Temptation and the need to Clone Myself

Last night I sat in front of my laptop for an hour thinking of ways to blog about having to deal with temptation, and in the end coming out empty. Temptation is probably the hardest topic to blog about, since it can get really personal. In any case, it's a good thing I have my hands full since this way I can't be troubled with temptation so much.

There are different kinds of temptation. The ones that I probably come across with most often, aside from the temptation of calling in sick to work (which happens whenever I have a shift now), would have to do with guys. This is not to say that I have a lot of guys around me that are tempting or whatever, I just feel like as a girl, I have an obligation to end conversations with guys. It's like, when I have conversations with guys I'm always tempted to keep the conversation going but at the same time, I know I have to end it so I don't give the wrong impression that I'm interested.

Ok, so what I really want to blog about is a rant on my need to clone myself. I've been giving this some serious thought lately, and I seriously think that cloning myself would be the best idea. This way, with all the super cloned Ann's running around, I'd have time to do everything I want to do.

What I would send my army of clones to do:

1) One clone will be dedicated to teaching and making lesson plans. This will be the super multitasked clone that will always be high on sugar and caffein and never be low on energy. This will also be the clever clone that will be able to make SSAT lessons on a whim.

2) One clone will be dedicated to doing fun stuff with the girls. I.e. going to the beach, summerlicious, going to light house, watching movies with Jennifer, having sleepovers at Hannah's, going to Manley's birthday lunch, spending as much time with my cousins while they're here in Toronto, etc. This clone will be tanned and hip and never stressed.

3) One clone will be dedicated to summer school. This clone will have a very boring time since this clone will spend her days reading all the time, and by all the time, I mean ALL the time. (My advanced seminar class is no joke. Actually, it's far from a joke. It's murder.) This clone will also be busy writing essays and making presentations. In short, this clone will have no life and will most likely be stuck in the library most of the time.

4) One clone will be dedicated to the retail job. This clone will never call in sick because of a sunburn, and will take all the shifts given to her, which means at least five shifts a week. This clone will also take extra shifts if she can, which essentially means that this clone will be the money maker. This clone will also have to be high on sugar all the time so she can deal with angry customers properly.

And I will be the manager and make sure my clones are doing their job properly.

Problem now is, where am I going to find a machine to clone myself?!? (On a student budget too)

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Sunburn: the Consequence of Lying

So perhaps I may have just done a particularly stupid thing to do. Although I often lie, I'm pretty bad at it when I have to be good at telling one.

In the past two days, I've been busily preparing for the upcoming summer course schedule/materials for the kids I teach. The course material is something I like to call 'torture package' because it's intense and jammed packed with material. For example: the course is eight weeks long, and we're making the kids read 3 books. That's one book every two and a half weeks, which is a lot of readings. (It's about as much as I have to do for my classes.)

Anyway, preparing the course material hasn't exactly been the most exciting thing, but I'd have to say that it's been interesting to do. You just never have enough time, and you can never be done preparing because there's always something to do.

So on with my lie. Basically, because I still have a lot to prepare and have been busy, I haven't been thinking properly. I realized today that I over booked myself: meaning that I have to teach my lesson tomorrow and at the same time be at work.

I sat back for a moment and thought about it. In my 3 1/4 years in working at retail, not once have I ever called the sick line, so I decided that since I was quitting soon anyway, I might as well. I called the store to ask for the sick line number, and just as my excellent luck would have it, someone I knew well happened to pick up the phone. It's really hard lying to someone you know well, since they can probably detect whether you're faking it or not. Thankfully, because of this experience, I can now share how to fake a sick call with you guys:

How to fake a sick call in an (not so) effective way:

1) Don't breath.

Holding your breath will make it sound like you have a cold. Plus, the fact that you're practically gasping for air because you're not breathing while you're talking makes it sound more authentic.

2) Make your illness short and sweet, don't elaborate unless they ask you to.

3) Keep your lies straight.

