a dream is an answer to a question you haven’t asked..

Thursday:

Kayam’s company-paid birthday lunch at the Keg. Robbie was mermerized by my slightly dead medium rare prime rib with mashed potatoes. Survived accounting. Hopefully I didn’t do too badly. Waited for a sick Louie to come out of her exam and rode the subway with her. Hopefully she’s feeling much better now.

Friday:

Brought Kayam a bottle of Alexander Keith’s as his birthday present. Play date with Robbie and Kayam’s at Quy’s decked out basement. Fcking green basement. Ugh. Kayam ditched us but Robbie brought beer. One Alexander Keith’s, several cups. Just a joke. 15-foot projector, 7.1 surround sound and a 360. Tennis, pingpong and call of duty. Sicky sicky! Geekiness all time high. A:F6! Met some of Quy’s asian friends who all seem to play video games in their sleep. Skill level was high but Quy owned everybody. Belle and Alan still hasn’t met triple five girl.

Saturday:

Went to Pacific Mall to get my phones fixed. T616 (backup phone) now works, k750 still going bonkers. Was so impatient as to whether the K750 was going to get fixed so we walked around. Fell in love.. with a Nokia N73. There was no turning back. I couldn’t wait for Matt (Quy’s friend) to hook me up. Met up with Mark and Sarah for some window shopping and sushi. Sarah’s furry hat. Blue BanRep sweater. Hung out at Mark’s for another 2 hours just catching up on things. More camera love and fun stuff. Stayed up til 3 to setup my phone sync via bluetooth. Technology rules!

Sunday:

Finally had time to blog and upload pics. Can’t find Louie’s birthday pics. DAAAMMMMNN. Wanted to blog about John’s move and the on-top-of-the-world moment at Mandarin’s. Where is that DVD??? Laundry day. Need to prep for wednesday’s presentation. Sigh. Get some reading done now.

Midterm exams are a pain the ass. I’ve survived 2, still battling another 2.

I’ve become a lousy student. Hah.

Current record:
Law: 78 (70% class failure requiring a curve adjustment of 30%, meaning I initially got 48)
Database: 81 (lesson learned: read intructions carefully)
IS Management: TBD
Accounting: TBD (Quiz: 84)

One thing I’ve realized after taking my Law midterms is that the law is evil. And whoever wrote that law book is the devil’s spawn. Whatever delusions I’ve had of becoming a lawyer has certainly been killed off, thanks to the said authors who probably find themselves mighty witty for writing a book as convoluted and tricky as theirs.

I have new found respect for lawyers and law students. To study, retain, argue and find holes using that amount of information is just amazing. Whoever undertakes law studies or practices law belong to a class of their own. It certainly requires a strong sense of justice and morality, nearly photographic memory, and a lot of caffeine pills.

I think I could’ve handled Law better if I cracked my book earlier. I wasn’t kidding about it still shrinked wrapped. I only enjoyed the new-book smell while Louie and I hung out at Starbucks waiting for John to finish his 2nd van load, 2 days before my exam.

Unfortunately, I’m still the relaxed student that I was, minus Louie and Jilen to pass notes to, plus working 40 hours a week. Distractions, tsk tsk. Lol. Better luck on my next Law midterm (questionable definition of midterm) on Nov 13th. Fun stuff.

It’s 1 am and I still have 4 chapters to read for Accounting. In a few hours, I shall be back at work, wrestling with Allen Iverson’s new e-store. I would love what I’m currently working on if only it wasn’t due on Nov 1st. Iverson has sent us prints and visors as bribes, with a jersey and basketball to come, all signed. Our sentiments toward worn garments has gotten across, regardless of who has worn them. LOL.

Anyhow, compared to Playboy’s, Iverson’s site would look great on the company portfolio. Playboy’s was for their golf tournament, with some presumably partially/skimply clothed (keyword! bunnies. I’d link Quy’s initial creative for it, but that involves Lillian’s vivid ass crack and a golf ball ready for tee between her legs. Are you imagining it? Perve. Lol.

Nuff typing, must get back to ready. Pfffffffft *gone*.

Grant (Humber friend) and I were at the St. George subway station, chatting avidly when some lady started talking to me. I looked around, thinking she mistook me for somebody. She said something else in English that I didn’t understand, and I gave her a puzzled look.

Our conversation as follows:

Lady: Pilipina ka diba?
Me: Yes I am.
Lady: Bili ka naman ng puto for a dollar. Para sa charity.
Me: Which charity?
Lady: Eto. (quickly shows me a sign for a charity best know for their guerilla tactics outside Eaton’s Centre) Sige na ate, bili ka ng puto.

(She’s definitely older than me. I know she’s trying to be polite, but she should be my ate.)

Me: Ahh.. Do you have anything else besides puto?
Lady: Meron ako kutsinta. Lima na bilhin mo.
Me: (Oh well, I like kutsinta anyways). Ok ok.
Grant: Where is your charity based?
Lady: All over the Philippines!
Grant: Yeah, but where exactly?
Lady: Ohh… Davao.

