Children

I just had a conversation with my brother and his friend. It went something like this:

Brother: Sis it's not listening to me
Me: -rushes over- What's not listening to you?
Brother: My head isn't listenin-
Friend: -giggling- NO NO! OUR SOCKS!
Brother: -also giggling- Ya, our socks aren't listening to us.
Friend: Ya my sock won't listen
Me: Ok... so what do you want me to do about this?
-Mild silence-
Brother: I want to punch my sock
Friend: -punching his right foot- Ya I want to punch my sock too
Me: Ok then you guys go punch your socks.
-They punch their feet as I leave laughing wildly-

Sometimes I wonder what goes on in their heads. I don't recall being extremely strange when I was their age (Five-years-old), and I do remember being that age. The strangest thing I ever did was play pretend with my parents (I was the teacher and they were my students)... which isn't really that strange.

My dear brother also thought it would be pretty funny to tell me that his bum was on fire the other day. He waltzed into my room and shouted -between laughing hysterically- about how there was fire on his bum. Apparently it was the greatest joke of the century, but sadly I did not understand the humour.

There seems to be something incredibly funny about using "bad words" and insults as well. In their case "stupid poopy head" is a terribly brilliant insult. I understand this, after all if anyone dares call me a stupid poopy head, I wouldn't be very happy (despite my initial laughter of course).

For some reason I don't recall being so giddy about these "bad words" and odd jokes... is it a gender/sex thing?

I WILL BE A SUCCESS!!!

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I GOT INTO MY PROGRAM!!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAY~

I'm very excited about this as you can tell. The best part is I found out I got in via EMAIL! That's right; the undergrad coordinator assistant EMAILS people who got in! I would write more about how great this is but I have to go be happy now.

From birds to fish

We got a betta fish!

My brother named him/her Pearl. We bought Pearl because my brother would not stop demanding a pet. Now normally we've been able to distract his attention; but it just so happened that we took him out to play and he found a baby bird. He wanted to keep it as a pet; which we of course said no to. We went on a tedious explanation of how the baby bird had to stay with its mommy and daddy we would continue to care for it even though it's not in a nest (we were unsure where its original nest was but once in a while a big bird would come feed it).

Of course my brother refused to listen to logic. No matter, he decided he didn't want the baby bird anymore; he wanted a guinea pig. But my parents dislike things with fur. So I told him we could buy a fish. After a few minutes of convincing him that fish were awesome, our family came to agreement. And we got Pearl.

Not the most exciting story, I know, but the similarities between my brother's and my own childhood really struck me. I remember asking for a pet when I was younger; only to be turned down. On one occasion (after realizing that my parents would refuse to buy a cat or dog) I asked for a bird. When I was very young we used to have parrots until we moved. I thought that asking for a bird was an ingenious idea since we had them before! But it seems my parents, having taken care of birds before, didn't want to do it again. So then I asked for a hamster. Again I faced bitter rejection. It was then that I learned of my parent's dislike of fur/feathers/warm-blooded creatures.

I considered asking for a snake but decided to just play it completely safe and asked for a fish. They bought me the fish.

My fish died 3 days after we got it. I seemed to have a history with fish actually. When I was very young I remember going with my father to a pond and catching a little tadpole shaped fish. We had goldfish back at home back then so we just added the tadpole fish to our goldfish bowl. I then came up with the horrible idea that the big goldfish would try to eat the little tadpole fish. And so, complimenting myself on how much I cared about the safety of my fish, I took scissors and proceeded to stick them into the fish bowl to keep the goldfish as far away from the tadpole fish as the little fish bowl allowed. Luckily no fish died... actually I'm not sure what happened to the tadpole fish since it was gone the next day... perhaps even with my best efforts at hand the tadpole fish still turned into goldfish food.

But that was a story from my early childhood when I had no sense. As for the fish I got after my endless pet-wanting pestering died, I just gave up on my asking for pets.

So far Pearl's survived his/her first 2 days in our house and I feel like (s)he'll last. Betta fish are strong. And I will watch my brother carefully and keep him away from scissors and other sharp objects that can potentially endanger Pearl's life. He shall learn from my mistakes.

Sober Drunk

A friend recently told me that alcohol brings out a person's true nature. I raised my eyebrow and then the statement was changed to "alcohol amplifies a person's true self." My eyebrow remained raised. Statement now stands as "alcohol removes the usual social constraints."

Now usually this should all be common sense and what not, but I have a slight problem with it. Why do social constraints exist? Some of them keep us from hurting each other. Some of them keep us from killing ourselves. And some of them make sure we don't tell our secrets to others. The first two are fine and I can totally understand the use in social constraints at those levels. Now as for the secrets... this is where things start to bug me.

