this is me....right now.

- stressed and ready to yank every strand of hair on my head - right after i chew my fingers to nubs. its incredible how the tide moves you when it comes to the ebb and flow of our workloads in the ad biz. christmas is two point five weeks away - and we've got massive waves of work moving through our studio.

- feeling ridiculously low on christmas spirit this year. the tree went up at home - a gorgeous piece of well-designed pink/purple and green magic - and i felt, nothing. the neighbors turned on all 300,000 award-winning lights on their front lawn, blinding the better part of the durham region -- yet, the holiday spirit is still hiding from me. Usually i'm THAT annoying person when it comes to christmas time gift buying - i make lists, i check them twice, buy more than i planned, wrap copious amounts of things - and this time - nothing. I am so border-line Scrooge-like - not with the cheapness but with the attitude, it's alarming. 'Bah Humbug' - maybe i need a double shot of scotch?

- still recovering from some strain of the swine flu. thanks to my shoddy immune system, i'm left with a nasty cough that rears its phlemy head at the most awkward (re:inappropriate) moments in life.

- ready for a break (from myself and my thoughts)

- not ready for winter and its icy caress.

- unhappy that i have to wear socks now. that is the cherry on top of my disappointment pie.

- thrilled that i'm going to be an aunty. for. the. first. time. inthis-especiallyspecial-way. Actually scratch aunty, i'm going to be a periamma. And I can't tell you how many times I've rolled my eyes when I've heard that before - but now, with this little bean, I'm ready to be called Periamma in public. THAT's lowe.

- considering buying a pair of UGGS but completely unsure if its age appropriate.

- distressed that i'm thinking in terms of "age appropriate" attire. wtf. now, i feel old.

- battling a constant surge of tiredness + lethargy.

- hiding from the gym. i. must. return.

- craving some okra. except i don't even know how to buy them, let alone cook them up.

- freezing cold on the inside.

- not looking forward to a week filled with holiday 'work' parties. they come disguised as 'fun times' when in reality its just a meeting in a black dress + heels

- dying for something great to read. any recommends would be greatly appreciated.

- going to punch someone if they ask me (again) when it will be my turn to have a baby.

- seriously considering committing to this baby making process. but first, getting healthy needs to happen. according to my voice of reason - its mind over matter.

- trying to bribe someone to watch precious with me. my good friend Oprah told me I should. Apparently the rest of the world didn't get that memo.

- wishing i had a yoga buddy who lived in the area. it sucks being away from my family.

- realizing that i'm getting older and perhaps it's time to refocus on myself. i hate mature realizations. cue gagging sfx here.

- most importantly, craving something, anything with bacon on it.

this year

has flown by. And between all the events that have consumed my mind -
today, i realized something - i forgot to move forward in my own life.

not a complaint. not a regret.
just an observation.

perhaps, 2010 will be the year of jana.
because in 2009, she got shuffled and a bit misplaced.

*sigh*

being sick

sucks. especially when you've been bed ridden for over 6 days - including a weekend where one fantabulous wedding + 3 dinner parties had to be missed. and you don't get to see your fam in over 6 days. and you know that you will return to work at some point this week, perfectly accessorized with an ugly hacking cough.

fml.

so what makes this feeling better?

one amma.
who drove 57 kms.
with 5 tupperware dishes.
lovingly cocooning - home cooked goodness.

sure, she couldn't stay - but eating her food
and feeling that rasam race down my throat
i felt like all will be okay in my world.
soon.

---

THIS makes me feel unbelievably loved.

thirty. two.

part deux.

this year, i'm going to give myself 3 'little' things to focus on.

1. Getting healthy.

2. Moving forward.

3. Laughing. Lots.

more on all three to follow, although i do think they are quite self explanatory. i think i will have to break them down into SMART goals though - just so i set some very clear expectations for myself.

--

it's already november! wtf! this year has whizzed by. and the first day back at work after 10 days off - is painful, regardless of how much you adore your job.

thirty two.

i can't believe i'm so old.

here are thirty two things i'd like to remember when i look back on this blog - as i'm sure i will, since i'm slowly starting to lose my mind. This is of course a random list.

--
1. Love is hard work. Whoever told me that love is easy and uncomplicated needs to stop lying. Really, stop lying, right now. In my world, any relationship with real love, the weighty kind, involves tons of work – as it should. That’s why the older I got, the smaller my inner circle became. And that invisible line between the ‘people I know’ and the ‘people I love’ became more obvious than it was before.

2. Sisters are the world’s best invention. First they were my playmates. Then my arch rivals. Then the *itches that stole my shit. Then my partners in crime. My shoulders to lean on. My security blankets. My besties. And still, the only people that can paint a smile on my face, when I’m at my coldest.

3. It is always darkest before the dawn. So, hold on even when you feel like the day might never break.

4. Those after-school specials are right – dreams can come true. The only caveat – you have to make them come true. Yup, there’s that thing called ‘work’ again.

5. What goes around – always comes right back around. I remind myself of that every time, the evilminime, wants a moment to shine.

6. Family is a state of mind. So never let the world tell you that blood is thicker than water. (although on rare occasions it can be)

7. Marriage is easy. Love is hard work. Being in love and being married is a rough combination. At the best of times it’s like walking a tight rope. It’s hard to remember the sparkle and shine when you are caught up in the drag of everyday life. My reminder: that swoon-inducing, melt-worthy smile. And of course it helps when you marry someone that perfectly integrates themselves into your perspective and continues to sprinkle all sorts of goodness into your life on a daily basis. I am so lucky to have found him. (okay, i just mini barfed - moving on)

8. You can and should do what you love. Life is too short to be stuck in a career that you can’t stand.

9. Time flies. All those days when I used to complain about how every minute felt like a lifetime – yea, those days are gone. Time is on fast forward now. Serves. Me. Right.

