Archive for 2012

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The Real Stuff #13: Glam Bag

This doesn't have anything to do with my Real Stuff series, but I'm excited to blog about this! 

Last week, I subscribed to ipsy, this company started by a bunch of youtube makeup guru's who sends  you a different 'Glam Bag' every month. Each bag has 4-6 different makeup samples/full size products for $10. 

The way I see it, makeup is the equivalent of protein shakes for guys. While every month my brother waits for his protein shake to arrive, I will wait for my Glam Bag. 

The packaging:
Bright pink and totally what you would expect for something called Glam Bag. I'm keeping this bag for future uses. 



It came with cards that explained the products and coupons. The front page of the little booklet is a picture of the youtube guru's.

Confession: I'm a big fan of makeup videos for no decent reason. I watch them when I eat, when I'm bored, when I need entertainment ... Half my subscriptions on youtube are makeup guru's. Anyway, maybe I'll delve into the story of how much of a fan of Michelle Phan I am later.


First thing in the bag is the Mai Coutour booklet. No this is not a book. It's something my grandma is a big fan of because I have very early memories of her using this product.


 This is an illuminator paper. You rip off a page and dab it on your cheeks, forehead, chin, arms ... basically anywhere you want to shine. (Insert lame twilight joke here.)

(Retails for $13)


NYX eyeshadow in Ultra Pearl Mania. Truthfully, I'm not sure how to use this, but my sister is in love with this so I might just pass it on to her. 


The packaging can get messy, and I'm guessing the best way to put this on is with your fingers. It's a really sheer light pink colour that is suppose to match with my skin tone (when I subscribed I did a quick test on my skin colour, hair type, etc.)

(Full size retails for $5)


Mirabella Primer, for your face and eyes. I've never used this, but a primer is basically something you put on before eyeshadow and foundation to help the product apply more smoothly. 

(Retails for $30)


Be a BombShell in Hot Mess. The colour did not show up well on this picture, and just the fact that it blends in with the hot pink tissue paper background should give you guys an idea of how BRIGHT this thing is.


This is my favourite of the bunch though! Red is always a good colour on your lips, no matter what your skin tone.

(Retails for $14)


Last, the Urban Decay 24/7 eyeliner in Zero. I've heard a lot of good reviews about Urban Decay, something about it being smooth like butter, haha. Only question is, how do you sharpen this?

(Retails for $19 at Sephora)


This is the bag it came in. It's a different bag every month. (Check out the Christmas lights bokeh in the background.)

The insides says ipsy.


Overall, I received over $50 worth of products for $10 (shipping is $4). Yeyeyeyeye.
(I apologize to my guy friends reading this. On the plus side, you now know enough about makeup to impress, and hopefully not outshine, any girl.) 

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The Real Stuff #12: All I want for Christmas is ...

Lately, all I have been thinking about is want I want for Christmas, which really isn't that much. Just oh you know, a job.

Dear God,

I may not celebrate Christmas and I don't even know how to properly celebrate Christmas and I don't care to celebrate Christmas, but one thing I know about Christmas is the fact that people give gifts to each other. So please God, if you're going to give me a gift, just make it a job.

Thanks,
xoxoxo
Ann

Just kidding. I know that God already has a job for me because I know he will never leave me hanging, so he might as well give it to me for Christmas.

My interview with the recruiter yesterday went well. She said, "I will do my best to help you get this job!" Which is nice, but it's her job to get me a job.

The job description is an Administrative Assistant position, which is why I was confused when during the interview she gave me a sheet of paper to proofread by spotting the spelling mistakes.

But I wasn't going to complain, except for the fact that I seriously cannot spell.

Tangent: I have very few talents in life. Sadly, one of my lacking talents is the fact that I cannot SPELL anything. Spell check has been my best friend since grade five.

She also gave me another test where I had to spot the corrections. One sheet of paper was the good copy, while the other sheet of paper was the rough copy, and I basically had to spot all the corrections they made.

Thankfully, I had my blackberry handy for the test, and the second test was easy. So I'm confident about getting this proofreading position I unknowingly applied for. I'm excited nonetheless, because I will be able to bring my lifelong dream of spotting grammatical mistakes into reality.

So that was nice, and I thanked God for giving me this opportunity. The recruiter  called me back today but I sadly missed her phone call. (The reason for this will be explained shortly.)

Yesterday, right before my interview with the recruiter, I received an email for a job interview today for Target.

I've had a million chances to apply for Target. In the summer, Lynette told me to apply, but I was unwilling to since all they had were full time positions and I couldn't see myself working full time for them. Then I had another opportunity during the career fair on campus, but again, they didn't have any part time positions so I didn't' apply. Finally, Tabitha told me that Target was hiring for part time positions last week, so I applied along with her.

Today, funnily enough, Tabitha and I both had the same interview for Target and we both got the job! Yay. I'm excited, although I can't speak on Tabitha's behalf. I'm only excited because this is my Christmas present from God.

I couldn't believe how much God was blessing me either, because I had two interviews in two days and  feel confident/received good results.

