monkeycrap's Diaryland Diary
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Canada Trip - Day 9
Day 9 - Drama Mama
Took the slow drones of one of the songs sang at the noraebang lounge, the Calling's 'Wherever you will go', with me to bed the previous night. Which might've made a philanthropic contribution to my waking up late in the morning. I had 2 choices. Either stay around and hibernate for the rest of the day like a vegetating geezer, or get on my feet, sling my North Face backpack on and set out on yet another wayfaring voyage to see the Lighthouse in North Vancouver.
After ass-essing the situation,
I settled on vegetating geezer.
See, that's the thing I like about long, free-and-easy vacations. If you wanna be the sloth that you've always enjoyed being, no problem! Contrast this with being in a tour package, where you've to rush from one place to another, to wait for the must-have-Chinese-food-aunties to finish whatever they're doing, be it taking that last picture, or buying hideous artifacts for their extended family members. Of course, not all tours are like that. Some are worse.
Of course, I would be lying if I didn't say that Carrie cooking lunch was a factor that wheedled me into staying put. To be honest, 4 years ago, I'd never have expected her to cook. She'd be more likely to stir trouble than soup. But 4 years is a long time in terms of Martin Yan years, and so.
Ingredients for Carrie's kimchi stew
A lot of onion, about 3 cries' worth
Beef, taken from cow
Mushroom, some bunches
Beansprouts, quite a few handfuls
1 carrot, orange type
Hot Koreans
Hot Korean Chilli Paste, if above ingredient unavailable
5 panic attacks
Large dollops of unexpected screams
Sudden bloodcurdling shrieks
Tofu, upon realising there isn't any, scream in frustration and count it optional
But it was good. Quality was there. Quantity was a little over the top. Which resulted in me having a little tsunami tummy.
Decided to watch some dramas on computer, but oxygen-absorbing-characteristic of too much stew got the better of the plot of the 5th episode of 'Memories of Bali'. Carrie drifted off into lalakimchee land. I grabbed my book, strolled out of the house and to the field.
A sense of still serenity was brought about by the halcyon monotony of the unvarying gust, its pastoral whirr cascading through the canopy of maple leaves. I took my place on the throne, a cracked, graceless wooden bench, with my bag as a headrest. The constant bombardment of the gale on my face, embellished by the sun's gleaming rays, caused me to squint in contentment. Before I knew it, the squint turned permanent and my consciousness started closing in together with my eyelids. Drifting, drifting, drifted. Siesta.
Went hoop shootin' with Ken da man in da eve' of day. Played a lil' 2 on 2 street rulez wif da street dudes from da 'hood. Kenna sai la, lost. Aiyah, not much of a bball person anyway, as you can tell from my elevation. Or the lack of it, whatever.
Let me just say something about high school kids. They are arrogant, crude and overexpressive, to the point of sickendom. Played against the team of Flapjack Flobber and Brokeback Larry. I'm not gonna say anything about Larry, or whatever his real name is, because he's good. He made(and called) all the shots in the game. And he was much milder with his insults(maybe I just couldn't comprehend some of them through the gaping hole in his teeth). But Flobber. Vulgar, and certainly very liberal with his cussing, crude actions, and insults, which were, at the most, substandard, just like his basketball skills. In the middle of the game, that hairy overweight well-endowed doofpunk bubblehead came up to me, thinking I'm some no-understand-angmoh-culture bulliable high school kid from Singapore, and did some weird gesture that involved 2 fists on the crotch area, a weird jiggly contortion of the body and a loud bellow of 'HOW D'YA LIKE THAT, SUCKA??' while pulling his pants up. No way was I gonna be taunted by Eminumboy. Not that way. So, and I'm not particularly proud of it, I retorted the way any self-respecting DX fan would retort. For those who know, good, sshhh. For those who don't, never mind.
Had a statistics lecture at night. No wait, that was Carrie. I just sat in to use the wireless access. Not that the professor minded, anyway. He said the first thing that comes to mind when one thinks of statistics is human statistical data. I beg to differ. The first thing I thought of was zzzzz.
I got bored during the lecture, so I decided to list the 50 states of the USA, without SK's help this time around. Not even close. So I gave up, and took notes for Carrie. Her mental notes, that is. They consisted of 'I'm hungry', which she agreed was true, and 'Hmm, the statistical data of good looking guys in class is skewed negatively until Jasper came along to pull the median up.' She didn't agree with that one.
Back at Vera's Burger for dinner. This time we brought a friend along. Bubble tea. Which did nothing but augment the taste of the G-money. Second one in 2 days, ladies and gentlemen. This time, I swear, when I bit into the G-money, everything else faded into oblivion. The surroundings hazed up, and just for that moment, it was only me, burger and orgasmic inspiritation.
Carrie: I don't know how this can be considered fattening! I mean, it's grilled and all, right?
Me: Yeah, I totally agree.
(Grease drips down sides of burgers and down the aluminium foil wrapping)
We sauntered back from Vera's telling jokes and basically LOL-ling all the way, mostly at people's expenses, of course. They say a good friend is one who sits on a porch swing with you, walk away, and leave you feeling it's the best conversation you've ever had. But a best friend, a best friend will help you loosen the screws of the swing, and laugh with you when the next unsuspecting victim comes along and sits on it. It was through the jokes, quips and anecdotes, those things that made me laugh so hard, that made me feel that this trip, just like the decision I made earlier in the day, was all worth it.
9:11 p.m. - 2006-06-05
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