hilly forests.





i.

We rode on the tram, locally known as a ding ding (I guess because that's the sound it makes when you ring the bell to get off?) one day, just for the hell of it.  No set destination; we just hopped on one that said Happy Valley on the front, because it sounded more promising than some of the other places.  It turns out that Happy Valley is where the racetrack and ergo, the betting is.  Although if the tram was headed out to a place called Misery Mountain, it'd be even more cool than Happy Valley, because hey, you have to see what makes the mountain so miserable.  The tramway system has been operating since 1904, and every single tram is a double-decker.  All in all a very Hong Kong thing to experience.  This was also the day that I got checked out by a very unsubtle bus driver.  Who kept driving as his eyes kept wandering.  No wonder my aunt tried to censor my wardrobe.  Though I must stress that everything I brought on hols with me is practically fit for work by North American standards.  





We took a tram up to The Peak and saw this fantastic night view.  



Because I am me though, the weather gods didn't smile on us the days we actually had weather dependent activities.  The day we went up to see Tian Tan Buddha, there was a typhoon signal posted:




And the fastest way to get up to the island is via cable car.  A glass cable car.  With a glass bottom.  Clearly typhoons and tiny enclosed cars 
suspended by tiny little cables are a natural combination.







At least the view was worth it.  Walking up the steps (268!), made especially slippery and slick because of the rain, you reach the base of the seated bronze Buddha.  The sheer size is awe inspiring.  In the end, I think the poor weather actually improved the experience.  The statue is supposed to symbolize the relationship between man and nature, and watching the mist and clouds roll over the green mountains as sheets of rain slanted from the dark skies,  and listening to the wind blowing through the tree branches, I was much more attuned to nature than had it been 35 degrees and blindingly sunny. 













Anyways, enough of this monster post.  I'll add stuff about the other places later. 



 

For some random reason, that line (the post title), has been stuck in my head since work once I've finally worked up the motivation to post an update.  I don't mean to imply that brides in general are frightening beasts (although some of them undoubtedly are.  Have you guys seen that clip with brides who storm a bridal gown sale like anarchy is going out of style?  Not that I should talk.  I did, after all, line up outside H&M last year for the Roberto Cavalli sale.  Which did *not* result in any tramplings.).  Especially since my friend, whose bachelorette I attended last Saturday, is about the most lovely, relaxed, and easy-going bride ever.  It's just that I've never run into so many other bachelorettes before  I guess it's wedding season though.

And apparently, the restaurant where we ate -- The Sultan's Tent -- is incredibly popular with the 20something pre-wedding set.  It's actually a very sumptuous looking place, complete with colourful silk curtains made to look like tents, dark exotic woods, dim lighting, and about a bajillion throw pillows, so I can see how it sets the mood for an evening of debauchery.  The food is quite good, but the main attraction would definitely be the belly dancers that come half-way through dinner.  We were forewarned by our waiter that the show would be rather interactive, and sure enough, they started inviting guests to try belly-dancing 101.  And my friend, who was not exactly inconspicuous in her hot pink boa and rhinestone tiara (that has flashing lights! Yes, I was the one who bought it.  Oooh! Shiny!), was of course singled out to join in, which she gamely did.  And now we have even more pictures to use in the wedding slideshow, which I'm sure she appreciates wholeheartedly.  Just as much as all the dares we made her do later on at the club.  (So Pebsie, be prepared to finally flirt with a waitress/dance on a tabletop in a coconut bra/all the other ridonkulous stuff we've tried to make you do over the years at yours!)

Clubbing was actually really fun.  It didn't begin auspiciously (consisting mainly of driving aimlessly around the clubbing district trying to decide which one to go into -- we had a near miss with Crocodile Rock, which I'm told is a notorious cougar bar).  We finally decided on the C Lounge because a) one of the girls had spent a long time carefully parallel parking behind a BMW and we didn't want to waste her effort and b) a bus stopped in front, depositing guys in their late 20s/early 30s.  Pretty much as soon as we got there, a few guys came out to congratulate her.  They were super nice guys, and ended up buying us shots for the rest of the night.  After that, it was pretty easy for my friend to cross her dares off the list (including slapping asses, kissing bald heads, getting guys to take off their clothes, etc.).  Heh.  Good times, good times.  Bachelorettes.  The one time when girls acting like douchey guys is not only acceptable, but encouraged! 

Anyhoos, I'm off to make dinner!  On a totally unrelated note, have you guys seen this?



I'm not lying when I say that if I were a parent, I would totally do this to my kids.

