I know, it's like a month away, but everyone's getting ready for Christmas already...Currently, I'm watching "The Polar Express," one of the many movies I watch every year around this time. I was thinking today that I should start early, since I usually don't get around to watching them every year.
Anyway, I was just thinking about how people make a big deal out of the holidays, how consumerism is the main focus of the winter days, and not about being with those you love, celebrating the birth of Jesus (for some. Which include me), and having fun.
I must admit that I am guilty of this, I've been thinking of what to buy for my family. Hopefully my sister doesn't read this particular blog post, because I'm going to tell you guys about what I've been thinking.
Every year, I buy living gifts for my family. Living gifts, if you don't know what they are, are either animals, plants, learning opportunities, and so on for those that live in developing countries. I've gone with Food for the Hungry for the past couple years, and I like the gifts that are available through them, as there are a lot of selection, and they're all reasonably priced.
This year, however, I think I want to actually buy something for my sister. And there's one thing in particular that I want to get, but the only way to get it is to go online and buy it, for a reasonable price anyway. I don't personally own a credit card, so I'd have to ask my mom or dad to borrow theirs, and pay them back. I've been thinking of getting my own credit card, but I honestly don't want to: I don't mind paying for things in cash and debit as far as I'm concerned. But for buying things online, it's more difficult: I need a credit card, unless I have Interact, or whatever it's called.
Well, that's about it. I might edit this post to add more if I think of something, but yeah. I might also have more Xmas posts in the near future, so we'll see.
Love for now.
Saturday 24 November 2012
Wednesday 21 November 2012
University Fire Alarms
You know how fire drills and the procedures that come with them are instilled in us ever since elementary school? Those rainy or snowy cold days, or those disgustingly hot days standing out in the field, whenever that dreaded or desired alarm goes off...We wait until the fire truck and the fire fighters come along and makes sure it's all clear, and give us the OK to head back inside. The drills continue on into high school. I remember hating high school drills, just because they usually happened on the worst of days: really cold, raining or snowing. Seriously. It happened. A lot.
But ever since I started university I noticed something...No prof ever stops his or her lecture for a fire alarm. Ever. Never ever.
It's kind of funny actually: you hear the shrilling of those red bells go off outside the lecture hall, all the students take notice, including you, and you turn to look towards the door, but the professor continues to talk. He doesn't care, he just wants to finish the lecture he started and be on his way.
All I'm thinking when an alarm goes off is, "Is there actually a fire somewhere?" And then, "If there is a fire somewhere, and the professor continues to talk, how would we know to evacuate or not?" I continue to think of scenarios of what would happen. "Does our school have a PA system? Would they announce it across campus? Would they send runners to every single lecture hall on campus to let us know that there is a fire in one of the buildings? Where would we go?...I HAVEN'T LEARNED THE FIRE DRILL PROCEDURES FOR THIS PLACE!!!"
I know, ridiculous, but welcome to my brain.
Love.
But ever since I started university I noticed something...No prof ever stops his or her lecture for a fire alarm. Ever. Never ever.
It's kind of funny actually: you hear the shrilling of those red bells go off outside the lecture hall, all the students take notice, including you, and you turn to look towards the door, but the professor continues to talk. He doesn't care, he just wants to finish the lecture he started and be on his way.
All I'm thinking when an alarm goes off is, "Is there actually a fire somewhere?" And then, "If there is a fire somewhere, and the professor continues to talk, how would we know to evacuate or not?" I continue to think of scenarios of what would happen. "Does our school have a PA system? Would they announce it across campus? Would they send runners to every single lecture hall on campus to let us know that there is a fire in one of the buildings? Where would we go?...I HAVEN'T LEARNED THE FIRE DRILL PROCEDURES FOR THIS PLACE!!!"
I know, ridiculous, but welcome to my brain.
Love.
Tuesday 20 November 2012
Dreams
You know how, when you're young, you have dreams of becoming various different people? Like, you see a cowboy on TV, and you say, "Hey, that looks like fun! I want to be a cowboy!" Or you watch a movie, and say, "She's beautiful, I'm going to be a princess." When you're a kid, anything is possible.
But then you grow up. And that's when things start to change.
You realize that some things can only be dreams; they won't become a reality.
And that sucks.
I know I've had dreams of working in many different professions, starting at a teacher when I was in kindergarten, then learning that being a teacher would suck. From then I learned of jobs that could get me good money from my parents, like an accountant, an architect. Our family went to SeaWorld in San Diego a few years ago and that's when my sister and I decided to become animal trainers, haha...Needless to say, that hasn't happened yet.
