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Journal Archives (April-June 2009):
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06.25.2009 Thank goodness someone knows what I'm talking about! I grew up thinking these Finnish creatures were just the coolest things ever. I still have the Moomintroll books that I read as a child and I'm keeping them for my daughter (for when she's older). I loved the cute, round features of their faces. Plus I immensely enjoyed reading about their detailed, fantastical adventures and their entourage of bizarre characters who also lived in their valley. But the books were also haunting and invoked a sense of isolation, and dusted with melancholy. Their stories left a lasting impression with me. I'll always cherish the Moomintrolls and the memories and feelings that they invoke from my childhood. And I'm glad I have someone that I can talk to about them now too.
06.23.2009
06.17.2009 I was thinking of these cheesy yet nostalgic comic-posters recently because I had 2 examples of my own this week, about what love is: 1.) Love is... passing by your spouse in the kitchen in the middle of dinner-time mayhem, and he gives you a quick kiss on the mouth, and you get tingles all over (from your scalp to your toes) and you are reminded that there is no one else for you other than your beloved. 2.) Love is... having your toddler run up to you and wrap her little arms around your neck and hearing her happily shout, "I wuv you!" and you can actually see the love and admiration in her eyes.
06.11.2009 I am consistently amazed at the bizarre and truly horrendous (and never mind inappropriate) outfits that I see during my morning commutes to the business district. The other day I saw a young, thin, attractive Asian woman wearing (what looked like) only a man's dress shirt and no bottoms whatsoever. You've got to be kidding me. I just had to get a closer look to see if it was true. After hiding behind a pole and discretely taking a peek, I realized that she was wearing a grey unitard, the man's dress shirt on top (unbottoned), black nylons and spike heels. It was Flashdance meets Wall Street. How horribly awesome.
06.10.2009 That conversation transpired months ago but I hadn't really changed my daily practices of catching up with reading the news during my morning commutes. However, that all changed today. Amidst the stories about plane crashes (and searching for bodies), atrocities committed against animals and more gang-related slayings, there was the mother of all headlines that made me shut the paper for good: "Remains Found of 3 Babies."
Enough! I've
had it with reading horrible,
depressing, 'what has the world
come to' stories all the time. I
threw the paper in the nearest
recycling bin. And I don't plan
to expose myself to any more
news stories for the next little
while. You can accuse me of
being an ostrich (i.e. hiding my
head in the sand) or being
ignorant, but I don't care. I'll
be much happier this way in my
blissfully ignorant state. Bring
on the music and crosswords on
the skytrain instead. The world
can be ending around me, but
I'll be none the wiser. And
that's fine by me.
06.08.2009
Seriously? I have troubles as
it is pronouncing that word correctly (plus I
had to Google it to know how to spell it), and
my toddler nailed it. I don't know whether I
should feel pride or shame.....
06.04.2009 For example: my 2-and-a-bit toddler applies the term 'baby' to relatively small objects. If you show her a photograph of a large bear which is standing beside a smaller bear, she'll point to the smaller one and identify it as 'Baby Bear.' That seems logical and reasonable. However, if you show her a picture of a bunch of animals and some animals are further away in the distance (i.e. they are smaller than the ones in the foreground) she thinks the creatures in the distance are 'babies.' Laughable at first, yes. But yet you can kind of see why she would think that, no?
06.02.2009 I sit outside a meeting room and the other day I heard what I thought was a customer support call going on. No big whoop but it's always nice to know what's going on in the office. When it ended, Double-D came out with his laptop (he's one of our R&D Directors and I call him that nickname because there are 2 D's in his name, not because of his 'Bro' size). I flagged him over to my desk. I was being nosy and asked him who the customer was on the call. He looked skyward, deep in thought, trying to remember the customer's name. He tried a few stumbling attempts at pronunciation. I gave him a wave of mock impatience and told him, "Whatever. As long as they come to us with big bags of cash, tell them we'll call them 'Daddy.'"
I love the verbal freedom in my work
world. I can't imagine it any other way.
06.01.2009
It starts today. And so far it's been
going swell, thanks for asking.
