Maestro’s Adventures in Wonderland

Hey guys,

Sorry for the long absence, it's coming down to the crunch in school and I am slowly being suffocated by the looming work ahead of me. In any case I have a semi-entertaining story for you all (I restrained myself from writing "y'all" right there, be proud of me!) so without further ado…

For those that didn't figure it out, I meant Wonderland, not Wonderland. This past Sunday (May 23) my friends and I (Let's call them Matty and Lowtool) decided to christen our season passes with a trip to Wonderland. I could tell you about the trip minute by minute, but that would probably bore you to death, so I will only highlight the blog-worthy bits.

 

2 Girls, 1 Phone

If you know Wonderland, the three of us were sitting in on the edge of the fountain-pool-place near the entrance when two girls approached us and asked to borrow our phone for a call, their phone died. After a moment's hesitation, Matty gave them his phone, to the reception of a dazzling smile from the one girl. We then began to awkwardly make small talk amongst ourselves as this strange girl used Matty's phone.

Now, the obvious thing to do, and the thing that we were all thinking, would be to ask for their numbers, definitely not out of line. Though we were thinking this, I am not currently in a position where I would be able to do something like that and not feel guilty; Matty was in a similar, though somewhat delusional, situation, so the responsibility fell to Lowtool. This is quite amusing because out of the three of us, he has the least experience with women.

It was a tense few moments while this girl made her phone call, her friend stood awkwardly beside her and Matty and I made small talk while shooting glances at Lowtool who was staring at his shoes. This arrangement was kept up until the girl finished her call and handed Matty his phone back with a "Thank you so much!" seasoned with an accent that was at one time native to Britain, but somewhat acclimatized to Canada. Matty took his phone back with a mumbled thank you and the girls walked off into the crowd.

We spent much of the next half an hour berating Lowtool for not asking for their number. Not that any of us would ever do anything with it, but it would be good to know that we actually could if we wanted to. Either way, it was a wasted opportunity.

 

Some Guys on a Hill

(I was going to call this section "Two Fools on a Hill" after the Beatles song 'Fool on a Hill' but that may offend some people)

On the big hill (near the stage, where people eat lunch) the three of us decided to stop and eat our fries and cookiewiches (they wouldn't get funnel cakes…). As we sat down we noticed two shirtless guys just downhill from us. This wasn't really out of the ordinary as there were a few water rides open. It was a bit odd when one began rubbing sunscreen on the other, and it was really odd when he began focusing on his nipple. We just began to discuss them when one leaned over and gave the other a kiss. At this point the entire hill was focused on them. This continued the whole time we were there, one sat in the others lap and were very intimate. The whole hill was watching them while pretending not to. It wasn't even the fact that they were gay; this would be pushing the boundaries for even a straight couple. Anyway, it was an uncomfortable situation.

 

Trespassing

This anecdote shows the ranking of badassness in our threesome. It ranks as so: Myself, Lowtool, and then Matty in a far third.

In Wonderland there is a Concert Hall that is normally closed to the public. Today though, the gate was slightly ajar.

I convinced Lowtool to come with me to explore while Matty stayed outside the gate texting. As we rounded the path we saw a giant stage with drum kit and everything. It was totally empty. We ran around and explored for a bit before going back to get Matty. Once the three of us were there we explored all around the stage, including the open storage truck in back. We played the drums, jumped around on stage and finally sang into the nonexistent microphone (Lowtool wanted to say he said "Nigger" on the same stage as all these famous people). It was at this point that I saw the first employee walking along the path. I called out and all three of us instantly hid. Once he had moved on we decided to get out of there, and were walking towards the exit when two more employees spotted us and began to walk towards us. We ran.

Our adrenaline was pumping for another hour afterwards.

