Ron and me.



I am in love...sliced potatoes (or that's what they claim them to be) fried to a golden crisp (in pure lard) and little nuggets dripping with the wholesome goodness (of pure grease), for the low price of $2...mmm...mmmm.

Had my 3rd MacDonald's fry/nugget combo this week. And despite much controversy over the matter, I still think MacDonald's fries are awesome and MD's is the place to go...and, as you can see, me and Ronald go way back...

The Alice in Wonderlad Test says that:

'You are passive and unobtrusive most of the time, but when you do wake up to reality you've got quite a bit to say. Even if it's pure nonsense. You may be cute, but that doesn't prevent you from being quite a twerp.'

hm...I think I agree with the nonsense and the twerp part...darnit...I'm addicted to online quizzes...

In response to Lyd's "a boy like this" and in continuation of my conversation with my mother, I have decided to post my criteria for the "perfect guy". Actually they’re not all my ideas…actually most of them aren’t…but anyway, here goes...the perfect guy for SUPA:

Criteria #1) 6’1”, no taller no shorter...One day back in high school, with nothing better to, Wyer and I tried to calculate the perfect height for guys. We concluded that a couple looks best when there’s a 3-inch height difference. Since we both wear 3-inch heels, 6 inches taller would be just righ. Which was lucky because our boyfriends were both 6 inches taller than us; Smitty’s 6’3” (Wyer 5’9”), and Mike was 6’1” (I’m 5’7”)…but God only knows what she’s doing wearing 3-inch heels to begin with…SHE’S 5’9”

Criteria #2) Caucasian…It all started back in 2nd grade in Edmonton, with a crush on Kris Davis, brown hair green eyes…or was it blonde hair blue eyes…wait brown eyes...or was his name Sam? Whatever, point being, he was white. But then I moved to HK and this preference became dormant for a period of several years while I drooled over Aaron Kwok and Andy Lau (I know, what was I thinking?!?!).
But then one day a friend Sharon noted how all Asian-Caucasian mixed children turn out really really cute…and I WANT CUTE CHILDREN…so white guys it would be! And to further enforce that I spent 2 years in a boarding school in white suburban Ohio…in too deep…can’t get out…All-(North) American baby! (And yes, the above-mentioned Mike was white).
White guys also tend to meet criteria #1 more often than their Asian counterparts.
I do have an occasional attraction towards African American guys. (Just in case Yu-Ling is reading this, I do NOT have Jungle-Fever), but since there is no real guarantee what the kids would look like, I think I’ll stick to white for now (I know my mom will be relieved to hear that…).

Criteria #3) Near-death, or in either a high-stress/ high-danger line of work…I know this sounds horrible, but this was Fitz’s brilliant idea. See this is his reasoning…I am incapable of staying in a marriage; firstly, I can’t be touched period. For those who have tried, you know what I mean, and for those who have not I warn you against it, coz some WILL get hurt (…and it’s usually me). Secondly, I can’t share a bed with anyone; if I even feel someone’s presence next to me, I can’t sleep! All my life, be it my sister, my best friend, sleepovers…and I refuse to spend the rest of my life sleep-deprived…BUT…I do want children; cute, Asian-Caucasian-mixed children for that matter! So Fitz decided that the best way for me to go is marry then wait for him to die…morbid I know…But Tony says marrying me to begin with would be stressful enough to kill anyone off.

BEWARE! Superfat...





Just a warning...after spending hours in a computer lab (and when people don't sign the guestbook I put so much effort into setting up....) I go crazy and break out into fits of violent rage...no wait...I think that was just Halloween two years ago...oops!

~ Tuesday, March 26th, 13:00. Connie walks into the Somerville house computer lab, she's relaxed, confident...she knows what she's doing. The assignment's done, well almost, just need to add the legend to the graph and then run it. She'll do it after the lecture; it'll take about 10 minutes...
14:16 (after the lecture), the legend's added, the last step to run the script file and print the graphs. She types the command "rossler2" into the command window and hits enter, waiting for figures 1,2 and 3 to pop up. The window for figure one appears...but then...........ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE!!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
The window freezes, and it's all grey...Connie clicks it hoping that it'll do something (keep in mind she's computer illiterate)...but nothing happens. She clicks something else...nothing happens. Then all of a sudden things start blinking at her. She opens her mouth to scream, but no sound comes out....the computer is possessed!!!...


