day 10256: sold to the vicomte de chagny... thank you sir

Um, so, apparently, one of the fundraising ideas we're tossing around is a date auction. Not sure how comfortable I am to being auctioned off...

...gulp...

someone please bid on me... pretty please with an extra cherry on top...

day 10255: a world of difference

Things I was going to blog about:

~ my sister rocks… she gave me a rope for Christmas and disguised it as a kettle
~ if people (i.e. family) bug you about a certain boy enough times, you will start thinking about it against your own will
~ frustration, ice rinks, Ben Stiller movies and one too many drinks
~ bad, bad me
~ Triscuit knows about Crush (and thinks I should pursue it even though we’ve never seen Crush again since… and probably never will)
~ it’s all about confidence, or the perception of confidence
~ now I can play with the big boys (i.e. thumbs up to lead climbing)

What I’m actually going to blog about

It’s funny. What with Christmas, all the extra training for the lead course and all the chilling that I’ve been doing with friends and family recently, I’ve neglected to pay attention to the world around me. I’ve gone through my days (and nights) functioning as a human, but not as a person. I’ve watched the news on television, seen the footage of people and things being swept away, heard about the rising numbers of fatalities, but I forgot to feel. I did nothing about it. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Absolute nada.

I did what so many other people do… I changed the channel, so I wouldn’t have to think about it.

Tens of thousands of people died because a wall of water washed down upon them. The earth’s rotational axis has been thrown off and we’re all hurling through space one thousandth of a second faster. One event thousands of miles away on the other side of the world causing such incredible amounts of death and destruction and we don’t feel a thing - not a quake, not a tremor, not even the slightest smidgen that something so catastrophic has happened.

If it wasn’t for the news and for personal connections, how little we would know about the world around us. How little we would care. How little we would do to help our fellow beings… people we don’t know… strangers we’ve never even thought about… that we never knew existed.

But now I know and it’s hard to get things out of my mind. My eyes tear and my heart cries when I read the stories of people still searching for their loved ones. Things that seemed so important a few days ago now seem petty and insignificant. Who cares what people are doing for New Year’s. Who cares who the boy is actually interested in, or who Triscuit is seeing besides me.

All I can think of is what can I do to help. Is my $100-$500-$1,000-whatever-I-can-afford donation even worth it, or is it just a drop in the bucket when our government is offering $40 million? Can I do anything to make even the slightest hint of difference? I’d like to think that I would make a difference; that my contribution won’t be going towards paying some bigwig board of director salary, and that someone on the other side of the world will have access to adequate food, clothing, water, and shelter. Should I even bother?

Yes.

We all should, if we can. Too often, we stand back and take from the world around us, never thinking to care about it or give back to it… this is our chance to redeem ourselves.

Some friends of mine – Mini-me, Binny, Kapoopie, and my ever-giving cousin Bo, are organizing a fundraiser for the Asia Earthquake and Tsunamis Relief through the Red Cross. Details to be forthcoming as soon as they become available, but if you or your company can be talked into volunteering, donating or some other type of sponsorship, that would be much, much appreciated. Send me a message or post a comment. I will be checking periodically.

Thanks.

day 10247: words

"Do you ever miss me?" We sit in the hallway, leaning against each other, breathless and a little giddy from running down the hall. The sound of someone snoring seeps through the door. We giggle like kids with a secret, whispering to each other. It's very late. Both of us should be in bed; he in his room, I in mine.

"All the time. I miss hanging out with you. I miss being close to you. I miss curling up with you, and waking up with my arm all tingly because you slept on it all night."

"No, really?" He brushes my hair away from my face and nods.

"Really. I miss that all the time." He leans in a little closer and puts his head on my shoulder. Somehow I end up playing with his hair.

We talk like we've never talked before. No secrets, all honesty.