Although I vowed off retail, I am looking forward to working with Target, who by the way is already paying me more than Sears (Sears will always be the worst place to work).

My position is with merchandizing, which means I will be putting things on the shelves and do not have to deal with customers at all. Plus I think this will mean that I'll be working when the store is not operating.

So cheers to blessings and gifts.

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The Real Stuff #11: Jesus Antenna


Ok so I failed. I can't post everyday even though I don't have a real job or go to school anymore. I'm just ... too busy being not busy.

So I've recently amped up my job searching process, and by amp up I mean actually apply for jobs. For a while I had a couple of interviews that failed and led to nowhere, which made me extremely lethargic and give up on the whole thing. Last week, after checking my bank account and wallowing at the lack of funds, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and apply for something. 

Job searching is like buying a house. You just know when you've found the perfect house because you have that intuitive feeling that you belong there. It's the same thing with a job, although it's technically the company who's hiring. For the past few interviews, I didn't get the feeling that I belonged or that it was the right place for me. 

Actually, instead of calling it an intuitive feeling, I'm just going to call it my Jesus Antenna. 

Example One:
My interview for Cabbagetown Youth Centre. 

On paper it seemed like the perfect job, and when I got there it seemed like the perfect location (this was before the shooting at Cabbagetown). After the interview though, I left feeling like left out. I knew then that I wouldn't get it, although I prayed I would. For lack of better words, my Jesus Antenna told me there was something better out there. 

Example Two: 
My interview at English School of Canada.

Ok, this would have been the perfect job. If I had gotten it, I would be a tour guide for foreign exchange students, taking them on excursions to the mall, outdoor attractions in Toronto, overnight trips  to the States ....

But during the interview my Jesus Antenna told me I wouldn't get the job. And I didn't. Also, I knew that if I had gotten this job, I wouldn't have time on the weekends for Bible studies and church on Sunday. 

So these are the two examples of when my Jesus Antenna told me I wouldn't get the job. Here's a couple of examples where I felt otherwise:

Example One:
ELC

This job landed on my lap with such ease that I'm 100% sure it was God given. Nothing else could have helped me get this position. This was the perfect place for me to grow and move on from Sears, plus, it gave me the experience needed for my Teacher's College applications. My Jesus Antenna told me I would fit right in with this one.

Example Two: 
Sears

Yes, I complain and remind myself (and everyone else) that this was the worst place to ever work at. And it is. But my 3 2/3 years of working here wasn't all wasted, because it gave me enough customer service experience to boast about on my resume.

PLUS I have a cool story for how I got this job:

I went to Sears to get their application, but I kept on putting off handing it in for months and months. Eventually, I felt so guilty about it that I filled it in and stapled my resume with it, but I still never gave it in. 

One day my Jesus Antenna went up and felt that it was the right time to to hand my resume in. 

So I went in Sears and gave in my application. The lady at the counter looked at it and said, "Perfect! We're looking for someone right at this moment actually, are you available for an interview tomorrow?" 

As it turned out, the week before someone had just quit and I gave my resume in at the right time just when they were hiring. And I got the job. 

Anyway, all in all, I trust my Jesus Antenna 100% because it has led me to amazing things and led me away from crappy situations (my Jesus Antenna doesn't only work on jobs, it works on other situations as well). 

I wrote this post because I actually have an interview tomorrow. Although I would like this job, I really just have to see what it would be like after the interview. I've been qualified for all the interviews I've had, and I'm qualified for my interview tomorrow as well, so it's really just a matter of trusting Jesus and seeing if this is the right place for me to be. 

On that note, Monday is my pray for myself day. I hope you guys will join me and pray for me :P 

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Real Stuff #10: Prayer


I started a prayer schedule last month. This is what it looks like:

Monday: Myself
Tuesday: Family
Wednesday: Friends/Children’s Ministry
Thursday: LH and the church
Friday: My students
Saturday: Catch up
Sunday: Anything goes

I just wanted to share my schedule and hopefully inspire people to organize their prayers, haha.  

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The Real Stuff #9: Creation


So lately, I have been reading Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.

Frankenstein is such an amazing book. It’s a lot like inception because it is a story within a story within a story, so you can do some serious analysis with narration here. 

But contrary to popular belief, the real monster in Frankenstein is Victor Frankenstein, the creator of the Frankenstein monster.

The reason for this is because Victor is unfeeling and refuses to take responsibility for his creation. Instead of loving the monster, he is immediately repulsed by the life he’s given this creature, though he laboured endlessly with its creation for months and years.

The creature, like a normal human being, is hurt and angry by his creator’s repulsion and rejection. Rather than loving the creature he created, Victor abhors it.

(Argh, isn’t this book amazing? The endless possibilities of analysis …)

This can be related to God’s creation. If God hated that which he created, a.k.a. us, wouldn’t that just be sad? If God hated us, he would never have sent His son for us, we wouldn’t have reason to live, have hope, and understand love.

