~Birthday Wishes~

When we were in our youth
We had dreams that we could fly
We had friends that weren't visible
And love that never died

And as we grow old and felt the pain
That we always knew the truth
That love would heal if we stayed true
To the dreams of our youth




Today would have marked the 30^th birthday for our friend. Every day it is always with great sorrow that we are reminded that he is no longer with us, but he would know that his friends and family continue to honour his memory by trying to live our lives to the fullest: supporting one another, loving each other, and chasing those aspirations – that even though we think are unattainable and “out there” – he supported fully.

To mark this special day here are thirty of my most treasured memories of him.

1.    The critique of my bright pink lego-hoodie that supposedly “did nothing for my figure”. I don’t care what you say, that hoodie is freaking comfortable and a perfect addition to my slob-wardrobe.

2.    Screwing up that annotated bibliography, which forced us to have to put in a couple extra days to re-do and fix it. (I can hear your sinister laugh over it still)

3.    Aquarius vs. Gemini

	Aquarius	Gemini
Symbol:	The Water Bearer	The Twins
Element:	Air	Air
Favourite Colour:	Turquoise	Green
Key Body Parts:	Ankles, Circulatory System	Arms, shoulders, lungs
Ruling Planet:	Uranus	Mercury
Strengths:	Progressive, original humanitarian, independent	Curiousity, ability to share ideas, adaptable, affectionate, kind
Weaknesses:	Runs from emotional expression, uncompromising, temperamental, aloof	Scattering energy in too many places at once, fickle in love, nervous, short attention span

I think the evidence I provided speaks for itself since circulatory system trumps everything but we probably should have done this research together.

4.    The non-Asian style karaoke night in a very busy pub with a lot of strangers and you singing way too many Taylor Swift songs.

5.    The perfect rainy days: writing, Adele, tea (with cream and sugar though – yuck!)

6.    How weird it was that whenever you called I was always in the middle of eating something and then you constantly demanding I send some of it over to you. (I swear those courier pigeons must have eaten it all)

7.    The day I learned that you were a hockey-freak. It was incredibly frightening. I still have nightmares about it.

8.    The day you learned I like rap and hip-hop. Especially Kanye West. I think you were incredibly frightened and probably had nightmares over it.

9.    Bets during the Olympics; our best one being for the men’s hockey gold medal game. I’m just really happy I won because I would not have been too pleased keeping my end of that bargain.

10. The endless ridicule I heard from you over my French-speaking abilities. You = douche.

11.  Receiving parcels in the mail.

12.  Going out for Korean food the first time together where you ate enough for three people and walked out with red-chilli peppers in your teeth. Oh, glorious day.

13.  Two words: THUNDER THIGHS! (And you thought you were too old to learn anything new)

14.  Pirate wenches and Fabio. That’s all I’m going to say.

15.  The day I came into class with my disastrously, short haircut only to have you point out that our hair pretty much looked the exact same (chin-length and wavy). It only got worse when I came in the next day wearing a grey beanie-cap to cover my head and you wore a similar beanie the exact same colour on the same day. Dear God I never heard the end of it.

16.  Our tagline: “... and all that other optimistic shit you love.”

17. All that time I put in over the phone, explaining how to set up skype step-by-step only to realize once we were done that your laptop did not have a built in webcam.

18. J: I don’t know about med school but I do know I want to contribute to society. I don’t know like stopping forest fires, taming wild horses, rescuing seals, or maybe learning sign.”
C: Stop talking.
J: Wha-?
C: That how you can contribute to society. Stop talking.

19.  Drunk-dialing looking for the red underwear.

20. Clubbing in downtown Seattle. Actually just that whole night was one weird event after another.

21.  Peanut butter and relish burritos. Fucking nasty.

22. Sitting through a Sex and the City episode and thinking once these 44-whatever-minutes are up I’m going to kill you.  

23.  All those hours (and huge phone bills) spent talking long distance on the phone. It was hard though because we were constantly out of synch though. Exactly one year ago we were talking for so long that I made you late for your own birthday dinner. My bad.

