Things I’ve learned this holiday season
- When the roads look perfectly clear but all motorists are pulled to the side of the highway to put on chains, you should probably step out of your vehicle first, giving yourself a chance to slip and fall on the black ice BEFORE you pull up to a motorist and ask, “why are you putting on chains??”
- How to put on chains.
- How to check the oil in a car.
- How to replace windshield washer fluid.
- How to take off chains.
- How to dig your car out of three feet of snow.
- How to catch a runaway dog that’s less than two feet tall in three feet of snow.
- If you try the dangling-of-treats-in-front-of-camera approach to get the dog to pose for a Christmas photo to go in your Christmas cards, expect most of his expressions to look like he wants to eat you. And by the way, Merry Christmas!
- Boxing Day does not exist in America.
- Some Americans believe Boxing Day has something to do with boxing.
- You get better deals after Boxing Day.
- The day you decide to dress up like an anime doll (complete with high pigtails in Christmas scrunchies and furry boots, effectively de-aging you some 10+ years) to make your first video game purchase (DDR!), you will run into old friends and extended family who haven’t seen you in years. And to them, you haven’t aged a bit!
- Snow isn’t all that bad when you’re plowing through unchartered back roads with your little Corolla. The best part? Front wheel power (and no ability to get stuck, thank you snow chains!) and back wheel slippage.
- The best way to find some things is to stop looking. All summer you looked for the perfect pair of semi-dressy shorts to pair with neon leggings, dunks and suspenders. In the dead of winter, you find the perfect pair on the clearance rank for EIGHT DOLLARS, and you weren’t even looking.
- It’s really, really hard to cut through a frozen Tufurkey roll, even with The Knife That Cuts Through ANYTHING. Give up while you’re still a head (and ten fingers).
Well there you have it—further proof that learning can happen outside the classroom, even when school isn’t in session. Happy holidays everyone! Hope your Christmas vacation was just as educational.
Why I don’t take vacations
Being that I am a person of extremes, vacations rarely do me any good in the long run. Working vacations are fabulous. Vacation vacations are not.
Working vacations, if done right, generally combine a perfect balance of work and play, creating a healthy balance of reality; just in a different setting. For me, this is how I live my life at home, just magnified and more intense. The result? Little to no readjustment, but much refreshment.
Vacation vacations, if done right, generally involve a entire process of forgetting reality all together and just “relaxing”—and while that sounds ridiculously tempting, it’s generally a “putting off”, “delaying”, or “running away from” of your problems, i.e., reality. The result? A painful readjustment process in the face of sharp, rude reality when you get home. And sand in your suitcase.
As time goes by
Today the best friend and I met up for lunch at Finch’s Tea & Coffee House on Pender Street. I ordered the veggie sandwich on multigrain with potato nutmeg soup and masala chai tea. She ordered the avocado sandwich on a baguette with chamomile tea. The food was superb, and the atmosphere, lovely.
In less than a week, I leave for California. I return to home shortly after the 21st. She leaves for Mexico on the 20th, and arrives home early next year. We barely get to see each other as it is, and as it often happens, our vacation times tend to narrowly miss each other. This Christmas is no exception.
Her and I have been friends for over thirteen years now. Between then and now, time has taken us all over the place; different schools, different lifestyles, different goals, and different tastes in nearly everything—but despite that, we’ve always remained the bestest of friends.
Today, I’m thankful for soulmates.
Here’s to the firestarters
Where there is no vision, the people perish.
Proverbs 29:18
We all may be alive in the technical sense of the word, but could it be possible that we all carry parts of ourselves that have died long ago?
When we were children, we loved without abandon, questioned without hesitation, dreamed without guidelines and lived without limitations… But then we “grew up”, and much like the proper adults we were expected to be, we put walls around our possibilities and became “realistic”.
But How much of us died because of that?
Somewhere along the way, many of us have lost our drive for life and settled for mundane mediocrity. Have you ever looked at middle-aged people earning minimum wage in dead-end jobs and wondered what series of events led them to where they are today? Surely they didn’t dream of being a Wal-Mart greeter when they were a child. What happened? What went wrong?
How to organize your computer and still remember where you put everything
If you’re like me, your desktop probably doesn’t look like this most of the time. In fact, if you’re anything like me, it probably looks more like this.