Well ok, it wasn't that dramatic, but close enough, the freezing and blinking were all real. And three computers froze a total of 5 times during the 2 1/2 hours I ended up spending on the stupid thing. Rossler equation my butt!
Seriously though, what was my prof thinking...assignment 9, question2 asks us to integrate 2 sets of values then plot them three times each, from 0 to 300 with 0.01 increments!!!! That’s 30 thousand points each integrated twice, then plotted 6 times. No computer in those PUBlabs can do that without freezing about 20 zillion times over...what kind of crack was she on when she wrote the assignment!??!?!?!...

~ 16:46, been 2 1/2 hours, figures 1 and two have finally loaded...now only figure 3 left...it's loading, slowly but surely (or so Connie thought). She goes to Tim Horton's to buy a coffee, thinking it'll be all done when she gets back.... BUT...IT'S not.... frozen again. Connie throws a temper tantrum then finally gives up. Screw this 0.01 increment thing...she changes it to 10, runs the file again...ha!, completes in 48 seconds, figure 3 looks nothing like it should…should Connie change it..ie start all over again?...YEAH RIGHT!!!!!

Was going to put those graphs here to let you all see what a royal waste of time it was trying to produce them, but I don't have them on me (I left my disk in the lab, and there's not way I’m going back till the next lecture). I tried running the script file on my computer...and guess what, it froze...surprise surprise!

Where am I? Who am I?

Where's Supa????

Believe it or not, I wasn't always a freak...there was a time when the Superfatconball was your plain girl-next-door. Just another good little girl in a plead skirt and knee-high socks. Back in 4th grade, my teacher told my parents I was quiet and needed to talk more. 5th grade they thought I was a sad kid that never smiled...oh boy, if my teachers could only see me now.

SUCCESS!!!! Put a picture up!!!! YEAH!!!!! I know it's bad quality, but it's a picture none the less...One step closer to world domination!

look ye here...miss computer-illiterate (i.e. me) has figured out (with some help =P) how to add links to a webpage. Exciting stuff, I know (they're in the left green box under the archives if you didn't see them already). I even have a guestbook (it's in the top left blue box...just in case you missed it earlier)....please do sign it!
At this rate I'm going, pretty soon I might even have (*hold your breath*)....pictures here. Then I can tell people I have a homepage and it won't be that big of a stretch.
Working my way up there baby, started with a blog, have now some kinda blog-homepage hybrid...pretty soon I'll rule the world...yeah me!

I called my mother the other day. Actually I called my dad to ask about tax returns and such, but ended up talking to my mom anyways. And as these conversations always go, she somehow manages to squeeze in the same, "Connie do you have a boyfriend?"...And of course the answer same answer I’ve been giving for the past two years has been "No, mother!" This is then to be followed by some sort of advice on my so-called "problem". Since I can foresee conversations as such being repeated constantly into my late 20's, 30's and even 40's, I decided to take the risk of mentioning that staying single isn't really all that bad. I even went far enough to quote how my sister thinks I may possess the gift of singleness. BOY OH BOY did she not like the sound of that!

She asked in that fashion that mothers do, what I was going to do when I was 30, husbandless and all alone...Hmm, I thought about it for a sec..."Move back in with you and Dad", I replied. My idea was that I'd support them (with the money from that job I'm supposedly guaranteed to have when I graduate), we'd go on weekend golf trips, and we'd chill, and life would be great. I think I gave her a heart attack. She nearly screamed...she did not like the idea of that.

You see, my dad and I are very similar (or so I'm told), and my mother doesn't think she'll be able to stay sane if she has to put up with the both of us in her old age. So she's not going to take me in if I become an old maid...which means, *darn* I'd better find get married...which means (*double darn*) I'm going to have to find someone to marry.

