Saturday was R’s official birthday barbeque. And this year, we decided to veer away from hard core poultry as the main entrée and spiced things up with assorted kabobs. While it was our virgin run with the skewers from hell, it was surprisingly easier to maneuver around them.
S introduced me to this mega-chinese grocery store T&T, which was stocked with all the things necessary to have a good wholesome meal on the cheap. The girls got dresses for this most spectacular event and we readied ourselves for a backyard fete.
Needless to say, all great days are punctuated with moments of distress. My beloved M got into a tiny little fender bender that left him and his mom straight but his car most definitely bent. Hence, aunty decided to bow out of the celebratory night to calm her frazzled nerves down. I’m glad they’re okay. Righteously, karma has a way of playing horror in sets of three – the trinity of ill will, you could say. B (R’s British man) also got into a couple spills – totaling his audi and making way for a new one. Looks like the boys will be pimping new rides this fall – all three of em. M/R/B – nice one guys!
Tia actually showed up this time which I was absolutely tickled pink about because with the baby she’s playing a whole different ball game. One that involves strollers, baby bags, books, and all the appendages that seem to be vital for the little one. R is soooo adorable. Her little chubbalicious arms, her vivacious laugh, her ear-splitting cries – it was all joy. J brought along some jerk chicken and exposed a few of our guests to a fan-taste-ic experience. Unfortunately, due to no fault of their own, they only brought enough chicken to feed a few. Leaving the many, me included, salivating at the mouth every time the story of the carib-tamil poultry was mentioned.
S&Magic – wowzers. Mr & Mrs. Finally. I expected a huge difference – something that screamed out “look guys, we’ve changed” but thankfully, nothing has changed at all. Except for sharing the same destination, they’re both exactly the people they were before they became one. I’m overjoyed. They came, infused tones of life into the celebration and filled the house with joy. That’s usually the norm with those kids – they make certain that everyone is comfortable and having fun. Magic joined the familial unit a while ago and was discovered purely accidentally. And now, with the recent developments of international love affairs, the possibility of S becoming family is also very real. I can’t wait. I absolutely adore this couple – singularly and in their purest plural form.
My cousins showed up as well. A decision that we were wary of initially considering that we rarely make the effort to extend our hands in friendship. They’re great people and came out in good spirits. R was excited. And it was definitely a good time.
R’s R brought along a couple of his friends as well. The booze overflowed leading to much debaucherous verbiage, People bonded over Ballantines and Blue. I swear he’s the poster child for drinking too much too soon. And his determined behavior only makes it that much harder to keep our sanity alive. As always, R decided to live it up and act a fool. I’m just glad he did it in the company that was there that night. He got home safe, in one piece and happy. And at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.
And then of course, my folks. As they age, I find them beginning to embrace all things collegial. They love having people over. Especially Tia & the baby, S& Magic – they absolutely adore it. I looked at my dad holding Tia’s little one and something tugged somewhere in the vicinity of my chest as I realized how lovely they both looked. Experience met innocence and a new connection was born. Dad’s smartly aged hands holding the super-soft bubblicious baby was too much to bear. I promise you dad, at some point, one of us (S is included in the us) will have one. And he/she will be all yours.
All in all, another well spent night. The food was awesome. B was missed, tremendously. He was there through the phone waves – enlightening us about the practices and etiquette of barbequing. And as he so eloquently suggested – a winter barbeque is definitely in the making.
For one moment in my life, I stepped off my annoying self and observed my familial unit. We’re blessed. So blessed to be surrounded by people – born with and hand picked- who emanate genuine goodness. People that you can count on at the best of times and the worst of times. People that don’t need shout outs because they will always know exactly how much they matter to each other. People who will be bound for life and blanketed by memories quilted collectively. I am so lucky…
And maybe some of that luck will rub off on me today. The agency is having an off-site golf day. 12 hours of bonding on a golf course. Sounds like fun? Sure it does. Until you factor all the golfing into the equation.
A review will follow – at some point in the near future.
Be blessed.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Unpredictable air travel
R was scheduled to arrive from her sojourn in London at 2:30pm yesterday. And she would’ve too except for the slight mishap that befell her aircraft. Skyservices aircraft number 211 was derailed (the term of their choice) due to mechanical difficulties. The god damn mammoth of an aircraft was leaking oil and much like a pre-pubescent girl dealing with her first bout of woman-hood, it needed a mutha-effin time out. So R found herself, her 3 pieces of luggage and her fellow passengers stranded in Halifax.
The land of umm fish? I’m not sure. Because well, I’m largely ignorant and quite okay with that.
So she finally got into pearson at 11:45pm. I swear this must’ve been the world’s longest flight. Afterall she left Heathrow at 10 am her time (well their time). And she seems happy. Different. Mature. Calmer. As if somehow she stumbled upon a realization that made her more comfortable in her skin.
I’m ecstatic for her. Actually, that’s an understatement. I am over-joyed, over-the-moon, over- the- infinitesimal- universe. I realized quite a few things when she was gone – so perhaps this was a necessary break for all of us. Here are things I hope I don’t forget in a hurry:
• She is so precious – her insides emanate this intense sense of goodness – and yet, we tend to harp about all that isn’t well.
