Winter Disaster!

My dad loves to ski, and he often goes out with his friends sometime during the winter season to go on a ski trip with them. He loves it. He always brings back great stories, and cool pictures.

I think my favourite story is his disaster story.

My dad would never do anything on the hill that would put himself in obvious danger. He never skis out of bounds, he hates moguls, and he has good control. However on one of his ski trips, he hurt himself very badlyHe wasn't doing anything wrong, it was just an accident. . I can't remember how it happened, but when he was skiing, I think he hit something, and he was basically lifted from the ground. How else do you describe it? It's like he tripped, but he fell... upwards? Momentarily, anyways. It was like he got great air, but that wasn't the intention at all. He said it was an amazing feeling, like he was flying. Until he hit the ground.

"Ow."

He said that's all he said after he hit the ground.

He didn't break or sprain anything, thankfully. But he was bruised black and blue on one side of his body. It engulfed almost the entire side of his body. I can't imagine how painful that would have been. I wonder how much damage someone so frail as me would have gotten in that predicament!!

When Children Get REALLY Excited!

I love children. I love their energy, and their perception of life and the way they walk and... I just love them!!

I guess there are two stories that really stand out for me when it comes to children getting excited. The first story is when I went to Cambodia.

I was there to do volunteer work. I mean, I was there for tourism purposes, also. But the most important (and my personal favourite) part of the trip was the volunteer work we did in the remote village a couple hours outside of the city.

On the first day, the children were quiet, watching us intently, from a distance. We soon learned a great ice-breaker is to bear gifts. Small things. Candy. We gave them candy. And then we started bringing stickers and bubbles and soccer balls. We showed them our photos on our digital cameras, and taught them English words, gave them high fives and danced with them. I can't decide whether it was me or them who were more excited!! We had become friends, and making new friends is always exciting.

That was pretty special. Knowing that so much happiness can come from something or someone that had been so foreign up until recent. It also goes to show that there really is no such thing as a language barrier. That you can reach out to people just fine, without words to guide you.

The other story happened a little closer to home. My little cousin Eric, who is now seven, but at the time was five, was hanging out with his family at our grandparents house. My family was there, too. And my grandparents have in one room, a framed photograph of every one of their children and their spouses, together, on their wedding day. This includes a photo of my grandparents on their wedding day. This particular day, after lunch Eric decided he wanted to name all of his aunts and uncles, which he did a very good job doing. But when he came to my grandparents picture, he stopped for a moment, and said, "I don't know who that is."

"Eric, that's Nani and Nana."

His facial expression changed so quickly and suddenly, and he started jumping up and down and stammering; kind of like the way I do when I get excited over something really awesome within a fandom I belong to.

"I can't believe that's really them!! They look so different! So... Wow!!!"

Seeing such excitement in somebody else stirred up all my emotions, too. It was so cool to see. One of the best moments I've shared with another person.

And that is my story.

'Tis The Season

I love the holidays. Despite the chilly weather, everything is so beautiful. The sparkling white snow engulfing the world in it's bright glow. The festive decorations on houses and shops. The sales on everything! Just one more reason to go shopping. Visiting family; the ones I love the most.

But what I think I like the best about the holiday season is it gives me the best gift I could ever ask for; ever.

Time off.

I love to travel. I love it. I love to get away and explore the world and break from the social norm that kills me slowly from the inside. This highly anticipated time off is truly a blessing. It doesn't matter where I go. It doesn't usually matter who I'm with. All I know is that when I can forget about all the stress, all the useless stuff that is preoccupying my life way too much of the time, I feel better. About everything. And that's good.

So, I'm grateful, to the holiday season for giving me something to look forward to; for giving me another reason to be happy.

This year, my family and I are going to Arizona. I'm excited; I've never been before. But I'm assuming it will be warm! And I like the heat.

Laughing

I love to laugh. I think laughing is one of the greatest gifts the world has to give, and I hope I can find a reason to laugh almost every day.

Sometimes I laugh so hard that no sound comes out. The last time I laughed that hard, I was with my mom and we were laughing at what is now an inside joke I can't quite describe.

However there are so many times when I laugh and sound does come out. Those situations are easier to explain.

I love it when you try to talk while you're laughing, and your voice gets really high, and you have a hard time saying whatever you were going to say, because you're laughing too hard. I was on Tumblr the other day (which is probably the greatest website ever and the main reason for any sort of procrastination I have) and one girl recorded herself trying to describe why something was so funny to her mom. You can't hep but laugh, too.