SOME SPECIAL KINDA STUPID!

Skinny people irritate me! Especially when they say things
like, "You know, sometimes I just forget to eat."
Now I've forgotten my address, my mother's maiden
name, and my keys. But I've never forgotten to eat.
You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat.

Things about life I learnt from people's AOL info's:

Sometimes, when it seems that my life is spinning downward in an ever-tightening spiral, like the murky water of a seemingly endless toilet bowl, I harkon back to my early childhood days and think, "if I only knew then what I know now, I never would have eaten so much taco bell"
Mikem60

"Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday."

"It has been said that man is a rational animal. All my life I have been searching for evidence which could support this. "

"Some see the glass as half-empty, some see the glass as half-full. I see the glass as too big."

"Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as gods. Cats have never forgotten this."

"What can you say about a society that says God is dead and Elvis is alive?"

"Computers let you make more mistakes faster than anything except handguns and tequila..."


"The basic idea behind malls is that they are more convenient than cities. Cities contain streets, which are dangerous and crowded and difficult to park in. Malls, on the other hand, have parking lots, which are also dangerous and crowded and difficult to park in, but -- here is the big difference -- in mall parking lots, THERE ARE NO RULES. You're allowed to do anything. You can drive as fast as you want in any direction you want. I was once driving in a mall parking lot when my car was struck by a pickup truck being driven backward by a squat man with a tattoo that said Charlie on his forearm, who got out and explained to me, in great detail, why the accident was my fault, his reasoning being that he was violent and muscular, whereas I was neither. This kind of reasoning is legally valid in mall parking lots." - WRA2000

Ah the sun is out today...maybe it will be a good day...

I was upset about it yesterday, but I decided to give it a day to smarten up, but no...second day of spring and Joanie and I had to venture through a blizzard to get to the mall today. My trip to SportsCheck reminded me of some trek across the Artic Circle, and to think just last week the weather was so nice I climbed out of my lab window...

Let me explain that a little more, I'm sure if you were in my position you would have done the same.
Thursday afternoon, beautiful day, sun was shining, temperature was above zero, the grass was a muddy, just dried kinda green. And guess where I was, stuck in a Unit Operations lab. But, to my good fortune, the TAs left this little ladder (you know those little three step ones) leaning against the sink. And in some stroke of genius I ventured up it...it lead to the sink...oh my gosh, the sink...the next logical step of course was to step into it...so I did. And there I was, standing inside the sink, gazing out into the window infront of me.
Then I saw it, bright yellow and flying through the sky. Was it what I thought it was...oh yes there it was. My eyes were fixed upon it, watching it soar across the air, be caught and launched up into the sky again...yes, there it was, a frisbee. Before I knew it I was outside, standing in the balcony. Only to look back in and see Heather staring at me like I just climbed out the lab window...which indeed, I did. She laughed in disbelief at what I had just done, but I know she would have done the same if only she had spotted the ladder first. But that was soon forgotten, and we concentrated the rest of our time at throwing pellets at our TA and trying to get him to think the ceiling was gonna collapse.

FREAK TEST.....
Have any of you ever taken the freak test? I'm not talking about any ol' one, but THE one. You know it separates the real freaks from the wannabes.
I guess you really gotta be some kinda freak or another to begin with, for spending the time to answer 500 questions on whether you're a freak or not. But one day a long time ago, between writing up lab reports and studying for some exam, I did just that...I know...WHAT A FREAK!

I remember scoring a decent freak-rating, which, I blame on the strange company I am always in...Let’s see Kathy admits to murdering a Muppet and skinning it for its fur. Kristina's sworn to marrying Weird Al and naming her first-born Ezekiel-Jebodiah (however on earth you would spell that), and had dreams of us all getting shot at graduation. Shaum's the center of the universe (I swear he really thinks that!!!), and Sapna, was just Sapna...enough said!
Oh yeah...the other day, we figured out that drinking Minute Maid directly out of the bottle will lead to the earth's surface spontaneously combusting and us all burning alive...don't ask...

