Paging Mother Nature - get a grip woman!

I was startled to feel light flurries hit my cheeks as I stepped off the bus last night. Still, we'd had flurries this early before, but always the kind that melted as soon as they hit the ground. Apparently Ma Nature was out partying late last night, coz obviously someone has been playing havoc with her magic. This was the scene in my backyard when I woke up this morning. For Pete's sake - it's not even November!!!!!

Are you speaka de Ainglish???

Trying to help me with new Internet reading material, the Irishman suggested I check Overheard in Dublin. Great idea I thought. And I figured I would also learn a little more about the place where he grew up.

Except that a lot of the jokes were totally lost on me due to cultural/local references. Even more bizarre was the fact that although I knew it was an English language site, it wasn't quite like the English I knew! After 15 mins of struggling with the posts, I was forced to email the Irishman to ask for a translation on the following words:

what's the craic
wan
lash her out of it
potnoodles
jungwan
howerya
DART
skanger girl
Ung Fella
Sheriff St lads
ASBO
D4 type girl
chipper

And that was just from the first page!

So much for attempting to connect culturally!

Making New Friends

With many of my regular blog buddies currently on hiatus, I've been lacking in online reading material of late.

Ok, so that may seem weird with the 1000s (10,000 perhaps?) blogs out there, not to mention all the random websites possible it may seem strange that I cannot find replacements.

Thing is, I don't like random blog surfing. Its too impersonal! I can't seem to get involved in the loves and lifes of complete strangers unless I have a background about who they are and what they're all about. Yes, reading the blog will tell me those things, but whatever - I'm strange that way!!! Also, given that I have the best blog buddies in the world, it would be hard for me to find pals just as great by simply hitting the "next" button.

So, can you my faithful reader(s?) recommend some new blogs for me to try out?

Turning over Leaves and Unearthing Dilemmas

Thanks to the gale force winds that swept though the GTA last week, much of the trees were "persuaded" to let go of their beautiful fall foliage. While raking the yard some days ago, I utilized the time to indulge in a little introspection. Many things were thought about - mostly involving work and relationship - and many little (and big) discoveries were made.

For starters, the realization that my job is getting better every day. Although at first this may seem like a something that would cause joy - not worry and introspection, the situation is a little more complicated. There are several projects poised for take off in early 2009 and I had a close hand in planning/proposing some of them. A few days ago, my VP mentioned to me that if we get the go ahead on a certain project, she will be looking to me to head it up. Normally, I would be jumping at the opportunity which would mean an expansion of my role, heading an internal team and interacting and liaising with some very interesting external partners. All good things, except that it's the worst possible timing!

The thing is, that I don't really want to tie myself to any long-term assignments right now because of the situation with the Irishman. Things have been progressing well since I got back after the wedding. He's decided to come over for a visit in February and I guess that will be the time when we decide just what we want from this relationship. I DO know that I cannot (and will not) do this long distance thing for any longer than absolutely necessary. Call me old school, but I feel that a relationship is not going to grow and thrive and mature if the two persons are on opposite sides of an ocean. And let's face it, I don't relish the thought of the possibility of sex with my boyfriend just twice a year, or thrice if Air Canada has a seat sale!

I had been thinking of moving to the UK for sometime now, even before recent developments involving matters of the heart. Very Best Friend had been trying to get me to come live in Glasgow for a while, and another close friend who lives in London had also been bribing me with ideas of how we could "explore the continent" together etc. etc. My initial idea was to move to London for a year (at first) and evaluate my long term needs based on my experiences and opportunities there. The fact that the Irishman lives in Glasgow has now of course pushed that city as the front runner in my "Live in Europe" plan.

The advent of the Irishman has forced me to think about my short and long term housing arrangements

For those not in the know, I bought a house with my parents in late 2006. The deal at the time was that I stay with them for at least 2 years before making a decision whether I wanted to continue living with them or get my own place. The deadline will be up next month.

