Have you ever been alone in a crowded room when I'm here with you?

Have you ever been alone in a crowded room; well I'm here with you...

You know how people say it's not good for you to sleep on your stomach because it crushes your internal organs and stuff? Why on earth would anyone in his/her right mind sleep on the stomach? Your mouth is constantly producing saliva and whenever I'm crazy tired and accidentally nap while sitting at a table or something, I find that I start drooling all over the place. Seriously! I can't imagine sleeping an entire night on my stomach and finding out when I wake up that I'm covered in slobber.

Honestly people...

Does being versatile limit your ability to perform each task within your arsenal at its best? Does playing many sports limit my ability to become an all-star badminton player? Does playing multiple instruments limit my ability to become an all-star drummer or pianist? Does knowing all sorts of people at Queen's limit my ability to grow really close to one person or one group of people?

Something to think about...

Implications about piano songs...

I've noticed a problem with me and piano music. And it's simply this. I am not a piano virtuoso. Learning pieces takes time and effort. However, the intensity of a song usually only lasts for a short time before it passes into the realm of "good music". That's a serious problem when it comes to piano music. See, what I mean is this. Let's say I hear a song based on the guitar. For the first few days of being introduced to it, assuming that it's a good song, it will occupy every realm of my music listening, i.e. I feel like listening to it all the time and can't hear it enough. After a few days or so, my obsession with it dwindles to merely enjoying it and at that point, I place it as a part of a playlist and hear it as part of said playlist. What will typically happen is that during those first few days of intense listening, I will in all probability learn how to play the song on the guitar. But because learning chords and stuff on the guitar is easy and takes practically no time, I learn it and add it to my repertoire in no time.

Piano music on the other hand, is not like that. Not only is piano music much harder to find, but learning it takes a good while. Hence, when, in all my excitement, I begin learning a new piece on the piano, my obsession with the song tends to fade before I really learn the piece well enough to memorize and randomly pull out of my brain to play in public by memory. That explains why (some of you know this) I can really only play Pachelbel's Canon and Existentialism on Prom Night by memory on the piano. Are they the only two songs I have ever learned? Goodness no. But I can't seem to find the motivation to finish learning and memorizing most piano pieces that I start.

GAH!

So. Happy Endings...

It's a funny thing. I don't really know where to start so this may be much more of an incoherent babble than anything else. I was thinking today after watching High School Musical (excellent movie for a man of my tastes and musical tendencies... aside from the too too obvious lip-syncing at times), how obviously Disney it was. But why? What was it about this movie that screamed Disney? The answer is this: the entire movie gets tied together and neatly packaged as one big happy ending. It is the textbook example of "the joy and appeasement of all parties". I mean, the guy wins his championship, the girl wins her contest, they both win their audition, random people hook up... literally every single person in the movie finds a happy ending. And I ask myself this question: why not?

Have we, in this society, tired of happy endings? That they have somehow become so cliched that only movies made for children can end in them? I mean, the comedic genre aside (slapstick comedy obviously has happy endings all the time), I don't remember the last time any movie ended like a Disney movie; i.e. they all lived happily ever after. Is it because we don't believe it's possible? That something MUST go wrong, if even slightly, in order to make a "happy" ending happier by contrast?

Maybe children are the only ones who believe in happy endings. That everything can work out so perfectly like they do in the movies. When older people see them, if they watch the movie for its own sake and not for the sake of watching a "children's" movie, they're bound to feel that the movie is simply unrealistic. Have we all become so cynical that we no longer believe such happy endings are possible?

I've noticed that it's become increasingly hard to be a hopeless romantic. With people all around you thinking otherwise, telling you that not all that glitters is gold. My roommate was a hopeless romantic last year... I don't know if he still is in wake of his breakup. It takes so much strength in today's world not to be cynical. People are just too afraid of getting hurt. And I can't say I blame them though, cause it does happen. But it sets us up for a fall to think like that going into anything.

I believe in happy endings. And there is nothing wrong with being cheesy. I swear, the term "cheesy" must have been invented by a bunch of cynical people who couldn't stand watching other people be happy.

Funny thing happened today. For some reason, Rachel Manson's been occupying my thoughts in recent days and I was just thinking today that it was about this time last year that she began telling me about her amusing anecdotes and how she takes interest in the oddest little things. Then she posts on my wall and says this:

"I really want to do a handstand, but I will likely (a) fall over (b) break something (c) break myself (d) make a loud noise that will scare Tanya and Courtney or (e) all of the above."

I've not grinned that widely in a long time. It also brought a chuckle not only for the story's sake, but for reminding me that she's not changed in the least bit.

"Queen's is very queeny"
-- Anthony T.

That is perhaps the funniest description I've heard about my university. Leave it to Anthony T.

Gin and tonic doesn't taste very good...

I wish I had perfect pitch.

Ok, so why do I dislike the ending to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind so much? Well, so we're given this great story line. The guy tries so hard to keep the girl in his memories and fails and it's really quite sad. The secretary finds out she has had a history with the doctor fellow and decides to return all the tapes and stuff back to the past patients. Ok, so far everything's great. The guy and girl get their tapes and listen to it and stuff and find out about their history. Still good. Then this exchange happens to end the movie:

Girl: You'll find faults with me... and I'll get sick of you because that's who I am
Guy: Ok
Girl: Ok? (starts laughing)
Guy: (starts laughing)

Movie ends! I'm sorry, but this does not qualify as a good ending in my books.

