tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42189474191586683352024-02-07T21:16:26.638-08:00Here in the MotherlandT. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-80727702329852391152009-01-13T13:52:00.000-08:002009-01-15T14:53:49.262-08:00Free Gaza demonstration / 1.10.2009I joined the Free Gaza demonstration outside the Israeli consulate at 180 Bloor on Saturday. <br /><br />A couple things stood out to me at the demo:<br /><br />1. There were lots of <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/pooyan/3189429032/">young men </a>and <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/romi74/3186330024/in/set-72157612365057359/">women</a>(and I'm talking young men and women of colour! not just white, do-gooder activists!). It was so refreshing to see high-schoolers passionately yelling, "Free, free Palestine!" and "From Gaza to Iraq, occupation is a crime!" It was inspiring and so wonderful to be able to share demonstration space with people in their teens.<br /><br />2. There were <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/pooyan/3189428758/">so many kaffiyehs</a>! What was powerful was that most of the people, I'm sure, knew what they signified in the Palestinian struggle for freedom and dignity. It wasn't a parade of fashionable hipsters who simply thought the traditional patterns were "cool."<br /><br />end.T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-39850278808372570912009-01-07T14:42:00.000-08:002009-01-07T16:55:05.926-08:00Can I help you look for books?Honestly, people. The signs say "All course books are located upstairs, with the exception of Mandy Bonisteel's WOMN 2016, which is located in the Child Abuse section of the store." Please stop going up to the front desk staff with your syllabus and asking where your course books are. Clearly they already have a fucking huge line of people waiting to pay.<br /><br />It doesn't matter how many signs I make for the store, students will just charge into the store and immediately ask for assistance from staff who are clearly already helping the self-righteous, useless idiot who came before they did. <br /><br />blegh.<br /><br />Top 3 Most Ridiculous Interactions:<br /><br />[3]<br />*student looks around the store like a lost child*<br /><strong>me:</strong> hi, can i help you look for your course books?<br /><strong>student:</strong> yah, i'm looking for the graduate history course.<br /><strong>me:</strong> ... "THE" graduate history course?...uhhh, do you know the course code?<br /><strong>student:</strong> ummm...nooooo...<br /><strong>me:</strong> do you know your professor's last name?<br /><strong>student:</strong> oh yah, i do! it's bergen.<br /><br />note: "THE" history grad course? how self-righteous are you??? there is no such thing as "the" history grad course. how am i supposed to help you when disregard the fact that there are many, many other history grad courses at your institution? puh-lease. get your act together and THEN i will help you. oh but wait! if you HAD your act together, you probably could have helped yourself.<br /><br />[2]<br />*fancy-looking woman in cream-coloured. floor-length fur coat, with matching winter hat*<br /><strong>student:</strong> excuse me, i just spent, like, 10 minutes looking for my course books and i still can't find them. (<--- clearly a lie. TEN MINUTES? i saw her walk up the stairs because she was so ridiculously dressed up and no, you were not up here for ten minutes. i hate exaggeraters) <br /><strong>me:</strong> oh no, are you looking for WGS 330? <br /><strong>student:</strong> yes<br /><strong>me:</strong> oh, your professor gave me a different course code, that's why you can't find it. sorry, it's actually under NEW 330. and it's right here *points to the section, which is right next to us*<br /><strong>student:</strong> oh. can you actually just grab all of my books for me?<br /><strong>me:</strong> ...umm it's just all right here *points to the shelf of her texts*<br /><strong>student:</strong> yah, but can you just pile them up for me?<br /><strong>me:</strong> ...it's just all of these books *runs palm across the book shelf*<br /><br />the student, from what i could tell, was able to get the books herself. i could be totally wrong, but i highly doubt it. i wasn't about to get her books for her while she stood there watching me do it for her...so she eventually got her books herself with no difficulty. <br /><br />[1] still waiting for it. it's bound to happen soon.T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-61244673430279193862009-01-02T13:22:00.000-08:002009-01-02T17:41:25.945-08:002008<span style="font-weight:bold;">January</span><br />- can't remember. must find old planner and fill this in later<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">February</span> <br />- kind of a bad, down month<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">March</span> <br />- TCSA elections coverage was a fucking trip<br />- last issue of Arthur comes on the last day of March<br />- applied to a million jobs that i never heard back from<br />- marked lots of shitty first year papers<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">April</span><br />- marked lots of okay final exams<br />- made "Dykes & Their Hair" zine<br />- applied to work at the Toronto Women's Bookstore (TWB), got an interview, got the job<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">May</span><br />- moved to Toronto, into Little Portugal<br />- May 5: started working at the TWB<br />- Crystal, old friend from high school, visits me in TO!