As part of Operation: Clean Out The Engine Sludge, I recently reorganized my entire computer and put every last file away where it belonged. If you’re thinking, gosh, that sounds like a lot of work, it is. It took me about 2-3 hours and freed up about 10 gigabytes in space, but it was well worth it.
Today I thought I’d share with you how I organize the files on my computer in a way that makes them easy to find again, even if I leave them there and forget about them for months. I call it the “How To Organize Your Computer And Still Remember Where You Put Everything” system, or “The Alphabetical Reference System” for short.
Bring on the cheer
Its officially December. This may not be terribly exciting news to you, but to all considerate Christmas lovers around the world, the coming of the twelveth month means one thing, and one thing only:
We’re officially allowed to bring on the cheer.
It’s a little known fact that singing Christmas songs, playing Christmas songs, referring to Christmas songs, putting up Christmas decorations, having Christmas decorations up and having a Christmas tree after January 30th and Before December 1st is considered a no no.
Malls don’t always follow this particular unwritten code, but this year, I think we can let them off the hook—with that whole economy thing going on, nobody can blame them for trying to pump out premature Christmas cheer in hopes of sustaining what should be their busiest time of year.
This may be incredibly difficult to believe, so brace yourself, but some people don’t like Christmas. Some people don’t even celebrate it, or any other cheerful equivalent of it. Some people say it’s just a big hullabaloo (that’s an actual word by the way, did you know that?) created by the commercial giants with the intent to suck away all our money. And you know what I think?
I think these people need a big dose of HAPPY! CHRISTMAS! CHEER! shoved up their backsides.
You know you’re spending too much time on your blog when…
Chanel says: (8:18:46 PM)
so I had a dream about [redacted]
Marissa says: (8:19:26 PM)
OOOH TELL ME ALL THE DIRTY DETAILS!
Chanel says: (8:19:45 PM)
it wasnt THAT good
Chanel says: (8:19:51 PM)
actually, it was quite weird
Chanel says: (8:19:55 PM)
he was sitting next to me
Chanel says: (8:19:59 PM)
very close to me
Chanel says: (8:20:19 PM)
and then something prompted him to lean over and whisper in my ear,
“so I heard you blogged about me”
5 Reasons why Twilight sucked
Before I begin, let me preface this by saying that I actually had hopes for this movie. Even though I did not enjoy the books, I felt that Twilight was the kind of story that would make a better movie than a book; and it would have, had the following not gone all wrong…
1. The acting
It was more than bad. It was awful. Most of the characters seemed so awkward with each other, like they had all been thrown together on a high saturation set with a script and told to just act it out. Edward and Bella seemed to have zero chemistry (just like the book) and were awkward around each other all the time, even when they should have been more comfortable.
Charlie and Jacob’s dad (Billy, was it?) were the two best acted parts in the movie. I thought that Charlie’s relationship with Bella was believable, true to the book (from what I can remember) and just awkward enough to fit the background. And, he was funny, in a sort of a passive way.
2. The dialogue
I’m not even sure where to get started on this one, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie that has had such awful, choppy, awkward, inexperienced dialogue such as this one. I thought vampires were supposed to have smooth, melodic voices that flowed like honey? Instead, what you get is short bursts of crammed dialogue followed by long awkward pauses. Nothing flows, even when it’s supposed to. Instead, you get this: “Iknowwhatyouare” (in one breath) [pause pause pause] “whatami, (in one breath) bella?”
3. The facial expressions
Edward: Most of the time, he looked (and spoke) like he had a large stick up his ass.
Bella: Has this girl never had a happy moment in her life? She claims to be in love with Edward, and the last time I checked, when you’re in love with someone, they generally make you happy. Why is it then that Bella NEVER CRACKS A SMILE throughout the ENTIRE MOVIE? I understand danger befalls you constantly and you live in a small town that would make anyone want to kill themselves, but girlfriend’s gotta lighten up a bit!
Bubblegum disco
In about half an hour, I will be heading to the mall (a place I haven’t been in maybe, two months?) wearing this outfit (note the pink!) to see The Best Friend (a girl I also haven’t seen in two months) to pay 11 bucks to see a movie that primarily attracts screaming 13 year olds.
It’s like high school all over again!
