Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
I know everyone's wondering about how the Argo cheerleading tryouts went because I've been telling the story about 5 times over and I've been asked 20 times, so here I go with the story ... in timeline form because I'm sore all over and it hurts to sit.
6:00 am: I woke up at this ungodly hour. I don't think I've woken up before the sun has risen since college and I had to make sure I made my 8 am exam on time.
6:45 am: I had to chase the bus to get to the subway ... morning jog completed.
7:50 am: Met the girls at the tryouts. There were girls there already, but not as many as I had anticipated. They had us sign in and fork over our headshots and $20 (which of all things, I forgot to bring. Thanks for covering, Whit.). Kaitlyn also brought her friend to the tryouts (her name is lost on me right now). We got our randomly chosen numbers (I was known as #86 for the day) and I felt like I was auditioning for American Idol or So You Want to Be a Cheerleader or something. They kept playing that new irritating Janet Jackson song and I remember stating that if we had to dance to this song I would be pissed off. Guess what? My bad karma kicked in. I heard Janet Jackson's 'Feedback' 50,000 times throughout the day.
8:15-12:30 am: They filed us all into a theatre which had ample space for us to all learn the audition routine. Kaitlyn knew the choreographer and apparently she had told Kaitlyn that the routine was easy. I questioned this chick's definition of 'easy'. If your muscles become sore after doing it three times, is that 'easy'? The routine was OK but very stiff (which is basically how a cheerleader dances). I didn't particularly like the way the choreographer was teaching us the dance because she didn't seem to know it herself, which ultimately caused me to learn a few of the moves incorrectly. But we got through it and I learned it, sorta.
We were given two hours to rehearse the dance. I've never danced so hard. Actually, the last time I danced that hard was probably for ChinKL. I wondered why I ever missed those days. By the time the final audition came, my arms felt so heavy.
2:30 am: Showtime. The auditions were done in randomly chosen pairs. Of course, everyone was hella nervous. The hardest part for me, as it is all the time, is memorization. The only way I can memorize something profoundly is if I'm given at least 2 days. But of course, I was only given 2 hours and I soon realized I'm not as in shape as I thought I was. And with my luck, I was auditioning with another chick who had no idea what she was doing. You just looked at her and knew she followed her friend to the audition (she did), so I couldn't follow her when I completely blanked out.
Now, I don't usually get stage fright. In highschool, I was very comfortable on stage and performing. I'm not sure if I blanked out then because I had stage fright or because my memory just especially sucks under pressure. Or maybe it was a combination of both. I did the first part fine and then ... blank. The thing is, these auditions are not based on whether or not you can remember the routine. They were more based on how you presented and carried yourself. In fact, about half the girls who auditioned did in fact, forget the routine. The point was to keep going and make yourself seem as though the entire thing was natural. So I think I made my major mistake in stopping and asking if I could start all over. I should never have done that. But I did it. Whatever. I managed to finish, but I knew doing 5% of the dance was not enough. They were stupid if they picked me.
And you want to know the most stupid thing? I could not stop running the entire routine in my head all day today. I hate my life. The routine isn't even really that hard (but not 'easy'), just hard to learn. Here's a clip of some of the other girls practicing:
The way the auditions went was this: that day was the preliminaries. If you got chosen to go on, you would move on to the Interview Stage, which takes place throughout the week. If you passed that, then you would move on to the Final Audition, which is next weekend in which family and friends can watch.
So we had to wait for them to go through all the girls (two by two) before they announced which numbers would go on to the Interview Stage.
2:32 pm - 4 pm: This is how long it took for them to do the rest of the girls and deliberate. At this point, we are so tired, bored and in pain. I was sooooo sore. I had not been this sore since I first started snowboarding, years ago. Honestly, my entirely body ached and still does today. I had even stretched extensively before and after. Not to mention I had to sit on a concrete floor. It was so excruciating.