At first the creature was a blank slate. It didn’t know about love or hate and Victor’s malice towards it taught it of hate. We too were blank slates at first, not knowing about love or hate. If God hated us, we would be filled with hate towards him, rather than love.

And this is why Frankenstein is such an amazing book. It offers as a bleak alternative of a creator who hates his creation. Victor offers no love, no companionship, no trust towards his creature. But God offers the exact opposite.

Random: I made chapter tests for Frankenstein for work. 

I decided to put up some of the questions here. If anyone gets all of these questions right, I will give you a gingerbread cookie:

1) What did Walton read for the first 14 years of his life?
a) Fairy Tales
b) Harry Potter
c) Henry Clerval’s book about voyages
d) Uncle Thomas’ book of voyages

2) Why did the ship’s master decide not to get married?

a) He decided he loved his ship more than her
b) His fiancée loved another man and let her go because he wanted her to be happy
c) He woke up one day and realized his fiancée was ugly
d) His fiancée died of a tragic accident

3) What does Victor witness during thunderstorms?
a) A bold of lightning striking and killing a man
b) A bolt of lightning illuminating the sky
c) flying pigs
d) A bolt of lightning that strikes and destroys a tree

4) What does the creature do when he visits Victor in his bedroom?
a) The creature starts to dance gangnam style
d) The creature grins and holds out his hand to Victor
c) The creature frowns and tries to hit Victor
d) The creature grins and tries to eat Victor 

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The Real Stuff #8: Serving


For the past year, once a month Tabitha and I would help out with the Children’s ministry at church by being teachers for one of the kids group.

It started out fun and aloof, we’d be there to entertain the kids and babysit them, sing with them, feed them too much sugar, tell them a Bible story.

But then it got serious.

How?

First, we started praying for the kids. Praying started out casual, at first it’d be something like, “Dear God, I hope the kids memorize their Bible verses this week,” or “I pray that they would listen and be so hyper.” But then prayer does a weird thing, because the more you pray, the more you start to care. So it became less about the their behavior and slowly became more about their families, loving God, and soon, about preserving the kids in the church as they grow up. How did that happen! They went from being once a month type serving to something I think about almost everyday, it’s like they slowly buried themselves in my brain and heart.

Second, I realized it is more than just babysitting and that my attitude towards it was all wrong. If I just look at it as just babysitting, it doesn’t really help anyone at all. Shirley pointed out to us that this is more than just babysitting, but it’s a type of attitude and mentorship that we’re providing for the kids. And it’s true because these kids really do look up to us. It’s scary sometimes, realizing that when they grow up, they might either look back at my time with them as an agonizing memory or something that really helped them love the Lord more. In a way, we’re serving as an example of someone who loves God and what it is to serve God.

Also, parents care a lot about who is influencing their children. They  are the ones who appreciate your serving more than the children because they understand and worry about the type influences that their children are surrounded by. So in the end, you’re also helping out their family.

Third, it is more than just a Bible story. A story is just a story, you can tell them about Jesus healing a blind man and whether they take something away from it is up in the air. After a while I realized that Jesus is not just a story, he’s a friend and someone I would want these kids to be friends with as well.

Moral: There is no such thing as serving lightly. If you’re serving God, you’re either all in or all out.

Also, I’m very, very, very thankful I am serving with Tabitha! She’s taught me a lot about patience and I learn a lot just by observing her interactions with them. If I weren’t serving with Tabitha, I would have quit a long time ago. It also helps that Tabitha and I care about this because we’re able to pray about it together and have the same burden. 

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The Real Stuff #7: Charlie's Story


This is how Charlie spends his day at home.

Breakfast is at 7 am. Roast Chicken Ceasar dog food, bits of scraps from the floor which are sometimes cookie crumbs, rice, and noodles. Pedro and Gigi are awake at this time, and sometimes Pedro gives Charlie bacon and toasted bread with butter.

Breakfast would end at 8 am. Charlie watches Gigi, Annabelle, and Pedro leave the house. One time he followed them outside and ran around everyone’s lawn, trying to find the perfect pooping spot. They weren’t very happy with him.

From 8 to 10 Charlie waits around for everyone else to wake up. Ann is usually up by 9, but she doesn’t like to be bothered. Its Matthew Charlie is waiting for because Matthew lets Charlie out in the backyard. Ann is just mean to Charlie and sometimes forgets that Charlie is in the backyard. One time he got soaking wet.

At 10 Matthew is up and Charlie is happy. He jumps up and down begging to be fed even though he only just ate. Matthew lets him outside to do his business. Sometimes if Charlie poops fast, Matthew gives him a treat. This is nice, but pooping shouldn’t be hurried. It’s serious stuff.

Charlie remembers the one time he was constipated. He whined and cried until Ann had to use her hands to …. Well you get the picture. Ann had to punish Charlie by giving him a bath and was very disappointed in him. He doesn’t like being cold after baths so he cuddled close to Ann, which was nice. But being constipated is no joke.

From 10 onwards, the morning passes by quickly because he is busy following Matthew everywhere.