05.25.2009 I had one of those moments at my monthly Mommy Group gathering. Six of us with our respective toddlers were hanging out on a blanket in the park. We were sharing some food, laughing, and telling pseudo-horror, parenting stories. Sloane was standing up in the middle of the blanket, and out of the blue she started swaying her hips back and forth with her hands balled up in little fists that quietly pumped in the air. We were all seated around her and we all looked at her. A big smile emerged under her 'fro. "I dancing!" she proudly exclaimed. She was dancing by herself. No shyness, no music, no encouragement. And happy as a clam. I was so happy for her and envious at the same time. When was the last time I, as an adult, shed my inhibitions like that and just enjoyed some self-expressive movements? I honestly can't say or remember. We all laughed and clapped and she kept on dancing. Her moon face was stretched out in a priceless grin. I didn't think it was possible, but I loved her just a little bit more after observing her pure happiness. They say we learn from our kids. I'd say I have to agree. Wow, I have so much to learn over the next few years....
05.19.2009 1.
Rocking the Party with Jemaine and Bret After frantically calling spouses to confirm babysitting coverage (thanks, Robin!) and car bookings (thanks JT for giving up Hatchie for the day!), we pressed the "Purchase Tickets" button and high-fived each other. Yes! We were going to go see Jemaine and Bret and their lovely sugar-lumps on the following Monday. Oh, right. And we needed to book time off work. Yes, one minor detail. I emailed my manager who was on vacation at the time, and told him about my plans. There was no sweat whatsoever re: if I would get the time off or not. Flight of the Conchords were coming, and I was going. End of story. Plus I knew he was a big fan so he'd be happy I was going, and not inconvenienced whatsoever at my short notice about skipping out of the office. You've got to love the flexible work environment. Ah, life is good! 2.
We Are All Like a Boss We are big users of IM at my current work place. And some of the group convos we have crack me up. The other day, Dave, JJ and I were all discussing the logistics of crossing the border and making the Flight of the Conchords' concert in Seattle. Dave said he was going to 'self-mutilate himself' if he was late for the show, quoting the Lonely Island crew as part of our conversation. And I responded with another lyrical line from "Like a Boss" (asking him not to 'deface Debrah's desk') because I knew exactly what he was talking about (and I knew JJ understood too). Right after I pressed 'Send' I heard JJ laughing. It was infectious and I started laughing too. Then JJ read my mind and said out loud, "Gawd, sometimes I love this job!" Yes, I have found my tribe at work. And I love them. 3.
Bring Your Toddler To Work Day Just as I predicted, our little toddler was all over the office environment. She was chasing tradeshow swag (e.g. beach balls) down the big corridors and climbing all over the office swivel chairs. She ran down hallways saying 'hi' to everyone at their desks. Even the big boss made a point of putting his conference call on mute and flagging us into his office for a quick visit. Then we ate lunch in the lunchroom and turned the TV to the Treehouse channel just for Sloane (and none of the adults complained - many of them are parents themselves). Our office manager fed her grapes and everyone joked about the 'new intern.' Then when it was time to go, I had to chase her down to the R&D area, trying to convince her to put on her jacket. She finally complied and then I told her it was time to "Say good-bye to everyone." "Bye!"
she yelled out with a big, accompanying hand wave. All
the guys looked up from their desks and said a big,
unified "Bye!" in response. It was really sweet. My work
colleagues were genuinely happy to meet and entertain my
daughter. She was a welcome addition to the office. At
the end of the visit, I realized that I really do have a
work family too. And it's a great feeling.
