BamBam has been everywhere lately, jumping between music broadcast shows, BamJip, as well as various YouTube channels to promote Sour & Sweet, his first full-length album. As an ahgase, I revel in the deluge of fresh content surging my way. But beyond squealing in excitement and laughing hysterically at his witty remarks, I've come to learn of the artist's impressive growth, as well as identify with a number of his struggles.

​His love for beer and the colour purple were new discoveries to me, as was his tremendous struggle to continue life as an idol, artist, and entertainer. Dissimilar to those who base their decisions firstly off emotions, BamBam's greatest struggle was not in regards to producing art synonymous with his inner world. Rather, it was failing to achieve the desired results despite the amount of effort invested. Another aspect to the equation was the importance of being authentic, yet still respectful and considerate.

​Some declarations seemed to be no-brainers to him:

• Facing problems head-on instead of escaping from reality to avoid stress
• Having confidence and being self-aware nixes the need to be jealous or wary of a significant other's social circle, or worse, projecting one's insecurities on another person
• The lack of value of learning something if it would unlikely pose a drastic change to one's life, and further entails no benefit nor loss
• The significance of taking care of oneself via the latte joys in life, even if the reward is as simple as a can of cold beer after a long day
• Embracing the joys associated with interactions of "my people" rather than new faces
• Accepting that not every situation can be changed, and learning to be alright with the discomfort
• Taking opportunities at one's most dire and taking a leap of faith in response to others' sincerity
• Trusting the results of one's own hard work, despite lacking trust in oneself as a person

​I identified with more than just a handful of his comments, especially those spoken in the realms of rationality. That said, I find greater moderation in Bam's thoughts and actions than in myself: Self-indulgence, while playing a relatively minor part in his daily routine, never goes untended. Maturity has developed from his extensive experience in the entertainment industry, from which has given way to a more sustainable mindset and more balanced regime. Observing him throughout this process has been a gift to me, both as an ahgase and a mere speck of matter in space.

​Pasta salad cravings have perdured since the previous week, with all hints for tri-colour fusilli mixed with peppers and olives dismissed - or temporarily forgotten - by the sleepy polar bear.

When readymade renditions could not be located at Loblaws, matters were, naturally, taken into my own hands. My request for dry pasta was met with a box of De Cecco fusilli instead of the standard Unico packages, much to my surprise. The premium-looking box and "Product of Italy" label raised eyebrows, for it shouted "Alert: Expensive!" from all angles.
In reality, the item was on clearance, thus cheaper than our typical budget pick, but superior in quality. Cooked in salted water to a consistency between al dente and soft HK Café spaghetti, the beautiful, swirled specimens retained their shape throughout the mixing and tossing process that would await them.

Mayonnaise - Miracle Whip, really - is the customary condiment choice in our household. Often is it blended with wasabi, ketchup, and/or Dijon mustard for varying takes on potato salad. For fusilli though, I looked towards an oil-based dressing, which is seldom my go-to. Olive oil, rice wine vinegar, coarse salt, and a sprinkle of sugar formed the base, while two cloves of black garlic were meticulously broken down by hand and smothered into the pasta's ridges. At first, the salad seemed lacking with just sweet bell peppers (an orange and red each) and half a deseeded cucumber; black olives were pivotal in my view. However, once the flavours had an opportunity to permeate, the result was phenomenal: harmonious, textured, yet light on the stomach, as a pasta salad ought be.​

Other meals/snacks of the week included: Peanut Butter on Toast, Loblaws Potato Salad, Chiang Mai Trail Mix from Basil Box, ​Minced Pork with Eggplant, Udon, Miso Soup with withering, week-old scallions, and Sirloin Oscar leftovers from The Keg.

No other work week feels as short as one before a trip, especially with a rush of month-end wrap-up tasks, unexpected spectacle complications, and unfavourable commuting conditions.

When my carpooling partner warned of an earlier departure time, I grimaced. Joint trips often commence early, but terminate far later than desired. To peel myself away from an area of respite even sooner than 6 AM did not align with personal productivity-promoting protocols. I resolved to undertake the grueling drive downtown by myself.

​Monday morning traffic was surprisingly light, but any prospect of arriving early (and leaving early) would be eradicated upon coming face to face with an unexpected TTC delay. Thankfully, the "broken train" issue spanned just a total of twelve minutes. I succeeded in making my arrival at 7:55 AM; the office, much to my relief, was relatively vacant with the exception of two large meetings, one in each boardroom.

​Originally, I had planned to visit the optometrist's office first thing. Delaying the trip to the following day eventually emerged as the better decision, for the lens of one pair popped out while in the office. The remainder of the day was spent working without the assistance of screen spectacles. But, in the very least, I'd be able to service all three pairs in one trip.

​Lunchtime proved surprisingly warm. My westbound trek was accompanied by a picturesque scene of slow-falling snowflakes. Though, "picturesque" may be a debatable term, for construction and precipitation often make for muddy ground conditions and splatters on pants.

On the bright side, many of the construction fences had been removed with the completion of cycle track paving and interlock work. This enabled smoother flow of foot traffic, in spite of snow piled about the curb.

At spotting "Mont Blanc" adorning the online menu of Isle of Coffee, I opted to venture out for a second visit. The cafe's madeleines had been disappointing overall, but the Fig and Caramel Scone had left its mark.

​Obtained in addition to the scone were a small Houjicha Latte and Mont Blanc. While the drink was being prepared, I treaded down a flight of narrow, rickety wooden stairs to the basement. Amidst the dim ambiance were a handful of tables, two incredibly focused ladies seated at those tables, working away on their laptops, and an old movie - complete with subtitles - being projected on an empty wall. Left of the stairwell was a door that read "Employees only", but beyond the limited seating was a second door - the washroom!
The single stall was fairly clean, equipped with a swing top garbage bin, one backup toilet paper roll under the sink, and a toilet with competent flushing capabilities.

Awaiting my return to ground level were my treats were perched on the counter, neatly placed in a brown paper bag. The Mont Blanc resided in a paper box at the bottom, while the Fig and Caramel Scone rested on top in a white paper bag.

The cashier-barista added the finishing touches on my Houjicha Latte and handed the cup to me with grace. The beverage was toasty and positively nutty: warm enough to unleash distinctly houjicha aromas, but not scalding to the point of tongue-incinerating (Looking at you, Starbucks).

I took a few sips of the latte before reaching over to the condiment station for an emerald green lid. Impeccably luscious and downright flavourful, Isle of Coffee had succeeded in satisfying the void that The Social Blend had failed to in their absence of houjicha.

​Unveiled later that evening was the Mont Blanc.

For at least one week, I had contemplated the possibility of swirling three flavours into Sunday Baking's Mochi Brownie. Success had been seen with both the original in a loaf pan and swirled with matcha in a standard square baking pan. I continue to experiment with my stash of Paragon tea powders, as eager to unlock new flavour profiles as to deplete them before expiry.

​Commencing with the mochi layer, I exercised caution to prevent scorching of the mochi mixture. Ever since replacing our microwave, I've noticed the need to reduce reheating times by at least 20%. This mochi was no expectation, for ten seconds on full wattage had rendered it lumpy and rigid. Water was gradually mixed into the dough in an attempt to reinstate its chewy qualities.
The result was acceptable, albeit thinner and retaining less structural integrity than desired.

​For any future mochi-crafting endeavours, it is recommended to grease the bowl beforehand. The spoon spatula pictured in Sunday's video was a great alternative to the flat scraper spatula, providing more control and kneading power.

​Next came formation of the batters. The original recipe called for two eggs. Despite having contemplated doubling the recipe and making two loaves (chocolate-matcha swirled and chocolate-oolong swirled), I ultimately opted to utilize three eggs instead of four. Adhering the roughly the same formula as my reduced sugar Oat Fudge Bar layer, I painstakingly prepared three batters.

This was a truly tedious process. While the original chocolate layer was a breeze to prepare, Matcha and Oolong required first melting white chocolate callets and butter together, then portioning them out as evenly as possible before whisking in the respective tea powders.
A total of four bowls piled in the sink, including the one for mochi. Then came the spoon spatula and three whisks. Instead of the "one-bowl, hand-mixed" format that SK often advertises, I had - accidentally, mind you - embarked on the path of more dishes.

Even with each layer comprising of only 46 g of granulated sugar, the result was still too sugary for my liking. I allude this finding to the existing sugar content in the white chocolate couverture, for I had not experienced this issue with semisweet Surfin.

The middle of the week saw Jinyoung's long awaited solo EP release. In the office, I could hardly reveal my excited demeanour, especially with a new member of staff seated directly before me the entire duration of the day.

"Cotton Candy", as well as the other four tracks on the album were played on loop that day - both in the office and the commute home.

​When lunchtime arrived, I decided to venture a bit further than normal.

Long ago did I request my 48-hour mid-week leave. Emails were monitored occasionally during this period, with Thursday evening revealing a 9:30 AM meeting for discussions that would likely bleed into lunchtime.

I slept fitfully the night prior, following a relatively early return from Junny's marvelous performance. An early awakening enabled construction of Marbled Banana Bread. 

For once, I had executed the recipe perfectly, inclusive of the confusing and particular flour-folding procedure! Immediate worries were extended to the repetitive mixing process, for gluten formation was the last element I would hope for.

​The loaf emerged delicious, sturdier than the six (or seven) banana edition with distinctive, cozy spices and irrefutable chocolatey-ness.

​Quarrels over banana consumption and storage delayed final inputs into a work writeup, therefore also impacting my scheduled departure. The sleepy polar bear was advised to acquire a Vietnamese Ice Coffee (V2) from Yum's Kitchen in the interim. At 2:20 PM, we made our way downtown, energized by the potency of the drink.

The last trip to the ROM, beyond school field trips, had been undertaken in 2016 while maximizing a student discount.

Having verified the museum's operating hours in advance, we made a quick round through the gift shop first, as it would be the first attraction, if I may denote it as such, to shutter at 4 PM.

My two-year concert hiatus has finally terminated, graced with the present of a very special Korean-Canadian solo artist.

Over the years, I've observed my affection to reside less with idols and their overdone concepts and broken melodies. Instead, I've turned to calmer tracks, placing emphasis on sound, delivery, and lyric over merely performance. Moreover, the idols that I fell in love with - and still love to this day - have respectively evolved into musicians and artists in their own right, taking an active approach to the creative process.

I first discovered Junny through ØFFSHORE, a production crew that Jay B has pursued for musical interests outside of GOT7. His soothing yet stunning vocals captivated me almost instantaneously, and I began to follow his releases bit by bit, growing progressively fond of the tracks. His earlier albums are less familiar to me, for the nostalgia EP was the deciding duo for me. (Beyond the title track, my favourite is actually solo with Lullaboy.)

Slipping into comfy attire (complete with hi-vis jacket for visibility!) and not-so-comfy platforms in preparation for the GA crowd, I proceeded to assemble my standard roster of concert items. At quarter past one, I would begin navigating to Clarkson station; the GO Train whisked me to Union in just under forty minutes.

The venture marked my first solo trip since June. Within this period, several updates had been made to Union Station:

• Sephora and LCBO (as well as a dental clinic and cannabis store) had opened its doors in the Bay Concourse
• Matcha Lattes were re-introduced to the York Concourse McDonald's
• Decathlon's highly-anticipated concept store had opened for retail matters, Click & Collect services for online orders, and bike tune-up services

Exiting on street level, I found blue skies, off-duty labourers, and homelessness awaiting me.

Trodding up the concrete stairs, I proceeded northbound to King and Bay, where I would board the King streetcar towards the venue.
But, of course, the 504 was a short turn that concluded at Church Street. Alighting the next one while catching upon Woo Young Woo led me to missing my stop, then trekking back to Queen from Dundas and Broadview.​

At 3:42 PM, I joined the lineup at 10th place. Shortly afterwards, a fellow ahgase spotted from her fifth place position and approached me to catch up on recent happenings. ​We griped about career and financial difficulties - topics that the barely-legal Gen Z species surrounding us could hardly identify with.

During this procedure, I also unveiled a delightful assemblage of artwork from orderlyblue.

​Beyond being a friend of mine since the Before We Begin Vancouver stop, she is a flourishing artist, teacher, and entrepreneur in her own right. To declare my pride in her is an understatement; she is young but intrepid, and contemplative but resolute.

Prior to the Lynn Canyon trip, I had expressed interest in supporting her craft, to which she responded enthusiastically.
Her stunning creations, meticulously sealed in individual sleeves and bubble-wrapped for extra protection, were finally revealed upon reaching home. Delicate, precise linework, harmonious colours, impressive innovation, and astounding attention to detail were witnessed in each and every piece. 

​I was also in awe at the souvenirs that she had obtained for me from her recent trip to Hawaii. The first was an adorable fridge magnet, in which the magnet was embedded inside of the wooden design itself, rather than affixed to the outside with oozing adhesive. The second was a lucky cat pin slurping ramen, and on the bowl showed the islands of Hawaii.

​Amongst the largest voids emerging throughout the trip were: a distinct lack of Larry and the convenience of a personal vehicle, for door-to-door trips that could take whenever my heart desired.

I proceeded to satisfy the first of these longings immediately after being relieved of the aircraft grime. Larry, along with both sizes of Sulleys, had undergone deep cleansing rituals in my absence. Radiating from them were fragrant clouds of cleanliness, along with noticeable boosts in fluffiness.

News of the heavenly heptet's return as seven had already been a blessing for us all. For them to expand beyond digital releases and attend group schedules was another degree of elation altogether, whether we be observing the process in person or not.

At long last, my fingers would glide over a physical album, over lyrics that each member had thoughtfully assembled with the sole intention of "repaying" ahgases. Truthfully, our patience needed no compensation, for once an ahgase is always an ahgase.
​GOT7 is home, after all.

​Extended periods of time off alleviates the pressures sustained from boundaries mandating the completion of certain tasks. For once, I need not plan so thoroughly. I need not allocate specific days for specific appointments. I need not concern myself over the consequences of schedule delays or underestimated time-to-complete.

​Lunch comprised of a soft-boiled egg and kimchi fried rice from DooBoo, while cookies (with rugged knife depressions) served as a light mid-day snack.

​For dinner came asparagus spears from T&T and Baked Fried Rice with Seafood and Pork Chop leftovers from Cattle Café.

"A concert!!!...AT 3AM?!?!"
Following a brief moment of dismay towards the announcement of a domestic in-person concert came the realization of a livestream opportunity for global fans. Ahgases have waited patiently for the members to regroup again, and the comeback announcement had brought nothing short of delirious excitement.

The term "homecoming" was especially fitting, for it implied a grand return: GOT7's return to a scene where they rightfully belonged. Whether it be performing on stage in front of screaming ahgases or broadcast channels via YouTube content, they would, after this long, grueling period, be seen together - seven as one unit - once more.

For the boys, "HOMECOMING" meant a lot more. Their home was the warm embrace of ahgases, a place where their work was appreciated, efforts were supported, and love was given, unconditionally. Despite being renowned worldwide, they remain the humblest of artists: While BamBam worried over whether the fandom would remain after their group hiatus, Jinyoung claimed himself to be a "nobody" who could only shine as much as ahgases allowed him to. These comments summoned an aching heart - Do they not know how awesome they are?! Of course we'd stay!

True ahgases will remain for certain and, what's more, support the members' individual pursuits to foster a stronger sense of awareness in the global music market.

A self-proclaimed regular observer of Twitter happenings and collector of data, BamBam was quick to ask the crowd of their ahgase seniority status. Majority had participated in their last world tour of 2019 - myself included - with a handful seeing the group in person for the first time. Interestingly, he also noted the possibility of those joining the fandom after JYPE era. He noted that a number of articles had circulated upon news of GOT7 going separate ways from their parent company, and that he wouldn't eliminate the possibility of those articles stirring up interest in the group and their past endeavours.

​I had purchased my ticket a few days after the release date, reassuring myself that my Saturday plans would not interfere with the decision. In reality, I was terrified.

Entry into the working world has solidified the importance of events that never truly garnered much interest in my teen and young adult years.
Politics matter, whether you believe true democracy will prevail or not. Familiarizing oneself with the various parties may be a hassle, but these respective platforms, supplemented by general public opinion, are deciding factors in the government's future investment(s) and job availability. Every instance of tax relinquishment reflects our investment back into the system, so thorough contemplation of these matters isn't entirely optional, as much as the act of voting is made out to seem.