24. Walking around Stanley Park, trying to think of something to do. We did come up with some creative ideas; one which involved jumping off logs and me face-planting into the sand.

25. *queue in fight music* vs. *insert kiss here*

26. All those times I sang “Teenage Dream” to you and you said you were going to go crazy when secretly you actually kind of liked it.

27. When you told me something you were happy about and then followed it by saying “fist pump” for the first time.

28. Stealing your Members Only jacket out of your suitcase. Its absence was supposedly the first thing you noticed when you started unpacking and you called me right away knowing I was the culprit. Probably helped that I confessed right away but there wasn’t much you could do about it over on the other side of the world. You even bought a smaller jacket that would fit me better hoping I would mail back yours but in the end I just wound up with two jackets.

29. Swapping ipods and messing with and creating playlists. Yes, yes you get credit for 30% of the artists I like now.

30. à toi, pour toujours

Happy birthday Jesse. We all miss you terribly and wish for nothing but the opportunity to create new, lasting memories with you, but we know you’re watching over us.

-Caro-

Scrambling to catch up

Eeeek! Over a month since my last post? Unacceptable! Ever since then, I have been scrambling between studying for finals, cramming for finals, and then writing those finals. Once those were out of the way it was pretty much packing for my little road trip and setting off for that. I’ve been back for a bit but I’ve still been a bit too busy to actually catch up on posting any blog updates but I promise I will soon. Once I get my first exam for summer school out of the way I will devote one day to bring my sorry ass up to speed. For the future, you can look forward to me talking about:

·         My road trip

·         Book signings

·         Bonnie Dune concert

·         Other music updates

·         Fashion faux-pas post

And much, much more! I managed to update my “Eye Candy of the Week” and my widget boxes but until I can sit down and write a lengthier post, just be patient with me. I’ll be back soon enough!

-Caro-

Got Ink?

A couple days ago (specifically on April 7^th) I was being a little vague or “mysterious” (as some people wanted to point out to me) with my tweets and facebook statuses. If anyone felt that way it’s probably because you didn’t catch any of the earlier things that I had posted the days leading up to it. Well now I’m here to clear it all up: I got a tattoo.

On April 7^th at 1:15 I walked in for my tattoo appointment at Funhouse Tattoo (located right on the corner of Cambie and 14^th). I’m mostly here to chronicle that experience and a little of the back story as to what/why I got it.

Now I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo – starting way, way back. Sure maybe when I was younger it was about being rebellious, but if you know me, I’m about as rebellious as a pinecone. It wasn’t too hard for me to work out the pros and cons of getting a tattoo. Yes, I do realize it is permanent and that in like 40 years it’s going to look all saggy with my old age, but I’m not one to do/not do something just because of appearances sake. As tempting as a dragon across the cleavage or wild roses up my arm was, I always knew I wanted to get something that would mean something important to me. For the longest time I was juggling between whether I wanted this particular picture or a quote for my first ink job, but it wasn't until recently I had found my reason for getting one and the image I wanted, which in the end was something different from what I had initially narrowed it down to.

With the recent events that had happened in the world, and more especially the loss of someone important in my life, I chose something that would honor his memory and keep him with me forever: a rune. "What is a rune?" people ask.

Rune: a form of letters from an alphabet used by Germanic/Northern Europeans in olden days before Latin became the standard. They almost look like images - think of Egyptian hieroglyphs, but more letter-like.

And no, I did not get his initials tattooed into my skin with it. To shorten what always seems to be a long story, this is the story behind my choice:

The rune stands for heal/hurt not  comes from a book series (The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare, which if you haven’t read go pick it up and if you have read it, well you’ll know it’s awesome) that I had gotten him to read after a bit of nagging, a little reading aloud to him, and mostly him actually enjoying what he heard and then going out to buy the first book for himself. He liked the book so much he bought the second one. And then the third. He liked it so much he actually wanted to talk  about it with me afterwards. That alone felt like a huge feat since I never thought books would be a common interest we’d share, let alone be something we talked about together. This series is probably only one of sixty book suggestions that he ever followed through with.

So really when it came to deciding on my first tattoo, this rune just felt perfect: its meaning and the ties and memories it shared with this person and me. Even when I went in to make my appointment, the fact that the tattoo artist had the time on that exact date (the 7^th)… it sincerely felt meant to be.

With my image for my first tattoo chosen, I ran it by with the parental. Now there is something that you have to understand in Asian cultures. Regardless of your age, something like this you run it by your parents. It doesn’t mean you’re necessarily asking for their permission, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have the power to prevent you from doing it. I realize I am a special breed of Asian-offspring where despite any protests from parents, I’ll argue my way right out of the situation to more or less do what I want to do in the end. My telling my parents was mostly out of courtesy to let them know what I was planning on doing. After lengthy discussions with fellow Asian friends, I realize they’re not as fortunate as me to get away with what they want in the end or live to talk about it for very long afterwards. That is to say my dad was actually rather indifferent about my decision, whereas with my mom, had I not had the reason to get one as I do now, she probably would have dragged me out of the tattoo place by my hair ends. I’ll probably be keeping any future ink-jobs to myself now though.

Picking where to get my tattoo took a bit of research. And like the image that I settled on getting, the place that I actually went to wasn’t one of my initial two final choices. It wasn’t until I went on to yelp.ca that I read about Funhouse tattoo. It had some of the best reviews, and in particular a lot of previous clients were talking about Sasha and how great she was. That was pretty much the reason why I decided on her and that location. The place is great: hair-salon type furniture, clean, great interior feel and art with sweet pictures of past tattoo jobs done by the artists. Everyone there was really nice and Sasha definitely did not disappoint. She cracked some jokes, put on some sweet music in the store (which I regret not asking who the artist was, but do know it had a Mexican-feel to), and conversed while she was tattooing me. She and the store is definitely something I’ll be recommending to friends who are interested in getting some work done and will be returning myself for any future tattoos I’ll be getting.

The process of getting the actual tattoo was just as it was expected: nerve-racking at first but in the end, not as bad as what was expected. I chose my back, over the left shoulder. At first I wanted to get it as close to my heart as possible but didn’t like the idea of getting it done near/on my boob. I know in its location on my back, it is less likely to be seen but that’s what later tattoos are for. This one is really just for me and him.

What does getting a tattoo feel like? Well, my friend really said it best when she described it as getting “a freakin’ needle stabbing you over and over again really fast.” (In all fairness, she did warn me properly, so thanks Jess.) In some areas the skin was numb and didn’t really register any real sort of pain, but there were definitely areas where I was thinking HOLY FUCK I FEEL THAT! I FEEL IT! IT FUCKING HURTS! But that feeling was really fleeting and it mostly just required me to breathe through it. FYI: Holding your breath does not mean you won’t feel it. I just kept repeating to myself: Nothing can hurt as much as finding out that day. This will probably be my mantra for the rest of my days.

The entire thing took an hour, which went by quickly thanks to my sister who cancelled volunteer that day to be there with me for moral support. Before getting the tattoo, we went for a sushi lunch on Broadway. I was told by the guy who made my appointment and by several other people to make sure I eat something before getting the tattoo because it would keep me from fainting and focus my body on digesting the food rather than registering any pain. We walked to Funhouse rather than taking the bus just because the weather was gorgeous outside (I take as another sign that everything lined up perfectly). My sister was just as surprised as I was that I actually went through with it since we both know how I.Seriously.Fucking.Hate.Needles. For that reason and also because of my extremely low pain-tolerance, it’s no reason why she calls me the Cowardly Lion.

Sasha did a great job of prepping me beforehand, giving me time to ask questions and then going over aftercare instructions. It’s been a couple days and the skin over the tattoo is starting to peel, which I was told is normal. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but feels more like a sunburn just on that area of my body. My sister was there, not only to hold my hand, but take plenty of pictures. Unfortunately the blog won't let me upload any of my polaroid images but here's some she got on her phone.

