They're watching me.

So I get this call yesterday from this guy telling me I have to go down to my bank ASAP. Why? Becuase one of the places I used my card may be collecting PIN's and card numbers using an overlay (goes over the real machine). Fun.

My mom and I went down today to get that taking care of. My faithful card was finally cut in half and I was given a new temp one [look for the new on in the mail! bah.] While we where there I figured I might as well get going with those investments I've been meaning to do. So I opened a second banking account and invested most of my savings in some safe mutual funds and such.

[Do you get the feeling that "they" are watching me? I'm afraid to use my card now]

Also my mom is bugging me to go to the doctor about my cough. Geez it's not like I'm coughing up [that much] blood.

Best Friends Forever

Sometimes I wonder if Pamie is reading my mind. Or maybe she proves that I'm not the only one.

Making Friends

Confessions of...

I never thought it'd be possible for me to read a book, hate the protagonist and yet keep reading and not stop reading until I finish. I just finished Confessions of a Shopaholic. Definately Chick Lit as it only took me a couple hours to read. At times I wanted to smack the girl across the face and say "get a grip!" But I couldn't stop. I wanted to see if she'd be put in jail. Sadly I was disappointed.

You should read it if you get around to it. Meanwhile it's off to the library for me for the other books in the series.

Hey Bitches!

I'm so sick of people bitching about the province (the weather, the government, feminisim, gay pride, music, kids, real estate, the list goes on and on). I talk shit a lot because I'm a whiner by nature and I talk about traveling the world but I honsetly think this is an awesome place to live.

My parents came to Canada in two seperate groups of immigrants. Both groups were stationed here. By the time I hit puberty every single person in both groups had left for Toronto or Vancouver. Except my parents. Determined to own a house and earn a living they stayed where they knew they could reach their goals. The year I graduated my parents finally could say they owned our house, not the bank. My dad teaches at the local community college and my mom runs her own business. My brother and I have always had everything we needed. And all those other people in the groups? Some, like my parents, were able to get a foothold in society and work their way up. But most weren't able to. For a small fraction it was because they're lazy fools. For the greater of them it was because they weren't able to work their way up, with the higher living costs, higher amounts of immigrants all fighting for the same jobs and to a small degree the desire to look like they've made it. Designer clothes and high tech sound systems have sucked many old friends into debt.

But that's not the point. The point is this is a great city, in a great province. We may not be the best drivers in the world and it may be slightly boring for some but think of all the great things we have. And when the city tries to boost some morale and spirit all we get are people dissing it. "We could've done better" or "It's stupid" Well no matter what they come up with it's nothing without the support of the people. We are the ones that make or break the whole idea. So what if it's a bit dorky or dated or boring? Look around you! Most of us are dorky or dated or boring. Some are all 3. And more. I wasn't overly excited about the idea at first, mostly because it was so sudden but I've decided why shouldn't I be excited? It's something new and since doing nothing only gets us a lot of little wankers complaining, well now they can't say we didn't try.

Without our support it's just 2 words. If we get behind them they become so much more.

It's sad really

Wow, this is an all time low for me. I'm hiding at school. Not exactly hiding but still sad on a Friday night. Most people my age would be out, having fun, doing exciting things. But me? No, I wallow in self-pity and hide at school. Although I was at a coffee place for a couple of hours.

I just couldn't stand it at home anymore. Not only do we not have A/C (it's beyond humid right now) but it doesn't matter what I say I get yelled at. If I try being passive and not talking to anyone I'm being rude. If I talk and it's even a little sarcastic [even when I'm not trying to be, it comes out that way and my parents are really over sensitive about stuff like this] I'm being disrespectful. Okay I'm sorry but when my dad says "cut the steak in half" I cut it in half, without questions [because apparently I shouldn't question him]. But then I get glared at and snapped at because he meant I should butterfly it. Well of course that's what he meant by "cut the steak in half." So I've decided fine, I will just follow directions, answer nicely and not at all disrespectful or in any way besides "yes father" and "yes mother." No longer will I attempt to have any sort of personality or life of my own except when I leave their presence. Because apparently children should never ever display any act of selfishness or signs that they might have a mind of their own.

Seriously like they're the best parents in the world. Like I have no right to be angry when one of them tells me one thing and the other tells me the complete opposite. Make up your own effing mind and get back to me. Until then don't expect me to be any more than a robot in your presence. I've always bended to their rules. And now that I'm 19 I really don't have to if I don't want to. But I do anyways. I'm such an effing pansy. I should just leave.

Maybe I should bow at them before I leave the room like some sort of 15th century Viet slave to the Chinese master. Only now it'd be mindless daughter to all-mighty parents.

[You'd think by now we'd've gotten this all sorted out. Most kids begin to form some sort of friendship with their parents by now. But no. I have to sit here sounding like some sort of angst-filled 15 year old when I'm not. I'm just plain pissed off. They obviously know nothing about me, seeing as they can't even distinguish between my being silly and playful and my being rude and disrespectful. I am thisclose to just walking away and never coming back.]