Although number 3 is sound advice, I may not have followed it too well. What ended up happening was that the person who picked up the phone asked me to call back later to talk to my manager, Zovig, and tell her I was sick. I felt uneasy doing this, because I knew for a fact that Zovig would be able to tell if I was faking it or not. Plus she's a really caring person so I knew she would want me to elaborate my sickness.

This left me with no choice. I called my mom and told her to call Zovig for me and tell her I was sick. Unfortunately, this had it's own consequences.

What I told my mom to say: "Mom, tell them I am at home sick with the flu and I can't come in to work tomorrow."

What my mom actually said: "Ok I called them and told them you were sick. I told them you had the flu and had a bad SUNBURN so you spent the entire day in bed. No more lies! This is the last time I'm doing this for you!"

....

She told them I had SUNBURN? What am I going to do the next time I come into work without a SUNBURN? Does this mean I actually have to go outside and get myself a sunburn just so my lie won't seem like a lie?

I don't even know what kind of lesson I'm suppose to take away from this experience, since my lie was a consequence of doing a noble thing: teaching kids English. T.T

Perhaps a moral of the story could be to never ask my mom to lie for me. She was the one who told me no to tell lies in the first place, after all.

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Strength, Grace and Mercy

Dear Blog,

Today was a really random Sunday.

It all begun on Friday, when I went to the CityYouth conference in the evening and was inspired by Michael's sharing. He said that while he was waiting for the bus that morning, he prayed that it'd come sooner so he wouldn't be late for the conference. Then he mentioned something about seeing a kid and his father holding hands, and how we should be like the kid, just letting God guide us. Anyway, that was the gist of his sharing, maybe those of you who also heard it can fill in the gap of what else he said in the comments.

So today, I woke up bright and early for a Sunday and got ready to go to the church on Sheppard, since I promised Tabs that I would be there. Just as I finished getting ready, my mom and dad whipped me into the car and off we went to their church, which I'm used to by now so I held my tongue and didn't say anything.

When we arrived, I told my mom that as soon as we broke bread I was going, and for some reason, she was ok with it. My plan had been to hitchhike on a bus (which really isn't hitchhiking) and dash off to the church on Sheppard in time for the 11 a.m. meeting.

So I waited, and waited, and waited for the bus for at least half an hour. I felt silly standing there, and at one point even contemplated going back inside seeing as it wasn't meant to be. It was already 11 and the meeting had begun, but for some reason I decided to be stubborn and kept standing there. Then, I begun to pray, having suddenly remembered Michael's testimony.

I was like, "Lord, even if I get there at 11:45, please make the bus come soon. I just really, really want to go to the meeting. Also, I promise to listen to you more from now on."

Suddenly, to my surprise, the bus arrived! And to top it off, I asked the bus driver if the bus was going to York Mills Station (which was the closes station) but he said that the bus was headed to Bayview station instead, which is within walking distance to the meeting hall.

I was so happy that I spent the entire bus ride talking to God about whatever, like the stuff that I'm stressed about and is giving me anxiety. Coincidentally, the message that morning was also on prayer. Prayer is one of those ambiguous things that I tend to brush aside, since I feel like I can rely more on my own capability. Sometimes I need to be reminded that the things that I am worried and anxious about really isn't worth anything in hindsight, and that God has bigger plans.

And I ended up getting there at 11:25-ish. I snuck behind Tabs and scared her.

Ok so the reason today was a really random Sunday is also because right after the meeting, I headed off to have lunch with the other teachers at ELC. I was expecting to go to some random Korean restaurant since North York Center Station is in the midst of Korea town, but to my surprise, Jason, my boss, drove us to his house instead, which coincidentally enough, is close to where I live.

Oh and there are five teachers who came for lunch, including myself. Everyone else teaches Math and Science, but I'm the only English teacher which is why I felt like an alien. Jokes, not really, but I still find it interesting how I ended up being the only English teacher. All the other teachers are cool, they're all surprisingly older than I am except Fatima, who happens to be a fan of The Game of Thrones so we spent a good amount of time discussing the series.

