Category Archive: flashback

Nostalgia for knowledge

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Sun. March 14, 2010

Earlier this afternoon, I was over at my parents hauling a set of heavy books over from there place to my condo. They were looking to clear up some stuff and create some space. I was happy to oblige, but taking that many big books over to my place proved to be hard work. It took me a good number of trips between the basement and my place to get everything upstairs. No matter though because those books have a bit of nostalgic value for me.

So, what’s with these books? Back in 1990, my aunts from New York kindly gave me a gift that I found entirely useful through elementary and early high school. They bought me a full leather bound set of Encyclopedia Britannica. Gosh, I loved that set; it saved me many times during various research projects. Eventually, the research projects became less frequent. Eventually I stopped using the books altogether. For the past few years, the set has just sat there at my parent’s place collecting dust. Sure, it looks handsome and rather classy, but that’s all, right? Ever since the Internet really took off, having the physical books on hand hasn’t been that important. I mean, when it comes to recent topics the books don’t have fully up-to-date information. All of the knowledge held within is pretty much a snapshot of the state of things way back then. That being said, for topics that are static, the books are still accurate. Thing is, it’s often simpler just to look things up online, right?

Anyway, the books are on a shelf in my bedroom; hey might actually make for good reading before bed on occasion. They may be slowly losing their relevancy, but the personal worth of each volume will hold.

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If I hadn’t stepped out of the bubble

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Sun. January 17, 2010

I was just reflecting on this a little bit earlier. Some days I wonder what life would be like if I continued living a somewhat cowardly existence by continuing to put up with the people who made me feel inferior, or like there was something fundamentally wrong with me. I think back then all I wanted was a little approval. Really, isn’t that what all of us want? In the end, we all just want people to like us for who we are. And yet, years ago, I was in some situation where I just didn’t feel right.

Back then, due to circumstance I was always the odd one out. It’s hard when everyone else is working on one thing and you’re off in your own world toiling away on things that they couldn’t care less about. It was in this environment that I was trying to find a way in. Despite my serious nature, in a home setting I’m easy enough to get along with. My will to please was running rampant. In particular, there was one person with whom I used to be close with, but over time it turned into personal rejection after personal rejection. Despite this, I didn’t really realize right away that my life didn’t have to revolve around these people. Looking back, my heart kind of breaks for that old Jason. Poor, poor fool.

It wasn’t until a chance encounter, and invitation to watch Idol with people that I didn’t know that well, that it dawned on me that life outside of the bubble was entirely possible. I realized that there are people out there that could possibly accept me in all of my eccentric and maladjusted glory. That’s when I started extricating myself from the poison. Case in point that no one really cared: I haven’t received any contact at all from any one of those old people. Sure, communication is a two way street, but I’m not letting them off the hook. Seeing as how the relationship was lopsided away from my favour, I’m not the one that needs to reach out. Screw that.

So, if I had stayed in that situation, I would be a totally different person that I am today. First of all though, I question whether I would have been able to put up with all that for much longer than I did. I surely think I’d be more messed up than I already was. I have a need for people to like me. Without having that need fulfilled, I think I’d mentally feel like a total failure. I’d still be trying hard to please them. The level of absurdity of the lengths I’d go would probably be higher. Overall, I don’t see myself being content, and depression would have sunk in long ago.

Enough of that though. Yes, all of that is very doom and gloom isn’t it? Let me state that I’ve very glad that I stepped out of that realm. If it wasn’t for that, I might not have gotten closer with friends that eventually became future roommates. I might not have had the improvements in my grades that I was able to achieve since my mind would have been occupied elsewhere. I would not have bonded so strongly with my university classmates because instead of spending time in the labs I would have been in the unit with the others. I am so fortunate that I have these connections with classmates; some of them are still going strong after all these years. More than anything, I’m glad that I was able to find myself. I was able to realize that I am worth my time. I am hardly broken; I am unique. I suppose then that the experiences I had before do serve a purpose after all. They’ve made me stronger and more confident in myself.

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The last of nine

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Thu. November 5, 2009

nlphst.jpgEverything is changing around me at work!

Yeah, I know I’ve been making a lot of veiled comments about my various situations on this blog, and for the most part all of the comments still hold. This storm clouds still loom overhead, but at the moment the rain has let up a little bit. Anyway, that’s not what this post is all about! No, this post relates back to something that was posted about 2.5 years ago.

OK, so around that time in 2007, the Simpsons Movie had come out, or was about to come out (to be honest, I totally forgot). One of the tools on the movie’s website was a widget to create Simpsons versions of whoever you wanted. It wasn’t long before one of our team members decided to create Simpsons versions of everyone.

