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Journal Archives (October-December 2008):
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12.26.2008 On Christmas Eve we got a call from Rick, our friend and business partner. We were talking about the weather and we mentioned our predicament (purely as a topic of conversation). He offered to pick Robin up in the morning then head to North Vancouver to pick up my mom. He knew his 4X4 could handle the slippery roads. "Family should be together during the holidays," was his reasoning. OMG, how incredibly sweet. Sure enough, in the morning, Rick called to pinpoint a time. Then like clockwork he was here. Funnily enough he has a big, white beard. He truly was Santa Claus in his all-wheel drive sleigh. They returned 45 minutes later with my mother and all her cooking gear and her overnight bag. We were reunited despite the horrible road conditions. Robin gave Rick a 6-case of beer and tried to give him some gas money but he poo-poo'd the latter gesture. "Nah, don't worry about it! Think of it as your Christmas gift. Merry Christmas," he insisted as he went down the back stairs, on his way to his own family dinner. It was the best Christmas present for sure.
12.23.2008 We had strings of white lights on our desks and we hung 3-D snowflakes made of recycled paper from the ceiling. We also decorated the potted palm tree with LED lights and some silver baubles. The windows were covered with stick-on, acrylic snowflakes and I hung a paper snowman from our coat rack. On our whiteboard I wrote holiday greetings from around the world. There was also a disco ball hanging from the middle of the ceiling and Alex was kind enough to lend us his pulsating, coloured-light flasher and fog machine (straight out of a nightclub!). When the judging commenced we played a techno version of "Jingle Bells" and had the accompanying, festive yet dizzying display on our monitors. To put it lightly, we rocked it. Everyone loved it and was impressed. We ended up winning. We got a gift certificate to Cookies By George. Man, those victory cookies are going to be so sweet. Congrats, JJ. We make an awesome team!
12.22.2008 I can't say this caused me any great concern. But I did notice in the last 2 days that she's grown somewhat attached to a hard, plastic, Playmobil camel that came in her zoo veterinarian set. At post-bath/pre-bedtime story time she insists on having her camel with her. "Camel! CAMEL!" she'll scream at us until the bony, plastic creature is tightly in her grasp. Then the other night she insisted on bringing it to bed with her. And this morning she demanded that it sit in her food-tray with her while she scarfed down her oatmeal and bagel with cream cheese (she even tried to feed her camel so I had to steal it away for a few seconds while I gave it a quick bath). She'll also wave it in my face and order me to "Kiss Camel!" right after she smooches it. It makes me laugh.
Well, there you have it. My daughter has
finally formed an attachment to something. But it's nothing
cuddly or plush. No, it's quite the opposite. I guess it
could be worse. She could fall in love with a giant, rubber
spider or something. Yeeesh! That would freak me out. Now
that I think about it, I think her camel obsession is pretty
cool.
12.19.2008 No, today's entry is about the food donation bin in the lobby of our office tower. I recently read an article on vegan food donation banks (I had never heard of such a thing but it totally makes sense) and one point they raised was that people often donate junk food and instead should think twice about what they 'toss' into the food bins. Well, I should have hung up a copy of that article on our donation bin which I walk past every day. I recently saw a bunch of Kraft Dinner boxes (no surprise there). I ate many boxes of stuff while in university and that fluorescent, orange powder still creeps me out (is it really cheese-based?). But I also saw a 4-liter jug of salsa. Although that is appropriate for a trough-party, it's not such a great source of nutrition if ingested as a meal. I also saw a jumbo pack of marshmallows. I suppose it could be used to make rice crispy squares (who doesn't love those?) but still - to see them sitting there in all their white, puffy, oil-based glory just looked slightly wrong. And although KD, salsa and Jet-Puffs are not horrible donation choices, some other items deposited in the donation bin left me significantly more horrified. On a daily basis, a piece of gum (unwrapped) or an individual mint is tossed in there. Seriously? It's disgusting. What is wrong with people? Keep your Excel gum and restaurant mints to yourself. Who are you fooling? You're not donating; you're not contributing. You're just making a mockery of the food bins. If you can't do anything nice, don't do anything at all.
