YouTube Surfing: Puccini's opera thing

I came across two videos of singing auditions: one of a husky, muscular black guy and a small 9 year old from Holland. They were singing the same song. Here's the tube review.

So I was bored on a Sunday afternoon, not really wanting to do anything, so I did what most people do when they don't want to do anything: click video after video on YouTube and get 10 minutes of funny. That's how I got to these videos. If you're like me, you'd do what I do to this first one: skip the sob story and get to the part where he actually shows his talent. It's at 1:07.

Then at the side, I found an entirely different person singing the same song.

Like shit. Here's the lyrics. It's Giacomo Puccini's O Mia Babbino Caro, a song about how someone loves her dad so much she'd jump off a river for him. 

O mio babbino caro,
mi piace è bello, bello;
vo'andare in Porta Rossa
a comperar l'anello!
Sì, sì, ci voglio andare!
e se l'amassi indarno,
andrei sul Ponte Vecchio,
ma per buttarmi in Arno!
Mi struggo e mi tormento!
O Dio, vorrei morir!

Word du jour: emacity

I've always wondered why this word is extremely similar with emaciated, which represents the complete opposite side of the spectrum. Here's the lexicon.

Of course everyone knows that the word emaciated means extremely weakened or thin, which probably stemmed from not spending money. Yeah, English is kinda weird.

This is a belated blog post, which was supposed to be published yesterday. Unfortunately, I was out camping. Yeah summah.

I'm drionk when (while) im rwriting this blogpost.

So I'm writing this blogpost drunk. Even when I'm intoxicated, I still adhere to my commitment: opne blogpost per night. Here's the plaintext,.

I am not using my BHackspace button to correct my sp-elling and grammar mistakes, to see how I could type when druink. This will help me when I'm sober.

Kinda funny, eh. Me and my buddy Scott went, on a whinm, to Colonial. It was shit full of dbags. BNackwards hat, YOLIO-spouting douchenuiggets. Like seriously.

Then we wnt to a gay bar, 302. Kuinda funny, cuz it's not my thing. I found out though, on Facebook, that it's their black light party versus their competibng gay bar's (Divas, like 3 blocks away() drag queen [artyy. We went ot the black light partym, of course, withoutn Scott knowing what's happening. All we saw at the front door were shirtless boys and it was until they came in the bar that I realixed that they were shirtless cuz thery had this funky glow in the dark paint o they body n shit

So we party, I was tipsy cuz of the predrinks we diid, raspberry... o, absolut raspberry anjd some funky rockstar ice tea shit. sop we drunk that, then s i mean he bought me s a couple more then i got really buxxzzed.

im not even capitalizing my sentences [poperly am i. so yeah. he couldnt get somebitchez and i couldnt get some too so we just baild and tryed to prep for the camping tomorrow, which he ibvited me. When I was wdrunk. Like seriously? So i said ok and he was like yay.

anyway, yeah. i ended up saying yes to a camping tri[ tomorrow to some lake. i hate capmping. i told himm tnat. but whatever, well see how it goes.

cuz whyat;s 20-something life withoug trying something new eh? i hope i dont get devoursd mby mosyuiqtoes on the way there. im just gonna stay in the fkin trailer n get woozy. shit's goona go do0wn bitch .

end transmission slut. im boozing.

This is why I can't have a website

It has been ultimately my goal to actually have an online presence, aside from all the social media stuff I have: and trust me, I have an account on pretty much everything. Here's the say.

I am still in the works of thinking of a snappy title and a domain name for this blog. Also, I plan on reviewing stuff I find, like movies, or good lines I have found from books, or how shitty Nicki Minaj's new single is. I think those are enough material for a decent blog-type website, don't you think?

But yeah. I need to spend quite a bit of time on the design of the blog, which I'm going to work on on the next two weeks of freedom I would get before school starts.

So, this is why I can't have a website: I'm all over the place. I don't think anything is worth spitting out a blogpost about, because usually my only comment about something can be squeezed into more or less 140 characters, which is what Twitter is about. I know pieces of interesting stuff here and there, I have quite a short opinion on something, because it's just in me to rant on about random stuff three sentences at a time.

Maybe actually making a blogpost about the stuff I know will enhance my writing skills. Maybe.

A new blogface... again.

I'm trying to get myself blogging everyday, about random ramblings I have about... stuff. And I will try to drastically change the mood of this blog. Here's the plaintext.

Over the years, I've got lots of ideas on what to write about: only that I didn't usually always have the time to write about it. I, for my fall and winter resolution, will try to change that. Hopefully, by writing more interesting stuff, I will be able to direct traffic to this blog and get more readership. Besides, misery is best shared with company, eh?

I will try to write not just about my day and all the other cryptic life metaphors I think of while in unlikely places, but I will also try to rant over things around me: pop culture, music, how awesome the last movie I saw was, how enraged I was that the chick who passed me has mismatched bags and shoes.

Random picture.

It's a new direction for me, really. I will try go from the dismal, miserable and depressed connoisseur of cryptic communication to the guy who just talks too much about stuff he sees. I have no idea what will come out of this, but hey, this is a new project and nothing is more exciting as a brand new project.

So bring out the champagne and smash it across the starboard, because things are gonna get really messy around here.

P.S. I think I need a new snappier name, since I am not dealing with crypticism [sic] that much anymore. A blog title that.. rolls around in your tongue, that feels smooth when you say it, but has hints of the verve of pop culture. I should think more about this soon.

Rides for grownups and overpriced donuts

It's just two weeks and three days remaining until September begins again, and I will try to challenge myself to write a blogpost every day for the remaining days of August. Here's the cipher... and the plaintext.

Just a couple of days ago, I went to the Saskatoon Exhibition, a yearly 5-day event in August where the Prairieland Park is filled with shops and food stores and midway rides. I wasted $103 on a Friday, and because this is the fifth year in which I have went, I got pretty tired of all the rides.

It's way more colourful at night.

One of the rides I went to was something called the Alpine Bobs. It was a staple of the midway: swinging cars going up and down a circular track at high speed. I could close my eyes and imagine that this is what the Olympic bobsledders feel, except that this ride, it's got more bumps.

At the time, I was thinking about how stupid I was to spend such a ridiculous amount of money on rides that I pretty much went on for the past four years, and how I dared to go here despite the fact that school is fast approaching and I should save more money for books and other grown-up stuff.

So I started to philosophize.

I was making life metaphors while on this ride.

I was on the ride, and as it whoozed me across the alpine bob track, going up and down and around and around as it throws centripetal forces against my body, I tried my hardest to avoid bumping into the hard plastic chassis of the car I am in. I was struggling against it, trying hard not to hit myself against any hard surface, until I just stopped, and let go.

I let myself be taken for the ride, bracing for the hard turns and the violent motions of the ride. And surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. 

It got me thinking: if only I also just went with all the violent motions and sudden sharp turns that my life right now is throwing at me, that I stop resisting and just sail through all these... turbulence, it wouldn't be as violent and harmful as I originally thought them to be.

Because from the queue line, the ride seems harsh and cruel and unforgiving. It is once you step on the ride that you realize... how fun it actually is. Eventually, a teenage girl's horrified screams of nervousness and terror eventually becomes peals of laughter and enjoyment. Because that's pretty much how the ride, much like life, is supposed to be taken: horrifying, but when you look back at it, you'll smile and think, "I can't believe I just survived all that!"

And of course the rapid motions and sudden turns are necessary, to make a ride more exciting. Who wants to go on a ride that just moves you back and forth? It's gotta have to thrash around, it's gotta have to drop you from a hundred feet, it's gotta whirl and tilt and spin and swing to make it a ride worth 6 tickets, of course.

Similarly, who wants to live a life that's just humdrum and drudgery? It's gotta have panache, of course. it's gotta have risk and love and friendship and heartbreak and betrayal and success to make a life worth living. 

And no matter how violent the ride is, when it's all over, you'll look back... at all the memories, all the hurt, all the thrashing and whirling and spinning and tilting that you've experienced so far, and you'll smile. Because you've survived all that, and you're ready to survive a lot more.

So then you go to the next queue line, and when it's your turn, you buckle up... and enjoy the ride.

The conundrum of connection

After watching a video about social media killing social connections, I have realized quite a couple of things. Here's the cipher.

We are living in the Internet age: the era of mobile technology, immersive video games, and ever-changing
status updates on our social media profiles. We see and experience life like we have never experienced before: literal gigabytes of information that can be accessed by a quick click of the Search button. The average modern smartphone is more powerful than the entire console used to send a man to the moon.

I think the internet makes it harder for
us to be happy.

But, I acquiesce, that this ease of information we have is the reason why people are feeling more and more lonely every day. I think it is because they see the entire world and then look scornfully at themselves in their current state. Whoever haven't browsed profiles at a dating website, and asked themselves, "Why do all the attractive people have to be so far away from me?"