Do you remember that post? Maybe? Well before you click here to go back, do you remember which of these 9 characters was apparently representative of me? I still think it’s mildly obvious, but whatever. We’ve already touched on that in the old post.

So, we have a print out of this image posted on the cork board in our area. Over time, as people left the team, that person or someone else would ceremoniously draw a big red X over their avatar. In the past few months, we were reduced to just three of these original members. Then two were left: me and one other person. Well, as of tomorrow, the other person is leaving the team. At the end of today, he took the image down, grabbed a fat red marker and crossed out his image. And there I was, the only one left on the image, still unscathed.

No, I’m not crowing. I’m not necessarily happy or sad that I’ll be the last of the group. Heck, it’s not even like I’ll be on my own–a couple of other people have been hired over time, right? Still, in my mind the symbolism is sort of strong.

It’s truly the end of an era. I really respect the guy that’s leaving tomorrow. I won’t be alone in handling things when he leaves, but there definitely will be added pressure on me to perform at a slightly higher level. As the last guy standing…I guess I have no choice.

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The necktie rebellion

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Fri. September 18, 2009

Being a student at a Catholic high school meant that I had to wear a uniform. Really, I think for someone like me it was a godsend (pardon the joke, I suppose) since I didn’t have to worry about what I had to wear, or having to stick out like a sore thumb for not fitting in whatever norms were in place at the time. Hell, given my track record in elementary, I know it would have been a daily shit fest. The uniform was sort of like a bit of equalizing armour wrapped in a cardigan. I figure that when I was starting out it helped me not be prejudged by other people. For someone nerdy like me it at least levelled things out.

The uniform was rather simple. It consisted of a white shirt, slacks or a kilt, and the maroon sweater (or approved black sweatshirt). I remember back then the uniform was always a flashpoint between the administration and the students. I’m sure it’s still that way today, but my memories are from a decade ago. Shirts always had to be tucked in. Girls’ kilts had to be an appropriate length. As a point of rebellion the girls would always hike them up as high as decency would allow–sometimes past, I guess. There are stories of vice-principals roaming the halls with rulers ready to measure just how far the kilts went above the knees. If anyone wore pants, they had to be charcoal grey slacks. I remember a friend of mine tried to get away with some same colour rose stitching on the legs of her pants. As much as they blended in, I remember her fear of being caught. Ridiculous! Why try to exert your individuality over something that you don’t really have much control over? Aren’t there other ways to stand out?

It’s probably expected, but I didn’t do anything to fly against the rules. Why would I? There was no need to get the administration on my ass, right? Well, my memory is entirely hazy on what happened, but my attitude changed on that front one day. At some point I began wearing a necktie with my uniform. I don’t recall the exact point that I started doing so back in high school, but it must have been late in Grade 11 or right in Grade 12. I wasn’t consciously giving admin the middle finger with it. There was no revolutionary statement that I was trying to make. Frankly, I think I just wanted to wear a tie. I was the only one. It wasn’t part of the uniform, but I don’t think there was a rule against it. I wasn’t doing anything that was trying to make the uniform casual or disrespectful, so really none of the teachers could bean me on it. The tie became my thing.

So, why am I having flashbacks to that period of my life? Well, over the past month I’ve been watching some old DVDs that someone gave to me of an anime from the late 90s. The main character for this show is a girl who insists on wearing a boys’ uniform to school. This is due to the fact that she wants to emulate someone she met long ago as a little child. She keeps pointing out that there’s not rule against it, but the counsellors keep harassing her about it. Anyway, somewhere late in the series they talk about another character who gained respect in school by carrying herself with an air of dignity, and doing things for herself and not for the attention of others. I kind of carried that to my experiences. The tie wasn’t for anyone but myself.

I’m not saying the tie gained me any respect, but perhaps it helped. It really wasn’t until late Grade 11 and Grade 12 that I recall feeling like I was coming into my own. Before that I was still trying to find my way around to see if I fit into any groups. Really, that endeavour was a spectacular failure, thankfully. And I say “thankfully” because if I had found a group I think I would have lost out on learning self-reliance. By the later grades it just wasn’t as important anymore. I didn’t really fit in anywhere and was more of a floater. So I ended up just having a “take me for who I am” air about me as I really focused on my academics. Hopefully it’s not imagined, but all of that gained me some respect. Perhaps the tie vaulted me to a place where I was suddenly beyond judgment. I honestly don’t know…

These days, I’m long removed from times where I had to wear prescribed clothing. Even so, upon reflecting on these days gone by I realize that there are lessons that I can apply today. I no longer have to don a necktie to get respect. I know though that maintaining my dignity can go a long way to moulding how others perceive me. Also, continuing to do things for myself and not for the approval of others just commands respect that can’t be picked up any other way.