12.17.2008 Totally confused I asked what was so funny. She pointed out that the majority of the labels on my keyboard had been worn down. Looking at the keys, one could not tell which key was the "Q" or "W" or "E" etc, you get the idea. "That's so cute!" she commented again. Hilarious. I never thought it would be considered adorable for typing without looking at my keyboard and never noticing the worn-out letters (and no, I'm not being sarcastic). And you should see how I operate a mouse without looking at it. It's precious. Seriously.
12.12.2008 About 10 minutes later I was admiring my reflection in my own dressing room. Yay! It only took about 5 more minutes to decide what I wanted then I was on my way. As I left the changing room I couldn't help but notice that there was now zero lineup to try things on. None whatsoever. What unfortunate timing for me. Oh well.
Then I got to the cash register.
What do I see? Yes, another line-up. This one was
about 10 people deep. Sigh. But 'tis the season I
suppose, so I stood in line again. After about 10
minutes I was wrapping up my pleasant conversation
with the outrageously flaming clerk with the
horn-rimmed glasses and Santa hat. As I grabbed my
purchases and headed towards the door I noticed the
line-up for the cash desk was now zero. No one. WTF?
Sigh. It's all in the timing, I suppose....
12.10.2008 1. Fridge Magnets: I work in a tech company and on our fridge is a set of those sentence-building word magnets. Someone had arranged the phrase "Byte my big woody." Sometimes I love working in a non-PC environment.
2. Overheard on "American Dad":
Conservative Stan Smith, when lecturing his teenage
daughter about sporting a nose piercing, proclaims
in his patriarchic, authoritative voice, "A person's
face should be metal-free, like a good radio
station!" OMG, that show has brilliant writers.
12.08.2008 We were greeted by polished staff (all-black ensembles or white shirts with black pants and ties), linen table cloths, and an elegant buffet spread. OMG, where were we? It was Salam Bombay. We were encouraged to go ahead and help ourselves to heaping, unlimited servings of rice with salad and a wide variety of curries (seafood, chicken, yam). Oh, and the naan was endless too. Service was polite and attentive and the host even made a point to tell Peter that he was lucky to be dining with 2 such lovely ladies. It was a wonderful, satisfying lunch hour indeed. When our meal was over we gazed out the 2nd-story window and enjoyed the scenery with our full bellies. Soon we'd have to go back to the dull, dreary office and leave this spicy, peaceful, need-fulfilling establishment. We looked longingly at the bright couches that sat invitingly in the lounge area and we craved to stay here all afternoon relaxing in the overstuffed furniture and sipping chai teas. Ah, we had our slice of nirvana and it was amazing while it lasted. We'll just have to go again next week!
