If I were granted 3 wishes, my first wish would be to have infinite wishes. Is that legal? Or will a blue Will Smith banish me for genie-wishing misconduct?
Take 2: I wish I could time travel. Not to rewrite a math test or redo a conversation with a cute girl. (Ahhhhh. I couldn’t type that with a straight face.) Jokes aside, I’d love to rewind the clock and tighten that loose spike pin so I didn’t trip in a big race. Or berate my younger self for not resting enough so I could stay fresh for important competitions. …
It’s been a long, long time since I’ve lived at home. 2020, however, brought me back to the West Coast for longer than a Christmas break. My mom doesn’t work anymore, so I naturally spent the majority of time with her. But don’t be fooled by her unemployment. Her resume has gone triple-platinum: born-and-raised in Hong Kong, bilingual, lived in the UK and confuses chips and fries, moved to Canada for fun, drives stick shift, and raised my disobedient bum.
The past year gifted me with a front row seat to childhood lessons she recites like a song stuck on…
My varsity coach had the gift of the gab; he was “How to Win Friends and Influence People 2.0.” Upon starting my varsity track career, he unrolled the red carpet with a heartwarming phone call: “You need to get your shit together.”
I’ll never forget my very first park workout: 8x200 meters, walk back rest. The 200-meter finish line was marked by this big-ass tree. As the workout progressed, I swear the tree moved further and further away. After 6 reps, my legs and lungs made an under-the-table-agreement and betrayed me. The tree’s branches blew in the gusty headwind, mimicking…
In typical west coast fashion, the sunshine breaks what felt like the longest streak of rain. Thank goodness. I’ve been keeping my blinds closed to hide my pale complexion from Buffy.
Armed with a morning coffee in hand (Bumblebean Coffee only please) and SoCal weather, I’m feeling good. I trade in my daily basketball podcast for Ice Cube’s “It Was A Good Day.”
I totally jinx myself, as I open my casket (email) first thing in the morning. My bloodshot eyes are shocked by a kajillion invites: onboarding event #1, speaker #2, meeting #3, wait-why-am-invited-to-this #4, oh-look-an-actual-work-related-email #5.
Welcome to 1099 Western Road, my old university home, where we gave zero fucks. 6 roommates. 2 washrooms. When both were occupied and nature called, our kitchen sink…
We were somewhat civil (well… depends who you ask). However, we threw some classic childhood norms out our dilapidated windows. For example, the magic-word “please” was powerless. Instead, a different magic-word elicited an almost-immediate, jubilant response.
It’s exam season. Procrastination accrues a logjam of schoolwork, chaining us to our second-hand desks. Nonetheless, my continual dawdling and hunger prevails. I find myself sending a message to the house’s group chat: “Piero’s?”
“Hi, I’m Matt and I’m a workaholic.”
A monotonous, off-beat chorus of “Hi Matt” echoes.
“…I have also never seen one full episode of The Office.”
Someone shouts, “What the f*ck?!” Chaos erupts as foldable chairs and paper cups are hurled my way.
My mom has a funny story of me interviewing for kindergarten (I know — pure insanity). A teacher asked me, “Do you know the difference between yes and no?” I shook my head in confusion.
I’m a born-and-raised workaholic. From interviewing for kindergarten, striving for stellar grades, auditioning for high school, university, and job applications, my entire…
In loving memory of Kobe and Gigi, rest in paradise. #GB2KB24
August 24, 2020, Recruiting Season
I smile and shake his hand at eight-oh-something in the morning. It’s way too early for my groggy eyes to recognize the time, let alone be awake for a job interview.
My interviewer snaps open his laptop and begins clacking away on his keyboard. Without making eye contact, he asks, “So, why don’t you start off by telling me about yourself?”
Phew. Interview prep 101. I recite an answer as if I were articulately rapping my favourite Eminem song in the shower.
This piece was powered by the magnificent Mario Kart Wii soundtrack — in particular, Toad Factory and Coconut Mall. They go hard. 🚗
I love podcasts. Maybe much to my detriment, evident while I stumble over my steps as I make my weekly trip to the grocery store. My head is down, fervently trying to get my unresponsive iPhone 6 to start up my favourite podcast: The Old Man And The Three, hosted by JJ Redick and Tommy Alter. The hoop junkie (I prefer the euphemism “basketball fanatic”) and prideful Canadian within me was dying to continue their latest…
Thank you so much to Jess Iezzi for helping me put this together!
Before I get on with the show, I wanted to give a shoutout to those who have inspired me to begin this new creative journey. I do not know if my writing is any good, but here goes nothing.
First, shoutout to Kevin Viliunas, one of my long-time friends from high school, and his partner in crime, Fran Carroll. They began a blog (go check em out!) sharing, well heck, why bother explaining. Let me quote them directly:
“…Two grad students attempting to break down the communication…