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The long winding path

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Mon. September 7, 2009

I guess, due to the nature of the things Labour Day just ends up marking the end of one parcel of time and the start of a new one. Somehow, even after all this time, the thought of this day still dredges up memories of high school back-to-school jitters, the mental determination to perform, and the freshness of the school uniform after not having worn it for months. I can still imagine the maroon cardigan and the smell of starch in my ironed shirt. Back then, that was my life. I had nothing else to do than to study hard and to get the grades. I don’t think I even had a concept of having good grades getting me into the right universities. No, for the longest time I just did my best in my classes because that’s what school was all about. In some sense, it was all kind of like a game, wasn’t it? Life was simple in that regard.

Fast forward to today, now. Here I am thinking about my career and how I should be positioning myself. I’m wondering about how I should be furnishing my own place, and about what types of maintenance I should be doing around here during these precious days off. I was happy to have time to tidy up. Is that so wrong? I’m pondering my social statuses, and what I can do to present myself in better lights. All of these are such adult concerns. When the heck did all of that really start kicking in?

Seriously. It all kind of just sneaks up on you. It starts off with one thing, then another, and another. All of a sudden you realize that you’re pretty much an adult. I guess it’s sort of like boiling frogs, right? If you dump a frog in hot water, it’ll jump right out. If you put it in room temperature water and slowly crank up the heat the frog won’t jump out.

…or so they say.

If it all came crashing down on me all at once I’d probably freak out and buckle under the weight of it all. As it is, I can kind of shrug it off, thinking “Yeah, that’s what life is like. I’ll deal.” I guess I’m fortunate that my life took the long winding path that it took. It’s not that I wouldn’t have survived if I was forced to mature much earlier, but…at this point I can’t imagine my life turning out any other way, you know?

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Nomadic

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Wed. August 5, 2009

You know, due to the nature of the engineering program I was in (back in the day), I’m not really a stranger to moving. Back then, my schedule was such that I had four months of studying then four months of work. This cycle repeated over and over for six years. Each time I had to switch I had to pick up all of my gear and lug it all 90 minutes down the highway. Over time, I became really efficient at making the move. Back in 2000, during my first few moves I basically took anything and everything. It resulted in a minivan load or two. By 2006, I got everything to fit into my car. That’s just the way things went.

I’m just mentioning all of this because this moving process that I’m going through right now reminds me of those days a great deal. The big difference this time is that I’m not supposed to pack light. This is a case where I have to pack just about everything. While doing so, I have to also pack efficiently such that I can carry most of my things in minimal car loads. I’m trying to transfer as much as I can today, but I also recognize that I can leave some stuff behind to pick up another time. It’s tough striking a balance. I’ve heard stories of people taking months to fully move out. I’d prefer to not drag it out, honestly.

Well, the process is now under way. Wish me luck.

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Prayers, wishes, and thanksgiving

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Sun. June 28, 2009

Just another lazy Sunday today. Back on Thursday, at the end of the work day I emailed a document I was working on to myself in hopes that I’d work on it some point between Friday and today. Well…at least I had good intentions. Thing is, I know very well that I was unlikely to spend time at home working on it. It would have been a different story if I was far from being finished, but no, the document has decent progress on it. There are also some open questions against the project that need to be answered before I write about them, so I would have been stalled anyway

Funny how I seem to be attempting to justify it.

meiji prayer boards Anyway, since I’ve got nothing much I figure I’d pick a picture that showed up in the “Random from Viewport” widget on the right and give a few words on it. I ended up choosing a picture from my trip to Japan in June 2006. On one of my first days in Tokyo, me and a couple of travel companions headed over to the beautiful Meiji Shrine complex on the west side of the city. If I recall, it’s pretty much adjacent to Harajuku station and a short walk to Takeshita-dōri which is that fashion forward place that Gwen was going on about in her pop albums. It’s accessible from the JR Yamanote line via Harajuku station, or the Tokyo Metro Chiyoda line from Meiji-Jingūmae station, which can be translated as “in front of Meiji Shrine.” How descriptive.

Anyway, Meiji Shrine is a Shinto shrine. This is where you would go to pay respects to Emperor Meiji and Empress Shōken. What’s pictured here is a part of the complex where there are a huge number of these wooden plaques. These are called ema. You would buy these ema prayer boards and then write a prayer or a wish or some form of thanks on them. You then hang these boards on a designated rack. Now, what’s pictured here is just one rack, but at the Shrine there are many more racks right next to this one. These are meant to communicate with the spirits. Now, when you consider the fact that these boards hold what amount to the hopes, dreams, and wishes of thousands of people, it’s an extremely powerful symbol.

I’m not planning on heading back to Tokyo anytime soon. However, if I somehow found myself there again at the big Meiji Shrine I would buy an ema. What would I write on it? I would pray for peace. I would wish for someone to come into my life to change my life for the better. Most of all, I would give thanks for all of the blessings I have in my life: family, a place of my own, a job, and nice things. I wonder if that’d all fit. Guess I’d just have to write smaller.

Hey, so what would you write on an ema prayer board?

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Revisiting the early days of the blog

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Tue. June 23, 2009

Over at 20SB every now and then they have this Blog Carnival thing where they get people to submit a blog post on a certain topic. Then, the powers that be pick a few entries (based on some unknown criteria) and “publish” them out. I’ve submitted a post or two before but they never got picked. How’s now going to be any different? Well, it probably won’t be. I’m just doing it for free ice cream (if it hasn’t already run out). What? Ice cream?

Disclosure: This post is a part of 20SB’s Looking Back Blog Carnival, and Ben & Jerry’s is awarding free ice cream to lucky bloggers and readers!

The topic? Well, this time around they wanted people to pick out a post from the first two months of the archives of their blog. Those who know the history of my blog will know that I actually started writing back in April 2002, but lost everything in a database accident of sorts. So, my archives only go as far back as February 2003. I looked back at stuff I still have, and man, I complained a lot back then. I suppose it’s not like I’ve stopped complaining now, but, apart from my occasional emo periods, the tone is a heck of a lot more positive. A few years of experience really does go a long way. Back in February 2003, I was 22 years old and still finding my feet. At the time I was on a work term and commuting a lot. My family and I were in the process of moving from an apartment by the Don Valley Parkway to our current house. At the new house, I had dislocated my kneecap. Yikes! There’s a picture of my leg in a brace here.

The stuff I wrote back then was largely observational and rather random. When I read it now, some bits just feel manic. There was a bit of a lack of focus. I wonder why that’s the case. Maybe these days I feel like I’ve got more of a sense of purpose such that when I write I’ve got some sort of driving force guiding things. I don’t know. Maybe Twitter has changed the game somewhat. I mean, back then I got away with writing entries like this:

Excuse me…what is it with people looking at my crotch?

Ha! No kidding, eh? It’s gotten to the point where I can weed out the random thoughts, post the appropriate ones as tweets, then have a clean blog post.

Anyway, what post did I choose? Well, with a two month time frame the pickings are kind of slim. In the end I picked a post that kind of shows the fact that even if my writing lacked focus back then, my writing style was always kind of verbose, eccentric, but vivid when I allow myself to let the mind wander. I also already had a good knack for making random thoughts kind of flow into a nice train of thought. The title of that old post is: Wish I had my camera. It was posted on February 4, 2003.

It’s been one of those mornings where I wish I had my camera with me.

I got on the elevator feeling tired and sick. All the other flu symptoms that I’ve been lacking have finally caught up to me. I have a sore throat, I’m achy, I’m a bit dizzy…but I’m still going to work. I’m resolved to stay in my cubicle though. Lucky my boss isn’t here today. Anyway…

Back to the elevator. As I got off the elevator on the first floor, here I was shocked to see this line of brand new toilets sitting in a row down the hallway. It was quite the sight. You’d think you were in some sort of wongo dream or something. There were just so many. I know that the building will be upgrading plumbing fixtures in the next month, so that explains why it was all there.

Today, walking to the bus stop I had to deal with the effects of freezing rain. The sidewalks were still covered with snow yesterday. The temperature became quite mild causing things to melt a bit. It then started raining causing even more melting. By this morning, it had all frozen over again causing a hellish walk to the stop. This guy in front of my decided to walk on the road. I started to do so but I felt my feet slipping every step or two. I didn’t want to end up slipping and falling at an inopportune time causing me to be crushed by a vehicle. In the end I ended up walking through the snowy grass.

Now, because of the rain the snow was quite crunchy making the walk tougher than usual. On top of that I had to keep a close eye on the ground for piles of dog shit. Now, I don’t know what’s wrong with some dog owners, but if your pet happens to pinch a loaf in the snow it will not disappear when the snow melts. I saw lots of turds, uncrushed, and crushed by unfortunate souls who had to walk on the side like me. I thought I had successfully avoided the land mines, but then when I sat down on the second bus I could smell this faint odour of urine or fecal matter. Man, was I self-conscious. Luckily, it wasn’t me…which leaves me to question the hygiene of some of the people whom I ride with.

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