Author: Erwin

BLOGGING ON THE ROAD

I’ve taken blogging on the road this weekend. I am at my sister’s nice place in Victoria. It’s been an interesting weekend thus far.

I forgot to pack my PJ bottoms, which I only figured out before I went to bed on Friday night… at midnight. Can you imagine me going to bed at midnight? Anyways, I was pissed off at myself for not packing my bottoms.

Carolyn was my bedmate and she was like, “Dude, if somehow your jeans get removed in the middle of the night, it’s cool with me… just as long as you stay on your side of the bed.”

I slipped into bed and under the covers. Then, I took my jeans off to my ankles.

“Nope, this isn’t happening.”

So, there I was in my jeans at midnight. I laid there and tossed and turned… I made hand puppets, thought about Eurotrip which I had saw that night… I eventually ran out of things to do. Around 2:30am it got kinda interesting. Someone who shall go unnamed, laughed out loud in her sleep. It was a short, terse laugh. HA! Then someone else who shall go unnamed started snoring. It rose in intensity from a low rumble to a near bed-shaking climax. She stopped after that.

Somewhere around 3am I fell into a restless sleep. At around 7am the freaking alarm went off. Not sure why it did, it might have been set before we got there on the clock radio. I was not pleased. Nor did I reach for it. Rhonda somehow turned it off by throwing it to the ground. That was basically all she wrote for sleep for me.

Around 9am the ladies around me got up and started showering while I prayed for more sweet sleep to wash over me. It did not happen. Then phone rang. It was the most chipper voice I’ve ever heard Bryan speak.

“Good morning! Where is everyone at?”

“Well, I’m in bed and Carolyn is with me.”

“How long do you think it’ll take everyone to get ready?”

“I dunno, twenty minutes?”

“Ok, we’re all ready over here for breakfast.”

“Good for you, bye.”

“Bye.”

I hung up and made a small little pillow fort around my head. It was too late, I had to get up. I went to breakfast with everyone and bought some PJs. I left the group around 2pm to go back to the hotel. I napped for about 10 minutes (in my new PJs). I also watched some HBO and Showtime. Then I walked over to my sister’s place.

I feel a bit better now, but the previous evening didn’t really leave me with a lot of energy. I hate to mention it, but travelling with people with similar sleeping patterns does make things easier. Invariably, it’s the night owls that get the wrong end of the bed because there’s fewer of us, and we have to do the adjusting. Manifesto anyone? Oh well, it’s cool to be on the road with my friends no matter what. I just wasn’t very fun to be around today. Hopefully, I will be more rested tomorrow, but I doubt it since I anticipate getting up early again.

Well, I’m going to have a nice chat with my lovely sister now.

STUFF

Tonight’s dinner? Linguine with meat sauce. Fantastic. It’s simple yet effective.

My left pinkie toenail? Almost ripped clean off.

WHAT’S IN A NAME?

I’ve had this discussion with a few people before but I’ve decided to open it up to a larger forum. Here’s the topic: Guys, if you decide to marry, would you want your wife to take on your surname? Ladies, if you decide to marry, would you want to change your surname?

Here’s where I stand on the subject. I’d like my wife to keep her last name. She’s had it all her life, I think it’s ridiculous that she’d have to change it just because she married me. Afterall, she’s already doing me a huge favour by agreeing to watch me scratch my ass for the rest of our lives, I’d feel bad if she had to get her name changed too.

As if planning a wedding isn’t enough, she’d have to get all her documents, credit cards, ID cards, and stationary changed. Who needs that? It’s just a pain in the ass.

I know some women keep their last names after marriage for professional reasons. Before marriage, they’ve made some impact in their field and changing their name would confuse their colleagues. University researchers come to mind. If they’ve been published under one name, it’s just easier to continue to publish under that same name. Actresses are another case. Everyone knows who Julia Roberts is, but it’d be weird seeing a new movie from Julia Moder.

I might be ok with the hyphenated last name. It would really depend on what the combo would be. If I married a woman with the last name Orange, I’d probably have to insist on her using the hyphenated version. If her name was already long, it could sound akward. For example, Mrs. Love-Hewitt-Tang takes some effort to say.

What does everyone else think? Ladies, if you were willing to change, why would you? Guys, would you insist on your bride taking your name? Let’s hear it!

