Lettin' bitches know since 1986

Taking it Global

2010-05-15T17:08:00.000-07:00

Once, seven years ago, I had dreams to volunteer overseas and save the world as every wide-eyed suburban twelth-grader would. Except at that time, you have no real skills to offer to anyone in need, besides our adorable ideals, chronic acne and a diary of teen angst poems. The UN, Red Cross and developing world do not need this extra burden. So, I put this dream aside and filed it in the back of my mind with all my forgotten New Year's Resolutions of 1998 (be less awkward) and 2001 (make realistic new year's resolutions).

Just recently, these thoughts came back to me. The shocks of the Haitian, Chilean and Chinese earthquakes were felt in the concerned eyes of everyone watching these breaking news stories from television sets around the world. You take a moment to realize how much communities can really need help more than anything else. I remembered what I meant to do with my life now that I could help, when I couldn't before.

In three and a half months time, I will be in Tanzania working with a small group of Canadians to create solutions for community development with a focus on engaging youth in sexual heath, HIV/AIDS awareness and gender equality.
In December, I'll be in Vanuatu working with local youth in organizing infrastructure, environmental education and community mobilization programs.

To say I'm excited is an understatement.
To say I'm finally living out the dream I had in high-school... this is only the beginning.

If you happen to stumble upon this blog, please consider making a donation to support these programs by Youth Challenge International, which is a registered Canadian charity. So all Canadian donations are eligible for a tax receipt (over $25).
Here is a link to my personal fundraising page: http://yci.tigweb.org/ind/jessicayip
It is run by Taking It Global. Payments are accepted by credit card through Paypal.
Any amount of donation is greatly appreciated or please help spread the word to your friends, family or anyone who you think may be interested!

Thank you!

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Worthing, really.

2010-04-07T11:00:00.000-07:00

"This is the ghetto."
I held his arm tight - but not so tight that my veins would start throbbing and attract any more attention to myself. It's hard though when I am obviously a tourist, and more obviously ASIAN, walking between the houses of the wait staff who serve my drinks and spit in my meals and mutter "fuck you" as they bring it to my table. That I don't mind. Don't mind it so much in comparison to this. My only reply to Chris was "uh-huh" then my right foot slipped on the mud because talking became one of too many things to do at once: 1. walking, 2. being scared, 3. trying not to look scared, 4. maintaining a calm and non-intrusive gaze, 5. I am also hung over and sweating rum and cokes out of my face.

The ghetto seems miles away from the ice-cream coloured colonial style mansions lined up along the beach, but actually it's just a few strides off the main road.

To say they had a look of surprise in their eyes seeing me is an understatement. There was also confusion, slight disdain - but mostly from the women, who look familiar, like the ones who ignore me when I try to order food - and the this-is-all-just-too-fucking-weird-for-me look.

But I came invited. We were walking towards Chris' house because he wants to give me a photo of him to take back home. Everything else aside, this is a nice gesture, and I couldn't refuse.

Their homes are not lined up one by one to follow some non-existent housing frontage city bylaw. They are staggered. A handful of these face each other to share some courtyard of leftover bins, rackets and posts for some makeshift cricket field. And other homes are positioned randomly along some worn-out path. Each of them are 4 adjoining walls sheltered under grooved metal roofs, rusted from rain, age and poverty. Don't get me wrong. I am not passing judgement. The majority of the people in this world live this way. This is shelter. People can find real comfort elsewhere. Comfort exists beyond ready to assemble Ikea furniture, matching linens, any linens, or a home entertainment system. Comfort can be inviting a stranger to your home, built from the basics and decorated with souvenirs over generations, to look at your photographs from your travels on a hot afternoon, and nothing else.

If I could have it my way, I would just have it this way.

But my flights out in 2 hours. Shit.

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"Do you know Kung Fu?"

2010-04-01T11:00:00.000-07:00

Wise and unassuming words from an adorable little girl at Oistins fish market today.
Kelly and I were sent to get fish for tonight's dinner, but i spent more time dancing to "American Boy" with her than waiting in line for freshly caught Marlin.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Brownies & Pear Cider in sunny Union Park

2010-03-20T09:16:00.000-07:00

We had a nice stroll around all the stands. Most of the vendors sold locally produced baked goods, vegetables, wines, sausages, cheeses and milk! I wish I could take a cherry pie on the plane back home with me.

