Thursday Bomb

Woahhhhhh - suddenly I'm supposed to leave on Thursday for Seattle and never, ever, come back?!

Yeah, leaving early to help Mom with the house hunting.

On the other hand, I find this old song rather "nice" - gotta love the bagpipe solo:

Rockin' Geoff

Geoffrey in his band, The Back Pages, rocked out at the Christmas Bazaar. Very proud. I think he's looks like Coldplay - that's a compliment, right?

Tarantula

Something I drew while waiting for ......something. Probably the bus, I forget what.

Also, some good, old-fashioned rocking out.

MY MILKSHAKE BRINGS

Maaaaaaaa  MILKSHAKE BRINGS ALL THE BOYS TO THE YAAAARD,

AND THEY'RE LIKE IT'S -

Look at my face - so smug.

And rightly so.

I PASSED MY DRIVING TEST!!!

Oh, and I hate that song.

BBC Merlin

Amanda introduced me to a show by BBC Drama: MERLIN. Now I can't stop watching it which is terrible because I have a driver's test tomorrow.

I knew the legend of King Arthur, but BBC took some artistic liberties in writing the script, so I was really surprised when "Merlin" showed up on screen, since I was expecting this:

Source: http://www.crystalinks.com/merlinsmile.jpg

Instead, I got this:

 

Source: http://img.listal.com/image/364813/180full-colin-morgan.jpg

Well, not that I'm complaining :)

Mildly Terrified

They're called CSS.

I watched their video and was mildly terrified and very intrigued. Not that that's unusual. Now I can't stop listening to their songs.




The thing about their MV is that it's so indie, it feels sloppy. It's so bad, it's kind of amazingly good. Ahh...CSS - it's like you understand me. At the same time I'm really embarrassed to admit that I like them.

Living the Dream

I drove out onto the REAL ROAD this morning. My instructor barely said a word, even when I felt like I was too close to the motorcycle to my left. I was beeped at, honked at, and the guy on the motorcycle gave me a dirty look - so I guess this morning was pretty good preparation for life in general.

Oh, and my top speed was 60 km/h. !!!!

I didn't even realise how fast I was going until I checked the speedometer, in the back of my head, I was reviewing some childhood memories and thought to myself, I've had a good life, but I'd like to live just a bit longer. So, I didn't go much faster than that.

My test is on the 25th and 26th - so I'm getting a bit nervous.


After my brush with death this morning, I went home and enjoyed some comedy from Ricky Gervais, one of my favorite comedians. He laughs like a trumpet. Love it.




I'm so proud of myself for figuring out how to post videos now.

YOU'RE WELCOME.

Gervais has a blog and podcast........Click Here

My Driving Instructor - a Bed Time Story with Justen

So far, driving is mostly fun - although I'm struggling with the forward/reverse S-shape lanes. 

I like driving, but I'm not that fond of my instructor. He's not a bad guy; he was never meant to be a teacher. That, and the fact that he has one annoying habit.

This is the best approximation to my instructor's face that I could find.

Earring included.

Namely, speaking his own dialect of English. Now, I'm not faulting him for having bad English - Mom teaches English, so I understand how most people have a tough time learning the language. But I do blame him for insisting on using English, when I made it clear that I could understand him perfectly in Chinese. This is kind of hazardous because now I have to decipher what he's saying AND concentrate on driving a car.

I have no idea why he doesn't just use Chinese.

Very confusing.

It was like when McCain announced his running-mate. 

On that particular Thursday, I knew I was going to finally conquer the S-lane.

Then I got stuck the a corner backing out.

 

Like this. But between two curving bits of concrete.

"B-but - how? -" I thought I was following instructions perfectly; I  thought I had timed that turn down to the last millisecond. I had no idea how I screwed up that backwards turn. If I went 1 metre backwards or forwards, the car was going to get scratched. My head is about to explode with pressure.

Before I can ask how I should get the car back on safe ground, my instructor wags his finger at me and starts going off:

"Ohhh! You meka wrong.

You loo 32 poin!

In test, no secca chan (no 2nd chance).

You unnasan (understand)?

You unnasan?

Can't do another affa wrong.

I think you no unnasan me; you unnasan?

You loo 32 poin. You turna too early!

You unnasan? You meka wrong again. This is 32 poin.

No secca chan!!

You unnasan?"

(And no, I'm not mocking the fact that he's Chinese.

That's retarded. I'm half Chinese.)

My mind is going a thousand miles a second (that's a lot) - I'm trying to figure out what went wrong, how I get out of here, and now my brain has to translate something that's half Chinese, half English.

I ask, "I'm sorry, but can we go back to Chinese?"

He heard, "Your barely-understandable brand of English is making my ears bleed."

He opens his mouth.

And a fist comes out to punch me in the face:

"Ms. Wang, you must understand that when you came

to register for classes that the desk workers judged you by

your appearance. They didn't know you could speak Chinese.

You must be sympathetic to the situation, because it is what is it.

It's because of your appearance that they paired you with

the English-speaking instructor on staff."

What, him?

"I used to have a Fillappina student and she couldn't

understand Chinese, so I had to use English. You have to

be more sympathetic, Ms. Wang...."

(Please remember that during all of this, WE ARE STILL STUCK)

I let him cool down, and of course I apologize to him with lots of sympathetic smiling. Finally, he turns, and looking straight forward he said, in Chinese, "3/4 left turn in slow reverse."

And like magic we became unstuck. We didn't speak much during the rest of the lesson. I was too terrified and he was too embarrassed.

That's the end of the story.

A story of coming of age, of exotic dialects, of bruised egos and hilarious tantrums.

A story that will last through the ages, I think.

The galaxy may implode, but my story will last.

I've learned that the most innocent words can sometimes bring the most insult.

But I know deep, deep, DEEP down, my instructor is a lovely man. I'm pretty sure.