Mardy Bum

Arctic Monkey’s Mardy Bum.

I’ve got a soft spot for British Indie Rock. But you already knew that. (Right?)

Love the guitar work and vocals. Looking forward to a copy of the CD.

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That loaded gun

Penultimate Weekend Of Summer

The second last weekend of summer was a busy one. Took the E36 in for new tie rods, sway bar bushings and an alignment. Rather than take the Skytrain to Main from Waterfront, I decided to walk along the Seawall instead. And it was worth it because I came across this.

One correction on my behalf. The people who make up the heart of this city suck.

aces went to Portland for a week with Teoh and although I protested her getting me something, she always ends up doing so with this.

Very fun and thoughtful. =)

And of course, I am a glutton for punishment. Alphamale and I grinded up SFU once again. I beat my previous time by 4 minutes and learned how to focus my muscle groups on hill climbs while making the most out of my upstroke.

Chillin’ @ University & Gaglardi.

And look who was relaxin’ at the supermarket on some bananas?

There was no muffuletta and whole grain bread today.

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Annoying Chihuahuas

Back to the Crunch

Last week’s uphill battle against SFU / Burnaby Mountain. Add insult to injury – Saturday’s ride consisted of 3 laps around Stanley Park.

Life’s Lesson – Don’t give up and keep pushing. No matter how steep the hill is.

My first ever White Spot Pirate Pack. I got the portobello veggie burger. It kicks ass.

Vespa photo @ Ikea. I miss mine, actually.

BC Lions vs. Saskatchewan Rough Riders

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The Monday Blues

A REAL Martini

Why I insist that a real martini is composed of gin and should be stirred. None of this silly vodka and shaken madness.

If renowned bartender/mixologist Charlotte Voisey can’t convince you with her good looks and accent, you’ve got a serious problem.

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Mr. James Bond

My 10 Year High School Reunion

I would to start off this post on a positive note. And that is, I quite enjoyed my time at the reunion. It was great to see old faces (and some new) and to catch up with some people. I would like to extend my gratitude to my fellow classmates, Tiffany, Irene, and Jen for organizing the event and putting it all together. Something of this caliber is never easy and I would say they did an excellent job in gathering a rather large crowd given the size of our grad class. They worked extremely hard and deserve a shout out despite my readership. Despite the following rant, I am by no means slagging them for their efforts. I wholeheartedly and genuinely am appreciative for their time and dedication.

But this is where it gets ugly. I have been, for quite some time, rather quiet and have kept to myself partially because I am now older, wiser and more mature. I’ve toned down my anger and frustration at the world but it is rather unfortunate this sole event has sparked the inner anger in me. This reunion has cracked me. And let me cut to the case.

Fast forward 10 years later, I came back to the same shit show from when we were in high school.

I lived 10 years of my life only to come back and experience a deja vu? Given that 10 years have gone by while putting into consideration the social and economic factors which have shaped our lives, I left the reunion extremely disappointed. Disappointed in my expectations of the people I spent 5 years of my teenage life with only to see that they have not gone anywhere in their lives and/or have not done anything with their lives. Now if you will excuse me, I will elaborate on that.

I notice there were two types of people, and this observation is strictly with the people I went to high school with:

1. The group where people have not changed one bit. Mostly due in part because of their shitty personalities that make up who they are and for that, I don’t give a fuck about them.

2. Those who are more or less the same but have matured in their own way, be it through educational, personal, and/or professional experiences. These people have a good story to share.

Let’s start with the first group.

These are the people who never mattered to me in the first place. Who still do not. And never will whatsoever. These people either made my life a living hell throughout high school or simply did not matter to me in some way or form, be it because we were just too different or they never spoke to me. And taking a page from my graduation year book, “In 5 years, bcrdukes will still hate you openly and without regret.” And this is particularly true because these people had little to no positive impact on my life. I feel that these people have been a waste of social, economical, and environmental resources. I wasted my time and effort on these people unfortunately.

And then there’s the second group.

Sadly, there were far and few of these people and I wished that there was more of them. I had a small handful of engaging conversations with these people, particularly with Lauren, one of the few I’ve known since kindergarten. I came to the reunion expecting to hear stories from people whom I had grown up with and to learn about their experience since our graduation. I really wished that I had more time with these people but unfortunately, life dictates the window of opportunity and how much you can extract out of it. More so, I particularly do not like sharing my personal life with people. I find that I am extremely boring and overall uninteresting. I am more interested in the the lives of my former classmates who have a good story to tell and are able to share with me their journey through the struggle of life, 10 years after graduation. Sadly, only a few delivered.

