Voila! It's my name in Chinese, as etched on a traditional Chinese seal my mother bought for me in (oddly enough) China. Speaking of my mother, I called her last night. She's home from Brisbane with my step-grandfather in tow, who is now ninety-three years old. Dad is in hospital again and will be undergoing surgery on Tuesday - he has been bleeding unstoppably, and the doctors don't know what else to do. Mum had an enormous fight with my father in Brisbane while she was up there. She broke down and started crying hysterically while relating that John allegedly stole an expensive and sentimentally valuable bottle of brandy from my grandfather while they were all having dinner together, upsetting everyone terribly. Dear God. She's also been fighting with the city council, who are threatening to tear down all the unapproved additions she's made to her house and forbid anyone from living in the unregistered basement apartment where I made my home for a year, and where a paying tenant is now residing.
My mother is frighteningly like Lars and James Hetfield in that she is equally unable to discuss other people, except insofar as they affect her. I tried to ask her about Mihali, but after only a very brief summary, she declared, "But that's beside the point!" and continued relating the tale of her own adventures. This happened several times throughout the conversation.
She seems to be thriving, though, and as long as she's happy, I'm happy for her.
- I discovered a few days ago that Chuck Taylor was bought out by Nike. Harrumph. However, Adbusters, the anti-corporate magazine with a radical following, have released a line of shoes in protest, called Black Spot sneakers. I think I'll enter this competition for the hell of it. I have my eyes on the Unswoosher.