10. Friends are always more important than money.

11. Standards are a good thing. Knowing what you want helps you navigate through a world of a trillion mediocre offers.

12. Always use your internal moral compass to gauge your life. What the aunties will think and say, should never determine your actions. It took me a long time to learn that.

13. Being brown is just like being a girl. It’s a constant uphill battle of trying to figure out how things work and where things fit. So don’t overthink it – just embrace it. On some days, I still watch the clash of expectations from the sidelines: c’est la vie.

14. H20 rocks.

15. It’s okay to spend on life’s frills, especially if it helps you have a better day.

16. Invest in yourself. And not just financially.

17. I’ve learned that I have to put myself on the ‘to do’ list. And of course, I must remember to be kind to myself.

18. My parents are amazing people. The older I get, the more I realize that as I experience them in different capacities.

19. Books used to be my entertainment – now they are my escape.

20. Words are the next best thing to my family in this life.

21. See the world when you can. Grab every opportunity. Because sometimes putting things off for tomorrow is akin to taking it off the list.

22. Create a bucket list. Or a five-year list. I re-look at mine every year to re-evaluate things. I learned this from the goal-oriented & accomplishment-driven hubs.

23. Be thankful for everything you have. Including the half assed pinky toe your dad gave you. I am.

24. Don’t ever get peer pressured into doing something that you aren’t ready to do. Wearing neon yellow tights and making babies should only happen when and if you are ready for them.

25. Your past will always leak into your present – and hence your future. So come to terms with it – because it NEVER goes away.

26. Learning how to “time out” yourself is HUGE. Especially with my quick to flare temper.


27. Laughter is a pretty good medicine. However, a good cry is sometimes the BEST medicine. So go ahead, have a good weep. It’s good for your skin too!

28. Love yourself. It’s amazing how easy it is to forget that.

29. Being a female is a wonderful journey. Sure you get your period. Sure you have glass ceilings to deal with. Sure you have to deal with loads of suffocating expectations – but at the end of the day – being a woman can be a lovely experience. All you have to do is be yourself.

30. I heart my mom now more than I ever have before. I understand her on a much deeper level, ever since I became a wife. And I’m certain that all of it will change and grow if and when I become someone’s mother. She is strong, courageous and has an incredibly resilient spirit. I hope I grow up to be her one day.

31. Life. Is. Precious. And is oftentimes found in the small moments tucked away behind and in-between milestones. Celebrate those. Actually, celebrate something every day – being alive should be a beautiful thing. I’m still learning this.

32. Believe in something – a higher power, in living a life filled with hope, in being open to the energy of the world, in being a good person, in finding your purpose in life. Whatever it may be, make sure – You. Believe. In. Something.

--

the biggest lesson i've learned so far is this: take a chance. i don't think i'd have most of the things i do right now if i hadn't jumped out of my comfort zone and tried something that scared the living daylights out of me. Case in point, getting married, switching careers and so many little things in between.

ohkay - time to go start my big ole birthday. the next post will be about the three things i hope to accomplish this year. small goals people - small goals. old people can only handle little morsels of change. or so i've been told.

midway

and still going strong.

the last 14 days have been a test of will power. Some people are put through the wringer on Survivor - my amazonian test is the mall. Mannequins, store signs, displays, racks - it's all a trap. And i'm speedy like a super mario or two, whizzing past them.

In all honesty, the last two weeks have been brutal. I've had 4 dinner get-togethers, a bridal shower and a birthday soiree to attend. This involved multiple trips to the malls to procure things for other people. I'm a firm believe in always taking a token of appreciation for the generous host - so the last 14 days have seen me traipsing through the mall on many an occasion. Anyone who has watched the Shopaholic - knows EXACTLY what I'm going through.

I don't know if this month was a bad one to pick to try said experiment on myself. After all, it's a birthday-heavy month and is also one that is usually filled with lots of events - thanksgiving, diwali....that's a lot of time spent visiting! I've discovered that so far it hasn't felt as brutal as I thought it would. After all, I did get to buy loads of things - even if it was for other people - it still fulfilled the urge to shop.

I think i should do this in the new year. Maybe in january? November is impossible - after all christmas is right around the corner. And December - well holiday parties always deserve a new outfit or two or ten.

I am however slightly impressed with myself. Sure i've been drooling all over my keyboard wishing i could take that virtual wishlist and make them welcome additions to the wardrobe - but all in all, i haven't bought myself a single solitary thing.

It's a lot like how I deal with hot men these days. Lookie lookie? Absolutely. Touchie Touchie? Hellll no - cuz my broken inside will then wish I could take it home.

I think I've realized that maybe I do have a little bit of self control after all.

:)

work on the other hand has been INSANE. retail accounts keep our creative guys grumpy and the account folk jumping through fire breathing hoops. at the end of day, sure they aren't fun (on a daily basis) but they certainly keep us all running in circles.

bleh.

zilch

zip. zero.

that's how much i plan on spending this month on the frills that oftentimes clutter but cocoon my life. Yup, you heard me right. I'm going to implement a shopping ban for the month of October. Talk about idealistic aspirations eh? I can't make it past a block without my money practically fighting its way out of my wallet and into a retail bag of some sort. I am THAT kid that can justify and rationalize any purchase - i just love the thrill of the hunt and the pleasure of the find.