 

Hell

We had decided to stay past 10 to see the fireworks, which were amazing, and Matty's Dad and little brother came at around 8, parking in the parking lot. After the fireworks we raced to the car, getting there just in time to find a massive hellhole of horns and catawampus vehicles that was once the Wonderland parking lot. Mr. Matty was surprisingly calm for the TWO HOURS it took to get out of there. After about the hour mark, Matty began to act a bit strange. It began when he saw a really fat lady in a car who looked like a minor character in a movie he had seen. He began to freak out saying, "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! THAT LOOKS JUST LIKE HER! JUST FUCKING LIKE HER! I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE IT!" This sent Lowtool and I into spirals of laughter. He was quiet for a bit until his father pointed out a speed limit sign that was flipped upside down. I paraphrase slightly when I tell you that Matty went on a verbal rampage similar to, "WHAT THE FUCK? DOES NOBODY HAVE ANYTHING FUCKING BETTER TO DO THAN TO FUCKING VANDALIZE THIS FUCKING SIGN? SERIOUSLY!!! WHAT THE FUCK! OH MY FUCKING GOD!" He continued to rant about EVERYTHING.

"WHY THE FUCK IS THE GUARDRAIL WOOD CUT THAT WAY? IF YOU CUT THAT FUCKING END BIT OFF YOU COULD SAVE A WHOLE FUCKING TREE! THINK OF THE FUCKING ENVIRONMENT! MOTHERFUCKERS!"

"WE LEARNED ABOUT CLEAR-CUTTING AND SHIT IN GEOGRAPHY, WHY IS THERE ONE FUCKING TREE OVER THERE, NO OTHER TREES, JUST ONE LONELY FUCKING TREE! WHAT THE FUCK? WHO LEAVES ONE FUCKING TREE? WHAT MOTHERFUCKER LEAVES ONE FUCKING TREE ALONE? WHY IS THAT TREE SO FUCKING SPECIAL?"

"LOOK IN THAT DITCH. ROCKS, FUCKING ROCKS! WHO FILLS THE FUCKING DITCH WITH ROCKS? WHERE THE FUCK DID THOSE FUCKING ROCKS COME FROM? FUCK. CHOOSE, FUCKING GRASS OR ROCKS! ONE OR THE OTHER! FUCKING GRASS OR FUCKING ROCKS, NOT BOTH! WHO PUTS ROCKS AND GRASS? MOTHERFUCKER."

That continued for about 45 minutes while his Dad drove slowly and Lowtool nodded off on my shoulder. I wanted to kill myself.

 

We spent 16 hours out that day. It was fun all in all, but I now know that if you want to see the fireworks, park outside Wonderland.

 

That's it for today,

'Till next time,

-MAESTRO

Well that didn't happen...

Ok, so apparently the only way for me to get any writing done is to use it to procrastinate something else. To catch you up on my situation, I am sitting in business class; I have been back for about 3 days and am supposed to be taking notes. Instead I think I will continue my recount.


You may enjoy this: The internet is down so we are getting the work on a USB stick, when the stick came to me I decided to have a bit of fun with it, so I created a folder called “Private – DO NOT OPEN” and inside created two empty video files called “big.booties.[2001].DiVX.avi” and “girls.gone.wild.[2009].DiVX.avi”. It went around half of the class before someone made a big deal and the teacher saw. Immediately he knew it was me and asked me to remove it. He seemed pretty amused by it, but I have to stay after class, I’m not sure if he will take it in such good humour when the class is gone, I’ll fill you in on what happens later. 


Damn, there is actual work to do that needs to be handed in. Maybe I’ll continue this tomorrow.


One last thing: If you are just joining me, start a few posts back, that’s where this whole thing begins.


-MAESTRO


EDIT: I had to clean out desks after class, it was pretty painless. The teacher admitted that it was funny but that if the kids ended up getting a virus or something I could have gotten in big trouble

My Own Little Slice of Paradise

On an unrelated note, Black Velvet by Alannah Miles is stuck in my head.

Ok, right now I am lying on my bed in the hotel room. I am going to pick up my narrative where I left off. 


First, I should expand on what I was talking about before. I didn't want to write this before because the girl beside me, Jill, was reading over my shoulder (I hate that) and I didn't want to talk about her while she read. 