A weekend of nothingness

A weekend of half-hearted studying, my dog biting my finger, spilling boiling hot soup all over my hand and lots & lots of chinese food. Oh and I wrote a nice long 8-page letter for Tesarski in there somewhere. That's when the half-hearted studying came in. My Physiology midterm was today and I want to say I did good but something in me tells me not to. So I won't. Unless I actually did good in which case I'll want to say I did good before I know I did good. But I won't. Just in case. You get me?

What has Mario done for you lately?

Would you trade your memories for anything? Even knowing they messed you up, spin you around, pulled you back and never let you get any peace? Would you do it? Would I do it?

I was talking on the phone with Tesarski the other day. She mentioned that as a child she never had any gaming systems. Which I find cool, whatever, you know? Not having Nintendo NES or SuperNintendo made her as much herself as my having every Nintendo system since NES made me who I am today. Kids these days are messed up because of video games I think. But it was a simplier time back then. It was a special kind of innocence trying to shoot that damn dog in Duck Hunt. Did anyone ever kill him? It wasn't violent, it wasn't unhealthy, it was just... the dog wouldn't die!

So I thought about it. What good did Mario & Luigi ever do for me? Then I remembered. The one of two or three clear memories before the age of 5. My childhood best friend, Thi, and I were sitting on his bathroom floor trying to get the game clear of dust. His mom had tried to hide the system in the bathroom cabinet but to two 5 year olds dying to get to the next level hiding Nintendo won't do you any good. We'll find it.

The apartment door slams. It's his dad. I'm not sure if it's the talk I heard as I started to get older but I vividly remember his parents fighting. We ended up hiding in the bathroom not wanting to get in trouble for finding the game while his parents are so obviously angry at each other. Now his mom used to be fairly good friends with my mom, that's how we met. We were born a month apart. No one has ever told me anything when I ask but I've gathered so far that his dad was a gambler. They were having money issues. They split a few years later. His mom took him and his sister. They stayed at our house for a week when I was 7. I would go to school during the day and he would stay at home. We'd play Duck Hunt when I got home. Then they left for Toronto at the end of the week and I never saw him again. Last I heard they're in Vancouver and his mom still dates. Scandalous for a grown Vietnamese woman. I miss him sometimes and I wonder what he's like now. We'll both turn 20 this year. Him a month older like he used to like to remind me.

My point is that's one of my clearest childhood memories. A mixture of video games, fighting, and hiding on a damp bathroom floor. Would I ever trade it for an upgrade?

Rain rain go away

So I'm on the bus right? It's a nice day, kind of humid but nice. I'm wearing jean capris and tshirt. I brought a hoodie 'cause it's always cold in my classroom. The weatherman said there would be rain but why should I believe a guy that has, without fail, lied to me everyday for the last month? All of a sudden it starts pouring. Buckets and buckets of water just comes out of no where. I start worrying. I mean my stop was coming up and it didn't seem like it was letting up. I put on my zip up hoodie, I'm ready for whatever nature has in store for me. I step off the bus.

...

Nothing could've prepared me for that. My glasses covered in water. I couldn't see anything. My feet were wet and in a massive puddle that covered the entire bus stop. I feared for my precious iPod in my bag. I flung myself on to my bag to save it. Myself and 3 other people were trying to see enough to be able to cross the street to the other side where our next bus stop is. Cars are zooming past like some stupid Mazda commerical.

"The bus is coming!" yells one of the guys.

Oh crap. Now I had to face a life or death dilemma: save my iPod or search for my bus pass. I decided to try and do both. Sweat, hair wax & foundation poured in my eyes along with about a litre of water. Lucky for us the next cars stopped to let us cross. Unlucky for us, we'd already spent more than 5 seconds out in the rain and were soaked to the bone. I dripped all the way to my seat, blind as my glasses had fogged up. And to top off my afternoon: the bus driver didn't hear the bell nor did he see the big red sign light up and drove past my stop. Yup. So I walked an extra 5 minutes out of my way to get home.

The result:And a very unhappy asain girl.

Obsession

Shopping. I swear it's a problem with me. When I'm not working that many hours at the restaurant I tend to shop more. I mean I spent almost $200 the other weekend. Granted it was for stuff I had needed for months. I still felt bad. I don't normally get to shop. I needed a new shirt for work. I needed a new totebag for school. I needed new underwear. I did [not] need 2 pairs of capris/shorts. I did [not] need a new CD. I did [not] need to go to dollarama at all. [I don't need a lot of things.] And then the other day I went down Osborne. That place is my weakness. I got a pair of second hand jean capris. Dude are they comfy. They're stretchy & the right length and they actually make me look tall. Which is a feat no other pant has ever accomplished in my lifetime. I had given up hope that it was possible. They were a little tight at the waist but I cut little slits so it's all good.