So we went to Jason's house and his wife served us awesome homemade Korean food. (By the way, homemade Kimchi tastes totally different from store bought Kimchi. It's a bit bitter and a lot more spicy.) Lunch was interesting, and more interesting still, we went bowling after lunch. By this time, I just kept thinking of how much cooler this job is than my retail job, and how completely random it is that I am bowling with my coworkers.

Anyway, I think my point is that today I have learned that I truly cannot rely on my own abilities, because I am forgetful and emotional, which always gets in the way. Instead, I have to rely on God to provide me with opportunities according to what he has planned for me, a.k.a my teaching job, and learn to trust and have faith on him more, a.k.a getting to the meeting somewhat on time this morning. To rely on his strength, his grace and mercy is a constant lesson I am forever learning, and thankfully, God is patient enough to bear with me.

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Family Get Togethers, Bad Omens and Doodles

Happy Canada Day!

Usually, I spend Canada day with Amy Tang somewhere in Toronto to watch fireworks (which are always disappointing), but this year I spent it with my family since my aunt and two cousins arrived yesterday evening from Vancouver to stay here with us for a month.

The last time I saw my cousins was at least five years ago, when they were still young and shorter than me. Before their arrival, everyone kept telling me that Michelle, the older of the two, is super tall and super athletic. In my head, I always figured that they were just boasting since they haven't seen Michelle in a while. I also stalk my cousins sometimes on facebook, which is why I got the impression that Michelle would be some dorky, tall and lanky athletic kid, who went to church all the time and listened to her parents.

So when I saw Michelle today I was completely surprised, since not only is she super tall and athletic, but also super pretty. Actually, not just pretty, she's gorgeous. I was like, "dudes, this is completely not fair. She got all the good genes."

She's the complete opposite of me when I was her age. I'm not sure how old she is, but I'm guessing she's around 15/16, and when I was that age I had braces, wore dorky glasses, was never tanned and had annoying hair. Michelle is the complete opposite, and I can't understand how someone who's suppose to be going through their dorky phase could look so good. In any case, I'm actually glad to be related to someone so pretty so I can look good by association. (My other cousin from Vancouver is Nicole, who's ten and follows Matt around because she thinks he's cool.)

Anyway, so today I realized I have a hidden talent that's not a talent at all. At one point, someone asked me to show them how to curl hair with a hair straightener, since I use to do this often with my own hair (before I chopped it off) and Annabelle's hair. My cousin Danielle whipped out her hair straightener, and before I knew it, I was curling everyone's hair. And somehow I begun painting everyone's nails, since they know I have a nail polish addiction.

Basically, while everyone was congratulating Annabelle on getting accepted to Pharmacy school, they were congratulating me on my hair curling/nail polish-ing skills. I hope this is not an omen for the future.

Today there was also some random guy at the family get together from my parents church. He reminds me a lot of Clement because he's constantly bouncing off the walls and blends in well with the little kids even though he's almost 30. I heard my grandma whispering with someone else about matching us up and I was like, "nooo not another Yunchi!"

I think they're just bored since everyone else in that church is getting engaged, so they want to see who else they can hook up. So far no luck, still haven't found Mr. M.

Colin also gave me this book called 'Dork Diaries' and wrote a funny note in the front where he spelt my name right! It's MAR-JO-RIE. You guys would be surprised how often people misspell my name and say pronounce it incorrectly.

So thanks Colin! I think I'm going to enjoy reading this book. It comes complete with doodles, which is convenient since I've been secretly doodling lately and have been meaning to post them up here. I still have to show you guys what Pou-Pou looks like. =D

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How to Write a Sentence

The other week in the not-so-interesting life of retail, someone lost Stanley Fish's book, 'How to Write a Sentence.' Since I work at the multi-talented department of the store, the book landed in my department since we also happen to be the lost and found.