The best brownie I've ever had.

This photo does not do justice to how delicious the pear cider is.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Gyros at midnight - live from New York

2010-03-19T21:07:00.000-07:00

We came here from a hookah bar in Astoria.
Sammy's was voted best food vendor in 2006. I really wish we had great street food available back home in Vancouver.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Happy hour on Rivington

2010-03-19T14:05:00.000-07:00

Dad and I rushed in immediately when we both saw the sandwich sign outside: beers $3
Drinking heineken on a warm spring day with dad in New York will be one of my most favorite moments.

Also I had a really good stawberry cupcake at sugar sweet sunshine

And... I had a mini croissant sandwich and fraziar cake from ceci cela patisserie earlier today. Hmm... my pants feel tighter...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Here's what I ate today

2010-03-18T12:55:00.000-07:00

I started my trip out with Cathay Pacific's awesome fruit platter option as a kind of palette cleanser before my arriving to new York. It sucked but was just what I expected of airline food. This may have been the least suckiest airline meal I've ever had. So I was off to a good start.

First stop on my list - Chinatown, Queens. I'm in love with the Ridiculously large and juicy pork dumplings in Flushing Mall. We also had the cumin lamb burger from the Xian Food Stand that Anthony Bourdain featured in an episode. I'd like to come back for the hand-pulled noodles...

One al pastor taco from a vendor right outside of Jackson Heights station.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I have an iPhone

2010-03-01T22:22:00.000-08:00

I am typing on it and listening to jay-z. I can do this at work, at the library, or on the toilet, which is where I do most of my writing - hence this crappy blog that no one reads.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

More April 11, 2009: happy hour

2009-04-12T10:00:00.000-07:00

It's a shame that happy hour doesn't happen in Vancouver. It's a godsend that I don't have discount beer available to me back home. Or I'd be an unemployed, scantily clad burden to my family.
i started my glorious alcohol induced "hour" at 7pm. I got back just before 6am. Needless to say I was too tired to try surfing this morning. And the too-early-to-rise mature estrogen types had me awake before 8am. I berated my intoxicated consciousness for a couple of hours on my lumpy hostel bed before rising to Kelly's concerned texts.

Things could really get out of hand after she leaves town tonight.

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April 11, 2009: I've got balls

2009-04-11T15:58:00.001-07:00

"You've got balls."
That's what he said.
He was Edward. A friendly L.A. local - the friendly type that I figured is a complete rarity after two days of staying here.
Edward also happened to be a surfing instructor. And I was embarressingly in need of help. You see, the board knocked me on the top of my head on the first wave that I didn't catch. If I were no so thick-headed, I would have ended up in a hospital making good use of my travel insurance coverage.
I didn't manage to pop-up on many waves, but my testicular fortitude kept me out there for a few hours. Now I'm dead tired again and will be back to tackle them. I just hope happy hour doesn't ruin my plans for tomorrow.

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April 10, 2009: s'alright

2009-04-10T22:50:00.000-07:00

My first morning in LA began with the murmurs of my dorm mates quietly scrambling off their bunks to line up for the shower. I waited in bed and saw through dry eyes, the overcast daylight slowly make it's way through the single window. The snooze alarm kept ringing as I kept tossing in bed, dreading the hangover that was creeping in my mind to ruin my day.
Some hours before, I had found my way back from a stranger's house, narrowly avoiding my own drunk-sex horror story - the kind that I tend to tell my doctors too often.
By 10, I stumbled out the door to Kelly's hotel and was greeted with a hug that proceeded into a well-deserved lecture about my drinking. Devestating hangover aside, I was ready to seize the day and experience the credit-driven consumer glory that is L.A.
Thankfully Shannon ordered a rental after we gave up on trying to figure out L.A.'s public transit system. After an americano and Jamba Oatmeal (fucking delicious), we hit up WeHo's shopping spots in our mid-size Corolla. Navigating from Robertson to La Brea to Fairfax with a Lonely Planet map and a collective need for retail therapy. But the best parts of the day were spent at Roscoe's and Canter's Jewish Deli.
If I'm lucky I'll get back to La Brea before Monday and get inked at High voltage. But now I'm exhausted after 48 hours of disrupted sleep, drinking an dehydration. It's nearly eleven. And I'm going to bed to get the energy to ride the waves in Malibu tomorrow.

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Herro... Are you lost?

2009-01-13T20:28:00.000-08:00

Sitemeter reports that the last fifty or so visits to this poor excuse for a blog have been linked in by the Hello Kitty hat post.

That shit is old news Hungary and France. And you know it's mega lame if some dude in Buttfuck, Alabama is looking it up to.

Sorry that you've been misled to random hormonal blog entries instead. I don't have any more information on this hat. Except that it would look really, really good on me.

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Mauritian Sunset by Sandy Smith

2008-09-23T23:22:00.000-07:00

Hmm... I've seen the real thing (analog version) and it just doesn't quite compare.
I think this display took all of the computers in Mauritius to make. Because only ever saw 2 of them, but there were lots of chicken rotis.

But it's a nice work nonetheless. I'm a bit upset I've returned from that beautiful island without any inspired pieces of art...

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2008 so far...

2008-08-24T18:08:00.000-07:00

The year began with really bad sex - no really bed almost sex. I could only make a premature (ha.) assumption that it was a sign of bad things to come (ha.ha.)

But it feels so good to be corrected. 2008 has been great and much more than I expected it could ever be. I travelled across the globe and finally took the time to see how beautiful BC is:

February: Queen Charlottes, BC:
I kept my promise and made a weekend trip to visit Maja and her tastefully decorated trailer in Skidegate.
Fresh pacific crab and ice cold Pilsner on Copper Bay.
Quadding on abandoned logging roads and almost running into a deer.
Seeing the pristine beauty at the edge of Haida Gwaii, and the remnants of an aboriginal civilization. British Imperialism is serious business.

May: Tofino, BC:
Learned to surf
Ate everything at Breakers
Looked like a ganguo
Rubbed aloe vera on burnt skin for a week after

June: Mauritius
Got into trouble
Got engaged
Swam in the Indian Ocean
Ate the best lobster ever
Learned what I'm made of.

& Hong Kong:
Hugged my grandma
Ate french toast
Earned my "Right to Abode"

Summer:
Hiked the Chief - Squamish
Paddled on Green Lake - Whistler
Picnic-ed in Potholes - Sooke

Now there's only 4 months left and so much more that I still want to do. But my depleted bank account is an obstacle that might just stop me. Just not before Maui in October. I only hope to wash up on the shores of Antigua before the year's up.

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Herro...

2008-08-20T23:39:00.000-07:00

I want this right now. I want it. I wanna wear to the side and then big smile, peace sign and pigeon toed all fucking day. It will be the best thing that I will ever do with my life.

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Cot Damn...

2008-08-11T22:50:00.000-07:00

Has to be one of the best videos ever.
And a follow up to one of my favoritest albums ever:

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I Want More?!!!??!

2008-07-20T22:23:00.000-07:00

The sun was blaring. Some patches of rocky dry earth were moistened by the unfortunate beads of sweat that found their way down the blotchy backsides of several hundred viewers sitting on several hundred damp beachtowels.

The party had not quite started yet. Besides a handful of bouncing tweens near the front, it looked like most of the crowd was lagging about, licking ice creams and nodding their greasy heads to the beat of some tame adult contemporary. But instead of being QM/FM, they called themselves Bedouin Soundclash. It wasn't the radio at my dentist's office, it was Bedoiin Soundclash. It wasn't exactly bad, it was just Bedouin Soundclash.

Only a serious Roots fan would wait through their lagging set to claim a good spot up close. The crowd finally applauded their bland cadence and that was my cue to push through the stampede of exiting tweens.

How lucky was I? Yours truly was front and centre - dead centre - I had a full view of the stage. In my visual horizon stood BlackThought's mic - blessed and gleaming - preparing itself for mouffuls of lyrical brilliance beneath a dignified white towel.

At half past four, the collective anticipation of those several hundred was stewing with the afternoon heat. I was running low on smokes.

