Strange Korean

I've been taking Korean classes lately.

Seeing how I want to make the most of my time before my job starts in September, I've decided to do the things I've always wanted to do, but will never get to do it once I begin work. Learning Korean is one of them, because I love to learn about other languages and cultures, and putting that knowledge to use by communicating and befriending people of various nationalities. Furthermore, my hometown of Coquitlam and the rest of Vancouver now has more Koreans than Korea, and some of them don't even speak any English. Thus, I would surely come across Korean clients, and speaking their language would surely improve me and my firm's relationship with them.

And finally, I love it when people light up like a flaming Christmas tree when they suddenly hear you speak their native tongue.

Right now, after spending weeks on writing and pronunciation, we are finally at the stage where we start learning grammar and how to construct basic sentences. Unfortunately, just making our entrance into the realm of grammar means that our capability to carry out an everyday conversation is wholly inadequate. Therefore, I couldn't help but wince as my class practices the downright weird dialogues from the textbook, which translate to:

A: Is this a book?
B: No.
A: Then what is it?
B: It's a bag.

Or little gems such as this:

A: What is this?
B: It's a bag?
A: Whose is it?
B: It's mine.
A: It's very pretty.
B: Thank you (you insincere dickwad).

Oh, trust me. It sounds stranger in Korean.

Now as a former English teacher myself, I know how difficult it is to produce a normal, everyday conversation for the purpose of illustrating the use of very simple and preliminary grammar points to utter novices. In fact, I'm also guilty of producing a few odd practice conversations myself...but nowhere this bad. But then again, one probably should not write off such verbal exchanges as utterly useless.

After all, I never know when I suddenly find myself engaged in a dialogue with a Korean who has severely impaired cognizance.

Starring...the Law Building!

My residence and the site of my old dorm are situated near the Faculty of Law building.

I used to have so many fond memories of that place. Not as a law student, but as a science student having fun at the expense of law students, particularly when the conduct their evening mock trials in mock courtrooms which ostentatiously sport large windows for all the campus to witness. My old dorm abutted the Law Building through an unlit field, so that at night, if one were to wear dark clothing and lay in that field, he would be completely invisible to the parties engaged in their mock trial from inside their brightly-lit mock courtroom.

And that was what some of us once did...brandishing a pellet gun. Occasionally, the hidden assailant would fire a round into the window of the room where the mock trial is in progress. Being so large, the windows were an easy target, and of course, our pellet gun wasn't powerful enough to damage them.

However, they did manage to emit a loud WHACK! whenever they made contact. This was loud enough to scare the crap out of all the lawyer wannabes inside, who would then proceed towards the window to determine the cause of the disruption, the forensic experts that they are. Tempted as we were, we never fired another round as they were coming near the window, lest they realize that the report is man-made, and not some rogue crow, squirrel, raccoon, or drunk frat boy.

Well now that my old dorm has been torn down, those law students can finally conduct their mock trials in peace - to the sound of jackhammers, backhoes, and bulldozers as newer and more overpriced housing is built in its place.

So today, I passed by the law building on my way home to find that it has been altered by TV production crew, a staple presence when you have a beautiful campus, into a hospital of all things. I don't know what TV show would ever conceive of the Law Building as being a hospital given its oddly geometric design, so it must be for some weird sci-fi program like Supernatural or something.

But here's the thing: Does anyone else see the irony of having ambulances coming to a building occupied by lawyers?

A lawyer's dream come true - a place where potential
clients come to them instead.

Happy Year Of The Piggy!!!

恭喜發財, 心想事成, 萬事如意, 龍馬精神, and things of that nature.

And if all that above comes out a garbled mess, then your computer's broken and you need to throw it out. Well, if you don't know Chinese, it'll probably still look like a garbled mess to you, in which case you need to throw out your computer anyway just to be safe.

For some, Chinese New Year is a time to get together with the family, have dinner, and buy lots of crap. For me though, I take CNY as an opportunity to educate my friends on Chinese culture (and all the delicious foods that come with it). And to buy lots of crap. I take this extra step because I simply love to contribute to the multicultural education of others, and because I somehow feel obligated to show them that there is more to Chinese people than rudenss, awful driving, and pennypinching behavior.

Conversely, all this crap-buying is mainly because Chinese New Year, like any new year, represents a new beginning, so out with the old and in with the new; some would even believe that by discarding the old stuff, one would also discard the misfortune associated with it during its use. This could include buying new clothes, perhaps new food to restock the fridge, new furnishings and appliances, and if you're a rich Honger or Mainlander, a new house and mistress.

Furthermore, you're supposed to start a new beginning by cleaning the house and sweeping out the bad luck from the previous year. However, if you're one of the aforementioned rich people who buy a new house every year (and actually live in it), that is not necessary, as you can either sell the old house, or burn it down and build a new one on top. Or if you're like me, who would rather deal with the ill fortune rather than to invest the time and effort to clean up my shithole.