Even now, I really want to become a singer, like Kelly Clarkson or a bunch of YouTubers I'm subscribed to. I often dream of starring in a movie, on TV or on the big screen. It's weird, but sometimes I make up a new role in a movie and insert myself in it, figuring out where I would make my first appearance, and so on. I love daydreaming about these kinds of things. And I'd love for them to be a reality.
The problem with my dreams, though, is that I don't chase them. I end up chickening out, my bravery fizzling out, not knowing where to start. I see all of these singers and actors, and think, "They make it look so easy."
I also realize that these celebrities we hold in high esteem have a certain look to them: usually skinny, tall, beautiful, handsome...and white or partially white. (And by "white," I mean Caucasian.)
I am not Canadian, ethnically. Culturally, I consider myself to be Canadian. My parents are Korean, and that is my background, but I was born and raised in Canada: I am Canadian. That's how I identify myself. But no one else sees it like that, except for my family and closer friends.
I feel that, because of my ethnicity, going out to an audition wouldn't be worth it, because I know I wouldn't get any farther than that, the audition.
Of course, I know that most celebrities don't hit fame instantly, but it looks that way. They have the look, they have the talent, they know the right people.
That's usually what it takes to make it big, isn't it?
Let me know in the comments what your dreams of the past and of the present are. I look forward to reading them.
Love.
But then you grow up. And that's when things start to change.
You realize that some things can only be dreams; they won't become a reality.
And that sucks.
I know I've had dreams of working in many different professions, starting at a teacher when I was in kindergarten, then learning that being a teacher would suck. From then I learned of jobs that could get me good money from my parents, like an accountant, an architect. Our family went to SeaWorld in San Diego a few years ago and that's when my sister and I decided to become animal trainers, haha...Needless to say, that hasn't happened yet.
Even now, I really want to become a singer, like Kelly Clarkson or a bunch of YouTubers I'm subscribed to. I often dream of starring in a movie, on TV or on the big screen. It's weird, but sometimes I make up a new role in a movie and insert myself in it, figuring out where I would make my first appearance, and so on. I love daydreaming about these kinds of things. And I'd love for them to be a reality.
The problem with my dreams, though, is that I don't chase them. I end up chickening out, my bravery fizzling out, not knowing where to start. I see all of these singers and actors, and think, "They make it look so easy."
I also realize that these celebrities we hold in high esteem have a certain look to them: usually skinny, tall, beautiful, handsome...and white or partially white. (And by "white," I mean Caucasian.)
I am not Canadian, ethnically. Culturally, I consider myself to be Canadian. My parents are Korean, and that is my background, but I was born and raised in Canada: I am Canadian. That's how I identify myself. But no one else sees it like that, except for my family and closer friends.
I feel that, because of my ethnicity, going out to an audition wouldn't be worth it, because I know I wouldn't get any farther than that, the audition.
Of course, I know that most celebrities don't hit fame instantly, but it looks that way. They have the look, they have the talent, they know the right people.
That's usually what it takes to make it big, isn't it?
Let me know in the comments what your dreams of the past and of the present are. I look forward to reading them.
Love.
Sunday 18 November 2012
Another accident
Two blog posts in one day. Must be a record.
But, I needed to vent, and my journal's too far away: I'm lazy, as well all have already noted.
I put a dent into someone's car yesterday, backing out of the driveway. Problem is, we didn't change information, I didn't tell my parents, and it's phone tag between my mom and the girl who's car I dented thus far.
I honestly didn't think this would be a big deal...But apparently it is.
Another problem: I don't think either of us have ever been put into this kind of situation, so she didn't know what to do and I didn't know what to do. So that's why we didn't exchange information. At least, I'm hoping this is the reason.
Now I feel terrible, because my parents are disappointed in me, again, which sucks because I'm Asian and Asian disappointment is like an invisible slap in the face. Or a round-house kick, whichever you think is worse. I think either, because I've only ever been spanked as a child, and I'm sure it would hurt like a mofo.
I didn't start crying until I buckled down and began reading my Statistics textbook, which I hoped wouldn't happen...the crying part, not the reading my textbook part. It's good that I'm reading, because I'm about 10 chapters behind; the course is boring as hell. I'm digressing: I'm freaking out once again, checking my bank account for money that isn't going to appear any time soon (or so it seems: I'm waiting for money from StudentAid BC to come in, which hasn't so far), going on Facebook and trying to figure out anything about the person who says she owns the car (she's a friend of the neighbour's, which is awkward), and now this.
In all honesty, I was hoping she wouldn't contact me, so I wouldn't have to worry about it. But now, hah, I have to worry about it. I guess she talked to her parents too, to figure out what to do, and now she is going to have to talk to my parents because I don't own any of the cars that we drive.