If anyone has some spare time, I'd recommend the programme Child Genius on TVO.  It's downloadable off the website, but I believe only the first episode is available at this time.  It's an interesting look at the life of British child prodigies, and is guaranteed to make you feel rather slow and inadequate in comparison, especially when one's 25 year old brain can't even calculate 3 to the power of 4 without wincing, while a 6 year old blithely rattles off the answer of 3 to the power of 8 in a few seconds.  I know that "damaging to one's self-esteem" isn't a typical reason to recommend something, but do watch it to be boggled by the human brain and for the utter precociousness of a child who describes some sort of food as being an "ambassador for chestnuts".  

Hello my chickadees!  Here are both recipes for the lime cupcakes and the Aussie chicken.

Lime Cupcakes (adapted from Martha Stewart's Everyday Food)

• 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for muffin tin
• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for muffin tin
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup vanilla yogurt (I use Balkan style with honey)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• Zest of 2 limes, finely grated, plus juice, plus a few squirts more for the Amaretto icing
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs
• Icing - icing sugar, about 1/4 cup butter, Amaretto

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter and flour a 6-cup jumbo muffin tin. In a medium bowl, whisk the flour with the baking powder and salt. In a small bowl, whisk together the yogurt, vanilla, and lime zest and juice of 2 limes. Set aside.
2. With an electric mixer, cream butter and granulated sugar until light. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. With mixer on low speed, add flour mixture in three batches, alternating with two additions of buttermilk mixture.
3. Divide evenly among muffin cups. Bake until a toothpick inserted in center of a cake comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes. Cool 10 minutes in tin, then cool completely on a rack.
4. Cream 1/4 cup butter with icing sugar until smooth.  Add a splash of Amaretto and lime juice to taste (not too much, or it will separate).  Frost cupcakes.

Aussie Chicken -I'm not sure if this will put Becky off Aussie chicken, or Becky onto mayo...

• 4 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves - pounded to 1/2 inch thickness
• 2 teaspoons seasoning salt
• 6 slices bacon, cut in half
• 1/2 cup prepared yellow mustard
• 1/2 cup honey
• 1/4 cup light corn syrup
• 1/4 cup mayonnaise
• 1 tablespoon dried onion flakes
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• 1 cup sliced fresh mushrooms
• 2 cups shredded Colby-Monterey Jack cheese
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

DIRECTIONS

1. Rub the chicken breasts with the seasoning salt, cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes.
2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Place bacon in a large, deep skillet. Cook over medium high heat until crisp. Set aside.
3. In a medium bowl, combine the mustard, honey, corn syrup, mayonnaise and dried onion flakes. Remove half of sauce, cover and refrigerate to serve later.
4. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Place the breasts in the skillet and saute for 3 to 5 minutes per side, or until browned. Remove from skillet and place the breasts into a 9x13 inch baking dish. Apply the honey mustard sauce to each breast, then layer each breast with mushrooms and bacon. Sprinkle top with shredded cheese.
5. Bake in preheated oven for 15 minutes, or until cheese is melted and chicken juices run clear. Garnish with parsley and serve with the reserved honey mustard sauce.

The Big Read reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they've printed."
1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you LOVE.
4) Reprint this list in your own LJ so we can try and track down these people who've read 6 and force books upon them.

1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6. The Bible – Errr...parts from religion class? 
7. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9. His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11. Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12. Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14. Complete Works of Shakespeare - part of me says "Must read and be cultured" and the other says "Nooooo...Elizabethan english?"
15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16. The Hobbit JRR Tolkien
17. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18. Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19. The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20. Middlemarch - George Eliot
21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25. The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy - It's supposed to be very depressing right?  I'm in.
32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis - I used to love the series as a kid.  Now, I can enjoy it only if I try to forget I'm being thumped over the head with his religious views. 
34. Emma - Jane Austen
35. Persuasion - Jane Austen
36. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis – Why is this on here as well as the Chronicle’s of Narnia? I’m confused.  (Agreed)
37. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini - Heard it was very good. 
38. Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40. Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne - Whee!  The original works were so much better than the silly, saccharine Disney versions.
41. Animal Farm - George Orwell
42. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46. Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49. Lord of the Flies - William Golding - I'm going to have to disagree thoroughly with May and say that I tend to agree with Golding's view of humanity.  Thought-provoking.  Loved it!
50. Atonement - Ian McEwan - Cried while reading on the train. 
51. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52. Dune - Frank Herbert
53. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens - I admit it, I had a literary crush on Sydney Carton. 
58. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63. The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68. Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
69. Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70. Moby Dick - Herman Melville - Like Becky, I read an illustrated children's version.  Doesn't count, I suppose. 
71. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72. Dracula - Bram Stoker
73. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75. Ulysses - James Joyce
76. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78. Germinal - Emile Zola
79. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80. Possession - AS Byatt
81. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87. Charlotte's Web - EB White
88. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery - I'm tearing up just thinking about it. 
93. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94. Watership Down - Richard Adams - Err...I vaguely remember watching the animated version half-heartedly on the last day of school in Grade 7. 
95. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98. Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl
100. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

32...or 33.... I keep getting either count.  Yes, I don't like numbers today. 