He tells me how he refuses to admit that he's in love. I tell him that all I really want is someone to go home to every night and share my day with. He tells me how he wants the same. We talk about how both of us are terrified to have children and how warped his kids will grow up to be, how I know him better than he knows himself and how I'm the nicest person he's ever going to know.

He agrees and looks sad for a moment and then he tells me how every time he thinks about a wife or the mother of his children, he thinks about me. I don't know what to say. The moment passes.

I tell him that I'll never stop caring about him, how it almost killed me when we stopped being friends, but how well I'm doing now without him. We talk about how much I've changed, how different I am from the girl I was just six short months ago and how I've finally realized that I am strong enough to deal with anything that life throws down before me.

We sit in the hallway and talk until the wee hours of the morning. Comfortably being together again, closer then we have been for months. We move into the room to the couch where it's warmer and fall asleep in each other's arms... talking.

day 10246: i meant well

I thought this was going to be the year. The year I finally get organized, get together my lists of people and send out those damned holiday cards. I got as far as buying the cards, stealing a pen from the office, and digging out some old stamps. And... I have a feeling that's as far as I'm going to get.

I've been carrying the cards around for a good week or so now. Not a single one has been written. Time crunch and I can't think of what to say. How do you tell people that you love them, miss them and wish they were here all the time? How do you write some to some people, but feel obliged to write some to other people... and what do you say in situations like those.

I've decided to forego the typical holly and ivy covered Christmas cards in favour of something that means a little more. Something with a little inspirational thought, and a message about living life as it should be lived.

But just in case I never send them out... here are the messages:

may you always have enough happiness to keep you sweet;
enough trials to keep you stong;
enough success to keep you eager;
enough faith to give you courage;
and enough determination to make each day a good day. ~ blessing

i beg you... to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and ty to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. don't search for the answers, which could not be given you now, because you would not be able to live them. and the point is, to live everything. live the questions now. perhaps then, someday far in the furuter, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer... ~ rainer maria rilke

dream your dreams with open eyes and make them come true ~ t. e. lawrence

it's not hte years in your life that count. it's the life in your years. ~ a. lincoln

day 10245: cheese turds

You never really do stop caring for someone, do you? Things change, people move in and out of your life. You can claim to hate someone, but do you really? Or do you hate the situation, but still care about the person?

And regardless of how ready you are to move on and how much you do want to move on, all it takes is a word or two, or a night of talking to make you realize that some things have yet to change, and things that you thought were long gone are just buried beneath the surface of denial, waiting for the god-knows-what to pop its head out and bring the past flooding back.

Not good.

Weekend away was good. Tremblant, as usual, was a great time. Ice climbing, fresh powder skiing, drunken nights of revelry and an unbroken winning streak at poker... what more could a girl possibly want.

Smoked Meat Poutine...
Fries, cheese curds, Montreal smoked meat, gravy... throw it all together and serve piping hot after a cold day on the slopes. Guaranteed one of the best things you'll ever eat in your life.

day 10242: holiday blues

I forget where I saw it. A teeny-weeny little ad …bah-humbug, no friends, no family, no plans over Christmas, anyone want to do anything over the holidays – I’ve got the blues. My heart melted. I wanted to respond and invite the person out to my holiday events, adopt them into my family and help make the blues go away.

Except that I forget where I saw it and what if that person turned out to be really strange, or a freak. Not that it really would matter, though. A crowded dance floor, some well timed excuses to go to the bar/bathroom etc… we’ve all given someone the slip before, or thought about it at least.

But it got me thinking about Christmas and what to do if I was in a city all by myself without friends or family or people that I love. There has to be more than just watching while everyone around me celebrates and coming home to curl up in front of the television with the dog. Even if you don’t believe in Christmas, the festive atmosphere would be rather depressing if there was no one to get festive with, no one to share presents with… no one to wish a Merry Christmas to...

day 10241: courtesy of between the covers

A) First, recommend to me:

1. a movie.
2. a book.
3. a musical artist, song, or album.

B) Ask me three questions. Ask me anything you want.

C) Go to your blog (if you have one), copy and paste this, and allow everyone to ask you anything.

day 10241: i take it back… all of it…

Can I take back yesterday’s rant? Please? It wasn’t justified. I just felt a little invaded by the bombardment of questions. I didn’t really mean it. Pretty please with a cherry on top? Thanks.

Plans changed last night. I didn’t end up going to the gym after all AND bailed on BMW and didn’t pick up his gear. *gasp, insert look of horror here* Instead, I made a spontaneous-not-at-all-thought-out-phone-call and ended up on a lark with JB wherein we met up with his brother and sister-in-law to go eat ramen noodles.

Imagine that… paying $10 for a bowl of instant noodles that you can get for $0.50 from the grocery store. And this was after dinner number one with girl-who-checks-my-schedule-with-MY-MOTHER. No worries though. I only had ice cream.

We ended up driving around my old neighbourhood, stopped by Maxim’s and had the-very-bestest-strawberry-meringue-in-the-world (boo… he was not suitably impressed with the meringue though) before driving back downtown via the smallest, crookedest, stop-sign-infested streets in the city. No joke. Small streets from uptown to downtown… what can I say? It was a fun night.

day 10240: obligations and justifications

Why? Why do I feel like she’s checking up on me, spying on me, trying to find out all the little details of my life - details that perhaps I don’t want to share with her?

Perhaps I am overreacting. I know I am, but I can’t help it. I feel like my privacy is being invaded.

There is no why, who, what, and where. Just accept my simple explanation. I can only have dinner until 8:00 and then I have errands to run and things to do. If I really cared to share the details with you, I probably would.

But I don’t want to.

And it’s not right to go and ask MY MOTHER if I went to her house to have my pants hemmed last Tuesday, or whether or not I really did have plans on Sunday or if I was just making an excuse not to go to the last-minute-going-away-potluck-dinner, etc. Because MY MOTHER doesn’t know everything, I did have plans, plans changed, I was sick, and if MY MOTHER was too tired for me to go to her house after dinner, then MY MOTHER was too tired… that does not mean I lied about my intentions, or my whereabouts. Not like you really have a right to know anyway.

We’re not best friends. I wouldn’t even call us good friends. We’re just friends. Friends with a little history, but nothing more in common than circumstances that threw our parents together, and a few common courses taken in University. I don’t even know your favourite colour. You don’t even know what kind of car I drive.

I’m exaggerating for sure. But this is a rant, so I have the right to exaggerate as much as I want.

Already, in the past two weeks, I’ve cancelled on my acting group, organized a dinner for a group of girls who didn’t really want to be there, thought about canceling my Sunday plans for the last-minute-going-away-potluck-dinner, and bailed on an old, GOOD friend who was going to get me tipsy on the city’s BEST sangria (I’m not too please about that, by the way, but he understands, thankfully).

I’ve got things to do, and people to see. It doesn’t matter what it is. You don’t even know who BMW is, why would you care where he lives or what I have to pick up from him.

And to involve MY MOTHER? That’s one step too far, baby.

Well, FYI… my schedule for tonight, if you need to know sooo badly:

5:45 – Ninki for dinner
7:30 – leave Ninki head home
8:00 – drive to the gym
10:30 – go home
10:45 – walk dog
11:00 – shower
11:30 - ?????

Argh. Do I need to schedule my pee times too?

day 10238 1/2: burn baby burn

As a result of last week's "IMPORTANT MANDATORY FIRE SAFETY MEETING," all of our space heaters were confiscated. Except my cube-farm-partner-in-crime, because she was smart enough to leave it on her desk where the confiscator didn't see it. That wouldn't be so bad if they ACTUALLY TURNED THE HEAT ON in the building. To make matters worse, I'm sicky (again) and losing body heat quickly.

My boss is on the phone with HR bitching them out about it. Alas, to no avail... Now how am I supposed to stay warm? Crack open a bottle of our inventory? Set fire to the financial statements?

I'm fading fast. must. go. home...

Wait. It's Monday. must. go. to. the. gym...

Just in case. :)

day 10238: why one should always listen to their parents when it comes to topics such as gambling addiction

I should have listened to my mother. Now I’m addicted. I’ve got the fever, and I want nothing more than to play, and play, and play. I thought it was just a fad. Who cared about what’s-his-name and what’s-her-name on the World-Whatever-Poker-Whatever? Who cared who won what, who got dealt what hand, what beats what, and who’s “all in”?

I. Do.

I’m addicted. I think I need to go to GA – Gamblers Anonymous.

I dreamt I was playing the other night. Images of hearts, clubs, diamonds and spades flashed through my mind. I’ve got a King of hearts, an Ace of hearts… can I do it? Can I make the Royal Flush? Ahhhh! The stress, the pressure…

It’s not like I haven’t played before. I’ve played a couple of games of Texas Hold ‘em. But, I’ve never played with *gasp* real poker chips before. I shudder with delight. The feel of the clay, the clink-thud as you throw your ante into the pile, the sheer delight as you see the stack growing before your very eyes. Stacking and restacking, learning to shuffle the chips, flipping chips with one hand…

Ahhh, the chips… it’s all about the chips…

Poker, poker, poker, poker… 11.5 g chips… *sigh*

I hope someone brings their chips to Tremblant this weekend. Nothing better than fresh powder and then hours of apres-ski poker. :)

day 10235: drowsy

Cold rainy Friday afternoon, trying to recover from a four hour “business” lunch and a bottle of red, I want nothing more than to go home, crawl in bed and sleep until I can sleep no more.

Alas, that is not to happen. There’s too much going on these days. No break for me until 2063 or there abouts.

day 10234: lelevator goin’ upppp…

8:26… I’m running late. I should be at work in four minutes and it’s not going to happen. I still have to take Dawg upstairs, grab the knapsack, take the elevator back down, walk the 20 minutes, stop off for coffee and then wait for the only working elevator in our building.

Oh look, someone’s just getting on the elevator. If Dawg and I run for it, we’ll just make it. Hold the door please?!

I run over, jam my arm into the door, and let Dawg in. Kid is standing inside bawling his eyes out. Dad looks at me, looks at Dawg. They’re going to the 26th floor. I’m going to 12th. Door closes. Kid continues to cry. Blubbery-snot-like… not a pretty sight.

“We’re going to mmmmm…” He stutters. Poor kid can’t even speak because he’s crying so hard. He rubs at his eyes with his gloved hands. Skeleton hands? Huh? Where’s the rest of the costume? “We’re going to mmmmm…. mmmm…. mmmmiss the boat…”

“You shouldn’t have left your knapsack upstairs then.” Dad speaks softly not placating his teary-eyed child, but not scolding either. A case of Dad knows there’s plenty of time, but he’s teaching Kid a lesson.

“We’re going to mmmmiss the boat…” More tears, more sniffling.

Ahhh, the guilt…I’m making it even harder on Kid by stopping on the 12th floor. If only I waited for the next elevator. I look at Dawg, Dawg looks at me and paws my leg. No, Dawg, wet nose kisses are not going to help today. Thanks anyway.

*Ding*

Elevator stops at my floor. We run out, the sound of wet sniffles muted by the closing doors.

I feel guilty as I drop Dawg off and gather up my stuff. I would hate to be Kid. But still, I can’t stop thinking that maybe I should blog about it… nah… poor kid missing his boat. I wonder if he goes to the Island School, or if it's a field trip. Eek... I'd hate to miss a field trip.

Go back to the elevator, press the button. Door slides open almost instantaneously.

I walk in. Dad and Kid… knapsack in hand.

*Ding*

Round two.

day 10233: straight as a broken arrow

You ever have one of those days where you keep tripping over your other foot? It's one of those days. I'm feeling somewhat dazed and confused.

day 10232: ode to ms. santa claus (aka my cousin bo)

Bo is Christmas. What I mean to say is that Bo, aka Ms. Santa Claus is the ultimate epitome of the phrase “'tis the season for giving.”

She anonymously adopts needy families at Christmas time and buys them clothes, toys, food certificates, anything to make the holidays a bit better for those less fortunate. She has been doing it for years. Sometimes she adopts one family; most times two. This year, she has three.

Three families – mostly single-parent-multiple-kids type, incomes stretched to a point where the holidays are an extravagance they cannot afford. And were it not for the sake of people like Bo, Christmas morning would be bleak. There would be no presents under the tree (if there even was a tree), Santa would not have taken a bite out of the cookie and Rudolph would not have left a present on the rooftop. Think Bob-Cratchit-coal-in-stocking-maybe-a-new-pair-of-underwear-instead-of-hand-me-downs type of Christmas morning.

So she goes to town, gets the works - clothes for all the children, toys for the younger ones, gifts for the older, something special for the parents, something pretty, something frilly, something cool, most things practical, but sometimes something frivolous that they otherwise would not have had.

Imagine the time and dedication, the giving and the caring. Even for a self-confirmed shopaholic, the enormity of the task at hand is daunting. It’s hard enough buying things for yourself, but when all you know are the children’s ages, m/f and their sizes, and not even their favourite colours, imagine the difficulty in picking out the perfect gifts or the perfect matching clothes sets.

So a few of us have chipped in to help out; Bo and Unsanitary Man went toy shopping yesterday. Today we raided “Old Blue” for family number three. Two girls, ages 7 and 12, sizes 7-8 and 14-16… new jeans, shirts, a sweater, turtlenecks, white fuzzy earmuffs, matching white fuzzy purses, and faux angora hat for each of them. My little pink wool kilt got nixed because it was too short…Ms. Santa Claus, you see, has a conscience.

Tomorrow night we will be wrapping presents while sipping mugs of spiced hot chocolate, scraps of tinsel and wrapping paper abound. Strains of Bing, Frankie and Nat will echo through the air along with the shouts of “three cheers for Bo…our very own Ms. Santa Claus.”

Merry Christmas, everyone. 'Tis the season for giving... if you can, go adopt your own family and spread a little Christmas cheer.

day 10231: five guys…one weekend

guy number one…bought me drinks

D: You rock!
J: Why? Cuz I can hold my liquor?
D: No, you rock cuz you’re a girl and you drink like a fish! Let’s dance… no… let’s do more shots first!

guy number two…proposed marriage first, then wanted to pay me for "services"

T: Say a guy gave you a carat.
J: A carrot? Why would anyone give me a vegetable?
T: No, a carat, as in from Tiffany’s. VS, D colour etc etc.
J: Why would anyone buy jewelry from Tiffany’s? It’s such a rip-off. Wholesale. Always buy jewelry wholesale…
T: OMG, will you marry me?
[a little later]
T: You should know how I feel about you.
J: [drunkenly] Hmmm?
T: What would it take?
J: I just met you. I don’t even know you.
T: Ok. Let me rephrase the question… How much would it take?

guy number three…puked all over my house and left the next morning without cleaning it up

J: Terry, clean up your mess before you leave!
Terry: I can’t I’m late to help BMW & GG move.
J: Dammit. CLEAN IT UP! I AM NOT CLEANING UP YOUR DRUNKEN MESS!
Terry: At least it’s not on the floor.
[door slams shut]
[ed. note: name has NOT been changed to protect the guilty]

guy number four…wore a dress to my company christmas party

J: Wow! I can’t believe you actually wore the kilt! You look amazing!
JB: It’s great! A little breezy and cold, but I’m really digging the frilly shirt. I might have to buy one just like it.
[a little later]
JB: How do you go to the bathroom with a skirt on?
J: Um. You lift up and…
JB: Squat? I meant at the urinal.
J: I wouldn’t know…
[a little later while talking to VP at monkeyco christmas party]
JB: Why is his so much bigger than mine? And why does he have three tassels and I only have two?

guy number five…triscuit - need i say more?

I’m so glad we’re friends again. In spite of all that has transpired and what was spoken, you were and always will be a very special part of my life. Love Triscuit.
[ed. note: love???? Had you said that six months ago, I would have been over the moon and around the corner. Oy. Now I'm just scared.]

Five guys... all in all, it was a rather good weekend.

day 10228: four guys in one weekend

A few Christmases ago, when all was good with the world and I was going through my foodie-gourmet phase, a friend brought back some exquisite fois gros from France. Melt-in-your-mouth, to-die-for, feeling-it-all-the-way-to-your-toes type of exquisite. I salivate at the memory.

Excited as I was at having tasted the succulent, creamy goodness of fois gros for the first time in my life, I happily announce to co-worker friends, “Guess what! I had fois gros this weekend!”

“What? You had four guys?”

“No! I had fois gros!” I humphed at the joker.

“You had four guys! Hey Sundar, J had four guys this weekend!”

By the end of the day, the partners had heard, the secretaries were twittering, and I was the laughing stock of the office. Four guys became the running joke at ex-monkeyco.

And though, I have yet to return since my teary departure seven months ago, apparently, absence does not make the jokes go away… I received this email today:

Enjoy your birthday! I want to hear something like "KC! I had 5 guys on the weekend!" next week. :)

Thanks guys, next rounds on you!

day 10227: the gossip according to luke (subtitled: why would anyone buy an engagement ring off ebay... sub-subtitled: my mom called my sister a player)

So the big family gossip right now is whether or not my cousin is engaged. I heard it from an aunt, who heard it from another cousin, who heard it from the supposed engager/engagee. Except that the aunt wasn't clear on whether or not the proposing had already been done or if it was just a proposed proposal...if that makes any sense to you at all. On top of all that, my-very-own-rock-expert-mother was consulted on the diamond purchasing and never let that little tidbit of knowledge slip out until last night.

Long story short, we don't know if the engagement is official. And we're rather miffed that HE WON'T TELL US HIMSELF! Hmph. *cross arms and pout*

Ok, so it really doesn't matter whether he is or is not. We're happy for him either way. But it's funny how the gossip flows around the family. It stops at certain people (i.e. maternal one who couldn't be bothered), but some of us (myself included on the rarest of occasions) are curious enough to perpetuate and poke around until answers are found.

Same day, same aunt... conversation with my mother...

Aunt: My daughter tells me that your daughter has a boyfriend.
{Mom looks at me. I shake my head vigorously... no-no-no-where-the-heck-would-she-hear-that-from}
Mom: Oh, Sista... I don't know.
A: Well, she heard it from a friend who heard it from Sista's friend... etc. etc.
M: I hadn't heard.
A: So I think she has a boyfriend.
M: I wouldn't worry about it. Until she calls me and tells me that she's married, then maybe I'll believe it. She likes them and then she doesn't like them. One day going out with them. Next day someone else. She knows a lot of boys.

day 10226: short and sweet

Has it been a year already since I last reminisced about turning a year older? Time flies regardless of whether or not you're having fun, n'est pas?

It has been fun. In a way. At least I'm not dead.

I guess I can't complain.

Last year, this day, I blogged about my 26th year. It was a good year - a very, very good year.

27? Not nearly as good. But still, there are some memories - some keepers, some I probably could have done without...

~ moped
~ groped
~ roped
~ sucked
~ fcuked
~ lucked
~ girlified
~ simplified
~ dandified

Here's to a better and brighter tomorrow. 28 is just around the corner. Hope the even years are better than the odds.