​Spendings have been striking this quarter, spanning utility bills, vehicle maintenance, small appliance replacement, and special occasion dining ventures. Adding to the financial burden is a pending vacation (at long last!!) and GOT7's comeback. VICTON and ASTRO are also releasing EPs within this month, though their impact is negligible in comparison to OT7.
It is with much dismay to note that my quarterly review is delayed. The corporate class is frustrating, with an insatiable appetite for prosperity and ascent on the social ladder; what is more: these circumstances are consistent across majority of companies, with the same woes being expressed by those simply looking to survive, and maybe strive towards their career goals.

The week commences with Dalgona Lattes, one with espresso and one with a concentrated dose of genmaicha. Sickeningly sweet are the shards when incorporated in generous handfuls. In small doses though, they are quite enjoyable, contributing a caramely robustness to the iced beverages. ​Granola with vanilla Greek yogurt subs in for blue sky bran muffins on a few breakfasts.

​In the absence of a functioning microwave, creativity continues to be employed for the delivery of weekday meals in a timely manner. Sourced from the freezer are frozen vegetables and a mini pizza, which is elevated with additional cheese cubes and a few strips of Arirang takeout bossam.

Creations of the week included:

1) Marbled Banana Bread Feat. Mini Marbled Loaves

​As with the most stubborn of adrenaline junkies, I find myself constantly testing the physical limitations of time in order to achieve more. For workplace duties, I am often provided more tasks than physically capable (and reasonably reimbursed for), thus strive to automate processes in order to earn back some breathing space. The plan backfires again and again, for upper management cares not of the wellbeing of their junior employees, but the milestones attained at a corporate level. Greed and pride are the dark drivers of ambition, leading countless to exploit both living and inanimate resources to rise along the social and economic ladder.
​
There is little to be negotiated in the corporate environment, for endurance is a matter of survival of the fittest, supplemented by underhanded compliments to establish shallow working relationships. In what remains of my personal time, I make steadfast attempts to portion it out with the aim of achieving the most. The habit, while rational in its conception, is dangerous over extended periods of time. It involves pushing oneself to the brink of death, and quite possibly into a somber territory of lifelessness before retreating a few steps, then doing it all over again. Burnout lies at the end of this all-too-familiar path to exhaustion. Yet, despite knowing the consequences, I unconsciously default to it anyway. And now, my calendar is filled till mid-summer.

​Having earned a throbbing headache and burning eyeballs at the end of each work day, I began to push away those seeking sympathy. It was never my strong suit to start, but a further reduction in sanity hours only worsened my reactions.
Schedule regulation was an act I had kept at the back of my mind, occasionally dabbling in it as needed. My routine had stayed relatively consistent over the past few years, especially given the dreadful, health-wrecking work-from-home situation, but the introduction of new priorities (needs?) demand a change. Frequently do I preach the importance of taking matters into one's own hands to yield the preferred result; I shall not be the hypocrite this time, nor any other time.

The week starts with unofficial meetings: Teams call after Teams call to address various issues. A mid-day boost is crafted from Paragon's Oolong tea powder and a few drops of ube extract mixed with sweetened condensed milk. The result was a two-toned Oolong Ube Latte with stronger notes of smokiness than sweet purple yam.

​Meals of the week comprise of takeout from Magic BBQ, Pork with Onions in Tomato Sauce over Rice, Baked Salmon and Choy Sum, and mini frozen pizzas for convenience.

​Constructed in the latter half of the week was a Coffee Castella with Chantilly Cream.

​Desires for a fluffy cake matched with airy whipped cream sent me in the direction of Sunday Baking's Taiwanese Castella recipe. Its texture was advertised similar to sponge, though the procedure was more forgiving. The low-and-slow baking process entailed minimal effort from my part and, furthermore, enabled dashes to the computer and unexpected requests. Swapping oil for melted butter and incorporating several tablespoons of Nescafe Gold into the batter at the egg yolk stage, the cake resulted a little denser than I would have liked. Nonetheless, it was delicious. Although a bit firm at first touch, the texture had not been comprised: air pockets were largely uniform in size and the cake emitted a light bounce when subject to pressure.