I was born and raised in Vancouver, but working and being an employee in a Western society is still bizarre to me. I've been conditioned by Chinese culture to respect my elders, not only because they are older and wiser, but also because kids can only redeem their comparitive lack of worth by offering their complete obedience. I was taught not to bother people older than me because they have more important things they'd rather deal with. I do not dialogue with Chinese elders so much as I listen and am lectured by them.

And yet, when I speak to my bosses now at the CBC, not only do they pay attention to what I say, but they also converse back. It is still strange to me that they would invest thought into a conversation with me.

Because really, what do they gain from doing so? I'm a student, I'm nineteen, my looks are average at best, and I'm paid to smile and to hand out flags. Even though Ambassadoring pays more than what I get at EB, it's still an entry level job at the CBC. I am at the bottom of the chain, a replacable, disposable worker.

 

Yesterday I spoke with Ian Hanomansing (host of CBC Vancouver's evening news) in the stairwell at work. I do street team work outside the building handing out CBC flags and pins, and when I promote Ian's work to women passing by they always swoon and call him Ian HandsomeMan-Sing.

He was clearly on his way to somewhere but since we were alone I didn't want to be awkward and rude by ignoring him. 

"So are you done for the night?" I asked, even though I knew he wasn't. I had, after all, been required to memorize his broadcasting schedule.

He stopped and turned towards me to reply, but he did more than just answer my question. All he said was that he had still to go back on the air, but he stopped fully and turned towards me to say it. The conversation lasted all of 20 seconds, but I felt him speak to me. He was focused and present. I didn't feel like I was a waste of his time.

The saying goes that we have to respect our elders. No one ever said they were required to give respect back.

-------------------------------------------------------

Ian is shorter than he looks and his co-host Gloria Macarenko is even prettier in real life : )

I saw Peter Mansbridge today at work and he nodded at me! I don't even particularly like the National but I was so starstruck!

P.S. Mr. Mansbridge wears glasses and normal clothes when he's not on-air : )

 

Jian Ghomeshi is doing a meet and greet on the streets of CBC Vancouver as I type. It's a pity I'm not working right now, but I am working during his show in Thursday. So far I've been lucky enough to sit in at two live concerts so hopefully I will get to usher in Jian's recording session as well!

sexyyyy milk monologue ; )

So far all I've done is hand out flags and pins and shuffle people in and out of the building for concerts. We're on our feet for eight hours of the day, the work is completely brainless, and sometimes you get some rude weirdos. But I am completely enamoured with my job. I am so privledged to be allowed to smile at strangers on the street and to get to give them free stuff. I am so lucky to get to be close to the CBC and to get to publicly proclaim my love for it. It's just a stupid temporary, student, entry-level job, but I can't enough of it. For every person that ignores you on the street, ten more will take your stuff and say thank you. Others will stop and tell you how much they love the CBC. Some will wave the flags and then run around cheering for Canada. Sometimes I even join in myself : )

Someone on the streets said to me this afternoon, "I love your enthusiasm for the CBC!" I worked the day shift today, and as the evening Ambassadors were starting their work I made sure to wish them all a good time.

"You can tell she's at the end of her shift," said Rosie to the others. "She's so cheerful and bubbly." But I had felt like that all day - it's work itself that's making me so happy and present and self-aware. I love what I do. Right now, my feet hurt, I'm so tired I'm starting to feel awake, and work ended only 7 hours ago. And can you believe it - I actually miss being there.

I know now that I'll always have to do public sector PR work. I love and I need people like that.

The thing about loving something however, is that you become attached, and consequently, afraid of losing whatever it is you had. There's still about 10 more days of work left, but I can see the end already. It's going to be over before I know it. All I can do now is to cherish every moment.

No, I'm kidding. But almost not.

I've been eating lots of neen goh (Brown Sugar cake; traditional Chinese New Year food) for like a week now, and then yesterday I ate a lot of these (click picture for recipe):

 

I've never made chocolate cupcakes before (the trick is to add espresso powder!), and Trumon didn't like the cream cheese in cream cheese green tea icing, so I had to test out all the beta stuffs. (There was a lottt of beta stuffs. It's hard to make piped icing look pretty!)

Yesterday I had my first CBC midnight shift, and then I didn't sleep much afterwards cause I had to teach piano in the morning. The combination of sweets + no sleep + no exercise proved too much for me, cause I woke up feeling like shit. It's probably the closest thing I've had to a hangover. Who knew there was such a thing as a sugar hangover? It's funny how eating sweets drains more energy than it adds. God I hate sugar. I need to give up fatty junk and start eating more vegan again. Too bad I know how to bake more than I know how to cook.

--------------------------------------------------

Oh and here's a random Trumon pic:

 

My sixth grade teacher was named Alin. He was maybe 39, and bald. He biked to work, had a lazy eye, and wore plain tshirts with suspenders and track pants. Unlike the other grade six instructor (who flirted with Natalie, our student teacher), Alin mostly kept to himself. He wasn't unkind, but I don't remember ever having seen him smile.

None of these traits bothered me though; I knew he was different, but I never felt the need to judge. I was forced to, however, when I overheard Emma, one of the popular girls, say that she didn't like Alin.

I didn't understand what she meant at first. How could she not like Alin? What was there to like, or to not like? He was the teacher, we were the students; there was nothing we needed to consider beyond that. I explained the significance of ga jie or "Big Sister" in an older post, and the Asian concept of Teacher isn't much different. Lao si (teacher), like ga jie, is someone whom you admire simply because that's the role in which they've been introduced to you. You learn from your lao si, you obey and are pleasant to them. I was so guai as a child that I respected my elders completely, blindly. It never occured to me that you didn't have to like your teachers.

-----------------------------------------------

It's not uncommon to see kids wandering around by themselves in EB Games. A lot of the times, parents will leave them alone in the store with only the PS3 demo console for a babysitter.

I was telling a small boy the other day that he couldn't continue playing because his parents weren't in the store. Most kids will then become rude and/or angry, but this child was very little, and he opened his eyes wide and insisted that he wasn't breaking any rules, that his dad was just outside. I had to confront him a second time before he ran out to fetch his father, but during none of this time did he direct any animosity towards me.

Which leads me to conclude that clashes don't happen because of different personalities or whatever. Evil isn't inherent like that. People have to be taught how to hate one another. And that's how we first lose our innocence.

------------------------------------------------------------

JC said once that one of the rewards of being a salesperson is getting revenge on bad customers by getting them to buy expensive crap they don't need. This works best with electronics, since most people on the other side of the counter don't understand the functions of the machinary that they buy.

I had my first really bad retail experience the other day. I always expected it'd come from a little Asian mom, but actually it was an old, angry white guy (but not like frail, old white guy. He was tall and broad). He was yelling quite loudly at me in the store: red face and bulging eyes and everything. It should have been quite threatening, but all I felt was annoyance, like one would for a small fly. I didn't freak out or get angry, and of course I didn't. After having been yelled at by an Asian mom, to think this guy could bother me was just laughable. 

It used to hurt to think that my parents could hate me so much, but after awhile you stop caring about what they think. I've had so much practice staying silent and still and shutting things out while having insults hurled my way. You become desensitized in order to take the abuse.

And you have to be a little desensitized to work where I do. I wouldn't get half as many warranty sales if I wasn't able to blatantly lie to people's faces. I wanted to work at EB because I wanted to talk to and meet people, but it turns out we treat them more like walking wallets (which I think is a legitimate judgement if you can afford video games). For awhile I was seriously conflicted with this realization, but I got over it quickly becuase I had to suck it up and do my job. I've sold more warranties than ever.

My soul is sold, but I need monies =( I'm learning a lot and my managers are wonderful, but I hope to never work in the private industry again.

So Asian kids take heart! All the abuse from your parents is making you into good little salesmen.

 

 

Digi doesn't have a stellar warranty sales rate - and I'm glad. It's good to know that someone could still remain honest after working there so long.

-------------------------------------

Sorry for the emo post =( I've actually been having a great week, but someone I care about was disrespectful towards me today.

I wonder how this person who is rude to their parents in front of guests, who tells me to my face that I'm ugly, who talks about his crush in terms of 'hotness' instead of personality, who openly makes dirty jokes on the skytrain (in front of a mother with a stroller, no less!) can hope to ever keep a girlfriend. It's funny how people think they're nice guys when they're really not. It makes me especially grateful to be with Digi.

I'm not desensitized enough towards them to not be bothered by it. You shouldn't dwell on negatives, but you can either feel sorry for yourself or stop caring for the other person, and I don't want to give up on people. I try so hard to like everyone, and I can't understand when they refuse to do the same back.

But some things you can't shut out. I'm going to go sleep it off.

I stand strongly against the use of Footprints. We hate the idea of having federal or corporational monitoring of our internet usage, so why is it okay if it's members within the same community who are putting surveillance on one another? Having a Footprints lock discourages people from clicking around your Xanga. Most people blog because they want to be read, so by monitoring our Footprints, we are doing ourselves a disservice. I think it's terrible that Xanga made a feature for the purpose of letting us spy on one another.

I have two Xangans on my subscriptions list that require me to leave Footprints, but now that they don't update anymore, I'm going to turn Footprints off. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was sure the interview had been a terrible failure, so I haven't since mentioned it here or to anyone one else. But despite being super nervous and despite having massively smudged mascara (raccoon eyes, yum), apparently I was still coherent enough for the interviewer to consider hiring me!

Which leads me to wonder, what are interviewers really looking for?

I don't mean all the cliché stuff that they tell you in co-op preparation. Obviously interviewers want candidates who are smart and experienced and who smell nice. But I don't think I came across as that smart (I was too nervous) and I'm definitely not that experienced (daycamp leader and retail sales associate).

The only thing that could've possibly made me stand out, the only thing that was really memorable about the interview was me dorking out at the interviewer. I won't call it being cute because that sounds cheap, and anyway that wasn't my intention, but basically I goofed around a bit and I even managed to make the Eric (the interviewer) laugh and joke back. It was still a conference between interview and interviewee, but it was also just two people sitting with each other, looking for and making up reasons to smile.

Because really, what use is it to ask someone about how much experience they have handling cash or what was the last challenge you overcame? All of it is quantitative; it's already on the resumé. An interview demands that you present yourself as a rhetorician. It's a great skill to have, but employers are looking for more. They want workers, not just talkers. We antagonize glib salespeople - why should every word said in an interview be taken so seriously?

So you can rehearse and practice your lines as much as you like, and that's what they'll tell you to do in job search courses. But really, interviewers just wanna know who you are. It requires next to no words - you can tell how friendly, honest, secure etc. a person is within seconds of conversing with them. The resume tells them what you can do, but it's the interview that tells them what you're made of.

---------------------------------------------------

I'll be working during the two weeks of the Vancouver 2010 Olympics as a CBC Ambassador. Ambassadors will receive visitors when CBC Vancouver opens its doors to visitors and I will get to show them around! I've always wanted a tour of the place myself, and now I will be the one giving them!

So psyched.

I'm not directly working for the CBC (the CBC hired an event company to handle the Ambassador project) but it's still a foot in the door, or at least something shiny to put on my resumé.

If anyone dares to venture into Olympic-fevered Vancouver please come say hello! Too bad I don't have a better cell phone camera or I'd have you guys right on the front lines with me. We'll see if I can figure out something else.

Kelsey and her bf were at EB yesterday afternoon. They were leisurely laughing and browsing, and picking things off shelves. Kelsey told me they were going to an A.F.I. concert that night.

I see the two of them at the mall a lot, just hanging and doing nothing. I smiled and made small talk, but in my head I wanted to ask, "Don't you have homework? How can you spend all this money on just yourself?"

They are, after all, students. Just like me. Why are their lifestyles so different?

-----------------------------------------------------

I don't work all that hard, but I understand what it means to have an Asian work ethic. My every waking moment as a child was spent either in school or in after school lessons. There was a class for drawing, for English, skating, swimming, math, Tae Kwon Do, dance, music theory and piano. Especially with piano, since you can never practice too much. You can't teach someone to be hardworking, but you can accustom their brain to being busy with something at all times. Eventually they will understand: free time is wasted time.

But the most effective teaching tool my parents used was guilt and shame. Mom would always point to other kids and say, "See how smart/talented your friend X is," and it would be implied that I had not been enough. She doesn't use this technique on me anymore - but then she doesn't have to. Whenever she praises another person's son or daughter, I remember and formulate by myself the words in my head.

And even if we're just at home, she'll say pointedly to me, as if I was unruly and had refused to notice: "See how hard your father works? His hair is turning grey." Like it was my fault. Technically it was, since he was working to support us. But I remember feeling unworthy of my own father, especially since he never spent any time with me.

I am motivated not by love of an accomplishment, but in the hopes that I will be redeemed by it. It doesn't mean that I'm always productive, because I'm not. But whether or not I'm doing something, my mind is always paralyzed by the fear that I'll never find redemption, that I am wrong to have existed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Digi asked the other day if I would like to go out for cheesecake.

An innocent question, a normal couple activty. But in my head I was freaking out. Who's paying, where will the money come from? Students shouldn't spend so much money. We should stay home and finish our homework. I'm not so glamorous, I tell myself, that I need movies and fancy food. All I ever want to do is to sit in our rooms and study together and maybe watch a movie on the couch.

It doesn't make me a very fun girlfriend. But that doesn't mean I don't still need the same escapism that you get from going out and spending money. The days are starting to blend together, and I might go crazy from this lack of mental release.

I think I'm just in a weird rut in my life right now. I know that the things I'm trying to accomplish aren't going to make me happy, but I carry on because I think I'm doing what's right, or because I don't want to disappoint the people that care. I get so frusturated that in the end I lose motivation to do anything at all.

I haven't been blogging because I tell myself I should be doing other things with my time, but I lose grip on my life when I'm not writing to keep track of it. I feel like I've forgotten how. I can feel my brain has gotten slower from lack of use, so if I'm less uplifting of entertaining, that would be why. I'll keep at it until I get better.

I think it's also cause I miss my friends. I'll probably feel differently once the weather turns nice. My window is blue with sky as I write. I'll ditch these wretchedly stiff jeans and go out for bike rides along the dyke.

Hi everyone! It's Trumon's birthday today so please wish him a happy birthday and I'll make sure he reads it =]

Now to celebrate all things TRUMON with some TRUMON QUOTES!
                                                                                                                         

A: Do you know what a bunion is?
T: Are they bunny minions?

(walking into room)
T: Are you blogging? You have blogger face.

(Trumon and me in a giggle fit)
T: ahahaha
T: Ow my face hurts
A: ?_?
T: I'm emo
T: I'm not used to smiling so much

                                                                                                                 

Trumon and me cam-whoring with his collection of IMAX 3D glasses.

HaPPY birthday happy birthday HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my smelly brother! I know you're 13 now, but don't get taller than me too soon, k?

I hope everyone had an awesome Christmas. I wish for you a beautiful 2010!

  

Thanks to everyone for another year of sharing this Xangaspace with me. Happy Christmas!

It's funny how this

<3

means something totally different from this

♥

which is different from this

and which is still is different from

  

A lot why I blogged before was because I was angry or upset. Some of my best visual art pieces was produced under similar circumstances.

But the song I wrote yesterday came from a single hug, one small touch. Suddenly I had music in my head. I felt so loved - it felt like Christmas. I hummed the tune while on the bus home and spent the afternoon at the piano.