I'll have to admit that living with my parents has enabled me to save up loads over the years and indulge in my # 1 passion - travel. The down side of living with one's parents is that one continues to get treated like a child no matter how old said "child" actually is. This is compounded by the fact that my family is traditionally Indian in the sense that it is expected that children will move away only when they get married, and not for any other reason. The notion of Adulthood is tied in quite strongly with Marriage and trying to be a "Single Adult" is almost a revolutionary idea. It matters not that I contribute a hefty amount towards the maintenance and running of the household, my parents still refuse to consult with me before making decisions regarding the house such as refurnishing the basement, doing up the backyard or repaving the driveway. My half of the mortgage and monthly payments pays for these changes - is it then so absurd that I would like to know about these things in advance? Heck, even be able to venture an opinion every now and then?

So, move out then, would be the response of many.

There's just one catch. But it's a big one!

All Indian parents are experts in Laying on the Guilt. Mine are doubly adept as not only do they have the benefit of years of Indian Guilt Laying techniques, my family is also Catholic. It is a vicious combination, not one for the faint of heart.

Every time I have complained about anything at home - and I submit the above examples of house renovations - I have gotten THE LITANY. (see, there's the Catholic tie-in)

THE LITANY consists of my mum and dad taking turns to remind me about all (and I do mean ALL) the things - material, professional, emotional - that my parents gave up to get us to Canada.

Dad: We gave up our jobs, good jobs,

Together: To bring you here

Mum: We gave up our family, my mother and father,

Together: To bring you here.

Dad: We gave up early retirement and our pension,

Together: To bring you here.

And it goes on.

Trying to fight that flood of emotional blackmail is like trying to drain a post Katrina New Orleans with a teaspoon. They're simply too good at it, and I'm simply too Indian and too Catholic to be able to withstand that tempest. Which is why I am dreading the thought of having to explain to them that a mere 7 years after we picked up and left India, I want to pick up again and move away - thereby "abandoning" them.

Fortunately, I don't have to have this discussion until February and who knows, it may not even end up being a hot topic.....

So, I'll just go back to raking leaves and this time think about something less volatile - the War on Terror, the current state of the Economy and Global Warming are all happy thoughts in comparison.

Why did I have a 2 day headache, you ask?

Not just yet, Miss!
In an effort to speed up the process of getting me a refund on the purchase of my Zoom tickets, Amex had asked me to fill out some paperwork and send it to them. There were 2 purchases - one for $704, the other for $148. I filled out all the paperwork and sent it back.
Yesterday, I get a letter to confirm that $148 will be shortly credited to my account. When I called to ask about the other $704 I was told that I have to fill out a whole other set of forms.
Gah!


Say WHAT??!!!
Got an email from a gym that I used to be a member at telling me that I owe them $701 in unpaid dues. Apparently they never filed the paperwork from when I cancelled my membership last April. I'll be damned if I have to pay for someone else's mistake.

Sweet Baby Jesus, give me strength
My colleague was on vacation and I had to man the general info email. Copy of actual email trail.

Email 1:
Dear Sir,
I forgot my password. I cannot login to the website. Could you please email me a new password.
Thanks,

My response: Your password has been reset to XXXX.

Email 2:
Hi, Even with the new password I cannot log in to the website. It's appeared that I am not registered with the program. Kindly resolve this
Thanks,

My response: Are you sure you went to the correct website? You are registered with program ABC. If you go to the website for program XYZ, it will not let you in. You need to go to http://www.abc.ca/
Regards etc.

Email 3: Yes. I went to the website for program XYZ. Then I clicked on log on. And I put my email address as user name and XXXX as the password. (Which you sent right now.)But it's not working. I cannot log in.

Me: Repeated thumping of head against cubicle wall. Did not help the headache.

This Ain't So Bad Afterall!

I came home from a particularly bad day week at work trying to deal with a headache that had lasted 2 days straight. I turned on the TV to watch the evening news, fully expecting to hear more bad things. Instead, I saw this.

And even though it made me cry, (yes - I know. Utter sap) I thought, with all of the crap news that's being going around of late, this seemed to be the perfect time to share some good.


Enjoy!

How to Get into My Pants

A problem that has been plaguing me for some years now. 2006 was the year of the expanding waistline and in 6 months I had put on more weight than I had in the past 5 years previously. Quite the record I would say.