At this point, I'm also contemplating whether or not I really wanted this to begin with. If I was chosen to move on, I would've seriously contemplated on accepting because I realized how demanding it was both physical and time (practices are twice a week for three hours!) and the timetable conflicts I would have with school and work. In the end, I realized it would be more of a relief if I didn't get it, so that I would not have that dilemma.
And guess what? This was the longest rejection I ever had to wait for! LOL.
"Thank god!" was what I said when I didn't see my number on the board. Big relief for me. I didn't even feel that bad that I didn't get it. I just wanted my bed.
However, the great news was, Kaitlyn and Whitney got to move on! It was great because out of the four of us who tried out, those two probably wanted it the most. Kaitlyn had always wanted to do it but was never old enough and Whitney had always wanted to be a cheerleader. So, kudos to them! I can't wait to see them perform that god-foresaken routine with that annoying-ass song. Good luck, ladies!
I'm really glad I tried out, as painful (physically) as it was. I know alot of people didn't have a whole lot of faith with me in the whole thing (even if they didn't say so explicitly) but guess what? This experience isn't going to stop me from trying out next time or for other teams. Kaitlyn's friend and I are even discussing trying out for the Raptors' Dance Pak, which is more hip hop-based than the Argos' Cheer team and it is more our style. So that will be another experience on its own. I think they might be in June or something. I just have to learn to learn quickly.
Whitney, on her audition (and doin' her thang):
Oh yeah, and I think her picture is going to be in The Toronto Star.
After the auditions, we scrambled to a restaurant for food and alcohol because we had been bitching about it the entire time we were waiting on that cold, concrete floor. We celebrated with some shopping and finally dragged our tired asses home.
Oh, one interesting little story to add:
As we were waiting at a red light, Kaitlyn's friend suddenly yelled, "Oh my god!" and she pointed to the car next to us. There was a guy looking at us and licking his car window and jerking off. That was gross... who knows how dirty that window was?? *sigh* That's the kinda price you have to pay to be a cheerleader. Only in Toronto. ^_^
Friday, March 21, 2008
Last night I went to see David Guetta @ CiRCA nightclub with Yuri, Tom and Konrad. For those who don't know him, he's a DJ (which I realized just last night) and he spins House music. He was pretty good, although I don't really know how to judge how well he played music seeing I didn't even know half the songs he played (I know the one that he made that is always on the radio). He was good in a sense that he kept me dancing for like 5 hours straight.
I'm not really sure why I went and agreed to pay $50 to go (and then it actually turned out to be $60). Yuri just asked and I said I would go and the rest is history. We got there super early because this party was much-anticipated and it was really a good thing we did. Apparently by 10:30, the line up was creeping to the next block. I think everyone was there, because people I don't usually see or wouldn't expect to see were there: like this kid I knew from elementary school (who Konrad also knew. Hello, small world) and the guy I always buy juice from at Freshly Squeezed (I think he recognized me too).
By midnight, the place was swamped. I opted to wear my new LAMB running shoes, which was a good and bad idea. It was good because I comfortably danced for hours on end and wouldn't have stopped had I been sufficiently hydrated and fed. It was bad because wearing running shoes make me the tiniest person in the room and of course, I and the shoes were trampled amongst the sea of dancing giants. I had to dance on stage for most of the night to get some oxygen and to protect my feet.
I didn't really realize how popular this David Guetta guy was until I got there and everyone was screaming his name. From what I could see, he's not that much of a rockstar-quality (except for his shiny shirt) so I guess it's the music he spins is what attracts the crowds.
This guy I was dancing with even came all the way from the Dominican Republic to Toronto to see/hear him! Yeah, it was a bit surprising that 1.) People travel to see/hear this guy, and 2.) a Black guy likes House music (and he was even decked out in glow sticks). Not that that there's a problem with that. I'm just saying.We left at about 3 am, and it was a good thing we did because we beat the rush when he finished playing at 4. We hit an all-night restaurant and I had quesadillas, which I'm paying for right now.
When I got home, I realized it was 5 am. Oooooh boy.
