The best of both worlds

Our chairs here in Vanier dorms are these square-shaped half-rocking chairs. I call them half-rocking chairs because they are just that.

So the base of the chair resembles something like this from a bird’s eye view: | | <– each line is a “foot”, what I call the piece of wood that rests on the ground. Clear?

From a side ground view, however, a foot looks like this: __/ <– from front to back. The first part of the foot is the straight, grounded part that rests on the floor, as mentioned before, yes? The second slanted part isn’t as dramatic as that, but it does still slope upwards from the ground. The idea is for the slope to act as a kind of rocking chair. We can push back and lean into the slope so we relax. Someone probably thought it was a good idea to give us the best of both worlds: a steady chair we can use while studying, and a rocking chair that allows us to relax. Except, of course, it’s not really a rocking chair since you fall forward the moment you stop trying to push backwards. There is no rocking to and fro motion. Hence the name of half-rocking chair.

The thought that someone meant to give us the best combination possible helps me tolerate what comes next: the problem — and alas, who can ever see all the problems? — that arises from that same slopey part of the foot that allows us to sort of rock backwards.

The chair is square.
The feet are not rounded.
They have sharp corners and edges.
There are sharp corners hovering in mid-air.

Once a week, a scream (and maybe a rude word) will emerge from my room due to the catching of a foot on one of those sharp corners hovering in mid-air. But no one is too surprised, as I am sure that it occurs every day somewhere in Vanier.

Chinese New Year and Olympics

Apparently there is absolutely terrible weather in China right now with too much snow. My grandmother is currently in a Chinese hospital (here referring to Chinese as in Chinese medicine, not geographically) and was due to go back to HK for the New Year, but is now going to stay in Beijing until the weather improves.

I worry a little about heat getting shut off. I have a vague memory of something about rationing energy resources because there aren’t enough, and my mother once caught a cold while in Beijing because the central heating hadn’t been turned on yet (it was an early autumn that year I think). But I don’t really know anything about how it works for sure, though my brother and I were theorising about how Beijing will handle the Olympics. He thinks it isn’t going to work out because China isn’t capable of handling such a large event. August is hot in Beijing: 40’C and above. All the visitors will be blasting air-con at full blast because they aren’t used to it. I suggested that all the locals won’t have any air-con to deal with it — sacrifice the many, that kind of thing. Common parlance has that locals are encouraged to holiday outside of Beijing and discouraged from coming in. Most workplaces will be on official three-week holidays (or however long the Olympics take) and people told to stay at home in order to get rid of (temporarily) the insane amounts of traffic. I make China sound like a military regime and it really isn’t, but it is probably the most effective way of handling the Olympics. And it will work, I think.

Bet the organisers won’t sleep during the Olympics. With a 1.3 billion population — granted not all with access to TV — there’s a huge pressure not to embarrass the country. It’s not like other countries don’t already think that China is backward and undeveloped and evil (because anything communist is automatically almost all bad). Even Hong Kong people have had a particular aversion to “the mainland” or “mainlanders”. It’s less now, but it’s still there, that despise. Coincidentally, both my parents come from the mainland, although my father grew up in HK so I guess he’s more of a HK person than anything. My mother’s also lived in HK more than China now, and likes it better, but they still have a kind of affectionate tolerance and certainly patriotism for their country. (Not like me!) Which doesn’t automatically mean they condone the government by the by.

Apologies for discussing China and my family so often lately. I’m afraid I’m going to be in the mood for a while — the New Year falls on February 7th and it’s going to my first New Year away from home. The New Year isn’t going to be anything as special as in HK/China. For one thing, it won’t be a public holiday. HK gets three days off, and China a week. I won’t be watching the CCTV New Year’s Eve variety show. I won’t be visiting my relatives and having giant family dinners or lunches. I won’t be wishing family beautiful, hopeful phrases and getting red packets (or lai see in Cantonese; hong bao in Mandarin). I joke about the loss of my main source of income — I really do get quite rich by the end of the season — but it’s really not that. I could do without that happily, but I’m going to be dreadfully homesick for my family at the time. This is like Thanksgiving and Christmas rolled into one, that’s how family-oriented it is. Kay, I’ll stop blabbing now.