At lunch time, he has to eat dog food because Matthew doesn’t like feeding him human food. Dog food is tiring to eat. He prefers Pedro because Pedro feeds him the real stuff. Sometimes Aaron and Ann gives him real food also, but only sometimes because they don’t want Matthew to be mad.

Around 3 Matthew and Charlie go for a walk around the park for one hour. This is his favourite time of the day because he gets to be around other dogs. His neighbour, Selina, is a yappy and annoying dog that likes to bark. Charlie doesn’t like her very much. His best friend is the Chow Chow who lives two streets down. His name is Fred. Fred always has amazing stories to tell Charlie because he is old and hairy.

One time Fred told the story of how he dug up a hole so deep, they had to hire a crane to pull him out. Then one time he told the story of how he befriended an entire family of ducks and convinced them to take him flying. Fred must have been the only dog who was ever able to fly.

At 4, Charlie gets ready to nap. He sleeps next to the front door because the sun shines through the window and he feels comfy in that spot. If he gets tired of napping, Charlie plans on staying very still, watching the dust motes pass by.  Most of the time, Charlie doesn’t have it in him to stay still, so he ends up chewing on everyone’s shoes.

While chewing on shoes, Charlie likes to get philosophical. What does it mean to be a dog? What are the disadvantages of being hairy or having no hair, like his humans? Also, Charlie likes to think about what it is to be alive. He doesn’t remember ever being not alive, so being alive is a curious thing.

This is what Charlie is doing until Gigi and Pedro comes home. Today, they came home with a gigantic tree that sheds all over the place. Charlie wondered if it was edible. They set it up, decorated it with lights and balls and kept saying nice things about it. Gigi gave the tree water, which Charlie thought was for him so he drank it up.

Pedro took pictures with Charlie in front of the tree. Then Gigi took pictures with Charlie in front of the tree. Then they took pictures of Charlie by himself in front of the tree. Charlie felt very popular.

Later on Ann came home. She made instant noodles and Charlie watched very patiently, hoping she’d drop some on the floor so he can eat it up.

When Annabelle came home, Vinay was with her. Vinay was holding a container of fish curry, which got Charlie’s attention right away so he licked Vinay’s socks like there was no tomorrow.

This is Charlie’s favourite time of the day because everyone is eating. Everyone gathers around the table and Charlie runs from person to person in excitement, not know what to do.

And so Pedro gives him a piece of his steak. Vinay gives him a piece of fish. Annabelle tried to give him spinach but he doesn’t like vegetables. Gigi accidentally dropped rice for him. It was only Ann who didn’t drop anything because she is stingy and careful with her noodles.

After everyone is well fed and Charlie is satisfied, he finds a comfy spot to lie down under the tree. He is suddenly very happy because the tree smells good. When Matthew comes home that night, he plans on telling Matthew everything that he ate that evening. 

It’s good to be a dog, Charlie muses. 

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The Real Stuff #6: Friendship


Tonight I wasn’t planning on going anywhere after work, but I was starving and let my stomach dictated my actions.

I ended up having dinner with John, Ariel, and Hannah. On the lonely bus ride home afterwards, I mused on my friendships them. 

The story of how I met Hannah:
I don’t remember meeting Hannah, I just remember her appearing and knowing she was Hannah. It wasn’t until my second year when I was put in Hannah’s small group in LH that I remember talking to Hannah. At this time, I was moody and angry all the time, which made sense when Hannah later on told me that I use to always have a scowl on my face.

I also later on found out why I was in Hannah’s small group, which was because Hannah said she and I were close friends. When Hannah told me this, my reaction was, “What? We’re close?”

Which was very mean to say, but like I said, I was very moody and angry all the time. Later on I appreciated this because if it wasn’t for Hannah’s (and other people from LH) friendship I would still be angry and moody all the time. Hannah use to remind me that when she first met me, she just knew we were going to be good friends. I use to doubt it, but now I agree.

The story of how I met Ariel:
One night I went in the kitchen at Cecil and found Ariel washing cups. This was in first year. I was trying to be polite and so I struck up conversation and said, “Thanks for washing the cups.”

Ariel replies, “Its because we’re part of the same church.”

Her simple reply left me very impressed, so the week after when I went back to LH, I looked for Ariel. 

But Ariel was gone and I didn’t see her for another year even though she lived at Cecil. I was determined that when we met up again, we would be friends.

The really short version of how I met John:
John was always around but I never talked to him because I thought he was old and was always causing trouble. At that time, it was also taboo to talk to guys at church. In high school, he became friends with my best friend and that’s how we started talking. The first thing he said to me was, “How come you don’t have any guy friends?”

Which was mean because I was only following the rules of not talking to guys

So John became my first real guy friend.

Being friends with Christians is different, and not different in a sense that all we ever do when we get together is talk about God. Although it’s a healthy to have discussions about God, it is also important to be friends on a social level.

And even though we’re all completely different, we’re willing to put up with each other; we sit and listen when the other person is talking about something we could care less about, like the time Hannah couldn’t stop talking about Green Lantern.

I also recently realized that praying for each other helps the friendship, because when you pray for each other, it feels like you are sharing their burden with them. Rather than just complaining to each other and feeling hopeless, we pray and put our hopes on God to solve. 

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The Real Stuff #4: Evangelism


Today in the subway, a woman came up to me and handed me a gospel track. Then she told me that I should pray as soon as I wake up in the morning.

I thanked her and watched her mosey down the train handing gospel tracks out to everyone (it was on a new train so she wasn’t limited to just one cart), telling them to read it.

I like this woman because she’s not afraid to get in your face. Plus, since she basically forced everyone to read her gospel track, for a good five minutes everyone had it open in front of them.

One particular woman seemed to be meditating on it. She’s the type of woman who looks mad at everyone and everything, so it was a good thing she didn’t just fling the paper to the side.

If you guys were given a gospel track, would you actually read it or toss it aside as rubbish?

If you plan on throwing it aside, have you ever considered how much courage it took that person to give you the gospel track?

Evangelizing/preaching the gospel is not easy, although some of the people who do it at Yonge/Dundas makes it seem like you need to be crazy to do it (literally).

To me, evangelizing can go two ways:

1) I tell them about Jesus and they reject what I am saying, thereby instantly making me feel mortified to the point where I just want to melt into a puddle and disappear in the sewers.    

Side story: Last summer after coming back from preaching the gospel in the States, Sandy told me about her experiences. At one point she said she broke down crying after talking to someone, but not because that person humiliated her or was mean to her, but because she loves Jesus so much that the thought of someone rejecting Him was just too much for her. That’s real love right there.

2) That person accepts Christ.

And it’s as simple as that. More than that though, I over think being rejected and come up with too many excuses not to do it.

For this is why the gospel was preached even to those who are dead, that though judged in the flesh the way people are, they might live in the spirit the way God does.
1 Peter 4:6

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The Real Stuff #3: Let Faith Determine Your Circumstances


I’ve been thinking a lot about letting my faith determine my circumstances, rather than having it the other way around, where my circumstances would determine my faith. (It was Hannah or Caitlin who mentioned this phrase to me during GST one day.)

Meaning, I should keep what God has promised me in mind, that he will not change and has my future worked out for me. If I was to let my circumstances determine my faith I wouldn’t have any faith left, considering the hopeless situations I constantly find myself in.

But there’s a flip-side to this where your faith determines too much of your circumstances.

Yesterday, I came across two articles about Islam and the Jewish religion where they let their faith determine too much of their circumstances to the point where it had less to do with religion, and more to do with the comfort of oppression.

Article one had to do with the technological oppression of women in Saudi Arabia. In short, women’s rights in Saudi Arabia are defined by Islam and what some people might consider medieval ways of thinking. The technological oppression is from the fact that men will now get an SMS if their women (wife, daughter, sister) leave the kingdom.

(Random fact: Saudi Arabia is the only country in the world that does not allow women to drive.)

Article two had to do with the Jewish faith and how people are worried that parts of Israel is becoming too religious, to the point where they’re trying to limit how many candles a person can light up on the Sabbath.

In both cases, it struck me as odd that they let their faith determine their circumstances to the point where it began to oppress others. The danger here lies in the comfort of following those who oppress you. Admittedly though, the comfort comes from knowing that as long as you follow what religion tells you to do, you’re on the right track, and that following monotonous rules and laws to the T becomes a check list of your way to heaven.

But then, that’s not faith anymore, that’s just following rules.

A good example of letting faith determine circumstances was when Paul was thrown into prison and refused to let that dictate his identity or alter his faith. Rather than giving up because he was physically bound up, he realized his Spirit isn’t chained up. In his letter to the Philippians he rejoiced in God’s provision and learned to be content in his circumstances, saying, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)

So moral of the story: Simple faith, that is all. 

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The Real Stuff #2: Trial


Last week I said goodbye to one of my students, Moss.

Moss is also a Christian who plays the drums for his church and is happy to tell anyone of his faith, which is why I decided to write a verse on the goodbye card I gave him.

Problem was, I didn’t have a verse in mind.

I wish I had that uncanny gift of being able to come up with a verse on the spot that would be suitable for any occasion. Uninterestingly enough, my chief interest with the Bible lies with the Old Testament and all the glory of war, famine, suffering, and insufficient kings that comes with it. Psalms and Proverbs would definitely have verses for all occasions, but poetry and I repel each other.

So this is why I couldn’t come up with a verse to write in the goodbye card.

Thankfully, I have a Bible app. on my trusty ipad, so all I had to do was type in a key word to search. After much contemplation, I decided that Moss will most likely have a long suffering existence as a super Korean student, so I looked for a verse on trials.

This is what I found:

James 1:12
Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.

After I gave him the card, I looked back on the verse and wondered why I picked it since it didn’t fit the “Good Luck In the Future!” context.

I think what I meant by the verse was: Your troubles will never be over, but if you’re steadfast in your faith through trials you will receive God’s promise of life which I don’t Moss got.