It has occurred to me that my musical horizons are expanding. I've superseded listening to primarily hip hop music to rock (mostly German and Germenglish) and now, I've developed a taste for House. I've even been sporting black nail polish lately, which isn't like me (that is, to be emo or wear nail polish). Look at me, I'm growing.
This one's for you, Vicki. I missed that "Love is Gone" song... but here's one I think you and I will love...
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Move over Dr. Phil, there's a new unlicensed therapist in town.
It's amazing, really. I'm able to dish out all kinds of advice, yet I cannot even help my own life. Is it because I have a better perspective of someone else's life than my own?
Recently, someone thanked me for some satiable advice I had given them over a year ago. The funny thing is, I barely know this person. I think we met online through a friend or something. We talk once in awhile, but not that often (mostly because I wasn't really that interested). One day, we were just chatting and he was griping about his then-girlfriend. I gave him my point of view and I must've given him something to think about it, because he thanked me for saving him from wasting time in trying to salvage his toxic relationship. He even invited me to his birthday party.
It feels really good to help people, especially strangers who are taking your advice not because they know you, but because they respect your advice for what it is. I guess I am known for giving that hard-to-admit advice that sometimes isn't easy to see, but I love telling it like it is (even with all the trouble it has got me into).
It's simple for me to point out problems and fix other people's [love] lives, but why can't I help my own? I'm just as lost and confused as the people who come to me for advice. Perhaps my problems are more complex than others, but that's my ego talking. My problems are as petty as anyone else's.
I think because they're my problems, to me, they seem so big and unsolveable. But that's how it is with everyone. To each, their own problems seem so important and distracts them from seeing the simpleness of it.
And it's not like other people haven't tried to help me. I have taken some well-heeded advice, but sometimes it's not really enough. No offense to those who have tried to help me, but I need someone to snap me out of my funk, instead of feeling sorry for me or my situation. I need someone who isn't afraid to hurt my feelings (because that ship has sailed) and tell me what to do.
In the meantime, I'm 'self-therapeuting' myself with physical activity. Like I said before, I am looking forward to the warmer weather to be more active. It will help distract me (yeah, that doesn't really solve any problems) and improve my physical outlook because this chick's self-confidence walked out the door a long time ago and in walked self-pity.
I am really looking forward to the Argos Cheerleading tryouts this Saturday. The tryouts begin at 8 am and it is a series of routines they teach you as they eliminate you throughout the day. I really don't think I will make it past these preliminary auditions, but I look forward to the physical exhaustion. At least I will be trying out with some friends, so it won't be a lonely rejection (that's not to say that my friends will be rejected, it's just less embarrassing when I have friends with me as I'm being rejected than going through it alone).
The doctor is out.
Edited to add: Thinspiration
Adrianna Lima on the cover of April's issue of GQ:
I wonder if it's easier to pose nude if you're a 'virgin'...
Sunday, March 16, 2008
It's crunch time for me. I've got to get in shape. Not only for the Cheerleading tryouts next weekend, but just in general. Outdoor Sports Season is a-coming and I plan on coming full force into it: football, baseball, tennis, beach volleyball, dance, yoga ... you name it, I will
do try it.
I think I've had enough of winter and cabin fever. Let's carry on.
I'm trying hard not to take a nap right now, even though it would feel so good right now. Problem is, I know if napped now, I won't be able to sleep and wake up early tomorrow for a meeting with clients.
The past weekend will surely shave off another year off my life. On Friday, the weekly Poker night was canceled so I went to My Apartment Nightclub. I really wanted to get my dance on as a workout. It was a good night, sorta.
The Good: Jezrin called me at the last minute and she actually came clubbing. I sense this is the beginning of me
introducing shoving her back into a 20-something's social life.
The Bad: I got pulled over again. I'm mere months from obtaining my full driver's license. He pulled me over for me being in an intersection while the light was yellow. Whatever. WHATEVER.
[after giving the cop my driver's license, registration and insurance, he walked back to his car]
Me, slumped over the steering wheel: My night is officially ruined.
Cuong: Don't let this ruin your night.
Me: The night hasn't even begun and it's already ruined
Cop, comes out of nowhere: Don't speak so soon.
The good thing is, he gave me just a warning. So I guess this goes under "The Good"...
Saturday was the night most hard-working people would celebrate St. Patrick's day, since this year, the actual day lands on a Monday. I was looking forward to going to Windsor for St. Patty's Day again this year, but alas, plans fall through and we had to reschedule that trip. I was looking forward to not having to 'plan' the event for everyone else in town and leave everyone else to their own devices but since I was in town, the party stayed in town. ;)
On a whim, I decided to combine my 'party' with Vicki's. And why not? We each had 'duties' of being the ones to plan this thing so we might as well join forces (or just be lazy and rely on Vicki for the main planning and hosting). It turned out to be an awesome idea. It felt good combining our 'second-families'. The Polish and the Russians duked it out on Wii tennis as a sort of nationalistic pride thing and Nick even realized that one of Vicki's friends was his boss! Small friggin' world. I think the Europeans even outnumbered the Asians, for once. First we had a pre-party at Vicki's abode. Jello shots, alcohol, Wii galore! Once we got nice and tipsy (me, drunk), we piled into 5 cars and went to West 50.
I think at this point, one would call this the 'climax' of the evening. The major problem was that since Mel's bday, West 50 did not forget Cuong's face when they kicked him out the last time. Or at least, the bouncer didn't forget his face and then made some absurd excuse that half of us couldn't get in because we were wearing running shoes (even though he had let in tons of sneaker-footed people ahead of us). After a little chiding, and me having a talk with the manager (again!), we were finally let in on the condition that Cuong "didn't give [them] shit or else we would all be thrown out". I think it's safe to say that we won't be returning to West 50 so it's a good thing we made the most of the rest of the night.
As usual, they had a live cover band and a DJ. I loved belting out the tunes but I finally lost my voice
singing screaming "Killing Me Softly" and then I was done (speaking-wise).
The after-party carried on back to Vicki's house. We stayed up until 5:30 am until I finally had to kick everyone out of Vicki's house. Some of us crashed (uncomfortably) at Vicki's and woke up groggily at about 11 am to clean up and get something to eat.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
I recently came across eBay listings from the Toronto Police Auction. I don't know why, but I was semi-hoping to maybe find a once-confiscated Acura RSX (with millions of dollars in cash stowed away in the glove compartment) on there. Instead I came across some interesting items.
When you see the things that are being auctioned off by the police, you can't help but wonder where they have been and how/why/where they were confiscated. Not to mention from whom. They don't put them in the item descriptions but they really should because if I ever bought anything from the police, I will always wonder what stories they hold. I saw things ranging from a bunch of kids' socks (sad) to bikes that were going for 2 bucks!
I think the police would actually get more money if they posted the circumstances in which the items were acquired. Who wouldn't want a former druglord's Persian rug?!
Other items I can't help but wonder where they've been...
Item #1: What it should probably say: "This set of 36 mini nail polish bottles was part of a raid of a small Asian massage parlour offering massages with 'happy endings' and masquerading as a nail salon in downtown Chinatown." Item #2
What it should probably say: "These tacky shoes once belonged to a hooker caught in the backseat of a car with Charlie Sheen parked behind the Denny's. Ghonnerhea sold separately." What it should probably say: "Attention Peeping Toms and Stalkerazzos! Once belonging to former paprazzo-turned Britney's beau, Adnan Ghalib, you too can make great snatches of unsuspecting celeb snatches! This premium German-made lens provides for close-up shots from even the greatest of distances from helicopters and clear moving shots from high-speed moving SUVs on the highways. Creepy mannequin hand sold separately."
Item #1:Actual eBay Description: "This set of 36 mini nail polish bottles comes in a practical, step down tray for showing off your collection, and hosting a fun, luxurious girls night in. These mini sized bottles are ideal for stowing away in even the smallest night out purse, and make fun, adventurous stocking stuffers too!" (this was probably written buy a guy because we girls don't do 'Girls Nites' with tacky pink nail polish)
What it should probably say: "This set of 36 mini nail polish bottles was part of a raid of a small Asian massage parlour offering massages with 'happy endings' and masquerading as a nail salon in downtown Chinatown."
