I'm banned from work today because my co-workers are now avoiding me like plague after hearing my little dry coughs and stuffed nose yesterday. My boss even tried to talk me into *not* going to work tomorrow, which I (staunchly) refused.

So I woke up this morning at 8 (as oppose to the regular 6), went to the cafe by the movie theatre to have coffee and to read. I'm now overwhelmed with this desire to play the piano. I almost wish I had my own house so that I can haul in a piano and play it whenever I want.

That's what I really want.

So I spent my first "Canada Day in Ottawa" seeing the GG (too pale and too thin) closed-up twice, doing my first journalistic interview shivering in the freezing wind on the lawn of Rideau Hall with my guest sniffing her nose due to the cold, hanging out with new OMG-Where-Have-You-Been-All-My-Life friend Rachel (who sadly has relocated to the capital) all afternoon and trudging around town trying to find a decent place to eat with an exhausted boyfriend who just performed the change of guard ceremony on TV earlier in the day.

I barely left the house today, and it was great. Now tomorrow I actually need to put my first "real" radio report/story together. Bah.

So, I went to see this Danish movie, "after the wedding," by myself and cried in the theatre like a retard*. It also reminded me how much I used to love Scandinavian movies (highly recommending; 'Festen'(cCelebration), "rekjavik 101', and "together") and used to see them again and again on sunday afternoons in my room in Seattle. It was also a period of time when I took solitary walks by the pier a lot. and then i would go to Pike Place market to watch well-muscled young men throwing big fish around. it was fun.

the shift key on the right side of my keyboard isn't really working and it's irritating the fuck out of me. i miss christopher.

*ok it's a bit of an over-statement. i just sniffed a few times.

I met a Quebecois girl called Swan last night. Like, her real name. It's probably to her advantage that she also happened to be really pretty, with her hair dyed jet black and bangs cropped fashionably short. Otherwise, I guess it would be quite an ironic name.

I'm watching Radio Canada's weekend flagship program, Toute le monde en parle, cos people at work just talk about it all the time on Monday and out of curiosity I've been watching it bit by bit on and off. Today they have Mario Dumont and this French actress I once read about in the New Yorker's Talk of the Town section, Arielle Dombasle. Her claim to fame, besides the botoxed face and artificially injected lips, is that she's married to French writer Bernard-Henri Levy. He's the guy who wrote one of the most misguided books ever, American Virtigo. Seeing this woman just makes my estimation of him and all these faux French "philosophers" these days goes down one more notch.

I never realized that Mario Dumont is such a hottie though. Seriously. Is it because of the light? He really looks cute.

AAARRGGHH I just logged on the website of Citizenship and Immigration Canada to change my address, only to realize that my application for my permanent resident card was rejected!! I won't even know why until I receive the letter. They apparently rejected it on the same day as they started processing it, so I'm hoping that it's because of those sketchily-sized photos. Photos that I took in chinatown for cheap but did not seem to 100% fit the required size. I sent them out anyway but god damnit I should've trusted my feeling. Now it's $50 wasted and I must do it again if I want to get out of the country at all this summer.

Now, let me take a step back and explain to all you lucky CAnadian/American-passport holders re: what I'm talking about here. So once you became a legal Canadian immigrant, i.e. a permanent resident, which I am one, you're required to present this so-called "Permanent REsident Card" when you travel. To be more specific, you show it at the customs when you want to come back Canada.

I, of course, was once a proud owner of such a card. However my extremely ill-fated ownership of said card has ceased because I managed to lose my PR card not once, but twice. The first time it was in my wallet when my whole wallet was stolen; I re-applied and got a second one, which 3 months later was promptly left behind by yours truly on the Amtrak train coming back to Montreal from New York.

Don't even get me start on my citizenship application that's been dragging on for a year now because supposedly some "criminal or parolee of another country" has the same name as me. And the humiliation of doing finger prints to clear my name!! AARGGGHH.

Anyway, it's supposed to be two seperate affairs, I'm just applying for my Canadian citizenship after having being in the country for more than 3 years, and in the meantime trying to re-own a PR card so that I can travel abroad. But maybe Chris is right, maybe my sloppy PR card history made the Immigration Canada officers deem that I'm unfit to be a Canadian.

and to think that all those Lebanese immigrants who haven't been living in Canada for 10 years and have no ties with the country anymore have Canadian passports... not fair.