In fact, on a recent 'sightseeing' trip to NYC with 30 of my closest family members - I spent the equivalent of 2 mortgage payments on some of my favorite friends - you might know them - jcrew, coach, michae kors, guess, nine west. Yup. I got so much stuff that I could have actually bought myself a ticket to Italy for a holiday instead. And this was the damage spread over less than 5 hours of shopping - without any MAJOR purchases. Now, THAT is ridiculous even for a retail-a-holic like myself. So this month, my birthday month, i've decided to shop my own closet.

I recently realized that i still have a good 30% of my wardrobe with tags on it. And reading the Economist yesterday - a wave of guilt washed over me because i am part of the generation that just has too much. it was definitely a familiar feeling. i mean, its the souvenir that keeps giving for a few months after any trip i take to india or sri lanka. i realize just how little some people have and i leave guilt ridden for all the wasteful clutter that i amass in my life. i mean i bought a beret at jcrew for $45.00 and thought it was a great deal - that's close to 5000rupees in SL. WTF. And knowing me - i will wear it twice and then lose interest in it. So this month, i am going to hope that i can find the will power i desperately need to learn a crucial lesson in my life.

so i will not be purchasing any clothing items in the month of october. or shoes. (sigh) or books. (faint) or accessories for myself or the house. or knick knacks of any sort. I will give myself $100 for the month (gulp) to cover lunches (this is a challenge because the avg lunch in my area is like $25) and that's all. (choke + gulp)

re-reading this, i'm starting to feel faint. perhaps i should alert my co-workers of this fact so they can check in on me occasionally.

since the ban started yesterday - here's a little something from october one.

yesterday i walked by a store window and saw THE most adorable michael kors bag - and my heart literally skipped two beats. michael kept whispering my name seductively, pleading with me to just run my fingers over the smooth trim, lose myself in supple leather... and i had to force my feet to keep walking along their original path. in fact, one of my friends had to physically drag me away as i left remnants of drool on the once clear glass window. she also had to hold my hand all the way to the coffee shop - yup, that's how i need to roll. first a hand, next a leash.

The one indulgence I have allowed myself is the $4/day coffee i have (it's a necessity in my book) - after all, I said i was trying to be mindful - not lose my mind.

so stay tuned for more episodes from the shopping ban.

--
hmm, someone just dropped off a 25% off special coupon to the GAP. i swear the world is out to torture me.

bored

stiff.

or is it loose.

i. feel. like. jello.

jiggley and undefined.

that's what a lack of craziness can do to a type-a freak, like myself. this week has been painfully slow. i quite prefer the days of running around with an exposed artery, extinguisher in hand dealing with high profile accounts, knobheads, and putting out proverbial fires. This relaxed pace has my skin crawling.

maybe i need a shot of benadryl. who am i kidding - i need the whole bottle to stave off what i'm certain is an allergic reaction to "downtime". i need to learn how to relax and enjoy this - otherwise i'll be featured in the obituaries a lot sooner than anticipated.

so i suppose its time to go home and be a wife now.

and tonight is my unfortunate night to cook. please god, pray for me and the sweet potatoes that i am going to attempt to turn into fries - using an oven! oy. the recipes look super easy online - but when i get into executing them - they feel harder than the steep climb of mt. kilimanjaro. i'm fairly certain that i'll set the fire alarm off - after all, it's my nightly ritual. that's how i alert my neighbors that somethin's a-cookin in suite 1511.

i'm so lucky the hubs is too kind to say anything nasty and moreover, thank god for his iron belly.

g'nite.

Top 10 list of life's simple and inexpensive pleasures

simple and inexpensive...now those are two words that rarely play a part in my vocab. i am THAT girl where everything that means anything is usually a complicated chaotic conundrum that costs an arm, leg and a kidney at least(if you are lucky). so having read this on someone's blog - i accepted the open tag as a challenge of sorts. let's see how long it takes me to document 10 simple and inexpensive pleasures, in no particular order.

ready...set...go..(10:24am)

one: re-reading a book from my personal collection, with a venti latte (non-fat, extra hot, extra wet, with a splash of sugar free vanilla) on my balcony in the sun. bliss.

two: going home to play with bailey. he is the simplest pleasure i know. he loves without expectation - except for the occasional walk, belly rub and treat. In fact, he'll even settle for a stalk of celery and a cuddle-nap with his bff's. i'm lucky that his circle of trust includes me.

three: hanging out with my family. this feels like a cop-out answer. everyone who knows me knows that they define me in so many ways. however, spending time with them is in fact a simple and inexpensive pleasure - so there.

four: Co. Bigelow lemon lip cream. every application makes me swoon. Not only is it a staple in my bag but it's also a great pick-me-up.

(pause: to answer a couple questions on a brief + defend the key message)

five: revisiting old memories. i heart albums bursting with all sorts of moments. i'm camera-happy all the way and tend to document every moment to the chagrin of those around me. but it makes for hours and hours of stumbles down memory lane :)

six: long phone chats with the bff. the best. only trumped by long chats with the bff in person.

(pause: two phone calls + one cup of coffee + great news - JCrew is having another sale!)

seven: an apres-dinner stroll with the hubs (minus our wallets) through the urban cityscape that we call home.

eight: sleep. elusive and oh-so-enticing.

nine: ammio's pittu.takes me back to 75 IBC Road.

(pause: reminder to fill in timesheets...bleh, the bane of my existence)

ten: writing. *sigh*. which reminds me - i need to get back to it.

and we're done.
(10:56am)


i guess i am far more grounded than i gave myself credit for. It's 10:56am and it's time to scoot to a meeting. i heart those few and far between days when the world of advertising moves at a turtle's pace.

i've got

hoppers on my mind.