So, let's go back to the boarding of the plane. We had just learned that my brother and I were 4 rows in front of my parents, totally separated. We go to our seats and get comfortable when this girl (I say girl because she had that naive look about her, she was in her early twenties) found the seat next to me.


|-----------------------|   |----------------------|
|   A   |   B    |   C  |   |    D   |    E   |  F  |
|-----------------------|   |----------------------|


A = my brother
B = Me
C = OMG WTF RANDOM GIRL
D, E, F = Doesn't matter, only there to illustrate seat arrangement


So here comes this girl with a Pink tank top, Lululemon-esque yoga pants, a Gucci purse, a gym bag and a Yoga book who begins arranging her stuff in the seat next to me. Now, if you don't know me it is probably helpful to know that I am not comfortable with people I don't know. I try to avoid contact. For example, I would never stop someone on the street and ask them for directions, if I asked for onion rings instead of fries and got fries at a restaurant, I wouldn't go back to the kitchen and tell them, I avoid...I want to say conflict, but that's not the right word... like that. So here I was, hoping that this girl could care less about me, put in her music and read her book for the entire flight. At first it seemed like I was in luck, she smiled at me and said "Hello" to which I replied in kind (I may avoid situations such as this, but I still know how to act sociable). This didn't last long. Before we even took off she asked me a question which I didn't hear because I had my headphones on (One of those things, if there is someone you don't know who has headphones on, don't try and make small talk with them), but I noticed that she said something so I took one ear out and asked her what she said. "What's that about?" I was confused for a second before realizing that she meant the movie I was looking at on my little screen (which I already discussed). This was an obvious attempt at a conversation because she could have easily found the movie on heir’s and read the synopsis. Evidently I was confronted with a chatty person, one who meets someone and decides it is best to begin a conversation with them instead of leaving them to their own devices. I am NOT one of those people obviously. So I did my best to explain the plot of Shutter Island to this random girl I had never met. She made some comment about the movies probably costing money and I said my brother started one for free; he just had to sit through some commercials. In my tone I was sociable, but not welcoming, I answered the questions and asked counter questions, but it may have been noticeable that I wasn't looking for a real conversation. She continued making odd comments here and there such as "OMG, I love Two and a Half Men! It's hilarious!" or "I should make this a good movie, I won't have any movies for a month!” all of which I replied to with an appropriate response without delving further into her personal affairs. It wasn't 'till I took out my laptop to type my last post that she attempted to start a conversation by commenting out of the blue that her "iPod wouldn't sync with her laptop" and "If I had any ideas why that was." Either all teenagers are inherently techy in the eyes of those not so technologically inclined, or I just came across as a nerd. Either is possible. Or both maybe. Either way she eventually decided it would be best if she took out her laptop and iPod so I could show her what I was talking about. She booted up Vista (ew) and logged on to her account (by which I found out her name, it was Jen). As her desktop appeared I was surprised not to find the girly desktop I had expected (she had previously proclaimed that her favourite colour was pink, in case I couldn't tell), instead it was this picture. Yes, I actually went and looked for it on the internet. I had to, simply describing it wouldn't express the surprise I felt when I saw this as her background. And no, this wasn't a picture she just found while surfing and liked, you had to go in-depth on some unsavory sites to find this picture. What surprised me most of all was that she didn't seem embarrassed or try to make excuses, she didn't acknowledge her suggestive desktop or the fact that one of her gadgets was a slideshow of pictures of herself in either low cut tops or bikinis. Despite this, I tried to help her resolve her iPod issue (more of an iTunes issue actually), but to no avail (It probably didn't help that I was mostly focused on the episode of the Pacific that was occupying my eyes and the ear that wasn't facing Jen). Eventually she put her laptop away and began to fill out the immigration form that everyone received. I read the sheet over her shoulder (bad, I know, but she read my blog post!) and learned that she was staying in the Bahamas for a month to stay with a Swami to study yoga in an Ashram. Those familiar with yoga and Hinduism will recognize this. It is kind of like a secluded group that spends most of their time meditating and following the words of a leader, kind of like a cult, but usually for naive young people looking for a new lease on life. That may sound cold and cynical, and I am sure there are many legitimate ashrams and Swamis out there, but many are simply in the business to make easy money off of impressionable young people. Plus, Jen didn't strike me as the genuinely spiritual person. She had the book, the crystal necklace and the homeopathic remedy, but she seemed like someone hoping for an easy answer. She didn't exactly paint a picture of the perfectly humble student ready to toss off all worldly possessions at a moment’s notice with her Gucci bag, pink iPod and Sony laptop. I said all of this in my head, but not to her because she hadn't even brought up the subject. Even if she had brought it up, I probably would have played dumb and gotten her to explain it all to me. I am usually happier when someone else is talking, and people LOVE educating people about things they know about. But anyway... we made small talk off and on 'till we landed, never touching on her spiritual beliefs or her apparent narcissism/lesbianism. She did remark once that she was looking forward to not having any drama for a month. This only solidified my theory that she resorted to this belief as a refuge. Though I had said cynical view of her, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her when she remarked that she had absolutely no idea where she was supposed to go after the airport. I still felt bad for her when I saw her in the line at customs, looking strikingly alone in the crowd. You may think this is the part where I invite her to stay with us, start a surprising and taboo relationship with her (her being bisexual, not a lesbian) and I am writing this to tell you that I am abandoning my family and friends to spend a month in a Bahamian ashram. Well, you would be wrong. I haven't seen her since then and I don't really want to. I wish her well in her life. 