Tina Fey in 30 Rock is just so unbelievably hot. I love her combination of low-cut blouse, nerdy glasses (which is not the same as the thicker kind of pseudo hipster glasses), offbeat eccentricities, intelligence, and the effortless hotness. The show is funny, alternatively witty and acerbic. Awesomeness all-around is Ms Fey.

I played this song called "If I call you by some name" by The Paupers in my show today and have been having that song stuck in my head all day. And I have only listened to it 1.5 times!

Annoying things are coming up at work, all of which pretty much stemmed from management making decisions that simply don't make any sense. How the public sector in Quebec operates is really quite exasperating at times. And the warped perception of the rest of Canada (and the world!) on the part of the Quebecois! Argh. Their understanding of technology seems to be perpetually 5 years behind the rest of the world. I'm sure it's a French thing.

I'm moving bit and bit, literally. Like, I just moved 3 forks and all my chopsticks into my new apartment two floors up from this one. And I made another trip to move 8 books. It's kinda fun, this moving without your shoes on thing. Let's see how long I can drag this out.

1) Went to this conference on topics that really only politics and law geeks would be interested in by getting a media badge even though I have no intention to 'cover' it. Even managed to get Chris a "Invité/Guest" badge all on my own (i.e. without my boss vouching for us like last time at this other conference. Discovered that the key is confidence and persistence. Some lowly monkeys would always tell you that you can't get a guest badge for someone else because you're not important enough. Some other middle-level monkey would then mistaken you as a student journalist from McGill. Just pull off the slightly annoyed face and look at them in the eyes and be demanding. The end result was immensely rewarding. The two of us listened to an engaging (although all too short) panel discussion between Rockstar US Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia and some Canadian SC Justice, moderated by the silver-haired Bob Rae whose current job is probably just travel around CAnada moderating sort-of important conferences like this. In the cocktail reception afterwards, had three glasses of red wine and various types of cheese, and stood inches away from Justice Scalia listening to him patiently answer the endless and evidently un/mis-informed questions from a group of first-year McGill law students. Was surprised by how down-to-earth he was. He spent the whole 30 minutes he was at the cocktail reception talking to a small group of students, instead of hanging out with Bob Rae, the Canadian SC judge, or other "more important people" (of which there was quite an abundance) there.

And when time's up for him to leave, he raised his wine glass and said, 'Gotta go. bye!' And promptly jetted off back to Washington.

2) For the first time in the five shifts I've done so far, I was annoyed while volunteering at the Santropol kitchen making meals that are to be sent on wheels. We were already short of people yesterday afternoon, but two people promptly bid goodbye when the clean-up of the kitchen was about to begin. So I washed and washed and washed a mountain of pots and pans and baking pans and tongs and spetulas and knifes and other cooking things. One American ballet dancer girl who was trained at Julliard and was frankly really pretty helped me, but she kept telling me that the pots I just washed were still dirty. Which they probably were, but they were so big (note: these aren't your househohld pots and pans; these are sizes that you find in a professional kitchen, made to cook for 50 people) and I couldn't scrub them thoroughly enough if I want to leave by dinner time. I got visibly upset and thought about how I hate washing dishes at my own house and I probably should wash the dishes that are currently sitting in my own sink first. There was a girl who was gonna be the new kitchen coordinator, and it was her first day. I turned around from the dish-washing corner of dread, and saw her standing around chatting with other staff who was passing by. She was getting paid to be there and apparently thought chores like washing dishes is only to be assigned to lowly volunteers.

The American girl quietly retreated after awhile, and sort of walked around the kitchen wiping the table, picking up scraps etc.

Finally other people dispersed and there was no one else she could talk to. So she came over by the sink and asked me if I want some coffee. It was 4:30pm, and I had been doing the dishes for at least 30 minutes. I told her I've had tons of coffee in the morning. She feigned surprise and asked me if I were there in the morning. I said no, in my house. chez moi.

Afterwards I felt like a really bad person, but I just really dislike having my hands smell of grease all day. Especially people who were getting paid to be there could have helped.

3) It's Chinese New Year today. But should I brave the snow storm and go to my co-worker's house in Hochelega? Hmm, I dunno. Hanging out at home with the cat is very comfortable.

I'm running out of songs to play on our show. Suggestions??? I need song titles! Albums! Canadian artists/groups strongly preferred. It's actually kind of limited to its availability in the CD library in Radio-Canada, but if I can have a longer list I can check if they're in the discotheque. Preferrably not the current batch of sort-of known Canadian indie bands, cos it's very likely I've already played them or checked their availability. It's OK if it's more obscure but good though, as my knowledge is pretty much limited to those covered by Pitchfork and company. Other genres outside of indie rock are strongly welcomed too, as my knowledge is even more meager there.

This is what I'm watching on IFC right now. This guy who creepily resembles the title character in My Name Is Earl is living on the minimum wage with his girlfriend/wife for a month in Ohio.

I think it won't take much elaboration on my part for you to see the intrinsinct (?) flaw in the premise. First of all, being educated enough to be able to make a documentary for a major cable network, you simply can't hide the fact that you're educated. It's in your manners, in the way you talk, the way you interact with people. Which leads us to the obvious conclusion that it's also more likely for you to find people to hire you, and on a more subtle level being treated better by other people. Like, duh? You won't get the cold shoulders and prejudices that people who have always earned minimum wages get, because it's all a trap, a vicious cicle that these people are stuck with. The inability to get good dental care and hence having bad teeth, the permanent smell of grease on you, the slumping shoulders, the look of defeat: anyone who's read Barbara Heinrich's Nickels and Dimes and were haunted by it can recount these details. How can you even claim these 30 days is any reflection at all of how it's like living in the bottom of the society?

I avoid talking about "serious issues" and writing more like a blog because I always feel what I want to say can't be more obvious and I just don't want to write cliche. But apparently these aren't still cliche enough if people are still making shows like this and thinking that they're original and ground-breaking.

On the first note, after having moved in for seven months, I finally managed to put up curtains yesterday for my 9-feet-something-wide window in the living room (it's ridiculous that it took me so long, I know). It's a strange size and it took me a while to gather the curtain and rod with the correct size. Not having a ladder also means I'm pretty much too short to put up the rod properly, i.e. on top of the window instead of an inch or so below the top. My arms and shoulders are still hurting from stretching my body to the maximum for an hourr in order to be able to reach the required height and drill the goddamn holes. But still, looking at my newly-covoered window, I went to bed last night all satisfied.

This morning I got up, made coffee and nutella sandwich, feeling all merry and winter-y because of the curtain. And then I watched in horror as Enoki the cat gave it a tug, the metal rod snapped, bent, and then collapsed.



However, looking at this site just makes me happy. It leads you towards all these wonderful places on the internet that sell the cutest thing. Evil, no?

Fashion is spinach indeed.

Today is the second all-French party (as in, everyone else was francophone and there was no English spoken except the occasional sentences for my sake - as in, "are you ok?") I've attended. The first one was last February/March-ish, sometime during the rigid winter before I started working. I don't know was it because we just ended up smoking pot and watching C.R.A.Z.Y. sans-sous-titre anyway, the memory I have of that party was positive. It was fun. We had cheese fondue at this Swiss guy's house, and the two Quebecois guys there told me that my French was good. I went because they were friends with my French language-exchange partner, this exchange student at McGill from France. She made an impromptu bong out of a water bottle and a pen, and there is pictures of me all bleary eyed and happy-looking somewhere on the internet (or, more precisely, facebook). (Good that it was un-tagged, I believe.) Later on we went to some ultra-lame chav club in the gay village, the sort that is populated by guys who wear baggy jeans hanging down their ass and skinny, tanned Asian girls wearing pretty much nothing. The club was lame and I left after 15 minutes, but it was still a fondly-remembered experience.