And then they came. One by one, each took his place on stage. The first broke the silence with menacing riffs, as the next entered on percussion, beating life back into that buffalo skin. The third joined with a polyphonic melody and they were followied by a deep bass rhythm before the Maestro took his place behind the drum set. For one great moment we enjoyed a euphoric instrumental in the Whistler amphitheater. And then the MC walked his all-white 1s to the centre of the stage and tossed that fucking towel on the floor.

Here right in front of me was the Legendary Roots Crew.
And they were gonna show me how they emerged from Philadelphia High School to world wide fame to their 10th critically acclaimed album twenty years later.

Their nearly two hour set was hip hop at only it's very best. I doubt I will ever see a performance as amazing as this unless I see them again. I really doubt that I will ever see them perform again right in front of me. But I would be glad to be made wrong.

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Monday, June 16: Tamarin

2008-06-25T05:22:00.000-07:00

Tamarin, a small town on the west coast, feels like a mid-70s retrospective. The main hotel is decorated like a shag-pad, but just one acid trip away from freaking out the geriatric patrons. By the sight of so many grinning dentures, I can tell this offers a pleasant nostalgia to these baby boomers - before the guilt of global warming. And burroughed in the Gold-Bond and white linen pants by the poolside is the town's only surf rental shop.\

On route to this mod revival, I met two fiercely attractive South African males. The sheen and beauty of their hair could only be matched by their love for one another. Quite often I would need to shield my eyes from the glare of their glossy locks while we laughed on the beach.

It was lots of fun spending the last few days of the trip with them. I only wish I had more time to run my fingers through those silky strands of sandy blonde.

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Sunday, June 15, 13:00:00: my hotel bed

2008-06-15T13:11:00.000-07:00

And such is life. I happened to meet these deplorable bastards at a club last night and had the time of my life - unfortunately I don't remember what ensued. I just woke up at noon with happy fuzzy memories that will make me smile always.

Friday, June 13, 2008 11:10:00am: Grand Baie

2008-06-13T00:10:00.000-07:00

As a single female travelling to a country where locals great everyone with warm smiles and three generations share a living space, I have been asked many times "don't you feel lonely?"
And the honest answer is No. I feel quote content just staring at the calm sea from every corner of the island. And if I have a cold bottle of Pheonix beer with me, then that's a bonus.
But I did feel alone this morning, when I found myself wandering through Grand Baie in search of coffee. I became a bit distraught when arriving at the closed doors of Lotus on the Square, located just before Pereybere. Realizing I had walked 1.5km in tight shoes just to get my fix of caffeine made me wonder how dire my addiction was.
Rather than wait 10mins for it to open (posted store hours are arbitrary in Mauritius), I turned back towards Grand Baie Village. I would regret this decision. Lotus on the Square was situated in a quiet landscaped garden next to a day spa. The atmosphere was calm and serene. In stark difference to were I would end up - Sunset Cafe.
I surrendered my tired feet at a table by the seawalk, expecting to sip my coffee while gazing over the boats floating on pale turquoise waters, emptying my mind of thought, getting lost in the beauty...
What I got was an earful of arrogant banter from the table of businessmen next to me. They were discussing vacation homes, stocks, and Wimbledom. Every verbal exchange was drenched with contempt for one another. It was less a conversation than a competition of social superiority.
Here, I did feel out of place. I was caught overhearing pitiful pretentions. These were the fathers of the daughters featured in My Super Sweet Sixteen. And I was horrified. These weren't people. These were bags of scabbing flesh bound into the human-form by the designer clothes and wristwatches that they wore.
I was more than releived when they finally left. But still I quickly drank my coffee before the next group of unfortunate jerks could arrive to occupy the table.