• We are so selfish. We seem to appease ourselves with the knowledge that she’s broken and hence we don’t treat her with the same honesty that we treat each other.
• We (R&I) expect her to live up to our expectations. When in reality, we have no right to expect that of anyone. Yet, we do. Time and time again, we judge and perceive people on our scale of morality/intelligence and superficiality.
• We are lucky to have her – and we suck for not knowing how to be there for her. (im such a hypocrite - i'm all about living life on my own terms yet, i have a hard time letting her do the same - pathetic)
• And perhaps, just perhaps, we’ve casted her as the “broken” one thereby trying to make ourselves look and feel better.
Siblings – joyful innit?
I’m sorry R.
For all the times when I slapped you down unknowingly.
For all the times I wasn’t 110% honest with you.
For all the times I assumed you couldn’t handle the truth.
For all the times I treated you like you were a baby.
For all the times I expected you to live your life on my terms.
For all the times I sheltered myself under the pretense of sheltering you.
For all the times my heathen lips spewed hateful words.
For all the times I’ve felt sympathy as opposed to empathy.
For all the times I chose not to walk in your shoes.
For all the times I didn’t give you my hand to hold on to.
And most of all,
For all the moments I missed by being a pig headed brute.
And if you will still have R&me as your friends – we'd love to take another shot at it.
And this time, we promise to get it right and do right by you.
Gosh, Im glad she’s home.
The trinity is once again complete.
Malfunctioning at times but complete nevertheless.
Peace.
The land of umm fish? I’m not sure. Because well, I’m largely ignorant and quite okay with that.
So she finally got into pearson at 11:45pm. I swear this must’ve been the world’s longest flight. Afterall she left Heathrow at 10 am her time (well their time). And she seems happy. Different. Mature. Calmer. As if somehow she stumbled upon a realization that made her more comfortable in her skin.
I’m ecstatic for her. Actually, that’s an understatement. I am over-joyed, over-the-moon, over- the- infinitesimal- universe. I realized quite a few things when she was gone – so perhaps this was a necessary break for all of us. Here are things I hope I don’t forget in a hurry:
• She is so precious – her insides emanate this intense sense of goodness – and yet, we tend to harp about all that isn’t well.
• We are so selfish. We seem to appease ourselves with the knowledge that she’s broken and hence we don’t treat her with the same honesty that we treat each other.
• We (R&I) expect her to live up to our expectations. When in reality, we have no right to expect that of anyone. Yet, we do. Time and time again, we judge and perceive people on our scale of morality/intelligence and superficiality.
• We are lucky to have her – and we suck for not knowing how to be there for her. (im such a hypocrite - i'm all about living life on my own terms yet, i have a hard time letting her do the same - pathetic)
• And perhaps, just perhaps, we’ve casted her as the “broken” one thereby trying to make ourselves look and feel better.
Siblings – joyful innit?
I’m sorry R.
For all the times when I slapped you down unknowingly.
For all the times I wasn’t 110% honest with you.
For all the times I assumed you couldn’t handle the truth.
For all the times I treated you like you were a baby.
For all the times I expected you to live your life on my terms.
For all the times I sheltered myself under the pretense of sheltering you.
For all the times my heathen lips spewed hateful words.
For all the times I’ve felt sympathy as opposed to empathy.
For all the times I chose not to walk in your shoes.
For all the times I didn’t give you my hand to hold on to.
And most of all,
For all the moments I missed by being a pig headed brute.
And if you will still have R&me as your friends – we'd love to take another shot at it.
And this time, we promise to get it right and do right by you.
Gosh, Im glad she’s home.
The trinity is once again complete.
Malfunctioning at times but complete nevertheless.
Peace.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Fred’s not here.
But we were.
( I wonder if I’m ever going to surpass the urge for cheese)
The group convened to celebrate Summerlicious at Fred’s on King West. The food was debatable – depending on what you ordered it was either off the hook or barely palatable.
Our loud and rowdy chatter filled the cozy restaurant and build an impenetrable bubble around our table of 9. Everyone showed up!
Snippets of our night:
• Shopping at H&M with P&S – fun as always. P lingered in the lingerie section for much longer than what’s considered normal. Hot date? We think so. A mysterious one at that. I invested in a pair of comfy jelly pink flips to commemorate our trek back to king west.
• Timmies with the crew. M looked adorable – she was all fit and tings – and flaunting it too – good on her. C was as he always is – calm, cool and collected – after all we hadn’t gotten to the food part yet. D looked nice as always – god, I haven’t seen her in ages. N&J joined us part ways and the group was almost complete except for M – busy man/busy life.
• Conversations regarding rings and weddings: P is right – a big rock comes with a big commitment – what if I lost it? I’ve decided (and declaring it at this point) that I’m going to let M figure it out on his own. After all, that’s the way it should be. I’m sure he’ll do right by me – but honestly, if the boy was to propose with a ring pop – I’d still seriously consider saying yes. So alls well. After all, he’s got a lifetime of opportunities.