Thanks to a combination of illness which forced a change in diet (no oily and fried foods AT ALL)
+ added impetus of Best Friend's Wedding and the fact that I had to wear a DRESS
+ additional exercise through dancing 3 times a week

= Me getting into a pair of pants that have not gotten past my knees in 3 years!!!

Hip Hip Hurrah!!!!

Happy Bunny Thought for the Month

Love, Forever True

While pondering thoughts of relationships and love and such, I think it would be a good time to mention that my Papa and Nana celebrated their 63rd wedding anniversary on the 1st of this month. When asked what he gave his wife as a present, Papa replied "Myself. Isn't that enough?"

How true!

Happy Anniversary Nana and Papa. You are an inspiration to us all.

Mr. and Mrs. M on their wedding day. September 1 1945

Celebrating 50 years of togetherness. Sept 1 1995

At home in Bombay. January 2007

Techinicolour Dreamcoats

Last night, I attended the Jays game with my colleagues as one of our Boardmembers hosted us in their Corporate Box. Although it was an eventful evening - extra innings, schoomzing with Boardmembers and Key Clients, dealing with rather tipsy colleague while trying to maintain professional face, and almost missing last bus home - the real excitment of the night actually began after I got home and got to bed.... and got dreaming. A rather strange story unfolded and even though I woke up twice, the dream persisted.

I dreamed that I was on a winter vacation with some friends. It looked like 3 couples and I vacationing together and we were driving to what looked like a winter cabin. My "date" wasn't in the car. The friends (who I didn't know btw) said that he was meeting me there. When we got there, The Ex was waiting. After we checked in, everyone else went off to do something or the other and The Ex and I were left in our room. I don't remember quite what was happening, I just know that I was feeling weird and uncomfortable and totally uneasy. The Ex seemed to be behaving in typical Ex manner and went about as if we were still dating.

At some point, the "friends" called out that they were going off somewhere and that we should join them. As The Ex started to make his way out the door, I turned to him and said something to the effect of "You shouldn't be here. This is wrong. I don't want you here." I then proceeded to turn away from him and and walked away. (very poignantly, I might add into the snow covered trail) I don't remember if there was anything else. It actually doesn't matter.

Cross my heart, there is a point to this rather round about narration.

I met someone on my holiday.

A rather VERY nice someone who appears to return the favour and like me and be just as interested in me as I am in him. We spent a great deal of time together and when I left, it was decided that we would try our hand at a long distance relationship.

Although I've just been sublimely happy these past 2 weeks since I met him, there's been a little nagging fear at that back of my head. I kept wondering if I was mistaking happiness for a relief from loneliness. He makes me the happiest I have been in a long while, but it was not so long ago that I was still wrapped up in my feelings for The Ex and I wondered if what I was feeling was not exactly correct. Yes, I know that my relationship with The Ex ended last year, but I never ever said I was logical!

It sounds silly, but although I spent a rather sleepless night tossing and turning trying to get that dream out of my head, I'm glad it happened. Call me a kook,(and you're probably doing so right now!) but I know better than to discount my dreams. And anyway, I think is a good sign that my dream self categorically told dream The Ex to "bugger off" and more importantly dream self turned her back on him and walked away.

So really, in spite of tossy-turney night (and consequently dark baggy eyes today), I loved my dream and more importantly feel its OK to allow myself to feel loved again.
OK everyone, feel free to commence laughing at me..................NOW!

GAH to the nth degree

We got onto the flight in Glasgow and taxied onto the runway. Waited on the runway for 45 mins. Got called back to the gate. Got held at the gate for 2.5 hrs (with everyone still inside in their seats)

Left Glasgow at 7pm local time

Got into Philly at about 11pm

Had to clear customs and immigration get baggage. (1 hr)

Got shuttled to hotel + information from US Airlines staff (1.5 hrs)

Had to wait in line (again) to check in (1 hr)

Got to sleep (2 hrs)

Back to the airport

Caught 8:30 am flight to Toronto

Dada picked me up from airport and took my bags home

I went downtown to work

Got to work 11am

Went straight into a meeting

Just got out of meeting.

Thoughts on a Wedding

As I sat by watching my oldest friend getting her bridal hair and make up done, I knew this was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life. Watching her, I was reminded of our very first meeting - the first day of school back in grade 1.

I remember my mum taking me up to my classroom. When I got to the classroom, I was faced with a room full of bawling girls. (it was an all girls convent school). This was rather perturbing as I couldn't quite figure out why everyone was crying. I was only too happy to going to a "big girl's school", the same one two of my older cousins attended. Suddenly, I didn't want to be left behind in a room full of emotional girls (something I'm still not comfortable with). My mum asked me where I wanted to sit and as I glanced about the room I spotted the only other girl NOT crying. "Her" I said, "I'll sit with her." That girl turned out to be Very Best Friend and we've been partners of sorts for the past 22 years.

The hairdresser asks me a question, and my thoughts snap back to the present. The chaos, anxiety, stress and drama that is the mandatory accompaniment to all weddings have settled down into a dull haze. With just a few hours to go until the ceremony we've done all that needs doing and can only hope that things will go well.

I wondered what I would feel as I watch my Very Best Friend walk down that aisle and take her new partner's hand. As she repeats her vows she will forever be bound to him and his life and on some level, she and I will never share the same sort of friendship ever again. Even as I rejoice in her happiness and that I know that her fiancé is a wonderful man who will make her very happy, I cannot but help feel a twinge of regret as I see a chapter of my life close forever. My friend will be stepping through the gates into a new world, and I will be unable to follow.

Happy Thought? Who has the time???

Just in case you were looking forward to seeing the September version of Happy Bunny's Thought for this month, you're going to have to wait a bit until this wedding-schmedding is all done. Life has been quite crazy these past 3 days since arriving in Glasgow. Very Best Friend is at her wits end as Hapless fiancé continues to bumble through life happily to do half of what he must.

VBF and I have taken God knows how many trips all around the city. We have been finalizing the catering, programming the church music, proofing, printing and compiling the church programs, meeting the hairdresser, coordinating with the ushers, picking up random necessary objects from VBF's home and bringing them to the city centre where we (her family and I) are staying, packing and wrapping the wedding favours, meeting with the church manager, organizing dinner so that the two families can finally meet AND coordinating with VBF's friends to throw her a surprise bridal shower/party tomorrow night. I'm sure I've left out some things, but you get the general idea.

I'm beat.

BUT - I have a GREAT dress and it will all be worth the while!

Nurse, more suction please!

The recent drama over my plane ticket almost made me forgot about the ORIGINAL wedding drama – that of DRESS! The story is too good to leave unfinished, so here is the final (I hope) chapter in the saga of being a suitably clad bridesmaid.

Some weeks after the initial meeting with the Dressmaker, she called back to let me know that she’d like me to come in for a fitting. I was instructed to bring along the undergarments I would be wearing. Shopaholic had been raving about this supposedly miracle control underwear – that Oprah herself wore – and persuaded me to buy a pair. $50 later, I found myself wondering if this honestly did what the salesgirl, Shopaholic and of course Oprah said it would do – take whole inches off your waistline and in other places. And if so, why on earth aren’t more people talking about this?

I got to the Dressmaker’s and there it was – THE DRESS! In all its beautiful purple Maid of Honorish splendor and glory.

Dressmaker snapped me out of my reverie and shooed me off into the washroom to change my underclothes. As I pulled the Spanx underwear out of the package a glimmer of doubt rose up. I held up the garment. It was – and I exaggerate not – the size of a bikini bottom. Kate Moss’s bikini bottom. Ah, well. Here goes nothing I though. I stepped into the left leg and then stretching the top I stepped into the right.

*WHAM*. My knees snapped together with the force of the elastic and over I went. I grabbed on to the first thing that made contact with my desperately flailing hand. That happened to be the shower curtain! Down I went with a resounding crash, knock kneed with Spanx underwear around my ankles and Dressmaker’s shower curtain and rod over my head.

Silence.

Then, scurrying feet and an anxious tap on the door and Dressmaker voice (in a very high register) asking if everything was ok?

I move gingerly. My head hurts from where I slammed it against the wall. My shoulder is sore as I have probably wrenched it. And my knees are still bound together by the seemingly super-elastic on the underwear.

I struggle to my feet and reassure Dressmaker that I am still alive (I can’t say the same for her curtain rod). Once upright, I brace myself and start to pull up the underpants. Slowly, painfully and with much grunting I get the panties up as high as I can. By now, I’m sweating profusely and I’m so hot that the mirror is fogging up.

I finally get out of the washroom to find anxious Dressmaker waiting in the hall. She peers past me to survey the damage. I’m trying to maintain my dignity here, but it is quite hard to do wearing nothing but a bra and control underwear. “I’m so very sorry,” I say. “I’ll pay for the damage.” Dressmaker smiles. “Honey, don’t you fret over that ugly mess of a shower curtain. I’ve been trying to get my husband to redo the washroom for YEARS. Now he’ll have to! You’ve just gone and done what I’ve been meaning to do for a long time.”

Well !

Dressmaker ushers me into the fitting room and chats away like nothing is more common that having someone wreck your washroom while trying on underwear. I’m too flabbergast to speak (yup, there’s a new scenario for those who know me) and meekly follow her directions re getting the dress on. As I’m about to step into the dress, she stops me. Stepping onto her little dressmaker stool, she reaches down and firmly grasps the sides of the underwear that are sitting just under my bust line and YANKS. I can’t but help let out a gasp as suddenly everything shifts and magically I have a waist!
Somehow the underwear has redistributed my fat so that I now have all the curves possible, but sans the fat rolls! Amazing! WHERE all the lard has gone, I’m not sure. But it sure is well hidden. So mesmerized am I that I have to be reminded to put my dress on, and when I do – whoa, I’m so impressed! The pattern makes all of my sins (and I have a lot of those) vanish and leaves me with all of the “good bits”.

As I twirled around the room in delight, I realized that I was finally at the end of this saga that began a distant 8 months ago. Although I will miss my daily prayer of, “Please Lord, deliver me from this evil” I am so happy to know that at last, I am a card carrying member of the Club of the Suitably Clad!

Amen.

An Explanation

I really think I should explain about the sudden need to password protect this blog and answer all the questions/comments that have followed. Who knew so many cared? Hell, who knew so many READ!

I've wanted to start a dedicated travel blog for sometime now. I'm always flitting about discovering new places and the idea of having a dedicated space to chronicling my travel adventures. The last time I went away on my mega 4 month journey, a lot of friends and family followed by daily discoveries via the blog. However, I wasn't quite sure I wanted (certain) people to have access to the blog on a regular basis. Some things I write about are NOT for certain eyes (read- family) and hence the need to go password protected.

But somehow (being the technically challenged wonder that I am), I screwed up the log in process and now the wrong email is associated with this account and for the life of me I cannot figure out how to reverse that!


Anyway, thank you for being patient while I figure all this out and I hope you like the new travel blog as well!

Not Very F*cked Anymore. Only Slightly.

So, after a whole morning of frantically calling around to various airlines, travel agents and people I know in the airline biz and scouring the Internet for any and all routes to Glasgow*, I was finally able to secure new tickets for my trip on US Airways. And I didn't quite have to pay with my first born and/or my right kidney, although the price is a whopping $400 more than what I initially paid. Ah, well. Guess that means not as many pints in Scotland!

Also, the credit card company has assured me that I will be getting my money back; it may just take a while to process and it seems like I have to turn in a bunch of supporting documents and paperwork for the same. But I will get it back. Eventually.

Now, let's just hope that nothing else falls apart between now and the wedding!



*At one point I even found a ticket to Edinburgh via Gibraltar for $900! Was tempted, but the return flights were for the wrong dates.

F*cked. So Very F.*.C.K.E.D

Found out this morning that all Zoom flights have been grounded due to outstanding fees. Although the airline has not *yet* filed for bankruptcy, it's just a matter of time.


My ticket to Glasgow for Very Best Friend's wedding was booked on Zoom. As soon as I found out what was happening, I called the travel agent.


The travel agent said to call the credit card company.

The credit card company says their waiting for further information from the airline.

My backup travel agent says that all flights for that period are sold out.

The flights that are not sold out are priced at over $2000.


I am utterly and miserably - F*CKED. 

Head's Up

To my faithful reader(s?)

I will be shortly switching this blog to being password protected as I need to add in a travel blog under the same profile. It will be one more step for you all, but I hope you will keep visiting and reading!

Update:
I figured out how to "add a blog" to my username, but I just realized that I cannot change the profile information. I guess I'll have to create a whole new username/password etc for the travel blog. Which is a pain, but I guess cannot be helped.

Blogger peeps, why can't I have 2 blogs with different profile information under the same username?

New Friends

I just love it when I am able to "discover" new things about this city. A few days ago I chanced upon a darling little second hand bookstore on Bloor - Seeker's Books @ 509 Bloor St. West. After spending a delightful 2.5 hours lost among the rows of shelves, I came away with these new friends:

The Colour Purple

July was drawing to a close and I still didn’t have a dress. A feverish desperation had taken over. Every time I passed a store window and saw even a glimmer of purple, I would throw myself against the glass willing it to be something that I could wear. I even tried to make an appointment at a bridal store, but the price tags on the dresses made me abandon that idea in a hurry. Then, just when I thought I was going to walk down that aisle in a purple dyed burlap sac, one of my cousins told me about this amazing (and relatively inexpensive) dressmaker who lived right by my house. Helpful Cousin was nice enough to call said dressmaker (a.k.a The Saviour) to make me an appointment and then was even nicer and agreed to go with me.

Helpful Cousin suggested that I go scout for fabrics before I meet the Dressmaker so that I would have sample swatches to show her. A quick call to friend, Shutterbug confirms that the best place for fabrics is Queen West. Shutterbug even offers to accompany me.

At this point I realize that not one person I know is confident in my ability to pick out a dress, a pattern or even a roll of cloth that will eventually be the dress. They are right of course, but it does sting to know that one is not trusted with fashion decisions. On the other hand, it does feel wonderful to know that my friends all have my back and just don’t want me to embarrass myself with having to wear a purple dyed burlap sac.

Confident that I will be able to just LOOK at fabric myself, I wave away her offer and the following day check out the fabric stores at Queen West. When I get there, I am a little alarmed by how MANY stores there are, all with seemingly never ending rolls of fabric in every hue and colour in the rainbow. Not quite sure of how one actually goes about buying fabric for a bridesmaid dress I stumble into the first store I see (tripping on the golden lab asleep on the steps) and trust the pattern into the hands of the shop assistant. “Help!” I squeak. “Make Dress. Need Fabric.” She wanders around the store for a bit and returns with a purple satinish fabric. I ask her for a sample and march out 10 minutes later marveling at my superior fabric choosing capabilities!

It’s not until I get home and compare the sample to the online pictures of the kilts do I realize that I have chosen an entirely WRONG shade of purple!

After banging my head repeatedly against a handy wall, I call Shutterbug and in a very small (and VERY humble) voice ask her to please accompany me to the fabric stores as I am obviously not capable of this task. So, accordingly, Shutterbug and I headed over to Queen West the following Saturday. She has come prepared with a colour palate for comparison that has the correct shade of purple, and then a scale of shades darker and lighter. When we get to the first store, Shutterbug sits me down at the counter and proceeds to explain to girl-behind-the-counter what we’re looking for using phrases like “overlay of chiffon” and “muted tones for best effect”. I am suitably impressed. Shutterbug is just as picky over the fabric as Shopaholic is with the finished product. The shop girl pulls out yards and yards of all kinds of fabrics in all hues of purple. Shutterbug expertly sifts through them all and finally selects some and asks for samples. We then go to 3 more shops and do the same thing all over again. In each shop, it is implied that I sit quietly in the corner and not touch anything. Finally, Shutterbug determines that we have enough sample and we leave.

Two days later, accompanied by Helpful Cousin I go to meet with the Dressmaker - who turns out to be the Dressmaker of my dreams! She patiently listens to my garbled descriptions of what I want and somehow pieces together a pattern that will be good for me. I leave with a renewed lease on life. In two short weeks, I will be dressless no more!