Sometimes I wish I had my own car, just so I could take responsibility for the accidents I've been in already, but the likelihood of that happening anytime soon is below zero.
I've also thought about not driving for a year or so, and getting my full license in two years instead of getting it this year (because, technically, I could book an appointment now for my full license exam).
OK, I had to go for half an hour or so: my mom just explained to me what happens when I get into an accident and what I need to do. It all makes sense, and now I know what to do...I just need to remember it all.
Basically, it all just boils down to calling 911 (if me or other person(s) involved is injured), getting the other person's information (driver's license number, model and make of the car, and telephone number), giving my information to the other person, and calling the insurance company. Simple enough, right? I should hope so.
Anyway, I'm out for the night. Hopefully I'll finish the chapter to my Statistics book...
Love.
But, I needed to vent, and my journal's too far away: I'm lazy, as well all have already noted.
I put a dent into someone's car yesterday, backing out of the driveway. Problem is, we didn't change information, I didn't tell my parents, and it's phone tag between my mom and the girl who's car I dented thus far.
I honestly didn't think this would be a big deal...But apparently it is.
Another problem: I don't think either of us have ever been put into this kind of situation, so she didn't know what to do and I didn't know what to do. So that's why we didn't exchange information. At least, I'm hoping this is the reason.
Now I feel terrible, because my parents are disappointed in me, again, which sucks because I'm Asian and Asian disappointment is like an invisible slap in the face. Or a round-house kick, whichever you think is worse. I think either, because I've only ever been spanked as a child, and I'm sure it would hurt like a mofo.
I didn't start crying until I buckled down and began reading my Statistics textbook, which I hoped wouldn't happen...the crying part, not the reading my textbook part. It's good that I'm reading, because I'm about 10 chapters behind; the course is boring as hell. I'm digressing: I'm freaking out once again, checking my bank account for money that isn't going to appear any time soon (or so it seems: I'm waiting for money from StudentAid BC to come in, which hasn't so far), going on Facebook and trying to figure out anything about the person who says she owns the car (she's a friend of the neighbour's, which is awkward), and now this.
In all honesty, I was hoping she wouldn't contact me, so I wouldn't have to worry about it. But now, hah, I have to worry about it. I guess she talked to her parents too, to figure out what to do, and now she is going to have to talk to my parents because I don't own any of the cars that we drive.
Sometimes I wish I had my own car, just so I could take responsibility for the accidents I've been in already, but the likelihood of that happening anytime soon is below zero.
I've also thought about not driving for a year or so, and getting my full license in two years instead of getting it this year (because, technically, I could book an appointment now for my full license exam).
OK, I had to go for half an hour or so: my mom just explained to me what happens when I get into an accident and what I need to do. It all makes sense, and now I know what to do...I just need to remember it all.
Basically, it all just boils down to calling 911 (if me or other person(s) involved is injured), getting the other person's information (driver's license number, model and make of the car, and telephone number), giving my information to the other person, and calling the insurance company. Simple enough, right? I should hope so.
Anyway, I'm out for the night. Hopefully I'll finish the chapter to my Statistics book...
Love.
Colour
It's been a while.
So, in church, my pastor said something about how "colour" etc doesn't matter in the eyes of God. Which is true (for all those who don't think this way), but for some reason, his use of the word "colour" really bothered me.
Why couldn't he use the word "race" or "ethnic background"? Because I don't think he wanted to alienate people with "colour" in their skin, and yet he did anyway, because I felt alienated.
Also, the word "colour" means something other than a shade (white, grey, black), even though we consider black people coloured. So, basically, he's talking about everyone else other than white people? Which basically means his referring to "colour"ed people are brown and yellow, right? Red people? Purple people? Ugh, this is a weird subject.
This probably crosses a line somewhere, and I'm sorry if you find offence to this. But this is my blog, and I needed to write something about it.
Please let me know what you think in a comment down below.
So, in church, my pastor said something about how "colour" etc doesn't matter in the eyes of God. Which is true (for all those who don't think this way), but for some reason, his use of the word "colour" really bothered me.
Why couldn't he use the word "race" or "ethnic background"? Because I don't think he wanted to alienate people with "colour" in their skin, and yet he did anyway, because I felt alienated.
Also, the word "colour" means something other than a shade (white, grey, black), even though we consider black people coloured. So, basically, he's talking about everyone else other than white people? Which basically means his referring to "colour"ed people are brown and yellow, right? Red people? Purple people? Ugh, this is a weird subject.
This probably crosses a line somewhere, and I'm sorry if you find offence to this. But this is my blog, and I needed to write something about it.
Please let me know what you think in a comment down below.
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