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Hong Kong Airport - MK 641 13:00:00

2008-06-09T23:29:00.001-07:00

After eating dimsum with my little cousins and auntie, I returned to HKS to check-in for my afternoon flight. While waiting in line, I was introduced to a bright, smiling Mauritian, Jean-Raymond Rayapen. He helped me confirm that his country uses 240V outlets, and within minutes I received an invitation to eat dinner with his family in Trou Aux Biches. I also offered to check-in his excess luggage, and just like that two strangers hit it off in a frantic airport of a country that was foreign to both of us.
By chance (or fate), Raymond's seat in 38B was empty, so I had the fortune of spending a 10hour flihgt with a charming local, who patiently went through my itinerary with me and relaxed almost every sense of doubt I had brought with me from Vancouver.
Then we ate cauliflower masala and watched Bucket List, which was nice, but quite sad.
I met his lovely wife and six beautiful children outside MKS. I said thanks, thanks and thanks again to him as I followed my driver to his taxi. After 36 hours of travel and no rest, I was finally going to reach Auberge Aquarella and rest in a room with an unobstructed view of the Indian Ocean...

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FUCK Vancouver: June 8th 00:20

2008-06-09T11:29:00.000-07:00

As a diligent passenger, I arrived three-hours ahead of my scheduled flight. Only to discover that CX889 was being delayed by 40mins. I could only bit my lip and shrug. An extra 40 minutes makes little difference considering it would take a day and a half before I reach my final destination
Half the other passengerns turned GATE 51 into some ill-smilling sleeping quarter during the hours leading up to our boarding time.
I've never seen a more unattractive collection on ondividuals since the time I found myself lost at Wal-Mart: disheveled hair, arms splayed across two seats and pale unironed khakis crease further by forcing sleep in awkward positions. Simply because it's less painful than making conversation with your spouse of 20+ years, whom you settled in marrying because, well, she settled for you, too.
And until I'm doomed to such meaningless existance, I will travel the world and keep documenting my sights with this pink pen and notepad.

Starstruck

2008-06-02T18:34:00.000-07:00

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Which neurotic bitch am I?

2008-05-28T21:55:00.000-07:00

I like totally knew that already.
So long as I am not some mincing supporting character doomed to subordination by excusable subplots (Stanford Bleugh), I will not complain.

Those pink Manolos are still on sale...
There's still room on the Visa...

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Holy Fucking Vancouver pt.3

2008-05-27T13:09:00.000-07:00

Did god answer my prayers...
and then decide to kick me in the nuts because he knows that I work 9am-5pm Mon-Fri.
Is he that big of an asshole?

If Pharrell could sign my BBC full zip up hoodie, I'd be the happiest kid around for about 10 minutes.

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Thank you Brie...

2008-05-24T01:40:00.001-07:00

for recommending the BEST WHISK EVER.
It feels like an extension of my forearm and gives me all the self-confidence in the palm of my hand. All for $7.99

I whipped that swiss meringue like a preteen with a playboy. I was whipping out stiff peaks in no time.

Even more seriously, I whipped up a fab new creation: strawberry white chocolate swiss meringue buttercream. It's fluffy and yummy and pink and generously spread atop light vanilla cupcake!

Will go very well with Santogold. See you tonight! Sean come home!

The green cupcakes have matcha white chocolate frosting. Totally killer...

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Fucking Vancouver pt.2

2008-04-13T22:27:00.000-07:00

DAMN:
I regret spending anymore time in this city. And it ain't cheap. I spend enough trying to keep a steady buzz going just to tolerate this shit. This poster just hurt me the wrong way.
So while Pharrell was embellishing that last Heart & Mind Tee for one grateful fan in HK, Brie and Kelly were getting ready for Melrose Ave, by packing up a few choice layering tops that wouldn't be missed if they were tossed in favour of some sparkly American deals. While they might have been taking a stroll along Venice Beach under those sleepy rays of sunshine after a hot tamale dinner, I was in the back of a pick-up with a greasy Black Lab next to my lap, taking solace in a can of Lucky Beer. We were in line for the 7:25 ferry to Langdale, talking ourselves through a 2-hour wait. On the other side of Horseshoe Bay, we'd take a long drive before overloading 6 adults, a dog, plus a top-heavy child (me) into an adorable little motorboat. It managed to crawl through calm waters to Nelson Island in the night. We had the moon, I had more Lucky. And we made it to the granite shores alive.
Just too bad that the next day and a half at the cabin would have to end - before I could even break off my own legs and call in sick for work. I had also learned how to swing an axe, so this should have been fairly easy.
But I didn't.
Because I haven't grown my figurative balls yet.
Because I'm tired and weak because I'm from Vancouver, where organic tofu has replaced testosterone. And we are passive, and like to buy things at Metrotown during our free time. Once a year we have parades in Vancouver. We take the whole year to plan it. But we still manage to put on a mediocre show for you. We hope 2010 is just below your expectations. That's all we ask.

