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You say it's your birthday, it's my birthday too - yeah!
Hurrah! It's my birthday! Woot! I was born!
Thanks for remembering, and taking me out all day, and sending all the well-wishes and birthday greetings. I am a very very lucky 25 year old. It's gonna be a big year. I can feel it! Good things are on the brink, and grad is coming up, and I even found the shoes I've been dreaming of for the past six months!
"I would like you to dance - birthday!
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance - birthday!"
For the love of @*&#$!!!
Okay okay okay I get it. New York is a kabillion times better than Vancouver. I get it already. I figured out when I heard about your outdoor ice skating rinks and Muppet-themed parties and Marc Jacobs' sample sales and Brooklyn brownstones and Arcade Fire concerts and Phillipe Starck signage and modernist hotels. The World Graphic Design Foosball Championship is really just rubbing it in, don't you think? Sheesh.
Pull shapes!
The Dot and the Line: A Romance in Lower Mathematics, was written and illustrated by Norton Juster, with typography done by Don Foster. Two years after its publication in 1963, MGM turned the book into a 10-minute animation, which ended up winning the 1965 Academy Award for Animated Short Film. Both the book and the narrated animation are gorgeous and clever and typographical (even though they only feature a few numbers, and no letters or puncutation), and have the added bonus of featuring geometry (which generally floats my boat). Watch it!
Cure my blindness
Years of being a geeked out Chinese kid obsessed with reading comics and Anne of Green Gables have sadly left me bespectacled for life (although, rumour has it, reading in the dark doesn't actually harm your eyesight). Since my sense of smell isn't so good that I can exist by simply hearing my opponent in a prison yard battle, I need glasses. For some reason, I've always chosen really sketchy, unflattering things to correct my vision and I'm determined to not repeat the same mistake this time. This year, Elton John has smiled upon me, and I've actually found two I like! I know what you're thinking: c'est impossible! Now I just have to decide which ones I'm going to get before my medical runs out.
Option 1: A sweet pair of frames from (brace yourselves), Juicy Couture. Can I do it? Will I actually be able to put these on my face and not accidentally slip into a velour tracksuit and bleach my hair blonde? Pro: They have this awesome transparent corner detailing. Con: The inside of the arm is inscribed with Juicy Couture American Princess. Shoot me in the face.
Option 2: Specs from ProDesign Denmark. They get the European brand points, but really aren't as sweet as the Juicy ones for some reason. Pro: they come with nosepads (Chinese = no nose bridge = boourns), and they kind of look like compressed plywood, and who wouldn't want that on their face? Con: a bit heavy looking, and pricier.
What's a myopic girl to frickin' do?!
Top of the swaps
While clicking around the Information Superhighway, I happened upon Swap-o-Rama, an event where peeps show up with clothes to trade, a big swap happens, and then participants get to saddle up to a sewing workshop and turn their find into something wearable. Shockingly, the Vancouver Swap happened last September and I had no idea!! Either I'm out of it, or there's a lot of covert awesomeness going down in Vancouver. It's a pretty sweet idea + hopefully it'll come around again. For now, I'll be content with Value Village and TBW's rebuttoning skillz.
The marriage of awesome
On Saturday night, I was privileged to celebrate Jaeho + Nadia as the best man's date at their wedding (I got to sit at the head table and wear new shoes and everything!). It was my first non-family, non-kid's table wedding, and it friggin' Rocked Out! The pictures I managed to take before my battery died are here.
This one's my favourite:
Chop on the block
I always feel optimism and wanderlust after visiting with my awesome hairdresser, Julie. She trims my bangs in the outfit I'm still trying to put together and tells me about her recent or forthcoming trip from or to Chicago/San Francisco/Brazil/Stockholm/Copenhagen/other hipster locale, the hotels she's booked on Tablet, the friends she's visited, what tea she drank, and her adventures as a part-time deejay. Yeah. She has one of those lives.
On Wednesday, I was telling her about how, for a while now, I've been longing for a high school dance, complete with streamers draped around seismic ceiling beams, a shinied up gym floor, rented disco ball, and Le Chateau shoes. But most important of all, I want the slow dancing. Arms fully extended, stare at your toes, Boyz II Men blaring from the speakers, slow-dancing. The good stuff. Now, I always imagined that these things must be going on in New York, or Tokyo. I bet the people in San Paulo have high school dance parties for grown ups. At any rate, I was sure they were happening anywhere but Vancouver. And then I found out Julie's friend had just held a slow dance party that weekend at his house. A slow dance party. In Vancouver. She deejayed the event, and for her efforts, she has been promoted to Commodore First Class Matson on Party Army. Their website states they're a s society dedicated to party-offs and according to their forum, there's a prom going on, AND a bring-your-own-flask bingo night. Hmmm. What with the awesomness of Hoko's last weekend, maybe Vancouver ain't so stodgy after all. F'real?
weeBay!
WOOT WOOT! Cheeks are still flush and adrenaline still pumping after winning my first eBay auction. I am victorious!! Vintage trench coat, thou art mine! C'est formidable!
Sidebar: Katie also said "bingo bango" in class, which may or may not have pump-pump-pumped up the volume even more.