12.04.2008 Looking back at my life, I remember moments. I remember how I felt, I remember what I perceived. I also remember my dreams. And just like memories, even though I had certain dreams years ago, the impressions they made on me are still clear as day in my mind. And the line between the two becomes blurred for me; the memories and dreams become one. I love those profound moments or nocturnal images that when I encounter them I know they will become treasured memories for years to come.... The other night I had a dream that I'll always remember. In my dream I met my mother for lunch and she told me that Brad and Liz (brother and sister-in-law) were visiting from Toronto. I looked up and sure enough they were both standing a few feet away. Overcome with emotion in the dream (even though I know I wouldn't be so emotional in real-life) I hugged my brother tightly then insisted my sister-in-law join us in the family sibling hug. My brother leaned in and whispered in my ear, "You could do better...." The words of advice seemed so out-of-place coming from a sibling whom I normally only talk to about 'surface stuff.' But I knew what he meant. He wasn't judging my choice of lifestyle, or choice of spouse, or any of my other recent decisions. No, he was speaking to my current state of mind. I've been quite negative lately and dwelling on the downside of things rather than the upside. And hearing those words from my big brother who has always silently applauded my successes and ability to seek the positives in life, I was suddenly a broken dam of emotions. In my dream I sobbed and cried while he and Liz held me tight. I woke up thinking I must have been crying in my sleep and I was surprised to find that my pillow was dry. But the tears felt more than real. And the other day I had one of those moments that will be imprinted on me forever. Robin, Sloane and I found ourselves at a mall in North Vancouver on a Sunday afternoon. I phoned my mother on the chance that she was at home (she lives 2 blocks away) but I got her answering machine. As we exited the toy store, who should walk by - my mother. Well, everyone was overjoyed. A spontaneous visit! How rare these days? We decided to grab a quick, impromptu meal at the sushi restaurant. When we went our separate ways, we left to go to the parking lot and my mom stayed at the mall to do some shopping. As Robin, Sloane and I walked towards the sliding glass doors I looked back and saw my mother standing there in front of Winners, smiling and periodically waving at us. She looked perfectly content and we had just had a wonderful visit but suddenly I felt very lonely (for lack of better words). It just felt so wrong to be leaving my mother behind even though I know she cherishes her independence. I felt like she should be leaving the mall and coming home with us; we shouldn't be leaving her there to stand by herself. It just didn't feel right. And the other thought I had was: one day she won't be around. I kept looking over my shoulder to check that she was still there, and sure enough she stood waiting for us to exit before she went on her own way. But I almost expected her to fade away into the background, to disappear unnoticed while the other shoppers walked through the space that she once occupied. It was almost like watching a dream unfold in front of my eyes. I didn't feel right for the rest of the day. But the experience made me appreciate my time spent with my mother more than ever now. My advice to you: if you can't easily recall your memories or dreams, write them down. Keep them real. Ensure they stay current. Hang on to those moments, because in the end they're all that's left of you....
12.03.2008 The first is "Oz." I used to tape it from Showcase and watch the brutal, prison violence by myself in my apartment late at night. Don't get me wrong, it's a great show. But I just can't imagine myself now tucking my daughter into bed and then watching graphic shower stabbings and other prison atrocities. Cringe. The second show is "The X-Files." Well, actually, let me re-phrase that. There is one episode in particular that I don't think I could ever watch again. And that's the infamous "Home" episode. In fact I clearly remember being horrified back then when I watched Mulder and Scully discover that invalid woman hidden under the floor only to learn that she's trying to procreate with her own sons. Creepsville! Anyway. Call me old, whatever. I don't care. In the meantime I'll set the PVR for something more pleasant and less violent and gross.
12.02.2008 Anyway, I bought my first present for myself this week. I was at the Vancouver Art Gallery gift shop (which has very cool stuff BTW) and bought myself a little snow globe. I've always liked snow globes and when I told this to JJ en route to the gallery she asked if I had a snow globe collection. No, I don't. In fact before my recent purchase I didn't own a single snow globe. Why did I wait this long to buy one.....? So I was very pleased to find a nice snow globe that I liked later that day. There's something so magical about them. It's so cool to see the pleasant scene on display inside the bubble and the mesmerizing, swirling snow that appears when you give it a gentle shake. It's frozen in time yet alive. Looking at a snow globe is almost like watching a beautiful, living dream. And I just feel so happy when I look at them. The one I bought is quite small, fitting in the palm of my hand. It has a silver base and a silver snowman inside. We have not decorated the house yet and for now it sits on my nightstand. Whenever I walk past it I can't resist: I pick it up and shake it around and watch the animated, winter-wonderland image unfold before my eyes. And it makes me smile every time.
11.27.2008
I think back to incidences where people have
leaped in front of me to get through a doorway first, then
turned back to watch me struggle with a stroller and a heavy
door yet offer no help whatsoever (oh yes, it's happened more
than once). And I am so appreciative of Alex's thoughtful,
European-ways. Guys, take note.
11.25.2008 The same goes with our friends to some degree. Everyone is always pleasant to me but our circle of friends has no problem saying things to Robin like, "Why are you calling me so much, didn't I just talk to you last night?" or "You're being an ass." Whereas if it was me, their response would be, "Sweetie, great to hear from you!" or "Aw, Rena - you're the best!" So the other day Robin and I were out for drinks with my friends from work. I don't know how it came up but at one point JJ and PH sat across from Robin and told him in very serious tones that "Your wife is one of the nicest people we know" and "She's awesome, a really wonderful lady." It was no surprise that Robin (on to his fifth beer and third Tequila shot at that time) dismissed them with a hand wave and told them to "F*ck off already! Everyone always says that. I've heard it enough times already!" I had to laugh. But for the first time I felt kind of bad for Robin (well, not really - but just a bit). I mean, he must be really sick and tired of hearing all these great things about his better half when he's always getting berated and scolded. Poor guy.
11.22.2008 Their greatest hits album is the first album that I remember listening to in its entirety as a child. My mother had the tape cassette and our family would listen to it in the car, over and over again. Seriously, it was the only tape my brother and I insisted to play in the car. I'm not sure if my mother was just indulging us or if she really like Simon and Garfunkel too? Either way, we got a lot of miles on that cassette. As I listened to the album the other night, I heard it through adult ears. Some things were the same, but some things seemed different. I now have a real appreciation for "Bridge Over Troubled Water." When I was a kid I thought it was slow-moving and boring. But as a grown-up I appreciate its power, effortless vocals and the epic swells and dramatic finale. "Scarborough Fair" is still kind of creepy and "The Boxer" isn't as fun as I thought it was when I was young (it seems heavy and sad). But when I heard "Feeling Groovy" and "Cecilia" again I felt giddy and light. They really took me back in time and made me feel like a kid again with their whimsical, playful tones. And I really love the new kid on the block, "The Only Living Boy In New York" (this one wasn't on our original S&G cassette). I don't know if I'll make my family listen to this CD as much as I listened to it in the past. But I do plan to enjoy it on future car trips for the next little while. Who needs new music when you've found some gems from the past? Oh lord, I sound like an old-timer. But seriously - if you've never given Simon and Garfunkel a listen I strongly recommend it. I think there's something in there for everyone. How can you go wrong with strong lyric-writing skills, poetry to music, simple instrumentations and great harmonization? Down-to-earth music and words - so refreshing in this day and age.
11.15.2008 I've come to the conclusion that I think I have Badminton Tourette's. When I'm playing on the court and miss a shot (or the birdie is smashed directly into my body) I often curse involuntarily. I often take the lord's name in vain but at least I'm not dropping the F-bomb like my video gaming friends. Unlike them I'm surrounded by people and not in the safety of my own living room as I interact on-line. Of course once I do it I apologize and motion to cover up my mouth, because as my badminton partner (Teresa) always reminds me (as she mockingly scolds me), "Rena, this is a gentleman's game!" Well, I guess I'm no gentleman.
11.12.2008 These shoes are a timeless design and they are extremely comfortable. Like many inanimate objects they tell a story. Besides the fact that my grandmother bought them in the 1960s and wore them to the wedding of her only son, the fact that she then stored them away like priceless artifacts reveals some things about her. She was a woman who bought quality items and took great pride and care in them. But she was also very humble, too humble in my opinion, and probably thought it some weird way that she shouldn't be wearing such nice shoes on her feet for everyday use and instead should cherish them and keep them pristine and unmarked. I wish she could have enjoyed her life a little more while she was still alive. I'll always remember my grandmother with fond memories. She always had something nice to say to me. She would always remark how I was the perfect height. I know that must sound strange but she thought she was too short and marveled at the fact that her granddaughter did not inherit her short gene. (But even though there was several inches difference in our height, we have the same shoe size. Go figure). She also consistently told me how smart I was and when I went to university she always reminded me how great it was that I was getting a post-secondary education. She only had a Grade 3 education because her mother passed away at a young age and she was forced to leave school and help take care of her younger siblings. She was extremely self-conscious about her lack of formal education and always carried a dictionary in her purse so she could look up words that she did not understand. Sweet pride, in my eyes. But she wasn't resentful towards the educational opportunities that I had in my life; no, it was quite the opposite. She applauded and congratulated me all the time. We had a strong bond. I remember once at a family gathering I overheard her whisper to a family friend as she pointed to me, "This one, she's special." I wasn't meant to hear it but I was so happy that I did. Some words stay with you forever. Well, you can guess that I recall these words if I'm ever feeling down about myself and it always makes me feel better. So today I wore my grandmother's shoes all day at work (the shoes are quite stylishly retro in this day and age). As I thought about her shoes that were now on my feet, I could almost feel my confidence level rising. I felt like she was there with me, I remembered her kind words, I was reminded of her love. Nothing gives you a confidence boost like your grandmother's unconditional love. And I thought about her as I remembered her: so kind and gentle yet humble. But even though was a sweet, old lady she was incredibly strong. She lost her mother at an early age then was rushed into adulthood. She was shipped off to China to be raised by a stranger and also helped take care of her younger sisters. She endured back-breaking labour and saved her pennies to finally return back to Canada when she was in her 20s. My life has been so easy compared to her experiences. So as I walked around the today, I was honoured to share the same shoes with such an amazing, strong woman. I felt proud of who I was and who my grandmother was, and I felt like we were a team that could not be stopped. And I know I'll feel the same way when I wear them again tomorrow....
11.06.2008 I was on the skytrain during rush hour the other day. When I entered the car I moved to the far end away from the door because I knew there would be many more commuters picked up at later stations. But I couldn't stand right up against the far wall because a woman was sitting there with her walker and it was taking up some room at her feet. No worries. Sure enough more people gradually boarded the train until it was quite full. At the Broadway Station a blonde woman entered the crowded car and looked in my direction and announced very loudly, "Excuse me! There are many people trying to get on. Can you PLEASE move further back? I can see there's lots of room!" she pointed to the space near me where the walker prevented me from moving closer to the wall (but the walker being waist-height was out of view from this mouthy passenger). Before I could even respond, the walker's owner yelled out, "There's a walker here! People can't move any closer!" Silence. That's right. Blondie had nothing to say, not even an "Oops, I apologize, I didn't see the walker, ma'am" or anything along those lines. No, after speaking with such authority and trying to enlighten us thick-headed commuters, she didn't have the decency to admit that she was mistaken. Sad. Really sad. And annoying.
11.05.2008 But one thought really hit me hard last night. Assuming President Obama stays the full 2 terms (and I hope he does), my daughter (along with many other young children) will develop from toddler to young child and know the US President as a black man. She won't necessarily think of him as the first African-American US President. He will just be who he is, the President. The thought of the US President being either black or white or Asian or Hispanic or Native American or gay or straight - it won't even register on her radar. It will be all that she'll know.
How incredibly cool is that?
10.30.2008 Wow, I thought to myself. He's going to be really handsome when he's older. Srrrcch, needle on the record. What? Or more appropriately, WTF? Uhm, reality check. He's not a real person. He's not going to get older. Wow. What a strange thought to have? Yes, it must be the pumpkin fumes. I'm blaming the pumpkin fumes for this one.
10.27.2008 1.) Chocolate Sampling Mentality: I was at a toddler's Halloween party yesterday. The hostess' little girl waddled up to the food table and grabbed a sausage wedge. She took a bite, licked it, then put it in the pickled onion bowl. Then she grabbed another meat snack and toddled away. Without missing a beat or interrupting my conversation that I was having with another mother, I reached over and snatched up the rejected wiener piece and put it in a napkin. We were all mothers with toddlers; we know what happens with little hands and fickle minds when it comes to food. I'm not advocating that adults start doing that as well in the company of an adults-only party. That would be gross. But I still think it's hilariously cool that kids can get away with that. 2.) I Have Had Enough: my little daughter's budding vocabulary is helping her communicate her wishes more and more. She knows how to say 'All done' when she's had enough to eat, and she knows to wave at me and say 'Bye-bye' when I leave the house for work in the morning. Now she's also learned to take these words and apply them to similar situations. For example I took her to the Parade of Lost Souls on Saturday night. It was dangerously close to her bed time but I thought it would be a nice break from her routine. Well, it was 7pm and instead of being all safe and quiet in her crib she was strapped into her stroller surrounded by stilt-walkers, fire-jugglers and various demons and goblins. "All done! All done!" she screamed. Translation: get me out of here! I've had enough. Also we can be in a restaurant and I'll only be half-way through my meal when Sloane throws down her food, starts ripping off her bib and exclaims loudly, "Bye-bye!" and tries to wriggle out of her high chair. Well, I guess she wants to go now? I'd love to just be able to walk away like that from a tedious meeting or a boring conversation. What a graceless yet awesome exit strategy.
Anyway. The World According to Toddlers.
We can learn a lot from them, but we don't necessarily want
to behave like them. If we did act like them, it would be
social etiquette anarchy for sure.
10.26.2008 I thought it was entertaining and educational as the narrator talked about what would happen to the Statue of Liberty over time (she would collapse eventually after her iron frame gave way), what items would exist for thousands of years (stainless sinks, for example), what Manhattan would look like (swamp or marshland), etc. The images for this possible future showed beautiful scenery of lush plant life and roaming herds of animals. Horses would reclaim the mid-West and pigs would evolve to regrow their thick, black hair which humans had spent decades 'breeding out.'
As I watched this, I was surprised at my
reaction. "Go plants and animals!" I was cheering them on. I
almost couldn't wait for this vibrant and natural landscape,
even though obviously I wouldn't be around to enjoy it. Go
figure.
10.24.2008
"Singing In the Rain Across the
Universe" Then last night I finally watched "Across the Universe" which had been hanging around on the PVR for far too long. Ah, more music and spontaneous, crowd-stopping dance routines! This time it was the Beatles' music as the backdrop to a politically-charged love story. And now I associate "I Want To Hold Your Hand" with young, lesbian, cheerleader love. Beautiful emotions, indeed. So I was thinking today: why can't life be a musical? If I'm stressed at work, can't I burst out singing in a meeting, "Under Pressure" and hop onto the conference table while my co-workers provide harmony and synchronized hand gestures? Or during my morning commute as I see so many grey, sad faces on the skytrain, I'd love to mournfully start singing "Eleanor Rigby" while the crowd on the platform suddenly partners off then does a slow waltz. Why not indeed? But then I realized I used to sing spontaneously (not so much dance, but definitely sing). When I lived on my own and feel the need to fill up my 700 square-foot area that I occupied solely by myself, I would often just start singing. There was no one to complain, no one to judge - it was my space, all for me. But I realize that since having a family (and hence others to share my space) I don't sing that often because I don't want to be disruptive.
So I made the
decision to fill my life with song
again (at home, that is). And now my
audience is my daughter. I used to
sing lullabies to her when she was
little, and now I'm just going to
start serenading her. I started off
the day with a cheery "Good
morning/good morning/ it's great to
stay up late!" while she laughed and
jumped in her crib. And I'll just
continue my musical dialogue
whenever the mood strikes me. My
living space will be full of songs
once more. What a good morning
indeed. Here comes the sun!
10.19.2008 Anyone?
10.17.2008 I go into her room, scoop her up in my arms and kiss her face. She's all flannel and cotton and tousled hair. And big smiles. "Hi!" she exclaims, then starts to wriggle in my arms. I unzip her out of her sleep sack and set her loose on the floor. She tears off into the direction of the TV, her bare feet thumping heavily against the hardwood. "Do-RA!" she shouts enthusiastically (translation: I want to watch 'Dora the Explorer'). And in her excitement she runs right past my mother who is sitting in the kitchen, her babysitting shift officially starting. When Sloane reaches the living room and does a 90-degree turn, she sees her grandma in the other room. Sloane scrunches her face up into an exaggerated smile and laughs like only a happy, little girl can laugh. Then she dashes into the kitchen at top speed and jumps into her grandmother's awaiting arms. I witness the whole scene, drink it all in, and I'm so happy. One of the most beautiful things in this world (to me) is witnessing the bond between my daughter and my mother. Watching them interact and play and seeing the adoration in both their eyes for each other - it doesn't get any better than this. As I rush around the house getting ready for work, I pass through the kitchen again. Sloane is seated in her high chair, feeding herself oatmeal while my mother looks on from across the table. Sloane whines and points and does baby sign language for "More." I hear my mother say, "What do you want, sweetie? Is everything ok? Oh, do you want me to sing for you?" I stop in my tracks to watch this. My mother is smiling and starts singing "The Farmer In the Dell" and Sloane resumes her eating, swinging her feet with contentment. Man, when was the last time anyone serenaded me while I ate? A grandmother's love is different from a mother's love. Mothers and daughters will butt heads and they won't hold back. They will fight and hate and scrap and complain. That is not to say that they don't get along, but they are separated by their closeness to a degree. But a grandmother and her granddaughter's relationship is more pure and clean of hostility and growing pains. Their bond is based on laughter and adoration and 'you can do no wrong because you are you.'
I was very close to my
grandmother and I was very sad when she
passed on. And I look at my mother and my
daughter now and I feel happiness yet a
little envy too. I leave the kitchen
unnoticed as I don't want to spoil their
private moment. It wasn't for me to see so
I go on my way. But my heart feels lighter
and my day is full of promise with the
realization that my household is full of
love.
10.15.2008 So, I really don't want this journal entry to be a rant. There is a silver lining, I promise. But let me get the rant portion out of the way now. I was stuck motionless for an hour during the rush-hour commute. Ouch. But yes, things happen. I work in the software industry. Lord knows I'm familiar with 'technical bugs' and things going awry. I totally am not going to rant about that. But when our train car finally got manually steered into Broadway Station it sat for 20 minutes while the 'omniscient' announcer kept saying, "It'll be 10-20 minutes folks." But then after 20 minutes of sitting idly at the station, a Translink attendant sauntered on to our car. "Hey folks," she said casually like she was our next-door-neighbour waving at us while we were in our bathrobes and picking up our morning newspapers, "you might want to consider taking a bus because we don't know when the skytrain will be up and running." To quote JJ: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot????!!!! Really! And then the questions started coming: what buses will help us get downtown (where the majority of us were heading) and where are the bus stops? "Oh, down there," she points to the Broadway/Commercial intersection. "And you'll have to ask the bus drivers where they're going." Okay. Must contain anger here as I write this. Once again, I understand that s*it happens and things go wrong. But please, when you've stranded rush-hour commuters for ONE hour then kept their hopes up at the station for 20 minutes that the trains will be back on-line soon, don't send an employee to deliver the bad news with a smile and a hand-wave. Give us the information (e.g. bus routes and alternate modes of transport) - go to translink.ca and give some bus route info to your attendants so they can answer FAQs! Communicate to us in a timely manner! Be efficient and proactive with your disaster recovery plan! Grrrrrrrr! So angry! Needless to say the buses were packed (line-ups went around the block) and chances of getting close to the bus driver were slimmer than Kate Moss in the 90s. So I hopped on a bus and took my chances with its route and destination. I finally got to work 2.5 hours after leaving my house. Normally it takes me 40 minutes door-to-door. Thanks for letting me vent. NOW for the good stuff. I love Vancouver during times like this. While I was stuck with a bunch of strangers I was reminded of a story my friend told me when he lived in New York City. He said when the Manhattan subways had issues and the trains stopped, it only took about 5 minutes until people (business commuters packed in like sardines during rush-hour) screamed out, "F*ck this!" and pried the doors open and walked along the tracks, taking their chances with the electrically-charged tunnels and beagle-sized rats. In comparison, we sat there and engaged in idle chit-chat and made sure we rotated the seats amongst the passengers (people took turns sitting and standing). We would mock the vague announcements and growled out collectively when we realized an hour had passed by while we hung suspended in the air. But we were always so civilized and polite. Then when we took our chances with the buses, we helped each other as best we could to determine the bus routes and destinations (since Translink didn't offer any help). People with Blackberries looked up info and relayed to the rest of us. We had each other, even though Translink had failed us. And then, when all the dust had settled and I found myself on a functioning skytrain the next day, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. It was one of the women whom I'd met yesterday. She recognized me and asked how I was. We chatted a bit, did our best to laugh-off the events from the previous day, and then parted ways with a friendly wave. A bond had been formed.
Ah, people. Sometimes
they drive you crazy. But when brought
together by a 'disaster' sometimes you find
comfort in strangers. And that's a good
thing, something that I am thankful for.
10.13.2008
Oh, dear lord. Yes,
I
have dark hair and yes, I wear glasses. But, come on!
Seriously? UGLY Betty/Momma? Et tu, Sloane?
10.09.2008 She laughed with joy (ah, there is not a sweeter sound in this world for me than my daughter's laugh!) and she grabbed on to his hair for stability. Then she decided she wanted to kiss her mother who was below her now. "Awk!" she commanded (her word for 'kiss') and Robin yelped. Sloane had tightened her grip on his hair as she attempted to 'steer' him down towards me so she could steal a kiss. It was just like the movie "Ratatouille" when the rat controlled his human that way. OMG, it was too adorable.
10.08.2008 When I got them as a child it was such a magical experience. I remember the waiter or waitress bringing the Pirate Pack to the table and I would be giddy with excitement. I would always save the chocolate coin (aka the pirate booty) for last after devouring my meal. Then I would take the ship home with me to play with. I would hide it in my closet so my mother wouldn't find it (as I knew what was coming next). Being the clean-freak that she is, she would find my pirate ship and throw its grease-stained hull in the garbage. Meal-time was so whimsical and enjoyable when the food was dished up in a pirate ship. It was such a treat. I would always look forward to our family trips to the Spot. And watching my daughter's eyes light up at the sight of her first Pirate Pack and how she had a huge grin as she devoured her grilled cheese and fries and special chocolate coin - well, I could almost feel that child-like sense of wonder and discovery all over again. I look at the picture that I took to mark the occasion and I am filled with pure joy. Ah, to see the world through the eyes of a child again....
10.07.2008 As I rushed out of the platform area and dashed towards my waiting bus, I felt heavy with the weight of that day's work-related stress. All I could think about (still) were numbers and deadlines and emails that had to be written. But as we passed each other, our figures etched into the concrete backdrop, two people passing through the same space and time, you gave me 'the look.' It was a look of acknowledgment yet more; it was flattering and not creepy in the least and it was accompanied by a slight smile. And when my bewildered brown eyes momentarily locked with your stunning, sky-blue eyes, I briefly forgot where I was and what I was worrying about. All I knew was that you were a flashing image of beauty during an otherwise stressful, grey day.
And for that, I thank you very much.
10.01.2008 But one thing stuck out this year for me. My brother's birthday is 2 days before mine and all our lives we've always had a joint birthday celebration with our family. However since he moved to Toronto earlier this year, this was the first time ever that we spent our birthdays apart. Of course I called him on his milestone birthday 2 days before mine and he called me on my birthday at dinner time. Robin, my mother, Sloane and myself were just sitting down to enjoy a steak and lobster BBQ when he called. So we put him on speaker phone and propped the phone up in the middle of the table and we talked to him for 10 minutes. Hearing his familiar voice coming out of our cordless Vtech made me realize how accustomed I had become to our traditional family celebrations. Technically we were all there together for a joint birthday dinner but it just wasn't the same. Sigh. Oh well. There's a first time for everything. I guess it'll just get easier over the years and we'll adjust and adapt (like we do for everything else in life). But I'm certainly not looking forward to our first Christmas apart as a geographically fragmented family. No, I'm not.
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