• Weddings: D has decided not to join L&T at their reception. Grrr. That leaves me with the task of making new friends. Thanks buddy! My own wedding: will most definitely be after M&C’s – just so that P&S don’t feel the need to pick and choose. I plan on inviting you guys u know – to everything.
• Clearing up Oct 24 2004: My incognito birthday. The reason I didn’t make a big deal about it was simply because I was unemployed – feeling down and dumpy and not really looking forward to celebrating my “funk”. That’s all. It wasn’t a personal diss, a pimp slap, a declaration of acquaintance-ship that belies the friendships I’ve built with them – it was just me needing to be alone. Now this year on the other hand, everyone is invited – if they still want to come that is.
• Last night on the train I discovered that P&S might not attend my possible wedding that might possibly happen if I ever possibly get proposed to. I hope they were joking cuz quite frankly, I’d want them to – be there.
Wee. Apart from that. M& I drove home in the sweltering humidity. Briefly hugged as my mom watched us from her bedroom window and ended the night with a tame kiss on the cheek.
I hope everyone had a good time. Because I know that I did.
( I wonder if I’m ever going to surpass the urge for cheese)
The group convened to celebrate Summerlicious at Fred’s on King West. The food was debatable – depending on what you ordered it was either off the hook or barely palatable.
Our loud and rowdy chatter filled the cozy restaurant and build an impenetrable bubble around our table of 9. Everyone showed up!
Snippets of our night:
• Shopping at H&M with P&S – fun as always. P lingered in the lingerie section for much longer than what’s considered normal. Hot date? We think so. A mysterious one at that. I invested in a pair of comfy jelly pink flips to commemorate our trek back to king west.
• Timmies with the crew. M looked adorable – she was all fit and tings – and flaunting it too – good on her. C was as he always is – calm, cool and collected – after all we hadn’t gotten to the food part yet. D looked nice as always – god, I haven’t seen her in ages. N&J joined us part ways and the group was almost complete except for M – busy man/busy life.
• Conversations regarding rings and weddings: P is right – a big rock comes with a big commitment – what if I lost it? I’ve decided (and declaring it at this point) that I’m going to let M figure it out on his own. After all, that’s the way it should be. I’m sure he’ll do right by me – but honestly, if the boy was to propose with a ring pop – I’d still seriously consider saying yes. So alls well. After all, he’s got a lifetime of opportunities.
• Weddings: D has decided not to join L&T at their reception. Grrr. That leaves me with the task of making new friends. Thanks buddy! My own wedding: will most definitely be after M&C’s – just so that P&S don’t feel the need to pick and choose. I plan on inviting you guys u know – to everything.
• Clearing up Oct 24 2004: My incognito birthday. The reason I didn’t make a big deal about it was simply because I was unemployed – feeling down and dumpy and not really looking forward to celebrating my “funk”. That’s all. It wasn’t a personal diss, a pimp slap, a declaration of acquaintance-ship that belies the friendships I’ve built with them – it was just me needing to be alone. Now this year on the other hand, everyone is invited – if they still want to come that is.
• Last night on the train I discovered that P&S might not attend my possible wedding that might possibly happen if I ever possibly get proposed to. I hope they were joking cuz quite frankly, I’d want them to – be there.
Wee. Apart from that. M& I drove home in the sweltering humidity. Briefly hugged as my mom watched us from her bedroom window and ended the night with a tame kiss on the cheek.
I hope everyone had a good time. Because I know that I did.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Ho-Lee!
One would imagine that having a condition is laborious.
One imagines wrong.
This condition of mine surpasses hard work.
It also left self control crying like a little pu**y.
Come to think of it, it even made good intentions hit the road.
I’ve succumbed to my horrific reality.
I.AM. BROKEN
And whilst it took me years to beget this disease
And make it fully ownable.
I only owe it the respect to say it will take much longer
Than 3 months to fix it.
It is fixable. (right?)
I promise to be patient.
And tolerant of my short comings.
I can’t control everything.
And once again, it hurts like bleepin hell to realize that.
What I can do however
Is to not give up on myself.
Right.
There it is again.
Faith in the guise of medusa
Each serpent hairline yet another hurdle
Another test
Another truth to unfurl my precious balance.
R spewed profound philosophies on our way home.
According to her:
The androgynous being that lays awake amongst clouds
Likes to pepper human lives with miniature hurdles
Creating his own miniature-obstacle course
And we are merely the pawns in this game.
Hence, when one thing is going well – really really well
Something else breaks
Nothing is stable. Nothing stays the same.
And that’s what we have to learn to take comfort in.
Everything changes. Which gives us fickle minded people a chance to react to each situation individually.
She’s so smart.
And so right.
Looking back in the past year.
I stressed over a job – that was my issue.
That got resolved.
Then I stressed over my man – that was another make believe issue
That got resolved.
I found a moment of joy.
Foolishly assumed it would stretch into a lifetime.
That got dissolved.
I found the dormant beast that lives inside me
And that’s my newest struggle.
Pattern: shit happens and then you learn to deal with it.
Hence, right now, the future looks fixable.
Amen.
One imagines wrong.
This condition of mine surpasses hard work.
It also left self control crying like a little pu**y.