I'm a freak...need I prove myself any more?

I know most of you think I've dropped off the face of the earth...not totally true, I was just in Chicago for a bit...here's a bit of what happened, I might add some more later...

Greyhound

~5pm
Cannot…feel…my…toes… What on earth possessed me to wear skin-tight gator skin high-heeled boots on the greyhound? Thank God, there’s blood flowing to my feet again. 6pm…two hours down, seven and a half more to go. Should’ve chosen to go to Toronto instead…Tony Tony Tony, why do you have to be so far away? Why does Chicago have to be so darn far away?


~6:15pm
GRRR…customs officers are EEEEVIL! Do they really need to search through every piece of underwear I own?!?


~8:40pm - Jackson Station
I look up, taking a rest from Bilbo Baggins’ adventures, and see her. She struggles to get on the bus, takes a deep breath, and tries to squeeze down the isle with all her luggage. She apologizes and smiles to people she whacks on the head with her guitar. She’s about seventeen, pretty, not beautiful or gorgeous, but your girl-next-door kind of pretty.
After a bit of a struggle, she manages to shove her bags and guitar into the overhead storage bins, and sits down behind me.
The man next to asks her where she’s going with that guitar of hers. Out of Jackson she says. She’s lived there all her life and desperately needs to leave. She tells him she’s a musician, she was in high school, but is now off to Chicago for a gig she heard about a month ago. He asks her if she’s been to Chicago before, she says no, nor does she know anyone there. “What next?” he asks. Florida, she knows a guy there, and they’re always looking for people to play in bands, supposedly it’s THE place to start. I can hear the excitement, the hope, and the innocence in her voice.
I want to turn around and shake her, knock some sense back into her. Tell her to stop being so naïve, to go back to school, back to her parents, to stop daydreaming. But wait, I can’t tell her that. Who am I to dampen her spirits, shatter her dream?
I take a deep breath, let out a long sigh, and pray that she’ll be ok. I turn off my reading lamp and close my eyes. I hear the conversation behind me trail off, and I slowly fall asleep. And the bus continues on its way to Chicago, to make or break this one girl’s dream.

~11:30pm
“ We are approaching the Chicago station, for those who are concluding their journey on Greyhound, please make sure to take all your belongings with you, for those continuing on to…”
Finally I’m here…ouch those lights hurt my eyes…now where’s my other boot…my luggage…thanks driver…AH TONY!!!…HUG...so nice to see him…didn’t realize I missed this silly boy as much as I do! This should be a fun week!


Hockey
Chicago’s not the best place to be watching hockey if you’re Canadian. They were all trash talking and laughing when the US scored the first goal…but…hahaha guess who was laughing when Canada scored their 4th…and then their 5th one…hehehehe… Hahaha We Won We Won!!!
They threatened to hang me up by my ankles at that point…and invade Canada…but hey, we still won!!!!
GO CANADA!!!!


Some of Tony’s friends I met:
There are some characters at UC that I suggest you check out if you ever get the chance to.

Dave:
Tony’s roommate…a pretty strange kid indeed. Huge Red Sox fan, and loves everything about Boston. Makes smacking sounds in his sleep. He is capable of saying the most randomly inappropriate things, with which he can stop any conversation.

Phil:
Possibly the funniest guy I will ever meet. I don’t even know where to start describing him. First impression you’d think he’s gay, but he’s not (when I met him he was with his girlfriend). He says some of the craziest things, and can’t play the guitar worth crap, but will do so and sing such that you will actually want to listen to him. And end up laughing so hard you bust a gut.

Andy:
An absolutely adorable guy! He’s a total hobo (I can say that, he admits it himself), and he’s got the whole package, flannel shirt and all…but he’s totally cool and extremely nice. He decides when they need a fire in the fireplace (can you believe it a fireplace in a college dorm?). And entertains everyone on his guitar (he actually does play) and sings Bob Dylan. Hm…and he also claims to have a taste for squirrel stew.