<br />- started writing for tasteto.com<br />- was enamored by Toronto. spent lots of time exploring the city<br />- went to my first pedestrian sunday in kensington, where i saw maracatu for the first time<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">June</span><br />- Pride (two highlights: Dyke March and the Funk Asia stage). wore the tiniest little dress all day Saturday. was shocked by the "real" world after the pride weekend. ew.<br />- drank a lot of cider<br />- spent one of the nicest days in the summer with Kam and Sarah, eating brunch, walking down Queen Street, reading and writing on Kam's porch...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">July</span><br />- saw Basia Bulat for free at Harbourfront<br />- got really, really sick at work from eating rotten hummus<br />- finally bought a bike!<br />- random York Centre for Women and Trans People BBQ at Makeda Sivera's house...<br />- fun, relaxed BBQ at Kam's parents'. lots of sitting on the porch, drinking and talking<br />- extremely successful Ain't No Chick Flick film screening (believe that was The Aggressives...)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">August</span><br />- worked many, many hours to prepare for the new school year. got really tired of looking at purple order cards<br />- delicious Italian food with favourite professor<br />- Sleazy Listening was fun<br />- summer loft party at Dahn's in Peterborough<br />- TaiwanFest at Harbourfront, where, oddly enough, I got to see a Taiwanese aboriginal percussion group perform whom I've wanted to see for the past 10 years<br />- TWB 35th Anniversary party. Success! Someone bought the shirt I reconstructed for $45 for the silent auction!<br />- got to see Michelle Tea read at Writing Outside the Margins<br />- hung out with John Cameron Mitchell (wtf???) and Sook-Yin Lee at a sushi restaurant. Props to Christopher Phillips for setting that up.<br />- went up to Peterborough to help Ariel and James with Issue Zero <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">September</span><br />- worked so many hours<br />- Peterborough Pride<br />- got trashed at Kate Taylor's housewarming party<br />- Masia One's album release party at Revival <br />- LAL at The Boat<br />- Ladyfest (including Asian Freedom Schoolers, Rae Spoon)<br />- Take Back the Night<br />- saw Naomi Klein. we brought over 400 copies of The Shock Doctrine. Only sold 35 copies because we were set up in a shitty area and had to clear out of the space at 9:30. <br />- started seeing a naturopath<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">October</span><br />- wonderful new roomie, Anita, moves in with me<br />- started attending Freedom School workshops. good decision, Teresa<br />- Jessy, Mason and Kate Killoran birthday party. so much smoke in the attic. so much drama. so much yelling.<br />- organized my first academic event for the bookstore. success!<br />- 2nd Annual Coming Out Party at Kira's. I was a kickass DJ. so much dancing.<br />- TWB field trip to Canada's Wonderland! <br />- the fucking election was a huge disappointment <br />- let go from my tasteto gig<br />- back to the Motherland (Oct. 17 to Nov. 9) ! came out. gardened with Baba a lot. went to Hong Kong for a few days. hung out with Aidan and Diana. reconnected with Fancy, an old family friend. followed the US elections. an emotional rollercoaster ride with my parents. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">November</span><br />- Peter fucking MacLean visits me in Toronto! so much nostalgia. so much ranting about high school<br />- attended a Writing for Comics 101 workshop with Mariko Tamaki<br />- County Boys at The Pig's Ear. What the fuck was I doing there???<br />- Meg visits for two nights. Sneaky Dee's with Bryn. Aunties & Uncles. shopping down Ossington. Nazareth's. I miss you, Meggie.<br />- drinks at the Gladstone with Trevor, Ale, Scott and Naja<br />- Morgan's housewarming/Julia's goodbye party<br />- made the biggest purchase of my life - my macbook. hands were so sweaty when I was paying for it<br />- started therapist/counsellor shopping aka. counselling consultation appointments<br />- super nice dinner with Julia, Morgan, Carmen and Carmelle at Julia's<br />- had one of the worst weeks of my life...<br />- Granny Boots with Rae Spoon! Hump Day Bump! Felt like allllllllll of the homos were there that night<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">December</span><br />- partied and went out a lot this month<br />- helped Corrie with frontlist buying from Random House. I want to be able to do a full sales rep appointment myself soon<br />- started to make a lot more art (drawing, writing, making prints)<br />- amazing No One is Illegal LAL show at Wrongbar<br />- started to hang out with Alejandra a lot<br />- saw Tafelmusik for free<br />- worked the book table for the In Honour of Barbara Godard symposium. haha...what a weird night. i love seeing academics in their natural drunken state<br />- scandalous Granny Boots/Hump Day Bump night for my friends<br />- Maria and I broke up...<br />- Colour Me Dragg was fucking fabulous<br />- City of Craft was cute and fun<br />- met a lot of people from Maracatu<br />- launch of T & B Toronto Firsts<br />- was and still am on a Pedro Almodovar kick (watched Todo Sobre Mi Madre, La Mala Educacion and Volver in the span of a week and a half)<br />- awesome Christmas Eve party at Ale's mama's place. delicious food. fun people. raphi plays MIA's paper planes on the accordian. met more fun people<br />- Ruth comes for a couple of days. good times with my little sister, as always<br />- Christmas Day dinner at Kam's parents' with Muna and Ruth. delicious food and chocolate. met Aman, the big bro!