Cultural note aside, I spent last night doing what I said I do every CNY, and introduced my friends to my culture at a party at one of my friends' place - through delicious foods like the octagonal party plate full of fried pastries and candied foods sweet enough to dissolve teeth, pan-fried turnip cake, and new year cake, which my Japanese friends recognized as mochi. Unfortunately, everyone came so late that by the time I was done cooking them the turnip cake, taking a well-earned break, and preparing the new year cake, they were ready to leave, so a lot of them missed out on the new year cake. Oh well, their loss and more for me.

And so I begin The Year of the Pig by hogging all the new year cake.

My Bullshit Valentine

It's that dreaded time of the year again.

But I'm not going to go on the usual annual rant about how Valentine's Day is another fabrication of greeting card and confection companies to generate more business just before their fiscal years to make profit targets, because...well, it's not completely true. Like most Christian holidays, the date was likely set to cover up Pagan holidays; in this case, Lupercalia. So instead, let's just briefly attack the reasoning behind it.

Valentine's Day. The day we're supposed to express our love to the people we love, or at least supposed to love anyways. Why does a special day need to be set for such an occasion? Because we don't sufficiently express love during the rest of the year because we still live in a prudishly conservative society (oh well, at least we're still not as bad as some other countries)? Or is it because we need a break from tearing at each other's throats all the time?

And are we properly expressing our love and devotion by giving sweet, sweet diabetes in a heart-shaped box, paired with a dozen toxic roses made at the expense of third-world sweatshop laborers' health? I guess nothing has changed after all - we're all still trying to kill each other.

After reading my other rant, you're probably just blaming this on my bitterness of being single, so for your information, I'm quite content with having no significant other to hinder my physical, mental, and spiritual development, which I'm pretty well occupied with thank you very much indeedy. Yeah, that's my story and I'm sticking to it, bitches.

Besides, the kind of girl I'm looking for is rarer than a yeti (and hopefully prettier too). I can be a faithful and loving soulmate for the rest of my life and not see anyone else. It's a tall order to get a guy not to cheat until the day he takes that long dirt nap, but I know I can do it. It's just that she'd better damn well be worth it. Maybe someone like her or her.

Yeah, associating myself with girls carrying sharp objects runs a high risk of emasculation, but I guess I'm a glutton for dangerous adventure and self-punishment for failing to please my mate. Like I just said, I'm a strong proponent of self-development, so I don't take failure lightly. Furthermore, just because I've found my significant other doesn't mean I'll stop making myself stronger in all respects; I will not let anyone encumber or stop me.

Anyways, from the bottom of my heart, Happy Wednesday.

A Hard Week's Training

This must be another record.

I've spent a total of 13.5 hours of martial arts training this week - 7.5 hours of iaido, 3 hours of another style of iaido I'm trying out, and 3 hours of capoeira (and not counting that 1 hour of music class). I know this isn't much for people who are really into martial arts, but for me, that's a lot.

Combine it with the time I've spent in the gym and that's probably 17 hours of physical training, which is unprecedented for an amateur like me. Oh well, once my job begins, this isn't going to be possible without totally sacrificing my weekends, so I might as well get it done while I still can.

Gotta get that summer body ready...and crawl into a corner in the fetal position and cry.

Singled-Out Sushi

There I was in another weekly solo foray into late nite all-you-can-eat sushi.

Like any Chinese-run establishment, the restaurant focused more on optimizing customer turnover rather than customer service. Therefore, to make sure that they fill all the seats, they arranged all the tables in my section into single-table-two-chair configurations to accomodate all the couples coming in. The problem is, I was the only person in this section dining across an empty chair.

I don't mind. I've been singled out all my life.

When I was in elementary school, and when we were playing any sport in PE class that requred two designated team captains to pick their team members, I was always the last kid chosen. Well, "chosen" isn't really the best choice of words since I was the last person remaining, so "very reluctantly stuck with" is probably more appropriate diction. Furthermore, whenever an activity requires all students to form pairs or whatever certain size of groups, I was always the one singled out. So by now, I've really stopped giving two shits about it.

Besides, having another person with me in an all-you-can-eat session will slow me down. It's harder to find a table for even two when the restaurant is crowded, whereas if I'm alone, I can nearly always find a seat at the sushi bar. Ordering food would be slower because as I go over each item in the order form, I'll have to check my eating partner whether or not she wants that dish and if so, how many.

Worst of all, dining with another person wastes valuable eating time because I'll have to do things with her like talk to her. Dammit, last call is at 11:30PM and I'm trying to get the most food for my money! I have no time to talk about crap like What's-Her-Name that you met at the mall and how she's gotten fat and bitter over the years, the latest designer brands, relationships, or your periods. I am busy trying to keep myself alive and well by EATING.

I'm not being antisocial - it's just that a strong and fierce lone wolf travels the fastest and gets the whole prey.