Friends and Acquaintances

All children, except one, grow up

Suffice it to say, today was a great deal more invig­or­at­ing than I had expec­ted. After a late start to the day (break­fast — or brunch, more appro­pri­ately), I headed off to the theatre to watch Despicable Me with L and A. Having bought our tick­ets (and then vacil­lat­ing whether or not we wanted to sit in a dark, empty theatre so as to save the best seats), we headed in and claimed our Real 3D glasses.

I’m hav­ing a bad, bad day
If you take it per­sonal, that’s okay
Watch, this is so fun to see
Huh, despic­able me.
– Pharrell, “Despicable Me”

The movie, by all means, was great. The story was fun, the humour well-​timed and (gosh darn it!) the orphan girls were so sweet! This makes me think that every­one ought to be forced to care for the young. Perhaps we’d have less vil­lains that way? Behind our seats, a whole row was reserved for (what we assumed) was a birth­day party. Hearing the chil­dren giggle with glee behind us wasn’t as annoy­ing as I might have ima­gined — it was quite fun to have them behind us! (Too bad L was thwapped on the head by an overzeal­ous child…)

After a rather long jour­ney to pro­cure a screen pro­tector for A’s (new!) BlackBerry Bold 9700, we wandered over to Chapters where we dis­covered, much to our mutual pleas­ure, that we could have din­ner together. We ate at The Boss (where I learned that I don’t actu­ally know how to order beef in Cantonese…how do you indic­ate how well-​cooked you want the meat?!).

Once full, we left the res­taur­ant to a rap­idly clos­ing mall. We wandered over to a water foun­tain out­side to won­der what we could do. I sug­ges­ted we take a stroll in Central Park (des­pite my great fears of creep­ers run­ning amok in the wooded areas). Off we went.

After dodging incom­ing golf balls from the pitch-​and-​putt and trekking through the verd­ant trees, we sat on a bench and noticed two people appar­ently shout­ing at one another. Perplexed, we gazed on to notice a man in a blue cape yelling to some people fur­ther away. Nosily, we inched closer and closer until…we noticed that it was a pro­duc­tion! Outside! In the park! For free!

All children, except one, grow up   35878 1283880990539 1635540069 645313 746012 n 300x225

Enthralled, we found ourselves sit­ting on the grass (and swat­ting away the copi­ous amounts of vam­piric mos­qui­toes) and try­ing to unravel the storyline. As it turns out, it was a pro­duc­tion of Neverland: Beginnings by Rainforest Theatre, a small local com­pany. We watched with glee as Peter Pan was nearly wed­ded to the daugh­ter of the pir­ate king and as we learned how Captain Hook gained (lost?) his eponym­ous append­age. With subtle amuse­ment, we gazed on as one over­ex­cited child-​spectator inched closer and closer to the act­ors until he was actu­ally sit­ting within the action, gaz­ing upward and ask­ing, “Can I see that?!”

I found it so magical that serendip­ity (and, admit­tedly, a reluct­ance to return home to do read­ings for ENGL 468) led us to a the­at­rical pro­duc­tion in the ancient pulse of germ and birth. I thought I had encountered some­thing out of Midsummer Night’s Dream! (But of course not. My appoint­ment to see Henry V is this Friday.)

It is some indic­a­tion of my great love for the theatre but I adored the way the act­ors inter­ac­ted with the audi­ence and with their sur­round­ings. With little more than some light cos­tum­ing, they cre­ated a world into which their children-​spectators could be drawn by sheer cha­risma. And what is a more nat­ural set­ting for a the­at­rical pro­duc­tion than the forest?

The play fin­ished and every­one dis­persed. We headed over to P’s house to play poker briefly before I was summoned home with great dis­pleas­ure at my waywardness.

And I could wish my days to be bound each to each with such won­der, joy and serendipity.

a single man in possession of a good fortune

I’m still feel­ing the effects of the blahs described in my last post but I have a feel­ing that I’m well on the way to recov­ery. School, on the bright side, should stim­u­late my mind at the price of my sleep cycle and it’s nice to be around people once again. I’ll prob­ably be too busy to rumin­ate and complain.

I’m almost done Sleeping Murder though I have a sus­pi­cion my interest in Agatha Christie nov­els has plat­eaued which, admit­tedly, is a shame. It does, how­ever, inspire me to want to write my own period mys­tery stories.

Recently, I’ve become hooked on Glee, my replace­ment for the recently can­celled Pushing Daisies. It’s spark­ling with effer­ves­cent good humour and (dare I say it?) glee. Hopefully it lives up to all the hype and has a great run for this sea­son. I would hate for it to die like Pushing Daisies did.

Oh, and every­one should watch this video — Michael Bublé will be com­ing out with a new album and this is one of his songs. It just cheers me up to hear this song:

I’ll be try­ing more and more to look on the bright side of things from now on.

then be not coy

For the past few days, I have been try­ing to spend as much time with C as pos­sible, know­ing that she leaves for law school in Hong Kong. Today, we gathered at the air­port to see her off, once and for all.

[nggal­lery id=2]

more uncomfortable and unacceptable than dirt itself

My father’s fam­ily name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names noth­ing longer or more expli­cit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.

Jugina Tsang as Mrs. Joe GargeryJi Zhuang as Joe Gargery Allison Tang as Biddy

Chloe Charm as Miss HavishamCindy Ko as Estella

David Lau as JaggersPatricia Wong as Herbert Pocket

Thy firmness makes my circle just

  1. King of Swords
  2. Knight of Cups
  3. The Hermit
  4. Two of Wands
  5. Three of Swords
  6. Ten of Swords
  7. Three of Wands
  8. Seven of Cups
  9. Ace of Pentacles
  10. The Sun

A close friend of mine recently announced her imme­di­ate depar­ture to study law in Hong Kong for the next four years. I con­tinue to vacil­late among feel­ings of dis­be­lief, of delight and of dumb shock.

It’s strangely illu­min­at­ing, hav­ing someone leave my life so sud­denly and so imme­di­ately. It makes me feel like a fixed point in time and space, anchored to my life in Vancouver while someone travels across time (dif­fer­ences) and space to settle down some­where else. I feel strangely like the Time Traveler’s Wife, inap­pro­pri­ately enough.

I was never someone good at say­ing farewell.

Wednesday, August 26th, 2009 Friends and Acquaintances, Meditations, Tarot 2 Comments