<br />- homemade croissants at Hanae's with Maracatu people. fun! lounged around on Hanae's bed and ate chocolate-filled croissants<br />- bloody brilliant Maracatu show at Lula Lounge. I danced so hard. <br />- New Year's Eve party at 336 Delaware. danced a lot, as usual<br /><br />The last three months of 2008 were incredibly intense, for good and for bad. Lots of emotions and change. Overall, 2008 was a good year for me. There were some really fucking shitty times throughout it, but in general, I can say that it was a good one. It's been a good year because of so many changes I've had to face. I don't do changes very well, but it seemed like I did a pretty good job this year. I don't know how I feel about 2009. A little scared, perhaps. I'm not sure why exactly because, really, it's just another day upon another day upon another day. A new four-numbered number isn't going to make a difference in the quality of my days.<br /><br />These are the things I want in my life in the new year:<br />- to make more art<br />- to get serious and involved in magazine work<br />- to join the Monday nights Maracatu workshops<br />- to exercise regularly. fuuuuuuck. <br />- to get out of the city more often. Toronto Island? Orillia or Barrie for cross-country skiing? Peterborough? Montreal? Quebec City? Cuba? Mexico? <br /><br />I spent the first day of 2009 doing absolutely nothing. woke up at 11am. used the internet. watched tv shows on the internet. two or three seperate naps. ate junk food. went to bed at 10:30pm. way to go, teresa!<br /><br />Over and out.T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-64979435926711598072008-12-30T11:26:00.000-08:002009-01-02T13:38:56.487-08:00T-O-R-O-N-T-O<span style="font-weight:bold;">love:</span><br />- the different neighbourhoods<br />- Chinatown, baby (supermarkets, fruit stores with hawkers, being able to hear Cantonese and Mandarin, the atmosphere)<br />- the Dundas/Spadina old women who sell their homegrown produce on the streets, on top of milk crates<br />- Kensington<br />- small independently-owned grocery stores<br />- Asian Freedom School<br />- so many creative people from different backgrounds and experiences. so inspiring.<br />- cheap phone cards from Chinese women who sell from holes in the wall<br />- there is something to do everyday, if you so wish to do them<br />- $2.25 to get the airport<br />- ummm...food, obviously.<br />- streetcars, but mainly in the summer. it's nice to go down a street slowly in a tin box, absorbing the surroundings<br />- the parks. ahhhh i miss summer!<br />- the parkettes. same deal.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />hate:</span><br />- it's fucking expensive to live in this city<br />- so many Torontonians don't dance! wtf, man.<br />- the subway. <br />- streetcars. especially in the winter. being packed inside a stuffy metal box with other cranky people is not my idea of a good time<br />- winter in this city can sometimes be cold in every sense possible<br />- the queer world is still small as ever. or at least it seems so...<br />- this place makes me want to run away sometimes<br />- there are so many cyclists in this city, yet drivers are still fucking douches and don't watch out for them<br /><br />Oh, Toronto. I love you, but I want to leave you for a little while. Just a week and a half. That's all. I am going to leave you for Mexico or Cuba. Just a week and a half.T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-52470943238479946112008-12-27T13:51:00.000-08:002009-01-19T10:58:22.927-08:00Maracatu and Aline Morales Band at Lula Lounge - 12/26/08<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;"><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">I went to the Maracatu Nunca Antes show last night at Lula Lounge. The Aline Morales Band opened.<div><br /></div><div>It was an amazing night. I danced so hard. My neck was dripping with sweat. I was right up at the front of the stage, holding the dancing down. It was so good to have gone. Exhilarating!</div><div><br /></div><div>There were so, so many alfaias on stage. The sound was brilliant. It was great to see Alejandra, Ana Maria, Hanae, Angelica and Mari play. They are so obviously in love with the music and play with everything they have, which makes for a great performance, great music and awesome times. The stage was small, but they managed to fit so many players on there.</div><div><br /></div><div>I payed homage to Maracatu and wore my "where's waldo" cardigan. Representin' the red.</div><div><br /></div><div>If anyone reading this has the chance to see Maracatu live...please do it. The <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIRbLUAMnKY">youtube</a> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mYdRbzovWmY">video</a> clips do not do them justice whatsoever.