Late night ramblings

(Of the literal, more physical sort: walking.)

So last Saturday night/early Sunday morning, two of my friends and I were walking back from the bus loop past the outdoor swimming pool. We were on our way back to our beds from a birthday party down in Richmond.

As a background aside, the outdoor swimming pool had always struck me as a terrible waste of resources whenever I pass it in winter. If you asked me, it just didn’t seem to be the best evidence of UBC’s sustainability. You can literally see steam coming from the pool; it’s so cold these days. Nor had I seen anyone swim in the pool, even when the sun is at its peak, since November. Maybe I just needed to hang around 24/7 in order to see people swim, but I was still skeptical about just how many people will want to swim outdoors in the winter…

Of course, I was very mistaken about that, as I am about many things. So we’re walking back to Vanier when we hear screaming, and I wonder that the pool is open at night as well, but okay. Obviously people like to go swimming at 2:30 am. There’s a guy and a girl climbing up the diving board — and it’s a really high diving board — so we watch them out of idle curiosity as we continue walking by. The guy stands there — and you know how you tuck some piece of information away in your brain without thinking about it? I don’t notice if he’s wearing swimming trunks because there isn’t an obvious solid colour, but it’s dark and I’m not thinking, so brain clicks off — and he cannonballs into the pool from way up. Cool, brain on idle mode registers.

Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirr.

Woah. We hover, our feet ready to take the next step as we glance around for the siren, and this car that belongs to Campus Security comes rolling down the road. (Oh, so they’re not supposed to be swimming at night after all. And maybe that’s why the fence is bent down and there’s a gaping hole. But wait, that car isn’t stopping. Okay, really do have to stop walking now.) We stand shock still while the car careens, without any hesitation or sign of slowing down, onto the grass and the pavement next to the swimming pool. A guard comes out and greets the stray swimmers with something along the lines of, “Having fun?”, and tells them to get dressed and get out. There are two guys in suits — proper, Men in Black kind of suits — standing beyond the fence watching the proceedings. No idea if they’re with Campus Security and were the ones who called them, or if they’re with the swimmers. Who wears suits at 2:30 am? Meanwhile, I resemble a marshmallow roll in my long winter coat.

But that was a most entertaining way of waking us up on our groggy walk back. Better than if no one ever went diving/skinny-dipping and all that heat for the water is wasted, eh?

The Ideal Hubbards

I am hungry. As in, experiencing hunger pangs type of hungry. Where tummy growls for prolonged periods of time more than once. That kind of hungry.

I’m snacking on biscuits but what I seriously need is a sandwich or something substantial like that. Sadly, Hubbards is not open 24/7. Tear tear. If we were in a heaven that included Hubbards, it would be open any time of the day or night. And while I’m thinking wishfully, it would also have a wider variety of meals that don’t involve a microwave or a stove. Snacks are great, but real food is well-appreciated. And there would be more Asian foods in general. Like shrimp crackers/chips from Malaysia. I have two bags I brought over from HK. One is for my birthday. The other is for a rainy day (metaphorically speaking; literally would never do).

The miracle happened!

I’d almost given up on anyone dropping out of American literature by today, but being in the habit of hawking the SSC, I checked it anyway during my lunch break today, and what do you know? The miracle I thought was not going to happen did happen, and I have happily dropped out of Linguistics and joined American lit instead!

So I’m doing 3 English courses this term, and am also mildly concerned that this might be too many (but I’m so much happier!) — my prof from last term mentioned that if you do lots of lower-level courses you can’t do as many upper-level ones. This makes sense if I want to graduate within 120 credits since I have other requirements I have to meet, but I think that if I plan on exceeding most of my minimum requirements and doing more than 120 credits, then it shouldn’t be a problem, should it? At least, that’s my impression from Arts Advising. (I got different answers, but this answer came up more frequently statistically speaking, so I’m going with that.)

Because I’m planning on doing more English courses this summer…