(You can’t fool Grant since he lived in HK and the Phil for a bit, despite his Irish/Canadian background.)

Me: Isn’t what you’re doing illegal? You’re inside the subway.
Lady: Ok lang, marami naman kami.
Me: (Takes my kutsinta) Err… Ok.. Well goodluck, try not to get arrested.

The last part made me laugh. Like there’s an exemption to the rule if there’s more of you trying to sell puto/kutsinta. The only charity allowed to sell anything inside subway stations is United Way/Pizza Pizza’s loonie pizza because they are distinctly supported by the TTC. Even boyscouts who give you an apple for donations only stay outside the subway stations, because it will be considered tresspassing (something I learned from LAW 122).

I personally support charities like these because I get something visible for my money. I’m not being cheap here, but I’m more inclined to be generous when my contribution is matched by a bigger organization, either in the form of money, food or community service. And I have to say it’s one of the things I appreciate about living in Toronto. Although Toronto isn’t immune to free loaders, this doesn’t stop people from helping. Eventhough the i’m-short-a-quarter-for-the-subway spiel is over-used, there’d still be people who would spare you change. Not me, but somebody else for sure.

What I don’t like about those puto/kutsinta people is that they’re too aggressive. This isn’t the first time I’ve come across them, only the first time I actually got something in exchange for my donation. They also only go after Filipinos. Times like that, Mhe and I get lucky because they seem unsure if we’re Filipino or not. Throw them a confused look and they stammer in heavily accented English. But Mhe’s too nice, she responds in Filipino to affirm the flipness while I reply in English. Sometimes I wish I don’t even reply but it’s hard to fight instinct.

My point is, charity is done willingly. If I tell you I don’t have change right now, don’t tell me I can give you a bill and you’ll have enough change. Say, just give whatever you can willingly spare. Don’t demand, or block my path. If I say, I’m sorry, it could mean I’m just really PO you blocked my path, or I don’t really have money to spare. Even I have to work 6 minutes to earn the 2 bucks I give you. You get my 2 bucks in 2 seconds.

And don’t just tell me it’s for charity. Try to sell me the charity you support. Make me feel all warm and fuzzy from all my generosity that maybe I might actually give you more. Maybe, just maybe.

A couple of weeks ago, I just got out of my Law class and was heading home when a big big girl seated on a bench asked me if I could do her a favour.

I normally don’t talk to strangers but I can’t help myself when I feel like a person needs help. Being too nice in the Phil can get you killed, but since I’m in Toronto and people are lot nicer here, I figure I could be a bit more accomodating.

I have to say I was bit scared of this girl because (1) she was a lot bigger than me and in case she attacked me she has the upper hand (talk about paranoia) and (2) she seemed slightly off, like a few french fries short of a happy meal if you know what I’m saying.

But my bleeding heart thought she might really need help, so I told her ‘it depends’. She asked me if I knew where the women’s centre is. The women’s centre had a playground and a pool. For those who don’t know what a women’s centre is, it’s a shelter for troubled women. I don’t recall ever seeing a women’s shelter with a playground and pool, because that hardly justifies the use of their meager budget.

She then asked me if I could call the police so they can pick her up and drop her off at the women’s centre. I told her I don’t think the police would actually come pick her up. And I seriously didn’t want to call the po-pos for such a reason. Besides, if they asked where we were, the only thing I could say is ’somewhere on church st’.

I asked if she really wanted to ask the police for help, why do I have to call them? Why couldn’t she call them herself? She told me she was scared. I told her, ‘I don’t want to call the police for something like that but you’re free to use the pay phone to dial 911′. She kept saying she was scared to call the police. I reasoned out that it would be easier for the po-pos to find her because they can track the address of a payphone. That finally made sense to her. She thanked me as she walked away.

I told Louie this story a few days after. She advised me to just ignore those kind of people and keep walking. I’m such a sucker for those kind of people, that I think one of these days it will get me in trouble.

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

I was at Starbucks with Louie yesterday, waiting for some grande non-fat marble mocha machiattos (yummmmmmmmm) when a cop came in looking for the washroom. I think the washroom was currently occupied so he stood close to me and started some small talk. This cop was huge, most likely bigger than Alan who’s 6′ 2″. He commented that I was bundled up and ready for winter. I was wearing a winter wind breaker and my grey benetton wool scarf. I replied that it’s been chilly the past week and it’s been lightly snowing too. The cop moves closer to me and starts touching my scarf. I don’t know about you, but I like having my personal space, cop or not. But I’m not about to complain about a 6-footer cop touching my scarf, no siree.

The washroom soon became available and the cop went away. Wheew.

I don’t get it. Do I look that friendly to you? I seem to attract weirdos. Just look at my friends. Lol. Kidding!