Wow, I just rambled for that long about the random girl I met on the plane. This is going to be a long post.


Ok, this is the part where I apologize to my friend for calling her a 'baby hater' because she doesn't love every small child she meets. I guess I have just had the good luck to be associated with amazingly well behaved young children. That changed today. There were two little girls sitting behind me and over the course of the (thought I felt a spider on me, can't be sure I didn't. I am freaky paranoid now) flight had 6 meltdowns in total and kicked the back of my chair countless times. I love children a little less now.


After leaving the plane we made the 10 minute walk from the gate to the immigration area. On the way, most of the walkways were in the open air, where we could feel the pressing Bahamian heat, with the warm breezes coming off of the ocean. It was glorious, especially after the plane ride. In the immigration line we were all in awesome moods (except for my Dad, he was craving a smoke) so we were joking back and forth. At one point my brother remarked that it would be extremely difficult for Mr. T to get past immigration and customs. To quote my little brother, "The guy would ask, 'What is the reason for your stay?' and Mr. T would be all like, 'I pity da foo who ask u nutha nosy question!'" This amused me to know end. One thing that is striking about the Bahamas is that everyone is friendly. Not just "O, it's my job to act friendly so I am smiling" kind of friendly, but genuine, happy to be alive friendliness. It's like a black Newfoundland. We had a shuttle from the airport to the resort, so we got to see some of the beautiful city of Nassau. The first thing I noticed once we started to drive was that they drive on the left hand side (as does much of Europe), but their drivers seats are still on the left side (as with American cars). The next thing I noticed was the reckless driving in the city streets. This is nothing like you would ever see in Canada (I imagine it is close to what Indian traffic is like). There were cars honking, parking, weaving in and out, speeding, barely moving, etc. The driver said this is a good day, we should see it on Sundays. We are taking the shuttle back to the airport. On Sunday.


It is nearing midnight and I must sleep or my parents will kill me. Hopefully I will continue this post tomorrow night, with additions from my day tomorrow.


-MAESTRO

Sky High

For the time being, I think this wins hands down for the post written at the highest altitude. I am at the moment somewhere over the northeastern United States, just leveling off at a very comfortable 3500 ft above sea level. 


There are those who dislike flying, even hate it, but to be honest, I really enjoy it. 


This morning wasn't the perfect morning by far. Though our flight was at 9:30, my parents decided that they wanted to leave the house at 6:30 sharp. I made sure I packed everything, showered and set my clothes out the night before so I could sleep as much as possible this morning. My parents decided to do me a favour and get me up with an hour to spare so that I could "wake up before we leave". It was not fun. I was ready in 10 minutes and spent the other hour pretending to be busy so that people didn't ask me to do things. That sounds really bad but I was in a crappy mood (I always am in the mornings, I am NOT a morning person). There was some tension between my mom and me as we left but that's not important. We got to the airport at around 7:10 to the sultry sounds of the announcer telling us that the check out system is down and check in may be slower than usual. When they say slower they mean that the attendants stood there for half an hour while the system was fixed. After we got through the baggage check we made our way to security. People should have enough common sense to know what to do at security. There are signs posted everywhere and (OOOOOH, Mississippi river!) people should figure out that it is not a good idea to walk through the metal detector with your blackberry, iPod, PDA and a pockets full of loose change. Anyway, once you get past security there is that awesome moving walkway, it feels like you are some sort of superhero walking that slow, but that fast at the same time (Yes, I know I have no life). Once you get to the gate is when the real fun starts, you have all the restaurants and Duty Free shops, I Iove it. Free wifi, timmies, comfy seats, it's nice.