I'm going to follow Amber's example from a few months ago and make a clubbing post. Yes, I'm being a bit unoriginal here, but it has more to do with the fact that I lead a rather dull existence than a general lack of imagination on my part.

The thing about clubbing for me is that it's fun in theory (friends, music, alcohol) but significantly less so in reality. Or to be more accurate, there are aspects of clubbing that are enjoyable (again, friends, music, alcohol) and aspects that are so unenjoyable, they fall off the spectrum of unenjoyable and land somewhere near the borders of dislike, distaste, and along the coast of general ick.

It's been ages since I last went clubbing (London, with Amber et al), which probably explains why I was so keen to go clubbing again this Saturday. I spent the weekend with my high school girls (minus May, whom I don't consider to be a part of my high school life, since in all fairness, she was a year behind me and consequently an unknown factor - I jest, I jest!), which was mostly a great time. We booked a room in the Marriott, squeezed 5 people in a room with 2 double beds, and constructed a rather serviceable bed out of an extra duvet and a mountain of pillows. We had Thai food for dinner, and gave my friend a crash course in chopstick usage (I was uninvolved in said lesson, clearly). There was quite a bit of booze and quite a bit of boobs (again, not mine) and quite a bit of stupid pictures in our room. Some cute boys were down the hall, and they jokingly asked us if we were coming out with them that night - we ran into them again the next morning, and one of the guys jokingly berated us for not being there, since he couldn't get into his room.

Skip ahead to the club. Much like Amber's story, it's mainly the guys that make clubbing so thoroughly unappealing. For instance, Exhibit A - the guy who staggered past me, slurred "I love you" and caressed my face. There was the guy who, in trying to squeeze by me, ended up with his hand on my waist and for a lot longer than necessary. There was also the guy who grabbed me from behind, and started dancing/groping/manhandling me. I had drank enough that I wasn't really using my best judgement and wasn't telling him to get the fuck away, but not enough to make me want to continue dancing. Consequently, I had to get rescued on 2 separate occasions by my friends. There was also his sleazy wingman, who was trying to distract my friends from saving me, and who also followed us to the bar to buy us drinks when we tried to escape (we refused). I've showered four times since Saturday, and still feel gross. Needless to say, I'm going to try to avoid clubbing in the near future. And to stay away from too much alcohol, since surprise, surprise - it makes me act like a bloody idiot. Lesson learned. And I'm going to take a shower now.

On an entirely unrelated note, I just noticed those ads that livejournal links to. I understand all the pharmacy related sites, but what's up with the meet black singles site? Has the internet somehow sensed my impending spinsterhood and is sending out pre-emptive hints?

I kept meaning to post after I read Becky's Canada Day entry, but then I started to watch Casino Royale and promptly forgot about the whole posting thing. Which happens quite frequently for me (posting, not watching Casino Royale) and the whole updating process becomes rather futile once things have gotten out of date because you've forgotten to post in the first place. Especially when one was going to post about a holiday that has already sadly passed with nary an alcoholic beverage in sight, or a single anthem in earshot. So Happy Belated Birthday Canada! You were celebrated in a rather Canadian manner - that is, not really celebrated at all. But I'm thankful for living in a relatively peaceful, prosperous, and tolerant nation.

My cousins from Holland just spent June at my house, and we were talking about politics and social issues in our respective countries. In Holland, of course, one of the biggest concerns is Muslim-Dutch relations. I've generally always had the impression that the Netherlands is a famously tolerant and laid back country (opinions not solely based on my experiences in Amsterdam, although the general smell of pot wafting through the air in certain quarters helps), but my cousins told me that there's a lot of tension between the native Dutch and the largely Muslim immigrants from Turkey and Morocco. A lot of it revolves around employment and welfare and such, rather than strictly religious differences, and thus the situation in Holland involves a lot of the same anti-immigration sentiments found throughout the world. Now I know that the same attitudes are present in Canada (both historically and currently), but it just doesn't seem to be such a huge problem in Canada as elsewhere. We Canadians always pride ourselves on our multiculturalism and our tolerances, but sometimes I don't know if it's because we are so very tolerant and multicultural, or if we've rather convinced ourselves that we are instead.

While I'm (somewhat) on the topic of race relations, I've been rather ethnically ambiguous recently. Several people at work and one at school have inquired as to my background, telling me I don't quite look Chinese. Indeed, one patient actually asked me if I was the owner's daughter - the owner being of obvious English/Canadian stock. I don't think adopting Asian babies was as much in vogue twentysomething years ago, so chalk it up to my random genes I guess. It doesn't stop the Asian boys apparently, since our Asian tour guide on a trip my cousins and I went on, spent a lot of the time hitting on me. He even gave our room an extra morning call, but thankfully, I was in the bathroom and thus did not answer the phone at all. Oh Asian boys.

Also, I'm happy to say that I passed my qualifying exam and will not have to suffer the humiliation of losing the contract, telling everyone at work I failed, and having to rewrite in November. Yay!

Ugh. 14 hours of testing and the last 4 years of my life at school. The past 3 weeks have been the most boring yet panicky hours of my life, parked in front of several feet of loose notes and an ever-growing pile of empty mini rice cake bags. I left my house only once to go to a doctor's appointment, and spent the remainder of my time bumming about in uncoordinated and marginally wearable clothes and developing what seems to be a stage I pressure ulcer from sitting so long. As for the exams themselves, I have no idea how they went. The reassuring thing about the written portion is that everyone comes out feeling rather befuddled and shell-shocked, so we're all in the same boat at the very least. The second thing is that those previous feelings are easily treated with alcohol, and given that you can't spit without hitting a pub or bar near the university, I felt much better after lunch. Our waiter at O'Grady's was much amused that I was outdrinking the guys, but there's nothing wrong with starting with hard liquor at 1 in the afternoon. Especially after a demoralizing exam.

I know for a fact that the OSCEs could have been better, especially since my head had been throbbing all day. I felt marginally OK during the actual standardized patients, but as soon as I left the exam and got into the car, I felt absolutely shitty. Like threw up in the car, pounding headache, malaise, chills, fever, the whole nine yards shitty. And then after 3 hours of this I was completely OK again. I have no idea what that was, but I'm just glad it didn't happen 6 hours earlier that day. So now, I'm just counting down until the results come out. I really hope I passed. I don't think I can take another round of studying, not to mention the whole losing of the job contract, and the humiliating prospect of having to do the whole process again in November.

Another piece rescued from the basement. It's a "letter of reference" written by one of my favourite teachers in high school for one of the scholarships I was applying for. Completely fictional, I hasten to add, but also quite hilarious. Picture this on my high school letterhead, very official looking, with a signature and stamp. I'd scan it in, but the scanner is out of commission.

*********

To Whom It May Concern:

I am very pleased to write this letter in support of Joyce's application to your scholarship. However, in good conscience, I must state several reservations.

Joyce is prone to bouts of extreme emotional instability ranging from hysterical laughter to uncontrollable sobbing, often within the same class period. She has made threats to my person and property. Although recent medical therapy has alleviated some of the symptoms, they have introduced new ones, namely an inability to count and entering catatonic states.

Her entire academic record is bogus, and is the direct result of intimidation, black mail, and extortion of both staff and administration.

I have enclosed Joyce's yearbook picture. A picture is worth a thousand words. Should you require further information, contact anyone in Whitby.

(Insert ridiculous picture of me the morning after prom)

Sincerely,

Mr. ___________

****************

He did write a real one. Surprisingly, I sent that one instead.

In lieu of an actual post, I offer up a random, ridiculously BAD bit of writing, circa 1992, which my mother has managed to excavate from an old box hiding out in the basement. Warning: silliness, bad grammar, horrible naming of everything, and anatomically incorrect unicorns ensue.

The Circle of Fire

As Finahaair sat listening to the elders tell of the battle with the Giants and the wyverns, she fingered a necklace shining of the Mirror Moon. She was young, choosen (sic) by her father the King of the Lanains, to be initiated for a warrior (to be initiated to be a warrior?). To be part of the Circle of Fire, made by Alma the mother of all and the creator of the world. Alma the unicorn mare with one flick from her horn created the Northern Mountains, with a paw of her find (hind?) leg she raised the Waverlingly Hills, a stamp of her cloven hoof she made the forests and the Sea of the Moon. And now the Lanians her people and the unicorns were fighting for the Moon Plains which they had lost to the wyverns hundereds of years ago. She had not known how bu she recalled quite clearly the day before she an other to be initiated young Lanians had started to the Well of the Unicorns to be initiated. The Lanians were human-like except for one thing, they had the power to turn like a unicorn for a moment.

And on it goes until I clearly tired of writing about Finahaair and those damn unicorns.

So yeah. Not only did I construct dioramas of ancient Egyptian houses, I also wrote painfully bad and highly derivative fantasy short stories as a child. Such is the life of an only child.

Hello my pretties! I'm done my first rotation today and will be starting hospital on Wednesday. It should be quite interesting, given that I'm at the mental hospital - but of course, I'm trying to to prepare for my rotation by not automatically assume that it will be interesting because that would be stereotypical, and the last thing I need right now is to go in expecting sink fixtures to be yanked out of the wall by an angry (righteously angry?) man. Which I don't. I've visited the hospital a few months ago, and it's anything but institutional. The halls are filled with light from skylights every few feet, and huge pieces of artwork stretch across different levels below the skylights. I'm actually really excited to go - I feel a bit like Amber doing her surgery rotations, since there's so much to learn with mental diseases, and there's so much stigma to overcome. Funnily enough, an 0T7 who had my same rotation (and who is supposed to be crazy shy and apparently, easily frightened) came back to visit my TA, and was very nervous there because of a patient who went around making chomping noises and biting air all the time. And that, my dear, is the clincher - Pebble officially resides in the hospital but does not know it.

But what are the things that I have learned already in community? Not much that would interest my non-pharmacy friends. But I did learn this:
1) My name should be Grace, not Joyce. Three different people in this rotation have accidentally called me Grace on different occasions. The first week of pharmacy, people called me Grace and my friend Ivy, Joyce. At Michaels craftstore, the staff constantly called me Grace by mistake. So I'm just going to take it that my graceful comportment (ha!) is so apparent that people are compelled to call me Grace.
2) The makers of cough & cold medications are evil marketing geniuses who have convinced millions of people to buy their products, even though, generally speaking (and with the exception of decongestants) they are not much better than placebo.
3) The cough & cold aisle from henceforth will be known as the Pit of Doom, both for unnecessary multitude of products, and the fact that once you enter it, you will be trapped helping people select something for symptoms that if they just wait, will be better on its own.
4) People are wusses. I have never taken anything for a cough or cold, other than lozenges or acetaminophen for headache. It's a cold or the flu! You're going to feel crappy - get over it!
5) By washing one's hands repeatedly throughout the day, and by not touching your face - you really can prevent yourself from getting sick. Brava for the hand sanitizer!

So that's it for now!

So I was just posting about how my friend gets all the fun dealing with weird people in Toronto, and now I get my very own weird person story too. On Monday night at about 10ish, me and my TA were just standing there chatting about random stuff. An elderly black man came up to the dispensary and asked if he could speak to someone. My TA, being the actual pharmacist (and wearing a lab coat and thus obviously the pharmacist), asked him what he needed with. He said "I want to speak to her", which meant me, the only other person within a 20 foot radius. So then:
Me: OK....How can I help you?
Him: I want a thermometer.
Me: OK...they're over in aisle 6, on the right hand side. [I leave the dispensary and show him where they are. My TA follows]
Him: Do you know what the temperature is now outside?
Me: It's pretty cold. Probably about minus 20 or so.
Him: Yeah. That's cold. What's normal body temperature?
My TA: 90 degrees F or 37 degrees C.
Him: [looks at me] Is this true?
Me: Yes.
Him: So what happens when it's cold outside? Like hypothermia?
My TA: If your core body temperature drops by about 2 degrees, you can get hypothermic and go into shock.
Him: [looks at me] Is that right?
Me: Yes. [internally thinking Why the hell are you asking me? She's obviously the one who knows what she's talking about]
Him: So thermometers are pretty expensive huh? I'll come back tomorrow.


And that was probably the weirdest conversation I've had with a customer thus far.

Sunday afternoon and I'm trying to delay catching up on laundry, which will surely take the rest of the afternoon and drag into the evening as well. What sucks about working (besides the early hours, lack of sitting, and the possibility of being faced with doing the same thing for the next THIRTY years) is that I very rapidly go through a very narrow spectrum of my wardrobe, most of which must be conscientiously sorted, washed, and dried by colour and fabric instead of being tossed all at once into the washer, as I did for 5 years in residence. I've tried to solve the laundry dilemma by buying more clothes, but despite this, laundry seems to pile up even faster just to spite me.