Maybe I should’ve put my hand out and screamed “stop! get your own sandwhich!” Ahh.. I think I’m spending way too much time with Robbie. Memories…

The good thing about weirdos and me is that I never ran out of weird stories to tell people. It makes life interesting, and as long as no real harm is done, it’s alright. The world can use a few weirdos here and there, hopefully not within such close proximity of each other.

Enough about my weirdos. Somebody share their ‘weirdos’ story. Someday, we’ll have a top 5 list of weirdos story. Hahaha.

there was a time i would’ve sung this to someone. but we both knew i deserved more.

7 was never my lucky number. nor was 13. but I survived, maybe not unscathed.

i survived and i’m happy, even hopeful.

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

Sweet Destroyer - Emm Gryner, The Summer of High Hopes

Navy skies of summer blister and rain
Love letters on your desk untouched again today

What I wouldn’t give up for you love
Oh what blanks are loaded in my gun
Please

**
Now the bombs are firing near the people we know
Don’t care to get my star, or be adored anymore
I long for your sweet hand upon my back
Valentines, your eyes and only that
Just that

What I wouldn’t give up for you love
Oh what blanks are loaded in my gun
Please

CHORUS:
Sweet destroyer come again
You leave little by little
And day by day my love
I see me
Oh so helpless at the end
I’ve put my world upon you
Can’t you see

(Repeat **, CHORUS)

I never thought I would
But your love was just too good
Oh the things that you don’t see in me

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

Check out the rest of the album on my multiply. Sharing is caring.

this river is wild - the killers, sam’s town (lyrics)

Leaves are falling down on the beautiful ground, I heard a story from a man in red. He said the leaves are falling down, such a beautiful sound, son I think you’d better go ahead.

But you always hold your head up high, cause it’s a long, long, long way down. This town was meant for passing through, boy it ain’t nothin’ new, now go and show ‘em that the world stayed round. But it’s a long, long, long way down.

You better run for the hills before they burn, listen to the sound of the world, don’t watch it turn. I just want to show you what I know and catch you when the current lets you go.

Or should I just get along with myself? I never did get along with everybody else. I’ve been trying hard to do what’s right. But you know I could stay here all night and watch the clouds fall from the sky. Well this river is wild. This river is wild.

Run for the hills before they burn. Listen to the sound of the world, don’t watch it turn. But shake a little. Sometimes I’m nervous when I talk, shake a little. Sometimes I hate the line I walk. I just want to show you what I know and catch you when the current lets you go.

Or should I just get along with myself? I never did get along with everybody else. I’ve been trying hard to do what’s right. But you know I could stay here all night and watch the clouds fall from the sky. Because this river is wild. God speed you boy – this river is wild.

Now Adam’s taking bombs and he’s stuck on his mom because that bitch keeps trying to make him pray. He’s with the hippy in the park combing over the dark just trying to get some of the little girl play.

You better run for the hills before they burn, listen to the sound of the world, don’t watch it turn. I just want to show you what I know and catch you when the current lets you go.

Or should I get along with myself? I never did get along with everybody else. I’ve been trying hard to do what’s right. But you know I could stay here all night and watch the clouds fall from the sky, and pay this hell in me tonight, because this river is wild. God speed you boy – this river is wild. This river is wild. God speed you boy – this river is wild.

Now the cars are everywhere, lacing dust at the fairgrounds. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many headlights. But there’s something pulling me. The circus and their crew, well they’re just passing through, just making sure that merry still goes ‘round. But it’s a long, long, long way down.

Today:
Turkey. Stuffing. Great people. Case study. Reading for accounting quiz on thursday. Database lab for tomorrow.

Yesterday:
Genesis. Missing pole dancers. LOL. Chinese food. Starbucks. Sarah and her gorgeous hair. Sarah being picked up by old men at Starbucks. Pizza. Matrix. No angelo. Mark, contradictions, and his claim that boxing is not a sport. Definition of a sport here. Fobber girl talk. Ice cream. Great Laughs.

Saturday:
Dim sum with the girls. 4 gig-er Ipod for Angelo. Quick shopping with Alan for headphones and a case. Banana Republic. No introduction to the fobber girl. Disappointments.

Friday:
10 hours at work. In at 7. Fcked up deadline for MealExchange. Everybody at work liked my glasses. Sushi Train. 200 dollars for sushi, a tree stump and a rock. Karaoke virgin. 100 for two hours of kareoke and drinks.

Thursday:
Work. Tired. Passed out. Forget about homework.

Wednesday:
Work. Bladder problems. Antibiotics. ITM 505 Presentation. Long walk on College. Revival. Moulann’s CD Release party. Officially became a Moulann groupie. Signed CD. Cranberry vodka. Night out with Jilen. All in all a good night.

Two souls, which fit each other for, how in the throng, have found each other. A union, for as they themselves lives on earth and continue forever in heaven, this union, love, true love, a religion, which unified the loved one, whose life comes from devotion and passion, and which the latest sacrifices are the sweetest delights. This is the love which you inspire in my soul is made to love with purity and passion of angels. Perhaps it can only love another angel, in which case tremble with apprehension.

- Esprit de Corps