All I want for Christmas is a tazer

It takes me about an hour, more or less, by ttc to get from home to work every day.
Bus, subway, streetcar.

In general, taking public transit in Toronto is an extreme hazard to your sanity and even more so in the winter when everyone is wearing enough winter gear to double their body mass. It's crowded and exhausting and everyone smells like wet sheep! Now it's worse people, because now you have to worry about Frotteurs.

Never heard that word before? Yea, neither have I, until this morning.
So I'm getting on the streetcar and it's a mission to get standing room but I try to tune out my discomfort by reading my book but apparently I did it too well. A couple of minute go by and I start to become aware of something or someone pressing against my back, more specifically around my bum. Hm. Curious. I slowly looked behind me, assuming it was just someone unaware that they were standing too near or their bag was hitting me. Instead, I see a guy, burgundy toque, a little on the short side, Hispanic (I'm being specific in case you encounter him). He had been pressing himself against my bum purposely and I moved to the side on the streetcar, further away and saw that he was sporting thin pin-striped dress pants and a hard on.

I was so flabbergasted!!! This actually happens?! Really?! Are you kidding me ASSHOLE?
It was beyond comprehension that someone like this existed that I contented myself to merely glare at him. 'People don't actual do things like this. I must've imagined it,' is how I rationalized it at the time but you can't really rationalize a BONER away. UGH!! Now that the shock has worn away, I would have castrated him. If not literally, then at least publicly!

So just to clarify, frotteurism refers to a paraphilic interest in rubbing, usually one's pelvis or erect penis, against a non-consenting person for sexual gratification. It usually occurs in crowded places like a train or a concert where a victim cannot easily respond. You can charge the douchers as it is considered a sexual assault! I only found all this out after the fact which is why I'm blogging about it. If it happens to you, react quickly and not when it's too late to do anything about it!

Sigh.
Adding a tazer to my Christmas list.

~T

Write It Down

I wonder if there's a word for someone like me.
A magpie is a bird that gathers shiny things.
I gather information.
Sometimes it feels like my brain is whirling so fast that the wheels inside my brain are going to spin off into oblivion. So many tangents that go unexplored. So many thoughts that are overindulged.

I try to write down the ideas that really touch my; that I want to peruse later at my leisure.
I feel more.....secure knowing that I've caught that fleeting bit of inspiration.
The problem is.....
that I don't always remember where I wrote it down.
Boo.

That was one punch too many, sir.

The last 2 months have been an adjustment.
You know when something happens and it shakes you to your core.
Everything you knew about yourself shifts. It's slight.
Nothing at all, really because everything is the same.
But that slight change makes your whole world look different
and the compilation is enough to destroy your sanity.
Boom.

The worst part about it is the loneliness because no one can be there.
No one can help you b/c it's IN you.
It renders the most empathetic person, superfluous.
The isolation drives you crazy because you can't get a second opinion.
You start to think you're irrational and that you're so damaged
but truly, being yourself isn't baggage.

The last 2 months were hard...
because I was trying to make myself something I am not.
Thinking that other people are using ME as a measuring stick
when really it's me who's comparing myself to everyone else
and because I don't measure up the same way, I feel like I have to conform.
I apologize; I feel bad that I'm this way? I apologize....for being me?
There's no one to apologize to. It's all me.

Your 20s kinda suck.
Sure, you're young, you're hot, you feel adult w/ your bills and your apartments, your fancy vacations ....but you have NO IDEA who you are and what's worse is that you don't know who you want to be.

It seems like a "duh" moment....but sometimes the most obvious things are the hardest to really comprehend because you hear it so often it becomes like white noise.
I'm working on embracing ME.
I mean, I'm not doing things that are not my nature, I couldn't if I wanted to (believe me, I've tried) but I WANT to be and that's the worst part. Wanting to be something you're not instead of accepting who you are. Being brave and unapologetic and saying "Yea, this is me. You don't like? You don't have to."

Like I said...it's not a groundbreaking revelation in the general sense
but to personally realize it within yourself is a gift.
The tricky part is figuring out if you have actually achieved it,
or if your belief that you've achieved it is a delusion.

Anyways, that's just what I'm working on in myself.
Convincing myself that it's alright to be me and no one else.
Time to throw away that measuring tape!

xo
T

An Apology

Dear Blog:

I am so sorry for neglecting you.
Today I have pinpointed a problem of mine.
Oh, you're ignoring me. I guess I deserve that.
Well, I'm going to tell you anyways.
Problem: I delay starting things (i.e. blogging) b/c I think it'll be too time consuming.
I am a personal time hoarder.
I can't help it!
I wake up, take the ttc to work (1hr there, 1hr back),
get out of work at 5:30-ish then I get home, eat, shower, exercise then it's almost time to sleep!
So I feel like passing out in front of the t.v. passively for my last "free" hour.
....
...
...
Ok, you're right.
I'll try harder.