Discovered something about myself that I kind of half-knew already but realized in its entirety today. I really really need a movie to have a good, solid ending in order to say that it was anything better than "alright". Take my latest example. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I simply did not think that the ending was good enough. Don't ask me how the movie should have ended because I can't really tell you. This is pure, biased criticism, not a critique, but I think that a movie like that deserved a better ending because up until it ended, I was thorougly enjoying myself. It would have classified as one of the best movies I've seen this year were it not for the fact that I just wasn't satisfied with how it ended.

I've said this before on so many occasions but... life is a funny thing. There's an art in listening and it's always an odd thing because the toughest part is knowing how to balance. For example, people who unburden themselves to you are not looking for a contradiction. If someone comes to me and starts talking about things that have been on his/her mind lately, the last thing I would ever do is play the devil's advocate or try to get them to see the other point of view. That's not why people talk to you. They do it because they need someone to listen, not someone who will suggest that maybe they're wrong, or are taking things too seriously, or whatnot.

At the same time, you're not really any better if all you do is agree with everything and nod your head sympathetically. I mean, for some people, this is fine because sometimes, people want to say things just to get them out, regardless of who receives it. But sometimes, people will talk to you for a reason. And I mean talk specifically to you because they believe that talking to you won't just be like talking to anyone else. This is why listening is not just about nodding your head sympathetically like you're part bobble-head. Listening is different from hearing in the sense that you really should strive to understand what the person is telling you. This is why some people are better at listening than others. This is why these people find themseleves constantly sought out for when their friends need to talk.

So far in my experience, all the women I have met (that I have got to know well) are either prone to challenging me (to a greater or lesser extent) when I try to talk, or prone to agree with everything I say and nod sympathetically every so often (debarring Karen due to the fact that I can count the number of times we've spoken in person or on the phone on 2 hands). I mean, it's not really much more common with guys, but with women, I'd not really known a single one that made me feel like I could say stuff and not only be listened to, but made me feel like I had actually gotten somewhere by doing so. Being the kind of listener who (I hope) has found the balance between not contradicting someone but also not simply agreeing with everything, I always felt like I hadn't really accomplished anything talking to someone who didn't listen in this way. Until today.

I'm aware that Linda will probably never end up reading this, but there's a saying that goes something like the true measure of someone is what they say about someone else, knowing that that person will never actually hear it. But for the first time this year, I actually felt like someone was listening when I told her about my trampoline of life crisis that I've been going through. Ever since the departure of my Asif to UofT and with Grant (or as he is known these days, G-Rant)'s limited correspondance, I don't think I'd really had any chance to say anything real all year. It's like everything had just been a part of some script that I was just supposed to go by. But today, I think I felt alright about myself for the first time this year. And it's all because of a funny little girl who runs around in circles when she's excited. That's why she's the little sister I never had.

On another note, Jon Wong finishes winter exams on December 11th!

"The truth that many people never understand until it's too late is that the more you try to avoid suffering, the more you suffer because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you in proportion to your fear of being hurt."
-- Thomas Merton

I'm kind of interested in changing the layout for this blog. After all, it has been roughly 2.5 years, which is the longest I have ever kept a layout for. But then again, I do like this layout and have been hard pressed to find a suitable replacement... and I've not got the html knowledge to make one myself, nor do I think that a new blog layout is enough motivation for me to learn.

My Shakespeare prof knows my name. It's a little frightening only because I can only recall ever speaking out twice in her class. I've never volunteered to do any actual Shakespearean recitation and I don't actually contribute all that much to class (it's sad actually). And no, I don't sit near the front. I'm a middle-ish kind of seater. And yet today, she was giving back our essays (there's like 100 of us) and generally, each person in line went up to her and said their name (surname first because that's how they're organized), she looked through the pile of papers, and gave them back. That is, until I had this following exchange:

"Hi. Wong, Jonath--"
"I know, I know... here"

She had looked through her pile and pulled out my paper as I had stepped up before I even spoke. Come to think of it, it's probably my asian descent but it startled me nonetheless. It's not as if she's one of those professors who learn all your names (music profs are famous for this. So far, I've been taught by 5 different music profs, each of which has actually made a conscious effort to learn all our names).

I might be obliged to start contributing to the class more now that I know she knows who I am. Think about it. If you know that a prof knows who you are, doesn't that make you feel more obliged to participate because you think "she'll know that I'm not participating if I don't" opposed to the prof who doesn't know who you are and you don't feel as much pressure to say stuff. Not that I have a problem with speaking out, it's just interesting to note.

So Internet Explorer version 7.0 looks like a carbon copy of Mozilla Firefox. I can live with that. But isn't this what Microsoft always does?

I should find a way to stop floating. I've said this before, but I really feel quite out of place anywhere I go these days. But who am I kidding? This is coming from a guy who, the instant he graduates with his B.Ed., wants to teach at schools in various countries around the world for 1-2 year spans at a time. In fact, even without my B.Ed. I am applying for a job as a relief teacher in Singapore this summer. I swear, can't a guy just stay put in Canada, work at a sports camp during July and August, and enjoy the company of the same friends? There's a fair chance that's what I'll be doing anyway, but if that's what happens, it'll be because I can't get a job in Singapore. Quoi the hell?

I've misplaced the art of jumping on a trampoline.

Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot...

Singaporean sling:

30 ml gin
7.5 ml Benedictine
15 ml cherry brandy
7.5 ml Cointreau
129 ml pineapple juice
15 ml fresh lime juice
10 ml grenadine
And a dash of Angostura bitters

You've got to be kidding me.