By the way, working in lost and found department makes me scratch my head in wonder at the kind of stuff people loose and never claim. There are things like blackberries and ipods, to car keys, house keys, jewelry, purses, wallets, underwear, glasses, soiled baby milk bottles, birthday presents, the New Testament translated into Hebrew, etc.

By far, besides the NT Hebrew Bible, the most interesting thing I've come across is this book. When I saw it lying there in the lost and found drawer, I squealed in delight and said, "it's Stanley Fish!"

Who Stanley Fish is: Stanley Fish, according to my professor, is the highest paid literary critic. When he apparently came to U of T as a guest lecturer, my professor was impressed by his ability to give such a long response to a question that he managed to answer the question without actually answering it, thus avoiding answering questions he doesn't know the answer to. He's super clever and has reflected his life's work on Milton.

Seeing as how I'm the only overtly excited English Major at work, I instantly grabbed the book and begun reading it, hoping that whoever lost it wouldn't come and claim the book. Whoever it was that lost this book must appreciate a good sentence as much as I do, and is probably very devastated that they lost this book, but their loss is my gain.

I waited a couple of weeks, and just as we were about to empty the lost and found and donate the items, I claimed the book and took it home. So, question is, how do you write a sentence?

In the past two weeks, I've been teaching the kids different kinds of sentence structures, and now you guys are lucky enough to hear the short version of my fascinating lectures, hurrah!

Just like pokemon's, sentences start off simply. There's the Simple Sentence:

I like cheese.

Which has one subject and one verb and is a complete thought, which is also known as an independent clause.

Simple Sentence can evolve into Compound Sentences with the help of Coordinating Conjunctions:

I like cheese, so I ate cheese.

Which has two verbs and two subjects and two complete thoughts.

But then sometimes, Simple Sentences and Compound Sentences can evolve into awesome Complex Sentences, with the help of Subordinating Conjunctions:

Although there are different kinds of cheese, I will not bear prejudice towards any and like them equally.

Ok you guys get the point, sentences are cool and awesome. As you can see, anyone can write a sentence, but writing a sentence that takes people's breath away is a different story. Have you guys ever seen a sentence where you had to do a double take and re-read it, just because there was something more than words to the sentence?

"They are subjects or objects or actions or descriptives or indications of manner, and as such they combine into a statement about the world, that is, into meaning that one can contemplate, admire, reject, or refine."

-Fish

Personally, I like collecting sentences in my head, which is counterproductive since I forget them, so I'm trying to get into the habit of taking note of them in my blackberry. Some notable sentences from authors that I've collected:

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense."

-Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone

"Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendia was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice."

-One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez

"One day, as Cunegonde was walking the grounds of the castle, in the little wood which everyone called the park, she caught sight through the undergrowth of Doctor Pangloss giving a lesson in experimental physics to her mother's chambermaid, a very pretty and tractable little brunette. Mademoiselle Cunegonde had a natural aptitude for the sciences, and she noted breathlessly the repeated experiments to which she was witness; she saw clearly the doctor's sufficient reason, both the effects and causes, and she returned home very agitated, very thoughtful, and very much filled with desire to be a scientist, reflecting that she might yet prove to be the sufficient reason of young Candide, who might turn prove to be hers."

-Candide/Optimism, Voltaire

"Such was the death of that imaginative gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha, whose native place the author has not thought fit directly to mention, with the intention that all the town and villages in La Mancha should vie with one another for the honour of giving him birth as the seven cities of Greece did for Homer."

-Don Quixote, Cervantes

(p.s. sorry for the nerdy post, the reason I'm publishing this days after I wrote it is because I had to wrestle with myself to publish this because it seemed too nerdy. I will dedicate this post to Ariel, since she's the only other person I know who's excited to read Fish's book.)

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Wayne

Usually in the mornings, I hitch a ride with my mom and sister when they leave the house around 7:15, which means I'm an hour early for class most of the time. Sometimes, what ends up happening is that I walk Annabelle to SickKids, where she's doing research for the summer, in order to waste time.