This time, everyone was nice and there were actually only two people who I've never seen. But jesus christ, Quebecois women are so much harder to understand than the men. [Note: all the guys in the previous party were 19-year-old McGill freshmen, so it's not like I'm biased here.] Is it because of the higher pitch of the voice? The more rapid speed at which one talks? Quebecois accent on women is also the most unsexy thing; it's like the English women on Coronation Street, all coarse and nasal (and your first reaction is you want to reach for the remote and turn the volume down). I understood maybe thirty percent. It's the most demoralizing thing; it just painfully demonstrates to me that no amount of expensive French courses would ever teach me how to understand party conversations. It'll only happen through speaking French all the time, at homee, at work, before I go to bed, in bed, in my dreams. And I'll have to immerse myself in reading material in French exclusively, because the daily reading of the hockey coverage on La Presse is just not gonna do it. I need a French version of the New York Times that I read back-to-back every day. At work, I thought I can usually understand at least 85-90% of what's going on, but that's because I have the context. It's the same when I'm having a one-on-one conversation with someone. I have control over the context, so I can have at least over 70% of comprehension. But when people start talking about what happened to their friend last week and it was hahaha so funny and oh do you remember that TV show this episode because it was the same thing hahaha, I got completely lost.

Basically, there's just so much joy in my life that I must give up so that my French would ever progress to the level that my English is at right now. That was how I improved my English; I forced myself to read exclusively in English, made only none-Chinese speaking friends and I was going to an English university. But I don't want to make all these sacrifices this time around. So far every Anglo I know who's almost-native-speaker-perfect in French either grew up in Montreal and went to French school, or has a French -speaking spouse. I just couldn't help thinking tonight, what would I have to do to understand all things Quebecois? The bizarre accent, the uber-earnest entertainment culture, the way people clap excitedly to folk songs about birds (which is what they did at this Quebecois concert that we later went and where I was definitely the only one in the room who didn't know the words of every song)?

It's daunting.

At least the Canadiens won tonight. Go Habs Go .

1. What did you do in 2006 that you've never done before?
Havint a real, full-time, salaried job that resembles a 'career'.
Mastering something that I knew nothing about and was hired to do (studio production) from scratch and becoming good at it.
Seeing a live hockey game.
Not seeing my parents for almost a year (it was about 11.5 months).

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for this year?
No. new year resolutions are lame. funnily enough though, I always secretly have some resolutions whenever I come back from going away temporarily.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
no

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No

5. What countries did you visit?
France and hated it. One can be hard pressed to find a more self-delusioning people than the French. They like to point the finger at the US while they truly have one fucked-up country themselves.

6. What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?
More friends to hang out with. seeing your friends move away, not making new ones, and not seeing good chance to make new ones suck.
More savings.
More time with the family.

7. What dates from 2006 will remain etched in your memory, and why?
the day i was offered my current job. it was right after the day when i was desolate and sent out various desperate e-mails to old professors (and even meeting one in person) begging for work. strangely i never gathered the courage to tell them that actually I found a job right afterwards though.


8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
god knows, not being fired from my job? heh.

9. What was your biggest failure?
not being very smart money-wise. not being proactive enough in creating chances to make friends.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
yeah, a surgery.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
haha i don't know if i strictly "bought" my cat, but i did pay for around $120 to take her home from the SPCA.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Christopher for his infinite patience

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
at this very moment i would like to name the crazy woman living next door.

14. Where did most of your money go?
clothes, chinese and korean food, alcohol (it's so sad, i mostly just drink at home and force my cat to smell it), furniture

15. What did you get really, really excited about?
probably not super super stoked, but going to Vancouver for the production trip was pretty exciting.


17. Compared to last year, are you happier or sadder?
It's difficult to generalize this way. I guess I'm more content material-wise and not having to feel guilty about not holding gainful employment anymore, but damn it I miss having a social life and not having to get up at 6am and going to bed at 10pm every day.


18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
seeing more bands, doing more volunteer, taking more classes, in general doing more than just going to work and coming home.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
purchasing alcohol and drinking at home. it's pointless, really.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
I spent it alone. Christmas eve with the boy having horrible, Montreal-quality hot pot in chinatown.

23. What was your favorite TV Program?
several spring to mind: the Office (US and UK), 30 Rock, the west wing, and dorkily, CBC News at Six


25. What was the best book you read?
several and they're all superb. "Heat" by Bill Buford, and the two 'comedy of manners': "emporor's children" by clair mossaud and "the line of beauty" by Allan H-something something

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?
hmm, several: jill barber, many great soul songs from the 60's, malajube, islands

27. What did you want and get?
an espresso machine!! yay.

28. What was your favorite film this year?
Sophie Scholl: the last days
little miss sunshine
science of sleep
are among the most memorable

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I ate at sala rossa with some friends. i was 25.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
same answer as last year: people whose company i enjoy?
also, being more challenged at work, being more socially apt/deft

31. What political issue stirred you the most?
I'm politically apathetic. ;)

32. Who did you miss?
my parents

33. Who was the best new person you met?
ginette, some people at work although not that many of them

Since a month ago, I have a deranged neighbour who yells and shrieks on top of her lung in the hallway whenever she's drunk and feels like to yell at her boyfriends. She likes to play the victim, and thinks everyone is against her because she's a woman and an "immigrant" (she seems to be from the Carribeans somewhere). Being right next door, I've never heard any man's raised voice, not even once. It's always her yelling and smashing things. I made a mistake of being nice to her once, and she knocked on my door at 6am this morning (NEW YEARS DAY!! MY FIRST DAY OF 2007!) demanding me to lend her tools to break into her own apartment for some incoherent reason. She never once said anything to the effect of "Sorry to bother you at this hour, but...". I told her I have to get up at 6 every morning for work and today is the only day I can sleep in, and she has officially ruined my morning. She immediately got billigerant and aggressive, and told me how she has to get up and "go to work" too. Christopher and I are convinced that she's a prostitute, judging by the type of loser men who go in and out of her place. I told her she's a very selfish person and has no consideration for other people. It's virtually impossible to talk to her, as she immediately gets belligerent as soon as any issue with her is raised. The landlord yells at her virtually every day, but it takes at least six months to evict a tennant in Quebec. I asked the landlord how someeone like this would pass the credit check, she told me the lease was in fact under someone else's name, someone with a good credit history, and now she's stuck with this woman who we know nothing about.

I slept for 4 hours last night and I'm exhausted. I really hate to start the year with such hostility and irritation.

... thus spoke Nigella Lawson just right this minute, on CBC Newsworld.

I'm spending my first Christmas in Montreal, which disappointingly is also the first green-and-above-freezing Christmas here in ages. It's been quite uneventful, although I wish Christ didn't have to work all night tonight and tomorrow night. It also meant that we can't make it to the Christmas dinner at his house tonight, although after dropping by his house briefly this morning I became convinced that this may be a blessing in disguise. When there's a one-year-old child, everyone's attention is on the one-year-old child, and I never knew how to act around one-year-old's, not when they're the boyfriend's sister. Her repeated attempts at giving me her newly-received Tickle Me Elmo for no apparent reason only magnified my awkwardness and stiff smiles. It's becoming a cliche, this " most girls I know who are my age don't seem to have strong maternal instincts" thing. I blame Sex and the City and Carrie Bradshaw in particular. It made not knowing how to interact with children cool or something, cos it suggests women who don't have more pressing concerns, even though, frankly, interacting with children should be 100 times more fun and relaxing than with the adults you see at work and in life every day.

There's still a nagging voice in my head that maybe I should have gone home after all, despite being a heaththen and all. I don't usually do well with a break in routines. I'm used to being home in BC and having rainy Christmas, going to one specific hot pot restaurant (operated by HK people) on Christmas Eve, and going to a movie on Christmas Day with my family. And, of course, complaining about Richmond and how much I hate living there in general and how bored I always am when I'm there. On the other hand, this holiday hasn't turned out so bad given the potential hurdles (Chris being at work a lot, friend who decided to go home at the last minute). I'm resolved to put my negative tendencies behind me and be grateful that I have such an awesome boy (who gave me the best present ever - that little machine that chunks out home-made espresso on command?) (also, I only gloat like once a year so bear with me). I mean, said friend even called me this afternoon from Manitoba to wish me well.

For dinner today I made something that involves several pieces of sliced ginger, four chicken drumsticks, half a bottle of rice wine/sake, and at least 3 teaspoons of seasame oil. This "soup" involves precisely only these materials (ok and some water, but not too much). It was greasy, winter-y (almost like it had vodka in it), and delicious.