I've signed a contract with Shoppers to do my 3 month internship and then a year of full-time employment afterwards. It gives me some sort of relief that I now know what's in store for me for the near future, especially since I was trying to decide between accepting an offer in Brighton or Oshawa. In the end, despite the much better offer from DRUGStore (tuition reimbursement, relocation fee, better pay, hours and working conditions), the fact that the location was extremely quiet and slow and would therefore offer little in the way of teaching me to work and counsel efficiently tipped me towards Oshawa. And of course, remaining somewhat near civilization helped also. So now, I'll hopefully be saving money because I'll be staying at home for 2 more years or so. If the housing gods look down favourably on me, the market will slow down and prices will drop enough so that I can afford a house downtown. I found an awesome restored "Gothic Victorian" single family home for the price of $849,000. Right. So make that the next 10 years.

My rotation itself has been quite interesting, if not a reinforcement of how little I have learned over the past 4 years that is actually applicable to real life. I don't have quite the same stories as Amber, mainly because as a pharmacist-in-training, I don't have quite the same degree of access to personal medical history and internal cavities as she does. Nevertheless, community pharmacy does offer a rather broad scope of medical conditions, from the ubiquitous URTI to ADHD, infertility, and Alzheimer's. What is rather alarming, or perhaps awkward, is that I see people from high school quite frequently and it feels as though I'm infringing into their private spheres, even though I've never actually counselled them or handled anything from their files, or even handed them a prescription at all. One of the pharmacists at the store is actually an 0T7, and he said that his friend in med school once had to do a PAP smear or something on a girl he met at a party, so that was all sorts of awkward so perhaps I should be thankful that pharmacy involves no touching or examining or anything like that at all.

My friend works downtown in the Queen Street area, so she's got a lot more of the eccentrics. They've got a few security guards instore, and a huge Wall of Shame with people who aren't allowed in the store because of shoplifting or disturbing the peace. They used to open late (as most Shoppers do), but now closes at 9 because the clientele gets progressively shadier with the passing hours. Yeah, I wouldn't want to be the closing pharmacist with the narcs safe either in that area. I automatically suspect people of shooting up whenever they come in to buy a small package of needles for "insulin", since diabetics would never just buy a pack of 10 at a time - it's way cheaper to buy in bulk. Of course, it doesn't help that most of these people just look like druggies right off the bat - inkempt, smelling vaguely of stale cigarettes and unwashed clothes. Addiction is a very sad disease.

So on that note, I'm off to do laundry. Keep well kiddies and don't do drugs.

It's a "What book are you quiz?" Since I am friends with book lovers, give it a whirl. Alas, I have no idea what this book is.

You're The Guns of August!

by Barbara Tuchman

Though you're interested in war, what you really want to know is what
causes war. You're out to expose imperialism, militarism, and nationalism for what they
really are. Nevertheless, you're always living in the past and have a hard time dealing
with what's going on today. You're also far more focused on Europe than anywhere else in
the world. A fitting motto for you might be "Guns do kill, but so can
diplomats."


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

It's been 10 weeks since my last post but I lack the proper sort of motivation keep up with regular updates on my life. Not that my life is so interesting that it requires anymore than the most sporadic of posting, but since I've been the recipient of a direct scolding from Amber and a pointed reminder from Becky, I shall give writing a try.

Travelling to Japan was a great experience. I haven't gotten around to posting pictures yet, but of course, that's largely expected of me. We - and there were 7 of us altogether - stayed mainly in Tokyo, but did venture out to Kyoto for 2 nights to see historic Japan. According to Lonely Planet, we were staying in the porn/sex area in the district of Ikebukuro, but when we arrived on Christmas night, there was nary a hooker or john in sight. My friend and her boyfriend did happen across some suspicious dark-suited men with walkie-talkies one night, but this was the extent of our encounter with the seedy underbelly of the city. This, despite our best efforts to walk in dark and narrow alleys during evening hours. For us anyways, Tokyo was an exceedingly safe experience.

It was marvelously clean. Everyone has their issues, and mine is definitely dirty bathrooms. Japanese bathrooms were ridiculously clean. Even the ones at the train stations, which thousands and thousands of people travel through daily, were clean and fresh smelling. And high tech. I'm proud to say that I managed to not accidentally press the "Clean bottom" button instead of "Flush" and thus did not receive any jet of water in the face. There was hardly any litter on the ground (except for the really touristy areas, in which case the Japanese remain blameless) and I think we saw graffiti twice. Twice. In a city that pulses with so much youth culture, it's practically expected that signs be toppled, pictures defaced, and public spaces be filled with loud, obnoxious adolescents. I mean, the subways were always filled with advertisements featuring scantily clad, underage looking girls! Yank a bunch of teens from Toronto, plop them into the Tokyo transit system, and in 2 hours time, dirty pictures, fake mustaches, and black unibrows would be cropping up all around the city. Totally not the case here. People are amazingly polite and considerate there. It was even OK that the only Japanese phrases we knew were "Do you speak English?" and "Where is 'blank'?" and "Thank you", because people had the patience to play charades with us half the time.