05.05.2009 There are times when Robin and I are lying in bed in the morning and we've brought Sloane into our room for some family time. As she's ecstatically jumping on our bed and crawling all over us, I'll look at her feral, curly, reddish hair and her broad smile and her too-soft, 'baby' skin and Robin and I will comment together, "OMG, look at that. We created that!" Yes, what was once a microscopic seedling is now a 35-lb happy, bouncing creature who giggles and adores us. There is the occasional toddler temper tantrum but I'm more than willing to accept the 'bad' when the 'good' is this good. But I can smell the change in the air (and I'm not talking about the toilet-training process here). My little human offspring still totally loves and admires her mother and she is happiest when Mommy is nearby. And for the most part she's quite agreeable and likes to tag along with us and do what we say. But there have been a couple of incidences lately (tantrums aside) that make me realize that she is indeed her own person. She is not just an extension of my being. She has her own thoughts, wishes, opinions and agendas. Read on:
1. He or she? But the other day she looked at me sternly and informed me that Ice-Bat is a 'she'. It stopped me in my tracks. I had just assumed he was a boy. It never dawned on me that Ice-Bat could be a girl? WTF? I was just corrected by my 2 year old on the gender of her stuffed animal. Who would have thought?
2. Are you colour-blind, or
you can't read? Which is it? Well, the other day she was quite sleepy and we were talking about colours as I wrapped her up in her blanket. I was talking about Chuck and Jeero when she suddenly corrected me, "No, Mommy. JEERO is brown. CHUCK is grey." Uhm, no. That's not true. So I told her so. Pause. "No Mommy! JEERO is brown! CHUCK is grey!!!" she still insisted. Oh dear lord. Are you colour blind? Or can't you read yet (oh of course not, I already know the answer to that question). Or have you forgotten? This went back and forth a few times, until I stubbornly turned on the light. In my efforts to prove a point, I temporarily blinded my daughter as she sleepily rubbed her eyes to drown out the sudden burst of light in the room. "There, see! CHUCK is brown and JEERO is grey!" I pointed to the photos on the wall. She just blinked and looked at me like I was crazy. At that point I did feel crazy. I was involved in an argument that I couldn't win and I couldn't prove anything to an illiterate toddler. Deadlocked. I predict this type of 'argument' will become quite common over the next few years.
3. I Will Play a Joke on You She was being cheeky. She was playing a little joke on me. She wasn't just being binary (no or yes, black or white, agreeing with my request or denying me). No, she was having some fun with it. What a little monkey. But I loved the jokester personality. As her parent, I thought it was adorable. So there you have it. When I say I've created a 'monster', I merely mean that my once totally dependent and agreeable daughter is now contradicting her mother and pulling funnies and developing her own (important) sense of self. I knew it would happen one day but it's still weird to see it becoming a reality before my eyes.
I predict that over the next few
years I'll be learning a lot about myself just by
interacting with my daughter. And my only request: I
hope she still jumps in our bed and giggles with
glee for many more mornings in the years to come.
It's one of the best things in the world and I know
it won't last forever.
05.04.2009 But then Alejandro sent me an email the other week and asked me if I planned on showing Sloane my child-related entries to her when she's grown-up? He continued on to say that he wishes his parents kept detailed journal entries describing his formative years. Yes, I agreed. Of course I would want Sloane to read about her world through her mother's eyes. That would be some serious bonding in the future, and some laugh out-loud moments about life with baby/toddler/child. I will continue to write about my daughter, and maybe even write more about her now that Alejandro has pointed out the benefits.
I contemplated making a separate
Sloane journal on my website. But really, who has
time? So for now you're stuck with many more entries
about my daughter. Sorry, but it's all for her (as
usual)....
04.27.2009 And no, I'm not a soul-less, unromantic, bitter troll. I believe in love. I just don't think there's that 1 perfect person for me. Robin and I make a great pair but we're definitely not perfect together. We have our differences and we need our time apart. Our love is bonding and I treasure what we have, but I don't necessarily view him as 'the one who was meant for me.' I hate to say it because I know it'll make me sound cold, but it boils down to statistics and probabilities. Let's pretend that I consider Robin my soul mate. Okay. So we're two souls walking this big, old planet who are meant to be together. And we just happened to grow up 30 km from each other. Wow. What are the odds? There are 6 billion souls who walk the Earth with me. Granted, not all of them fit the bill of what I'm looking for or attracted to (e.g. heterosexual men and ideally single). But still. My 'soul mate' could be living in New Zealand or France or Brazil. By definition does your soul mate have to speak the same language as you? Attraction is one thing, but communication definitely impacts your day-to-day living. If that's the case, I should be looking only in English-speaking regions for my soul mate? That doesn't really sound as romantic anymore; suddenly, love sounds like it's constrained by geographical boundaries and distances. And don't get me started on people who are on their third or fourth marriage and they talk about finding their 'soul mate.' No, I'm not judging peoples' choices to have multiple, consecutive, long-term partners. But I disagree with their labels that they use. And for those single folks who insist that they're not going to 'settle down' with just any one person until they find their soul mate: get your head out of your ass. I suspect that you're making excuses for your single existence (not that there's anything wrong with being single). I think you're purposely (and maybe subconsciously) setting your expectations too high so it looks like you have an excuse for a string of failed relationships. Get over it, and look for the good qualities of your partner. And accept the bad qualities too (within reason of course). Stop creating the unattainable, unrealistic standards of a soul mate and love the one you're with....
04.24.2009
1. Really? Paper Hand-outs? Really??!?
2.
Janitorial Training 101 >A day or two ago housekeeping came through in the early evening while I > was still here. The cleaner dumped my paper-recycle bin into my trash > can and then dumped the entire thing into her (one) bin on her cart. I > don't want to get any housekeeping staff fired or anything, but >doesn't this defeat the purpose of our having recycle bins?
Classic.
3. Reuse Gone Too Far
04.11.2009 I guess it all started with a conversation I had with Ivan recently. After a series of events over the past year he told he that he felt that the life he was living wasn't his. I stopped with my fork full of eggplant bharta mid-air. Yes, I knew what he was speaking of. As in, I could relate. Yes, how come my life also doesn't quite feel like my own anymore? Well, that answer was pretty easy to me. Being a parent has really changed my life, my priorities, my daily existence. Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter and would never, ever go back to my single existence without the self-extension that is my family (i.e. my spouse and daughter are like extensions of me, part of my being - I can not imagine myself without them). But it's also easy to get a little lost in it all. Life is consumed by diaper-changing schedules, clock-work feedings and nap regiments. Then it evolves into daycare arrangements and snack-time and potty training. My 'me' time has been whittled down to about 1 hour a day these days. That's all I have to devote to myself before I pass out in bed, unable to even stay awake for "Robot Chicken" at 10pm. But saying that, I've also been overly self-conscious (or maybe overly self-aware?) about being a parent lately. Let me explain. I don't want to talk about my daughter too much in my blog and in my every day conversations. Why? Because I don't want to appear to be one of those parents who thinks that being a parent defines who he/she is. So of course I turn to Brian for advice since he's a new parent himself. His re-assurance was perfect. And I appreciated his self-observation that his life has naturally evolved to focus on his new child because things like fashion and music weren't that important anymore; for such things he was now an observer and no longer a participant. Well said. I felt better after chatting with him as I normally do. But wait. His words weren't completely applicable to my situation (and to be fair they weren't meant to be). For me, I'd like to think that fashion is still a part of my existence (I wish Banana Republic had a 'frequent flyer' program). Music on the other hand - I have to admit that I'm definitely out of touch there. I rely on Ivan and Farshad to tell me what I should be listening to. When I discovered The Ting Tings on an episode of "Yo Gabba Gabba" recently (don't ask), I immediately called Ivan and asked him what he thought about them. He paused and before he could answer, I answered for him: "You were listening to them 1-2 years ago." Yes, that was correct. Okay, based on Ivan as my music gauge (since he discovers bands years before me), I should be listening to them right about now. I find with music (and not so much with fashion) that everything old can be new