Thus my disappointment and frustration. Extremely unsatisfied with the outcome of these people and the failure to meet my expectations. I always like a good story. But so few were able to tell me one. The usual riff raff is all talk but no substance. And if you already know me well enough, I’m not interested in talk. I enjoy substance. The meat and bones, the nitty gritty – the recipe which makes life so much more interesting and worth living.

But this reunion was an extreme insult to me. The complete opposite of what I would define as a successul group of individuals molded to fit into what we call “society.” I am no angel nor was I ever the brightest student but for crying out loud, all those go-getters and geeks and freaks failed to deliver in every way. I would like to send you all a big “Fuck You!” letter in the mail with my name written on it using a bright red pen. It would actually make me feel so much better if you framed it and put it up on your wall as a reminder of your failure to entertain me.

Most would say that 10 years is a long time, and yes, it is. In the short run anyway. But when you look at the bigger picture, it isn’t. Everything felt like it was just yesterday. It felt almost like nothing had changed except that we grew older, wiser (and I’m being extremely generous here) and for some, even fatter. I am extremely pissed off at some of the people who even dared show up at the reunion. Some of these people had absolutely no right in doing so. And for that, you too also deserve a big FUCK YOU letter sent to your house. And I’m not talking about peoples’ spouses.

The riff raff of our grad class is what frustrates me the most. I can’t help but sit here and question myself how these people even managed to get so far in life (or rather, did not.) I don’t care for their story nor do I care about these people. I was content and rather happy with not knowing about them and have no desire to ever know. I was happy with the fact that these people were out of my life. Until this reunion.

The insult to my injury (this reunion) is that I was convinced I had moved on in life. That I had bigger and better things to live for (and yes, this is true) but these people just had to enter my life again to frustrate me beyond any sort of logic and form. I did not care for these people and could barely give a fuck as to what they were doing or how they were doing. They made no difference to me before so why should they now? But this is what kills me. I went to this shit show. It is nobody’s fault but my own. Maybe I am living a lie. Maybe deep down inside, I care and I want to know how they are doing. Maybe I want to reconcile and be friends with these people. And this is where I am left confused. Frustrated. These people are no different than they were before. So why should I give a fuck?

But perhaps this is a lesson in life. Some sort of guide to recognizing your saints. A lesson in how you find out who your real friends are, what separates them from the rest and what it is about them that is so dear to you. I am proud of the fact that some of my friends have fared well, particularly the ones I managed to rile a conversation out of. I am extremely proud of their achievements and milestones in life and extremely happy for them. These people have made my life so much easier in putting the puzzle together and have given me the peace of mind and assurance that in 10 years time, people do in fact change for the better and that we do grow up.

Despite my convoluted rant, the older, more mature and (God forbid) wiser “me” feels a need to chime in. Perhaps my expectations were unrealistic. My demands were unreasonable. My approach and calculations to life were wrong. Who am I to judge what these people should have done or where they should be in life? I don’t know their story and I never bothered to find out. And for that, it is not fair for me to judge and to draw to any conclusion. I am no better than they are in any way and/or form. I am in no way farther ahead in life than they are. I almost feel as if I am in fact the biggest failure of my graduating class. These people have chosen to live their lives the way they wanted to. I have no right to tell them what to do or how they should live. People make their own decisions. They are the masters of their own domain. And for that, I have to swallow my own guilt, hypocrisy and embarrassment in shame.

And for this, I learned something from this event. My oldest, dearest, and life-long friend Tiffany deserves a big “thank you” because she made the extra effort and asked me to come. Her, Irene and Jen gave me the push I needed to come to the reunion. And what is it that I learned? That there is no empirical formula to life and there should never be. There are so many more answers to this puzzle we call life and unfortunately, it is a never ending game. I suppose the biggest lesson in all of this is to cherish those who you hold dear and be happy for them. I’ve learned that being happy and enjoying the presence of your friends is much more rewarding than having to ignore the outcasts of society and those who mean little or nothing to you.

But I may be wrong and this is where I need to leave off in my rant. And the only way to find out is to look forward to our 20 year reunion.

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Grad Class of 2002’s 20 Year Reunion