Oh and the reason why I'm not in BC this week is because I was just there 10 days ago. And it was for this ill-fated production trip that was going to happen back in August, but kept getting postponed until early December. I was stressed out, overwhelmed and filled with hatred towards work before I went West-ward, but it turned out to be one of the most rewarding experiences I've had, and the whole six days was immensely enjoyable. I met and shaked hands with tons of interesting people, and the car-ride with the colleagues was always filled with laughters. The comfort of the hotel didn't hurt too. Every night I went to sleep in the king-sized bed and put my head on the four feather-light pillows, I thought to myself, God it would be nice to be rich. ;)

I`m totally enjoying my time staying at the castle-like Hotel Vanccuver downtown with a king-sized bed, using the highspeed internet that costs $15 per night, and taking cabs or being chauffered around all on someone else`s money.

This life of luxury is ending in less than two days when I`ll be returning to my banal suburban home and hanging out with the Parents, but really, it`s been a good week.

Despite the stress I`ve been under for this trip, before and during it, still, it`s been a good week.

Life has been good.

Saw my beloved Habs in action (despite the crappiness of the match). Will post my own pictures soon! Not very impressed by the hyper-commercialization of hockey though. Why do I have to put up with commercials on the big screen in the arena during TV commercial breaks, when I already spent close to $100 on the ticket? And the incessant songs from the local gym chain whenever there's a small break in the game?

On the other hand, also saw the Decemberists for the fourth time, who were still miles better than their contemporaries even when they weren't at their very best (a la the show at Webster Hall NY last October). Other bands come and go, and my interest on them fluctuate. But the Decemberists never fail to put a big grin on my face days after witnessing their complete awesome-ness in person.

It was also during this show that I realize I should start learning how to play guitar. I still have Alex's guitar that he gave to me when he left Montreal!

Saw another band which I've been taking a great interest in lately, Montreal's own Malajube. The show was loud, heavy, pop-y, and punk-y all at once; it was sweaty and exhilarating. Everyone was really, really into it, and I started thinking if I were a francophone indie-rock fan, it must feel particularly intimate and personal seeing bands like Malajube, who sings completely in French. I wouldn't even be able to imagine seeing a Chinese band playing in exactly the type of music style that I love, singing completely in Chinese and having the same upbringing as I do.

Went to one of those "loft party" things that were quite popular in New York a while ago, i.e. people hosting shows in their own house, serving beer that they bought from the depanneur etc. It was to see the new girl at work (who I talked about before) and her Rock Star Boyfriend playing together. The loft was a cool place adored with obligatory art works and eccentric objects, although I can never in a million years live in a place with exposed pipes and unpainted walls.
Their music, unfortunately, completely sucked. It was amateurish, out-of-sync and has nothing in it whatsoever. It was basically like they only started learning their instruments and playing together last week.

At one point I felt a bit of pity for the RSB, who surely had played for way bigger crowd when he was one of the first Montreal band to break into the major "pitchfork" scene. And it was only two years ago! now he's toiling away in obscurity, having no other viable skills, and playing to 50 people while pathetically attempting stage antics meant for a crowd 10 times that size.

Also, the previous band was also a "Asian Girlfriend White Boyfriend" duo. It really made me realize how lame it is for the girl if you don't actually play a real instrument. Standing there looking pretty, sometimes dabbling in percussion, xylophone, accordian or other similar pseudo-instruments, isn't really the best way to earn you respect and credibility, no? I'm against forming a so-called "band" with your boyfriend and going around performing your six-song repertoire in those band nights that feature five acts if you have nothing original to contribute to.