The Starbucks Delusion
I know I literally write about this at least once or twice a year, but it is ASTOUNDING how much I can get done if I really start my day before 9, 10, or 11 am.
Normally, I prefer to wake up later and just work later into the evening, but this getting up early and not being dead tired (a result of going to bed earlier the previous night) really is quite appealing. I’ve been meaning to make the switchover from night owl to One Of Those Adult People, and now I may have just stumbled on newfound motivation to do so.
On a somewhat related but mostly unrelated note…
This morning I got up at A Respectable Adult Hour, dropped my brother off at school in North Vancouver and came home, stopping at the Granville skytrain station on my way back to grab a grande steamed soy with hazelnut from Starbucks. Normally I don’t really indulge in such things, but since I was freezing and it was still a ways home, I indulged.
You know, I felt so trendy, walking the streets of downtown Vancouver with a Starbucks drink in hand. Waiting at every pedestrian crossing, I was surrounded by sharply dressed individuals all off on their morning routines. They had gotten up early too! They were trendy and well dressed too! They were all enjoying their hot morning beverages too! I was one of them! I was trendy too!
Well, okay… Honestly? Maybe I was mostly trendy. I might have forgotten to comb my hair or put on make up that morning, and there was a good possibility I was not wearing Burberry and Armani like the rest of my streetwalking companions—I might have left the house in an oversized red University of Arkansas sweater and brown sneakers that clashed with everything else I was wearing. Maybe.
Hey, it was fun while it lasted!
A not so merry christmas photo
If only I could describe to you the picture of chaos that was going on before, during, and after the shooting of this photo. I’ve mentioned Winkey’s affinity for public displays of aggressiveness towards other dogs before, but this was truly the first time his antics have taken place against the backdrop of, “FREE DOG PHOTO WITH SANTA WITH DONATION TO ANIMAL SHELTER!”
Even Santa was a little afraid, and that overweight dude slides himself down chimneys every year.
Fire in the sky
Over the weekend, we got some funny weather. It started with heavy rain (that sounded from inside like it was going to break down the windows) and turned into something a whole lot more beautiful…
A rainbow!
And then the sky caught on fire.
Lazy and ridiculous
Here’s a definition of lazy and ridiculous for you: sharing a light bulb between two lamps because there are no more unused light bulbs in the house, and you haven’t gotten around to buying more.
(Brother enters bedroom, sits on bed)
“Hey, I need you to tell me what chocolates you want. The orders need to be in by tomorrow.”
“Yeah, sure. Just hold on a sec…”
(Chanel walks over to desk, unscrews light bulb from—)
“—What are you doing?”
“Getting us light so I can see”
(Brother gives me crazy looks, doubts my sanity)
“Okay then…”
That’s right, folks. Twice a day, I unscrew light bulbs. I unscrew the light bulb from the lamp on my bedside table (used for reading, the night before) and screw it into the lamp on my desk when I need to work. Then, 12 hours later, I unscrew the light bulb from desk lamp and screw it back into the lamp on my bedside table when I want to read. The next morning, the routine repeats itself.
And you thought you were bad.
Et Il a mangé le bébé!
I’m going to be honest here: I am not one of those people who enjoys sitting through videos of children doing so-called “cute” things. Most of the time, I just don’t find it as cute as other people seem to. I’m not sure what it is—maybe they have to be related to me to activate that particular maternal gene?
Having said that, this little French girl by the name of Capucine is just so adorable it melts my icy heart and I can’t stop watching this video. So watch it, especially if you’re like me. And stay until at least 1:51, because that has to be the cutest expression I have ever seen.
There is a reason I post this here, by the way. So watch it and then keep reading.
Selfless love
The other day, I was talking to a friend about relationships and dating.
“You know, sometimes I just find this whole thing so depressing,” I said. “There is always a catch to the good ones, you never have any attraction or chemistry with the ones who are perfect for you, and then there are those who want you but are no good for you—where are the ones who are just as good for you as you are for them?”
“Taken,” He replied. “Taken by girls who don’t deserve them.”
Have you ever wondered why this appears to be?
Most women, at some point in their lives, have made The List. The List, for those who aren’t familiar with the term, is a list of things a woman wants in a man. Smart, good-looking, hard working, sociable, wealthy, influential, drives a nice car, has shiny teeth—whatever is on it, The List varies from woman to woman, but they all have one, either in their heads or on paper.