*sigh*

instead, i'll be having some grilled halibut with spinach aioli.

gah.

hump day ranting

"oh my god, this is unreal"

"hold up, are they seriously talking about this AGAIN?!?!?"

"someone hand taylor a box of kleenex"

"maybe they need to exile kanyeandeveryothereffinradiostationthatplaysthisnoneffinstop"

--
and that my dear friends was my thought process this morning.
gahh! nothing bothers me more than rifling through the Economist, which deals with REAL issues, in the morning to the soundtrack of another boo-hoo celebrity-infused-perez-hilton sponsored moment. on re-peat.

FML.

--

In other news, i've got a strategy session with a client today - and i am PSYCHED. Yup, i am THAT geek. Heck, if you get paid practically nothing to do what you love doing - then you might as well milk the few moments of bliss for all their worth.

Advertising is totally my first-love. She's high-maintenance. Requires a truckload of TLC. Demands my undivided attention. Makes me work into the wee hours of the morning. Expects me to kiss-face and ass at more events than I have the bandwidth to handle. Pushes me out of my comfort zone on a daily basis. Makes my heart pound at the thought of a great strategy and the potential of phenomenal creative. Gets me misty-eyed courtesy of too-much joy + great creative. Makes the major inconveniences feel minor. She's the soundtrack that plays behind everything else i do.

and this bothers me because...

1. i have a phenomenal job that i absolutely adore
2. i have an amazing family that i am blessed to have + friends that ease the ride
3. i have a hubs that absolutely adores me and is still in love with me (after almost 7 years)
4. i have loads of things i love - tangible things - an enviable closet, a drool-inducing library, more gadgets than a girl needs + all the necessities

in other words, i have a pretty cushy life.

but for some strange reason - something doesn't feel quite right. i feel like i blew a fuse.

{more internal investigations to follow}

in the meantime - i have a meeting to prep for!

yay wednesday.glad you could make it.

--
oooh...and today i get to meet sue!
*sigh*
like icing on a cupcake.

dis-con-nect-ed-

ish.

not sure why.

but here's a little something that made me go: hmmmm.

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next."
-Gilda Radner

--
i never could resist the urge to take a peek at the ending. these days, i'm fumbling to visualize those last pages and its frustrating that i'm coming up empty.

this too shall pass my little minnow. this. too. shall. pass.

*sigh*

this morning

i have one phrase stuck between membranes...

a journey of a thousand miles, begins with a single step.

profound. if i can remember it, that is.

TGIF.

the ad world

is not one that is filled with all the glamor of the 60's. we don't roll into work at 10:00am to an office specifically outfitted with a deluxe premium bar and a hoard of secretaries. unfortunately, my life isn't a rerun of an episode of madmen.

instead, i woke up to the pleasantries of an early morning branding session that went into the early afternoon hours.

my belly grumbled along with my brain for having to digest so much newness at such an ungodly hour.

however, i did walk out of that meeting with one key take away ---> listening alone does not affect change. action does.

write that down folks - it is simply brilliant.

craving

familiarity.

lately, i've got nicotine on my mind.
and despite being smoke-free for 11 months (yup, quite the feat!)
the last few days have been mentally grueling
because my brain seems to be begging for - just.one.drag.

hrmph.

it's fall.

as in, the summer weather that was misplaced en route to me, is now officially being shooed out the door. yup, life is indeed - unfair.

september always smells of newness - more so than january does. summer's done. school's in. the markets pick up. life gets busy. and this year, i walked into the newness, complacently. Mind you that's only because nothing can compare itself to last year's entrance - sheathed in brave new decisions and navigating a new career path.

my mantra (the same old one) is to try to visit this spot a little more. post some more. write some more. vent some more. pen myself out of my issues - some more.

in the meantime, i was witness to a pretty gruesome marital spat in the last little while. the infuriated husband screamed: if I'm a bad husband it's because you are a bad wife.

my reaction:

a bad husband is not created by a bad wife. he is actually created by a bad mom and an unhealthy parental relationship. but nice try buddy.

yup. that's my thought for the day.and it nicely reflects the cynicism that's becoming a part of my so-called-nature.

48 hours of bliss

oops, minus 6.

this past weekend was our annual "end-of-summer" shopping trip. we (R3 + lil J) look forward to this weekend all summer long. sure, it means the end of the summer (considering the crappy weather we've had - this year, we couldn't wait to leave summer, the traitor, behind and dive into fall) but more importantly, it also means copious amounts of shopping - and trust me, nobody shops as hard or as seriously as the four of us do.

the weekend was filled with too much laughter, greasy comments, sketchy jokes, lots of chatter, some bugs (the two legged and winged variety) and of course - lots and lots of shopping bags. we put our usual excuse of requiring retail therapy out of her misery and fully embraced our manic desire to burn all our money and melt our plastic.

some choice moments:::

life partner (all 26 minutes of it); 4 half asleep women, 1 bathroom in the AM (enough said); arguments punctuated with laughter; crossing the border; "hey, your accent changes!"; the bladder calls - TGforPrime; Michael Kors *swoon* (yes, he came home with me); "he's small but needs a double xl"; 2 hrs of boy shopping; "oooh, look at the corelle dinnerware" -- "oh no, she's part of the wives club"; $3 tee's @ old navy + hot tanned cashout guy who likes a frugal girl = lil j's dream; auntie annie makes good sugary bread sticks; getting lost (again); checking in; strange stares from a wedding party as four brown people holding 30 bags try to fit into the worlds smallest elevator; walden *bliss*; "i can make you that headband - Eff Jcrew" - no thanks :); forever19 spent 120minutes at forever21; bff's random sweater-find *envy*;remembering that food is a necessity - jacks wings; someone sucks on balls; 828 to 806 - thanks mini buggies; dragging 50 retail bags across a ridiculously long hallway; cheaper by the dozen; laughter; more laughter; then someone peed; borders; $1 target milkyways; IHOP & Dominique; rain; more laughter; "excuse me, am i a car?"; i freaking heart you guys; dumb & dumber; 8 photos = 20 minutes of entertainment for people sitting by the booth; excuses & tales to cross the border; "you always pick the wrong line"; cute customs guy - zero questions; long eyelashes - longer drive; spent emotionally and physically; at the end of it all - i freaking heart you guys.

phew. as a group, we all helped out the US economy by spending some serious $$$ on the other side of the border. it was an amazing weekend and i. feel. so. blessed. I have great friends that i can laugh and get on with - knowing all the while that we'll still be together 20 years from now. Unless one of them b*@&h's disses my baby - jcrew.

--::--
and of course, i got home to find my favorite stranger - back from his journey - in one piece.

11:36pm on sunday night:::::life couldn't have been better.

a yearning

for pol sambol.

dear sri lanka,

lately, you've been on my mind. there must be something in the air because everywhere i turn, i hear a haunting whisper that tickles every cell and blossoms into a festival of goosebumps. it follows me, begging me to come back home.

but sri lanka, lets be honest here - you were never home to me. i was mostly just a squatter. there with no permanence in mind. flying in and out for hot summers by the sea.

and that's why i find your behavior astonishing. and my reaction - terrifying. i can't seem to shake this feeling. i keep searching for your likeness in things that are fundamentally so un-like you. it's apposite though.

the older i get - the more i want to sink back into your lap and my past of smocked cotton dresses, papaya's on street corners and royal bakery runs.

2011 can't come soon enough. until then, taunt somebody else.

in fact, i will even recommend a few people who could use a little reminding of exactly where they came from :)

love,
the Canadian*


*for now.

List # 3: 3 things that i can't control...

that drive the hubs and me into a funk.

1. Other people having babies. This requires an explanation. This weekend the hubs and I lived separately. We did our own thing and yet both our weekends were filled with babies. People making them. Having them. Trying for them. Pining for them. You name it - we saw it. Different circumstances - absolutely. But we both got the same underlying question asked many a time during the last 48 hours - when will it be our turn. Now, it's nobodys business but our own but having a broken diabetic-ridden baby is not our idea of a good time. So i'm figuring out my diabetes while he cools his heels. And we're fine with that. WTH, I'm not even 110% sure that I'm completely ready for a screaming bundle of joy. And yet, when i see all our friends venture down that path - it kinda puts me in a funk. Not because i'm not happy for them - but because their next step makes me feel peer pressured. OMG. That's it. I feel peer pressured to get pregnant.

Now, there's a wonderful reason to procreate.

2. Our families. Obviously a marriage is about negotiating between two very different continents completely removed from one another. There are things that our respective peeps do that drive the other bonkers. It is completely out of our control and we're bound not only by mutual respect and love to shut up and put up - but sometimes, and only sometimes, it drives us both into that grey zone.

And in those moments of sheer madness, for one nanosecond, we wish the other was an orphan, with no ties that bind.


3. Busy Schedules. Okay, so this one is a shadey number three. We always attempt to clear some time for each other and it works on the stuff that we can control. But sometimes, it's not us. I swear. It's the rest of the world. We find ourselves completely bogged down with event, after event, after event. And sure, we could say "no" and politely decline or just pretend we never got the invite - but most of these events spring from people that are close to us where the guilt of saying no - would be more haunting than the act of just playing along. And so we do. But of course, the lack of alone time slowly eats away at the seams of our relationship until a lonesome thread unravels and someone loses an eye.

This weekend was a combination of all three things. Thankfully none of them blew up to the point of no return. But i wonder...how strong is our bond...how much can it take..and we haven't even reached our year 2 milestone.

List Two: Five Flaws

Easter was nice. Busy but nice. I did something that I am highly unaccustomed to doing: giving away my stuff. AKA - a wardrobe purge. Mikey forced me into it - and considering that i had 6/7 things per hanger squished into my slidey closet - it made total sense. More so because I spend a fair bit on my clothes - and as much as I hate to admit it - your clothes do need some breathing room. So 3 garbage bags later - my closet feels lighter and strangely my life more organized. Who knew my clothes had so much to do with everything in my life!

--

Flaw one: i am all or nothing - all the time about everything.

Flaw two: i expect too much from people - from simple things like etiquette to bigger and more illustrious things.

Flaw three: i am loyal to a fault when we're talking about people i love.

Flaw four: i start things on a whim but rarely see them through.

Flaw five: i am allergic to the idea of saving.

Flaw six: i have zero will power about a lot of things.

Flaw seven: i rarely follow instructions.

--

hmmm...i could go on i think. but in the hopes of saving my self-esteem from a beat down - i think i'd like to stop now.

My Guilty Pleasure: List 1

A girlfriend at work recently bought a great designy book called Listography: Your Life in Lists. And it’s a gorgeous book for sure – the design is impeccable, the thoughtful renderings, the artistic feel – it’s all papier perfection. Flipping through it, I realized that it’s great fodder for those days when you feel like writing but you have nothing of any consequence to put out there.

So here we go – my first list.