If I'm ever in a band, I'll work very hard on mastering guitar.

so here it is, picture of Enoki "the E".

ok so my last entry was totally a lie. it totally sucks when it's a miserable day and i don't have chris at home with me. it's like i almost just want the day to be over, fast. when it's sunny and warm i could stay out and read and have coffee and take a solitary walk or something, but when it's cold and miserable i just want homey conversations and family wrestles with Enoki. I can't wrestle with her when it's just the two of us! It's just not the same. :(

On the up side, I bought a bottle of Californian red wine at the SAQ, and it's surprisingly good given its modest price. I'm really no expert on alchools, but it feels like I can almost taste the grapes. Did you know that American wine has been beating French wine in the Paris Wine Tasting of 1976, French Culinary Institute Wine Tasting of 1986, and the Wine Rematch of the Century in 2006, with the judges being pretty much all French in all the competitions? Amazing, no? French people really need to get over themselves, heh.

I'm sitting at my desk listening to a recording of Belle and Sebastian's 2001 show in Vancouver from the awesome, awesome website of CBC Radio 3 (radio3.cbc.ca and then go to "Concerts and Sessions"). I am smiling to myself like an idiot, trying to refrain from big dancing movements and thinking about the Belle and Sebastian in Coney Island and my exchange with Ms. Cam ("follow the hipster!", "awwwwww cute.", "all the cute shirts are gone and I only got this one.", "it's ice cream coloured.").

It's a really, really slow day. it's barely noon and I've already finished lunch and am running out of things to do. People, e-mail me at chenp (at) radio-canada dot ca to entertain me please.

I miss home. I miss Enoki, I miss feeling at ease. I'm sick of lugging my luggage around because I can't settled down somewhere, I'm sick of feeling bad about my 'eccentricities' (which apparently include that i get up and go to the bathroom early in the morning, i'm not proper and i talk loud and fast), i'm sick of proper european girls that i never understand. so i just had a 'talk' with alex about the living situation. basically i pissed off his girlfriend majorly during the first night i was here because i didn't know that even walking around one step in the next room would wake her up and fuck up all her day. i spent the second day in paris calling around for hostels, and ended up taking a private room in the hostel i'm staying right now in order to switch to dorm rooms in the next nights, w hich i did. i thought i would run out of funds during my last two nights here since i DID pay for a private room and i didn't even budget in hostel costs when i planned for this trip, so i told alex that i'll go back to his house for my last two nights here, thinking that if it's just two nights she probably wouldn't think it was such a big deal. The two nights soon became one night (tomorrow night), cos i realized i have more money than i thought and i should stay in the hostel as long as i could. Well, nope, apparently miss claire has been stressed out ALL THIS WEEK because i was going to go back her apartment and she thought she's gonna be kept up for two nights again. Serious, after the cold look she gave me on weds morning and the cold shoulders this whole time (exhibited by her refusal to speak english in front of me), did she really think that i'm gonna try to move at all while staying there except lying in my bed? my cough got worse after arriving paris, all i did was i put a glass of water on the table, got off my bed, took two steps to the table to drink water when i cough. all this time while switching on the bedside table. apparently THAT woke her up too, desipte there's a wall and a door between us. i moved out right away and that wasn't enough, she's STILL remembering it. fuck i thought *I* am a light sleeper, but i've been sleeping like a baby (10 hours at one point) every night at the hostel. probably cos i was imagining i would be doing all these fun things with them while i'm here, none of those happened and it took me awhile to adjust my expectations. since we got off the wrong foot, apparently all these little things i did became a sign of 'i'm not normal,' and i couldn't believe it when alex recounted it to me. i was trying to stay out of her way and she thinks of it as rudeness. fuck, now at least i'm not seeing her again when i'm here, but it's been become hard for me to be friends with alex anymore because i can't believe he too takes her side and the view that I AM NOT NORMAL. it's ironic how we even had a good discussion about why i find north america much more tolerant and i would never want to live in europe. all my friends know what kind of person i am, normal or not, but no one would point out in a way that makes it seem like it's wrong. fuck now i wish i hadn't talked about this with him at all, cos i was finally feeling much better today after the low point of feeling utterly alone yesterday afternoon. paris was so much mroe fun when enjoyed with another person, and friday with sofi and arnaud/wife demonstrated that. it was hard going back to travelling alone and realizing actually your friend won't be able to spend that much time with you because his girlfriend officially hates you. i noticed that apparently not many people come to paris alone, even in the hostel, everyone was in groups, because how are you going to all these cool/chic restaurants/cafes on your own, what you end up is getting creepy old men following you into the metro.