A couple months after my 16th birthday, my parents gave me a purple notebook. I still have it today. I entitled it “Chanel’s handbook for life”, and in it, I made lots of lists. I made one on the person I would like to be, my priorities in life (and what they should actually be), the perfect way to balance my time and energy, goals I want to achieve in my lifetime, things I want to do in my lifetime, life lessons I have learned, things I need to change, etc. etc. And then I made The List.
Tight squeeze, cool breeze, now you’ve got the shiveries!
“And where are you from?”
“Vancouver, BC… in Canada”
“Oh, Canada! This must be warm for you.”
“Well actually…”
The lady with the skirt
This was spotted among the other bizarre sights on our road trip to Salt Lake City. Am I the only one who finds this really strange, and maybe a little funny?
(Other info of note: It was windy, and pieces of hay kept flying out and hitting our windshield as the horse was taking chunks out of it to eat. And then my mother commented on how, from behind, this horse’s behind looked like the behind of a fat women who’s skirt was blowing the wind.)
Cleaning out the engine sludge
- Answer more questions in “yes” or “no”; less “maybe”.
- Stop unnecessarily explaining yourself.
- Get your inboxes down to zero (currently: 1497 in gmail; over 2500+ in hotmail).
- Unsubscribe to all e-newsletters and “junk” email lists.
- Clean your desk, throw away unnecessary papers.
- Return emails and calls within 24 hours.
- Put every last stray file in your computer away where it belongs.
- Get things done when the come to your attention; not “later”.
- Tidy often instead of deep cleaning infrequently. It’s less work for you.
- Stop making excuses. Be honest about being a lazy ass.
- Make your workspace look like a workspace, and not a victim of hurricane.
- GET TO SLEEP BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
Red, yellow, orange
There are some crazy colors going on outside right now.
Chanel: Now older
Sneaking away my dog from me, smuggling a bouquet of balloons into the basement, tying them to Winkey’s collar and then surprising me by asking me to call the dog—bright colored birthday balloons bounding behind him—has quite possibly been the cutest birthday surprise I’ve ever gotten.
The week of mourning
This will be the last post I write at the age I currently am, but will not be when I wake up tomorrow. Being the optimistic person I am, I have referred to this past week as “the week of mourning”. Seeing those words on Facebook and MSN has alarmed a couple people and brought about concerned questions like, “is everything alright?” or, “what happened?!!”—but worry quickly fades into amusement when they find out the only thing I’m mourning right now is the loss of my youth.
Don’t scoff. It’s a legitimate reason to mourn. Although, some people may not agree…
Embarrassing and proud
On our final evening in Salt Lake City, we met up with our team for dinner at Spencer’s For Steaks and Chops, a restaurant voted “best steakhouse in Utah”. This actually has nothing to do with what I’m about to write about, but I thought I’d throw that in there, because hey, you don’t see two vegetarians at a table with eight other plates of 14 oz, $33 steak everyday now do you?
(They also offered a wine list with prices up to $3000 a bottle, and no I am not kidding you. As one woman said: “If I’m going to drop that much money, I’d like to have something to show for it, like a pair of Manolos, or you know, A DIAMOND maybe?”)
While we were waiting for our food, the conversation on the southern end of the table turned to pictures of our kids, namely, the subject of carrying photos of them with us. Out of the five women involved in the conversation, one of them had photos of her children, one didn’t, one didn’t have kids, and two of them carried photos of their dogs instead.
So those who had photos passed them around. And just as I was putting my phone away, it hit me:
You know you’ve been sitting in too many business trainings when…
“Hey mom, I have a question for you! How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”
“Is the woodchuck business-minded? A person’s potential is determined by their mindset. Is he coachable? Teachable? Dedicated? Hardworking? Can he use a phone? How badly does he want this wood? You know, the woodchuck could leverage his woodchucking abilities if he brought in a team of woodchuckers to work with him.”
“… You do know that was a rhetorical question, right?”
Retrospection
The open road
We must go beyond textbooks, go out into the bypaths and untrodden depths of the wilderness and travel and explore and tell the world the glories of our journey.
John Hope Franklin
Sometimes I feel like I have my toes curled around the edge of the universe.
