Buddhafied

Being occupied by life

I've been so busy with work, unpacking, cleaning and dealing with my annual depression-like emotions (I swear, every year when it's close to my birthday, I start to get depressed) that I haven't been able to write a decent post at all! I have so many things to type about yet I'm just not in the great mood to do the actual typing... you know, like when you want to go to bed but you just don't want to actually go to bed... is it just me who has that problem?

Anyway, I am still alive and should start to type again later this week. Please check back again later and don't forget about this blog. I promise there will be at least some sexy, arousing, and naked pictures.

Another iPhone game that will take up my life

I can hear my boyfriend screaming "put down that freakin' iPhone, NOW!" when I read this news:

No game captured my imagination when I was growing up like SimCity. Certainly, a part of it was my God complex, but more it was the open-ended nature of a game with few rules that let you build a city. I spent countless hours on my computer playing it, I even spent countless hours on the Super Nintendo playing it when it was ported to that console. Now it’s coming to the iPhone — countless hours will be lost again.

So... I guess I'll be single in about a moth?

Original article from Venture Beat and Kotaku.

Missing the clicks

Cleo was dropped off to Michael for a few days. As tomorrow is our moving day, we have too many little things we have to worry about, and having Cleo walking around in the apartment while we move will just add to the stress.

For those who doesn't know, Cleo used to be my ex Michael's dog. I adopted her from him a few years back. So once in a while, she will go visit Michael and her brother, Joseph the cat.

I didn't realized how much I miss her when she's not around.

As much I dislike it sometimes, my daily routine surrounds around her. I sneak out of bed in the morning when she's still asleep, by the time that I finish shower, I can usually hear her slowly walking towards the bathroom door. Then she will greet me and jump up and down wanting food. I'll feed her, fix my hair and take her out for a short walk before going to work. When I come home, I can always hear her running to the door and sniff me around to make sure I really did go to work and not to some dog cookie convention without her.

After I dropped her off last night, by the time I got home, I missed her already. I found myself trying to find her or call her over just to realize she's not there. I miss that clicking sound she makes when she walks. See, Cleo's nails are generally a bit longer than what we like them to be (she hates her nail being trim, that's why we have to bring her to the vet so they can deal with it. She will scream like a little girl that other dogs in the waiting room will think it's a slaughter house), so when she walks around in the apartment, we can always hear her nails clicking on the ground. As Tyra Bank will say, that's her signature walk.

On top of that, I received a few texts from Michael last night telling me that Cleo got upset and was hiding underneath the piano the entire time. That just broke my heart.

I can't wait when we finish moving and bring Cleo to her new home. I suspect we will have hell to pay when we pick her up.

Magic Egg pt.2

For those who care about what happened to my little egg, here's what it looks like after two weeks.

Pink mug

 
We were having a casual Sunday breakfast this morning. We like to go to this place just a block away from our apartment, in fact, we were there last weekend. It's a very small place owned by an oriental crew. Today, as I ordered my usual hot chocolate, instead of a regular mug, which seemed like everyone in the restaurant were drinking out of (Scott, got a normal white mug, see above!), I got this pink mug covered with hearts and dogs and cats and bugs that flies happily around them... Ehm... may I say, what the heck? Do I have "animal lover" written across my face, or do I look that gay that they think a pink cutesy animal mug is more appropriate for me than a regular colour mug?

I'm going to miss living in the gaybourhood.

PS: this blog entry was typed by Cleo.

Why blog?

I love the work of this guy, xkcd. This one particularly capture my love and hate with the blog world.
 

Getting sick of this

I got a phone call from Mom last night, and once again, I feel like crap. Of course, this is not the first time it happened, nor I will naive enough to think this is the last time. Yet, this really doesn't help me much for getting over my slight depression over the past week or so.

Basically, remember my dilemmawith my flight to Hong Kong early next year? I guess when I mentioned that last time, I left out one key component that I thought it wasn't that important at that moment (proves how stupid I am), my Mom's birthday is on January 21 and Chinese New Year is on the 26th. My friend's wedding is on the 9th, so if I were to take two weeks off (the maximum pay vacation I have) and to attend the wedding, my duration in Hong Kong will be January 8 to January 20.

My mom asked me over the phone whether I have booked my ticket yet. I told her I have not, but probably will do so this week. She then asked me about my time range, I told her what my plan was. She immediately said "so you are not back for the New Year." I responded "No, because I only have two weeks vacation, and to be honest, I only have one day left, so if I were to take the full two weeks, I will have -13 days which will carry on till June 2009 when it get refreshed. Then, she said something I wish she could take back:

"So, your friend is obviously more important than us."

I honestly do not know how to respond to that statement. There are many level to the answer and with my Mom's temperament as well as her EQ, I don't think she could even try to understand my view on this.