Last week as we were walking, I spotted a homeless man sitting on the edge of the sidewalk reading a book. I usually don't like to stare at homeless people since I consider it rude, but I was curious to see what he was reading, and as we got closer, I realized he was reading the bible.

This morning, instead of walking to SickKids, Annabelle and I sat around Tim Hortons and she told me how she begun a conversation with the same homeless man. Turns out that his name is Wayne, and that he moved to Toronto from the East Coast. When he arrived in Toronto, he found himself in bad company and ended up on the streets. After a while, someone preached the gospel to him and turned his life around. He got saved and joined their church.

He lives in an apartment with his wife/girlfriend (this information was a little vague) and their little son, whose picture he tucks in his bible for safe keeping. Wayne loves his son and would do anything for him, so it astounds him just how painful it must have been for God to have to give up his son for us. Wayne was apparently really passionate when he talked, and was very knowledgeable about the bible (seeing as how he reads it everyday), but the part about his story that got to me is that every Wednesday, he would help his church hand out food to the homeless.

The irony of it just astounds me. Here we have a homeless man begging on the streets everyday to give his son something to eat, and he himself goes out to give food to other homeless people. Doesn't this just boggle your mind? It just makes me think and re-evaluate what I've been doing with my time.

Here I am, not homeless, but when was the last time I used my time to give to others in who are in need? But someone like Wayne, who has nothing but pure love for his son and God, just automatically gives his time, which is crucial and essential to him, to help others who has nothing as well.

Hopefully, we won't have to loose everything first like Wayne, in order to begin helping others. Hopefully we can learn to give now.

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Hamsters, Last Names and a Rabbit

Today I realized that whenever I'm tired, I start comparing people to hamsters. I've been busy doing stuff lately, so I've been super pooped and lacking some serious sleep.

I was over at my grandparents house tonight for dinner, as is my weekly ritual, when I thought out loud: "Ama is like a cute hamster." Ama is what I call my grandma, so I was basically saying that I thought my grandma looked like a hamster. When I thought of why I said this, and why I would even make a comparison between my grandma and a hamster, I realized that I do this a lot when I'm tired.

I guess the next time I compare you to a hamster you should take it as a compliment, since hamsters are basically the embodiment of the word cute itself to me. I used to have a lot of hamsters, but they kept on dying, so I swore to never own a hamster ever again and bought a rabbit instead.

Anyway, so since I'm taking a Chinese Culture and Society class for the summer, I've taken it up on myself to investigate my origins. I interviewed my grandparents tonight and asked them a ton of questions they didn't know how to answer, but I was just mainly curious about how my great grandparents decided to move to the Philippines.

A few posts ago, I mentioned that I didn't know where my grandma was born. Turns out, she was born in Philippines and that my great-grandparents moved there when the Communist Party begun their regime. According to my grandparents, at that time a lot of people from China moved to other countries for the same reason, such as Singapore, Malaysia, Philippines, and as in the case of my one friend, Pakistan. I'm guessing they just chose the Philippines as some random luck of the draw.

In Philippines though, like Manila where I was born, they teach you Mandarin in school but most of the Chinese people speak Fukien so I'm curious as how this happened. Is it just because most of the people who migrated to the Philippines were from the same province? I would think so but Wikipedia is not giving me awesome answers.

I'm encouraging my grandparents to write down everything they know and make a mini autobiography. Or maybe I can write it for them. I just want to collect everyone's last names and see if I can trace it back to relatives I might possibly have in China. (Like my great-grandparents last names are Ko, Lim, Dy/Go Seng and Chua.)

Admittedly, this Chinese Cultural and Society class is a bit depressing at times just because the path China took to where it is now is depressing (or maybe I'm just reading all the wrong stories).

Two pictures:

Drew, the last hamster I owned before I vowed to never torture another hamster again by being it's owner, in a shoe: