Grey and dreary. Rain drizzling down. Thoughts of weddings that were, will be, could have been.
It started off with a loud bang, as I was suddenly and rudely “informed” that construction would be going on in the studio next door.
The good: I had overslept my alarm and the construction woke me up. The bad: the construction workers shut off my water. At 8am. Without any prior warning whatsoever.
Je vous remercie beaucoup messieurs!
I politely informed them in my poorly spoken French that I needed to shower, eat, and get to work. They promised to turn it on in 10 minutes. I reminded them half an hour later. 5 more minutes? Okay. I finally got water by 10am. Considering my previous experience in my first Sydney apartment, I consider myself lucky.
I finally sat down to have breakfast. The phone rang. This is a common enough occurrence that I’m beginning to think the universe is trying to send through the message that I should no longer eat; but I digress.
>>> Dramatic conversations ensued. <<<
I went to work and did my best to focus on thoughts of abstract interpretations and fragments and probabilistic systems and protein-protein interactions and lumpability and bisimulation, and it was good for the most part. Still, by the end of the day my brain was mush and I had to head home.
I entered the train station with my brand-spanking new Navigo annual pass, the train pulled up, stopped, filled with passengers, and ….. and …. and an announcement came over the loudspeakers indicating that all trains in both directions would be halted for the night due to someone “falling” on the tracks somewhere on the line.
That is the eternal question first asked by Haddaway waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in 1993 (I’m better than Wikipedia, I am).
So what is love? I don’t know. Countless others have spent years trying to decipher its meaning and have found only partial success. I suppose on the most basic level, it’s just a biological mechanism that binds us long enough to successfully reproduce. Of course, it’s so much more than that, right? Check out a pair of fantastic TED Talks by Helen Fisher on the subject.
I may not know many things, but I do know that love is hard work. Sometimes it’s butterflies in your stomach and other times warm reassurance. It can mean having to move half-way across the world, or just bringing some flowers, poetry, and a box of chocolates. Or driving in the middle of a terrible snow storm to get your buddy some meds.
There are many kinds of love: love for one’s spouse, family, friends, oneself, puri with bacon and tea, sixties Spider-Man, that crazy red-faced guy and his buddy who used to collect cans around the McGill campus, and so on. I’m lucky enough to have experienced most of them. I’m curious about what life is like for those who have never experienced any. Sometimes I wonder if that’s where far-right conservatives come from; perhaps they each just need a big hug.
At my sister’s wedding, I had to read the famous love verse from 1 Corinthians 13:1-13
“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”
(At my Nana’s funeral I got to read the much cooler, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and last, the beginning and the end ....” My Nana was awesome like that. But I digress.)
Is that love? Well, I suppose that does cover a lot of territory. Still I prefer this quote that is often erroneously attributed to Dr. Seuss but insofar as I can tell is actually from Robert Fulghum
“We’re all a little weird. And life is weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness – and call it love – true love.”
Happy Valentine’s Day!
One more thing: if you’re looking for a good, unique gift, I can’t recommend My Forever Child highly enough. They truly take the time to make beautifully engraved handcrafted jewellery that convey messages of love and hope. I got the believe hope-miracles necklace for my sister and it is the first gift in 33 years that actually made her happy. I like it so much I got one for Jellybean as well. Give them a try.
Okay, last one, I swear: that latest episode of HIMYM was finally a good one, but still sad. Someone needs to let them know that comedies are not supposed to make people sad. Especially not on Valentine’s Day.
And thus ends my Australian experiment. I liken the experience somwhat to being repeatedly sodomized with an old, splintered broom handle and being expected to say thank you for it. They don’t like it when you don’t say thank you.
Unfortunately, leaving Australia was just as terrible an experience as when I first arrived many moons ago. Sydney Airport is just awful. After passing through security, I stumbled a bit while putting on my backpack. An official quickly offered to help me, though I soon discovered it was just a ruse to get me to cross the security line for yet another security inspection. He assured me that this had nothing to do with racism, while I, resigned, assumed the usual position. I did not say a word. We both knew he was fooling no one. I did not let it get me down, however, as I knew I was finally out of there and on to bigger and better things.
My flights with Singapore airlines involved about a four-hour layover in Singapore before proceeding to France. The flights were fantastic, with meals ranging from pan-fried fish to egg noodles with seafood. Hosts were so nice, there was absolutely no charge for extra luggage (the stated limits were 20kg checked baggage and 7kg carry on, but I brought 26kg and 10kg respectively), and all in all it was one of the best flights I’ve been on (second only to a LAN flight to Brazil). “Western” airlines (Australian, Canadian, and the dismal American ones) could learn a thing or two (or five billion) from them. Oh I forgot the best part: they had those little airline peanut bags for snacks (apologies to those with peanut allergies, but they are THAT good)!
Incidentally, I used an Osprey Porter 46 for my carry-on luggage, as it came highly recommended on the web; it fits the 115cm linear dimension requirements of Singapore Airlines and only weights about 1.5kg itself. Very handy to have the backpack straps too. I got it for about $130 AUD from the Mascot location here: http://www.sydneyluggagecentre.com.au/store_locations/
My four-hour stop over in Singapore was a breath of fresh air. I had just enough time to stay at an airport transit hotel. The one at T3 was booked out, so the friendly staff booked one at T2, which was just a short Skytrain and walk away (about 10 minutes tops). I had a nice room with twin beds, shower, tub, toilet, TV, etc. for about $50 AUD for four hours. I slept for two hours, had my shower, and then left to roam around the airport feeling very refreshed - in fact, better rested than when I began the flight. Transit rooms like this NEED to happen at more airports. Changi Airport impressed me enough that I’m quite eager to return to Singapore for a proper visit.
Finally, landing in Paris was a breeze. I arrived, went directly to the non-EU passport line, had my passport stamped without the official so much as looking at me and that was it! No checking for suspicious behaviour, no security check for the umpteenth time, no huge quarantine warning and check, no officials fighting over which line to dump me in, no two hour dramas collecting baggage or trying to exit, etc. I still even had an egg-salad sandwich that Jellybean had made me for the flights. It all served to remind me of how shitty some airports *cough* LAX, SYD *cough* really are.
So now I’m in Paris and there is a lot of work to be done, but I am happy and hopeful. I can already tell that this will be a much better fit than The Land Down Under. All the same, I will miss a few things: running ‘round Centennial Park, Bonsoy, Café Umago, salsa with UNSW LDS and at Pumphouse, and of course, my favourite peeps (you know who you are - I love you!).
Amongst the scores of films coming out this year, there are at least two that I’m totally psyched to see: The Muppets and Rise of the Planet of the Apes.
Ah, les Muppets. Frankly, there hasn’t been a decent Muppet movie since my all-time favourite, The Muppets Take Manhattan. Add Jason Segel, Amy Adams, and friends to the mix, a storyline that hearkens back to what made the Muppets great in the first place, some very cool teaser trailers and it’s hard to see how this one could do any wrong.
Next up is Rise of the Planet of the Apes (or ROTPOTA as the cool kids call it). I’ve been a huuuuuuuge fan of the classic Apes series since my teens, including the original source novel La Planète des Singes by Pierre Boulle. The Planet of the Apes, Beneath the Planet of the Apes, Escape from the Planet of the Apes, Conquest of the Planet of Apes, and Battle for the Planet of the Apes each add their own “something special”, though of course none of the latter have the magic or impact of the original, or the late, great Charlton Heston (save for a brief appearance in Beneath). As for the Tim Burton remake … well, the less said about that, the better.
This time around, we get to see how the valiant apes rise up to take over from those dastardly evil humans. ROTPOTA features the acting talents of Andy Serkis (Gollum from Lord of the Rings) as the lead ape, Caesar, as well as John Lithgow as the Trinity Killer .... errr, I mean sweet, old guy losing his mind. The film also fulfills the recent Hollywood requirement that James Franco appear in every movie. Every movie. Ever. Seriously.
The Muppets opens on the 23rd of November, 2011 in Canada and the US, the 28th of December, 2011 in France, and the 1st of January, 2012 in Australia. ROTPOTA opens on the 4th of August, 2011 in Australia, the 5th of August 2011 in Canada and the US, and the 10th of August, 2011 in France.
I’ve been meaning to write about my love of Timex watches for a long time. I love ‘em. I know it’s strange to “love” a watch, but it’s all too rare these days to encounter a product that really delivers. It’s relatively light and inexpensive, easily goes into the water at the beach, and keeps on “ticking” for a looooong time without requiring a recharge every hour on the hour - how many of us can say that about our beloved fancy smart phones? Did I mention that it keeps the time? Really well? ‘Cause it does. Plus, you have to love that glow-in-the-dark Indiglo feature. Checking the time late at night or in a dark theatre? Not a problem.
My Precious: the Timex 5F251 Ironman Traditional 30-Lap wrist watch with Velcro straps
I’ve had two Timex Indiglo watches, both given to me by my mother (world’s best mum) as gifts. My first fell out of my pocket while I was messing around with my girlfriend at the time. I lost the watch and the girl, but truth be told I’m really only sorry I lost the former. It was a very good watch. So my mum bought me the replacement I have to this day, shown above. Between the two, I’ve lost and found them at the bottom of my chlorinated pool, put them in the washer and dryer, dropped, stepped, and jumped on them, and more. And you know what? Nothing. They just kept on ticking. You can’t really ask for more than that.
So thank you Timex, for making a watch that rocks!
I have the best mum in the world. Others will say it, but I really mean it. I’ve lost count of the number of times that a friend has told me, “your mother is a saint!”, and meant it. One simply could not hope for a better mum.
She has taught me so much: the value in helping people, in being kind and polite, how to drive a car, how to cook, how to be silly. She has hammered into me the value of a good education and hard work from an early age. Mostly though she has taught me how to love.
I could go on and on about how great my mum is and the sacrifices she has made for her family. I could recount numerous stories of her staying up late to sew me a Spider-Man costume (my favourite one), making me tea in the wee hours of the morning while I studied for exams, picking me up late at night from the city, and so on. I’ll leave those for another time. Right now, I just want to say I love you mum, and I am so thankful I have you in my life.