Very encouraging
As we were driving to Salt Lake City, somewhere between Eastern and Western Oregon on either the I-82 E or the I-84 E (too specific, I know), we ran into a particular stretch of consecutive highway exits with the most bizarre (not to mention, creepy) names.
First there was the exit to Coffin Road. Next came Poverty Flat. Following that, Old Emmigrant Road. But my personal favorite? The exit to Deadman’s Pass with the gigantic sign next to it saying—and I kid you not—”DRIVE SAFELY!”
Just one of the many reasons I love road trips: you never know what you’ll see.
Toto, I don’t think we’re in Vancouver anymore
At a KFC drive thru around 8pm somewhere in eastern Oregon:
“Welcome to KFC, what can I get for you tonight?”
“Can I have a veggie chicken burger?”
“A what?”
“Veggie chicken burger?”
“You mean the ten piece?”
“No, the VEGGIE. CHICKEN. BURGER.”
“The ten piece, right?”
“NO. It’s a burger with a vegetarian chicken patty in it..”
“Do you want thighs or strips?”
“I want the VEGETARIAN. CHICKEN. BURGER.”
(A lady, presumably his supervisor, comes on)
“How can I help you, madam?”
“Do you have the vegetarian chicken burger?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Click.
Unsure of whether or not the lady in the talking box at KFC actually hung up on us, we drive forward to the window, hoping that maybe they can understand us a bit better if we talk to them face to face, and here is what happens:
“So you wanted the 10 piece, right?”
“Umm, no. We wanted the vegetarian chicken burger.”
“Thighs or strips?”
“No no no—its a BURGER made with a vegetarian imitation chicken patty… It’s not actually meat. They sell them in Canada…”
(Guy looks utterly confused, like, vege-whaaaat?)
“Let me… go ask my manager.”
“Yeah, I don’t think we have those things here.”
Day 1: Overdrive Dance Party
After fifteen hours on the road, we safely arrived in Salt Lake City today around 3:30pm. I’m incredibly tired right now, even though its actually only 9:45pm back at home, but I wanted to get some of these photos up before I welcomed my lovely queen sized bed with open arms.
XanGo usually starts their annivarsary conventions off with a themed dance party to break the ice. This year’s dance party theme was “overdrive”, however, as you’ll soon see, people mostly dressed up however they wanted to. I didn’t dress up at all, because I’m obviously no fun.
And we’re supposed to be good at hockey
From the front page of The Vancouver Sun:
The Canucks are the longest-running melodrama in our city. In 37 years, they’ve never won a Stanley Cup and have been to the finals only twice. Yet we, the fans, have never lost the faith. Forever Faithful—The Canucks Movie pays tribute to us, their diehard boosters.
Iain MacIntyre
I’m no hockey fan or sports genius, but even I know enough to realize that playing for thirty seven years and never once winning is a little sad, and not in the boo hoo kind of way, but more in the “wow, this hockey team is an embarrassment to our city” kind of way.
Of elections, conventions, and republicans
Early tomorrow morning we’re off to Salt Lake City, Utah to attend the 6th annual XanGo Convention. Some of you may recall that I went last year and it was an absolute blast—and also like last year, that invitation to stalk me down still stands.
This year we’re driving down instead of flying. This is what my mother had to say about that:
Me: “You know, tonight is election night and tomorrow morning we’re going to be driving through a Republican state to get to an even more Republican state…”
My mother: “Oh no! If Obama wins, there will be violence on the road!”
And she was totally serious. Aren’t Canadians cute?
Meanwhile, I’m curious: Who do you think will win the 2008 U.S. Presidential election tonight, and why?
The Four Seasons
Every year, day after day, year after year, mother nature acts out a story.
It starts with the birth of the world. The clouds started to part, showering the earth with life-giving rain. The grass comes to life, growing greener and greener by day. The flowers wake up from the ground, starting as buds, soon to bloom into a picture of beauty. The trees wake up from their sleep, and some of her children come out to play after a long nap. The inhabitants of the earth called this spring, for everything had sprung to life.
The earth continued to grow and grow, pulsing with newfound vitality. The sun started to show up to work more often, cuddling the planet with light and warmth. Everything from the foundations of the earth to the bluish tint in the skies was at its peak, its climax. The inhabitants of the earth called this summer, for what had started in spring had somehow bled into summer.
Point, missed.