My guilty pleasures (in no particular order):

1. Books: I know, I know. I can borrow them, devour them and return them. But there’s something so gratifying about owning great blocks of moving words…*sigh*

2. Shift dresses : I love a vibrant sheath of tangerine silk. Fuschia? Bring her on! The brighter the better and I will rock it all through the winter. Although recently – grey is my new neutral black.

3. Coffee: Despite the economic situation – I can always rationalize a great cup of coffee despite its price tag.

4. Fresh cut papaya/pineapple: a winter splurge that my belly loves and a summer staple I look forward to.

5. ‘Spend the days’ at home with the fam: it rejuvenates my spirit, refreshes my mind and readies me for the week ahead. Sure I feel bad that I leave my hubs for a whole day every weekend but hey, personal space can be a strengthening element in a marriage.

6. White summery linen: anything.

7. 700 Thread Count Sheets: swoon.

8. Long chats with bestie: a necessity

9. South Asian Literature: I’m not biased. I just have a favorite that my mind gravitates towards.

10. Shopping. I know I shouldn’t, especially now. But I love it.

this morning

there's one thing eating me that i haven't eaten - just yet.

i am consumed by this insanely ravenous hunger. And you guessed it ladies - it's probably THAT time of the month (or at least I hope so). And i can only tell because if someone unleashed me, i would probably eat the roof over my head.

just another reason being a woman isn't all fun and games.

i must go now, the roof calls.

i. am. an. addict.

to all sorts of things.

and these days, it has become far more apparent than it ever was.

I mean, i always knew I had that "all or nothing" personality happening and I knew that liking something consistently (in my case for more than 2 days) meant it quickly became a habit. You won't believe how many times I've squealed "i can't live without !!!!"

And yet, today, I'm surprised by this observation.

Here are three things I've become extremely addicted to in the last 6 weeks:

* trolling the jcrew website - i am hurtin' for one of everything. prayin', wishin' and hopin' beyond belief that this recessionary crap subsides so i can purchase away to my hearts content, minus the doom of the exchange rate. unfortunately, the hubs has made it very clear that he refuses to oblige my jcrew addiction when it comes to paying that venomous cross-border shipping charge. can someone start working on that please?!?!

* shopping in general for all sorts of things. the rest of the world is focused on holding on to what they've got. My silly brain on the other hand sees this as the perfect opportunity to find everything i need - in the colour i want, in MY size. See how i rationalized that? I do this everyday. Everyday, i have the urge to spend.

(i should think about adopting a 30 day no-shopping cleanse. oh who am i kidding! i'd rather starve than not shop - which also brings me to addiction #3)

* i'm obsessed with the weight that i've gained. for those of you who know me, you know i started the whole insulin treatment thang. well it's great for my future babies since they won't have to suffocate in an overly-sweet belly environment - but not so great for my carefully designed wardrobe. The pay-off of healthy babies doesn't seem to be enough to rationalize this one, right now at least. I've gained 14lbs over the last 4 months. What The HELL is up with that?!!?!? So my new obsession - working out in the mornings - healthy you say? Nah, only because like the shopping, food/coffee and literature addictions - it consumes every waking moment. And it's now a disease.

i.need.help.

hence the hiatus.

I've been feeling out of sorts as of late. Discombobulated by life, if you will. Caught up in a whirlwind of things - emotions, events, evolution. I feel burdened and yet strangely irresponsibly free.

And amidst all that, i stopped blogging. All it took was 2 days and i was hooked on the action of not coming back.

and we're back full circle.

let's see if i remember this spot tomorrow.

Random bits of coupledom.

I know. I suck. Instead of a real post I keep regurgitating these totally random survey type lists. There's a lot I want to say but very little time to really let it fly on paper (or blog). Soon though. i promise.

in the meantime - bits of us, together.

♥ What are your middle names?
I heart Mikey's - it's Lawrence, after his grandfather. Mine - not so much - it's Radha.

♥ How long have you been together?
On April 11th 2009 we'll turn 6.

♥ How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We met on April 4th and he asked me out on April 11th. We saw each other 5 times between those two dates - he met my folks and my BFF before the 11th as well! When you know, you just know.

♥ Who asked who out?
Mikey asked me out - my version.
Jana asked me to ask her out - his version.
i say - potato, potahtoe!

♥ How old are each of you?
We were both '77 babies - he screamed his way into the world in september and i kicked my way out in october.

♥ Whose siblings do/ did you see the most?
Mine.Come on now, anyone that knows me knows I'm umbilically connected to my FAM.

♥ Do you have any children together?
Nope. But we're definitely talking about starting a project later this year.

♥ What about pets?
2 kitlets. Tigi, who really is more like a dog than a cat. And Zigi - the biatch.

♥ Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
The same 2 issues that we identified in our pre-marital classes: Balancing time with our families while creating our own family and chatting about money.

♥ Did you go to the same school?
Nope. Never. We were continents apart.

♥Are you from the same home town?
Not really. We spent the last 12 years in the GTA, which is how we met etc - but even then on opposite ends of the city.

♥ Who is the smartest?
Me - book smart, trend smart. Him - just. plain.old.smart.

♥ Who is the most sensitive?
Him. Hands down.

♥ Where do you eat out most as a couple?
In the last couple of weeks, Saravana Bhavan has been our spot.

♥ Where is the furthest you two have traveled together?
Dubai.

♥ Who has the craziest exes?
Me. Definitely.

♥ Who has the worst temper?
I have the quickest flaring temper. But mine fizzles out after a few short intense sparks. His is the exact opposite. It takes a lot of provocation on my part to ignite it - but once it happens, watch out world - it's time for some serious fireworks.

