Wednesday, 5 February 2014

Wandering onto my blog and writing a new post on an entirely new interface is definitely nostalgic, especially at 3 a.m., whilst working on my biology lab report. Can you believe it though? It's been a more than a couple years since I've last updated, and so much has happened since that post about the outdoor education center. I'm in an entirely new community with different people and different experiences and I'm going to school learning things that I love and it's just so crazy how life changes. Life changes so quickly and swiftly and subtly--and sometimes, even not subtly at all, sometimes it hits you in the face!--and yet, when you look back on the time that has passed, when you think of all that you've achieved between that time and now and whether or not the old you would've ever imagined anything like this at all, it's pretty wonderful.
Pretty interesting to see that a lot of my worries back then have completely faded from memory and that they've been replaced with new insight and new worry and new problems. That's a great thing to see. That not everything that feels so giant and overwhelming, will last forever.

I'm pretty inarticulate in the early hours of the morning. Gonna go finish off that report.
Night :)


Sunday, 30 October 2011

North.

It's been quite a long time since I last updated!
Sorry for that, I've been trying to adjust to my new school year.
Anyway, HELLO!

This post relates to an overnight biology trip I went on, to an Outdoor Education Centre in northern Ontario. If I had to summarize the trip using two words, I would only choose the following words with their complete and whole definitions in mind: knowledge, peace.
So, why those words?
Well, firstly, peace: When you first wake up, the middle of a forest of colour and frost and bare trees, the first and probably only thing you feel is inner peace. You forget any worries you carried with you back at home. Any burden is lost when you hike up those hills--it's like the fallen leaves scour (my new favourite word!) the hurt or pain or sadness right out of you. And you are left with an unnamed lovely feeling that aches with you, stays with you. Perhaps it may be because you are leaving in a couple days, and you are faced with that fact. Perhaps, though, it may be, because you are happy. You are happy, seeing the beauty of this natural phenomena--the protists hiding the nooks and crannies of bark and rotted leaves. You are happy, in this exclusive area with people you know and love. You are happy, hearing complete and thundering silence. You are happy, staying up in a perpetual sleepover with fantastic friends. That inner peace stayed with me for the length of the trip.
The second word, knowledge, was chosen for many reasons. I learned so much about my fellow classmates, my friends. With barely any time to ourselves, we had to let down our guards.
However, in another way, I also mean the word knowledge in the context of academia. There, we had workshops in which we could experience and live out these routines of wildlife biologists firsthand. We explored the woods and measured tree heights using equipment. We 'drilled' holes into the bark using a borer. We dug up 2 m deep holes into fens. We walked on boardwalks and stared in amazement at the water seeping through rotting wood in the marshes.

Very rarely do I ever get the chance to stray from the textbook-following, worksheet-completing routines of school. I am incredibly grateful of the chance to do. To learn by making, creating, doing. Putting words into action.

I experienced and explored and played and ran.
I gained both knowledge, and with luck, a little inner peace!

Friday, 26 August 2011

Wanderlust

Suzy, that is exactly what I want.
Except, I think that if I would go anywhere by myself, I'd go to France. Italy seems like a place I would love to explore with a friend, a place where everything is meant to be shared, whether in the beautiful scenery or the amazing architecture. In France, I would attempt at my Canadian-curriculum-basic-grade-10 French and laugh at myself with the people I would be talking to. I would climb the mountains and make friends along the way. Inside Le Louvre, I would whisper little facts to the person beside me, and write little poems on looseleaf paper and leave them on the benches or beside a painting. In the Chateau de Versailles, I would take millions of pictures and sit down outside and sketch everything I see, just to absorb it all. I would take all the brochures and the maps and twirl around in the courtyard and explore all the rooms, especially the Grande Appartement du Roi, in which the rooms are named after Roman gods and goddesses. I would go to the Notre Dame Cathedral and just admire. Soak in the beauty and take in the quietness of being alone, of being in solitude, and having the luxury of being anonymous. Of writing postcards in lonely cafes and people-watching by busy fountains.
Somehow, many humans have the belief that by escaping the routine of their current everyday life, they will find some sort of fulfillment by wandering somewhere else. I think that by changing where we are, being faced with difficulties and situations of panic or getting lost or being faced with a whole new environment, we ourselves can change. While we may get lost, physically, in this chaos of finding your bearings in a city; we are found, in how we are faced with getting to know ourselves.