When a close friend drinks and ends up intoxicated and spills their life stories and insecurities, I'm not sure how to feel about it. A part of me thinks maybe they just need some help in expressing themselves and now that they've done it once it won't be a problem in the future. But then a part of me wonders if I'm worth hearing these secrets when clearly this friend did not tell me them when (s)he was sober.

Same with personality changes when intoxicated. Is that who they really are? If it is why aren't they always like that? Am I really that cold/harsh/intimidating that they have to put up a front for me? Flattering and all, but again; unsure how to feel about all that.

So now I ponder if there's such a thing as being sober drunk. A state of being when a person can fully decide to renounce all social constraints and have the freedom of being "drunk" without drinking. While in said state person must somehow not let their finer judgement (fear) get in the way of doing what they want. Also it would completely ruin the effect if the person could decide to escape the state of sober drunkness at anytime while in said state. So said person must make a mental effort to stay sober drunk for, per say, exactly the next hour. And just like that the sober drunk can be sober drunk for exactly an hour of their own willing being without the consumption of alcohol!

Ok, that might be going a bit far. But generally I don't think anything that an intoxicated person says really means much in the end. If they're madly in love with you and tell you; well great, now you know how they feel! But are you really going to be happy that said person wasn't going to tell you when (s)he was sober? Are they really in love with you if they can't admit to it before drinking a little something? Not to say they don't feel what they feel, but I suppose there's more to a secret than just the secret. I find what's more important sometimes is how the secret is shared, if it is. And if it isn't then, to me, it doesn't exist! And if the secret is 'shared' by ways of gossip, that's also quite a shame.

So I guess what I feel is that if there's a big important secret that cannot be shared; don't drink. If drinking is necessary then the secret must be shared maturely beforehand.

Lesson learned from writing this: reality should either be well hidden or plain in sight.

I make lists.

I'm a bit bored right now. So here's a list of some lists I'm going to make:

1. List (that'd be this list)
2. Ways to pass time
3. Ways to stay healthy
4. Fruits I like
5. Places I want to visit again

Ways to pass time

• Stare at walls
• Read
• Play computer games
• Play games on game console
• Fold origami
• Run up and down the stairs at home until your legs feel numb
• Clean
• Organize
• Plan for the future
• Facebook
• Write a story
• Think of an object and write about why it's awesome
• Play an instrument 
• Study
• Memorize something trivial 
• Memorize something most people wouldn't have time to memorize (like Pi)
• Start a Diary
• Go Bike-riding
• Find a park and walk around it
• Find a forest and walk off the trail 
• Photograph random things
• Create Lists

Ways to stay healthy

• Eat fruits and veggies
• Sleep well
• Sleep in darkness
• Go walking or jogging or exercising in some way
• Stay intellectually engaged
• Smile
• Laugh
• Cry
• Express yourself 
• Talk to attractive people of the opposite gender (it releases endorphins, which are good for you)

Fruits I like

• Apples (gala mostly and granny smith sometimes)
• Grapes
• Dragon fruit
• Oranges
• Pears (the soft ones)
• Strawberries
• Blackberries
• Raspberries (only if there aren't any blackberries)
• Coconut 
• Guava 
• Bananas
• Pomegranates
• Avocado 

Places I want to visit again

• Beijing
• Shanghai
• Shenzhen  
• Yellow Mountain
• Singapore
• Cuba
• New York 

Motivation Hunt

I woke up this morning and considered overdosing on some over-the-counter drug so I wouldn't have to go through the rest of life.

That sounded really suicidal and emo, rest assured I never planned on doing that as it was merely a thought. Of course why did I have such a thought? Well I'm sure we all do at some point in life, especially when life is just boring or full of work. I have work to do, but I don't want to do it. If I read a book I'm being unproductive. If I study for MCAT... no that counts as work. So I thought; wouldn't it be great if I could just die right now?

No I do not want to die. Please don't assume that this is a secret plead for someone to come murder me. I enjoy living quite nicely. I'm just lacking a bit of motivation.

So I went on a motivation hunt! But I didn't know where to look. So I begun by trying to figure out what motivates me. Here's my list:

1. Chocolate
2. Candy
3. Sleep
4. Sims
5. Wait.... these are all rewards for working
6. Rewards
7. Maybe the knowledge that I'm bettering humanity? 
8. People smiling at me
9. Being told I did a good job
10. Being awesome
11. Beating all the competition
12. Rubbing it in their faces
13. ... Cross that last

So in general it seems like in order for me to do my work, I need some sort of reward for it. Honestly that was a terrible list. Let me make a new one:

1. Rewards

Ok. So in terms of rewards I tend to want one of 2 things; emotional comfort or physical comfort. Beating the competition and getting people smile at me are all emotional comforts. Candies and chocolates are physical comfort.

