Aging Balloon Blower

You know I always, always had this fear that I am never ever able to tie up balloons after they are blown up.

Everytime I have been asked to help blow up balloons – be it at some school function, club function, church function, work function – I always freak out and attempt to walk away silently so I can shrug off my responsibilities there, because I just don’t know how to tie them up!

But tonight.  TONIGHT.

I finally conquered the fear, only after tying up 126 balloons.

Now my fingers are a bit dead.

In other news, Christmas time has started becoming a scary time for me since about two years ago, because it reminds me that my birthday is only 1 month away.  Which means I am getting older again.

Which means I am actually turning 24.

24 is a weird age.

It’s the clear-cut line you pass where you no longer exist as a youth anymore.

I think I am called to singleness.  I mean I am 24.  I am sure that’s my calling now.

Which is great.  I have already started getting in touch with the Southsiders and making sure I have no commitments during weekends next year so I can be an actual Whitecaps supporter.

Those are things you’ve gotta enjoy when you’re a single guy.

After doing things at church every weekend for the past 3-4 years, I am finally calling it quits.

What a day!

What a day!  What a day!

Where do I even begin!

So last night, on the 23rd, we had a mini-Halifax Project ‘07 (and ‘08) reunion, where I got the chance to see my one and only Brazilian friend again.

There’s something about them Brazilians.  Be it their futebol, their music, their samba……they’re just that bit sexier.

Anyways.

The dinner was at Cambie and King Edward, and if you know Cambie you’d know that anywhere on that fricking road is a big bloody mess.  So I decided that I would just park my car in some office building parking lot across from the restaurant, where it was nice and warm and underground.  And after the dinner was over, I went back to the parking lot.

Closed.

It was closed.  Gates and everything.

I had no access to the car.

We are talking about the 2-week old Rabbit here.

Locked up in this evil stranger’s nest.

Sickening.

So I cried myself home on the bus.  It was good that at least I had Johnson accompanying me.

I then decided that I would go back to the parking lot first thing the next morning, on the day of Christmas Eve, to see if I can pick up the car before anyone tows it away or anything.

So I went to bed around midnight, got up at 5AM, and took the 5:36AM B-Line, made a transfer, and got there around 6:30AM.

Still locked up.  I waited in the cold until 7AM: no luck.

So I thought bleh, I had to work at 8AM in downtown, so I just bused down. It was snowing and snowing and snowing.  I was getting more and more worried.

A coworker was telling us how it took her 2 hours just to get from Surrey to downtown, because the Skytrain she was on was stuck for an hour.

Nasty, nasty weather.  The transit here is simply not prepared for such conditions.  We are noobs, really.

So the boss at work let us off half an hour early (how nice of him), so I rushed to the B-Line station, only to see the Chinese bus driver (albeit a white-washed one) yell at this Chinese couple who took forever to put money into the box on the bus.

Man, I felt so guilty. It’s like we think we have every right to treat our own race in the worst manner.  I can’t picture him yelling at, say, a white couple like that.

Anyways, turns out the driver was also a real wimp!  When we got to Granville and 5th, he just stopped along the side of the road and said we were going to sit there for hours to wait for the snow-removal/salt trucks to arrive to clear the hilly roads for us……while at the same time we watched all the other buses drive by us, giving their best shot at conquering the hills.

People started complaining, and talking amongst each other.  The bus driver started getting all riled up and shouting back at some of the more vocal passengers.  It was like a scene taken from some movie like Speed.  It was really a big gong show.  It felt a bit like it was Armageddon or something, the way some people were reacting.  What a bloody mess eh!

So a good load of us got off, ran onto another B-Line, which turned out to have a woman bus driver who was courageous as heck and really entertaining.  She kept updating us via the mic and the whole bus cheered when she successfully conquered the steepest hill on Granville and 16th.  What a day.

This Filipino lady behind me kept shouting “Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord!”.  It was a nice touch.

Turns out at the bus stop on King Edward, one of the people waiting was actually the relief bus driver for the next 25.  He started telling us all about the horrible stories he had gathered about the crazies in the crazy weather.  The people he almost hit, the routes that were the most difficult, the millions of buses that got stuck, etc., etc.

It’s strange, ain’t it.  The messiness of this whole thing really brings people together!  Or maybe it’s the Christmas spirit.  But I can’t say I have ever seen so many strangers gather to converse with each other; not here in Vancouver.