</div></div></span>T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-68948538994365919772008-12-17T08:23:00.000-08:002008-12-18T07:52:06.383-08:00We're so over, AAI am proud to say that I no longer crave shopping at <a href="http://americanapparel.net/">American Apparel</a>. There, I said it. It has been so difficult, this summer, to resist the bold colours and soft t-shirts, not to mention moving to the big city and feeling like I needed to be up to par with all the fashionable and stylish. <div><br /></div><div>I'm not exactly sure how my secret AA obsession plateaued. It probably actually has to do with the fact that 1) I dropped a big load on the incredibly beautiful laptop I am currently typing on and 2) therefore, cannot be spending $35 on a t-shirt. On top of that, all the relationship drama I have had in my life in the past month has kept my mind off of what purchase to make next. Oh...and I've met too many irritating AA-clad queers in the past seven months to put me off of their merchandise for a while. </div><div><br /></div><div>This isn't to say I will never purchase anything from the store again. I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic">do</span> still find myself wanting to <a href="http://store.americanapparel.ca/tr308.html?cid=26#i">snag</a> a <a href="http://store.americanapparel.ca/rntp354.html?cid=30">few</a> <a href="http://store.americanapparel.ca/rsamf400w.html?cid=152">items</a>. I can make AA my "own," right?....Right? I would like to think so. My wardrobe isn't made up entirely of their clothing. My outfits are usually made up of a mix of an expensive, durable piece (which usually means my lezzie Blundstones), some sort of reconstructed piece I made myself, buttons made by someone I know, shitty jeans I've been wearing for years and something from a popular retail store (H&M...American Apparel...god, even Suzy Shier sometimes). </div><div><br /></div><div>My desire to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic">buy</span> hasn't died though. And I don't know if it ever will. I have been craving Salvation Army, Value Village and 69 By the Pound for the past two weeks. Someone come with me! Please!?</div>T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-67416946700685031652008-12-14T12:08:00.000-08:002008-12-17T08:43:46.701-08:00Dundas, between Gladstone and Sheridan<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;"><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">My neighbourhood is evolving. In the span of seven months, which is how long I have lived here for, I have seen new businesses pop up that I don't think serves the majority of those who actually live in the area. I live on Dufferin, just south of Dundas, bordering Parkdale, in the Portuguese neighbourhood.</div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><br /></div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">The Dundas strip, between Gladstone and Sheridan, is, in my opinion, rapidly transforming. The strip I'm talking about is a mere two blocks. </div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><br /></div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">When I moved to my place, <a href="http://www.myspace.com/westsidestoriesvideo">West Side Stories</a>, the lezzies-run video rental store, was already in business and had been for a while. Within the last seven months, the following businesses opened up on the strip:</div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">1. <a href="http://www.multipleorganics.ca/Multiple_Organics/Home.html">Multiple Organics</a> - organic grocer</div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">2. Henhouse - restaurant and bar (owned by Katie Sketch and Jenny Smyth, band members of now defunct band, The Organ)</div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">3. Zoot's Cafe - ...cafe</div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><br /></div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">Now, all of these businesses are small and independent (and run by some pretty awesome people!), but I can't help but wonder who these businesses are serving. From my highly reliable and empirical study of my neighbourhood, I can say that the majority of the people who live here are elderly people and families with three generations under one roof, many of whom are immigrants. I highly doubt my Christmas decoration-loving neighbours are likely to visit the Henhouse for a Thursday night drink. </div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><br /></div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">And then there's "us," the alcohol-guzzling, art-making hooligans in their twenties and early thirties. This definitely includes me. I rent videos at West Side Stories. I drink cappucinos and use wireless at Zoot's. I've had several rounds at Henhouse. I've purchased organic avocados at Multiple Organics. It's an age-old conundrum of being critical and aware of a certain issue but, at the same time, participating in the exact problem. I obviously don't have any answers. </div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><br /></div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">Oh and it's really quite something to see these nicely packaged businesses next to run-down storefronts with "for rent" signs in their shit 'n spit-covered windows. I haven't immersed myself long enough in this neighbourhood to know what used to occupy those spaces (or I'm just too busy visiting the exact places I'm writing about to learn). What a sight.</div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "><br /></div><div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">Basically, it's just astonishing how quickly the small two blocks have changed in such a short period of time. What it comes down to is me feeling weird about all of these hip places opening up, yet being a regular at all of them. But that weird feeling dissolves quickly after a few round at the Henhouse. Ha.