      

  

Here are some pictures we took a couple days after. You can definitely tell the swelling has gone down quite a bit, yet the skin-peeling has yet to take place.

Overall, I definitely recommend Funhouse tattoo as the place to go. The price was incredibly reasonable and the staff are all really nice and professional. I know my sister and I plan on returning again when we finally decide to get ours done. It’s a modest first tattoo but I am extremely pleased with how it turned out. It’s something I'll wear fondly for however many years of my life to come to help remember the good times we had together.

Before signing off, another song:

Wake up

Look me in the eyes again

I need to feel your hands

Upon my face

Words can be like knives

They can cut you open

And the silence surrounds you

And holds you

I think I might’ve inhaled you

I can feel you behind my eyes

You’ve gotten into my bloodstream

I can feel you flowing in me

Words can be like knives

They can cut you open

And the silence surrounds you

And holds you

I think I might’ve inhaled you

I can feel you behind my eyes

You’ve gotten into my bloodstream

I can feel you flowing in me

The spaces in between

Two minds and all the places they have been

The spaces in between

I tried to put my finger on it

I tried to put my finger on it

I tried to put my finger on it

I think I might’ve inhaled you

I can feel you behind my eyes

You’ve gotten into my bloodstream

I can feel you flowing in me

I think I might’ve inhaled you

I can feel you behind my eyes

You’ve gotten into my bloodstream

I can feel you flowing in me

Sports Week

*cue in Hockey Night in Canada song* Da-da-da-da-da! DA-DA-DA-DA-DA!

This week is really about experiencing a lot of firsts for my world in sports: I got to go to my first hockey and soccer game.

On Thursday I watched the Canucks take on the L.A. Kings. These were tickets that I bought way back last fall when season tickets first went on sale. This was all planned to be part of my sister’s birthday present so the long wait was well worth it.

Our seats were awesome, second row in the lower plaza almost in the corner and in perfect view of the goalie and where they do the corner face-offs.

·         Canucks won the game (3-1) and the President’s Trophy!

·         Hearing Jenn cry out “Leave him alone!” when Daniel was getting rough-handled by the Kings.

·         Flinching whenever the players got slammed up against the glass right in front of us (seriously, it happened about six times and I’m pretty sure 4 out of the 6 was Lapierre).

·         Beer and churros although they no longer have sippy-cup lids which was kind of disappointing.

·         Watching the 2-man advantage power play during third period.
·         Seeing the Green Men do their thing.

If money weren’t an issue I would definitely see myself getting a season’s pass but it looks like I’ll be settling for a one-game-a-year instead which I’m still excited about. Here a couple pictures I took throughout the game:

 

Now I’ve been to plenty of concerts at various venues, but there is just this undeniable feeling while being at that game. It is entirely different from just watching it on TV, probably because it was 100 times better. 90% of us were decked out in a variety of Canucks fan gear (I, myself, was wearing a Henrik Sedin jersey and my sister wore a shirt that had the older yellow, red and black Canucks logo). The game was sold out which I found meant that there were over 18,000 spectators.

We actually had some Kings fans sitting right behind us but they left right after Kesler scored the third goal. Sore losers really, since considering ticket costs I would have stayed ‘til the end whether we won or lost... but we won (muhahaha)

At the time of deciding which game tickets to purchase it was a hard decision since I wanted to be sure that we would see a good game. Originally I wanted to buy tickets for when they played against Calgary Flames but tickets for those were insanely more expensive than the ones I settled with. L.A. Kings came as a recommendation from a beloved hockey buff. He’s really the one who got me even more into hockey and we even had bets during last year’s playoffs and the winter Olympics (which I happily won each time). I wish he was still here so that I could have talked about my first experience at a game; so that we could have gone to a game together. He was so excited for me – I still miss you.

On Saturday my friend took me to the Vancouver Whitecaps vs. Sporting Kansas City game. It was a chance for us to hang out together even in the midst of end-of-term-craze and get me out of the house (Thank you Jess).