♥ Who does the cooking?
We have our days. Literally. We've split the week so we both get a chance to call upon our inner chef.

♥ Who is the neat Freak?
I'm OCD about cleaning but i'm the queen of clutter. He likes things clean but isn't always motivated to clean things. There lies are most frequent arguments.

♥ Who is the more stubborn?
We seem to take turns with this one.

♥ Who hogs the bed?
Him. Definitely. He has this strange ability to wrap himself around me while sprawling out. He hogs. I drool. Whatever.

♥ Who wakes up earlier?
Me. Always. Especially on the weekends. And then, I must wake him up as well. I can't bear to be the only one awake. So now, I'm looking into early morning weekend yoga classes.

♥ Where was your first date?
Reel world Film Festival - watched Flavors.

♥ Who has the bigger family?
Me. I have 2 sisters. And close to 30 first cousins who are all local. So I win that one, hands down.

♥ Do you get/give flowers often?
I'm not into flowers so I don't get any. I know, heartless.

♥ How do you spend the holidays?
driving mostly. we try to split fam time in the middle. it sure is hard being loved.

♥ Who is more jealous?
Neither. We don't do jealousy. It just gets in the way of a good time. Although sometimes I am envious that he can eat all the sugary candy he wants.

♥ How long did it take to get serious?
4 months.

♥ Who eats more?
Mikey.

♥ Who does/ did the laundry?
I do. Although he gets most of his work clothes dry cleaned.

♥ Who’s better with the computer?
He is. But I'm on it more - i think.

♥ Who drives when you are together?
Him.

♥ Who has more tattoos?
Me.

♥ Who is more social?
Me.

♥ If you are married/engaged, where did he/she propose?
Mt. Tremblant - Dec 9th 2004.

25 bits of randomness

in lieu of a real post.

everyone's doing it, so i did too.
and yes, if everyone jumped, i'd be right there behind them ;)

--::--

1.To some H20 is a necessity. I concur. Only because you need it to make my MUSTHAVE beverage of choice – coffee. I have been known to sometimes guzzle 5 venti’s a day. A dash of milk and no sugar, thanks!

2.I have a serious clutch/bag addiction but only so far as owning them. I feel an unmistakable desire to complete the purchase and then it sits in a big plastic bin with 50 others waiting for its turn to be trotted out. I think I’ve got about 25 with the tags still on.

3.My biggest weakness is my inherent fear of failure. It also happens to be one of my biggest strengths.

4. I have a shelf full of gorgeous notebooks, each with a few neatly populated pages. None of them have been used more than a handful of times. It’s a sickness I tell you.

5. I heart tropical everything. My life would be perfect if I could transport all the parts of it to a hotter climate. My secret dream is to move to Sri Lanka / Dubai / Malaysia and bask in sunshine all day.

6.I always need to sleep with my toes covered, regardless of how humid it is. I have an irrational fear that exposing my toes would be an open invitation for some type of insect, to suck the life blood out of me. Growing up in the tropics can do this to you.

7.Breakfast is my favorite mealtime - hands down. I could eat Buttermilk Pancakes, Waffles or Bombay Toast all day & never get bored.

8.I used to be a copywriter that hated being told what to write. Oh, and detested writing short copy. That probably explains why I’m on the accounts side now.

9.I laugh when I’m nervous. I thought it was a good thing. Pissed-off clients think otherwise. So I'm working on learning to stifle the urge.

10.I can’t stand wine – red, white or iced. Hard Liquor on the other hand – I’m A-OK with that! It sure doesn’t make for romantic candle lit meals though!

11.I love cake. When I went to Sri Lanka, they had to restrain me from spending my entire vacation at Royal Bakery. They’ve got the best chocolate cake hands down. Green Cabin would be second.

12.I must wear a watch at all times. And I always have a favorite. When said favorite dies, i go through an emotional process before picking the next one.

13.Once I get into a routine, it becomes the “only” way to get something done. Ex: Cleaning. I got up at 7am on a Sunday last year and cleaned the entire place in an hour. Now I firmly believe that a 7:00am cleaning session is the only way to start a Sunday.

14.I hate talking about money but enjoy spending it ☺ My BFF and I share this trait, amongst others.

15.I can bite my toe nails. Not that I do. Anymore at least.

16.I love looking at people’s photos (new or old) and albums. In fact, I’ve been known to look at the same albums multiple times on multiple visits. Yet I enjoy every time, like it was the first.

17.I come from a family of poseurs. When a camera comes out, watch out world, we all think we’re the next Lakshmi Menon.

18.I used to be a theatrical kid and put my skills to good use while I was in junior school. One year, I played Good King Wenceslas in a Christmas play. I think they picked me because I was the jolliest (re: chunkiest) 10-year old they could find. I won an award for being a chubs.

19.My mom used to dress all three of us girls alike (fave outfit: these tee's with our faces on it). It looked fine on Rama and Rashi since they were only a year apart and looked incredibly similar. Me on the other hand, I always looked like a giant with these faces swimming in my belly.
(Strangely, these days, Rama and I get confused for one another all the time.)

20.I am a sucker for a good madras kappi (Bru rocks). I think that’s what sealed the deal with Mikey - date #4. We were at Madras Dosa Hut and he expertly mixed my coffee madras 'tumbler-to-dish’ style and had me hooked.

21.I must speak to my family at least once a day. Even when I travel overseas, much to the chagrin of my husband.

22.I am accident prone to the nth degree. I spontaneously trip over my own feet, walk into things, drop things on my extremities - it's like i have to meet a minimum # of band aids used everyday, sorta rule.