Anyway, moral of the story: I should probably read the New Testament.

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The Real Stuff #1: What Makes This Place So Good?


Inspired by my good, but gullible (jks), friend Eddie, I will blog everyday for the next 31 days. But on what topic?

This year with Aaron getting sick, my parent’s divorce, Charlie being born, and Pedro moving in with us, my mom decided to put up a Christmas tree. 

My family has an on and off again relationship with Christmas. We stopped celebrating Christmas when we grew up since Christmas has always been about getting new toys. Besides that, my parent’s church always condemned the holiday, preaching that it was wordly and borderline sinful to celebrate.

This year our Christmas tree is real, as in a real tree that once had its roots in the soil, rather than the fake plastic Christmas tree we use to have. This tree sheds and makes a mess, but it smells good; deep down we’re hoping Charlie doesn’t start peeing underneath it.

So maybe that will be the topic of my blog posts for the next 31 days: The real Christmas and the real Christian.

I almost feel like Winston Smith in Orwell’s 1984. In the dystopian novel, writing your own thoughts can book you time in jail. When Winston began to write his own thoughts in a journal he bought, he knew he was basically sentencing himself with the Thought Police. He wrote anyway, in sheer panic, realizing later why he did it: because his thoughts are the real him.

I can relate to Winston because I feel like I never write about the real me in this blog. I avoid the topic of Christianity as much as possible and refer to it in passing since I am too well aware and conscious of my non-Christian friends reading this. Not verbalizing this part of my life to my friends is causing too much of a gap between us.

So here goes:

Today is Sunday, which has been my favourite day of the week for the past year because Sunday means going to church.

To me, going to church is vital to my sanity. It’s a time to recap, be reminded of what the important things in life are, and be reminded of what the point of what I do is. It is also a time to rejoice.

Anyway, so today, after much coaxing on my part, Eddie and Johnny finally struck up a conversation with this new guy just as we were about to leave (their conversation ended up with a ping-pong tournament).

Max, the new guy, asked what was so good about this church, since he noticed that a lot of people who attended do not live in the direct neighbourhood. He’s like, “the message is good and the food is good. What makes this place so good?”

Although it sounds like he answered his own question, I think he was looking for a better answer.

So I answered him in my head, “nothing we’ve done makes us good. If the food is good, it is because God made the company you ate the food with good. If the message is good, it is because God wanted us to be reminded of his love and the Spirit was working with that brother. If you find us giving you hospitality, being a good neighbour, inviting you to join us for other meetings, it’s because we love God and want to spend time with Him.”   

Maybe I’ll voice out my answer next time. 

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Do My Words Make Sense?


Dear brother – do my words make sense? Or are they just forms of alliterations flying high past your head, abstractions so tangible they don’t connect with the reality of what I really mean? Are they the same as the voices in your head when you disconnect from us? The same voices that tell you you’re God when -

Nights like these shed tears leading to physical convulsions of bodily ailments not related to psychosis, of weak stomachs, of swollen eyes, of mucused noses, of hurt throats – which are somehow mysteriously connected to tired emotional physical spiritual selves. We curse like Frankenstein’s creature of the meaning of careless creation, much like that of Satan to God as banished from Paradise – a story of morality or one of debate? Whatever it may be, this scholarly war of existence, this talk of childhood, this terror of mistake, death, disease –

Are you following? Do my words make sense?

Lysergic acid diethylamide, that’s a hallucinogen, and 3,4-methylenedioxymethamphetamine, or Adam or Love, if you must know, leaps from Canada to the blind states on the streets where in universities they create radiant cool eyes and cause ecstasy of love on pimply faced zit faced braced faced rebellious faced youth faced – and poetry suddenly makes sense, Blake had a vision, so did Ginsberg, and so do you – who suddenly dreams of being famous on facebook singing songs of your own gospel and the terror you’ve caused men – Moses! Why do you need Aaron when I called you -

Like The Waste Land we burry your head as dead, when you defecate yourself and pee in a bottle, the cruelest month becomes June when broken vows were made and broken babies are born broken because genetics are broken – brother do you understand? Brother do you know what I mean? How can you create life so carelessly, asked the creature, take responsibility – and I tried, didn’t you see how I looked through the glass window to see if you were crying? Open the door, let me pinch you while you’re still here -

And like an urgent dream we woke up. It smells like bleach down the stairs, last night I scrubbed and scrubbed until I couldn’t yell anymore. I went to bed and wrote you words, do they make sense?

Brother, wake up, its time to move on. 


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Clean Slate

On my way home from my convocation tonight, I realized something amazing:


My life is a clean slate. 

And never again in my life will I have the chance to do absolutely everything I want to do. (Well, maybe when I'm retired I'll have the same freedom, but who wants to wait to be that old to start enjoying life?) 

Think about it, now that I've graduated and have this fancy piece of paper that I've been told to yearn after since birth, what I do with my life until the time I get married and start having kids is up to me. If I want, I never, ever have to go back to school again!

If I can look into the distant future and talk to my future self, what advice would I give myself today? 

Future Ann who got married when she was 24: Don't get married! Marriage is a trap! There's no such thing as happily ever after and once you get married the person you dated completely changes. It's like you don't even know him. Remember all those good years you spent time with all those guys? You should have chosen better! Instead of having a Bible study once a week with Hannah, you and Hannah now get together once a week to complain about your husbands and who you should have chosen instead of so and so. Trust me. Marriage is the worst idea ever!* 

Future Ann who started to have kids at age 25: Don't have kids! Kids are a trap! Kids are nothing but headaches that never go away. And you'll get fat. Remember all your plans about reading Shakespeare to your kid once it turns one and taking it to Stratford to see a play once a year so it will grow up educated? Won't happen. The little brat will hate Shakespeare and break your heart. Also, the daycare you plan to open up in your basement with Tabitha's kids turns out to be illegal. Don't do it. 

Future Ann who became obsessed with her career at age 25: A career is ok. But Money is a trap! Being a teacher/whatever isn't all that worth it. Those brats will drive you up the wall and cause panic attacks. Eventually, you'll learn the hard way that it's better to be feared than loved. Trust me. Remember all those made up scenarios in your head about enlightening kids and having them come back to you years after thanking you for changing their lives? Won't happen! Also, you became too obsessed with your career and never got married. You now have 5 cats. 

As you can see, Future Ann has a lot to say. 

Anyway, here's a random story:

Remember my friend Jessica Oh? Short, beautiful, and very, very Korean? We've been friends since elementary school and use to 'do homework' together everyday after school. (Homework = watching t.v. while drinking coke on my bed.) 

Since our last names are usually next to each other on the attendance list, when we graduated elementary and high school we were always beside each other. And I guess nothing has changed because, as it turns out, Jessica was also graduating today. When I saw her I thought it was very fitting since graduation wouldn't be the same without her, in one sense or another. 

But it was kind of creepy. Out of all the people, and of all the different countries, and of all the different provinces, and of all the different cities, and of all the different neighbourhoods, and of all the different houses, and of all the different schools, high schools and universities, and out of all the different colleges in that university, and out of all the months and years to graduate in, we ended up being together for the third time in our lives. CREEPY.  

So that's it. I'll blog about the actual ceremony later and how I felt like I was totally in Harry Potter when I was running around with the robe on. 

*My relatives talk like this

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One of Many Doctor Appointments

Turns out the mysterious tenant's name is Pedro. I use to have a guinea pig named Pinto, so it's all good.

Aaron had a doctor's appointment today, and my mom forced Pedro to drive us to the hospital. He was nice about it, even when the appointment ran longer than I told him it would. I used the the time in the car to grill Pedro about his mysterious past:

Me: So how long have you been in Canada?

Pedro: Two years. Halloween is tomorrow right?

Me: What?

Pedro: Halloween.

Me: What?

Pedro: Halloween. When kids go around getting candy and they dress up.

Me: OH Halloween! Right, right, it's tomorrow.

--- Silence ---

Woops. I couldn't understand him because he has a very thick accent, but we did talk about other things
too, like his autistic nephew (who happens to be my mom's best friend, long story).

Anyway, so Aaron's condition is not all that much better. We're all worried about whether or not he'll be able to have much of a career. In the end, there's only so much the doctors and my family can do for him, since it really depends on how much he wants it. He's the one who has to fight the battle.

Mental illness runs deep in my family though, and cancer for that matter. Dum dum dum! Annabelle is always scaring us by talking about genetic triggers to certain things.

Here's a list of the misfortunes that runs deep with my family:
1) Uncle Peter, who was born with mental illness
2) Aunty Grace, who has breast cancer
3) My grandpa, who died of stomach cancer
4) My grandma, who died of some sort of illness

With this kind of history, I'm especially worried about Aaron.

But in the end, doesn't it all just depend on how mentally strong a person is?

Dr. Rass, Aaron's doctor, is especially helpful and goes beyond his duty. He has a very fatherly/concerned friend air about him. He's a psychologist and knows how to keep Aaron in line. Although I may fail to truly appreciate him as a doctor since I'm not in the medical field, I am really grateful for the nurturing care and attention he's giving Aaron.

In life, there will always be barriers. Some of them are easier to abandon than others. A job would be easier to abandon to pursue a dream. Family isn't. I just hope people can understand this answer.

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English Teachers Are Evil

It's very common for students to assume that English teachers are evil, and that's because they have a hard time understanding what they're saying. And most of the time, it feels like they're speaking another language, what with Shakespeare and Lochinvar.

So I have one student named Tally, whom I've been helping for the past month. Recently, she's been panicking over an analytical essay she has to do for English. After interpreting her English teacher's instructions (interpreting = speaking teenager), she thanked me a million times for making her essay sound good. In reality, all I did was fix her sentence structure.

Here are some things English teachers say that confuse students:

What are you proving?
Translation: Come up with something original and entertain me.  

