And this is why I take public transit everywhere
On the way home from Surrey tonight (DON’T EVEN SAY A WORD), a girl sitting across from me on the Skytrain started a conversation with me. It began with a comment about a fighting couple that had just gotten off and ended with the story of how she had just broken up with her boyfriend of twelve years.
They have two kids together. She always paid for things like groceries and utilities. He always paid for things like the TV and the barbecue. Guess who got what.
Breakups are always so messy. The Dividing Of The Stuff makes it all that much harder.
But damn, 12 years? And two kids?
It kind of made me realize, shit, the things we go through for happiness.
This will probably get us shot
The other day a good friend and I were talking about terrorists, because you know, that subject totally comes up in all my conversations. RIGHT UP THERE WITH THE RISING COST OF OIL PRICES.
Brainwashing aside, don’t these guys ever question the situation they’ve found themselves in? Forget about the blowing up and killing part - they’re promised a certain number of virgins in the next life for “martyrdom”… Aren’t you going to ask for photos first?
After all, you may never know who you’re going to get…
Male friend:
Personally, I’d need to see their pictures firstMale friend:
Maybe like a myspaceChanel:
I wonder what would happen if one of them asked?Male friend:
Terrorist: “May I view a picture of one of my virgins before I strap these bombs on my back?”Chanel:
Muhammad: “Yes, you may” … *hands over a picture*Chanel:
Terrorist: “WTF DUDE, THAT’S MY SISTER!”
For the things you wanted to say
As seen on the back of a stall door in the ladies washroom at a rest stop off the I-5 North:
I love reading the things people write on the walls in the stalls of bathrooms.
At first glance, most bathroom graffiti typically looks like trash—you know, the usual suspects of “JESSICA WUZ HERE” and “JT+BS FOR EVA”—and if you take it for face value, it’s nothing more than that. But if you really think about it, everything written on those walls has a story behind them. People do everything for a reason, even if they don’t consciously know the reason for it at the time.
Whenever I read the things people write on walls, I simply can’t help but wonder about the author’s life: Are JT and BS still together? What’s Jessica doing now? … And when you read particularly chilling words like “I can’t take this anymore”… Are you still hanging in there?
It’s such an odd thought, looking over a cluttered wall and knowing that many, many people have been exactly where you are, and of all those people, some of them felt particularly impressed to write something on the walls surrounding them. They’re each strangers to the next, all going through different things in life, some coming in, some going out… But the one thing these strangers all have in common is the wall. They wrote on the wall.
We’re not all that far apart from each other as may we think.
What’s the most memorable thing you’ve ever seen on a bathroom wall?
Remember when you asked me not to blog about this?
You know you’ve reached a certain point in your career as a pseudo-blogger when your friends start asking you not to blog about certain things:
The tail-end of a lengthy discussion on those who live life superficially vs. those who don’t (also known as CHANEL, YOU THINK TOO MUCH):
The Friend says: (10:37:11 PM)
You drive me crazyThe Friend says: (10:37:20 PM)
And this is just MSNThe Friend says: (10:37:30 PM)
… Please don’t write a blog on this :P
With more and more of my offline friends, family and acquaintances finding this website (which, admittedly, isn’t hard; all you need to do is google me), the subject of my online writings have never come up more often. Specifically, the question of “You’re not going to blog about this, are you?”
To those offline friends, family and acquaintances, and maybe our mailman: I am on the hunt for my next project and new material. Lock your doors. Maybe even close your windows. But be especially careful what you say or do around me, because you never know—it might just end up on here.
The best kind of April Fool’s joke
This just came in the mail today:
Check out the issue date.
More comic relief from my brother
Talking about a piece of gum that dropped on the floor:
“I’m going to go wash this.”
“Don’t wash it! It will only turn sticky.”
“I washed a cookie I dropped on the floor once…”
“Denzil, washing doesn’t help everything.”
“I know… that’s why I don’t take baths anymore.”
Looking good, March!
The month isn’t even over yet, but it’s already quite apparent that March has been the month of doing things I thought I could never do. First it was the 5K run in 36 minutes and 49 seconds. Next it was the dance competition (and bringing home my first ever trophies!) I told everyone I couldn’t “wouldn’t” do. And today? Today I ran twenty minutes. Straight. WITHOUT STOPPING OR WANTING TO DIE.
You probably won’t understand the significance of this, and that’s okay. But I do. I remember the girl who couldn’t make it halfway around the track without dying - but tonight I was the girl who ran a total of 68 minutes, running 10, 15, 20, and 10 minutes straight with 1 minute breaks in between. I did it.
If I keep this up, I could actually achieve world domination before I turn twenty-five.
Now, if only I could take my driver’s test…
Someone you never talk to is now in a relationship with someone you’ve never heard of
Abstract thought of the hour: Facebook is incredibly creepy and stalker-like when it comes to publishing information about your friends’ every online (and in some cases, offline) move.
And while we’re on that topic: Has anyone ever noticed that Facebook’s feeds are a new breed of passive gossip? I’m reminded of one of the first things anyone ever told me about Facebook mere hours after I joined:
When a couple breaks up, Facebook knows about it before they do.
What is the strangest thing you’ve ever learned (intentionally or not) about any of your friends through a social networking site like Facebook?
It’s moments like these that make me proud to have him as a brother
9:30 pm, over instant noodles I just cooked for the two of us:
Me: “Denzil… Do you ever wish your butt was bigger?”
My brother: “Do you ever wish your butt was *smaller*?”
Sunshine: Now back in style!
From the front page of The Vancouver Sun’s Weekend Review:
Sunshine is making a comeback.
I know precisely when it went out of style, too—In fact, I believe it was somewhere between “snow”, “sunsets at 4pm” and “hell”. No joke. I’m more than ready for summer.