It was almost disconcerting how quiet the city was. Millions of people, and hardly a honk or an argument within hearing distance. Trains are punctuated only by the occasional sound of the doors opening and closing and a crisp female voice announcing the stops in Japanese and English. Most people fall asleep anyways, waking up with clock-like precision at every station stop, only to nod off about 2 seconds later.

Food was good also. On the second morning, we went to the Tsukijji Fish Market, which is probably one of the largest fish markets in the world, handling over 2,000 tonnes of seafood everyday. As one can expect from a fish market, it was rather wet underfoot and smelled strongly of the sea. It was also teeming with people, many of whom were probably annoyed by us as we tried to navigate the narrow and crowded maze between stalls without knocking into a) other people b) marine life and c) fish transport vehicles (which came from both directions without any regard for life, limb, or fin at speeds surely unwise for such a busy area, and which the locals were able to duck between fearlessly but caused us to fear for our lives). We ate breakfast in a tiny sushi restaurant in the market and despite the fact that I wasn't very keen on the idea of raw fish at 8 in the morning and that the selection was probably a lot more adventurous than what I typically go for (ie. salmon, eel, and tuna), it was delicious. I mean, it was probably the freshest sushi in the world. I tried a lot of food that I never otherwise would have eaten since I was travelling with much more adventurous eater than myself, so it was definitely very interesting. Shabu-shabu, which is the Japanese version of hotpot was both delicious and fun (especially since we got free booze -2 bottles of sake and 1 bottle of white wine), and another memorable meal were the Japanese style latkes, only they were made with cabbage instead of potatoes.

So that's all I'm really going to say about Japan. I still have stuff to give to Justine, Becky, and Amber though!

I was totally going to post about my school/career stuff, but I've been typing for awhile and have totally run out of steam. I'll re-update soonish, I promise!

Not the most terribly original subject line I realize, but I'm rubbish at thinking up titles (which would explain the unfortunate spate of Untitled Posts I seem to have amassed over time, as well as the number of pieces from art class that were named, again, Untitled or Study #2 in charcoal and pastel or generally Whatever Subject I Happened to Be Painting) unless you're looking for the vapid, poorly executed punnery of women's magazine copy, in which case I've got loads - for instance, a piece on hand knit, organic sweaters for Christmas could be entitled "It's a Wrap", and an article on the Rockettes could be "Jingle Belles", and a story on married men who troll the chatrooms for underage sex could be "sex, lies, and virtual rape" (was that in poor taste?) and MAN is that the world's longest run-on sentence or what.

But the difference I'm referring to is that this post, for once, actually involved a wee bit of thought on my part. So yeah, completely different.

There was an article in Slate, I believe, a few days ago about the myth of Asian women and Caucasian men. Basically the whole thing boiled down to this - in the study, white men had no racial preference when it came to dating, and Asian women were on the whole neutral when it came to dating white men, so put the two together and you end up with apparently higher proportions of that type of inter-racial dating. So then I was reading Jezebel, and a blogger basically posted a rebuttal of the study. A few readers responded by wondering why a certain subset of Caucasian men always prefer Asian women - was it the appeal of the exotic, the myth of apparently subservient, submissive women a la Suzie Wong, or alternatively the appeal of the smoking, powerful Kung Fu Queen? So just to make things clear, I think they were talking specifically about guys with Yellow Fever, so to speak, or an Asian fetish who wants a mail order bride type...not the average Joe who happens to be dating an Asian.

And of course, some Asian readers brought up examples of white men who tried to hit on them with whatever random bit of Chinese/Japanese/Thai they knew, regardless of the actual ethnicity of the girl in question. Now it's happened to me a few times before, where a random guy would go come and start spouting off Asian phrases (and no one has actually got the right language yet) and I have to agree that it's somewhat offensive. It's one thing to be genuinely interested in another person's culture, but then it's another to try to appear culturally aware and tolerant and come off as a modern imperialist instead.

Of course, I've never heard of a Caucasian girl getting offended by some guy coming up to her and trying to butcher her language. Like guys trying to speak French to Marie Cristine a few years back - if she wasn't charmed, then at least she wasn't offended. I wonder if part of it is just that they got the right language - that they didn't mistake her for Italian or German or whatnot. Nevertheless, a few years back in Amsterdam, a guy started speaking Mandarin to me - which is technically the right ethnicity at the very least, and I still was rather stroppy about it. And I'm not sure if part of it is also that as a visible minority, Asian girls don't like to be constantly reminded that they will always be viewed as a minority by society at large, despite the fact that they grew up speaking English and feel wholly "Canadian" or "American", etc. Is part of it a subconscious cultural insecurity issue?