Your thesis is a summary. Change it!
Translation: I've read the story, I don't need you to summarize it. Spare me the headache. 

Get to the point, don't use fluffy words!
Translation: Don't repeat phrases like "as a matter of fact", "that it is", and "which is proven" will make your essay longer. 

Don't retell, analyze! 
Translation: I'm going to have to read something intellectual after reading your essay to save my brain from melting.

The truth is, English teachers are bored. Not evil.

But also, I've noticed that one of the things that scares students the most is not the evil-nature of their teachers, but rather that blank page or a page with jumbled up words that don't mean what they think.

Writing is easy; all you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until the drops of blood form on your forehead. 
-Gene Fowler 

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Back Up Career

Yesterday, I made green tea matcha shortbread for this blog. I decided that I need to start baking like a pro incase I need a back up career (as a baker, not a blogger).

My mom use to have her own baking initiative called Half Cup Sugar where she would bake random filipino desserts/breads and sold it to random filipino stores. She gave up on that a few years ago, but is starting up again with fruitcakes (and only fruitcakes!) this time.

Anyway, I'm hoping I've inherited at least some of her baking skills. I'm trying to bake something new every week.

The green tea matcha shortbread was a success though, this morning a bunch of sour gummy bears tried to run off with it:


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Reblog: MIND THE GAP on the Adult School Bus

Rebloging a short story I wrote for the other blog because the other blog has a better blogging platform and community. I wrote this for the Daily Post Challenge about writing something about children being adult oriented places and I'm pretty sure I did this wrong. Woops.
I've included a pretty interesting video at the end. (Oh youtube. you're just a petri dish of conversations.) 
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MIND THE GAP on the Adult School Bus
The sign that read “MIND THE GAP” displayed a picture of a chunky stick figure trying to get out of the triangle. Why would you need to have such pointless picture? What did GAP even have to do with this? 
At lunch break today Ravi told Gail what GAP really meant.
“Get A Penis!” He boasted, while Gail stared awestruck wondering where he got the nerve to say something so crude.
But there are different meanings for GAP, reasoned Gail, as she stepped into the train. It could be the clothing store, that place dad said was too expensive. Her aunt bought her a sweater from there once, she didn’t particularly care for it but it’s expensive so she has to at least think about it.
Ravi said something else today. Ever since the start of the year it’s as if the goddess of wisdom bestowed her knowledge on him, leaving everyone else far behind on their path to adulthood. But what he said was something Gail couldn’t understand. Or maybe understand is the wrong word.
It was something she couldn’t explain quite fully.
On the train she sat adjacent two women who talked loudly so that Gail couldn’t keep up with her thoughts.
“What kind of woman brings her kid to a tanning salon! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And do you know what idiotic lawyer said? That she’s not addicted to tanning! Look at her face! If that’s not addicted to tanning, what is it? Liver malfunction?”
“Is she married?”
“Dear lord, I feel so bad for her husband.”
“Why would you bring a child to a tanning salon? Even Snookie or Snoopy wouldn’t do that.”
“That’s the thing though, there are just some places children shouldn’t be at!”
“You mean just about anywhere anyone wants to stay sane?”
Gail tried to block them out. What did Ravi say?
It was right after lunch at their lockers. She doesn’t usually talk to Ravi, but their lockers were right beside each other so that she had easy access to his conversations with others.
“I don’t understand why my dad needs to know, it’s not like he knows what I’m talking about or anything. I’m past that age.”
“What?” Ryan, who seemed to care less about what his friend was saying, asked. There was something about Ravi’s attitude that annoyed him.
Ravi looked at Ryan incredulously. “What do you mean what? He said I needed to start saving my money, look into the future a bit more. Bull crap. Look, if he really knew what he was talking about, why hasn’t he got any money now? Sounds like he should take his own advice.”
Ryan rolled his eyes at Ravi. It was clear he was annoyed. “Ravi shut up! Have some respect, he’s your dad for god’s sake. Obviously he knows what he’s talking about.”
“Don’t take your kids to the movies. Definitely not weddings, especially when they’ve thrown in some money in there. Not to fancy restaurants either.”
That’s it! That’s what Ravi said. She shot a look over at the two women for interrupting her thoughts, but then caught herself in time. But what did Ravi mean? What age is he past of – she thought that she knew for sure they were the same age. And saving money seems like a practical advice.
The train came to a halt and the two women stood up to leave. “Just don’t take kids anywhere where you have to throw in a bit of cash, if you know what I mean.”
Gail suddenly noticed, with some discomfort, that she was the only child on the train. Across from her sat older students, who sat near sleepy middle-aged men, who sat near a young couple, who sat near a construction worker. The train sluggered on like a tired adult school bus.
But no one seemed to mind her, though she felt like she was intruding in on something private. A private world she knew nothing of that Ravi must know about, or else he wouldn’t have said that about his dad. What about her dad? He still seemed to know everything.
As she stepped off the train she read the sign again. MIND THE GAP.
But what is this gap they’re talking about?
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Wait a minute, is that ... nutella? 


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