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Fucking Vancouver

2008-03-31T18:37:00.000-07:00

The Roots played in Toronto last night. The only Canadian stop in their current world tour.
And starting tomorrow it's barely legal to light a cigarette outside your house in Vancouver.

And you smell funny.

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WHOAAA, SON!

2008-03-28T10:13:00.000-07:00

I am smart, I am soo smart. And I'm pretty!
Daniel and I are gonna pick berries and go fishin' and just HANG all out.

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Adam Tensta - My Cool

2008-03-09T00:29:00.000-08:00

I met Melissa one fateful semester in a Creative Writing class at Cap College. Taking the course was one of the best decisions of my life, The nurturing graces of Mr. Roger Farr cast much light on preserving and improving my craft. And Melissa kept me from skipping class for blow. I always liked her hair, she wrote the good shit, and we share the same birthday - so really it's written in the twinkly stars.
Since radio committed suicide, I've counted on her to guide me in the right path to new music. Otherwise, there would be holes in my Kanye CDs. So in between College Dropout and Late Registration, she got me into Chromeo. Then before Graduation released, I was dance-dance-dancing to Girl Talk for my life.
Now, post-Graduation, (and I have no clue how to measure the next interval of my existence until Ye's 4th album comes out), I'm just biding my time until Melissa tells me what the new goodness is:

Not clear what Adam Tensta's influences are. But he totally sound's like Kid Sister's boyfriend. I'm liking this new electrofunk/hip-hop sound. So hopefully he catches on and comes here for a show. In the meantime, I'm digging up my all pennies to buy his album.

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Kanye West is back again...

2008-03-04T22:13:00.000-08:00

Thanks for the presale code BGN.

Got the tix.

Stoked to the Mutherfucking Max:

Will gladly be lining up for beer when Rihanna performs.

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?uestlove @ Shine

2008-03-03T14:42:00.000-08:00

I picked up my tix just .5day after getting an FB notice that ?uesto was returning to play a DJ set in Vancouver. Still mad that I missed his last appearance while recovering of jetlag, I couldn't not see this - even if it meant starting a work week sleep deprived and hungover. How glad was I to settle in a seat near the back with a Heineken ($7-OucH), my battered notepad, and a pink pen.
At a time when Chris Brown and Flo Rida pass for hip-hop, I depend on ?uestlove to guide me in the right direction and show me how it all started... and then with disappointment, wonder how did it end up like this?
His THREE hour (!) set chronicled the progression of hip-hop, starting early with Mister James Brown, to the Grandmaster and DMC. ?uesto took us round New York to Philly and back. Bouts of turntabilsm brought Schoolly to Beastie, Pharrell to Blondie. And energy to a crowd of faithfuls. I think I get it now. What started as a fad is now a cultural phenomenon, and I care about the state it's in. (So can this guy please Fuck Off now?)

Much love and respecks to Kurt (not Blow) for the 2nd beer and his infinite wisdom on Hip-Hop and why Melle Mel and Kool Herc matter, although I'll never hear about them today.

KNOW THIS:

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812 E.Hastings St: nominal presents vapid.

2008-01-27T05:08:00.000-08:00

One by one the scensters enter through the alley - one familiar converse imprint over the other.
Turning the corner from Hawks Ave, in what appears to be the remnants of some failed fucking warehouse on the edges of the DTES is a makeshift venue for marginal characters and the music they like.

Determined to withhold making premature judgments on the crowd, I hoped the Pabst Blue Ribbon would help encourage an impartial mindset. But the scenesters kept coming, each as androgynous as the last, all indistinguishable from the rest. So I kept sipping on Pabst, and kept thinking about pastel coloured cupcakes (which is what I do when I'm scared for my life) until Vapid got on stage.