(Here's a link to watch it, because I think it's hilarious, and I hope it puts a smile on your face, too.)
http://melancholem.tumblr.com/post/35243127220/sollybot-sollybot-i-finally-recorded-myself

And then there's those times where you laugh so hard you're stomach muscles get tense, and you feel like you have six-pack abs. Or those times when you laugh so hard, you're laugh sounds unfamiliar to you. Has that ever happened to you? That situation, in and of itself is funny.

I also love to hear other people laugh, sometimes that's funnier than the actual joke.

There's a lot of things to laugh about, a lot of things to be happy about. And I'm grateful I can find things that make me laugh.

A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words...

I was having a hard time choosing a picture. Part of me wanted to write about something deep, and from the heart. Another part of me wanted to write something cute and sweet, and still from the heart. Both ideas were going to be indirectly (?) related to the picture, somewhat. But it was hard, matching up a story with a photo, and then deciding if I really wanted to share my feelings with the world. I decided against it.

But then I came across this picture in my iPhoto on the computer, and I decided to use this one. After all, this is a memory I really enjoy!

I really like photography. I like to take pictures of people, among lots of other things. Most of the time, I prefer it if people in photos look natural; and the best way to do that is to take it without them noticing. I've gotten to be good at it, at times. :3

So here I was, out shopping with some friends, and these two guys are just sitting outside, inhaling and then exhaling thin, grey wisps of smoke from their cancer sticks. Their style caught my attention. I really liked it! But I knew that it was a good idea in this case to ask first before taking a picture. They looked a little tough, and I didn't feel like coming home with bruises and a story about taking a picture of someone and them getting the wrong idea.

So my friend and I approach them, and I begin our short conversation with, "Excuse me..."

"Yes?" Was his reply, I think.

"May I take your picture?"

At this he looks at me strangely, and says, "Uuh, why?"

I think I said something like, "Just because." or "You look cool."

Well, whatever I said didn't really matter, because his reply was, "Uuh, sure."

I smiled a little, and said, "Great! Thanks!"

Then I tried to grab my small, battered, point-and-shoot camera, which I couldn't seem to find. That's when the "awkward silence" seeped in a little bit. I decided to try and fill the quiet air, not with cigarette smoke, but empty questions.

"Where are you from?" I ask. This is my default question when I talk to Orientals. Normally I can start a conversation about something if I know where their roots are.

"Oh you are from Japan? I am studying Japanese!" "Oh, really? All my best friends are Chinese..." "You're from Korea? I love MBLAQ!" That sort of thing.

But no, he was from one country in the Orient I knew barely anything about. I mean, all I could have talked about was politics and religion, and those are subjects I just don't like to bring up.

"Uh, Tibet."

"Oh, that's cool."

Once again, we remained in a situation I couldn't seem to loosen up. I kept the slight smile on my face, and he chuckled a bit with his friend.

When I finally pulled out my camera and turned it on, that's when he asked, "Um, what should I do?"

I smiled. "Just be you."

"Yeah, man! Just be you." His friend joked. We all had a little laugh, and this was how the picture turned out.



Okay, now fast forward a few months. It was partway through the summer. I needed a haircut, and jokingly said to my mother, "Maybe if my hairstylist was Asian, they'd do a really good job." (I don't stay with one hair stylist for very long.) So she booked an appointment at a hair salon with a Korean boy. Hoon was his name. I could tell immediately, he was Korean. I'm good at that sort of thing.

'Alright! I'm getting my haircut with by an Asian boy! I bet he'll do a good job! Should I ask to make it look Visual Kei? Or K-Pop? What does that even mean? "K-Pop hair"? What the hell? Wait! What if he's really good-looking? Korean boys are generally the best looking boys ever, so then what if I get super shy and say nothing? What then? Will my hair look terrible in the end? Maybe he won't even be a good stylist, and then I'd have to find another new hair stylist. Ugh. Just be you, right? Just be you.'

It turned out he wasn't my type, looks or personality wise, but he was really kind-hearted and we discussed music and how he really didn't like scary movies and I really did. He did a great job on my hair, too, after he lectured me for asking for it to be straightened ("You should love your hair for what it is!!").

Anyways, guess who also worked at the hair salon, too! Yeah, that's right!! My Tibetan buddy. My jaw dropped!! But he didn't seem to recognize me, until I told Hoon about how I met him; the picture I took, and the reason why. And Hoon asked him if he recognized me.

I formed a small grin and said, "I took your picture once."

"Oh yeah..." he shifted his glance from me to Hoon, "She did." He also wore a small grin; different from mine, a little more shy.