DAY ONE OF READING WEEK

I actually did some work today, even though I was fairly inefficient with my time. I spent nearly an entire day completing one question from a big assignment. At least it’s progress.

Tomorrow, I hope to be more productive and possibly even finish two questions from my assignment.

I will admit though to wasting a considerable amount of time looking for the new No Doubt song, It’s My Life on the Internet. Back in the day (I can say that now), there was no such thing as dummy files on file sharing networks. The RIAA didn’t flood Kazaa with screwed up files that wasted your time and bandwidth. If you found the file on Napster, it was guaranteed (almost) to be the whole song. Now, you get these incomplete files. The key I’ve discovered is to look for files that are only owned by at most five users. I went through several files that over 100 people had and these were the fake ones. I finally got a complete file that was only shared among 2 users.

Hey, do you know that Doritos makes guacamole flavoured chips now? Look for a review of them here in the near future.

READING WEEK

So Monday marks the official start to Reading Week at UBC. It’s an entire week to catch up on the work you’ve missed thus far in the term. Some people go away and take a vacation, but most people I know can’t afford to do that both for financial and academic reasons.

Last year, I had a horrendous Reading Week. I made the mistake of seeing my dentist on the Monday for a check-up. I was thinking it would a regular check-up and I’d get it out of the way so I could work the rest of the week. Hell no, it was not a regular check-up. It was an awful visit. First, my dentist looked at my teeth and said that I might have leukemia. Yeah, right. Second, he told me that I had some gum condition that needed attention right away. So, he booked me this really busy specialist immediately. The only problem was that the appointment was for 10am the next day… in Burnaby. So instead of just getting my teeth cleaned, I had to go get my blood tested and also wake up early to go see that damn specialist.

I burned an extra day and a half for all that extra crap. It wasn’t until Wednesday that I got a full day of work in. Of course, I didn’t have leukemia and the stupid gum problem wound up costing me $900 and a session of oral surgery.

Here’s the funny thing… I’m seeing my dentist again on Thursday. I don’t care if tells me my teeth are going to fall out the next day. I am not waking up early for some specialist or getting my blood tested on Friday.

Which reminds me, let me take a little small poll here. My dentist swears like a sailor when something doesn’t go right during a procedure. I find it really unprofessional, does your dentist do the same?

ON TURNING 30

Tomorrow, on Friday the 13th, I turn thirty years old.

I will leave behind my twenties. That decade where media, culture, and society make you believe you are invulnerable, capable of conquering the world, building things never seen before, and marking your mark on the world.

A lot less is said about your thirties, except that it’s probably not as fun as being in your twenties. I hope for my sake this isn’t true.

I turned twenty while I was enrolled in UBC, living in residence, so I guess there’s some irony that I’ll turn thirty, enrolled in UBC, living in residence. Mind you, I know a thing or two more now, and the place I live in now is way nicer.

I remember clearly the night I turned twenty. I was at Place Vanier just across the street from where I live now. It was a Saturday night. Not a lot of people knew it was my birthday and I kept it really low-key. I also remember being up in one of the double rooms on the fourth floor. My close friend Joanna was there along with some other of my housemates. We were just hanging out. Then I kinda freaked out a bit. I realized that I was out of my teenage years. No longer could I be carefree or aloof (not that I was like that anyways). I remember thinking that I was now in my twenties and it would be the decade where I could make the most impact on my life. It was the time where I would make the foundation for the rest of my life.

The whole prospect of not wasting the next ten years of my life was a bit overwhelming. So yeah, I kinda freaked out. It didn’t take me long to calm down. People assured me that I’d do fine and that ten years was a long time.

They were right, ten years is a long time. So, a decade later, where do I find myself? I’ll admit I wish I was a bit farther ahead in life right now. Which is not to say I’m unhappy with my life now. I am moving towards my life goals, but I just wish I was further ahead in my journey. More than anything, I wish this not for myself, but for my parents. They have been unwavering in their support all my life. I wish I could return the favour many times over now, rather than later.

If you had asked me ten years ago, where I thought I’d be in life at thirty, I’d probably have answered, “Well, I’d like to think I’d be married by then… happily of course. I’d really like a kid by then too. I like kids, so having a little tyke around would be fun. For sure, I would like a well-paying job that I enjoyed. It’s no use working if you don’t like what you’re doing. Oh, and I’d like to help my parents into retirement.”