Come to think of it, it even made good intentions hit the road.
I’ve succumbed to my horrific reality.
I.AM. BROKEN
And whilst it took me years to beget this disease
And make it fully ownable.
I only owe it the respect to say it will take much longer
Than 3 months to fix it.
It is fixable. (right?)
I promise to be patient.
And tolerant of my short comings.
I can’t control everything.
And once again, it hurts like bleepin hell to realize that.
What I can do however
Is to not give up on myself.
Right.
There it is again.
Faith in the guise of medusa
Each serpent hairline yet another hurdle
Another test
Another truth to unfurl my precious balance.
R spewed profound philosophies on our way home.
According to her:
The androgynous being that lays awake amongst clouds
Likes to pepper human lives with miniature hurdles
Creating his own miniature-obstacle course
And we are merely the pawns in this game.
Hence, when one thing is going well – really really well
Something else breaks
Nothing is stable. Nothing stays the same.
And that’s what we have to learn to take comfort in.
Everything changes. Which gives us fickle minded people a chance to react to each situation individually.
She’s so smart.
And so right.
Looking back in the past year.
I stressed over a job – that was my issue.
That got resolved.
Then I stressed over my man – that was another make believe issue
That got resolved.
I found a moment of joy.
Foolishly assumed it would stretch into a lifetime.
That got dissolved.
I found the dormant beast that lives inside me
And that’s my newest struggle.
Pattern: shit happens and then you learn to deal with it.
Hence, right now, the future looks fixable.
Amen.
Monday, July 11, 2005
17.3
a random number or the bane of my existence?
Unfortunately, the latter.
As a stickler for all things that reek of academia – today, I embarked on a brand new type of edumacation. The sugar-free variety. Well, that was my first thought – sadly, the second, third and fourth one – didn’t do it justice.
Course - Intro to diabetes: How to manage your diabetes
First thought: nice. Information. I can finally join the living – maybe learn some tips on sneaking sugar into my diet. Shhhh jana. You don’t want people to figure it out.
Second thought: umm 6 classes? Word. By the end of it – I will be a mutha-effin guru.
Third thought: Self administered glucose test. Huh. Now what do they mean by self administered? And what kind of a test needs administration? Huh.
Fourth thought: perforate my own skin with a lancet and then squeezing out a sizable droplet of blood many times a day!!!!!! Please, tell me that biatch is on crack!
ARGH. No such luck.
Yea. Three picks later I discovered that nothing is working.
And believe it or not, that’s quite the humbling experience.
I’ve been eating right (99.9% of the time – god promise)
I’ve been working out at least 4 times a week with daily scheduled walks and everything – no word of a lie.
I’ve been diligently taking my meds – obsessively.
And my blood sugar is at 17.3
That’s 1.3 points higher than it was.
I feel helpless.
Powerless.
Out of control.
I need someone to guide me on this course because this journey just got infinitely harder.
And all I ate this morning was HALF a multigrain bagel.
The reality is slowly but surely seeping into my brain matter. I might have to give myself insulin shots. However, before I jump into the jana-routine and pronounce myself prematurely dead – I’m going to stick it out for the next two weeks – and then ask my family doctor to switch my meds – something stronger perhaps.
I’m falling apart.
And while my brain comes to terms with more schooling in September for my diabolical disease – my finger throbs with the threat of frequent “self administered” piercing.
A self inflicted punishment for all the naughty things my fingers have been part of. I knew I should’ve read the fine print before I accepted this body.
Excuse me mister, this one is broken – it don’t work so hot. Can I get another one?
Mister?
No answer. No surprise. The heavens above rarely open up to resolve their boo-boos.
Woo-hoo.
I’m so lucky.
I get to endure a lifetime of subdued stings.
To feel like a cork board…now, I know I am truly blessed.
Unfortunately, the latter.
As a stickler for all things that reek of academia – today, I embarked on a brand new type of edumacation. The sugar-free variety. Well, that was my first thought – sadly, the second, third and fourth one – didn’t do it justice.
Course - Intro to diabetes: How to manage your diabetes
First thought: nice. Information. I can finally join the living – maybe learn some tips on sneaking sugar into my diet. Shhhh jana. You don’t want people to figure it out.
Second thought: umm 6 classes? Word. By the end of it – I will be a mutha-effin guru.
Third thought: Self administered glucose test. Huh. Now what do they mean by self administered? And what kind of a test needs administration? Huh.
Fourth thought: perforate my own skin with a lancet and then squeezing out a sizable droplet of blood many times a day!!!!!! Please, tell me that biatch is on crack!
ARGH. No such luck.
Yea. Three picks later I discovered that nothing is working.
And believe it or not, that’s quite the humbling experience.
I’ve been eating right (99.9% of the time – god promise)
I’ve been working out at least 4 times a week with daily scheduled walks and everything – no word of a lie.
I’ve been diligently taking my meds – obsessively.
And my blood sugar is at 17.3
That’s 1.3 points higher than it was.
I feel helpless.
Powerless.
Out of control.
I need someone to guide me on this course because this journey just got infinitely harder.
And all I ate this morning was HALF a multigrain bagel.
