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03.29.2006  "Another Brilliant Business Idea!"
This brilliant idea was hatched over lunch with Ivan at Cactus Club in Yaletown....

We joked about our business plan of jumping on the hot trend wagon and forming a 'Bikram's Knitting' club (see entry from 02.15.2006).  Then I took it in another direction.  I envisioned a laid-back, electro-lounge type of atmosphere with DJs and fancy drinks and comfortable seating for knitters to get down and dirty with the funky tunes and their knit-1/pearl-2 routines.  I would call this hip, new, knitting establishment: Drop The Needle.

Yes.  That's the golden ticket.

03.28.2006  "A New Household Term"
"Rena Bunnies": the dust-bunnies that also contain long, tangled strands of Rena's black hair, and are often found in the Yung-Lemay household.

Example: [Robin speaking] Oh dear God!  I found a whole bunch of Rena Bunnies under the bed while I was cleaning the hardwood floors!

03.27.2006  "Privileged"
I went to the Cesaria Evora concert last night at the Orpheum with Farshad.  As expected, she was magnificent and charming. I felt like I was being serenaded by a gentle, warm grandmother who had a voice like chocolate velvet.  Every note was perfect and effortless, and she was the picture of defiant relaxation with her weight rested on one broad hip and her bare feet hidden in the small, shag rug that was her spotlight.  The crowd went wild (in a positive way) when Ms. Evora took a pause about halfway through her performance and sat down in a chair in the middle of the stage and promptly lit up a cigarette (note we were told repeatedly by the ticket-takers that there was no intermission).  Her band continued to play while she sat gazing off to the side of the stage, enjoying her smoke break in apparent solitude (while 10,000 eyes stared at her profile).

Afterwards Farshad and I went to Subeez where we enjoyed tea with honey, pear and blue cheese quesadillas, and braised ribs (simmered in cocoa-Guinness-espresso sauce).  I suddenly felt so privileged - that's the best way I can describe it.  I just felt so fortunate to be able to afford the tickets ($120 for 2 of us - it was Farshad's birthday recently), to afford the time (it was Sunday evening but I was able to go out from 6pm to midnight and still squeeze in a good sleep for Monday morning), and to experience this wonderful performer in the glamour of the Orpheum theatre (even with its worn carpets and dated celebrity photographs, one feels a sense of grandeur amidst the sculpted archways and twinkling chandeliers).

Yes.  It's good to stop and smell the roses and appreciate what is within your reach and enjoy it to its fullest extent.

03.26.2006  "Yes, That Makes Me Feel Old"
I was entering Blenz coffee shop in Yaletown, and just as I released the door behind me I realized a man was facing me, exiting the establishment.  So I reached behind me and stopped the door from closing, essentially holding it for this person.  As I looked up, I suddenly recognized him as one of our high-profile Canucks players.  He passed behind me, took the door from my hand, and I heard him say in a low voice, "Thanks very much - ma'am."

Ooooh.  Yeah, that made me feel a little old....

03.23.2006  "Does That Make Me Mrs. Muscles?"
I recently gave my website address to my mother since I realized I have many photos posted that she's never seen (I haven't printed up pictures at a photo-lab for the last couple of years).  In particular I wanted her to see my recent Mexico photos. Now, you have to understand that my mother is not exactly computer-friendly.  But she does have access to the internet at her office - she just needs to get some assistance from one of her co-workers. 

So, picture this - my mother and a co-worker at a computer, perusing my photo gallery.  But this soon attracts the attention of other co-workers (people who have known me for decades) and suddenly you have a crowd of 5-6 women, ranging from their 40s to 60s, all staring at the monitor.  Well, they stumbled across this picture of Robin.  Now, I think my mother's description might be embellished a bit, but here goes - Apparently, one of the women clasped her throat dramatically and sighed, "Oh my goodness!  Be still my beating heart!"  And now he's been nicknamed "Mr. Muscles" around my mom's office.

You can imagine what it has been like at our household recently.  "Pumpkin" and "Baby" have been replaced by the new nickname du jour.  Yes, and I think "Mr. Muscles" is loving his new pet name.

03.21.2006  "Office Visitation Rights"
I thought this was quite precious....

I came into work this week and noticed a large, stuffed animal (sheep dog) hanging out on one of the chairs of the QA lab (I'd say it's almost life-sized).  I needed to know what it was doing there (I wasn't irritated or inconvenienced - just genuinely curious).  Our QA Manager told me that he had given it to his wife as a present but she was allergic to it.  He had to get it out of the house, but his young daughter was very upset to see it go.  So, as a compromise, he said he would bring it to work and his daughter could come to the office occasionally and visit it (they live about 3 blocks away).  Oh - so sweet!

And speaking of children in the workplace: we had a presentation at work and partway through I noticed there was a young child sitting quietly under one of the tables.  It turns out she had to come to work with dad (one of our Developers) because she was ill and there was no one to watch her at home.  Later on, the team indulged in a chocolate cake (courtesy of one of our Product Managers - his sister-in-law is a pastry chef in-training and needed to practice her icing techniques).  I noticed that the visiting little girl was polite and gracious when given a piece - not grabby or 'sugar-rushed' or demanding.

Gee - stuffed animals, pleasant children, free cake.  My workplace ain't too bad....