Item #2Actual Description: "These funky and fashionable shoes will definitely make you stand out in a crowd! They are black, with about a 4 inch platform heel, and have a running shoe look with laces up the front and shiny stripe accents."
What it should probably say: "These tacky shoes once belonged to a hooker caught in the backseat of a car with Charlie Sheen parked behind the Denny's. Ghonnerhea sold separately."Item #3 Actual Description: "This classic camera zoom lens appears to be German made. It has a unique look with its aluminum finish."
What it should probably say: "Attention Peeping Toms and Stalkerazzos! Once belonging to former paprazzo-turned Britney's beau, Adnan Ghalib, you too can make great snatches of unsuspecting celeb snatches! This premium German-made lens provides for close-up shots from even the greatest of distances from helicopters and clear moving shots from high-speed moving SUVs on the highways. Creepy mannequin hand sold separately."
I've decided that I'm currently sick of the rut I'm in. I believe I've hit an all-time low right now. I know I can't change my past, so I will do my damn well best to alter my future before I am forever in this dark mood I've been in since the beginning of the year.
I've realized certain things in the past month:
1. I *heart* New York. And not in that yuppy tourism way. I really love it there. I think I will try to make it my annual trip thing and be a part-time New Yorker. My retreat, if you will. I love the atmosphere, the people, the pretentiousness, the dirty and yes, even the subways are 'charming'. With so many people with bigger problems, yours seems so petty. And dammit, I will know my way around New York City with my eyes closed one of these days.
2. I need to go back to doing what I like to do because that was when I was happiest. For example, writing and dance. It's impossible to do both at the same time (haha, I'm picturing myself doing it right now), so in the first instance, I have signed up for a Creative Writing program at the University of Toronto. It's going to be a bitch working and going to school at the same time again but I hope it's work-intensive and keeps my mind off of other things. It was kind of a spontaneous idea but I handed over my credit card and am forking over the thousands of dollars to do this with (hopefully) no regret.
As for dance, I will start up dance classes again in addition to trying out for the Toronto Argonauts Cheerleading Team. Yep, a cheerleading team. Why, of all people, would I join a cheerleading team, where I will have to force a smile at every game (and practice) and lower my self-esteem even more by trying out with beautiful women (and friends) setting myself up for rejection? I don't know, I like to see how low I can go, I guess. But I like the dance aspect of it (not to mention the football part) and it sounds like fun. Even if I don't make it, at least I could say I once tried out for a cheerleading squad of a national team. Ha. This also means I have to 'workout' in the next couple of weeks because they require bare mid-drifts and tight ass-pants (notice I didn't say 'tight-ass pants'). Yay.
3. I need a car. As much as I like it and rely on it, public transportation will not be able to take me to all the things I want to do in the amount of time I have, in the different cities I have to be in. So, I am currently in the market for a vehicle. Preferably an Acura RSX, but I know these days, my luck never seems to see a good day. So any other non-ugly, non-Korean manual transmission automobile under $10k and no more than 4-years old car will suffice. Preferably in black or white. I've commissioned the services of Yuri (car fiend) and April (licensed car dealer) to help me find one. Let's hope I don't end up with a lemon. That reminds me: I gotta get my full license this Spring and master manual driving.
So yeah, I guess you could say big things will be poppin' for me, mainly because I have to force it. I hope all this work is worth it.
I can't waste time, so give it a moment
I realize, nothing's broken
No need to worry 'bout everything I've done
Live every second like it was my last one
Don't look back got a new direction
I loved you once, needed protection
You're still a part of everything I do
You're on my heart just like a tattoo
Thursday, March 06, 2008
I hate going to the doctor. But really, who does? Going to the doctor produces nothing but bad news and heavy feelings of worry. If we haven't received bad news yet, feelings of anxiety are just as bad as we wait on impending results of tests.
In case you can't tell, there's a lot of cynicism coming from me about doctors, and the medical field altogether.