The reality is slowly but surely seeping into my brain matter. I might have to give myself insulin shots. However, before I jump into the jana-routine and pronounce myself prematurely dead – I’m going to stick it out for the next two weeks – and then ask my family doctor to switch my meds – something stronger perhaps.
I’m falling apart.
And while my brain comes to terms with more schooling in September for my diabolical disease – my finger throbs with the threat of frequent “self administered” piercing.
A self inflicted punishment for all the naughty things my fingers have been part of. I knew I should’ve read the fine print before I accepted this body.
Excuse me mister, this one is broken – it don’t work so hot. Can I get another one?
Mister?
No answer. No surprise. The heavens above rarely open up to resolve their boo-boos.
Woo-hoo.
I’m so lucky.
I get to endure a lifetime of subdued stings.
To feel like a cork board…now, I know I am truly blessed.
Wedged between smoldering days
Was an unflappable and totally chillaxed weekend.
Friday: M was in a end of the week funk. A little bit of shopping therapy polished his waning veneer and presto! He was born anew. He’s absolutely precious when he’s sulky and even more adorable when he’s not. He scored a pair of casual black metro-esque shoes at Bata for under $40 and jeans from Roots for less than $20. Go figure – the boy has the best retail luck that I’ve ever known an XY to have. He also bought me july’s gift (yes, im spoilt rotten – my super-duper fly man buys me a present every month- go ahead, I won’t begrudge you the drool factor) – 2 pairs of hot pants from La Senza – another great buy.
Saturday: An M free day. He spent the day cerebrally cavorting with a married woman’s brain matter. Bah! He was actually putting his beaver-like skills to the test by attacking his case study project – a day of academics minus his whiny girlfriend. I spent the day bonding/scrapping with R’s R and my dwindling bank account. We went birthday gift shopping for R – and after a wonderfully air conditioned day at Markville mall, we sauntered into Asiyans. Yards and yards of fabric that costs yards and yards of coin. Serious coin. No matter, the search continues for that one breath taking (and affordable) moment. My purchases for the weekend:
A black skirt – embroidered cotton with a ruffle – Dynamite.
An ice green pleated skirt – im rocking it today – Dynamite
A black twill blend skirt from Winners – For under $15
A pale yellow blazer from Reitmans
A funky bracelet
Some presents for upcoming birthdays.
And – that’s it.
Nope, I lied.
An army green Roots hat.
A total of $110.
Yeah, not so bad eh?
Unless you factor in the reality.
I didn’t have that much to spend
Hence I dipped my wicked fingers into my savings account.
Eegads.
My boyfriend was not pleased.
Im sure he thinks im a retail hoe.
And the sad truth is that
I AM.
No more.
Saturday night: M and I got into a verbal brawl. To continue the pace that R & R set up for the weekend – we spatted it out and cleaned ourselves off. Fighting with him is emotionally draining cuz I like him waaaay more than I should. I can’t in good conscience go to sleep knowing that he is pissed at me. Anyways, I managed. We patched things up on Sabbath day.
Sunday: Hung out. Recovered from the retail sidewalk madness that seems to have taken the province by storm. R & I hung out during the day. M joined us part ways. We scrapped some more. Wiped ourselves clean. And got dirty again. It’s fun fighting with the boy. Then R’s R joined us. And we caught the over-animated shrimp Cruise in his must-see flick - war of the worlds – yikes. The best part of the movie was the popcorn. Sad but true. Introduced a salt stained track to my face. We finished the night with some chicken kothu and butter chicken. Yum.
Another weekend lost in time.
Oh and R is having a blast in England.
She sounds older. More mature. And happier.
I couldn’t be more thrilled.
Friday: M was in a end of the week funk. A little bit of shopping therapy polished his waning veneer and presto! He was born anew. He’s absolutely precious when he’s sulky and even more adorable when he’s not. He scored a pair of casual black metro-esque shoes at Bata for under $40 and jeans from Roots for less than $20. Go figure – the boy has the best retail luck that I’ve ever known an XY to have. He also bought me july’s gift (yes, im spoilt rotten – my super-duper fly man buys me a present every month- go ahead, I won’t begrudge you the drool factor) – 2 pairs of hot pants from La Senza – another great buy.
Saturday: An M free day. He spent the day cerebrally cavorting with a married woman’s brain matter. Bah! He was actually putting his beaver-like skills to the test by attacking his case study project – a day of academics minus his whiny girlfriend. I spent the day bonding/scrapping with R’s R and my dwindling bank account. We went birthday gift shopping for R – and after a wonderfully air conditioned day at Markville mall, we sauntered into Asiyans. Yards and yards of fabric that costs yards and yards of coin. Serious coin. No matter, the search continues for that one breath taking (and affordable) moment. My purchases for the weekend:
A black skirt – embroidered cotton with a ruffle – Dynamite.
An ice green pleated skirt – im rocking it today – Dynamite
A black twill blend skirt from Winners – For under $15
A pale yellow blazer from Reitmans
A funky bracelet
Some presents for upcoming birthdays.
And – that’s it.
Nope, I lied.
An army green Roots hat.