03.20.2006  "Trend-Setter"
When I told Ivan that Robin and I had done origami on Saturday, his response was that the two of us always had a fresh rotation of hobbies.  Since I joked that I was the epitome of cool and the trend-setting elite, I told him that I plan to start "Bikram's Origami" as soon as I figure out how to prevent the paper from wilting under the intense humidity.  Then I told him Robin and I might get into competitive origami, perhaps like an "Iron Origami"-type competition (yes, each time the secret ingredient would be.... PAPER!!!).

And speaking of trendsetting - we went for brunch at Locus on Main Street on Sunday (so good!) then perused the funky, independent designer clothing boutiques.  Once again I was inspired by the asymmetrical designs and innovative use of scissors and fabric shapes.  So I promptly went home, found a plain t-shirt that I don't really wear, and hand-stitched a small, free-form cut fabric swatch on the lower left corner.  It actually turned out ok (not like previous failed attempts - who knew I needed to keep the material lying flat while I sewed?) and I think I'll add more to it this week. Who would have thought - me, designing and adorning my own clothes?

Let's just hope the shirt doesn't end up looking as misshapen and poorly-constructed as my sad, sorry-excuse for an origami elephant.....

03.16.2006  "Conversation Snippets From a Typical Wednesday Evening"
Outtake #1 from last night's gathering with the boys - Date Lingo:

>B: Oh yeah - everyone knows that suggesting to your date that you want to 'go home and watch a movie' is a cue for sex.  It's an invitation to bang....

>R: Really?  I did not know that.  I'll have to remember that for the next time I go out on a date.

>B: [laughs] Right.  Like that's going to happen anytime soon.

Outtake #2 from last night's gathering with the boys - He's Dating What?:

>P: It's all over the entertainment news.  Ryan Seacrest is dating Teri Hatcher.

>S: [scoffs] Whatever.  He's so gay.  He's dating her ass.  That's what he's dating.

03.15.2006  "Quote of the Day Part 2: Moving"
This is a quote via Yahoo! Messenger from Brian:

>I just wanted to tell you how wonderful your blog entry about the death of someone you grew up with was.  Take it from me: I know writing.  That was particularly well written and very moving.

I'm really glad that I was able to affect others with my tribute to Greg. Communicating your thoughts through words is challenging enough, never mind trying to explain complex emotional maps that are wrapped up in your memory network.  Even though death can be a sensitive topic, it was something that I needed to say and write about, and I really appreciate the positive reception.

03.13.2006  "I Should Have...."
There was a funeral last week that I did not attend.  Looking back, I should have gone.  I don't want to make excuses but this was my thinking: I had not seen the person in about 5 years or more, the timing conflicted with a customer conference call, plus my mother was going to attend on our family's behalf.  But now that I review the situation, it's shocking how wrong my reasoning was.  I should have gone.

Greg was killed recently in a traffic accident.  He was doing something many people do every day.  We drive.  But occasionally horrible things happen on the road and we read about lost loved ones in the headline news.  I heard the news on my phone, a message left on my voicemail by my mother.  She was straight and to the point.  But I could tell she was upset.  It hit me pretty hard. As I listened to the sad message, the warm feeling from the sunny Sunday quickly melted away.  How life has changed for that one family, a family that I knew since I was able to have a conscious memory, a family that I watched grow and change as my family grew and changed....

My memories of Greg and the other cul-de-sac childhood neighbours are hazy, but some images are still crystal clear.  Greg helped teach me to tie my shoe and blow a gum bubble.  He was bold and loud (but I admired his confidence) and he had a distinctive laugh, kind of like sandpaper?  The kids on the street used to play kick-the-can sometimes during the summer evenings, and I'll never forget when Greg discovered my almost-foolproof hiding spot.

I remember going to Whitecaps soccer games with his family since they got free tickets (their Dad sang the opening national anthem).  As Greg got older, it became apparent that he inherited his Dad's pipes.  I used to hear him singing loudly from 2 door's down - it was nice.  Even though he was younger than me (just by one year), he used to call me 'Sweetheart' or 'Doll' as a teenager.  These were affectionate terms, endearing ones, that he learned from his father and now called all familiar females by these friendly titles (even my mother!).

But kids grow up and high school became a distant memory as we all pursued different paths (attending university, opening a restaurant, etc) and we moved away from the suburbs.  Even though I didn't see the 'kick-the-can' gang on a regular basis, I always got updates from my mother on everyone's situation.  And often when I would go home to visit my mother in North Vancouver, I would see that Greg or others were also visiting their folks who still lived on the street.  A hand-wave or a quick "Hey, how's it going!" were always common as you drove by.  The last time I saw Greg was from my mother's kitchen window at the old house - he was with his father and they were out walking with Greg's new baby boy.

I haven't been back to Birney Place since my mother sold her house.  But the people and the memories will always be there.  Or so I thought.  When I heard Greg was no longer with us, suddenly my past and everything I've built on top of it seemed so unstable and fleeting.

My mother told me that when she went to the prayer reading for the funeral, she was greeted warmly by the surviving brother Mark.  He grabbed her and hugged her (it had been about 3 years since they last saw each other?).  Mark told her he remembered how he used to follow her with his little Fisher-Price lawn mower when she was mowing her lawn.  She was shocked and touched that he would remember such a detail (he would have been all of 5 years old).  His response: "Of course I remember...."

I know what my mother was talking about.  I have certain key memories (of my childhood, of whatever) but I never fully expect others to remember things as well.  I don't know why?  But the point is, I'm extremely touched and flattered when I realize that I'm a positive part of other people's memory banks.