None of those things have come true yet. I’ve come close with the job. Either the job paid well, but I hated it, or the job was enjoyable, but didn’t pay well enough. It’s true I’d eventually like all those things to happen, with caveats though. I certainly wouldn’t get married for the sake of getting married. Same thing with the kids. The reason why I’m back at school is because I refuse to get any old job.

Time marches on though, so I do recognize that I can’t hold off forever on these things. I have thought about how long I could dick around waiting for my dream job. I’ve come to the conclusion my time is really short. Once I get my degree, I’d like to land a software engineering position within a year of that, no more. If I don’t, I’ll have to face the reality that life isn’t perfect sometimes. The prospect of being in my early thirties and not being able to buy a cup of coffee is scary.

The one thing I haven’t done much of is to compare my life to others around me, especially my old high school classmates. It makes no sense to compare. My life is different than any one else’s. There are different circumstances and different goals. I know that a lot of my old classmates have stable jobs and families. Good for them. I’d love to join them, but I’ll do it on my own terms.

So, this post may seem like a bit of downer where I’ve enumerated all the goals I haven’t met yet, some of you maybe wondering if I’m at all happy with my life. The short answer is yes. I have direction in my life. I am working toward my goals. School is expensive and it’s gonna take an ass-load of work to finish, but at least I’m not floating aimlessly in a dead-end job (I’ve lived that life). What I’m most happy about is the sheer number of people I’ve met in my life. Mainly from school and residence, I’ve met some extraordinary individuals. A few of them have become close friends. In general, I know I have a good group of friends that will be there for me if I need them.

Well, this post is getting long, so I’ll end it here. Tomorrow, I will recognize the special day for what it is, but I’ll keep in mind, at the end, it will be another 24 hours in life. I’ll still have my assigments to do and all those other responsibilities.

Here’s to accomplishing some major goals soon and to the next ten great years.

COOL VIDEO

I’m not sure why I haven’t seen this until now. It’s neat to see the first couple of times. Notice how the guy walking on the sidewalk doesn’t even notice what’s happening right in front of him.

HIT IN THE JUNK

As some of you know, I play pick-up ball hockey with the boys every Saturday. It’s a lot of fun and a good way to get some exercise. Everyone else seems to enjoy it.

Today, I was standing in the front of the net, square to the shooter, ready to block a shot. Adam was about ten feet in front of me and another teammate of mine was in front of him. I could see him get ready for a wrist shot when the thought crossed my mind that the ball could probably easily hit me in the groin right now. Adam lets loose a wrister that wasn’t really that hard (we’re talking about Adam here) and before I could react, it hits me square in the junk.

I double over immediately. It stings but it doesn’t hurt that bad… yet. If you’re a guy and you’ve ever been hit there, you know what I mean. It’s the classic twenty seconds before the pain really hits. I’m limping now, waiting for it to go full tilt on me. The pain starts to throb in my groinal area. Usually one associates good things about throbbing in the groin, but not this time.

Everyone else is watching me moan in pain as I limp around. I make it down a set of stairs and collapse on the concrete sidewalk downstairs. I feel really bad, though I don’t feel the need to puke which is a good sign. I’ve read that sometimes it hurts so much you want to vomit. I’m not there yet, but it certainly doesn’t feel good. I emit a dull moan as I put my head down on the ground.

A few minutes later, I feel better enough to walk across the street back to the College. Outside the doors I see Chris’s sister and mother.

“Hello again Erwin. How’s everything?”

“I got hit in the junk, gonna go check if I still have everything in place.”

“Oh… ok…”

I make it into a bathroom. There’s no visible damage. A good sign. By this time, the dull throbbing pain has receded. Now it only feels like I got punched in gonads.

I wait a few more minutes and go back to the parkade. I re-join the action and soon all the pain goes away.

I’m alright now, but I’ve haven’t taken one in the privates in a long time. We don’t wear cups and for ball hockey, I still don’t think it’s necessary. I did think about making a duct tape cup though. It’d have a little pouch out front for a small crepe frying pan. The ball would make this doink! sound if it hit it. After hockey, I could take the pan out and make everyone crepes. It’s win-win situation all around.