A total of $110.
Yeah, not so bad eh?
Unless you factor in the reality.
I didn’t have that much to spend
Hence I dipped my wicked fingers into my savings account.
Eegads.
My boyfriend was not pleased.
Im sure he thinks im a retail hoe.
And the sad truth is that
I AM.
No more.
Saturday night: M and I got into a verbal brawl. To continue the pace that R & R set up for the weekend – we spatted it out and cleaned ourselves off. Fighting with him is emotionally draining cuz I like him waaaay more than I should. I can’t in good conscience go to sleep knowing that he is pissed at me. Anyways, I managed. We patched things up on Sabbath day.
Sunday: Hung out. Recovered from the retail sidewalk madness that seems to have taken the province by storm. R & I hung out during the day. M joined us part ways. We scrapped some more. Wiped ourselves clean. And got dirty again. It’s fun fighting with the boy. Then R’s R joined us. And we caught the over-animated shrimp Cruise in his must-see flick - war of the worlds – yikes. The best part of the movie was the popcorn. Sad but true. Introduced a salt stained track to my face. We finished the night with some chicken kothu and butter chicken. Yum.
Another weekend lost in time.
Oh and R is having a blast in England.
She sounds older. More mature. And happier.
I couldn’t be more thrilled.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Weekend of absolute debauchery
and S's wedding.
No doubt.
I mean, I slapped the backside of my head for having thought that it might be anything but. After all, S’s wedding was sure to be a fete worth remembering. With her extended fam down from the land of bad teeth and copious amounts of tea – it was surely a time to remember.
Brief synopsis for memory’s sake.
Friday:
Time up: 5:00 am (remind me never to have a MORNING wedding – S got 2 hours of sleep the night before – no matter though, the girl pulled through and turned into a smashing butterfly)
Sari: 6 yards of iridescent lavendar – wrapped with enough pins to hold my kanjivaram fort together – complete with R’s lavendar set (minus the headpiece) and gold sandals (a winners find from Thursday night - $22 taxes included).
Makeup – minimal (as in vaseline and eyeliner)
R’s outfit: sheathed in a shimmering luxurious blue, complete with all things that make R the perfect tamil chica – she looked gorgeous – no surprise there. Gorgeous people tend to do that effortlessly.
Time at S’s: 7:00 am – we were two extra bodies in a sea of thousands (ok, slight exaggeration – it was more like a sea of hundreds)
Crystal Fountains – absolutely breathtaking. I believe that R used the terms “posh” and “lavish” to describe it all. I agreed fully.
Dressing Room: S looked gorgeous. Orange and cream and yards and yards of nervous energy wrapped her securely. She was blinging like it was nobody’s business. I think Maharani’s couldn’t have competed with her that day. Her foot thumping a consistent beat of anxiety, ms. S spent her last moments as a veritable Miss worrying about all the nitty gritty deets. We got some candid shots of her in the dressing room – absolutely priceless.
Wedding: We (R, A & myself) walked out with her and the cackling crowd of multicoloured aunties to Mangalyam (R’s absolute all time favorite Alaipayuthe track – I guess S likes it too) and i was swept away by salt water spreading willfully from my eyes, down my cheeks and into the crevices of every feature. I stopped. Wished I could’ve dropped. But instead just ran out before I turned into a blithering mess. Apparently the girls felt the same way. I would’ve scoffed if anyone had told me that I was going to be all emotional at S’s wedding – scoffed. Smirked even. Probably would’ve accompanied that with a rip roaring laugh. But no such luck – I cried. Balled. Absolutely broke down. Magic looked so manly at the mandapam. Donned in his super-filmi suit complete with the groom’s head-dress, the tangy little cherry dropped on top of this sundae of delight as I realized – OMG, everything’s changing.
EVERYTHING.
S (might as well be one of our own) – married. I doubt this will change anything but the moment that miruthangam music kicked in and Magic fumbled with the thaali – it happened. Life paused and changed courses. A new route was formed. Her last moment as Ms. C were sent packing with the jingle jangle of traditional matrimonial music. And then it was over. Mr & Mrs. Y. phew.
Joy was punctuated by relief.
Pure and simple.
I stole away with the ruckus causing Brits to smoke a much-deserved fag.
A couple toozes later, R walked out to join me.
Dad had given him the “news”. M either stepped it up or stepped out.
Scary how group thinks work in familial situations.
Seeing S (one he considers like his own) get hitched got him thinking about the fate of his own.
I love him to death. And that’s punctuated with trepidation and anxiety.
The rest of Friday was nice and balmy.
The weather cooperated. The universe acquiesced. And the training wheels were back on, for different reasons.
Friday Night:
Besharam
Shamelessly I coerced Rsquared to join the chica’s & C at Fly nightclub for our monthly flirtation with racial homogeny and sexual diversity. Good times were had by all except Rsquared. They were fascinated by the ridiculously pretty men gyrating on other insanely goodlooking XY’s. Unfortunately all the alcohol laced drinks at the bar couldn’t stop them from feeling claustrophobic and borderline suicidal. Hence, the good times with the chica’s was cut short as we headed out to Markham station. After some much needed grub, we rolled into our beds at 4am. Absolutely spent.