So, long story short: by 3:30PM I finally got to the parking lot that I had lost my car in, about 20 hours after I had left him there.  All alone by himself on Christmas Eve.

I ran off the bus, and ran into the parking lot.

I still can’t get the image out of my head: the way the Rabbit smiled at me the very moment I saw him right there safely in the same spot I had left him, totally unscathed.

I gave him a big hug, comforted him, told him everything was alright.

And he helped me to connect with him on a level I had never been to: I just realized how much easier it is to sense the clutch when I just leave my heel on the floor.  Somehow that had never occurred to me before.  How stupid.

So that’s that.  A long arse day that started from 5AM and didn’t end until I got home around 5PM, when I still had to shovel snow with my cousin in order to open up a path for the car to get into my garage.

Anyhow, Merry Christmas to you all!  It was a great day.

I love Vancouver: the people, the food, the places, and even the sucky, sucky public transit.

Man, does it suck.

Snowed in

For the past couple of days, I have been seeing a lot of “I’m snowed in” status updates on Facebook and I thought to myself, “What a buncha wimps!  It’s not like we are in Winnipeg or something!”

So I got inside the Rabbit, and decided to drive out, only to have it stuck in snow for a total of 4, 5 times in the whole of yesterday.  Sad, I know.

But what I found out was how kind some of these Vancouverites are!  I had one stranger who helped to push my car after I got stuck leaving the Starbucks on MacDonald (and 16th, nice little neighborhood there).  Oh and before we leave this topic I have to say, the baristas there at that store were very, *ahem*, friendly, if you know what I mean *wink wink*.

And then, after work at the Ballroom, the accountant suggested that we would make sure we saw each other leave the parking lot okay before we actually left, and somehow I got stuck and he didn’t and so he helped to push my car, yet again.

I was quite touched.

And I wished I could rent a Jeep Wrangler just for the winter.

And I don’t think I did so hot at the Border Services interview.  Oh well.

A tribute to Trevor Linden (not really, more like another girl post)

So after having seen all those images of Vancouverites in their #16 jerseys, and hearing all about how great the tribute to Linden before the Oilers game went , I decided to spend a few moments pondering on the memories I have of this supposedly great inspiring man.

The only memory I have of Trevor isn’t of him on the ice – as you know how I’m like when it comes to hockey – but it was of the fine early morning in the summer of 2003 up at Grouse mountain, where a couple of my friends and I bumped into Trevor Linden and Dan Cloutier (totally coincidental, mind you).

That was by far the best summer of my life (not because of this encounter with Linden though, mind you).  It was the summer right after high school graduation, and right before entering into university. It was by far my whitest summer, where I did a lot of white things (like playing soccer barefoot, going hiking, etc.).

You see, we decided to go up for a hike on the Grouse Grind at 7AM that morning, because one of our friends (who’s actually in med school right now, brilliant gal) had to volunteer at some kiddies centre at 11AM in Richmond on the same day.

And as we finished our hike and headed for the tram to get down the mountain, we saw Trevor Linden and Dan Cloutier in there as well.  Apparently it only took them 30 minutes or so to finish the whole hike.

My friends got their autographs, I observed that Trevor drove a Ford Explorer (how down to earth), and that was that.

But you see, as you could probably have guessed, there’s no way I am going to dedicate a whole blog on some athlete who plays a sport I have no fancy for.

Many times I have explained explicitly that I only like girls who aren’t girly.  And I thought that this was the perfect example of what I mean.  This is important because several of my friends have started questioning my sexual orientation (because of statements like ‘I don’t like girly girls’, ‘I love Beckham’, ‘Banning gay marriage is just dumb’, etc.)

So, look back at that girl I just mentioned.

The girl who had to volunteer at 11AM but was invited by the rest of us to the hike so decided to compromise by getting all of us to hike early in the morning.  That girl.

Now, if you substitute in any regular girl instead, what you would end up getting is “ewww, I hate hiking”, or, “sorry I am busy that day, I have to volunteer at 11AM, have fun though”, or, “awww I am going to be so tired if I went, plus I still have to work after”, or, “we can go another time”.

But no, this girl didn’t act like any regular girly girl.