                                   This is us soaking in some sun.

Despite that we were sitting in an undercover area and would have been semi-protected by the supposed scheduled rain, the day turned out to be gorgeously sunny.

I had a great time at the game and seriously did not realize how many Whitecaps fans there were in the city. Though it didn’t look like it was a sold out game, there was definitely a sizeable crowd. We had a couple real “enthusiasts” several rows behind us.

The second half of the game was where everything really picked up. Despite the 3-0 lead Kansas city had entering into it, the Whitecaps were able to tie the game within like the last two minutes of the game. Oh, and we also had an attempted streaker. He didn't get very far but I did manage to catch the part where he was being dragged away by security in briefs (or maybe it was shorts... the point in he was still covered).

This guy actually scored the first goal for us. Yay Harris!

Watching the soccer game definitely had its tense, nerve-racking moments. I had a great time overall and definitely want to be back for more games. So again my thanks go out to my friend for inviting me.

Until next time!

Eulogy: Mourning a Life Lost

There’s a lesson in the rain that change will always come

Let us ride this wave and then greet the sun

And though the ground may shake and we’ll think

We’ve had enough

We must raise our flags for the ones we love.

I received some tragic news that someone very important to me – who shall remain unnamed in respect to the family’s wishes for privacy to mourn – had passed away due to a congenital heart condition. I can’t express the devastation and continuous heartache I feel over this loss. Even now I still cannot believe that what happened has truly come to pass. I continue to feel at a loss for words, unable to provide comfort for others that share this loss with me. In the most horrible ways, the past days have felt surreal and despite my wish each morning that none of this ever happened, it is a reality that I have grave difficulty accepting and coping with. Unable to bring myself to fully get back into my regular routine, I felt that it was important for me to help come to terms with the tragedy that has happened in a way that I have always took comfort in.

I am neither a religious/spiritual person nor a scientific one, yet I am given explanations from both ends of the spectrum. God decided/It was his time. His heart just gave out; the structure was simply too weak. And yet none of these explanations seem fair. We still react irrationally to these answers. We mourn. We regret the things that happened and the things we failed to take opportunity to do. We question authorities and demand for answers that could put us at ease. And despite that I never had a firm belief in higher powers or in an afterlife, I trust that he is in a place of rest with no worries of a heart condition, medication, and all the other despair that he suffered in his last months.

For the rest of us, yes, I am fully aware that life goes on; things will eventually get better; time heals all wounds, etc. etc. But until that time comes I know the best way for us to cope is to fill our thoughts with only the good memories.

I got the chance to really get to know him in a group project for a class. It was one of those “turn to the person next to you” set-ups and I had my skepticism and concerns at first. My skepticism was really premature, based on trivial things like the topics of conversation he started with me before lectures; the fact that he always sat at the end of the row – making me scoot across him to get to the seat on his other side – even though he knew that was where I wanted to sit so that I could leave right at the end of class to rush across campus for my next location; and also that on certain days it appeared as though he hadn’t had a shower in days. In truth I had some of the best times working on that project with him. It took us nearly two weeks to realize that his name wasn’t Gabriel and mine wasn’t Carmen. Despite that we met up frequently with the intention of getting our research going, most of our time was spent hanging in and around downtown, with none of the work being completed until the last few hours before the due date. From then on it was only one great memory after another.

There are a lot of things that I’ll miss about him; things that I’m grateful to him for; things he did simply so that I’d smile:

·         Communication wasn’t our forte and a lot of misunderstanding could have been avoided if he only understood sarcasm but it did let me get away with making him believe some ridiculous stories and explanations. A simpleton at heart with no room for anything unless it involved direct speech.

·         He didn’t think reading was the best hobby and most of the time he thought male characters from stories were real people that I were infatuated with, especially when he came in halfway through conversations. Made him a little paranoid thinking I was into so many guys at once but it was just too funny to ever correct him right away.