</div></span>T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-39395180831434565612008-12-12T11:35:00.001-08:002008-12-12T11:39:22.413-08:00T & B take on TorontoBryn and I have started a project.<br /><br />We started a blog called <a href="http://tandbtorontofirsts.blogspot.com/">T & B Toronto Firsts</a>.<br /><br />The idea is that we go to a new restaurant or bar once every few weeks and write seperate reviews of the place. We post our own reviews at the same time so that neither of us reads the other person's post before it goes live. It's a contrasting food review blog.<br /><br />I'm having lots of fun with it. Bryn and I are determined to get Toronto-famous with this thing.T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-29751964223779717422008-12-08T12:36:00.000-08:002008-12-17T08:44:01.816-08:00Go me!I'm on a roll:<br /><br />Saturday, Nov. 29 - Lot 16 with Kate, Jen McHugh and Jackie<br />Sunday, Nov. 30 - Watched <em>Rice Rhapsody</em><br />Monday, Dec. 1 - Bubble tea and foosball (sp?) with Freedom School people<br />Tuesday, Dec. 2 - Nothing<br />Wednesday, Dec. 3 - Drinks with Morgan and later, Hump Day Bump. Mason sleeps over!<br />Thursday, Dec. 4 - Pre-drinks at my place with Bryn. Sweaty Betty's with Bryn and Morgan. LAL show at Wrongbar with Morgan and a million other people. Alejandra sleeps over!<br />Friday, Dec. 5 - Tafelmusik concert with Alejandra, Victor, Francesca, Eliza and Roxanne. The Green Room. Henhouse. Sleep over at Francesca's and Victors.<br />Saturday, Dec. 6 - Rest<br />Sunday, Dec. 7 - Leah's surprise birthday partyT. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-12967605841059994982008-11-30T11:31:00.000-08:002008-11-30T12:38:05.034-08:00Keep me company<!--StartFragment--><span style="Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Kate came to the bookstore yesterday to pick me up for lunch. She was hungover and looking really shitty, which touched me because despite how shitty she felt, she was a trooper and came to keep me company. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><!--StartFragment--><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">She came and picked me up on her scooter. We were ridiculous and scooted from Harbord/Spadina to Bloor/Spadina, which is really just a five-minute walk (or a two-minute scooter ride). I wanted to be frivolous and to treat myself, so I made Kate scoot us over. Self-love, right?</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We talked relationship problems (hey, what’s new?!), Xanax and the economic crisis over food that neither of us actually wanted to eat. Kate was too hung over to look at food. I just haven’t had an appetite for the past four days.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It was so nice to have an hour where I wasn’t physically alone with my own thoughts. Because that’s what I did all day at front desk – receive books, unfold cardboard boxes and listen to music that made me feel sick to my stomach.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Not wanting to go home to an empty house and to be stuck with my fucked up self, I called Kate to see what she was up to. Thank the lord she hasn’t gotten sick of me and invited me to go to the Drake for a poetry slam.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Finally got home at 7:45 to drop off my shit. Turns out Kate was wrong and there wasn’t actually a poetry slam at the Drake. I walked down to Queen anyway and thought I would just call Kate and Jen when I got to the area. When I got there, I gave Kate a ring to no avail. Twice. Text: once. No response. I found a bench outside the Drake and just sat down. It was a good thing the weather was nice. I was way too physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted to try to look for those two. I just decided to sit on the bench and watch people go by until they called me. I was too tired to even be annoyed. Turns out Kate and Jen were just six storefronts down from the Drake, at Lot 16.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The moment I arrived, Kate told me to order a beer. I was hesitant at first because I only had three triangle pieces of pita with hummus for “dinner” and the whole getting-drunk-on-one-beer thing has been happening much too frequently lately, with my lack of an appetite and all. After 10 minutes, I said “Fuck it” and ordered myself a pint of Amsterdam Blonde. Kate congratulated me. I must be the only person in the “queer communities” I hang out in who gets congratulated for ordering a drink.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Jackie joined us not too long after. Conversations revolved around dogs (all three of them have dogs…or babies…there no difference to this dogless/babyless lezzie), sex, counseling, food and funny family stories. Jackie was classy and awesome. She bought a bag of pistachio nuts from the convenience store and ate it in the bar, covering the table with severed nut shells.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I wish I had the energy to join them at The Beaver, but really, who I was kidding. I was tired and having done inventory of how many hours of sleep I have been getting these days, it was probably a good idea to go home.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And I did.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And I slept.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Six hours.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">RECORD!