This desire to be in close proximity with attractive people leads to a feeling of loneliness, a creeping sense of depression, a persistent thought that everyone in their city is unattractive compared to the supermodels and pop stars and swooners who live hundreds of miles away.

However, this global view of the world blinds the person's eyes to the personal connections he makes. He does not see the attractive lady sitting on a park bench, the adorable puppy who gleefully fetches a thrown stick, the supportive friends he goes out with on a weekend night. He fails to savor these little moments that should build him up and instead longs for the caress of the "perfect one": he so much aspires to get to Oz without stopping to admire the majesty of the yellow road he's travelling on.

He looks at the majestic stars through a telescope but he does not see the chair holding him up.

The person should then realize that he is not alone in the world: he is just alone on the internet.

Cheers to the freakin' weekend

Over the past 7 months, I have become drunk more often than the past 3 something-ish years of my life in Canada. Here's the plaintext.

This year in university was what I could say the most exhilarating year I have been on. After being included in someone's circle of friends (who I just met online too), I found myself going to house parties, making friends with people I barely knew, and having to pretend to be sick because I'm way hung over.

I met my buddy Brandon over our university confessions page. He had an interestingly awesome last name, so I added him on Facebook. It was only until the first few minutes of sending the request that I realized that this is the boyfriend of our family friend's sister. I was mortified. I very rarely add family friends as "friends" on any of my social media profiles, let alone my own relatives. But I went with the flow and let everything take its course.

He went to my other friend's Halloween party, and that's where it all started. He met a guy in the party who I shook hands with as well, and found out that he throws awesome parties. I went to one, initially awkward at what mess I'm in, going to a party where I knew only one person.

Alcohol made it tons easier for me to say hi to random people, shake their hands, and talk with. I decided to bring a camera to one of his parties. Halfway through the night, I began taking pictures with my hefty DSLR, fueled by my alcohol-induced mind. I was a shutterbug. I took some 200ish pictures, and the next day gave me great surprises.

Looking from the shots the previous night, I instinctively knew when to shoot, and at what angle to do it. I was shocked at how perfectly candid all my pictures were, and I pretty much documented every nook and cranny of the party. I posted them on my profile, and as they set my pictures as their profile and cover photos, I believe that they thought the same. I decided drunk pictures are a good idea, and I lugged along my trusty camera to house parties ever since.

I went from being a random unknown university boy to a guy who regularly gets invitations to go out for drinks. Sometimes, I wonder what it would have been like if I did not add this boy who's the boyfriend of our family friend's sister on Facebook.

I would probably still be skulking on my bed every weekend, typing how alone I am in this tundra. Before, I asked for even just an acquaintance, a small set of friends I can maybe go for a Starbucks with. Now, I have hundreds of them. I can literally post on my Facebook profile and send 80 people knocking at a door, ready to party.

They might not be "share-secrets-with" friends [at least not yet], but hey, you cannot turn down alcohol and all its wonders. After all, misery is best shared with company, eh?

Hello, old friend.

I'm back. And as always, here's the plaintext.

I have written on this blog 7 months ago, and I can say that indeed, a lot have (has? I can't English) changed since then. My last post was about my little Dungeons and Dragons group. It has been a while, but this summer, I have to leave the group temporarily to fulfill the demanding requirements of a new job I have just gotten.

I am back in the material handling and warehouse industry. Two summers ago, I was working for Federated Co-Operatives as an order picker for their warehouse. My supervisor gave me a picture on how I fit in the system, and what I do is I pack the grocery, produce, and dairy supplies of every Co-Op store in Saskatchewan.

I lift boxes. And put them in a pallet. For 8 hours. And if that sounds easy enough, just think that these pallets have to be the same height as me with my hands raised. Filled with all kinds of boxes. And I have to get 85 items an hour, no matter how many cases they want (100 boxes of pop? That's just one item. 84 more to go in the next 60 minutes)

Yes, I work in something similar to this.
Orange and blue as far as the eye can see.

But yeah. Now I work in an eternal -2 degrees Celsius (which is fine by me, due to the sweltering summers coming up)... a little sacrifice I have to make to get a little luxury in life. I get paid way above minimum for lifting up to 50 pounds repeatedly (which is a nice workout for someone as scrawny as I am). I tend to look at the positive things before I start on the 5th, and not look at the fact that I will be exhausted by the end of my shift, and that I won't be able to see my Pathfinder group all summer, and that I have to say goodbye to all the familiar faces and friends I made while I was toasting buns at McDonald's.

It's good to be back here in my blog. It's been a long 7 months, and a lot has (have?) changed.