I'm sorry I didn't go to the funeral, Greg.  But for what it's worth, I have some very treasured memories of growing up in suburbia, and you're a significant part of it.  And maybe you remember some of those good times too, and perhaps I exist as a smiling Polaroid image somewhere in your mind as well....

03.12.2006  "Mexico Redux and A New Term"
I've added new pictures to my photo gallery for our Mexico 2006 trip (check it out here).

Anyway.  While Trevor was at our place on Saturday evening downloading his digital pictures to our computer, I learned a new term:

"Fart Sack" - another name for the bed.
Example: I sure am tired.  I think I might just retire to the fart sack and call it a night....

Genius.  I love it!

03.10.2006  "Do They Not See the Signs?  Stop Talking Already!"
I might have written something similar in a previous entry, but what the heck - I feel like ranting a bit today.

Yesterday I went to the spa and had a wonderful mini-facial and make-up touch-up for $45.  A great experience in general.  But while I was waiting for my turn (and for Farshad) I couldn't help but overhear a conversation behind me between a client (an older gentleman, maybe in his 50s) and a young, female esthetician.  The conversation wasn't intrusive and didn't disturb me while I sipped my cranberry-infused water and read the newspaper.  No, it was the conversation structure and the fact that it was more like a lecture than a 2-way interaction.

So, here you've got the client who right away is at a bit of a conversational advantage because he has the esthetician's undivided attention.  Somehow the topic of intelligent design came up.  Well, this 'intellectual' then felt the need to talk for 10 minutes about creationism, the power of the church, George Bush, scientific theories and proof, and whatever else (I was trying to tune him out and would only catch snippets of his lecture).  Anyway, when I say he talked, that's what he did - talk.  Non-stop.  He wouldn't even let the poor woman who was soaking his hands get a word in edgewise.  He would only interrupt himself to tell her "Let me finish."

I stole a quick glance over my shoulder to see their body language.  But I already knew what I would see: client (aka bloated windbag, boring talker guy) looking intently at his 'listener' and using animated hand gestures (because obviously he's so excited to be talking about some of his favourite topics and able to show off his wide breadth of knowledge of the world) and the esthetician with that glazed-over look (and you know she's thinking of something else, perhaps 'How the hell do I get out of this situation?') and nodding abruptly (since she's been scolded for trying to verbally interact with him).

How do these self-absorbed, conversation-monopolizers not see the signs that they are being tedious and socially selfish?  Here's a rule: unless you're a professor doing a classroom lecture, if you've spoken non-stop for more than 3 minutes AND you insist that the other person (now a listener at this point) not interrupt you, then chances are you're hogging the conversation and you're probably boring.  Also look for those other signs from the recipients - do their eyes have that glazed over look, are they avoiding eye contact and looking to other parts of the room, are they just interjecting with the occasional 'yes' or head nod without really paying attention to what you're actually saying?

Anyway.  Normally I'd be irritated from witnessing this all.  But I was at a spa afterall, I was there to relax.  For the record, I did contemplate saying something to the guy about his poor social behaviour.  But then I figured the esthetician was capable of handling her own situation.  I figured if she really wanted, she could find endless excuses ("Ooops, sorry but I have to go grab some more towels.")

When I finally was in my own treatment room with my own esthetician doing my facial, I made a reference to 'the guy who was talking a lot.'  Her response: "Oh yes, he's a regular client and he talks a lot.  But we ensure we all take turns with him."

What a bunch of smart cookies.  They are able to keep this guy as a regular client by sharing the pain amongst themselves .  Kudos to them.

03.08.2006  "Our Own Poltergeist Kitty Who Likes TV?"
We had a very freaky experience last night.  Well, I thought it was disturbing - Robin didn't really seem to care.  We both awoke last night around 4am to a rather loud conversation.  Initially I thought it was the tenants having a discussion right outside our bedroom window.  But after a few seconds, I realized the conversation was too clear and scripted.  Robin got up and went to the living room.  When he returned, he told me that the TV had magically turned on.

In my sleepy haze, I suggested that maybe it was Bud's ghost and his little afterworld paw had stepped on the TV remote.  Robin told me to 'go back to sleep.'  This morning I reviewed our TV options, looking for some kind of auto-start feature.  No such thing.  Hmmmm.

Let's see if it happens again tonight.

03.07.2006  "Quote of the Day Part 1: What a Handsome Couple!"
This is a new thing I'm starting, the 'Quote of the Day'.  Anyway, the first installment is from Marie (on MSN) after she saw a picture for the first time of me with Robin:

>you and Robin are going to make very nice looking offspring!

Smiles.

03.06.2006  "Mexico 2006 Revisited"
It's always a surreal feeling, starting with the packing and endless checking and re-checking of details (don't forget our passports, where are the tickets, I wonder if two bottles of sunscreen are enough, etc).  Then there's the airport, which is its own bizarre universe.  I'm not a fan of plane rides, so the trip down is not exactly enjoyable.  But then there's the moment when you step off the plane and you immediately know you're in a different country.  Temperature, language, signs, people - it's all different. And it's exciting and a welcome change from your day-to-day life, especially when you realize your vacation has officially started.

How easy it was, to go from our regular, 9-5 routines to a week of relaxation and adventure.  Things looked rosy from the get-go, when they upgraded us to a 2-bedroom villa at the sister resort which was far from the maddening main building (it was Canadian spring break - Bust Loose kids were everywhere).  Our room had a giant sliding door that opened to a large patio that faced a swimming pool, and just past that was the ocean.  The weather was perfect and the greenery was scenic and lush - why can't we grow such fantastic palm trees in Vancouver?

Highlights included catching a bus to Sayulita, a small town about 45 minutes outside Puerto Vallarta.  There we took surfing lessons from Patricio, the number 2 long-boarder in Mexico.  The waves were not huge, but challenging nonetheless.  When I actually stood up after my third attempt and found myself riding a wave into shore, I was ecstatic.  We were in the water for 2 hours - I don't think my smile left my face until I went to bed that evening.

We also managed to explore downtown Puerto Vallarta a couple of times (Trevor and I had been there before in 2002).  The food and drinks were cheap and good (those margaritas and massive!) and we made some indulgent purchases (and I think Trevor's 2-carat diamond ring takes the cake here).  I also immensely enjoyed just hanging out by the pool while Isabel (our waitress) brought us endless blended drinks while we worked on our tans.  There were also spa services so we all signed-up for massages with Raymundo (who was a welcome vision all in white, and we loved the way he just floated and glided around the grounds).  The massage table was setup right on the beach - the epitome of relaxation. We also took advantage of the multiple pools that were at our resort.  Each of them had swim-up bars - how decadent.  We went out to the clubs for Brent's birthday, but my favourite night was when we all stayed in and played cards on our deck with the sounds of the ocean in the background.  Beautiful and peaceful.

So, now it's over.  But what fond memories of an incredible group vacation in a tropical environment.  We're already talking about next year's trip....

You can check out my pictures here.  Note that I'll be adding more as I get downloads from Robin's and Trevor's cameras.

02.17.2006  "Best Little Diner in Yaletown"
Yesterday Brian and I checked out the new diner in Yaletown.  It's a little hidden, down by Drake on Hamilton.  And there's also minimal signage, just a neon 'Diner' sign on the front door.  I found it by accident (when I went to LK for Dine Out Vancouver recently) and I also read an article about it in the Georgia Straight.

Anyway.  We specifically went because I read that they serve meatloaf sandwiches.  And since the Yaletown Brew Pub discontinued theirs, we had a craving.  What a great place!  No pretentions, no attitude, no Paris Hilton look-alikes with their miniature pets.  Just friendly service, a menu written on mirrors with lipstick, good prices, and Joan Jett playing on the speakers.  And what a delicious meal - better than the overpriced dishes at YBP.

Ch-Check it out!

02.15.2006  "Contemplating Hooky from Work for Ivan and Trevor"
I met Ivan for lunch yesterday, and Trevor joined us after his hair appointment for a 'surprise' caramel capucchino.  It's been awhile since the three of us spent quality time together, and as usual it was a good chemistry and our table was full of self-deprecating jokes and gentle mocking.

We determined that knitting was the new yoga (and we highly anticipate that Vancouver will see a rash of 'Bikram's Knitting' classes) and we speculated on the lifespan of two heart-shaped, birds-nest cookies as a locket (assuming you don't shower with it).  And of course Trevor reminded me that I should be careful when ingesting cookies in the shower because they might actually be bath balms!

Anyway.  As I sat in Milestones in Yaletown with the bright afternoon sun at our backs and my wonderful, hilarious, heart-warming friends just an arms-length away, I didn't want to go back to work.  I actually contemplated playing hooky from work!  I could have stayed there all afternoon and laughed the time away.

02.14.2006  "I Choo-Choo Choose You!"
I don't like Valentine's Day.  I think it's an over-commercialized, silly holiday.  And unfortunately many people (single and also those in a relationship) experience unnecessary pangs of anxiety around this time of year (for various reasons that I won't go into).

I'm in a happy, satisfying relationship but we refuse to do anything 'special' (well, face it - any time spent with Rena or Robin is special  ;-) or invest a great deal of effort into acknowledging this Hallmark holiday.  Staying home and spending quality time with my wonderful partner on February 14th in a relaxed, comfortable environment suits me just fine (I normally lay low on Tuesday evenings anyway).

So.  That said - *IF* there was a time to express my love for Robin, I guess today would be as good a day as any.  For those who wish to read more on that topic, please go here.  I promise it's not sappy or syrupy....

02.13.2006  "I'm Feeding Something...."
The food in the dish that I leave on the porch (see the entry directly below) mysteriously disappears and I need to refill it every day.  But it's not Bud, because he leaves many black hairs in the bowl.  Now the bowl is just empty (no trace at all) after whoever or whatever has eaten the cat treats.  Maybe it's a raccoon, or someone else's kitty who's found the jackpot.

Robin asked how long I'm going to keep doing this (i.e. leaving food out).  I don't know.  I've already come to terms with Bud's disappearance (and assumed demise) but it's kind of comforting in a bizarre way that I'm providing a little bit of joy to some other creature.  I'll probably just keep doing it until the cat food runs out.

02.09.2006  "I've Left Food and Water Out, Just in Case"
Speaking with Sheldon yesterday made me feel somewhat better.  He told us of Kitty (his old, warrior tom cat who has since passed).  When Kitty was 15 he got FIV (feline HIV).  He promptly left the house in North Vancouver and disappeared for one week.  Just as the family was ready to give up hope, Kitty appeared back in the house (via the cat-door) - looking mangy and scruffy and 3 pounds lighter.  He went on to live another three years.  The theory is that Kitty knew he was sick and left to die (as most cats do).  But he still had some life in him, so he returned home.

I'd like to be optimistic about Bud; however, he is 18 years old (ancient compared to a 15 year-old) and can't afford to lose any weight.  But, just in case, I've left a dish of crunchies and a bowl of water on the back porch.  Just in case he decides to come home when we're not there.

02.08.2006  "Bud, Why Don't You Come Home???"
Yesterday started out like any other day.  I woke up, did my yoga, noticed that Bud the cat wasn't in the house (so he must have been enjoying the fresh morning air), then took my shower.  Halfway through, the hot water cut out.  I silently cursed the downstairs tenants under my breath, assuming that all 5 of them must have already had their hot showers and they were now on their third load of laundry.

But then while I was fixing my breakfast, Robin showed up.  He had received a call from the tenants on his cell phone because the hot water tank wasn't working properly.  Hmmmm.  Now it was a not-so-normal day.  For the next hour it was a bit chaotic at home: people slamming doors, running up and down stairs, testing pipes, finding installation manuals, making phone calls, etc. And still no sign of Bud, who is usually howling by now to be let back inside the house. 

When I left the house, Robin was still there.  We agreed that he'd leave a set of keys with the tenants and they could let Bud in once he came back.  Call it a mother's intuition, but something just didn't feel right - Bud is always waiting at the doorstep to be let in before I go to work.

I knew something was seriously amiss when I got a phone call at work from Robin.  He was back at the house around 1pm and still no Bud.  But I pushed the horrible thoughts to the back of my mind and said, "Oh, he'll show up.  And he'll probably make so much racket that the neighbours will be pissed off."

Since Robin was doing a service call downtown, he gave me a lift home.  I got to the house first because Robin was dropping Steve off.  As I approached the front door, I somehow knew - Bud wasn't there.  And this was confirmed when I opened the front door and saw his empty chair and heard the silence.  I called the SPCA in Burnaby but they were closed, so we would have to wait until 9am the next morning.  I had images of Bud confused and lonely in one of their cages.  While I made dinner, Robin went around armed with a flashlight and searched yards and canvassed the neighbours.  No one had heard or seen anything.  One neighbour warned us of coyotes in the area.  But I remained optimistic.  Or perhaps it was denial.

Robin and I went out one last time together after dinner, with umbrellas and more flashlights.  We shivered under our ski jackets, and shuddered at the thought of Bud cold and wet and lost.  He is 18 years old and prone to seizures, so we speculated that he might have had one and then become disoriented and wandered far from home.  So we walked along a large perimeter around the house.  Nothing.

We were able to fall asleep okay.  But we both had dreams about finding Bud alive.  I vividly remember seeing his soft, black body and being so happy as I scooped him up.  I woke up to see the backyard light on (which is on motion-detection).  I leapt out of bed half asleep, only to see it was our neighbour warming up his car.  It was now almost 24 hours since we last saw Bud.  I wasn't as optimistic as I was before, especially after calling the SPCA and getting no news on found black kitties in the Burnaby area.

If it was confirmed that he was sick and climbed under a bush and quietly passed away, then I'd be at peace with that.  But not knowing where he is, if he's alive or dead, or how he met his demise (if that's indeed the case and whether or not he suffered) - well, it's pure hell.  I keep checking the front and back doors, expecting to see that familiar, small, black shape through the tempered glass.  I keep expecting to hear that crazy, loud goat-trill noise that he makes. And I would be delirious with joy, not wound up with agitation and frustration at the sound of his demanding voice.  What I wouldn't give to scoop him up again and feel his body go all noodle-cat in my arms and hear his purring motor.

Oh Bud.  Why don't you just come home?

02.07.2006  "I Love New York (and Other Cities Do NOT Make Me Feel Like a Dork)"
Yesterday my co-worker Tom (you can see him here dressed as Mr. Clean for Halloween) brought me an 'I Love (Heart) NY' t-shirt from his business trip.  It's been 6 years, but I finally have one!

I went to New York in 2000 with Farshad for Ashley and Brendon's wedding.  It was only for 6 days or so, but it was the most amazing time.  I would see the 'I Love NY' t-shirts everywhere (literally on every street corner in every souvenir shop) and I kept meaning to pick one up.  But since we were going a million miles an hour and completely sleep-deprived, it kept slipping my mind.  When I arrived home, I couldn't believe that I had forgotten to grab one.

When Farshad returned to New York on his own in 2002, I asked him to get me one.  He did, but then he lost it (probably in his monster pile of laundry that overtook his bedroom).  It became a running joke between us:  "Where's my NY t-shirt?" I would mock him.  "Oh, I think it was eaten by my other clothes," he'd answer and we'd laugh.

And that brings us to today.  When I scheduled Tom to go to New York to visit a client for some training, I asked him to bring me back a shirt.  And he did.  And now I finally have one.

I can hardly wait to wear it and remember partying in Tribeca, venturing through SoHo, falling asleep in Central Park, stumbling upon Wigstock in the meat-packing district, taking a limo to New Jersey, and of course hauling a futon mattress with Farshad through the subway system and cursing and laughing our asses off the entire way....

02.02.2006  "Appealing to My Inner Girl"
I'd like to think I'm a woman of substance who knows where I'm at in this world.  I have a good head on my shoulders and I'm confident of my abilities and aware of my limitations.  I also know I'm not a beauty queen (well, maybe just in Robin's eyes ;-) but I know I'm not ugly.  What am I getting at here?  Brains vs. Beauty.  I have both (to a degree), but I like to think I value the former way more than the latter.

Note to self: the world doesn't really work like that.

I'd like to think that I'm deeply flattered when someone praises my performance at work or tells me "Good idea, Rena!" or "Hey, I like your thinking!" or any other positive comment about my grey matter.  Don't get me wrong - I am flattered.  However, if you really want to make me smile, all you have to do is appeal to my inner girl.

What am I talking about here?  I'm talking about my reaction to people when they praise me on my personal appearance.  When our new VP (an older, established woman with very expensive tastes) tells me, "That's a gorgeous coat.  I like how it matches your bag.  What a great ensemble," I can feel myself beam (more so, than when she tells me, "Good work on that project plan!").  Recently, a co-worker (a man who isn't really one to gush on personal appearances) told me that I looked 'trimmer.'  Wow.  I wasn't expecting that one.  As a result, the bounce-in-my-step feeling lasted all day.  And of course how can I stay mad at Robin when he pets my head and says, "Such a pretty girl!  You're so pretty!  Don't think you can get through in life just by your looks!  Oh, such nice, pretty hair!"

Yes, disgusting isn't it?  And you'd think a woman who went through university on full scholarship should know better....

02.01.2006  "Icy Diet Goodness"
Why doesn't 7-Eleven offer diet slurpees (like Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi)?  I noticed last summer that they offered a Crystal Light slurpee but it was nasty.

01.31.2006  "New Words and Terms I Learned Recently"
"Mushroom Cap" - those bulges of fat/flesh that protrude over the waistband of pants.  Another term for 'love handles'.
Example: I have to do some more stomach crunches if I want to get rid of these mushroom caps before my trip to Mexico.

"Zaftig" - full-bosomed, or having a full, shapely figure.
Example: Jennifer Coolidge has some serious curves and ass.  I love her zaftig figure.

"Radio Shack" - slang for an uptight, techno-dweeb.
Example: Hey, Radio Shack - why don't you do us a favour and stick to debugging your code instead of lecturing us on the benefits of Linux?

01.30.2006  "Framed Photos of Spouses"
I've joined the leagues of office workers who have framed pictures of their spouses/partners in their work area.  Yes, I decided that I wouldn't mind staring at my pretty beau while at work.  So far, it's made my work environment more pleasant.

01.27.2006  "Receptionists Beware, But Seniors Rejoice!  Hello Kitty Robo is Here!"
A company in Japan is offering two new Hello Kitty Robots: one for the office and another for nursing homes.  Yes, instead of a human to greet you at the door/lobby and engage in small talk, you can have a Hello Kitty 'Receptionist' Robo (for a lower cost too).  And in an effort to diminish the onset of senility, you can rent a Hello Kitty 'Caregiver' Robo for a seniors' nursing home. This model quizzes its audience and keeps the mind engaged.

As technology creeps deeper into our everyday lives, I can't help but think of the inevitable 'rise of the machines' (think  of the "Terminator" trilogy).  But who knew our enemies would be so round and cuddly with bows in their hair?

01.26.2006  "Someone to Rub My Belly in the Middle of the Night"
Last night at 3am I woke up with a somewhat upset stomach (probably due to the fabulous yet rich dinner I had at the Kingston).  I was tossing and turning because it was a bit difficult to fall back asleep.  Robin woke up and I told him what was wrong.  Without having to ask him, he reached over and started gently rubbing my unhappy belly.  It felt so nice and I ended up being soothed back to sleep. 

Yes, another description for "Love is...."

01.25.2006  "Glitter Attack"
I received a lovely bottle of Cranberry-glitter hand lotion from Mark over the holidays.  I wear it religiously every day, and I enjoy looking at my hands and seeing the tiny sparkles on my skin.  However, it seems that everything I touch on a daily basis that is dark-coloured now has glitter on it.  Like my laptop. And my black jacket that I wear to work.  It kind of looks like Disco-dandruff is everywhere.  Hilarious.

01.24.2006  "Defending My Vote"
I am never enthusiastic to debate politics, but I think I can make one entry on the recent federal election.  Here goes:

Last night Canada voted in a new (minority) government.  To be honest, I wasn't pleased.  I'm not a Conservative person.  In fact, I voted Liberal and then witnessed the NDP candidate emerge victorious in my local riding.  Oh well.  I'll try to be positive and embrace the change.

"How on earth could you still support the Liberals, after all the sponsorship scandals?" some might ask.  Since I'm not eager to discuss and compare political views, here's my take on it: it's the same as the leaky condo logic.  For you non-Vancouverites, our beautiful city is plagued by many leaky condominium buildings that were built according to specifications from other cities i.e. places that don't receive as much rainfall as us fortunate West coasters.  As a result, many of these buildings leak after a couple of years of succumbing to record-breaking precipitation.  Many real estate enthusiasts and building contractors encourage people to actually purchase suites in buildings that have already leaked and have already been fixed (and guaranteed).

And herein lies my logic: if you identify the problems and fix them (or work towards fixing them), you're safer to continue this way then to try something totally different, because who knows what new and devastating problems you'll unearth then?

If you're not happy with my response, then I have to pull out the big guns.  Yes, I'm going to quote Trey Parker and Matt Stone from their "New Mascot" episode of "South Park."  An adult explains voting strategies to young Stan:

"Nearly every election since the beginning of time has been between some douche and some turd. They're the only people who suck up enough to make it that far in politics."

Yep.  Trey and Matt know what they're talking about.

01.23.2006  "Rah-Rah Rena!"
Poor Robin.  He's tired of the 'Rah-Rah Rena!' campaign that is endorsed by my mother as well as his own family.

To explain further: my mother is my biggest fan.  She loves me as a daughter, but she also respects and admires me as a human being and has the utmost confidence in any of my life decisions. And she's made sure to tell me this throughout my life.  Recently the three of us were out for lunch and Robin mentioned something to the effect that he must have done something right because life just seems to have worked so well in his favour.  My mother's reaction: pointing in my direction (big smiling grin on her face).  Yes, she truly believes that her wonderful, financially and emotionally stable daughter has spread sunshine and good luck into Robin's (previously-miserable) life.  Whether or not that's actually true, she believes that.

And recently at Christmas Eve dinner, we were at Robin's parents' house for dinner.  After about 5 bottles of wine, things were pretty chatty and comfortable.  I had to admit I felt a bit overwhelmed when I found myself the focus of their overly positive comments: Grandma telling me how pretty I was and how well-dressed I always am.  Mom raising her wine glass to her mouth and saying "Mmm-hmmm!" in agreement.  Dad reaching across the table to pat my arm and whisper, "You've been great for Robin."  Even if it was alcohol-induced, I was flattered.  And Robin was in the bathroom at the time, so I had to relay the conversations to him afterwards in the car ride home (of course).

Anyway.  I know Robin loves and adores me, but he's had enough of this enthusiastic pro-Rena attitude that surrounds him ("Hey, what about me?" he complains with mock exasperation).  But then I remind him that I am HIS biggest fan.

And that carries some pretty serious weight.

01.20.2006  "C.L.I.C. Diet"
After a few visits and calls to travel agents and many hours of web searching, we were finally able to book a trip to Mexico!  Who knew that coordinating multiple work schedules, budget limits and personal preferences would be so difficult? Yes, soon the four of us (Trevor, Brent, Robin and myself) will be running barefoot and free on the sand under the hot sun.

Our initial response to the booking: "Fantastic, we can't wait!....Ohhhh, and now it's time to get in shape."  Yes, bathing suit season arrives early this year.  We joked that we're all going to start the Cocaine-Laxative-Ice Cube diet.  But in reality, we're going to hit the gym (Robin), increase the Dance-Dance Revolution activities (Brent), eat better (Rena) and not eat at all (Trevor).

In the end, it's going to be great.

01.17.2006  "Company Funded Toilet Paper"
When I worked at my last company (a large, multi-national corporation), I realized that I could get free toilet paper for my residence (if I wanted to).  The company washrooms were always well-stocked with extra rolls of toilet paper (often 2-3 individually-wrapped rolls would be in each stall, resting on the toilet tanks).  It would be so easy - I could grab one every couple of days (or as often as I wanted to) and sneak it home in my bag.  Of course I'd take the risk of someone seeing me and getting caught.

I would never seriously do it.  But the option of getting free toilet paper for my apartment was very real.

01.16.2006  "Pro-Lifers vs. the Traffic Cops"
I had one of my random, 'only-in-my-head' questions answered the other day.  I read an article about a woman who got a ticket for driving alone in a carpool lane.  Her argument was that she was pregnant at the time.  But that was thrown out in court.

I used to have visions of doing this myself (assuming I'm pregnant some day, or even creating a fake tummy in order to ride in the HOV lane - just silly daydreaming here!).  However, now I wouldn't want to take the risk.

01.13.2006  "All Over That After a Long Day at Work"
Yesterday I was in all-day training at work, and then the group was taken out to dinner by the VPs.  Overall the experience was positive - educational, team-building, etc.  However, at 8:30pm I was still in the restaurant and I felt exhausted.  It was time to go home.

The ride home was uneventful.  But as soon as I opened the front door and saw Robin lying on the couch all swaddled up in a blanket and watching TV, I realized that I was really, REALLY happy to be home.  I like my co-workers and enjoy my job on the whole - but after spending 12 hours straight in that business environment (where you still have to be 'on' and mindful of your p's and q's even at a social function), it felt so good to be 'intimate' with someone.  So I literally jumped on him and hugged him and didn't let go until we changed to our jammies and went to sleep.

Home is curled up with Robin, wrapped up in flannel, lying in bed while the rain falls outside....

01.11.2006  "Fur Tube Had a Seizure"
As I was getting ready to leave the house for work this morning (I literally had 1 more minute before I was going to walk out the door), I decided to give some more soft food to Bud (the cat - whom I affectionately refer to as "Fur Tube") .  When I tried to flick the disgusting, fishy paste from the spoon I accidentally hit the side of the bowl.

Bud is an old, ancient cat (17 years old) and is prone to seizures when startled by loud noises or sudden movements.  And this seemingly innocent noise was enough to set him off.  It was horrible.  But thank goodness I'd seen it once before and knew what to do.  I knelt beside his little, black body as it lay jerking in spasms and held his legs away from his body (so he didn't kick himself).  I also managed to cradle his head so he didn't continually bash his face against the kitchen tiles. The whole time he was leaving a clear trail of liquid from his mouth (saliva, water) that quickly created a puddle.  This all lasted for about a minute.

When it was over, Bud was disoriented and weak.  His eyes were enormous and pleading for comprehension (and all pupils).  I held him and stroked him.  After the clean-up and the consoling, I was 30 minutes late for work.  And I still felt guilty for leaving him by himself - I would have loved to stay with him the entire day.

Poor Fur Tube.  He didn't understand what happened to him. That's the really sad thing about animals - if they're in pain or discomfort, there's no way to properly explain the reasons and details of the situation.  They just know that something is bad, and they don't like it.  But hopefully a half hour of gentle petting and reassurance makes it somewhat better.

01.10.2006  "WARNING:  Here Be Spoilers!"
Since Canada airs many U.S. television series well after the original air date, I have to be careful when reading or watching any kind of entertainment news.  My first example is "Sex and the City".  Showcase in Canada was about 3 months behind the U.S.  So when the series finale was shown on HBO, we up North were just starting on the final season.  I did my best to avoid any article or segment on TV that was discussing the final outcomes of the 4 fabulous women from New York.  And I was successful due to my alertness and self-censorship (Note - I almost didn't make it.  The ending was almost prematurely spoiled by one of Marnie's e-mails but I managed to shut the window down in time before reading too much.  All was forgiven in the end  ;-)

Next case in point:  "Six Feet Under."  Now, unlike the other entertainment articles, I'm going to give you an upfront warning that there are spoilers coming up.  So, here is your **WARNING: If you have not seen "Six Feet Under" season 3 and don't want to know what happens, then do NOT read any further.**  That said:  while I was still on SFU season 2, I happened to spot a link for an article (just a blurb - not even the article itself).  The thing that caught my eye was a picture of Peter Krause.  One line - just that one line blurb - spoiled the whole season for me: "With Lisa dead, Nate is left to care for baby Maya on his own."  Who the hell is Lisa?  What baby?  Does Nate break up with Brenda?

Anyway. I have since gotten over the anger.  Now I'm on season 4, and doing my darnedest to avoid any kind of spoilers for the season 5 finale (which aired a couple of months ago in the U.S.).  But poor Brent.  His eyes happened to glimpse over an MSN article that apparently gave away the outcome of the whole show.  I'm so glad I didn't see that one.

01.09.2006  "Lazy Days"
I consider myself a pretty active individual, both socially and physically.  But yesterday, I was just feeling so darned lazy.  And I decided to roll with it and enjoy it, instead of feeling guilt-ridden at the inactivity level.  I mean I still managed to clean the house, go grocery shopping, do laundry, and help cook dinner.  But I also did some relaxing, indulgent things like work out (lift weights), do some Karaoke Revolution and Dance-Dance Revolution.

Hmmmm, okay - looking back at what I just wrote, I don't think it was a very lazy Sunday at all.  I think my perceptions of lazing about are probably different from other people's.

01.06.2006  "Where are the Freaks and Perverts?"
Back at an old company I used to work at, a co-worker (she was also a friend) and I used to always wonder who amongst our quiet, seemingly-normal co-workers was harbouring a delicious fetish or a dark, kinky side.  Since we were both familiar with the whole BDSM, kink community at the time, we weren't being judgmental or nosy.  We were merely curious.

And now more so than ever, now that I'm older and more experienced, I'm even more aware of the various creative perversions and crazy sexual indulgences that people have.  I think I can attribute this mostly to the Dan Savage article that I read every week (after reading one particularly effective letter, I am almost tempted to hide my toothbrush whenever guests come over for fear of what they might be doing with it behind closed doors).  Don't get me wrong.  I love the kink and the perversions.  It makes me feel so very vanilla (even though I'm sure some of my personal stories and experiences would raise a few eyebrows amongst the right audience). 

And I find myself today, 10 years later at another company, looking around and wondering who are the freaky folks.  But this company is quite liberal and open-minded and forward-thinking that it's not really fun to try and determine who's hiding anything.  Everyone seems so hip and cool.  Oh well.  Maybe I'm the freaky one?  Now that's a fun thought.....

01.04.2006  "It's Just a Matter of Time"
I'm not blind or oblivious, nor am I conceited.  But I do notice occasionally that I'll get second looks from guys - on the street, in stores, in restaurants, etc.  Why, it happened this morning in Yaletown outside my work.  He was a youngish (late 20s?), urban hipster with Weezer glasses, leather jacket and a casual scarf.  He was pretty cute but just a tad bit too pretentious.

After he passed (with minimal eye contact on my part - and I didn't really feel like smiling either), I had the thought:  when will this end?  No, I'm not complaining.  In fact the opposite - I think I'll miss it.  But I'm wondering *when* will it happen, when I realize that I'm not getting those second glances checking me out on the street anymore?  Will I be a mother pushing a stroller?  (Doubt it - I plan on being a yummy-mommy).  Will I be in my 40s or 50s?  Hmmmm, it's difficult to say.  But it's just a matter of time, and I'm sure it'll be a sad day for me when the reality hits me.

01.03.2006  "Resolutions"
It's a new year, yadda-yadda-yadda.  And yes, I have a new year's resolution.  No, it's not to lose 10 lbs or eat better or get more exercise.  I think I've got those departments covered.  My resolution this year is to look and dress better, specifically at work.  I've already purchased 2 new pairs of shoes and 7 new blouses/work shirts.  Look out Yaletown.