</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Because three and a half to four and a half hours just isn’t enough.</span></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </span></div>T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-61133849640692898022008-11-28T16:04:00.000-08:002008-11-30T12:38:56.659-08:00My lunches don't look and smell like sandwiches and fudge browniesSomething I wrote during Toronto Asian Arts Freedom School...<br /><br />The writing prompt was "Write about a food that you love or hate, and why."<br /><br />--------<br /><br />Kids are really mean in elementary school. That, or they're really honest. But I'm going to go with "mean" because they hurt my feelings and made me feel ashamed about myself, my family and my culture.<br /><br />Lunchtime was always an exciting time for me because my mom would always pack the most kickass lunches for me. Having just immigrated to canada for not too long, she would send me off to school with food she knew - fried rice, rice balls filled with pork and pickled radish, dumplings, greasy Cantonese sausages...<br /><br />It was also a great time because I always got to have a taste of my best friend's lunch. Mirai was Japanese and also brought equally kickass food - sweet fried egg, minced pork over rice...<br /><br />I always felt a sense of pride, even at such a young age, that I ate food no one else had in their lunch boxes. I felt loved because my mom would wake up early to fix my little sister and I these wonderful lunches to fill our bellies with. Plus, I felt and still do, to a certain degree, a sort of cultural superiority over my classmates' juice boxes, lunchables and chocolate chip cookies. That is, until I started being made fun of.<br /><br />If you've had Chinese dumplings before, you would know that they give off a strong odor. This smell was comforting to me. It brought me back to my parents, the safety of my home and to Taiwan. This was not, however, how my classmates felt...<br /><br />"Ewww! What's that smell?? Sick!"<br /><br />It was my dumplings, the dumplings my mom had laboriously folded with her two hands. Dumplings she boiled in the early morning because overnight dumplings are no good, she would always say.<br /><br />Making fun of my food meant making fun of my immigrant family. I knew that even at the age of seven or eight. I don't really remember what happened after my classmate made me feel like an outcast. I am pretty sure I didn't say anything in response. I'm guessing that I just ate my dumplings in anger, shame and silence.<br /><br />So even to this day, I am still traumatized. Don't comment on my food. Don't say anything about what I eat. Leave me and my food alone.T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-15779248821383610982008-11-26T14:35:00.000-08:002008-11-26T11:32:48.953-08:00Swollen, cried out eyes are unattractive, don't you know?I cried before I fell asleep last night.<br />I cried twice this morning.<br />I cried riding my bike to work.<br />I am crying reading a piece in the Doris zine while at front desk.<br />It's only two o'clock in the afternoon and I have been on the verge of breaking out in tears at any given point.<br /><br />As difficult as it might be to believe, I cry easily and I cry a lot. I do it so much, yet I've never really stopped and thought to myself, "hey, I'm a crier." Maybe that was one way for me to distance myself from and to deny emotions that already feel too close and too hard.<br /><br />Some people say crying makes you feel better afterwards. I don't know if I've experienced that these past two weeks. Sure, I've cried and felt better before, but it feels different this time around. I think it's because I spend so much of time crying time <em>alone</em>. When I cry in front of co-workers at the bookstore, I feel a bit better afterwards, probably mainly due to them doling out encouraging, caring and positive words.<br /><br />But when I cry alone, it feels like absolute shit. I don't know if I feel any better afterwards. I don't think I do. Having to be by myself and hear myself cry seems and feels so awful and pathetic. <em>I</em> have to the be one to brush off my tears. <em>I</em> have to be the one to pick myself off of my bed to go to the bathroom to clean my face. <em>I </em>have to be the one to make sure I fall asleep. Because there is another day around the corner to push myself through.<br /><br />Boooooooo...<br /><br />Let's see how many more times I can cry today.<br /><br />Go, me!T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-33487624862481787612008-11-25T09:14:00.000-08:002008-11-25T09:25:29.370-08:00Lists make things seem more manageable- walked to work yesterday morning. houses on euclid between college and harbord are scary and massive<br />- must write tiny, short stories about firm pressed tofu and mama and spider hunting with baba<br />- had a frightening conversation with a customer named Jordan about bed bugs. he says i have them. i say i don't.<br />- went to the gym before work today in liberty village. felt extremely out of place amongst the fancy, bougie young professionals. worked out on a machine that had a TV screen attached to it. the condos in liberty village make me both envious and disgusted.<br />- walking to work has allowed me to discover new places in the city, which is always refreshing and exciting<br />- have come to the conclusion that the twenty-third year of my life, so far, has been the biggest turn point/year. will hopefully look back one day and think, "ahhh yes, when i was twenty-three...so glad and proud of myself for dealing with my shit in a brave way."