Sunday, 21 August 2011

The Amateur Foodie!

As I promised one of my best friends, Kyleen, that I would post something soon, I decided to post about one of my burgeoning hobbies: cooking. After I decided that I would lead more of a healthy lifestyle (which didn't much change from my usual lifestyle, as we eat at home basically every day, and rarely go out for fast food), I also decided that I would help my family by preparing more for dinner, so that we could eat earlier.
In the past couple of days/weeks, I've prepared simple things such as pita bread stuffed with melted cheese and salsa (from a jar) and onions, peppers and celery (not from a jar!); fried rice with peas, carrots, corn and eggs, etc.
Today, I spotted a milk carton lookalike, and took it out of the fridge for closer inspection. It read "EGG WHITES".
As, from my time spent on websites devoted to healthy eating and healthy foods, I knew that egg whites were full of protein and were fulfilling, I raced to my computer to find some tips on how to cook egg whites.
I searched up some photos, and most of them were of beautifully cooked omelets, full of healthy and wonderful looking vegetables.
Immediately inspired, I started rummaging through my refrigerator for any vegetables. Now, for some reason, we are short on vegetables (which, I swear, is a rare occurrence!), and I only found an onion and a couple stalks of celery. That was okay. I put the egg whites back into the fridge and began chopping away at the celery and the onions. (Sorry, by the way, about the quality, all these were taken by my webcam. I can't find a camera that has charged batteries in it.)
Then, I brought out the cheese slices. (Yes, can you believe it? We used cheese slices! For you seasoned foodies out there, you must be dying of laughter. Ah well.)
I first cooked the onions and celery, put it aside, and used a paper towel to absorb what oil remained on it.
I then used the pan to cook egg whites. As it bubbled, the five-year-old in me giggled, because it looked "like it (was) aaaaaaaaaaaliiiiiiiveeeeeee!"
Since I used the entire carton, I waited until it formed a giant layer (See, I don't know the terminology. Please, stick with me here) before I added in the onions and celery. Then came the slices of cheese, divided into three parts (which was relatively easy, because, you know, they are cheese slices.). When everything seemed right, I used the wooden spatula to flip it over, to create the kind of omelet I saw in the pictures.
Unfortunately, it was a flop. No, literally. It flopped back onto the pan (luckily) and suddenly it went from a beautiful potential omelet to a scrambled egg.
I think I did something wrong. (Ya think, Jennifer? Ya think?)
Anyway, I laughed hysterically at my little scrambled mess and finished cooking it.
I eventually made this: ---------------------------->
It may not look that good, due to my shaky hands, my cardboard background (held in place by my mouth) and my webcam, but it definitely tasted PRETTY DARN GOOD, IF I MUST SAY.
I just need more, you know, help on the making-the-omelet-actually-become-an-omelet part. That's all.

VERDICT: My verdict is that I think I ended up with a bit too much flavour, because of the cheese and the salt I added to the onions and peppers before I added them into the mix. I think this kind of concoction would be better served with something a bit less flavourful, and a little more bland, like rice, or whole grain bread. I was a bit too enthusiastic to finish something that was both healthy and pretty good and created by yours truly. My dad liked it--he said that it was "neat" and "Hey! It's actually pretty good!".
My mom doesn't like cheese, but altogether she said that she enjoyed it.
I may not be a professional chef, and I am starting out now (unlike many others who started when they were, you know, eight), but that they liked it, was good enough for me. :)

Thursday, 21 July 2011

Happyness.

Hm. I haven't updated in a long time. Which isn't, you know, weird or anything, because not many people read this, if any at all. But anyways.
Suzy, I completely understand what you mean, in your post named "AM I HAPPY?" Throughout these past couple of years, I have felt that way too. I was dissatisfied in some ways that I was dealing with life; yet in others, I feel so much gratitude to all the blessings that I am and have been given. I understand what you mean about not knowing what that middle-word is.