Any thoughts, comments, etc.? I'm feeling in a very cultural anthropological mood.

How ridiculously talented are people in this world? Being born with two left feet myself, I'm filled with admiration for people who can move like the dancers last night. And man, did those dancers move. SYTYCD was awesome last night - I'm so glad I decided to slack off with school and go the the ACC last night. Not really a hard decision at all - the intricacies of computerized prescriber order entry can hardly compete with the gorgeousness that is Danny Tidwell. That man is beautiful. Like stop traffic, mesmerizing beautiful. To quote May - "sinfully hot". And yes, of course, an absolutely fantastic dancer. And yes, he did the samba. Oh. My. Goodness. Sex appeal personified. He's rumoured to be gay, but at this point, if I saw him on the street, I think I still would have to jump him regardless. Of course, his sexuality has nothing to do with his undeniable talent, and he is probably one of the best dancers I have ever seen in my life.

Poor boy though - if he really does prefer boys, I fear for his safety and general freedom from being mauled by females - quite a few women sitting around us were of a similar opinion as to his hotness. It's a bit amusing really - the pre-teen set absolutely were gaga over Neil, but people over the age of 20 were definitely Danny fans. I guess we're all past that blond, blue-eyed puppy dog phase by now.

So hopefully May will find some way of posting her videos of the night, and you can all share in the collective Danny hotness...

Yes, that incessant tune has been in my head for the past day, alternating with the music from Amelie whose clips I have not been watching while studying, and creating a rather unfortunate musical mix in the meanwhile. I suppose the reason for this would be JKR's outing of Dumbledore at a recent book-reading. Especially since the Puppet Pals Dumbledore always seemed a bit poofy anyways. What are your thoughts on the implications of this on the HP phenomenon? More books being burned by the evangelicals? An entirely new romantic avenue for people bored of the typical Harry/other male character especially Draco or other sworn enemy to explore?

Ah,remember when Amber blithely declared her attraction to the former - and at that point, only recently deceased - Wendy's spokesman? Well Amber, there is a new Dave Thomas for you to enjoy, and a more socially acceptable one at that. I was trying to find Amelie clips to watch on Youtube while studiously avoiding studying, and I chanced upon a video of a boy playing a song from the soundtrack. His name is Dave Thomas, and he's an aspiring musician from Bristol. He plays the piano and accordian, among other things, and has learned to play Yann Tiersen entirely by ear.

Check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0zFBEuC5Ts&mode=related&search=
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SboCRf7l7Xk&mode=related&search=

Hopefully these work.

I didn't think anyone could look hot playing an accordian, but apparently, playing shirtless with a sort of rumpled artistic charm helps tremendously.

Real life is looking like it's about to smack me upside the head. I am swiftly becoming aware that soon I'll be leaving the cozy life that is school and will have to confront work, bills, and responsibility for other people's lives. Scary, innit? 4th year is all about cramming in therapeutics knowledge in 2 classes and filling up the rest of the schedule with random, largely irrelevant classes, recruitment dinners, residency nights, and lunch seminars about negotiating salaries and benefits. Eek.

I've decided to commute rather than move into Grad House. I'm already sort of regretting the decision - hello fatigue, lassitude, and lack of concentration - but there's only a few weeks left of commuter hell, so it can't be that bad, right? Despite the chronic lateness of various trains, random people getting run over on the tracks, and the sardine-like conditions, I rather like trains. There's something terribly old-fashioned and quaint about whizzing through south-eastern Ontario during the fall, watching the autumn foliage go by, and seeing the pale rays of sun dancing on the lake everyday. Not to mention the random snippets of various overhead conversations that people have, which I will share today:

Girl 1 (asking about an exchange program experience): So what's the difference between Dutch culture and Canadian culture?
Girl 2: Oh, well like if you sleep with a guy at a party, you're not considered a slut. But if you make out with a bunch of guys there, you're a slut.

Little blond boy, looking at the sun at the station: Hey mommy, it's really sunny isn't it? Look, the sun's coming out! (five seconds later) OWW, the sun burns my eyes!

Girl, on cell phone, as passing Lake Ontario: Oooh...we're passing the ocean right now; isn't it pretty?

No more procrastinating for me. Hope you all are doing well, and hope to see you sometime before Christmas and my Japan trip! Let me know if you want some random Japanese gadget!