Monday, December 11

day ?????: from golfito, costa rica


I think it´s Monday. No idea except that the turtle portion of our trip is over. We´re still alive, and I loathe to return to civilization.

More later, it´s someone else´s turn to use this computer... connection is slowwwwww...

I´d say that I wish you were here, but that´s way too cliche. Besides, I´d just be rubbing it in that you´re not. ;)

Hasta luego

Sunday, December 3

day 10955: thank you, come again

What do you say to the guy at your office Christmas party who says, "Can I tell you something without crossing the line? You have a little piece of chocolate on your lip that I just want to lick off." Dude, how is that not crossing the line?

I'm off to Costa Rica for the next two weeks to save the sea turtles. Can't think of a better way to spend my 30th birthday than that.

Hasta luego, amigos. Be back in a few.

Thursday, November 30

day 10952: downtown girl living in an uptown world

Perhaps the one and only thing that makes me smile these mornings is waking up to the sound of the maternal one yelling "Go poo-poo... Go poo-poo... Go poo-poo..." at the dog because she doesn't want to go outside in the rain.

I kid. I kid.

I'm also smiling because Costa Rica is just around the horizon, and I can't wait to be spending some quality time with the sea turtles.

Ah, but it's good to be near grass again.

Wednesday, November 29

day 10951: lost in transition

My memory is spatial which means that I know where things are relative to the space around them.

Which means that ever since I cut my hair, I seem to have lost my mind.

Monday, November 27

day 10949: girl meets boy, girl likes boy… the ongoing saga continues

The hard thing about having a crush and moving forward from having a crush is that you open yourself up to rejection. It becomes a whole new game as you flirt back and forth wondering who is the braver of the two to actually say the words.

Of course, being 330 miles away doesn’t really help either, but acting like we're still in grade 9 sure does...

Sunday, November 26

day 10948: blessed

If one were to measure wealth in terms of friendship, I would rank right up there with the Bill Gates of the world. My friends are amazing and wonderful beyond words, going to the extreme to make this a birthday to remember.

This week, I’ve been wined, dined, kidnapped, and surprised more than ever before. It started with an AYCE sushi extravaganza, ended with a private magic show and somewhere in between I was stuffed into a car, driven to Niagara and put ontop a mechanical bull. It’s been fantastic.

Thank you for making this one of the best birthday weeks of my life. I am truly blessed by having the best friends in the world.

(Details and pictures to come... as soon as they send them to me.)

Saturday, November 25

day 10947: I *heart* my grandmother

My grandmother worries about me. She worries that I work too hard, and worries that I’m not getting out enough. She worries that I’m not meeting any new people, and that I’m slowly become a spinster because no man wants an aging asian girl who’s got bigger biceps than he.

Of course this being the weekend before I turn 30 (*egad*) and me being her only single grandchild over the age of 18 (quite possibly her ONLY single grandchild actually), her poor heart has been in palpitations over the uncertainty of my future. She really, REALLY wants a man in my life to take care of me and can’t accept my arguments that I’ve done a rather fine job (if I do say so myself) of taking care of myself. As usual, she not so subtly prys into the state of my singleton status.

[ed note: Every time we’re together and out of protective earshot of the maternal one, she brings up the subject of men and how to find one. Let me tell you, she really digs the whole set-up process and still really digs the one that she “found” a few months earlier (i.e. my cousin’s friend who is a good few years younger than I, who I have met before, and suspect to this day that my cousin already tried to set us up without me knowing). And contrary as I am, I have a slight aversion to the whole setup process, especially if my family is involved… no offense (thank you for trying), but I like to do things my own way, and in my own time.]

I’ve come to expect her questions, and usually temper my answers with as much humour as I can muster in my miserable Cantonese. I tell her that I’m working too hard to date anyone, that I’m not into asian boys, that I’m trying to find myself, and occasionally ask if it would it be okay if I didn’t end up married like everyone else in the family because I’m thinking of becoming a nun and joining a monastery (whoops… nunnery) even though I’m agnostic and nonreligious. I tell her that I’m thinking of moving to a beach somewhere and giving into the whole free-love movement (albeit belated) and just living with a couple of men and my dog for the rest of my life.

Either my Cantonese really sucks or she ignores me, but she continues telling me how worried she is about me, and how she goes to church to pray for me and my future husband… and that my future husband will find me soon.

So this time I did the unthinkable. I gave her hope.

I told her about boy-who-will-not-yet-be-named and the giant crush that I have on said boy-who-will-not-yet-be-named. I answered her twenty questions on who, what, when, where, how, asian/not-asian, professional/not-professional, mutual/not-mutual, blah blah blah…

She thinks I should aggressively pursue (aka borderline stalk) this one. He sounds that good (on paper). She asked for his name so that she can start praying for him too. I've saved myself for the time being, but the poor boy, what have I gotten him into?

Thank goodness, she hasn't been exposed to the powers of the Internet...

Friday, November 24

day 10946: time to pull up my fuzzy red socks, and take it in the ass like a man

Stress is character building. Bring it on. Bring it on.

I need a drink. And a cookie.

Wednesday, November 22

day 10944: ya know that feeling...

...the can't eat, can't sleep, hit a homerun out of the park kinda feeling... I've got it.

I'm crushing, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. (It's fun!)

Now someone help me wipe this stupid grin off my face. People are starting to notice.

Tuesday, November 21

day 10943: oblivious

Around 6 this evening, my coworker asked if I had heard a strange noise. I had my earphones on and my music playing and hadn't heard anything unusual. There's always construction noise and street noise around.

We brushed it aside and continued wrapping things up for the night.

Fifteen minutes later as we headed out for dinner, we stopped at a traffic light to let two bicycle cops ride by. We made a comment about how they get so little respect, and continued on our way.

I just found out that there had been a shooting. As many as ten shots fired, only half a block from my office.

Sunday, November 19

day 10941: trying to get in touch with my inner child

I baked cupcakes for the monkeyco children's Christmas party. I got a little ahead of myself and baked some chocolate shiraz ones for the adults.

Note to self... never bake anything with alcohol for a children's Christmas party. When you're busy facepainting the little rugrats, the VP HR's kids will go and grab the wrong cupcake.

Wednesday, November 15

day 10937: ugly

I got into a shouting match with a guy on the street yesterday. I probably shouldn't have given him the time of day, but I was already in a shitty mood, and he called me ugly and insulted my intelligence.

Oh, and I was slightly tipsy, and pissed that I screwed up something at work that morning.

Monday, November 13

day 10935: kaboom

Take a good look at the picture. The burgundy blobs are streetcars, the blue blog is a pickup truck, the white blob with the red line is a police car (with the lights flashing) and the other white blob is a cargo van.

Here are the facts. It was a bright and sunny morning, and I was rushing to get to work on time. The drive downtown was surprisingly fast, but only because all the lazy ass government workers and the bank employees get the day off. I’m only slightly bitter because I was supposed to have the day off as well, but damn monkeyco…

Sorry, I’ll stick to the facts.

The lights at intersection X and Y were out. All the cars were treating it like a four way stop. The streetcar going East was stopped, the one coming West wasn’t quite at the intersection yet, but had started to slow down. Me. I was jaywalking as usual – see me in the NE corner? I’d wave, but I’m rushing to get to work on time.

Four way stop. Blue pickup truck started to go. I started walking across. I was looking at the police car (with the lights flashing) and wondering why the guy sitting in the front of the car isn’t directing traffic. It’s not an overly heavy intersection, but there are a lot of crazies out there. And they all wear hospital gowns with the back flapping open…

Sorry, I’ll stick to the facts.

Blue pickup truck (actually it was black, but it wouldn’t have shown up as well in my picture) was going through the intersection. (At this point, I was halfway across the street.) When all of a sudden, KABOOM!! White cargo van didn’t realize that the lights at intersection X and Y were out, and decides to drive right through… and right into Blue/Black pickup truck.

[I’ll insert note here that everyone seemed to be ok because they were able to get out of the car and yell at each other.]

[I’ll also note here that real car accidents are never as KABOOOMISH as the movies make them out to be. It’s more of a CRUNCH really, than a KABOOM.]

It took a few moments, I think, for people on the street to get over the surprise. The police car (still with lights flashing) drove up to the *scene* of the accident (i.e. all 20 ft) and parked his car halfway in front of the streetcar and halfway in the lane of the westbound going traffic… i.e. in the middle of the other streetcar’s tracks. So, not only did he block the eastbound streetcar, he also blocked the westbound streetcar. On Queen Street - in the middle of rush hour. Way to go, Joe. Gold star for you.

So here’s what I’m wondering (and have been all day):

1) Why wasn’t the policeman directing traffic?
2) Why was he just sitting in the car?
3) Why did he have to block BOTH streetcar tracks?
4) If I had actually voted in the municipal elections today instead of blogging this, could we have had a more competent police force?

Sadly, the only one of my questions that I can answer is #4.

Sunday, November 12

day 10934: why?

Tell me again, why. Why did I give up a life I loved? Why did I give up living in a place I loved? For what did I give up myself, my soul, my own sense of being?

Sure, I was still lost most of the time; bumbling around a life I was unsure of and not quite so happy with. But at least I had a choice, and at least I felt like I was free. At least I was happy with where I was living.

And now, almost thirty, back living at home with “mom” after being on my own for almost eleven years, laughing at myself with the others that tease me, but crying myself to sleep at night. It’s been almost two months and, no, I’m still not used to it. It is killing me, slowly, everyday that I am here.

I’ve tried to be positive. I’ve tried to embrace the whole new lifestyle load of crap. I’ve tried taking the subway, and commuting with hundreds of other faceless, emotionless clones who run because they want to catch the freaking train. I’m not like that. I’m not one of them.

The party line is that I’m trying to save up money to buy my own place. Bullshit.

I’m here because her tenant moved out, and she made a fuss about selling the house because she’d be living here alone. Yes, I gave in to the guilt. I am asian, afterall. I was born with guilt. There is a timeline of a year, but I honestly don’t think I’ll last that long. Another two months at most. It’s already a day to day struggle.

Fuck anyone who tells me to suck it up and just do it because I’m “saving money.” I’m not saving any money by living here. After rent and incidentals, I’m saving $60 a month. That’s all. Sixty fucking dollars that I have to spend taking a cab home on a Saturday night because I no longer live 15 minutes away from anywhere I want to be.

Fuck anyone who tells me to grow up, suck it up and just tough it out for the year. You have no idea what it's like, and you have no idea what I've given up. Because, fuck you, you're not here.

Thursday, November 9

day 10931: perspective

I hate agressive downtown cabdrivers that make me incredibly paranoid when I'm on my bike.

I am incredibly thankful for agressive downtown cabdrivers when I'm trying to make it home from work by midnight.

Tuesday, November 7

day 10930: november something or rather

I missed all the Davinci Code hype this past year. I read the book a year and a half too early, and by the time the movie came around, I didn't feel like paying to see the movie.

I think I'll rent the dvd when it comes out.

Monday, November 6

day 10929: signs

If you pay attention, you find that life has patterns. A year ago, it was all about coincidences and perfect timing. A week ago, it was about food and gluttony. Today, it's about Jordan, Ontario, a place I didn't know existed until yesterday.

None of the patterns were particularly important, but it begs the question... if I pay attention, what is the world trying to tell me?

Sunday, November 5

day 10928: nightmares

Three nights ago, my work was in shambles and I couldn't figure out how to balance my financial statements and my leadsheets. I quit my job and went to a university in the middle of nowhere bordered by a lake and a lot of flat land covered in golden wheat. There was a small town nearby with a red 1800's style house, and I kept having to drive to and from it dropping people off.

Two nights ago, my life was in shambles and my boss yelled at me for something that wasn't really my fault, but really was at the same time. I think I cried. I went on vacation to a seaside resort where Italian men held impromptu horse races on the beach. A Mexican restaurant was upstairs from the condo I was staying in and the clouds billowed like crazy. Then my boss called to yell at me some more, so I pulled on a pair of rubber boots and went wading in the water. The sky was blue and one of my teeth fell out (I dream a lot about my teeth falling out).

One night ago, my mom had cancer, she adopted a family of cats (two of which turned on and ate half of another one - blood and gore everywhere), then adopted 5 more cats. We ran for our lives and watched as a group of ninjas macheted POWs, but we saved ourselves by dressing as Red Cross workers and hiding amongst a group of nuns. We then moved to a pretty cool loft made for a really tall person, so that I had to hike myself up onto the counter just to reach the sink. There was a giant fishtank with a girl swimming in it all the time.

The vividness of my dreams led me to realize:

1. No more oysters before bed
2. No more heavy meals and lots of sugar before bed
3. No more falling asleep with the television on
4. Work is killing me and I can never get away from it
5. Toronto has no good Mexican food
6. I'm allergic to cats even in my dreams
7. I keep dreaming about that university, but I've never been there
8. I'm always the designated driver
9. I really like living on the water
10. I need to get out more
11. I dream in Technicolour

Friday, November 3

day 10926: 3030303030303030303030303030303030

I wonder sometimes if I stay because I am lost. Things have changed, what once was is now no more. One foot in front of the other, living life a breath at a time, not thinking, not reacting, just existing.

Merely existing, and not living.

Wasting space, wasting time, wasting a life that someone else would be envious of, and yet, I make no move to change.

Thirty days until I turn thirty.

Thursday, November 2

day 10925: i pray to all that is holy that i was never like this...

auditor: So can you explain why your cash has gone up?
schmassion: No. Just look at the cash flow statement. That's why it's there.
auditor: Um. Can you explain it to me?
schmassion: I've already summarized everything for you. There's nothing else that happened that isn't already on there.
auditor: Um. Can you just walk me through it?
schmassion: Basically, you want me to read it to you?
auditor: Um. Yeah.


auditor jr: That's not my job.
auditor sr: Yes it is.

Tuesday, October 31

day 10923: happy halloween from teh lush...

"I'm not a lush... oh wait... yesh I am."

I love Halloween. Ever since the first time I dressed up in a Chinese meen lap with a set of Mickey Mouse ears plopped on my head and two spots of lipstick drawn onto my cheeks, Halloween has been magical.

I love the excitement, anticipation and even the little bags of Humpty Dumpty gas-flavoured potatoe chips they handed out when I was in grade two. I love all of it. Even the little rocket candies that I hate so much.

My kids are going to love Halloween as well. And they're going to have wicked costumes... not clown outfits that they wear year after year just to score free candy (although that was really cool the first time around).

Things that I've been:

... Chinese Mickey Mouse...
... farm hick with a Big Bird sweatshirt...
... clown... I wanted to be a princess...
... Superman...
... clown... i wanted to be a ghost...
... clown... I wanted to be a princess... again...
... clown... I wanted to be a vampire...
... cowboy...
... Charlie Chaplin, but my moustache fell off so I was just a man...
... Wednesday Adams...
... Go-Go Yubari...
... Winnie-the-Pooh...
... pylon from Toy Story...

Monday, October 30

day 10923: my dog's ears smell like McDonald's cheeseburgers

I've been spending so much time away from home recently, my dog no longer recognizes me.

Sunday, October 29

day 10922: gong show of a fcuked up weekend

1. You go to the grocery store, and come home with a fur coat.
2. What was supposed to take three hours ends up taking two days.
3. You don't have your cellphone, keys, passcard, or your toothbrush.
4. White trash drunk girl at a club calls you a bitch, pulls your hair and deliberately spills her drink on you because you went to talk to your friend that she was trying to hit on.
5. You fall asleep in the middle of someone's living room floor.
6. You wake up hungover and have to go to work.
7. Driving home from work at midnight on a Sunday night, and all you can think about is how easy it would be to drive into a lamppost so that you don't have to go to work tomorrow.
8. You have 5 hours before you have to wake up and do it all over again.

Thursday, October 26

day 10919: what are friends for?

What are the odds that you have 50+ people over for a belated Turkey Day potluck, and you give your guests the option of bringing drinks, a side dish, appetizers or a date for the hostess, and NO ONE brings a date for the hostess?

Wednesday, October 25

day 10918: finally.... introducing.... the office pets!


They're tiny, but they're alive. Ever since I started reading comic books, I've always wanted some. Hours, and hours of endless fun.

Or so they say.

(ps. Those little white dots in the picture, those aren't it. They're still too small to take a picture of. Maybe next week.)

Tuesday, October 24

day 10917: the suspense is killing ya, ain't it

Sorry folks, forgot my camera today.

Going drinking with the monkeyco. Hasta luego.

Monday, October 23

day 10916: too much of a good thing

Give me an inch, and I’ll take the whole lane. Introduce me to Photoshop, and I’ll make all my pictures look overexposed.

Damn… I really need to learn how to use that thing. I’ve taken some otherwise perfectly good pictures, and made them hideous.

Tomorrow, if I remember to bring my camera to work, I’ll be introducing the newest members of the Schmassion family!

Yay… aren’t you excited?!!

Sunday, October 22

day 10915: post i had to backdate because i didn't want to hurt the fish's feelings

Introducing... *drum roll*...

SAKE BOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I got the googly-eyed-bubble-boy months ago (i.e. March), but I forgot to post his picture. And, as we all know, if I didn't post his picture before I post the picture of the newest addition(s) to the Schmassion family, his feelings will get hurt.

We really don't want THAT to happen.

(ps... I know the picture is blurry. Do you know how FREAKING HARD it is to take a good shot of a camera shy fish?!)

Saturday, October 21

day 10914: you don't bring me flowers, anymore

It occurred to me that I've never had a guy bring me flowers. Bacon always talked about giving flowers to a girl for no reason, but I guess he always found reasons not to give me flowers. Triscuit sent flowers to my office one V-day, and brought me a bunch after I was stabbed to death on stage playing Victor in Zastrozzi, but neither really counted, since he only did it for fun, and not because he really meant it.

I think it's important that my next boy brings me flowers, hide them behind his back when I look through the peephole at him, and then surprise me with a boyish flourish as he presents me with a bouquet of the-perfect-shade-of-pink flowers.

Because, damn it, I'm a girl and girls like that kind of shit.

Friday, October 20

day 10913: people... people who need people...

... are the luckiest people in the world...

Seeing Babs in concert tonight. So freaking excited. I love Babs. Always have.

Thursday, October 19

day 10912: blog stalking

I could tell you that I didn’t mean to - that I didn’t start out with the intention of stalking - but you won’t believe me. Had the situation been reversed and I told that to myself, I probably won’t believe myself either.

One site led to another which led to another which led to yet another. I started looking for restaurant recommendations, and ended up finding the blogs of Triscuit’s co-workers.

Sadist that I am, I went through their archives trying to find out details about his wedding to Really-Annoying-Girl (aka Bitch Chick).

On the flip side, strange as this may sound, I know they’re stalking me too

Wednesday, October 18

day 10911: hablo un poco de espanol

If you walk into a pharmacy and use the phrase "Estoy embarazada. Estoy constipado" to order up some laxatives, they'll look at you oddly and laugh to themselves while filling your prescription.

estoy embarazada : (es-toy em-ba-ra-tha-da)
1. I’m pregnant
2. Does NOT mean, “I’m embarassed”

estoy constipado : (es-toy kons-tee-pa-do)
1. I have a cold.
2. Does NOT mean, “I’m constipated”

Tuesday, October 17

day 10910: fraud

One day they'll realize that I'm not really a numbers person, and that I really don't belong in Finance.

Until then, I'll keep pretending that I know what I'm talking about.

Monday, October 16

day 10909: friday the thirteenth.

It was cold for an early October day. It had snowed the day before, and the bare hill top provided no respite from the chill of the wind.

People huddled in groups. For warmth, maybe for comfort; I do not know. Little was said and what little said was hurried.

Flowers tossed, goodbyes whispered, we walked away and prayed that she at last had found peace.

Thursday, October 5

day 10898: missed connection (tribute to craigslist)

you: walking northbound on Victoria
me: walking southbound
we: passed each other in the middle of Richmond

I noticed you noticing me. I didn’t notice my heel getting caught on the streetcar tracks. My shoe fell off...

you: snickered at me
me: turned beet red and mumbled something to myself
we: coffee?

Tuesday, October 3

day 10896: 30 things to do before i'm done being 30

My list, with a twist... until I've crossed every item off, I refuse to age.

1. a passport and a toothbrush
2. learn to converse en français fluently
3. trust again, love again, learn to love myself again
4. ride a mechanical bull
5. be spontaneous and reckless in a good way
6. swim with the sharks
7. decorate a cake a la Colette and Mike
8. write a song and have it performed
9. dance in the rain and dance like no one's watching
10. know my limit and accept it
11. go skinny dipping
12. learn how to take a compliment
13. run a 5k and 10k
14. climb one of the seven summits
15. go to an all-you-can-eat and not eat all-I-can-eat
16. send a message in a bottle
17. write the novel
18. drive the Autobahn
19. ask someone I’ve just met to go on a date
20. stand up to someone for someone
21. lose that last 15lbs
22. buy everyone in a bar a drink
23. ride a camel in the desert
24. follow the Nile and see the pyramids
25. go to Cambodia and explore the temple ruins
26. find a job I love
27. hot air balloon
28. climb the CN tower
29. go on an east coast eating tour
30. save the turtles

Monday, October 2

day 10895: pray for me

If being pregnant is as sucky as having the stomach flu, then I never want to have kids.

Wednesday, September 27

day 10890: open call

I need suggestions for my "30 things to do before I'm done being 30."

Post up and be creative! I've done a lot of stuff in these 29 years of mine...

Tuesday, September 26

day 10889: it’s not the end to the journey, but the journey to the end

Oh sweet nectar, thou dost betray me.

I yearn for you. Too much, methinks.

You force my hand, and I must renounce thee.

Get thee from my sight, oh sweet, wondrous ambrosia.

Get thee from my sight…

Raise one up for me. I’m going dry until December. First step for the 30 things to do before I’m done being 30. I’ll post up another time.

[ed note: hm, this is really hard… let’s try two weeks to start…]

Sunday, September 24

day 10887: so long, farewell...

Saturday, September 23

day 10886: procrastination

um... somebody help?

Thursday, September 21

day 10884: what’s your mcbeef?

Questions du jour:

1. What’s in my McPatty that it only costs $0.04 to upgrade from a cheeseburger to a double cheeseburger? Is it really beef? Should I be scared?

2. Can McD really make a profit on my $0.04 beef patty? Should I be scared?

3. Where in the world is McD’s finding such cheap cows? What kind of crazy-ass mad cows are these? Should I be scared?

4. Why does it cost me $0.10 to get an extra dipping sauce for my McNuggets where it only costs me $0.04 for a “meat product”? Should I be scared?

5. Why do I sound like a crazy-ass cheapo accountant? I’m scared.

Tuesday, September 19

day 10882: go speedracer…

Wow, what a week so far.

Sunday, I almost killed myself stepping on my own dog’s crap. I slipped and skidded and just narrowly avoided a header into boxes of wine glasses.

Today, I got a speeding ticket going 73km/h in a 50km/h zone. Only, I HONESTLY thought that it was 60km/h. 3 demerit points, so I’m taking it to court.

Forget going to the mattresses… I’m going back to bed.

Sunday, September 17

day 10880: courting a new beginning

30 boxes weren’t enough.

In a week, I will be moving home to living with the mama. Hopefully, it will only be for a year until things get settled and the Toronto real estate market crashes.

But somehow I doubt it.

Though I love living by the waterfront, and I love the lifestyle that I lead, there is something missing. I need something more.

I need room to fuel my passions, room to grow, and room to redevelop a love for myself.

Things will be different. It will take a lot of time to adjust. There will be days that I rage against my situation and who I think I’ve become. But hopefully in the end it will all be for the best.

Hopefully, it will only be for a year.

Or until the Toronto real estate market crashes.

Whichever one happens first.

Saturday, September 16

day 10879: wist and wonderment

I dreamt that I bumped into Brad Pitt and we began reminiscing about days past. Years ago, we dated for all of nine days until I dumped him for Triscuit.

I broke Brad’s heart. He came in for a good bye kiss and I rejected him. I completely forgot and laughed at him when he told me. I’d even forgotten that I even dated him.

I woke up thinking that I had to dig up some pictures from that summer to show my Brad Pitt crazed coworker. It took me a while to realize that it had all been a dream and Brad doesn’t know I exist.

Friday, September 15

day 10878: the dog days of summer past

I suppose you’ve been wondering where I’ve been for the past few months. So have I. I can’t remember. All I can think of is the countless times I found myself watching movies at work (at 1am in the morning) when I should have been working. It’s been a rough few months, a tough year. Hopefully, with the moon rising in the third quarter of the setting sun of the eight planet, things will start looking brighter.

But anyway, just in case I totally lost it, my 1st annual summer summary:

1. I watched a lot of television.
2. I watched a lot of movies at work when I should have been working.
3. I figured out how to set up two monitors at work so that I can work with one monitor and show a movie on the other monitor.
4. Really, I actually do use both monitors to work.
5. No, I’m not a geek, and I will never admit to being one.
6. I spent a lot of time at work.
7. When I say a lot, there were days when I went home to grab a shower and a two hour nap and then I went back to work.
8. I gained 8lbs because my gym was closed by the time I got of work.
9. Also, my brain hurt too much to let me work out, and I got really good at justifying my inactivity.
10. Hence, refer back to #1. No brainpower required.
11. As a result of too much #1, I can no longer fall asleep without the television on.
12. I think it’s a conspiracy.
13. I bought a motorcycle at the beginning of the summer.
14. Three weeks later, I tore something in my hand.
15. A week after that, I did it again.
16. As a result, I still have not really ridden the motorcycle I bought in #13.
17. Which pleases my mother very much because the damned Ministry of Finance sent the motorcycle paperwork to my mother’s house.
18. If you haven’t figured it out, mother hates motorcycles.
19. It was probably better that way, since because of #6, I really haven’t had time to ride the motorcycle anyway.
20. It was also the summer of weddings.
21. There were a lot of weddings.
22. I almost went into debt at one point of the summer because of the weddings.
23. While I’m happy for all the married people, weddings make me sad.
24. I was sad a lot this summer.
25. No, it wasn’t necessarily because of the weddings. See #6.
26. Also see #8. #8 really disturbs me, but I still can’t pull my ass off the couch.
27. I spent a lot of time with the dog.
28. I brought her to work.
29. Creepy guy at work made me scared to be at work by myself when everyone else in the building was gone.
30. Thank goodness creepy guy got fired.
31. Part me still thinks that creepy guy is stalking us and watching us from the parking lot across the street.
32. He was really creepy. He said people’s names after he sneezed.
33. He lied a lot.
34. I hate liars.
35. I ended a close friendship this summer because he wouldn’t stop lying.
36. There were other reasons as well, but I don’t feel like talking about it again.
37. It’s over for now, but I’m waiting for the kerplosions.
38. I’m declaring war….
39. I’m going to the mattresses…
40. I’m moving home to live with the maternal one.
41. Don’t ask.
42. It’s only for a year.
43. Kick me if I’m still there in a year.
44. Unless I’m running my wedding cake business out of the basement by then. Then I’ll need the space.
45. Wedding cake business is a result of #21. Crazy cake lady almost got her face shoved into a cake… biotch wrecked the whole planning process of my cousin’s wedding.
46. So did the guy in #35. Idiot.
47. I went to Calgary.
48. There wasn’t as many cowboys as I had hoped.
49. I really like cowboys.
50. And French boys.
51. Alas, I did neither this summer. Gosh darned it.

Tuesday, September 12

day 10875: there’s so much

There’s so much I want to say…
So much I want to do…
So much I want to see…
I want so much to live.

But I can’t because I’m stuck…
In a rut…
In a hole…
In someone else’s life.

Help me.

I’m back.

Saturday, August 12

day 10844: to what end?

Am I still at work because I’m trying to hide from life?

Tuesday, July 18

day 10819: sure do know how to pick 'em...

Feel so slimy and used.


I'm on hiatus. Don't feel like blogging anymore.

Sunday, July 16

day 10817: freak of nature

For an asian girl, I am particularly well endowed. My frontal chestage area, as I’ve just been told, requires an “F” cup. I didn’t even know they made an “F” cup. I’m hoping that “F” is the asian translation for a “C” and that somewhere out there, some flat-chested asian girl is just trying to screw with my mind because she’s so GODDAMN JEALOUS that there actually exists someone with BOOBS BIGGER THAN PEBBLES.

You don’t even know what kind of havoc these things have caused. I’ll be traumatized for life.

Thursday, July 13

day 10814: morbid thursday

As a child, I was fascinated with reference books. I’d sneak into the basement and spend hours reading the set of 1908 encyclopedias my parents bought at a garage sale for $5. I lugged around the Charlie Brown Encyclopedia, sneaked it into my desk at school and flipped through random pages while pretending to pay attention to whatever the heck the teacher du jour was trying to impart.

It used to intrigue me whenever I read through the pages of past US presidents that listed out names and the dates of presidencies. Whenever I got to one where the president died midterm, I’d read the caption “DIED IN OFFICE” and imagine the poor guy lying dead in the Oval Office and wonder how he died.

Check this out… fascinating...

Wednesday, July 12

day 10813: oh me, oh my…

Dear Ontario Lottery and Gaming Corporation,

I believe you’ve made a mistake in your last 649 draw. The numbers should have been 02 15 19 23 17 39.

I thought we had an agreement. I buy a ticket and my numbers come up. I win $10 million, and you fleece another $20 million out of the “losers.” We both come out on top.

I demand an explanation. You reneged on our deal. Did someone offer you more than the $2 that I paid? Did they, perhaps, play encore?

Damn you. I was really looking forward to my $10 millon.



Monday, July 10

day 10811: like a freaking lemming…

Let me tell you, THIS was the most overrated 3.947 seconds of my life.

I want my $6.36 back.

Friday, July 7

day 10808: the week in which I’ve had a billion things to say, but nothing comes out right

Stay tuned.

Monday, July 3

day 10804: $20/week recap…

Hypothetically, it is possible to eat on less than $20/week. It just takes a little finesse and a lot of drastic measures… like cutting out coffee.

By Friday morning, I had only spent $18 on breakfast, lunch, coffee and snacks for the week. I packed a couple lunches, got a free lunch from a committee I’m on, stopped buying coffee and was forced to drink office swill that tasted worse than Chinese herbal medicine.

More impressively, on the $18, I managed to treat a co-worker to a McDonald’s sundae, take a friend to lunch, and buy a teammate a promised Dairy Queen Butterscotch Dipped Cone.

But then I blew the budget Friday afternoon taking Sista out to lunch.

Tuesday, June 27

day 10798: how to survive on $20 a week or less… part two

Day 1 spending… $0.00.

Secret: A surprisingly hearty breakfast of frozen blueberries (thawed in the micronuker, of course) mixed with a packet of 2 year old instant oatmeal. And then a delicious lunch of stirfry made with the freshest of ingredients – 3 month old previously frozen ground beef and extra fermented (extra old) kim chi.

I’m cleaning out the fridge AND I’m eating well…


[ed note: I feel the need to change the title to “how to survive on $20 a week or less… on breakfast, lunch and coffee… because anything more would just be completely ridiculous”]

Monday, June 26

day 10797 ½: today's perplexing questions...

Is there an asian equivalent to white trash?

What do you call a caucasian person who wants to be asian?
day 10797: how to survive on $20 a week or less

It's the first hour of the first day of the "$20 week". Already, I've spent the better part of my morning fantasizing about all the different things I want to go buy for breakfast.

I'm not even hungry.

I want to buy chai... I want to buy coffee...

I want to buy *gasp* a MUFFIN... I DON'T EVEN LIKE MUFFINS!!

Wednesday, June 21

day 10792: i lub me my perks

It's always a good day at monkeyco when a steel drum band makes a company-wide announcement calling everyone down to the bar to do the limbo.

It's even better when you sneak out right afterwards for a massage.

Monday, June 19

day 10790: something my therapist should have told me

Apparently, I have a lot of pent up rage. In the past two weeks, I've pummelled a whole assortment of people who have pissed me off in the last year.

Now, if only it happened in real life and not in my dreams. Maybe then I'll feel vindicated and ready to move on.

Sunday, June 18

day 10789: how i graduated from the school of life with an "f"

Lesson #6341215: Set goals

When you think you've hit rock bottom, you still have a fair ways to go.

Saturday, June 17

day 10788: i deserve deserve really want a fairy tale ending

I'm not saying that my life is miserable or that I've been through such hardship and pain that the radiance of karma should shine down upon me in all it's magnificent glory. That's not the point.

The point is that I while I might not deserve a fairy tale ending or a happy ever after, I want it. I want it badly.

I want it all... the glass slipper, the flowers, and most of all, the prince charming.

Thursday, June 15

day 10786: social misfit

When I was 11, I only knew that making crank calls at sleepovers was “COOL”. I didn’t know what you were supposed to do when you crank called someone, I just knew that it was “FUN” to call someone, giggle and hang up.

What I didn’t know was that it wasn’t “COOL” to call your other friends’ houses, ask their parents if you could speak to them, and when they came to the phone, giggle and hang up. Inevitably, they’d call back, because, like… you’re 11, and you call that house a billion times a day anyway, so their parents RECOGNIZE YOUR VOICE.

Wednesday, June 14

day 10785: overheard...

teacher: kid... would I lie to you?
kid: yeah...
teacher: You're right.


chick-on-the-phone: No anal. Why would I put something in my mouth that's been up my ass... I don't care how many showers you take. That's gross!

Monday, June 12

day 10783: screw with me once, shame on you...

Screw with me twice, shame on me...

Try to force your way back in my life directly or indirectly, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU??

Go to hell.

Sunday, June 11

day 10782: space

There are days when you sit at home on the couch. On the verge of tears because you’re missing something that you don’t even know you’re missing. You wait for something to happen, but you don’t know what it is that you’re waiting for.

You only know that your life is not as complete as you pretend it to be. You’re not quite as together as people think, and things aren’t really falling into place so much as you once hoped that they would.

The goals and ideas that you once knew now no longer exist. Timelines have come and gone, and the only perception of reality that you have for yourself is now in what people expect of you, but not of what you expect of yourself

The truths you once knew have now become a lie, and you are lying to yourself every moment of every waking second, knowing that you’re still searching for the meaning, the purpose, the thing, task or being that will make your life complete.

And the scariest part of it all is that you’re terrified that you won’t recognize it when you find it, so you’ll forever keep looking for something that doesn’t really exist.

Saturday, June 10

day 10781: what the devil is up with the devil?

Waking up in the shower with the water still running at 5am in the morning after a night of heaving out your insides is probably not most people's definition of a good Friday night.

It's not mine either. Really.

Tuesday, June 6

day 10777: 10”… size (er… length) matters…

It took three years of tangles, tears and threats to grow my hair past my waist. Tomorrow night I will bid a sad farewell to it all. But in the end, it’s worth it because there will be a kid out there with a smile bigger than mine.

Monday, June 5

day 10776: so full of hate

Things bug me, and I obsess about them. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop it.

Saps. my. energy.

So. tired. of. all. this.

Friday, May 26

day 10766: monkeyco = fort knox

This place is nuts. I need a passcard to get into the building, need it in the elevator to access my floor, and need it again to get to the office areas on my floor. I forgot my passcard and locked myself in the stairwell.

That’s where I’ve been all week, and I only just got out...

Just joking. Went to Vegas, came back, went to Windsor, came back… and then buried myself in work.

Wednesday, May 17

day 10757: points... runs... meh...

Top of the seventh. Field is soaked from the day's downpour. Blackouts trail by 8 runs. Our heros are disheartened and gloomy. It's been a tough game.

Then a miracle.

9 runs. I think someone hit a grand-slam. Wait... maybe not. Only two people were on base, but still the screams of joy.

Bottom of the seventh... it's only a seven inning game. First guy strikes himself out. Second guy fouls on the infield-fly rule, eventually makes it to first base... damn it, the second baseman should have gotten it (oh wait, that was me). He eventually makes it to second. Drat.

But then, the enemy gets suckered by their own batting order. Girl one, out! Girl two... we watch with bated breath, strike... pitch again... hit... crap!

Suddenly, someone snags it, and launches it to first. Ball floats in slow-motion. Everything else besides the ball ceases to exist.



Blackouts win 20-19. Yay.

Tuesday, May 16

day 10756: as empty as what's inside my head

From: New Coworker Dude
To: Schmassion
Re: meeting

Just to let you know, your boss, [Boss's name], will be in meetings for the morning.


New Coworker Dude

From: Schmassion
To: Ex-Coworker Chick
Re: FWD meeting

Something tells me that I'm not being friendly enough to the new guy.

From: Ex-Coworker Chick
To: Schmassion
Re: Re FWD meeting

Wait! Doesn't he sit next to you?

From: Schmassion
To: Ex-Coworker Chick
Re: Re Re FWD meeting


Monday, May 15

day 10755: reason #559847135698 why i should never have children

I forgot my Schmootsie's birthday.

Friday, May 12

day 10752: how strange...

[ed note: Holy crap! Somehow I thought today was Friday the 13th, hence the entry down below. Ugh... I think I have too much on my mind again. Sucks to be me]

Last year, there was a Friday the 13th in May too. I know, because that was the day that the lamebrain ER doctor called to tell me that my back was cracked, and that I'd possibly be shorter than my self-proclaimed 5'1½".

Because, you know, that ½" makes all the difference.

Size matters. Don't let them lie to you when they tell you it doesn't.

Wednesday, May 10

day 10750: raison d’être...

Trying to be me. And trying to be happy.

This makes me happy.

Tuesday, May 9

day 10749: once bitten, twice shy…

The other day, someone introduced me to the world of toasted ramen noodles. Crush the noodle lump into smaller lumps, toss it into the toaster oven for a bit, sprinkle with seasoning and enjoy.

Quick and easy, it’s a pretty good snack. Especially late at night when the store downstairs is closed, and you’re craving something salty and crispy.

But what she didn’t tell me was this… when you’re using the hot and spicy Korean ramen noodles, go light on the seasoning. Otherwise you’d be running around your house for half an hour, downing water and juice like crazy while stuffing your mouth full of ice cubes...and then you'd be talking like “thiff” the next day becauthe your tongue and your lipth are thill thwollen.

Monday, May 8

day 10748: meet the kids

Roles are reversed. Tonight I get to meet the Maternal One's new beau.

As retarded as this might sound, I am completely prepared to dislike him for about two minutes for something as arbitrary and stupid as having a mustache or having big earlobes.

And then maybe I'll be supportive, or at least try to be.

How's that for poetic justice?

Thursday, May 4

day 10744: what the fcuk did I ever do in a past life to deserve all this?

{Begin Rant}

Dear Guy-Who-Just-Walked-Out-Of-the-Elevator,

Not to be blunt, but when you hear someone yell out “Ew, GROSS!” just as they walk into the elevator you just left, it means either one of two things:

1. You smell. Please take a shower. If your stench lingers after you’ve left the area, it’s an issue. You might want to consider seeing a doctor.

2. You fcuking let one rip in the elevator, you pig-scum. It’s a fcuking enclosed space which means limited air circulation, which means that you are lower than low to make the next person suffer the consequences of your 3am burrito fetish. AND… if you smirked or giggled or even thought it was remotely funny… you fcuker, I hope you suffocate to death in your own methane hell one day.

{/End Rant}

Tuesday, May 2

day 10742: kapoopie's momma asked me to make her 200 jello shots

Some days I feel like my life revolves around alcohol.

Oh wait. It does.

Monday, May 1

day 10741: there has to be a story in it somewhere...



wake up Saturday morning hungover, naked, you and the dog are both covered in barbeque sauce, you broke a heel in your boot sometime Friday night, and now it's Monday and you still haven't been able to find your glasses.

Someone's got issues.

Friday, April 28

day 10738: it's a sign...

Either I'm getting old, or I'm an alcoholic.

I think I woke up drunk, and I just became hungover.

Just joking. I have a headache because my auditors are pissing me off.

Thursday, April 27

day 10737: stop the presses…

Imagine my surprise this morning when I opened my inbox, clicked on a seemingly harmless email forward about a beach party, and discovered that Triscuit and BC are getting married.

Triscuit? Married? WTF? Is this a joke?

To say it was a shock would be a complete underestimation of how I felt. It felt like someone gut punched me, ran me over with a dump truck, and then threw my battered body off the Empire State Building. My voice quivered, tears rolled. Thoughts of any kind were near impossible.

I completely lost it.

Then the phone calls and the support emails came rolling in… everyone also in shock, but also caring about how I was reacting to the news.

I’m blessed with wonderful friends. Thank you.

It's been a busy day, but I've done a lot of thinking. I'm fine with Triscuit getting married. I'm over him, and I don't really care. I feel sorry for him, and I feel sorry for his fiancee (both for different reasons), but other than that, I don't really care either way.

What I don't like, however, is how I found out. I don't appreciate having to find out through an email forward with a message that said, "Holy Shit, you going to this?"

Truthfully, I wasn't invited. Nor would I have expected him to invite me. I would not have gone anyway.

But, there is something to be said for tact. There's always a better way of phrasing things. And to me, the shock of finding out that way hurt a lot more.

Tuesday, April 25

day 10735: well meaning, but very misguided “friends” who really only want to ride in the limo

-----Original Message-----
From: Misguided []
Sent: Friday, April 14, 2006 2:15 PM
CC: Misguided#2
Subject: Dear MatchMaker

Our friend Schmassion is a beatiful asian woman who right now stuck in a rut. She's dated several guys and none of them has really worked out. She thinks most men are intimidated by her active lifestyle, whether it's playing hard(rock climbing/snowboard) or partying hard(she's an accountant, enough said).

My friend Misguided#2 and I think we can pick the right guy for her. She rather hesitant about letting two male friends pick, but since she gone through all our friends, we thought we try some strangers off the street. Is there an application form you could send me? I have pictures and all revelant info.


My response… WTF?!!!!!!!!! Strangers off the street???!!! No way, no how. Thank goodness they stopped filming MatchMaker.

Oh, and FYI, I DID NOT go through all their friends!!! ... only two...

Monday, April 24

day 10734: lol…

I’m not sure what’s cuter. The fact that the Maternal One is dating, or that she goes into the bathroom when he calls so I won’t overhear what she’s talking about.

Thursday, April 20

day 10730: bod mod

It’s pink and it’s sparkly, and it didn’t hurt at all.

I like it.

Wednesday, April 19

day 10729: dear grandmother

My dearest grandmother,

You do realize that it’s only been a few weeks (i.e. 2 ½ weeks, but who’s counting) that I’ve been single. I don’t know how you knew before I told you, but you knew nonetheless…even though, of course, you pretended not to. Apparently, the family grapevine is alive and kicking. I’m just not supposed to know about it.

Within days, you, with your AGING, SINGLE, PROFESSIONAL, ASIAN grandchild, have already reached out to your little network of equally desperate grandparents all of whom are dying to set up their own AGING, SINGLE, PROFESSIONAL, ASIAN grandchildren. (notice a trend here?) You’ve got everyone all riled up. The aunties and the uncles are on the hunt, rifling through their rolodexes (ok, Palm Pilots), making phone call after phone call, inquiring about the status of Son #1, or Son #2.

How’s Son#1? He broke up with his white girlfriend? Oh, how sad… she was a tramp anyway. WHAT? He’s looking to get married to an ASIAN girl now? His optometrist brother is SINGLE TOO? That’s FANTASTIC… *buzz buzz buzz*

And then I get the phone call.

Would I be open to a casual meet and greet? Dim sum on Sunday? No pressure, I can meet him as a friend... WHAT? He’s got a brother too? What the hell? HELL NO I WON’T GO! Let me live. Let me find myself. Let me enjoy my singledom for a while before I have to start worrying about whether NewBoy would be willing to sleep in the same bed as my dog. You’ve already arranged it? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! You can’t do this to me!!! Cancel. Cancel. Cancel.

I, honestly, don’t know how you do it… and so fast, too. You must have broken a speed record. Or maybe you have their numbers programmed into your phone. Just in case things didn’t work out with Bacon. I’ve got a sneaky little suspicion that you started the process even BEFORE Bacon and I split. That’s a little evil.

Yes, grandmother, I know “companionship” is really important. I love “companionship.” Yes, I’m missing it, and no, I’m not getting any younger. Please, let’s call it what it really is. Sex. I realize that you care very deeply for me, and you just want to see me happy (and having sex). I know you want to find me a nice boy to take care of me. But I can take care of myself, grandmother. I do it quite well and live rather nicely, if I do say so myself. I make a lot of money for doing the little work that I do. I support myself… even though my condo is the size of a shoebox and I live paycheque to paycheque. Ok, so I'm not having any sex, but who said I could have my cake and eat it too.

Grandmother, I’m begging you. Please let me enjoy it for a little while at least before you put in the SOS to every single asian family in this city with an unattached son who is a doctor, dentist, pharmacist or engineer. I love you lots, but look what happened last time you set me up.

He was shorter than me.

He stalked me.

Need I say more?

Ps. What I really want to know… remember that boy who drove us to the airport after the wedding in New Jersey last summer? How the heck did you think that I gave him my number (i.e. having only been broken up with Triscuit for two weeks)? (It was Sista, btw, not me) And how the heck did you arrange for HIS PARENTS to come up from NEW JERSEY this past weekend and for me to BE THERE when they WALKED IN THE DOOR. That was really sneaky. You’re good, grandmother, really good. I respect that.

Monday, April 17

day 10727: conspiracy theory

What is it with married people or soon to be married people where they think that everyone has to be married to be happy?

I don’t get it. Do they get brainwashed by aliens as soon as they buy the ring? Is it the magical, mystical power of the almighty diamond? Because when you think about it, two months salary is a heck of a whole lot of cash. I’d rather buy a motorcycle. But then I’d be afraid to ride it just in case I crash my “symbol of undying love”… and then died.

I’m a romantic at heart. I really am. I’d love nothing more than to find the man of my dreams, my one and only. But seriously, apart from financial reasons, is there really a reason to get married?

Sometimes I’m not so sure.

Saturday, April 15

day 10725: just when you think things couldn't get any worse

My harddrive blew. I just lost the past four years of my life...

Damnit... I should have backed things up.

Thursday, April 13

day 10723: basic economics

It crazy how much money you save when you stop eating.

Wednesday, April 12

day 10722: three little words

All day, I kept having the undeniable urge to pick up the phone, and say three very special words.

Go. Fuck. Yourself.

Dumbass monkeyco... whaddaya want from me?

Tuesday, April 11

day 10721: on the other side of fear lies freedom

I am afraid…
…afraid of falling…
…afraid of crashing…
…afraid that I’ll wake up one day and find myself 50, and alone…
…afraid of pain…
…afraid of hurt…
…afraid of what happens if I don’t die…
…afraid that I’ll never find the person who will complete me…
…afraid of trusting…
…afraid of betrayal…
…afraid no one wants me…
…afraid of saying too much…
…afraid of saying too little…
…afraid that I’ve already let too many opportunities slip by me…
…afraid of a future that I can’t see clearly…
…afraid to stay…
…afraid to leave…
…afraid of insecurity…
…afraid that I’ve lost me…

…afraid to be me…

What are you afraid of?

Wednesday, April 5

day 10715: stoic silence

I lied. I’m sorry. I’ve lied to everyone who's asked me how I’m doing. I say I’m fine, I’ll survive this, and it’s no big deal, everyone goes through this. I’m not fine. Sometimes, yes, most times even, but not all the time. And it IS a big deal. It would be unfair to Bacon for me to actually believe otherwise.

There are moments when I come close to picking up the phone, or close to typing out a message… a lot of moments. Occasionally, it’s more than just wondering how he’s doing, what he’s doing, how he’s feeling, or wondering about things left unsaid. But these moments pass, because I force them to.

I have to.

Some call it strength. They write to me telling me how strong a woman I am. I’m not, really. They don’t see my hands shake, or the tears that well up in my eyes out of the blue. It’s not strength. It’s a coping mechanism. If other people believe I’m fine, they’ll stop asking, and then I’ll stop answering, and I’ll stop thinking about things. Then I can move on.

And I have to move on so that someday we can be friends again. Hopefully soon. Bacon is very special (not in a short-bus kind of way) and definitely someone that I very much want to keep in my life.

Tuesday, April 4

day 10714: a whisper of wishful thinking

Some days I’m just chugging along, going with the flow, trying not to think of the immense list of could-haves-and-would-haves, until a random sentence, a quick flick of the mouse, and a post or two obviously not meant for me catches my eye and draws me into it’s spiral. Then I realize that my problems are really not unique and that it’s something that everyone goes through and it makes me feel a wee bit better.

It’s funny that I think of things in terms of days, and not months or years. Perhaps, it’s that every day is a new beginning, and despite me really hating it when people say that something is what you make it out to be, it’s true. Every day is what you make it out to be, and what I don’t want to be is miserable anymore.

It helps that I’m not pms’g anymore. If anyone ever tells you that there is no such thing as pms, and that it’s just a woman’s excuse for being bitchy… don’t believe him… hell hath no fury like a woman pms’g. It really is a night and day difference.

It feels funny, but I’m smiling again... or at least trying to.

Monday, April 3

day 10713: déjà vu

It’s hard to pinpoint when things actually start going wrong. Looking back, it’s never that things are wrong; it’s more that things aren’t right. It’s harder trying to figure out what will make it right…and then even more so trying to actually do it.

Unfortunately, sometimes it can’t be done.

I think motorcycle weekends are cursed for me. Bacon and I are no more.

I’m going into hiding for a while…

Tuesday, March 28

day 10707: runner up #2…!!


In the case that Bridesmaid and Bridesmaid runner up #1 are unable to fulfill their bridesmaid duties, it is my obligation, as Bridesmaid runner up #2 to step in and hand the Bride little squares of folded Kleenex during the ceremony so that her mascara doesn’t get runny.

Little does she know, I’ll probably be bawling alongside with the rest of the gang… we’re that happy for her.

Monday, March 27

day 10706: it’s all about me

When I say that the world revolves around me, and that it’s all about me, I don’t mean that everything has to go my way or else. What I mean is that there should be at least some consideration of me and my “feelings” and that I shouldn’t be feeling like I’m an afterthought.

Because on the flip side of everything, to me, it’s all about you.

Friday, March 24

day 10703: giving back

A bunch of us were feeling magnanimous last night and volunteered to do tax returns for kids at one of the children’s charities in the city… it was a complete and utter blast. The kids were cool, funny, and, well, it sure beats staying home and cleaning up after the contractors’ mess…

Schmassion: Are you married, divorced, single, common-law…?
Kid 1: I’m single. You single?
Schmassion: I’m here to do your tax return, not pick you up.
Kid 1: Too bad. You still in school? How old are you?
Schmassion: Too old for you. Do you have any kids?
Kid 1: No. Do you? Want some?

Kid 2: Yeah, but I’m cute. Don’t you think I’m cute?
Schmassion: Dude, you’re thirteen. Come back in three years.
Kid 2: Fine.
*two seconds later*
Kid 2: I’m back… and I’m still cute.
Schmassion: Why don’t you go get a cookie?

Thursday, March 23

day 10702: day 4 of silence

Despite the rosy glow I try to paint in all my schmassion childhood stories, things were far from being peachy. Things weren’t disastrous by any means, but we had our bouts of spats, disagreements, attempted murder etc etc. We were a typical family; we children fought amongst ourselves, the parents fought amongst themselves. Sibling rivalry abound, I’m sure there are as many times when Sista hated my guts as when I hated hers. Probably more times for her, I wasn’t an easy person to get along with.

When times were good, they were great. Sunday afternoons, we’d finish lunch, watch American Gladiators or some other brain sucking television program and pile into my parents’ bed for a communal nap. Four of us in one bed, it was awesome. We’d lie there, laugh, chat and gradually fall asleep. Wake up late in the afternoon, and then get on with our days. To this day, nothing feels quite the same, nothing feels quite as content.

When times were bad, though, everyone watch out. I had a bad temper - a quick temper. I was a force to be reckoned with. Just joking. Not quite. All of us had tempers. All of us have been known to throw things, break things, lash out in anger with words, storm out of the room, hang up on each other, well, you get my drift. It was a long time before I learned how to even begin controlling my temper, and I admit, to this day, it still occasionally peeks through.

Sista and I fought about almost everything under the sun… toys, boys, television, music. The parents, on the other hand, only fought about two things. Money or family, both of which always had to do with things on my dad’s side of the family… long story that I’ll save for another day. We’d plead and beg for them to stop fighting, making empty promises about how Sista and I would stop fighting if they stopped fighting. Even then they laughed at us, knowing that the probability of us being able to accomplish such a feat would be slim.

Things escalated when I was about 12. There was a huge fight (probably about money or family, more likely about lending money to family), the Maternal One got pissed, packed her bags, grabbed Sista by the arm and left. Came back fifteen minutes later and decided to kick out Da instead. He came back after spending a couple of nights in the car somewhere and things were quickly back to “normal.” It was the only time I’d ever seen him cry.

During all this, and the times afterwards, I always wondered, why did the Maternal One only take Sista, and what the heck did I do to piss her off at me?

It’s day 4 of silence. It’s been much worse before, but this time, I feel like I'm playing for keeps.

Wednesday, March 22

day 10701: beefs, bitches, and a barrage of miscellany including a bling-flinging barrista…

Blame it on the crazy glue, and my obsession with figuring out underwear logistics, I know it’s been a while. So long that I haven’t even talked about Mexico and that was almost a month ago… too long ago…

A lot of stuff has happened over the past little while; stuff that you want to talk to your therapist about, stuff that you want psychoanalyzed, but you can’t because your pseudo-therapist cancelled on you. I think I scare her.

Oh, and I was just joking about the bling-flinging barrista. Who wants Starbucks when you can Roll Up the Rim to Win.

Beefs, bitches and a barrage of miscellany in no particular order…

~ Monkeyco moseyed close to the plate. They offered $5K less than the lowest number in the range that I gave them. Thus, search for new Monkeyco has begun. I don’t like being taken advantage of.

~ That said, well, maybe Monkeyco presented a good point about some things, but regardless, I’m still not happy. Thus, search for new Monkeyco has begun.

~ To the prospective new Monkeycos, please don’t ask where I picture myself to be in 5 years. The world is changing faster than my mind. What I want to be in 5 years is rich and retired, but how can I tell you that in a job interview… DUH!!!

~ Also to the prospective new Monkeycos, how do I tell you that I'm leaving because I don't really like my boss without sounding petty and vindictive... HOW? Just tell me how.

~ New Monkeyco search is going very slowly. I am being really, really picky. But, at this moment in time, my motivation is pure, undiluted greed.

~ Money isn’t everything. Greed can be for experience too… I just want it all… but mostly the money.

~ Condo management sent out a notice last week that water pipes were to be fixed in my unit, thus requiring the vacating of all items in the kitchen and bathroom so holes can be cut into the wall. I spent the WEEKEND cleaning things out, and the only hole in the wall is beside the couch… WHERE I STASHED ALL THE STUFF FROM THE KITCHEN AND BATHROOM. Needless to say, they moved everything around and neither party is impressed.

~ The maternal one keeps demanding that I move home and stop deserting her in her time of need. I have no good words to say about that one, except that your way or no one's way does not fit the definition of "compromise." ARGHHHH... source of neverending frustration.

~ I found my dream bike. It’s whatever bike is black and burgundy. Really, at the moment, it’s the GSXR-750, but paint it any other colour, and I probably won’t recognize it. Who knew I was such a girl. (When you click on the link, and I know you will, remember… BLACK AND BURGUNDY… *drool*)

~ Apparently speeding in a school zone is a major conviction and seriously affects your eligibility for cheap car insurance. Maybe I should have disputed my ticket 2 YEARS AGO! I swear officer, that school isn’t really a SCHOOL... it’s 8:45 in the MORNING on a SCHOOL DAY… do you see any kids? Honestly, folks, the playground was deserted.

~ Seriously, I think I use the word “seriously” too much. Who am I kidding, I can never be taken seriously… I’m never serious, seriously. Case in point.

I’m single until Saturday… anyone up for something Friday?

Monday, March 20

day 10699: let’s play another game… wwjd?

Say J’s mother was very, very opposed to J ever riding/sitting/riding on the back of/thinking about/dreaming about/etc a motorcycle and wanted J to promise never to do any of all of the above.

Say J’s mother wanted J to practically sign in blood that J would never do any of the all of the above.

Say J really, really, really liked doing all of the above EXCEPT riding on the back of a motorcycle, because realistically, J is a driver, not a passenger (let’s get real, folks). And J is about [this close] to buying one, and will definitely never give up riding one.

If you were J, WWJD?

I’ll tell you what J shouldn’t have done. ..

J’s response to the maternal one’s comments of “I lost your dad, I don’t want to lose you too” (and subsequent rambling) probably shouldn’t have been, “Well, I think he would have thought it would be fun, and he’d probably have wanted to ride one too.”

Response to further maternal ramblings shouldn’t have been, “Yeah, well, you probably won’t have let him anyway.”

Sunday, March 12

day 10691: and in conclusion...

No, it's not possible to take off your underwear without taking of your jeans and your boots.

Friday, March 10

day 10689: tip of the week

If you get a run in your nylons, DON’T USE CRAZY GLUE.

Wednesday, March 8

day 10687: pulllllllllllllllllllllllll…

Some days I feel like a clay pigeon hurtling through the open air at some crazy ass speed, waiting for the bullet to hit and smash me into smithereens. I try my best to be positive, to look at the brighter side of things, but some days, a head full of bubble gum thoughts just doesn’t help.

You can tell me not to worry, and assure me that everything will play out in the end. You can tell me that my problems are no big deal, but really no matter what you say, in the end it doesn’t matter… I’m still just waiting.

Waiting to win the lottery.

Waiting for a new monkeyco to make me an offer I can’t refuse.

Waiting for people to step up to the plate.

Waiting for something to change so that I can live the life I want to live.

Then,when all the waiting is done, and something does happen, the world as I know it will be completely different. And probably not in a good way.

Tuesday, March 7

day 10686 ½: btw…

I ran/walked my first 5K today. Niagara Try-a-Tri, you’re going DOWN!!
day 10686: ode to my cube

Be vewy, vewy quiet. It’s wabbit hunting season…

It’s RESTRUCTURING time at monkeyco. Officially, I’m still here. Unofficially, I checked out a long time ago.

A conspiracy is afoot. Everyone I like is gone.

Monday, March 6

day 10685: oh jack…

The best thing about feeling sick is the sheer amounts of brain rotting tv that I finally get to watch while "recuperating". Alas, Sunday night, the only thing on was the Oscars. BORING!!!! No matter how hard I tried, I could't bring myself to watch it and channel surfed for a good three or four hours.

But then, something caught my eye. Jack Osbourne climbing the 3,000 ft Salathe Wall on El Capitan!!??? Incredible!!

*I wanna I wanna I wanna I wanna I wanna*

This makes my 1,200 ft Estrellita summit at Potrerro Chico seem peanuts in comparison. Damn, but I’m jealous.

Then they got to the part where they showed his friend, Bean, taking a pee while the cameras were rolling and I remembered that no matter how much I want to do El Cap, there's a really, really good chance that I never will... because I will never be able to pee on the wall...

They climbed for six days and slept on the wall for 5 nights. I'm good at holding it, but I ain't that good.

Thursday, March 2

day 10681: tee hee… i farb-dud*…

Burp me the alphabet and I would be suitably impressed if you get past “T”. Tell me about the smell, colour, and texture of your daily offerings to the Porcelain God, and I will cover my ears and sing out “Tra-la-la-I’m-not-listening.” Fart at me or even near me, and I will scream for mercy and go running for the hills.

Yes, I AM that sensitive**.

So, when once upon a time, I heard stories of a Kentucky climbing trip that involved fire and huge amounts of passed gas, I should have clued in. Boys on trips without their girlfriends or wives = bad news. Bring a gas mask. And some matches.

Maybe it’s something they ate, or maybe they delighted in being away from respectable civilization and the freedom went to their brains… maybe it was the beans or maybe it was the magic sauce from the truckstop… I don’t know, but let me just tell you one thing…

Yuge can clear a room and has no qualms doing it.

*Backstory: Da was your typical run-of-the-mill asian immigrant who came to Canada for a decent university education. He studied hard, lost his accent, went on to bigger and better things, but somehow in his twenty-odd years in Canada, never learned the word “fart” as part of his vocabulary. That is, until we came home as kids with potty mouths and taught it to him. I’m not sure if it was a comprehension thing, a translation thing that just didn’t quite click, or something he delighted in tormenting me with, but for the rest of his life, “fart” came out of his mouth as “farb” and “farted” as “farb-dud.” And typical guy that he was, he’d let one rip, say, “Tee hee… I farb-dud” and watch with glee as we screamed and ran for the hills.

**Not to say that I don’t. But gas is a very private thing for me and something that should be kept to oneself, and never, ever shared…

Wednesday, March 1

day 10680: please sir, can i have my life back?

Naively, I believed that once I returned from the Epic-Mexican-Climbing-Adventure my life would return to normal and once again be simple. I’d have free days in my calendar and weekends perfect for sleeping in.

Except, I forgot that my life was never simple to begin with. Free days in my calendar never existed and a weekend perfect for sleeping in was just a figment of my imagination.

If it’s even possible, my social life is burning me out.

Tuesday, February 28

day 10679: looking over my shoulder

There’s a girl following me. I’ve seen her at the gym, I’ve seen her at the Timmy’s next to my office, and seen her on street corners all over downtown. I’ve even seen her at Jamie Kennedy Wine Bar on a non-Winterlicious night. (How weird is that?)

Funniest part of it all, I think she went to one of my high schools and I think she might have gone to my university.


I think she’s an accountant…

It’s getting kind of scary… as if she leads the parallel life to mine. I think I’m being stalked.

Somebody hold me…

Monday, February 27

day 10678: bruised and battered, but oh-so-giddy

Yep, I'm back. I'm alive. My legs are covered in various shades of purple where I banged against the rock. I've got scratches from battling cacti, and stories that you wouldn't believe.

A lesson learned from this trip... everything happens for a reason. Life is a series of fortunate/unfortunate coincidences that hopefully all works out in the end.


More later. Nap first.

Friday, February 17

day 10668: tying up loose ends

18Feb06 To Monterrey
Air Canada flight AC993 terminal 1
Toronto to Mexico City 8:35am - 12:40pm

Mexicana : flight MX1584
Mexico City to Monterrey 3pm - 4:20 pm

26Feb06 To Toronto
Air Canada: flight AC9754
Monterrey to Mexico City 11:30am - 1pm

Air Canada: flight AC992 terminal 1
Mexico City to Toronto 2:25pm - 7:50pm

Staying at Quinta La Pagoda in Hidalgo (El Potrero).

Be good boys and girls, and I’ll tell you the stories when I get back.

Thursday, February 16

day 10667: the gift that keeps on giving

The first time I filled out my organ donor card, it was accompanied by a lot of yelling, and a lot of tears from the maternal one.

Last night, when I filled out the donor card that accompanied my brand-spanking-new motorcycle licence, I filled it out as usual… “everything except heart.”

The maternal one who was acting as my witness, took one look at what I wrote and said, “Why? You don’t need it anyway. Cross that part out." And so I did.

It seems she can’t wait to give me away.

Wednesday, February 15

day 10666: psychoanalyst babble

As a favour to a co-worker, I’m volunteering to be a case study for her soon-to-be-psychotherapist cousin. Tonight’s session will be the commencement of many tear jerking nights where we’ll talk about my commitment issues with my favourite type of chocolate bar, my fear of abandonment by my dog, my authority issues with the Subway police, my fear of tiny white flowers in the middle of great big bodies of open water, blah blah blah…

Really, I’m not sure I have any major issues except that I’m stubborn to a fault at times, and I’m REALLY good at denial. These ones I can accept. Nobody’s perfect.

But, playing along with the grand scheme of things, I should probably have a goal or something I want to accomplish at the end of all this…

*drum roll*

~ What is my obsession with playing with my boy’s ears?
~ If I’m happy that I’m denial and I can accept that I’m in denial, am I still in denial?
~ How much wood does a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? (Believe me, it’s much harder to type this than to say it…)
~ Are those voices that I’m constantly hearing just in my head, or is some drunken guy on the street yelling “JUST DO IT” over and over again?

Life is just peachy-keen, ain't it?

Monday, February 13

day 10664: ice ice baby

[ed note: Before I go any further, I want to thank My-Boy-Bacon for being so sweet and wonderful the entire weekend… for driving the 9 hours to Quebec City (and the 9 hours back)… for letting me pick the things I wanted to do even though this weekend really was supposed to be all for him… for being there while I fulfilled MY DREAM of sleeping in the Ice Hotel, and letting me use him (and his Christmas present) as an excuse to do it… for walking through half the city of Quebec looking for a restaurant I wanted even though the one he wanted was the first one we passed by which we eventually made our way back to… and most of all, for entertaining me during the long hours we spent in the car, because heaven knows, I really suck as a passenger… oh, and for not getting sick of me despite all that I put him through this weekend… ]


I’m not sure what took my breath away first: the frigid cold of the teeth shattering -28˚C night, or the utter astonishment I felt when I first laid eyes on the giant ice cube in which I was supposed to sleep.

Ok. I lied.

It was the cold that did it. Snatched the breath right out of my chest and left me gasping and shivering like a mad woman. Teeth chattering, bone shattering, fcuking-can’t-even-talk-because-I’m-so-cold-ing, whatever the heck you want to call it, it was cold. Bitterly so. I don’t think I’ve ever felt my eyelids so close to freezing before.

Blizzard in NYC, bah… try driving up winding country roads where the snow banks are taller than your car, then we’ll talk. Toronto, schmoronto… call in the army, why don’t you… no wonder we’re the laughingstock of the country. I’ve been cold, and I’ve been colder, but somehow the thought of spending a night in the deep chill of Quebec did nothing to warm the blood in my veins (the bottle of wine, and the vodka drinks, on the other hand, was another story). But it was an adventure of a lifetime, and something that I’ve wanted to do for years.

Like most things Canadian, the exterior of the Ice Hotel was unassuming. I experienced a pang of mild disappointment as we drove up. That was it? Gosh darned it, the pile of snow in the middle of the parking lot seemed bigger. Where were the multi levels like in the James Bond movie? Where were the Aston Martins in the parking lot? Reality check… maybe my expectations were a little high.

We checked in and took care of all the administrative details before we attempted to breach the sentinel guarded gates. Arranged for dinner reservations, orientation sessions, dogsled excursions; my credit card receipt signing hand was a little shaky (from the cold). We hadn’t even stepped foot into the hotel yet.

“I feel like a Japanese tourist.”

“Bon soir. Good evening.” The sentinel greeted us with a warm smile and a casual glance at our zipper passes. We walked through the torch lit gateway and the metre thick snow walls into the compound that would be our home.

With fifteen minutes before we had to depart for our dinner reservations, it was a race against time. We wanted to explore everything. There was so much to see in that deceivingly huge complex. The ice sculptures, the Absolut bar, the N’Ice Club, the spa, the rooms – my God, the rooms. Everything glittered and sparkled in the brightly coloured lights; one moment red, another blue, and then green.

The elegance and the artistry were astounding. The subtle curve of one wall would meld in with another. Figures were carved in relief in the snow and ice, and highlighted with a carefully arranged spot light; lighting so casual and warm that you almost forgot that you were in a giant igloo. Indeed, after a while, it almost felt warm. -5˚C “indoors” was bearable.

It was late. The majority of tourists had already departed for the day. The only people still wandering about were other guests, like us, who had time to kill before braving the cold for the night. Our footsteps crunched beneath us. It was time for dinner.

après une cozy dinner for two

Warm again and stuffed to the gills, we left the Hotel Duchesnay for our orientation session. The problem (or benefit) with living in a bilingual country is that you get to hear everything in both French and English. We watched while she explained everything to the French couple, and then watched as she explained things again in English.

My French n’est-ce pas bon.

First you take everything out of the stuff sack. There is a pillow, a sleeping bag, and a cover for your sleeping bag in case you get cold. The “sheets” are inside the pillow. Step one, crawl into the “sheets.” Make sure it’s facing the right way if you want to see anything as you lie there in the dark, encased in a mummy bag. Ha ha. Step two, squirm into your sleeping bag. There is a fleece pocket for your feet. Don’t wear shoes. Yes, wear socks. Steps three to a hundred, get into your sleeping bag, zip it up halfway, attach the cover to the velcros, lie down, do up the Velcro near the top, zip up the rest of the bag, pull the cordalette that keeps the bag snug around your neck, don’t pull too hard if you want to breathe, ha ha, pull the cordalette on the hood so that only a small part of your face (i.e. nose and mouth) are showing. Good night, sleep tight, it’s too cold for any bed bugs to bite. You can arrange for a wake up call at the front desk.

PS. Don’t wear too much clothes. You don’t want to sweat because then you’ll be REALLY cold. Ha ha.

Wow. That was a lot of information. As accustomed that I am to camping and doing outdoor activities (or so I claim, but you really can’t prove it), I was floored. I’d never gone winter camping before. I didn’t even own thermal underwear. -30˚C rated sleeping bags… OMFG… brrrrrr… it was going to be one cold night. Morning might find me frozen solid in the fetal position huddled under a billion layers of clothing, and burrowed so close to My-Boy-Bacon so as to… um… yeah… onto the club.

alcohol helps, but so too, does a nice long dip in a hot tub

It takes a brave person to walk outside in -28˚C weather in nothing more than a swimsuit and a toque. It takes an even braver person to get out of the hot tub to streak across the frozen ground and into the sauna when your feet freezes to the ground if you stand still for a mere moment.

There’s something about a clear night in the middle of winter when the moon is almost at it’s fullest and feeling like you’re the only two people in the world that makes it seem worth it. Your troubles melt away and there’s nothing left except to sit back and enjoy the moment… if only to postpone the actual process of getting into bed.

We had pruned, and we had sauna’d ourselves until we were dry. It was past midnight, and finally time for bed. Dressed for bed (tights, socks, fleece jogging pants, dry-fit shirt with perspiration wicking properties, cotton t-shirt, fleece and a toque), we began the semi-arduous process of squirming into the various layers of bedding. Sheet, sleeping bag, tuck feet into fleece, zip half, cover, Velcro, zip other half, pull cordalette, arrange pillow, etc etc etc…

god help me if i have to pee in the middle of the night...

Finally settled, and actually feeling warm and toasty, we drifted off to sleep, snug as a bug, in a rug.

[ed note: We actually slept in a much, much simpler room. Picture above is a theme room… another $100… yikes… but I think definitely worth it had I known the difference… ]

Thursday, February 9

day 10660: remind me once again…

Sitting here sipping coffee like a maniac. It’s barely past lunch, and I’m drunk as a skunk. Ok, not so much drunk as a skunk, but definitely on the happier side of sober - one of the joys (or pitfalls) of monkeyco, I suppose, depending on your point of view.

Off to Quebec tomorrow to freeze my boobs off. Ice hotel, Winter Carnival… mmmm… should be fun…

… and cccccold… brrrrrrr

Wednesday, February 8

day 10659: nerves of steel

I’ll admit that I’m pretty nervous about Mexico. I’ve spent the past days tying and retying knots, reading about building anchors, and cramming climbing knowledge into my already overworked brain. And while my body remains relatively uninjured, and my mental blocks have been temporarily eased, thoughts of factor 2 falls, rappels off the end of my rope and knots magically untying haunt me.

My palms sweat every time I think about it.

I’m at a place where I should be comfortable in my climbing abilities. The extra couple classes of yoga and the unending rounds of push-ups and sit-ups have me almost back to pre-May 12-accident shape. I know I’m still carrying a *few* extra pounds of spare weight, but it’s nothing that will hold me back. I’m climbing strong though I technically should be climbing stronger. But that’s only half the challenge.

The other half is the mental fortitude and determination that it will take to get up the mountain. That’s where I’m lacking. My body is capable, but my mind freezes. I have a habit of forgetting to breathe when I’m in a tough situation. I cling to the wall afraid to take the fall, and lose focus. I yell “take” even though I know I should push on. Stories of 35’ run-outs on a 5.10b constantly run through my mind.

I’ve done what I can and what I can’t do I’m committed to giving a 100% effort. But there are other people involved and I have to take their efforts and goals into consideration. Though I am the weakest one other there, I will not be the weakest link. I will not be the one to hold anyone back.

The only thing I can do is just grin and bear it. Ten days to go.

Tuesday, February 7

day 10658: someone else’s super bowl story

Once upon a time…

It’s never a good thing when the first email you receive after the Super Bowl is one from a cop asking for a copy of the picture that you took with him on Super Bowl Sunday and you don’t remember giving him your email address.

It’s an even worse thing when you don’t remember which cop he was and you have to email him all the pictures you took with MANY different cops.

The end.

Apparently, I missed one hell of a tailgating party this weekend.

Friday, February 3

day 10654: friday morning quickie

VP Legal: You should buy some shares so you can voice a motion at the AGM.

Schmassion: You should pay me more so I can afford to buy some shares.

Tuesday, January 31

day 10651: sometimes there is no tomorrow

A woman died today.

She wasn’t young. She wasn’t old. She wasn’t exceptional by any means. She never led a country. She never made a major contribution to society. No one will remember her for doing anything extraordinary. And except for the people who knew her, and a few plaques bearing her name in some remote school in some remote part of China, no one will remember her in a few years.

Her existence will begin to fade as soon as the last mourner walks away.

… … …

Yet, it feels like the news should be shouted from rooftops and plastered in headlines around the world.

A woman died today.

A good woman died today.

The world should know.

She was a mother, a wife, a friend to many, a person who cared about the well-being and feelings of everyone around her. She raised money for her charities, answering pledge calls even as she sat in emergency room after emergency room, waiting for her own pains to be diagnosed.

She bore her illness in stoic silence; never really saying a word about her suffering, never really asking for help. She hid the extent of her cancer from the world around her. She downplayed her illness, consoled others, hid her fears behind a smile and passed on stories of hope. Her children came and left after the holidays thinking that she was on the mend. Her husband only flew into town from Hong Kong last week. Her elderly mother still does not know.

She fought the battle courageously, but lost it quickly.

… … …

We like to believe that we are immortal. We like to believe that the people around us are immortal. We don’t pay enough attention to the present, thinking that we’ll always have time later to make amends and tell them that we love them. There will always be a tomorrow, we think, and so, we put it off.

We put off visiting our parents. We put of thanking them for guiding us into who we have become. We put off telling our grandparents how much we care about them. We put off telling people that we forgive them, and that we don’t really harbour a grudge. We put off caring about the people around us. We put off caring about ourselves.

There will always be a tomorrow, we tell ourselves.

But sometimes there isn’t.

… … …

She will be missed.

Sunday, January 29

day 10649: when angels cry

What can you say when a doctor tells you that the best thing to do is to call your kids and tell them to get on the first flight home?

If you even believe in a higher power, please pray for peace.

Thank you.

Friday, January 27

day 10647: (not) geek accountant geek accountant geek accountant geek accountant

Last night, we went to see The Matador. The movie itself… meh… it was good for entertainment value with some nice one-liners, but that’s pretty much about it. A smarmy Pierce is really not so good for eye candy.

When I watch a movie, I pay attention to what they’re drinking. (Alcoholic that I am.*) Thus, little details really grab me… like the bottle of Makers Mark on the bedside table in the first scene, or the night they got drunk on Bushmills, or the two-fours of Corona at the bullfights, the Corona flags at the racetrack or the Corona they’re constantly drinking the entire time they’re in Mexico… and then I can’t help but wonder how much Fortune Brands, Constellation, and damned-if-I-remember-who-got-Bushmills-out-of-the-damned-takeover paid for the product placement.

Really, what they did with the alcohol was almost as bad as the Target logos blatantly plastered all over everything in Josie and the Pussycats.**


*I SWEAR, this, by no means, has ANY correlation whatsoever with me being a geek accountant geek accountant geek accountant.

**See...I pay attention all the things that the studios are trying to subliminally advertise to us…