I never weigh my friends with my parents. To me, they are completely different type of relationships that are not even on the same field. I need my friends on a day to day basis, they are the people who shaped who I am now; yet my parents are the two persons who have got me to where I am. That being said, my parents were never my rock. As being by myself for most of my life (since a toddler) I never really needed my parents to be there for me emotionally, even at the darkest moments of my life, I will never mention anything to them, because they won't understand nor I want them to worry about me. Does that mean they are less important in my life? Absolutely not.

Will I dare to say that to my mother? If I want hell to come to my life.

I replied to her statement calmly yet surely, "the whole reason for me to come back this time is to visit my friend's wedding. To be honestly, if I have the option, I would rather not come back at all this time." She repeated "so, I was right, your friend is more important than us." She then went on for about 10 minutes of explaining to me how poor of a son that I am for not having the heart to go back to see them, given that they are growing old and there won't be that many opportunities for me to do the right thing.

Far as I remember, for the past three years, despite my huge debt and living off pay cheques by cheques I managed to borrow money each year just to visit them, and I always made sure I visit around late October so I can be there on my Dad's birthday. Each year, it costs me roughly $1,300 for the ticket: on a budget that I couldn't afford, on the fact knowing I can not take any other vacation during the year, on there is not much I like about Hong Kong other than my parents. I still have done so throughout the years, just to see them. Why? Because they are important to me.

Should I say that to my mother? Maybe I should.

I think I am more hurt than angry about this incident. I know I'm not a great son. I'm terrible when it comes to remembering their birthday or fulfilling all the responsibility on Mother's Day and Father's Day. However, I have been getting better with this as I set annoying calendar reminders that pop up every 5 minutes. This year, I even sent flowers on Mother's Day, which was a first ever since she left Canada. It might not be enough, but it's a progress. I also tried to call them at least 3 times a week, which to me is more than enough consider my life really isn't that exciting enough to find topics to talk about. I also know I have not made it back for her birthday for over 4 years, but her birthday happens to land on the most expensive travel time of the year to Hong Kong (let's say hypothetically I were to stay for her birthday this year, it will cost me additional $300 just because I stay for 2 extra days), as well it's the busiest time of the year for me at work. Have I mentioned I do not make a lot of money and I can't afford to take no-pay leaves?

So, once again, the conversation ended at a cold note. I am left to make the decision on whether I should at all go back to Hong Kong. I also know that she will not call me until I take the first step, and even so I will have to take a few more cold conversations and guilt trip until she will sound decent to speak with.

Should I call her tomorrow? I rather not, but I will.

Comfort food

I had to go visit a Chinese mall to pickup some embodied shirts for work this afternoon.

If you don't know what's a Chinese mall is, it's exactly what it sounds like, it's a mall owned by the Chinese community, kind of like a modernized Chinatown but in a mall and usually a lot cleaner. There are quite a few of them in Vancouver, consider there is a huge Chinese community here. For most Chinese immigrants, these type of malls are like a little oasis where they canget import goods and get in touch with their culture again. I generally don't go to the Chinese malls anymore, as I prefer to get all my dosage of Chinese culture during my annual Hong Kong trip, any more will just get me overdose and I will start speaking in funny accents again.

As I was scrolling along the mall and try to stare away from a store full of pink Hello Kitty's I stumbled across the food court and my stomache start to growl.

Now, there are many things I can say I'm not like a native Chinese person, like my iPod consist 98% English songs, like I prefer driving at normal speed than at 30km/hr below the speed limit, and like I rather kiss a brick than to date someone who can't grow a beard (thank god for the high population of beard bearing/five o'clock shadow men, or I'll be known as the Asian who hugs brick buildings), there are two things that even I have to admit that I am more Chinese than an average Canadian: A) I count and do math in Chinese, and B) I need to have rice or else I don't feel like I have eaten a proper meal.

For A, that is just a mother touge thing. Most linguists suggested that people generally use their first acquired language for math. For me, it's a mixture of both English and Chinese. I use Chinese for all the numbers but everything else in English. So, instead of "squareroot of 4 equals to 2", in my head it goes "squareroot of 'seh' equals to 'yi'"... yes, it's quite messed up. It's like that mainly because I learned how to count in Chinese but learned most of the algorithm in English. For B, I simply don't know why. I've been dating non-Asian for many years, and I have been slowly introducing meat and potatos into my system, but when it comes down to food that can hit the spot, there's nothing that can do better than a homemade Chinese meal: simple ingredients but with a good old bowl of fluffy white rice.

Anyway, I ended up getting a barbeque pork and soy sauce chicken over rice, which to me, is the best fastfood on the planet. I took my lunch back to work, showed off to everyone that I have rice and all they've got was gourmet sandwiches with side-salad or whatever fancy feast they have. Then I chewed my chicken leg with bone infront of them. I'm such a carnivore monk.

What's your comfort food?

Apartment for rent

This was posted outside our apartment building yesterday. I guess someone is moving out of this place soon. I wonder whether the new tenants will be as cute as the old ones.