I had some alot of time to kill after signing up at my doctor's yesterday, so I walked up a few blocks to the Chinese bakery at Milliken. After I grab a few curry beef and red bean buns one of the ladies working there starts speaking to me in Cantonese... it got a little awkward, she looked embarassed and I tried not to laugh.

It's not as if this is the first time this kind of thing has happened (the number of times it happens during one Pacific Mall outing alone...), so I've pretty much conceded a long time ago this is never gonna stop. So my solution is... to learn some Cantonese. I know it's piss hard, but if I could learn numbers and some basic phrases they won't think I'm some Canadian born Chinese who never learned his native tongue(s) and cuss me when I turn my back.

+: I had more shit in the attic than I thought. Alot of good stuff, but the best?... plastic balloons! A whole lot of 'em, enough to render an elephant unconscious. Don't know what they are? Let Tomiko demonstrate.