------------------------------
Saturday:
RIBFEST
Ribfest with the fam. Pigs. Cars. Vendors. Cheapie – everything. What more could a pack of browntings need for a hot and muggy Saturday afternoon? Not much I tell you. I walked away with a silver ring accented by a smidgen of blue topaz ($5), a white tunic ($6) and some smoked chicken wings in my belly. R & Dad indulged their cheap-shades fetish by investing in more. M (being the reasonable one he is) told me to start saving up for one of the cars on exhibition. And Mom, she strolled, ate, got incredibly hot and asked to leave the scene pretty soon. Without R (in England) things were different. We didn’t even touch an entire rack of ribs – we missed her and her tiny rib loving teeth.
S & Magic’s Reception:
Outfit: Highlighter blue with silver accessories and gold sandals (yup, my $20 blingers)
R was adorned in orange and green with flat-iron straight hair and little touches of rani-royalty. Gorgeous. M wore a pretty shirt to match his date, R, with his black suit.
The couple: Magic looked like big daddy pimp with his ivory suit. All he needed was a cane and a fedora to complete the look. He was glowing – in joy I think. Although he kept blabbering about “final sales” and “no refunds” – I assumed it was the bliss of being groomy that led to those verbal scatterings. S wore pink and green. Absolutely breath-taking. Everything from her hair to her shoes were perfect. So much worry for something that looked effortless and perfect.
The night: I was caught in a delirium of drinks, smokes, accents and bald headed men. My man was busy escorting my fantabulous sister for the night (totally understandable) and that was a-okay with me. They are so cute together. And apart. R’s R joined us later in the night and I had the pleasure of dating my man again. After some speeches, some eats and some serious dancing..we shut down the hall at around half past one. Everyone looked great. Everything went smoothly. And it seemed like everyone had a memorable time.
We got home – exhausted. Another night without an ounce of life left in me. I cuddled into M’s arms and slept like a little baby.
-----------------------------
Sunday:
Wimbledon. Federer kicked Rodicks ass. Big time news for die hard tennis heads. Im not one. But M is. Which means that by association, I was too.
S’s “have a happy honeymoon” bbq:
S& Magic in the open. Exhale. Normal. Together. In love. And in the open. It was refreshing. So this is what marriage is like – liberating. They looked happy. The fam was overflowing with food (enough to feed numerous villages in Srilanka), booze (im sure they bought out a few beer stores) and all things typical of an S family jam – and things were great. The Brits were homebound and we conducted all the necessary info swaps needed to keep in touch. R drove the navigator around - a parking lot - but drove it nevertheless. M& I discovered B's secret - pre-rolled tings. Entire kits for the lazy mans spliff. The boys had a blast. M included. He's getting more comfy with this familial unit.
And we hugged S&Magic away on their most romantic honeymoon.
Phew. Relief. One magical weekend drenched in more debauchery than this synopsis could hold – done. Completed. Approved. And seriously certified.
---------------------------
Monday:
Chores with dad.
Lunch with M and his mom.
Our first look at rings. – yup. That’s what I thought. RINGS! Oh my god! Rings.
More to come on that.
It’s time to put my head down and get back to work.
:)
-----
No doubt.
I mean, I slapped the backside of my head for having thought that it might be anything but. After all, S’s wedding was sure to be a fete worth remembering. With her extended fam down from the land of bad teeth and copious amounts of tea – it was surely a time to remember.
Brief synopsis for memory’s sake.
Friday:
Time up: 5:00 am (remind me never to have a MORNING wedding – S got 2 hours of sleep the night before – no matter though, the girl pulled through and turned into a smashing butterfly)
Sari: 6 yards of iridescent lavendar – wrapped with enough pins to hold my kanjivaram fort together – complete with R’s lavendar set (minus the headpiece) and gold sandals (a winners find from Thursday night - $22 taxes included).
Makeup – minimal (as in vaseline and eyeliner)
R’s outfit: sheathed in a shimmering luxurious blue, complete with all things that make R the perfect tamil chica – she looked gorgeous – no surprise there. Gorgeous people tend to do that effortlessly.
Time at S’s: 7:00 am – we were two extra bodies in a sea of thousands (ok, slight exaggeration – it was more like a sea of hundreds)
Crystal Fountains – absolutely breathtaking. I believe that R used the terms “posh” and “lavish” to describe it all. I agreed fully.
Dressing Room: S looked gorgeous. Orange and cream and yards and yards of nervous energy wrapped her securely. She was blinging like it was nobody’s business. I think Maharani’s couldn’t have competed with her that day. Her foot thumping a consistent beat of anxiety, ms. S spent her last moments as a veritable Miss worrying about all the nitty gritty deets. We got some candid shots of her in the dressing room – absolutely priceless.