·         It didn’t take a lot to put him in a good mood: skipping class to go surfing instead; $5 haircuts; messing with the playlists on my Ipod; dissing rap music and particularly hating on Kanye West; hockey game nights (spending all that effort to explain the rules to me again and again and never getting upset when I forget them all before the next game); introducing me to all those emotional, mellow, cheesy indie musicians; thinking it manly to like said-musicians; being able to make all the calls on how to spend the day; impromptu Taylor Swift singing; pointing out to me for two weeks how my new haircut looked like his; cheap wing nights; going out dancing and for me realizing you were actually good at it;

·         Cooking abilities that were beyond questionable but he never was scared to experiment. Salsa and peanut butter sandwiches. Burrito mix pancakes. BBQs in the winter where he grilled meat seasoned with unconventional toppings. He’d tell me a full man was a happy man but that a college student budget couldn’t afford him to be a picky eater. Even though he just wanted to make me home cooked meals, most of the time I thought he was trying to give me food poisoning but watching him in the kitchen was always a laugh. He still let me drag him to eat out 95% of the time. He had an appetite and I’ll never forget when he asked if the 8oz steak could be substituted as a side dish with his order of ribs.

·         There were a lot of things I got him to do even though he resisted in the beginning: reading a lot of my book recommendations, throwing away his beanie that looked like road kill, wearing scarves as a trendy male accessory, window shopping, letting me drive, getting a Facebook account even though you failed to use it because you constantly forgot your password, following my time zone for when we called each other, and taking that taxi at nearly 4am out of downtown that time we were in the States or else who knows what would have happened that night. For that and so much more, I’m thankful.

·         He was so supportive of my writing and always encouraged me to pursue it. I don’t know what he ever saw in it, but he was relentless in his encouragement. We had plans for me to be a penniless writer while he made money for the both of us as a pigeon-feed seller down on beach boardwalks in southern California – well at least until I became a NY Times Bestseller he’d say. We spent a lot of rainy days with him forcing me to sit in front of my laptop while he made me hot beverages and played Adele to help get my creativity going. He never failed to remind me to at least keep trying and that if all else failed, we could at least act it all out in a 2-person, 8-part YouTube videos. He’ll never realize how much his support alone meant to me. Even in his absence he managed to give me back my writing as a gift.

He was a traditionalist and a sappy romantic. He was pig-headed and hard to convince otherwise when he was wrong, He was a son, a brother, and a great friend to those who knew him. He’ll always be remembered for his kindness, his selflessness, his charisma that attracted everyone to just want to be around him and have a good time. He had a lot of plans for his future: get his medical license, take over his father's clinic, get married, have children and see to it they all became professional hockey players. We’ll never understand why someone so beautiful couldn’t stay with us a little longer but I know I count myself as blessed to have spent time with you at all.

He was someone very special to me.

I love you so much and I’ll miss you more than I could ever say.

R.I.P.

Homeward the new road meanders

Washed out the old road as to what did I bring

Flowers, a verse about springtime

Perchance in the treeline she’s waiting for me.

Homeward these shoes worn to paper

Thin as the reason I left here so young

Homeward and what if I see her

There in the doorway I walked away from

White house asleep on the hillside

Firm as a habit I struggled to shed

Homeward with heaven above me

Old road behind me, a door up ahead.

The Charlie Sheen Soundboard

If anybody knows me, then they know that I have been keeping a special interest in all the great things of Charlie Sheen these days. It’s not that I was a fan of his before a couple weeks ago it’s just that the things he is saying is just too sensational to ignore. (TIGER BLOOD!) I was never a Two and a Half Men fan or anything, and really the only memorable thing I have of him is his small role as the bad boy in Ferris Bueller. I mean you have to give the man some props, he has tested clean for numerous drugs test over the course of the past couple days but he is STILL going on strong with some of the most bat-shit crazy, but also “inspiring” rants ever! For example, who can deny “CAN'T is the cancer of HAPPEN” is not motivating? I haven’t blogged in a while so I thought what better way to get back to it than by sharing this awesome soundboard some genius put together. Seriously, take a listen; be moved; become motivated and start WINNING!