She analyzed the situation, found her heart’s desire, and made a radical adjustment to her (and our) original plan of action to accomodate for this whole thing.

That’s the sign of a leader.

That’s the sign of a not-so-girly girl.

And that’s the new sexy, baby.

Snowy snowy

So I got up early this morning to run some errands, and then came home and stared out at the white fluffy snow in my backyard.

I walked out, took a few steps around, and felt really tempted to build a nice pretty snowman.

But then I was reminded of how lonely it would be for a single twentysomething guy to be building a snowman with only his grandma in the house, who probably won’t appreciate it much anyway.

And so I just went out and shoveled snow like a real man.

I really should’ve gotten a Ford F-150 instead.

Jennifer Connelly film 1/5

So I went to the theaters to see that new movie with Keanu Reeves and Jennifer Connelly, really as an excuse just to hang out with an old friend and also to see Jennifer Connelly.

And wow, it was by far one of the worst films I have ever seen.  I would even go as far as to rate Snakes on a Plane higher than this piece of crap, I mean at least that film had Samuel L. Jackson in it.

I was quite glad that Jennifer Connelly had a big part in the film, and she was lovely as I expected her to be, but wow……what an absolute piece of junk.

1/5, and the 1 is for casting Jennifer.

Christians second rate?

Why are all things Christian second rate?

Why do Christian bookstores sell the lamest merchandise?

Why do Christians appoint leaders that aren’t really leader-quality?

Why is Christian music always just plain old radio boring rock?

I am sorry Chris Tomlin, but using the same chord progression and arrangement for every song just doesn’t do it anymore.

I remember back in high school, I played in the Richmond High junior soccer team.  And we were really bad.  But we were still really happy whenever we faced Richmond Christians – ’cause they are the worst.

Why are Christians always so second rate?

I’m pissed off.

Again, I bring up the statement my little high school friend told me the other time – “Wow, Mute Math is a really really good band when you consider the fact that they are actually Christians”.

Come on, rise up you talented folks!

I am slightly encouraged now, after having seen the t-shirts the Eastern C4C folks designed.  Finally something that looks reasonably nice, especially when you consider that they are made by Christians.

LOL.

Just the way I am

There’s this……”partying animal” at my workplace, who’s a very nice girl who goes out drinking almost every night and often comes to work with a hangover.  She also says the F word in pretty much every other sentence so it’s been fun conversing with her in the lunchroom.

And so today I told her about my little “Asian flushness” – about how low my tolerance is – and she goes on to say how I’m really just a pussy and need to buff up (in the nicest of ways one could say that about someone else).  I told her “buffing up” has been on my agenda for a while now, as I have been hoping to get 3-4 piercings, 3-4 tattoos, dye my hair neon green, etc.

At that same time our most loved team lead came into the lunchroom.  She’s this lady in her 60’s (or maybe 70’s?), lovely, lovely lady.  And when she heard that, she waited till the girl left and then told me that everything is fine, and that she likes me “just the way I am”.

That really made my day.

Sometimes I forget how great it is to be Ricky Pak.

It’s a fantastic feeling.

World class customer service

Wow, I am really proud of my great customer service skills.

Even with a client that I have barely talked to before, we managed to get so deep into our conversation that the topic of marrying white, blonde women came up.

The client is a older Japanese fella, who was explaining to me in his English with heavy Japanese accent that he considers himself more Canadian than Japanese. I then told him about my own history, and how I am along the same wavelength.

His wife then proceeded to ask me if I would ever consider marrying a Western woman – a blonde woman (she then motions with her hands brushing her imaginary blonde hair, as if it was a shampoo commercial).

I then told the biggest lie of the universe:

“Well, if I find the right person, it wouldn’t really matter what she is.”

I might as well go back to Sunday school.

Awkwardness

I’m gonna have to be honest with you – I do feel very socially awkward in big group settings.

And I am not even talking about really big groups.

I am only talking about groups of 10, 20 people.

I’d much, much prefer hanging out with 3, 4 people max. That’s something I just learned about myself.

Just last night, even.

I mean it’s nothing new, but I guess I just never accepted it.

I think I am quite, quite, quite afraid of making myself vulnerable.

Anyways, while it’s snowing beautiful white snowflakes right now, it WAS bright and sunny earlier today and I took the opportunity to take some photos of the car: