 |
|
|
||||
I am having a blast in Trinidad! This is my first chance to access the Internet so you will get updates when I return. I have received a few addresses already, but if you have not yet sent your physical address, do not be shy. Send it to mail_address@globalconquest.ca. I may have another chance to check my email and send you a postcard.
I will be in a taxi at 5:00 AM tomorrow morning on my way to Pearson Airport. From there I am flying to Trinidad for two weeks! I return to Toronto on the 29th of December.
I left my address book behind so unfortunately I do not have addresses to which I can send postcards. However, as a bonus to loyal readers of this site, if you email me your address to mail_address@globalconquest.ca I promise to send you a postcard. (Clause 1: Unless I have no way to access the Internet!) So please send me your mailing addresses.
If I do not hear from you, Merry Christma-hanu-kwanzaa-ka to All and to All a good night!
I left Calgary last Saturday for Toronto. I stayed overnight in Toronto so I could write the JLPT held at York University on Sunday. That night I took the train to London, Ontario where I am staying right now.
I will be in Southern Ontario until Wednesday December 15th when I fly to Trinidad! I will be there for two weeks "liming". Liming means hanging out, partying, chilling. I am going there with my family for my cousin's wedding.
I fly back to Toronto on December 29th and on the 30th I am going on a road trip to NYC for NYE (New Years Eve)!
I would like to visit Waterloo, but probably will not have time. I am sorting through my things in London so I can move back to Calgary.
When I come back to Toronto on the 2nd of January, I have to find a way to get back to Calgary with a minivan load worth of personal junk. Any suggestions? Anyone out there moving to Calgary who wants to split a load or share a ride?
Uhaul is pretty expensive for a small load. Rental companies charge enourmous amounts if you want to drop the car off in the other side of the country. One alternative is to buy a cheap vehicle here in Ontario and try to sell it in Calgary. Leave me a note if you have any ideas. Thanks!
First bicycle seats and now this. It seems the family jewels are under constant attack. The journal Human Reproduction found that using a laptop on your lap can raise testicular temperature by nearly three degrees Celcius! And we all know (or should know) what heat does to sperm. My condolences to all you bicycle riding techies.
I hearby donate to the international community (as long as hit has not been patented already) the idea of climate controlled pants. There already exist air conditioned jackets.
I am fighting a losing battle against comment spam. I would like to revamp the comment system to prevent automated posting, but in the meantime I am disabling comments on all but the lead page.
Toward the end of October, I went to Boston to participate in a Japanese-English bilingual career forum organized by DISCO International. With a name like that you would expect quite a swinging party and whilst there were no flashing lights or mirror balls, good times were definitely had.
William and Tad, reunited after six years of independent but surprisingly similar mischief.
As my life and location changes and with the passage of time, I lose touch with many once close friends. With some, communication gradually waned until nonexistent, yet they remain within my sphere of reach. Others have completely disappeared and neither I nor anyone else knows what happened to them. Of the people who have completely disappeared, there are a handful of people who I regularly think about and want to see again. Tadashi Nagao was one of those people.
Tad and I took ballroom dance classes together in high school. No, not like that. We went with girls. We used to have lots of interesting conversations at those classes one of which centred around a bodily function.
Tad made the astute observation that we (men at least) often shiver when we pee. Going beyond the observation, he backed it up with a theory: the loss of body heat through all that urine is what gives us the sudden chill. From that point forward, as perverse as it may sound, I now think of Tad every time at the urinal a shiver accompanies my release. I now pass the curse to you. From now on, you will think of me, or him, or both of us, should you find yourself under similar circumstances.
In Boston, I stayed at the Irish Embassy Youth Hostel, otherwise known as "Bean Town" near the North Station subway station. At 25 dollars per night, I am sure it was the cheapest accommodation in Boston. There I met my main party buddy Shin, also attending the career forum, with whom I went partying every night of my stay.
Early Japanese twenty-somethings, graduated or just finishing university, descended upon the city in droves. Every shop, restaurant, and street corner had at least one set of Japanese kids with tightly cropped black, business hair contrasting with their usual funky attire on the eve of the forum. Dark business suits and complimentary canvas career forum bags sponsored by Phillip Morris completed the uniform as proceedings began.
The trains would get you to South Station from where you could take a free shuttle to the World Trade Center. After passing through registration and donning your name tag, you entered Japan. A handful of Caucasians lost, or rather, highlighted within the army of matching job seekers.
This was the first job fair I have attended, but it was not unlike any other convention or trade show. A giant warehouse disguised with carpet and segmented with blue curtain. Row upon row of company after company flanking the aisles soliciting attention en masse. The big financial firms, a few booths wide with more staff and chairs than necessary. The smaller independent companies with not enough staff nor chairs.
Not knowing where to start, I strode down the first pathway with a pleasant smirk on my face. Before reaching the end of the hall, more than a few companies had read the "Computer Science" on my name tag and asked if I wished to apply. After submitting only a few (unsuccessful) online applications prior to attending, I had already in the first morning arranged for a few interviews with some interesting companies.
The interviews were in both English and Japanese. Since my first Japanese interview back in June, I learnt to calm my nerves a bit better when switching to my almost-second-language. I managed to impress three companies enough into offering me follow-up interviews, but so far only one of those companies has contacted me. I managed to fail my part of interview protocol by not following up after the event. I left their business cards in Ontario. Whether that made the difference, I shall never know.
Overall, the forum was a great success. I met some very interesting people, practised my Japanese, and made some good contacts with Japanese companies. The drawbacks were that day two dragged on as I had already seen all the companies walking up and down the aisles and day three was a waste of time as all the companies were busy packing up. Those drawbacks are only minor and it was a very worthwhile experience.
You are probably more interested in my party life. In short, it was not so successful. For various reasons we failed to find the right kind of spot until our last night. The stories, though interesting, will have to wait until I tell them in person because this article is long overdue as it is. I will, however, leave you with a highlight of the last night.
I took my entourage down to "The Alley", a night club area just off the Boston Common. I had in tow Shin, the Japanese guy from my hostel who studies business in Nowhere Kansas, Scott, the blue blooded 6'5'' American who speaks better Japanese than most Japanese, and John, another Canuck who has the distinguished experience of personally translating for Bob Sapp.
We found a huge party going on at "The Big Easy". With the bass pumping and the floor full, I was satisfied with my find. Until I realized that most of the guys... and many of the girls were both taller and stronger than me. We had managed to stumble across the giant afterparty for a two day regatta that just happened to coincide with our career forum. After enough jostling amongst the giants, John left and Shin, Scott and I set out for greener pastures.
We found, not a short distance away, a swank lounge at the bottom of a nice hotel; much more appropriate for our business attire than the frat party we left. With enough vodka tonics to make up for the lack of company from the fairer sex, we grooved to the curiously Latin beats pulsing from the sound system. Dancing around and having a good time, my eyes made contact with a girl across the room. She was dancing with another guy and, piercing me with her gaze, she mouthed the unmistakable words "SAVE ME".
Not one to neglect the call of a damsel in distress, I set my glass upon the table (after finishing it) and fought my way through the perilous mass of seething bodies to her side. My presence was immediately employed as she extricated herself from her suitor's embrace and pulled my body close to hers. "Thank you" she whispered in my ear.
We danced and made small talk. Eventually she had to enquire as to my age. I told her and she laughed. "I'm old enough to be your mother".
"You look young enough to be my sister" I retorted without considering the incestuous connotations. She told me her age and without saying anything I did the math. Though technically correct about her initial observation, at 13 she would have been a very young mother.