I personally hate going to my doctor, because as far as I can remember, every time I do, I somehow somehow always need to get a needle. I mean, I like her as a person and doctor, but I somehow have a "GIVE HER A NEEDLE" written across my forehead. If it's not a booster shot, it's an immunization. If it's not an immunization, it's a blood test. WTF. I secretly think they 'talk' me into doing blood tests because they don't think it's fair that I hog my blood and refuse to donate voluntarily. Ha.
And in case you really can't tell, I absolutely hate getting needles. I recall the last time they tried to give me one and I screamed and screamed until my mother finally had to carry me out, probably mortified as she walked through the waiting room with a chicken shit of a child.
My doctor recently recommended I get a blood test done, especially since I haven't been to the doctors in ages, and it's about due time I 'donate' blood. I really didn't want to, but I figured if I didn't, it would be on my permanent medical record that I am difficult and contact Public Health or something. Whatever. I could've easily just said no (hey, who's going to force me?) but there is a part of me that is curious if there's anything internally wrong with me, aside from the emotional and karma part.
I guess it was good timing that I had to do this now, because I really feel like since I'm already feeling like I'm in the shits, there might as well be more piles of shit piled on me now because it doesn't make a difference. Nothing worse (at least for me) can be worse than having to go through this whole situation at all.
The day before I went to the lab, I psyched myself out about getting the needle. I give myself tons of papercuts everyday at work, and they hurt like a bitch, how much more can a needle hurt? Saying stuff like that to myself was probably not a good idea, because as soon as I got there and I was put in Room #1, and instantly I wanted to run.
I don't know what I would have done if Vicki and Peter didn't come with me. Peter waited in the Waiting Room but I made Vicki come in with me. I needed someone to tell me what to do. I needed someone to sit me down and not let me move until it was done. I needed someone to bring the doctor back into the room after I pissed her off with "bullshit anxiety" and refusal to go through with it. Most of all, I just needed someone. It sounds really tacky, but having to get that needle has never made me feel more alone. Weird, eh?
The saddest part was that there was a little girl waiting to get her shot done too, and apparently I had freaked her out a little because she (and everyone else) could hear my ranting from the Waiting Room. It took 20 minutes before I finally let the nurse do her thing. I made Vicki distract me with interesting gossip. I swear, I was letting Vicki distract me. but it didn't work. I still knew what was going on on my left arm, and I felt every second of it. Ugh. Anyway, it took me like 5 minutes to recover after it was done and still bitch about the needle and guess what? That little girl even left before I finished ranting and left the office. She was in and out and I was still in the lab bitching. I'm such a wuss.
In any case, it's done and over with. And now, it's probably the worst time for anyone after having bloodwork done: the wait for the results.
To be continued.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
I'm so ready for Spring now. Yesterday I went with the ladies (Nam, Yuri, Alex and Tom) and Mr. and Mrs. Doubov to Blue Mountain for what may very well have been the last bout of snowboarding for the winter season.
We had quite a bit of snowfall on Friday, so it made for really terrific snowboarding conditions yesterday and a great end to the season. I believe this is the most times I've gone snowboarding in one season ever, since I don't have school work to bog me down anymore. I'm really proud of myself and the way I have improved this year (even if others don't see it, I feel I've improved).It has come to be my 'therapy'. I prefer to go off on my own (while others take the terrains or prefer not to wait for me, or I not of them) and just exhaust my body and mind from anxiety while going what seems like 60 km an hour down a snowy hill that can very well meet my demise, despite wearing a helmet.
I guess you could say I improved myself because of everything that has gone on in my life recently, I have lost more inhibitions and am more willing to take risks (like go faster!!) and just close my eyes, just do it and not care what happens. I used to be really, really careful and too scared to go straight down and fast. Instead I would cascade my way down, slowly but surely. How about that? Some good comes out of everything.
I hope a new season brings some new change, especially for me. I really need it. Change of pace, change of scenery, change of everything!
My body is still sore, but I think I will go over to Jez's today and help her with her moving.