But then the real problem is that I can easily get access to most physical comforts without doing the work (unless the work is going up to get a candy). It's only the emotional comforts that require any work. However at this particular moment in time I am rather emotionally void. I don't really want any emotional comforts since my emotions are just fine. All I want are the physical comforts which I can access so easily. 

Am I going to disfavour myself and refrain from candy until I study for my MCAT? I really feel like it... In fact I'm feeling somewhat hungry now... I'm sure there's some chocolate somewhere in this house...

Letter Writing: Makes you feel special

So for the sake of being awesome I wrote a letter that I plan on mailing off to a friend who lives in a far away city only reachable by plane today. Said friend also just reactivated facebook account, emails with me on a regular basis and is easily accessible by text message. But you know what? I sent her a letter; you know, the ones made of pen and paper rather than printer ink and paper?

As I wrote the letter I realized how terribly small the world is... It makes it so much harder to be intimate and confidential. I mean honestly, sure I can talk to friends via interwebs, but I can do that to everyone. In the old days you only talked to people you actually cared about because if you didn't care about them you wouldn't go through the long and time consuming act of writing out a long winded letter and sealing it and sending it and waiting for days to weeks on a reply. Today, I can send off a message and expect a reply in seconds. It's just something that I can do to talk to just anyone; which makes talking to friends like that lose the special appeal.

So I wrote cursive with an ink pen on pretty paper. Hope it's legible... regardless it was awesome and I feel like I should have worked by candle light and with a real ink pen:

It's so beautiful... I want one... but I doubt I'll ever get a real chance to use it properly, which sucks because again I'm forced to use modern technologies. 

Not that I don't like technology, it's wonderful and useful; but at the same time leaves me wondering if life would be better without it. It feels as though the ability to instantly communicate takes away from the intimacy of communication. I almost feel that something means more if one has to wait for it. 

And gosh do I have to wait for it now! Apparently there are random strikes going on in Canada Post... apparently letters are still being delivered but I'd assume that they're just trying to quench the public. Worst part is I recently realized how obsolete the mail delivery system is... Honestly if I want to write a letter I can email. If I need to get my bills, there's online billing. Advertisements and coupons get sent to my email and searched for over the interwebs. Paypal allows you to send money. If I want to make a package delivery there's UPS and FedEx. 

I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that Canada Post is basically obsolete in this modern day world. Is there any a case where there is a form of mail that can only be delivered via Post? I certainly can't think of any, but perhaps I'm just not thinking outside the box. (I was very tempted to type "outside the mailbox" just now...)

Still I hope I can finish all my letter writing soon and get everything delivered in time. It's also quite stressing that I just sent off a scholarship application via Canada Post and now I'm worried they won't ever get my application...

July 4th: I await you

I am not American. I do not celebrate w/e they call their national day. July 1st is much more important to me. However, this year July 4th is pretty important too.

July 4th is when I find out if I got accepted into my program at UOT. Last year the average entrance GPA for this program was 3.86. This program is intense. And I want in.

It's especially nerve-wrecking for me to go on facebook and see some friends who already have their major/specialist etc listed under their education. In my head I'm just waiting for the day I can add my own specialist on my profile... It'd be an achievement I think. But then this got me thinking why I even care so much. I mean I know I'm going to get into this program; why am I making the update of my profile page such a big deal?

And this is true of lots of other things that get publicized via the interwebs. Ever see a friend's relationship status change and get a jolt of some feeling (either sympathy, jealousy, surprise etc)? I think today it's impossible not to live vicariously through your friends, after all every status update they make gets presented to everyone they know. People are so easy to stalk.

Of course there are the ones who really enjoy being at the top of the Top News. In fact I'm sure most of us would like to know that friends are looking at a status or photo or profile change. It makes us feel important I suppose? But then there goes all attempts to be modest about life, to keep yourself hidden, to not have to make your life seem interesting.

Honestly who cares about your life when everyone already has their own life to live? But that's exactly the problem because people somehow do care! We're constantly stalking each other trying to find the newest bits of gossip and news. We care about what other people think of us because we're constantly thinking about other people.

Now I would say, "starting from now on I won't care about any of you." But I can't do that without losing a few friends (or a lot of friends). At the end of the day we still cherish that feeling of being watched, of feeling like our life is good enough to be of importance to others. So perhaps we only think about other people so that other people will in turn think about us.

Now I wish I could make my own opinion on the topic and actually have a valid point, but that's not really me. But the fact that I still update this blog probably says a lot more about my inner stance on the topic than anything else.

But come July 4th, my profile page will be updated. But I might just hide it from the news feed.