<br />- five manageable goals for the day: [1] finish and send off important email [2] go to the gym [3] bike to work [4] dinner with julia, morgan, carmen and carmelle [5] phone date<br />- it's scary when making lists become difficult for someone who lived off of making lists.T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-23572975004727598872008-11-23T19:59:00.000-08:002008-11-23T22:24:14.986-08:00Aunties & UnclesThis weekend was one of indulgence. Aside from having just spent a breathtaking (and not in the good way) amount of money on this new MacBook I'm typing on, I had brunch at <a href="http://www.auntiesanduncles.ca/">Aunties & Uncles</a> two days in a row. <div><br /></div><div>My first trip to Aunties and Uncles was thanks to <a href="http://www.bryninthewilderness.blogspot.com/">Bryn</a>. My second visit was me trying to impress Maria with my knowledge of good food in the city, which is something I am always working towards expanding (too bad my savings account is only shrinking, rather than expanding, in size). </div><div><br /></div><div>I was overwhelmed by the sea of plaid-clad white boys who also chose to dine at Aunties and Uncles those two days. They were everywhere! Behind me, next to me, at the table in the far corner and my server too! Not only the plaid, but "ironic" moustaches, oversized glasses and combed over side parts! I was in -ister anthropological heaven. Seriously, cover me in honey and throw me to the -isters. Or lesbians, whichever.</div><div><br /></div><div>I mean, the food and service at Aunties and Uncles are great, but what is this magnetic pull that brings all of these boys to the yard? Is it the Bob Dylan and The Beatles playing overhead? Or do they genuinely like the kitschy retro paraphernalia decorating the place? I would really love to know. Maybe, one day, I will work up the courage to ask one of the (plaid or band t-shirt donning) servers what their secret is. I think I just might. I'm that obsessed with -ister culture.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, also have noticed that all of the plaid boys were dining with other boys. All of the good-looking, hip white boys were there with...other good-looking, hip white boys. I have awful gay-dar (which is rather unfortunate) and couldn't tell whether or not the boys were of the gay kind. I've been boy friend-less for so long that I can no longer tell anything about that species. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sexual orientation aside, what I did manage to guess was that they all either:</div><div>a. play in bands<br /></div><div>b. write for blogs</div><div>c. go to hip parties that I wish I was able to attend</div><div>d. all of the above<br /><div><br /></div><div>On a completely different note, one of the downsides to a hip brunch destination like this one is the likely chance to bumping into people you may find yourself in awkward situations with. For me, it wasn't that bad. There just so happened to be two girls (at two separate tables) that I recognized, but for the love of god, did not remember where from. Maybe the bookstore? Maybe some queer event? I made eye contact with one of them, which I obviously dealt with by snapping my head back towards my peeps. When will I ever learn that in order to survive in this city, one has to open up to novel ideas like smiling and saying hello.</div><div><br /></div><div>Boys. Gay boys.</div><div>Girls. Gay girls.</div><div>Whatever.</div><div>All this lezzie knows is that the breakfast pocket at Aunties and Uncles rules my life.</div></div>T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-30532468714466900352008-11-16T07:36:00.000-08:002008-11-16T08:09:39.587-08:00Project MeI am in the process of trying to save myself...from my current self. This is Project Me. Or Project Self-Love. Which ever.<br /><br />My mental health is not in a state that I am wanting for myself. In fact, my mental health is a huge wreck right now. I repress all emotions to the point where I don't feel anything except anger, numbness and homesickness. I don't talk about my feelings. I don't talk in general. I think I am emotionally abusive towards my girlfriend. I am generally never happy. I am not motivated to do things I know I enjoy. I feel disconnected from people I respect and like. I am incredibly judgemental and bitter towards people around me. I want other people to be unhappy too. I focus on the "bad" side of people and not the "good." I don't take care of my emotions. I've been burying them so deep inside of me for my entire life that they are erupting now in a way that I don't know how to deal with.<br /><br />Basically, I have turned into a really fucking scary monster that I no longer recognize myself. And it fucking scares me and completely freezes me up from being able to do anything productive.<br /><br />And I've decided I need to do something about it.<br /><br />These are some realistic steps I'm going to implement in my life:<br />1. making those counseling appointments I've been meaning to do since forever ago<br />2. re-read all about love by bell hooks<br />3. writing at least once a day<br />4. talking to Corrie about the way she takes active steps in becoming the person she wants to be<br />5. talking to Rose about race and culture and how that totally fucks you up because you feel totally alone in a sea of people who don't understand you<br />6. actively talking myself through times when I feel angry and hateful<br />7. going out with friends at least twice a week<br />8. finish reading that article on anxiety<br />9. starting a "your turn" notebook with Maria<br />10. being more brave and meeting new people<br />11. doing at least one thing that I like once a day<br /><br />I am starting to do something for myself.