But then I read Apoorva's blog. I met her through EWB [Engineers Without Borders] and she's in Ghana this summer doing work. Man I wish I could be like people like her. But I can't. Not that I'm completely shallow or selfish or self-centred. I may seem like that on the surface but I know there are people suffering. I would do anything possible if I thought it would help. But I don't, usually. I'll talk to people about issues. I support charities and I go to the odd meeting/fundraiser. And you'd think, me being all for organizing events and such, would jump right into things like EWB & the UN & whatever. It's mostly because I don't believe it'll make much of a difference. I mean I can see it makes a difference but I've always held the belief that I won't make a difference. And if you don't believe in yourself how can you hope to help others? That's what I've always wanted to do. Help others I mean. But sometimes I doubt myself. So I hide behind a shell that says I don't really care. But I do. I care a lot.

And that brings me to my next "point." I care too much. I take almost everything anyone says to me in mean spirit to heart. I don't take negative comments about myself very well. In fact I can't take it at all. I dwell on it for days and months and years. I can actually remember a comment my grade 6 science teacher made to a group of my friends about me [who immediately told me because as you'll see, it was a vile thing she said. At least to a bunch of 11 year olds it was.] You see I did not make honour roll my first term of grade 7 year. On a quick visit to our elementary school my friends mentioned it to our teacher, who asked about me [I wasn't there]. Her comment?

"I'm not really surprised, seeing as english wasn't her first language."

Not exactly racist but not exactly nice either. Considering I had a 90% in english that year and the classes I messed up on were science & gym. She could not have known the details and yet she taught me for a number of my elementary years. English had long become my most comfortable language. My junior high teachers eventually realized I had only missed honours by 1% & upped my marks so it didn't "ruin" the rest of my terms. And I went on to be on the honour roll every term for the rest of middle & high school. I knew that. My friends knew that. And what does it matter that some bitter old witch didn't know that? Nothing. It doesn't matter at all. And yet it still bothers me that I was never able to tell her these things. Ten years later it still bothers me. What kind of a loser am I?

I cling to the past. Whether or not it's good for me doesn't really matter. Especially after I transferred to MMC. That place saved me. I know it sounds cheesy and I know most people hated high school. I'm one of them. Before I transferred I was... lost. I don't know a better word for it. I was a mean, spiteful person. I'm not exactly sure why I had any friends at all. I didn't really fit in with anyone. I can honestly say I don't think I'd be here if I was forced to stay behind. I was so far gone by that point that I'm surprised that by simply going to a different school I was able to pull myself away from the cliff. I read my diary enteries from grade 7 - 9 and they progressively get worse and worse, darker and darker. I was plagued by rumours and threats and glares by girls that didn't even know me. I was harassed by guys that thought I was so smittened by their "boy next door" charms that I would help them with whatever math problem they brought to me. By that point I was known as the weird, brainy girl that read big thick books while eating her lunch.

But at MMC? I became a new person. I think the only people who can vouch for me would be Lisa & Becky. They transferred with me. Actually I followed them to MMC. I owe that experience to them, who convinced me to apply. Maybe that's why I cling to high school so much. It was a time where I was able to be as weird and loud and obsessive and bookish and geeky as I wanted and I still was happy with my friends. I devoted myself to clubs and charities and school drama productions and school and friends. Things had already begun to unravel near graduation but I refused to see it. I lost a friend I considered one of my best and never got the chance to tell her I was sorry. I still have a book I borrowed from her and never returned.

Most of my high school experience was happy and the parts that weren't? I still relive them over and over until I want to cry. But then I remember the part where I'm still here typing away my angsty teenage feelings and I smile. The smile goes away, however, when I realize I still don't know who I am and where I'm going and why I'm going anywhere to begin with and how it really doesn't matter to anyone but my self-centred self. All I want to do is stay home and watch Friends reruns over and over.

This was a lot longer than I expected [2 hours longer]. But every once in a while it's good to let everything out right? Sorry the thoughts were neither fully formed nor were they in any comprehensible order. You never want to take a trip in my head 'cause it's scary-messy.

And with your grace...

My mom tells me my cousin Hung in Vietnam finally got his visa. Meaning he can come to Canada whenever he chooses. We're waiting until after my grampa's house is finished being built over there, sometime in August, and he's all settled. Then Hung buys his ticket and is off to the unknown that is Canada. I'm sort of scared. I mean he's gonna be living with us until he gets on his feet. Or whatever. I'm not really sure when he's "supposed" to move out. Plus he's a couple years older and [ew] he's a boy. Definately not comfortable with that. I guess I'll get used to it. I wish my cousins in Vancouver could come live here. Nhu, older than me by 4 years, is so cool [I'm, like, in awe of her] & she's smart & all that. Then there's the little ones. Diane, Kate & Ivy [9, 6, 3 years respectively] are seriously the cutest things I've ever seen. I love 'em to death. Mom asked me if I wanted to visit this summer but with school & work I didn't think it was best to push it.

I'm already stretched, money-wise, to begin with. Plus the parents are pushing me to get a second job. After Physiology I'm just in Math II until August 5th & that's an evening course. So they want me to get a day job. According to my mom, "What else are you going to do during the day?" Uh, study? Recover from last night's 2.5hr lecture? I already failed this course once mother I think I can easily do that again. Grr.