What a great performance by Katie! The drummer was skinny and pale and slouching and really tired looking, but he was good, too. They played an awesome set that didn't last long enough.

I most totally "copped" their "shit" (it's a super cool clear 7") from Sean the birthday boy, who turned old enough to be my dad again this year. That keeps happening like every year...

Thankfully, tseh-tseh dropped me off at home in the 'burbs and I didn't fall down. The thrill of surviving the night kept me up and blogging til 6am, and here you go. It's not great, but you volunteered to waste your time here, and that's not my fault.

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Toke-yo green

2007-11-04T19:48:00.000-08:00

I can't wait to smoke midori again with the locals the next time I stop by...

Gen wa: Oi, omee! Kono kusa no nioi kaide miro yo! Kore wa zettai saikookyuuhin da ze!

Meigu wa: "anta'tte honto ni onnatarashi ne! Anta nanka kirai yo!

Watashi wa: (Ki o tsukenaya dame yo! Tabetai!) ^.^

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Chez Watanabe

2007-11-02T18:31:00.000-07:00

My "hostu-famiri" keeps a tidy 3-level home in quiet, peaceful Mizue, a village in Tokyo's Edogawa district. You might pass by their nighbourhood on the way to Tokyo Disneyland during the holiday.
Little Yurika rides her little pink unicycle up and down the lane after coming home from school. Then she settles in the den to finish her homework, before enjoying mom's delicious home-cooking. Sometimes Watanabe-San will finish his shift in time to share dinner with the family, and parks his clean white taxi in the carport.

Downstairs his 21-year-old stepson is haing a cigarette while listening to Bob Marley. And his girlfriend, Meigu, is brewing coffee for me while feeding "poo" and "haba" their 2 furry chihuahuas.

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The Call

2007-10-19T00:26:00.000-07:00

A long distance phone call is received to inform the death of a relative.
Uneasy hands throw jeans, t-shirts, bandages in a suitcase 3 days before a scheduled flight.

Kanye West is fascinating...

2007-10-13T17:37:00.001-07:00

...Less a rapper, than some progressive sonic stylist with a priviledged wardrobe.

Lately, he seems to be branching off from Hip-Hop: collaborating with John Mayer and Coldplay, and other limp-dick-soft-rock crooners; donning extravagant and conflicted ensembles on every red carpet, pairing staple XXL logo tees, with elegantly tailored trousers, matching italian loafers, and a paisley bandana . His interpretation of "Ghetto Fabulous" is a convoluted rambling of street fashion and high-priced twat couture... which I wish I could pull off, or even afford.

And those damn white glasses. Those Futura-styled specs that serve no practical purpose, and is nothing more than a self-serving experiment to see how far the public is willing to follow his lead in this childish dressup game. He's convinced that he can convince the world that he is The Trendsetter.

He is taunting his audiences with an inappropriate Mod-revival - less a natural progression of Hip-Hop than a trend he's forcing down our throats in his constant need to stroke his veiny throbbing ego. Ew.

Awesome.

Looks aside, his beats are catchy and his lyrics are accessible enough to be universal. If you heard "All Falls Down" you're probably a fan (at least a little bit). He's gaining international popularity and is becoming an icon in Tokyo (Japanese have no rhythm).

I'm just worried that his quest will cross paths with those slimy Scenester-bitches. As I type, they are listing to "Stronger" and loving it. Soon they'll realize that their own music sucks and will have to adopt Kanye as their own. By then Kanye will be squeezing his ass into skinny jeans and wearing guyliner (cause he thinks he's the only one doing it), and I'll be throwing elbows at anorexic emo-kids in the clubs.

But, I LOVE KANYE. So I'll enjoy him as much as I can for now. Can't wait to see him in concert next week! The stage might collapse on the weight of his Ego, but hopefully not before he performs "Addiction."

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Test, test: 1, two, one 2

2007-10-09T21:38:00.000-07:00

Exercise A: bakery
Here's a link to my favorite cookie recipe: Black and White Cookies
Success.
Exercise B: poetry
This is amazing.

Also, success.
Exercise C: Fancy!

Wow.
Exercise D: grafitti

That was all very awesome. Now let's get started, shall we?

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