Night It Up! 2011: A night in photos
This was the first time that I'd been to a night market. I saw some really unique things...like a man dissecting pineapples with a power drill.
Once an Immigrant
In this article, I recount an incident where I was accused of job-theft and mistakenly identified as Chinese. Which isn't all that far off, because all Asians look the same. Am I right?
And suddenly: a poem. Wait, what?
It feels like time has somehow blown by, and now I'm sitting in front of my computer, 25 lbs. heavier with the ability to grow a passable beard and mustache.
Immigrant Coffee
“Next please,” the counter-lady sighs. I stand at the front of the queue, rubbing my face. “Next please,” she says again. The please is punctuated with an inflection that says, “hurry the hell up already.” I step forward, “Extra large, double double, with a double cup on that.” She frowns at the request for a...
Everything you never needed to know and never cared to ask
In this article, I tell you what books you should read, not because they're generally regarded as amazing works of fiction and non-fiction alike, and mark my words: they are, but because I like them and I think you'll like them too.
Insert name here
Most, if not all of us, have or know someone who has a Tito Boy and a Tita Baby. In this post, I ask a lot of questions that revolve around race and identity but don't answer any of them.
“I’ll work hard, then.”
So here I am 20 years later, sitting in front of a computer in my apartment in Toronto, thinking about how once, when I was 4-years old, my mom explained to me that we were poor.
Demons of our own creation
I remember this one time, shortly after I finished my undergrad, when I was reading The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie. The title was more than enough to raise the eyebrows of anyone who hadn’t bothered to read the book, but insisted on making their own snap judgment about its contents.
A trip to the Christmas Market
Ah, Christmas. That magical time of year where man, woman and child unite to remember the birth of Santa by buying as many things as possible. Or something like that.
Of Sheep, Sputniks and Dancing: things I learned from Murakami novels
On a blustery October night in Toronto, Reina and my pal Jon suggested that I read a novel by Haruki Murakami.