Wedding: We (R, A & myself) walked out with her and the cackling crowd of multicoloured aunties to Mangalyam (R’s absolute all time favorite Alaipayuthe track – I guess S likes it too) and i was swept away by salt water spreading willfully from my eyes, down my cheeks and into the crevices of every feature. I stopped. Wished I could’ve dropped. But instead just ran out before I turned into a blithering mess. Apparently the girls felt the same way. I would’ve scoffed if anyone had told me that I was going to be all emotional at S’s wedding – scoffed. Smirked even. Probably would’ve accompanied that with a rip roaring laugh. But no such luck – I cried. Balled. Absolutely broke down. Magic looked so manly at the mandapam. Donned in his super-filmi suit complete with the groom’s head-dress, the tangy little cherry dropped on top of this sundae of delight as I realized – OMG, everything’s changing.
EVERYTHING.
S (might as well be one of our own) – married. I doubt this will change anything but the moment that miruthangam music kicked in and Magic fumbled with the thaali – it happened. Life paused and changed courses. A new route was formed. Her last moment as Ms. C were sent packing with the jingle jangle of traditional matrimonial music. And then it was over. Mr & Mrs. Y. phew.
Joy was punctuated by relief.
Pure and simple.
I stole away with the ruckus causing Brits to smoke a much-deserved fag.
A couple toozes later, R walked out to join me.
Dad had given him the “news”. M either stepped it up or stepped out.
Scary how group thinks work in familial situations.
Seeing S (one he considers like his own) get hitched got him thinking about the fate of his own.
I love him to death. And that’s punctuated with trepidation and anxiety.
The rest of Friday was nice and balmy.
The weather cooperated. The universe acquiesced. And the training wheels were back on, for different reasons.
Friday Night:
Besharam
Shamelessly I coerced Rsquared to join the chica’s & C at Fly nightclub for our monthly flirtation with racial homogeny and sexual diversity. Good times were had by all except Rsquared. They were fascinated by the ridiculously pretty men gyrating on other insanely goodlooking XY’s. Unfortunately all the alcohol laced drinks at the bar couldn’t stop them from feeling claustrophobic and borderline suicidal. Hence, the good times with the chica’s was cut short as we headed out to Markham station. After some much needed grub, we rolled into our beds at 4am. Absolutely spent.
------------------------------
Saturday:
RIBFEST
Ribfest with the fam. Pigs. Cars. Vendors. Cheapie – everything. What more could a pack of browntings need for a hot and muggy Saturday afternoon? Not much I tell you. I walked away with a silver ring accented by a smidgen of blue topaz ($5), a white tunic ($6) and some smoked chicken wings in my belly. R & Dad indulged their cheap-shades fetish by investing in more. M (being the reasonable one he is) told me to start saving up for one of the cars on exhibition. And Mom, she strolled, ate, got incredibly hot and asked to leave the scene pretty soon. Without R (in England) things were different. We didn’t even touch an entire rack of ribs – we missed her and her tiny rib loving teeth.
S & Magic’s Reception:
Outfit: Highlighter blue with silver accessories and gold sandals (yup, my $20 blingers)
R was adorned in orange and green with flat-iron straight hair and little touches of rani-royalty. Gorgeous. M wore a pretty shirt to match his date, R, with his black suit.
The couple: Magic looked like big daddy pimp with his ivory suit. All he needed was a cane and a fedora to complete the look. He was glowing – in joy I think. Although he kept blabbering about “final sales” and “no refunds” – I assumed it was the bliss of being groomy that led to those verbal scatterings. S wore pink and green. Absolutely breath-taking. Everything from her hair to her shoes were perfect. So much worry for something that looked effortless and perfect.
The night: I was caught in a delirium of drinks, smokes, accents and bald headed men. My man was busy escorting my fantabulous sister for the night (totally understandable) and that was a-okay with me. They are so cute together. And apart. R’s R joined us later in the night and I had the pleasure of dating my man again. After some speeches, some eats and some serious dancing..we shut down the hall at around half past one. Everyone looked great. Everything went smoothly. And it seemed like everyone had a memorable time.
We got home – exhausted. Another night without an ounce of life left in me. I cuddled into M’s arms and slept like a little baby.
-----------------------------
Sunday:
Wimbledon. Federer kicked Rodicks ass. Big time news for die hard tennis heads. Im not one. But M is. Which means that by association, I was too.
S’s “have a happy honeymoon” bbq:
S& Magic in the open. Exhale. Normal. Together. In love. And in the open. It was refreshing. So this is what marriage is like – liberating. They looked happy. The fam was overflowing with food (enough to feed numerous villages in Srilanka), booze (im sure they bought out a few beer stores) and all things typical of an S family jam – and things were great. The Brits were homebound and we conducted all the necessary info swaps needed to keep in touch. R drove the navigator around - a parking lot - but drove it nevertheless. M& I discovered B's secret - pre-rolled tings. Entire kits for the lazy mans spliff. The boys had a blast. M included. He's getting more comfy with this familial unit.
And we hugged S&Magic away on their most romantic honeymoon.
Phew. Relief. One magical weekend drenched in more debauchery than this synopsis could hold – done. Completed. Approved. And seriously certified.
---------------------------
Monday:
Chores with dad.
Lunch with M and his mom.
Our first look at rings. – yup. That’s what I thought. RINGS! Oh my god! Rings.
More to come on that.
It’s time to put my head down and get back to work.
:)
-----
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