But, oh man. That was funny.
I mean, of all the places to just happen to see him again, never mind the fact that I never thought I'd see him again, it just happened to be in his workplace; a hair salon.
It makes sense, though. I mean, his hair is always so cool. I'm a little jealous of how cool it always is.

Every time I look at this picture, I will always remember the chain of memories that go along with it, and smile at how wonderful they were for me.

A picture is worth a thousand words...

Finding Money

As nice as it is to find money I didn't know I had, I can't say it happens to me all too often. Normally I leave all my money in my wallet, and so when I wear an old jacket after awhile, I only find things like small candies and pieces of paper.

But what's sometimes nice is "finding" money you didn't know you had, by receiving it as a gift.

Recently, some family from England came to visit us in Canada. We had a wonderful time together, so many wonderful memories were made out of this experience. And on the day before they left, both my sister and I received a nice gift of quite a bit of money. It was beyond kind of them to have thought of me and my sister. I have the world to thank for my fortunate life.

Sometimes, I find some spare change in my jean pockets, and that's pretty awesome, too.

I can't think of many times other than receiving money as a gift when I "found" money I didn't know I had. Nope, it's usually just candies and paper in my jacket pockets.

Self Introduction

My name is Isabel. Right now, I'm 16 years old and in grade 11. I love a lot of things.

I love everything Japanese! The culture, language, food, music, television shows/movies, art, and so on. This obsession began when I was in seventh grade. Someone recommended I listen to a band called The GazettE; a Japanese Visual Kei rock band. After hearing my first song of theirs, I immediately became hooked with their music, and the band itself as well. Not long afterwards, an obsession with Japan in general was triggered, and has continued to remain strong ever since then. Now, I am in my third year of learning the Japanese language and have, for two years in a row, graduated at the top of my class. Oftentimes, my fashion sense is inspired by Japanese and Korean street fashion.

I love all types of music. All types. Everything. At the moment, I have just a little over 18 thousand songs on my iPod/iTunes, and I can assure you, that number will increase later on today. Since the very first time I heard them, The GazettE has remained my favourite band of all time. It's my dream to see them live. I can't play any musical instruments except piano, but one day that will change. I want to learn many instruments! But of every instrument in the world, I want to be able to play the drums really well. I think it's a great way to get out a lot of built up tension, emotion, and energy without hurting anyone or anything in the process. I can sing okay, too.

I love art! I love all types of art. My goal after high school is to work in the field of art. I want to incorporate everything I love into my future work. To be able to do a little bit of all that I love. That's my dream. I want to be a better artist than I am, so it will take some practice. But I know I can do it!! If I get into my love for art any further, it will sound like a jumbled mass of nonsense.

I love horror. I love horror movies and surrealism and twisted minds inside even more twisted people. I have always been a morbid child. I wouldn't want it any other way. I don't understand why, but it's become a natural part of my every day life. Now, having a morbid, twisted mind that I've come to realize is not like most other people, has become second nature; something I've learned to live with.

I love to travel. I have been to various places in both Canada and the United States, Mexico, England, France, Belize, the Cayman Islands, Honduras and Cambodia. Of all the places I've been to, so far I've liked Cambodia the most. Maybe because it's the only time I've been to Asia, or maybe it's because the country is just breathtaking and incredibly unique and everyone is incredibly kind and much happier and carefree than people here. There could be many reasons for it. I can't wait to go back to Asia, when I go this spring, to Vietnam and Laos.

I love my family. My mother was born in Kenya (that's in Africa), but her parents are from Gujarat (that's in India). When she was about thirteen, she moved to Calgary, and hasn't been back to Africa since. My dad was born in Toronto, but the army sent him to Calgary. My family is HUGE. My mother is one of six children, and my dad is one of thirteen. I never really knew my dad's parents, because they both passed away before I knew them well. But my mother's parents are my favourite people in the whole world. My grandfather is like a very good friend to me, and my grandmother is my hero. I hope to grow up to be strong, yet good-hearted like her. I also have a little sister who is eleven, and a brother who is actually just a really good friend of mine. Mom calls him her son, my sister and I call him our brother. He's my age, but younger maturity wise. Don't let him know I said that.

And lastly, I love who I am. I feel strongly that I know exactly who I am, and who I am cannot be portrayed in the mere form of words. All I can say is that I have everything in my life to thank. Every breathtaking, terrible, amazing, indescribable moment I've ever experienced has shaped me into the person I am now. And this plain, white void that once was, continues to grow into something beautiful and strange with every new experience.

Obviously, there is a lot more to me than what I wrote. There always is. It is not unlike any other person on this earth. But I  hope you enjoyed this, even a little.

I wish you all the warmest regards.

-Isabel