The scene: It’s family time. I’m showing my father my iPhone, while my brother is showing my mother his PSP. He’s customized it to have the exact same kind of interface as the iPhone. It does a lot of the same things an iPhone does. My brother and my mother are currently surfing the internet on it.
My mother: “Bring up her blog. What did she write on that thing now?”
My brother, pretending to read out loud: “I hate my life. I hate my mom. I’m really sorry I got an iPhone, because Denzil’s PSP is just so much cooler. This will be my last post here. Save the flies. I hate my life. The birds are dying. I’m going to kill myself now.”
My mother: “… DID SHE REALLY WRITE ‘I HATE MY MOM’?!!”
Vegan Tropical Cheesecake
“Vegan? Ew!”
Don’t lie. Most of you are inclined to think the very same way whenever you hear that word used in reference to foods that are normally supposed to be non-vegan. If you’ve never had the chance to taste vegan or vegetarian dishes prepared right, I don’t blame you—there are a lot of meat and dairy “alternatives” out there that are simple awful.
This vegan tropical cheesecake has actually been a hit with a number of my meat-eating, non-vegan friends and family; so much so, I’ve actually had several requests for the recipe, which is why I decided to post it here. It’s super easy to make, and with no added sugar or dairy, it’s a whole lot less fattening and better for your arteries. Win win!
Turn down any date invitation with ease and grace! A how-to guide by Chanel.
The subject for tonight’s lecture can be easily twisted to fit in the same category as rich people whining about the complications of having too much money; a non-issue. But don’t be fooled—it is a real issue for many women, an issue I feel it is my personal duty to address with my timeless wisdom.
I’m talking about unwanted advances from men. Sometimes it’s the sweet guy you recently befriended who is clearly into you while you are just trying to be friendly. They ask you out for coffee or something. You cringe a little on the inside, because hello, you don’t like him like that.
Maybe you accept, because you’re nice or whatever. I always duck and dodge.
As I was sitting in the dentist’s office today, contemplating life’s mysteries, I had a stunning revelation: Maybe instead of spending time coming up with new and creative ways to avoid men and escape their unwanted advances, I should get a boyfriend. Preferably, a fake one. Even better if he was gay, married or into someone else. Fabulous if he was all three.
Laundry day
“I think it’s time to do laundry”, dog says.
One of the assumptions people make about me that I find most amusing is the one that involves me being an uptight “clean freak”. You know—one of those crazy people who keep their living spaces spotless and have an aneurysm when you don’t use a coaster. Sounds lovely, really, but it’s not me.
I usually tend to wait until I’ve run out of clothes to wear and/or can’t walk through my room to do laundry/cleaning. The two are basically synonymous to each other, as they almost always get done at the same time. Unfortunately, neither get done nearly as often as they should.
Lucky in cards, unlucky in love
Over this past summer, I probably played more card games with more people than anything else. It was a fun thing to do when you’re out in the middle of nowhere with no internet, no phone, no city life to speak of and surrounded by a ton of friends.
So we played. We played President, Egyptian Rat Screw, five more rounds of Egyptian Rat Screw, and then more President. It was that or hiking, and as I learned on the last Saturday afternoon of my middle-of-nowhere adventure, hiking is not among my strongest talents.
Wanted
Setting: Subway – 3490 Kingsway in Burnaby, around 7pm, Saturday October 25th.
You: Henry, from Czech Republic, white iPhone, bacon and chicken sub on whole wheat bread with ranch dressing, no olives. Lives just off Kingsway. Party Saturday night. The lady behind the counter said I was pretty and you agreed. You told her you were too shy to ask me my name, so I told you instead.
Me: Chanel, half Fijian, quarter French, quarter British, no iPhone present, veggie sub on whole wheat, Italian dressing, with olives. Lives by Killarney. Was heading to North Vancouver.
They say strangers are friends you just haven’t met yet. Hi. :)
Last words
For the last couple hours, I have been listening to a life struggle on the brink of death.
I refer to a fly that is trapped somewhere in my room. I don’t know precisely where he is, but I can hear him. Once every minute or two, he frantically attempts to escape from where he is stuck. It makes a buzzing sound. In the last hour, that buzzing has become less frequent. All I can think is, gosh, that noise is irritating. I hope it stops.