I mean, if one is not laughing, or crying, what are they feeling? What is the emotion that they are experiencing? How is it that there seems to be no real word for it? But it depends on your definition. Let's not go by dictionary definition for a second-let's go by what we think when we characterize ourselves as happy. What do we feel then?
My definition of happy, means that I am given a chance to fully appreciate life and what it has given me. It doesn't mean that I must necessarily be laughing or smiling, or outwardly showing any happiness of any kind. My definition of happy could be walking downtown, staring into tiny shops; it could be walking down an aisle looking for my favourite cereal. It could be drawing or sketching a useless, badly-done piece of art; it could be staring into the sky, simply thinking. Alone with my thoughts. Surrounded by what my life is to me. It could be writing, right now, thinking about what happiness means to me. Since that is what my definition is, that's why I choose to make a list of things that make me happy, in my head, every day.
So. I shall follow through with that. Just little things. Anything.
  1. I was asked to be my boss's "personal assistant" today. While that required physically running (literally. Like, I was sweating in a completely COLD, air-conditioned office), I really enjoyed it. It gave me a chance to see what he does and what kind of things he deals with while he's about his work.
  2. I talked on the phone about everything my best friend and I did and did not do, and I read my old journals and notebooks out loud to her. (:
  3. My parents listened to my choice in restaurant, which rarely happens.
  4. We had a delightful dinner. I ate this type of chicken cooked a certain way that I usually don't eat at other restaurants, and it was the first time I thought it tasted good.
  5. I updated my "journal" about everything I thought about.
  6. I'm writing this blog right now.
  7. My brother and I skipped down the parking lot like little kids.
  8. I sang campfire songs with my parents on the way home from dinner.
  9. I worked on a couple of presents I'm intending on giving my best friends.
  10. I laughed hysterically (no, seriously. HYSTERICALLY, I SAY.) with my brother about this stupid joke I made about the song "My Heart Will Go On" and the words "are gone" and the element of the periodic table "Argon".
In my opinion, no, it doesn't have to be an indication of joy. I don't need to be laughing or specially with friends for happiness to happen to me. It's just whatever makes me happy to be alive, or whatever I find is wonderful and sets the day apart from any other.
I don't know. I didn't much help, I know that. Hehe.
But yep.

Monday, 4 July 2011

eleven-minute poem,

this topic was chosen courtesy of Suzaaaay! (:

softly, slowly, subtly, veins and chloroplast falling apart
margin, petiole, edges and blades,
slicing through the blood-like air, dense and dark and neat and
running.
roots, tunnels to let free insecurities and tears and floodwater
trichomes to brush away, phyllosphere to house inside,
tendrils to extend and conquer and climb up these chilly wooden walls
of this chilly wooden house
where people inside are all chilly, wooden people.
they don't move, they don't cry, they don't extend;
but I need a place to move, to cry, to extend.
but I need a place to free insecurities and tears and floodwater,
so
save me a place
inside this collection of mesophyll and phloem.
save me a spot.

Tuesday, 28 June 2011

A little detour!

Instead of updating everyone who reads this little train trip into my mind on the psychology of language, which I will be coming back to, in my next few posts, I will talk today, about what I learned from my road trips up north as a kid.

I used to go on road trips up north a lot, and every single time we'd pass a visitor's site, we'd pile out of the car to get a glimpse of the view. Sometimes, we'd see these, and I'd always press my parents to give me a couple dollars to pop into the viewing machine to see what truly lurked in the forests, or along the horizon. They always shook their heads and said that it wasn't even worth it, that it would be better just to really see for myself why it was so special. One time, they gave me the amount of money needed to look into these, and I ran away to push the dollars into the machine. But once I looked through, it was somewhat of a disappointment. Sure, it let me get a close-up view, but I couldn't see everything. I could only see out-of-focus details, not what made up the beauty that was in front of me. So yes, seeing the big picture, seeing how everything melted fantastically in front of me, was worth so much more than just seeing the little things, than just magnifying the tiny details and getting them out of focus anyway.
What I mean to say by this, is, that sometimes we should just look up, get out from under these machines, and just look at a situation, or just look at our world around us, for ourselves. For the sake of our happiness, for the sake of stopping and smelling the roses. To just straighten up and view something for what it is, and to stop poring over the slightest detail, when perhaps it is nothing but trivial. To fully appreciate what we have, and to look at the full picture before immediately judging others or ourselves, or instantaneously feeling the need to prove and solve a problem ourselves. Maybe we just need a tiny step back... Maybe we need to stop and smell these roses.