<br />MYSELF.<br /><br />And it's the biggest, most important, scariest thing I have ever had to do.T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-10223208550575407262008-11-07T17:58:00.000-08:002008-11-07T18:09:36.068-08:00The things one can do with a US passport...<p>[上午 09:52:38] Ruth says: i want to have a US passport just so i can be in the amazing race.</p><p>My sister is amazing. I am still laughing at what she said, 10 minutes after the fact. First of all, it was brought up randomly, sprinkled in between a conversation about a trans-issues conference. Secondly, who says something like that??? And lastly, there are so many people all over the world who would (literally) die for US citizenship so they don't have to go into the country as "illegals" and whatnot, but here my sister is, reminding us that a US passport can be good for many other timely things, like being able to participate in the Amazing Race.</p><p>I love my sister.</p>T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4218947419158668335.post-21927431503078641072008-11-06T22:53:00.000-08:002008-11-07T17:15:29.032-08:00Ravage Me: Rachel MaddowNote: "Ravage Me" is a column I've created to help me categorize posts about people I admire and enjoy (and, from time to time, might daydream about having raunchy dirty sex with).<br /><br />---<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWa1ifhIBONX5eHSnf8lKYqRQ0hyphenhyphenpmb_GtOxPCiOi7UMpz6vfG76Y02BEEJ6oYd7887gldYZXV0KSKmWPJpuVGprgyhRXBr_yayb53b6mSRJrANPGF2fK74RL2Es6hW9tY7mXRIftN3cM/s1600-h/rachel-maddow1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265909298561546930" style="WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWa1ifhIBONX5eHSnf8lKYqRQ0hyphenhyphenpmb_GtOxPCiOi7UMpz6vfG76Y02BEEJ6oYd7887gldYZXV0KSKmWPJpuVGprgyhRXBr_yayb53b6mSRJrANPGF2fK74RL2Es6hW9tY7mXRIftN3cM/s320/rachel-maddow1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><em><span style="font-size:78%;">God. Rachel, you make the unsightly American flag look so damn good...mmmhmm!</span></em><br /><br />I just finished spending a full hour watching video clips of and reading articles about Rachel Maddow. I'm at a point where I feel intense, severe desire to transcend science by jumping into my computer screen and asking (maybe forcing, if needed) Rachel to ravage my body.<br /><br />She was a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford University, where she obtained a doctorate in political science. Her activism focused on HIV/AIDS and prison rights. She's probably the most well-known for her daily show, <em>The Rachel Maddow Show.</em><br /><br /><p>And...I am such a fangirl.<br /><br />I realize, for the most part, the general mass still only allows themselves to nod their heads in agreeance with and laugh at the jokes of white dykes. Ha, maybe I will live to the day to see a queer woman of colour in a similar public position as Maddow. I mean, Obama is now the President-elect of the United States, surely we will soon see a queer woman of colour of, at least, Maddow's caliber...right?<br /><br />I know it's rather offensive to set a well-educated, white lesbian woman as the ideal against which queer women of colour should aspire to. I should probably be severely chastised for creating such a power dynamic, but really, I've got such the hots for her that I'm beyond senseless and anti-oppressive lecturing.<br /><br />But really, we must all agree that Rachel is wittier, funnier and more <a href="http://tw.youtube.com/watch?v=o45G2actM8I">articulate </a>than North America's last really famous lesbian, Ellen DeGeneres (okay, there's also Lindsay Lohan, but let's not go there). Plus, let's not forget the fact that North American mass media loves to see gay people as comedians and not often as political commentators and analysts. The woman is <a href="http://tw.youtube.com/watch?v=h9znBXnq6fw">sharp</a> with her commentary; it's highly impressive.<br /><br />Geeze, even her <a href="http://glaadblog.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/maddow1.jpg">awful excuse of a haircut </a>has somehow made its way to my heart, making it pump extra fast and extra hard upon the sight of the ungodly mane.<br /><br />I'm sure there's something disgraceful about her, that someone will soon point out to me. I already know that she loves the Olympics and boasted about not being affected by anything she ate and drank while in Mexico in early 2006 (a day after which she fell ill. ha.), like Mexico is this infested, "other" place that she has triumphed over. I'm still unaffected by the rather disappointing "fun facts" about her. So please, do enlighten me as to save me from my own obsession.<br /><br />But really now, Rachel, why spend all of your energy <a href="http://tw.youtube.com/watch?v=9vE_vW-KL1o">laying the smackdown </a>on loser conservative talk heads when you can be laying the smackdown on me??? Actually, I'm not even quite sure what I even meant by that, but I think I was trying to go for "word-on-play sexy and witty."</p>T. Chenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11995522503445167310noreply@blogger.com0