again. So lately I've been ripping many of my old CDs that I recently got out of storage. And I've been loving it. I find myself listening to songs and artists that I listened to over a decade ago. And when I hear those familiar songs and lyrics I am always reminded of the person that I was back then. Well, I'm still that same person today. Yet I'm not... Today in the car I found an old tape and played it. I found myself tingling with giddy excitement, anticipating what each next track would be. My drive back home from White Rock was filled with the likes of Alanis Morissette, Jane Siberry, The Smiths, and Portishead to name a few. And then the mother of all songs came on: Tori Amos belting out "Silent All These Years." I had forgotten about this song, how much I used to love this song. And suddenly it filled my car and it was almost spiritual how relevant it seemed to be ("I hear my voice/And it's been here/Silent all these years/I've been here/Silent all these years"). And there's one particular part of the song that has always given me chills and I wasn't disappointed today. It just felt right to turn up the volume and sing along with her: "So you found a girl who thinks really deep thoughts/What's so amazing about really deep thoughts?/Boy you best pray that I bleed real soon/How's that thought for ya?" I was lost in the lyrics and the images of a feisty redhead banging on the piano keys when I looked in the rearview mirror and saw my daughter watching me. Wait, maybe not the most appropriate lyrics to be singing out loud in the presence of a toddler. But this is me. Or this WAS me? It didn't matter. The point is, this was now. And speaking of music and relevance, I found myself at Aly's party last night. I saw people I hadn't seen in years, people I used to club with every weekend. They all hugged and kissed me and asked how my baby was. I wasn't even going to bring up the topic of my child because I didn't think this club-hopping crowd would be into chatting about parenthood. But they were indeed interested and I showed them pictures of my little sweetie on my cell phone. And in the background was the music that Aly had selected for the evening: songs that we used to dance to years ago at Odyssey and Celebrities (Night Crawlers, Mighty Dub Cats, Madonna, etc). Hello past, meet the present. And when we all did a Mojito shooter, and one of the blonde boys yelled out the toast, "Let's rock out with our cocks out!" I realized that I was the only straight woman amidst a room full of stylish, handsome, poised gay men. The times have NOT changed. Not at all. And then tonight I finally watched the "Sex and the City Movie." I found Samantha's story line to be particularly interesting to me. I hope I'm not writing any movie spoilers here when I mention that she ends up leaving a relationship because she's not investing enough time and effort into herself. Sound familiar, as in wishful thinking sometimes? Well, not to that extreme. But yes. It's so important to remember who you are and not to neglect yourself. And lastly, finally, I am reminded of a conversation I had 3 weeks ago with Peter who now resides in Taiwan. It was eerie timing but earlier that day Peter came up in a conversation at home. Robin asked me how much I used to see Peter when he lived in the Couv. It was probably once a week back then. And now we speak maybe every few months. Wow, how things have changed. Then later that evening I get a call from Peter! Our conversation was how I remembered our interactions to be - comfortable and a little self-deprecating. And when I asked him (don't ask me the context): what are we going to be like when we're old, like in our 70s? His answer was something like: <pause> Shit honey. Well, we're going to be the same. You will be you, and I will be me. But we'll just be old. <pause and laugh> OMG, it's going to be so sad and depressing! I like that. "You will be you. And I will be me." Don't ever forget who you are no matter what situation you find yourself in. And to bring it full circle: if you feel that your life isn't your own at times, don't worry. Rest assured, your life is yours. You just have to remind yourself of that once in awhile....
04.07.2009 I was reading an article about a certain, former 1970s, female sex symbol who unfortunately is battling cancer. But what really caught my eye was the form of the disease: anal cancer. What, really? I've heard of breast, testicular, skin, colon, and bowel cancer (to name a few). But not cancer of the anus. When I think about it, cancer could theoretically spring up anywhere on or in the human body. I guess I had never specifically thought about cancer being in one's anal region. I don't know, but there was something unsettling about the article's use of those 2 terms together. Almost disrespectful. Goodness knows I'm not a prude. Also I grew up in a nurse's house. Plus I worked in a medical clinic as a summer job when I was a student. So medical terms and concepts don't bother me (in addition I know some pretty crazy, anatomy-related, gross-out stories from my mother and from my experience working in the doctor's office). But it just seemed almost unnecessary in this particular situation and article to be so, I don't know, graphic. Why not just state, "She's battling cancer." End of description of the disease. Anyway. I probably shouldn't have written this entry. Someone out there will take it the wrong way....
04.06.2009
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