Here's a peace offering.





Model: Chris Rutkowski
MUA & Hair Stylist: Marcia Garnes
Photography & Post Process: Teri Yeung

I got something done! Woo!

How.

How many more times can I pick myself up and dust myself off.
How much longer do I have to fight, hope, pray.
How many times can I tell myself that it's going to be okay, it's not my path, God has another plan for me.
How much longer til I lose faith.
How much more can I take.

Give me some answers.
Damnit.

Lost & Found.....then Returned!

I stopped blogging....and I had been doing a good job of updating somewhat frequently! I did that thing where I was like, ok. I'll update regularly once I finish renovating my room/design my header/design my website, etc...

Silly Teri. Trix are for kids. It's never going to happen so I might as well blog and get out some of my crazy to keep from imploding.

Yesterday I was missing my T.G.I.F. euphoria. I was distracted and worrying, way too in my own head and I did a couple of errands before taking the subway home. As I was at Keele station, my phone rang. Now, usually I don't have my ringer on b/c I turn it off at work and neglect to turn it back on at all let alone right after work but for some reason, that day I did. So I picked up at one of the few stops where I can actually get reception underground and at first it sounded like it was a telemarketer asking for "Miss or Mrs...blah blah blah" and I nearly hung up b/c I was feeling so drained; too drained to be polite to a telemarketer.It turns out I had left my work journal next to the back machine near my work downtown and some LOVELY person found it, looked at my number inside and called to return it!! I didn't even know it was missing! I had a freak out b/c I don't think there's anything (inanimate) that I value more at the moment! We had decided to meet later in the evening so I could retrieve my prized possession but I later decided I couldn't bear worrying about it for a moment longer so I went to go meet my savior back downtown even though I had been on the subway for an hour already.


You may think I'm making a big deal over a ratty journal and don't be mistaken, this isn't a "Dear Diary...I had a bad day..blah blah blah...I have a crush on..blah blah blah..." bullshit journal. I had read in Sagmeister's book Made You Look that the one of the smartest things he ever did in business was keep a work journal. For those of you not familiar with design rockstars he is one of them and I admire him and his work so started my own work journal. It literally has my LIFE in it! Everything; my ideas, names of creatives I admire, things I aspire to be, goals, dreams, hopes, fears, names of people I've met & want to meet, numbers, dates!!!! Everything relevant to who I am; how I see myself. I couldn't live w/o being creative; expressing myself, and this little nondescript book is an extension of my overfull mind. It has ALL my uncensored CRAZY in it. Have I impressed upon you how essential it is to me yet?


I was SO unbelievably grateful to this stranger for returning it to me! So thankful that a less morally sound person didn't find it and vandalize it and scatter the pages throughout the streets of Toronto. I shudder at the thought! So I get on the subway for another hour to get to the Eaton Centre where this good samaritan is, we shall call her J. I just kept thinking it was unavoidable for her to not look through the pages of my brain and even less avoidable for her to realize that I'm certifiably insane after reading the nonsensical things that go through my brain by the second. I wouldn't have blamed her for leaving it w/ a cashier or somewhere else so she wouldn't have to meet me face-to-face but there in the fiction section of Indigo, we met.

Not only did she return my prized possession to me, she was ridiculously sweet and understood my crazy! It turned out that J mistook my ramblings for genius saying that her friends and she were all intimidated to meet me and told her she'd need a dictionary to be able to understand what I was saying, based on the writings in my book! She gave me too much credit but I loved her all the same for it. Made. My. Day. Not only was she an example of human goodness for returning my book for no other reason than to be a decent person, but she inspired me to improve myself by saying that I inspired her! Nothing feels better than that. There is no bigger compliment to me than for someone to say that I inspire them! It is humbling. It makes me want to be the person they think I am.

So this entry is really about thanks. Thank you J for finding and returning my journal. Thank you for inspiring me. Thankyouthankyouthankyou (I am not exaggerating how much I value this book). I owe you a cookie. Enjoy the Philippines!

xo
T

p.s. I clutched that journal my my chest for about an hour after it's return!

Design does WHAT now?

So funny. This is a slide that Saul Griffith, an inventor, kicked off his presentation at an AIGA event, Compostmodern.

I swear, this is what I was thinking all second year at OCAD when I was sitting in my Think Tank class and we were going around the room and people were saying why they got into design. People actually said it was to "change the world." Really? Seriously. So it wasn't just because you were the best artist in your highschool and you liked to doodle in the margins of your notebook? I dunno...maybe they were being sincere....but I doubt it.

I'm not saying that design doesn't have the power to change the world; influence it...but it sounded so insincere and poseur in that class. It is the equivalent of pageant queens saying they want "world peace."

Anyways, that's just me being a bit cynical :P