Do you know what it means when the buzzing sound stops? It means the fly is DEAD. It means that there was a living creature somewhere in my room, struggling to stay alive, and I sat by listening to his death pleas, doing nothing, and the only thing that crossed my mind was, “gosh, that noise is irritating”, followed by, “hey, I should blog about this!”
If this fly was a human, you’d be coming at me with the police and handcuffs. If this fly was a dog or cat, you’d be coming at me with pitchforks and PETA. But this fly is a fly, and everyday in the world people are putting flies out of their misery, and nobody bats an eye.
If we bring humans, household pets and household pests down to their simplest form, they are all lives. They are all alive. They all have eyes. They all have hearts. They all even have nervous systems. Earlier this month, I dished out a small portion of my savings fund to save my rabbit’s life. There are people in the world who hunt rabbits for fun. Who am I to decide who’s more superior to live?
White flag
There will always be people in the world who will try to tear you down.
We don’t always mean harm, even if we cause it. It has been said before that we can only hate the things in people that we ourselves have within us. Sometimes, we lash out; problems, clutter and baggage in our lives can wear down our abilities to be empathetic and cut our human patience short.
Sometimes, it’s just a matter of being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. There are times in life where we are more quick to snap; more quick to find an outlet to release our own frustrations and shortcomings on to someone else. One day we’ll feel bad that that outlet had to be you.
Professions that make bad husbands
Alternatively titled, “Why Chanel could be end up a cynical spinster”.
- Doctor: Big ego, on a power trip, married to work.
- Lawyer: Will argue, likes to be right, married to work.
- Artist: Poor. Crazy. Over-the-top philosophical. Always looking for meaning in things. Will get into “inspirational” moods at any given moment. Work = Life, Life = Work.
- Musician: Poor. Cocky. Wishy-washy. Not too bright. TROUBLE.
- Writer: Poor. Sometimes emo. Possibly intellectual. Works if you’re a writer.
- Pilot: Cocky. Flirty. Girlfriend in every zip code.
- Recording label owner: Used to people falling at his feet. On a power trip.
- Contract killer: Cold. May have trouble expressing how he really feels.
- Psychiatrist: Good communication. Too rational and analytical. Possibly married to work. May assume he “understands” you when he really doesn’t.
- Entrepreneur: Always looking to start something. Next it could be a relationship with another woman, if it isn’t a new business venture with the next Donald Trump. Married to work, or poor and faking it.
- Hairdresser: Constantly surrounded by girls. Forms emotional bonds with girls who tell him their life story. Usually very talkative and outgoing (bad if you’re not).
- Professional Poker Player: Unstable. Gambles. Sleeps around. Will wear sunglasses indoors.
- Computer programmer: More interested in his computer(s) than you.
- Director: Good: Takes charge. Bad: May end up in charge of everything. Also: What happens On Location doesn’t “count”.
- Wal-mart greeter: Not terribly financially stable.
- Investor of any kind (stock market, real estate, etc.): Often very materialistic. Obsessed and/or attached to money. Cocky. Unstable.
- Used car salesman: Greasy hair. Sleezy. May have a lying problem.
- Fashion photographer: Sometimes sleezy. Flirty. Promiscuous. Around too many nearly-naked models. Possibly a modelizer.
- Househusband: Does all the cleaning and cooking. Also does all food shopping. Sleeps with any woman while wife is at work. (Thx, Roro!)
- Politician: Big ego. Likes power/possibly controlling. Never keeps promises. Tends to quit in bad situations. (Thx, Ann!)
- Journalist: Nosey. Can’t keep secrets. Loves to gossip. Never commits to a single relationship. (Thx, Ann!)
- Landscaper: Never totally clean. Bad back/shoulder that requires daily massage. Sees no issue with dancing on ladders with power tools. (Thx, Kaiti!)
- Fitness trainer: Big into being fit; bad if you’re not. Sleeps around with fit women; extra bad if you’re not one of them. (Thx, Joe!)
- Police: Big ego. Always on a power trip. Anxious to pull out the “piece”. Has a stick that gets longer when he whips it out. (Thx, TL!)
- Baker: Creative. Precise. A little too prone to an early death-by-chocolate. (Thx, Lizzy!)
- Chef: Not unless you want to be Mrs. “20-to-lose” for the rest of your life. (Thx, Larissa!)
Anything to add?
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