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Monday, February 12, 2007
I just tried to upload pictures and it didn't work. Click here for the latest.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
People keep adding me on FaceBook. The thing is I'm not even on it. It's like getting mail to an address I don't live at. And I'm not going to move in just because of a Christmas card, if you know what I'm saying.I'm just sitting around waiting to play in this concert. I guess I could do my theory homework backstage, because backstage homework in theory I could do, I guess. Not only was that stupid, it took five minutes for me to think up. Maybe this wasn't so good of an idea. Uh, more later. Saturday, February 10, 2007
So, I've noticed some of you are still coming. That's very encouraging because that means half the hits I used to get aren't in search of something else. Like "world's largest fruitcake". That isn't to say that my site tracker isn't still reporting people coming by looking for pictures of "Jay Chou shirtless" or "do boogers smell".But sometimes it's nice to know you exist for reasons completely outside what you've set out to do. I've decided that writing on this site means that I will no longer edit anything for spelling mistakes or grammatical errors and that I will write in more of a stream of consciousness style. I started doing that because I was making fun of all the emails coming in with atrocious English, and it started catching up to me: Web Literary Bandits began writing me on every occasion that I messed up. "You said 'emersed' when it should actually be 'immersed'." That, and people started harping on every single thing that I said that offended them. So I started sitting there, trying to write something that I enjoyed writing about, and pretty soon, I fell into a formula. But let's face it: These days, I don't have a lot of time and none of you really care if I've thought twice about my pogonological treatises or not. In keeping with the high literary goals so levied by the kind of effective writing I've always upheld on this page, you'll be happy to know that I presently have a nose whistle and -- I checked it on the piano -- it's whistling at a very, very high B-natural. You can't tell me that's not cool. I've decided to keep my old template from way back in the day. Only the hardcore 8W locals remember this layout. I like it: Clean lines and colours. I've decided that the font on AdrianFungOnThe.Net is a little chunky and somehow the spacing doesn't quite work to grab attention. It's hard to write with any cadence when words keep wrapping around each other in a confusing array. Anyway. The other day, I was graciously given a ride to school by one of my Korean friends, who picked me up in her Korean car, and was listening to Korean pop music while eating a strange type of Korean candy (chocolate covered apple gummies). I think most people understand that Korean pop music has to be in existence somewhere, but no one really had the heart to actually search it out to experience it. Luckily for me, high art goes out of its way to find me. This one album was by a group called Brown-Eyed Girl. It has nothing to do with Van Morrison's nostalgic and misty hit -- but, from what I could understand, the group was very happy. ^_^ !! I noticed that "brown-eyed girl" worked on the level that it evokes images of pretty innocence, the ardour of adolescence, ponytails, and timid hopes for love. So naming your pop group that might be a good idea. At any rate, much better than "black-eyed girl", which I've decided is an immediately less comfortable topic. You'll be happy to know that I've decided to eat way more salad. I've decided lettuce-eating is very cool and a good way to meet girls. Not really. The real reason is that certain ladies in my life (my mom being one) have been very worried about my health. And I have to admit we all feel different after having eaten a large bowl of salad for dinner instead of a cheeseburger and fries. (The difference is that you're still hungry.) (Just kidding.) (Not really.) I usually don't get salads because I feel I could just make it myself. But the thing is I never do and, well, you may not know this, but there are ways to screw up salad. I went to the food court at Bloomingdale's and I was given a choice of four toppings. I was a little nervous because, let's face it, when I sidled up to the counter, none of the workers at the salad bar actually thought I was serious. The lady serving me gave me a placid look as if the joke was soon to be over and I would laugh in their faces and walk off with a giant steak soaking in gravy from next door, wielding manly eating utensils designed to tear into medium rare perfection. Unsteadily I asked her for mixed greens -- and then I totally blew it. I just shouted out a bunch of random things and ended up with gross combinations like goat cheese and miso sesame Asian dressing. I never really thought about what goes in a stupid salad. It's just lettuce and a bunch of other things. When it came to my fourth topping, I started pointing at everything and asking her what it was. She answered me tersely and with a small reserve of patience. Blue cheese. Those are pine nuts. That's brocolli. Raisins. Cauliflower. Apples. It's like I'd never seen an episode of Sesame Street. 
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