Then comes the plane. Last 2 times I flew it was with WestJet. I dislike WestJet. Heartily. All of their entertainment costs money (There is a credit card slot in the back of the seat) and there is no leg room. At all. This time we are flying with Air Canada who has tons of legroom and the most complete entertainment system you could imagine. It has a huge selection of TV shows, movies, music, games, satellite radio, etc. All free. Right now I am charging my laptop in the back of the seat while typing this, eating an Aero bar and watching Avatar. This isn't even first class, even the thought of the first class seats makes my mouth water.


That’s about where I am now, on my way to sunny Atlantis, Paradise Island in Nassau, Bahamas, looking over the beautiful American countryside.


'Till later,
-MAESTRO

I Am Alive

Hey all,


Don't worry, I haven't disappeared from the face of the earth yet (I showed those aliens who's boss).


In my absence I visited the Bahamas (Dad had a business conference, barely paid). I started to write some of my memories down while I was there. I was going to post it then, but I was trying to relax and I didn't want people to know that I had communication potential, even if it was intermittent. 


Anyway, I shall post what I have so far (2 posts) and hopefully I will force myself to write up the rest of it soon.


Enjoy,
-MAESTRO

Upon This Rock I Will Build My...Gym?

Ok, so today my family and I went to a friend of the family's first communion (Mom is her Godmother).
My Dad and I weren't very ecstatic to be sitting for two hours in a stuffy church not understanding anything that is said (It's a french church). We followed the directions and found ourselves in a school gym with metal folding chairs set up in the place of pews. So, instead of sitting respectfully through the service, Dad and I decided to mock the entire service shamelessly. Here are some excerpts from our conversations:


Me: What do we do about kneeling? There are none of those knee-rest thingies.
Dad: This is a hardcore church, they use the floor.


Me: I thought you would have taken the opportunity and taken a while in the 'bathroom'
Dad: Didn't want to miss the cannibalism, are we eating Christ yet?


Dad: Dammit, they blocked cell reception,  it's a conspiracy to make us pay attention!


Dad: How long has it been?
Me: About an hour.
Dad: Is it half-time yet? Intermission?


Dad: [gesturing to the lady in front of us] I dare you to pinch her butt. 
Me: What? You're crazy.
Mom: What did he say? 
Me: He dared me to pinch her butt.
Mom: Hahahaha...I dare you.


Me: What do they need donations for? Gym upkeep?


Me: Is it snacktime yet?


Dad: The only reason they make us sit and stand so much is to keep us from falling asleep. It works too, interrupted a nice nap...

Mom: Where is she?

Me: Over there, in the lunch line.

Dad: O great, we get to go to a party with the guy who has a cross tattooed on his neck.

Mom: Better to have him with you than against you. I knew him growing up, and he used to chase me with a two by four. 

Me: HA! Did it have nails in it?

Mom: Yes, it did actually.

Mom: Stop guys, you are being disrespectful to the... Gym...

Dad: This is around the point where your grandpa and I used to sneak out.

Me: Just take a break for a bit?

Dad: No, we'd wait until there were 2 minutes left before slipping back in.

Dad: Can you understand what that says?

Me: Yea, you want me to translate?

Dad: No, just tell me if it means "Prayer of Ending"

Me: Did they say "Menage a trois, seigneur Jesus?"

Mom: No! "Louange a tois, seigneur Jesus."

Dad: Hehe, menage a trois!

Sometime around then Dad and I descended into uncontrollable giggles (Which are worse in a Catholic Mass than business class apparently) and Mom had to split us up.

Sorry if I have offended any people out there, it wasn't my intention, but then again, you don't have to read this blog if you don't want to.

Paix avec vous 

(paixsdfsdfsadfsnkjljlijkljlklkj)

-MAESTRO