23.I used to read the dictionary for fun. On weekends especially. Sometimes, I still do. The thesaurus was for really special occasions only. Like Birthdays.

24.I love trying different types of food and it’s so easy to do that in a city, like Toronto, that thrives on its multicultural DNA. Thai food would have to be my favorite type of cuisine.

25.I love libraries but have a love-hate relationship with library books. I hate people who feel the need to leave bits of their lunch between the pages. Or even worse, the margin-writers! Hence I buy most of the books I want to read.

--::--
surprisingly, i wrote this in 30mins at work. and i had to scale the list back.

i am obviously far more random than i gave myself credit for.


yup, only monday.

one word.

is all it takes.

another random survey.
only rule: the answer has to be just one word.
(inspired by shirls)

here we go:

1. Where is your cell phone? clutch
2. Your significant other? restless
3. Your hair? overgrown
4. Your mother? lovely
5. Your father? cuddly
6. Your favorite food? Thai
7. Your dream last night? uneventful
8. Your favorite drink? coffee
9. Your dream/goal? passion
10. What room you are in? hall
11. Your hobby? shopping
12. Your fear? failure
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? laughing
14. Where were you last night? Movies
15. Something that you aren't? Consistent
16. Muffins? Cake
17. Wish list item? Fiji
18. Where you grew up? Canada
19. Last thing you did? groceries
20. What are you wearing? lululemon
21. Your TV? off
22. Your pets? kitties
23. Friends? Family
24. Your life? Family
25. Your mood? content
26. Missing someone? nobody
27. Car? Honda
28. Something you're not wearing? Ring
29. Your favorite store? JCrew
30. Your favorite color? orange
33. When is the last time you laughed? today
34. Last time you cried? January
35. Who will resend this? nobody
36. One place that I go to over and over? home.

Independence Day

05°56'N 79°58'E

That’s where I was born. And yesterday, amidst cluster bombs, hostile take-overs and countless lives lost, the island turned 61. The political lips paid service to their achievements blanketed by false bravado while in the north, another bomb wiped out a lone standing hospital. With patients who had no doubt traveled to find medicinal relief from their pain and suffering. Big surprise: came for a Tylenol. Went. Back. Dead.

Happy Birthday Sri Lanka!

Sixty-one years of independence. The celebrations of a much sought after freedom from a country that left its imprint by significantly scarring the identity of the island. Unmistakably. They came together then. It was probably the last time the Tamil folk saw eye to eye with the Sinhalese majority. Like displaced children, the island now hobbles along. Survival, being its only goal.



And cloistered in the warm glow of those sixty-one years is the hidden pearl of Ravana. A fifty-year old civil war. One that has effectively eradicated the idea of Sri Lanka being the Isle of Serendipity. The only hidden jewel on the island these days – is the rampant unpredictability that is a mainstay. There’s so much beauty there but once the government is through with their grenade-play, who knows what will be left for the outside world to see.

My history will always remain inaccessible, just like that. A past learnt through stories told and lives lost. Make shift graveyards, mass funerals, ration cards, no lights, and no hope that the situation will be resolved– that’s what tinges every memory I’ve ever been privy to hearing. Their tear ducts have cried themselves dry. The well of their emotions, dry after each pail drew more out. Some things just don’t replenish themselves. To me, there is no freedom in that context. No freedom of speech, thought or action when even your memories are molested, raped and pillaged by faceless ghosts of a past you will never understand. Let alone accept.

It’s alarming that nobody I know remembers it the way I do. In the folly of my youth, I must have collected those droplets of Ceylon perfection and stored them like tamarind seeds in air-tight tins, stashed away to be found by a displaced and slightly jaded North American.

To me, the island is like a beautiful painting that once thought it could. And THAT makes me just a tad sadder than I already am.

--
I lied. The only other person who remembers things the way I do is probably my BFF.

It’s just one of the many many things we share. That’s why I love her the best. Because she has the same memories as me – and when you have a childhood that involved packing up and moving around a lot – you really appreciate the one or two consistencies in your life. For me, it was her. Regardless of the boarding school, I always knew that BFF was a couple of buildings down glad that we were in this together.

It’s the one thing that got us through a lot of different things. And yet these days, connecting with BFF has been harder than it ever has been.

You see, my BFF is getting married. She is getting married to someone who is incredibly interested and involved in the wedding planning and process. Good for them! I mean, how often do you see a groom that’s interested in EVERYTHING? (Including the bride’s makeup choices!* I can be so catty when threatened.). But, here’s the larger question – where does that leave me? I had an unsettling conversation with BFF last night that left us both sad, broken hearted and weeping ourselves to sleep.

The general impression she has is that as her BFF I should be more involved and know more about the details of their wedding. Agreed. She pretty much ran the entire year and a half before my big day. But, I didn’t have a groom that wanted to be involved in the big things, let alone the details. The other thing is that my BFF isn’t the most “bridey” of all brides. I mean, at least I was okay with talking about the wedding – she usually turns grumpy and sour when the wedding is brought up. She’s just not that into the planning phase of things. Strange –because she was all over it for mine. I mean, it was more like her wedding than my own. And I was grateful because I wasn’t really into the details either. But with BFF, nobody brings up the wedding because we don’t want to upset her.

And last night, I realized that it upset her that we weren’t trying to push our way in and get involved.

So where do I fit into this equation? What am I Supposed To Do?

I have a BFF that I absolutely adore. A soon-to-be Brother In Law that wants to keep the planning process under wraps – involving just himself, BFF and my dad on select occasions. And then there’s BFF herself – she’s definitely the Gayle to my Oprah – and yet last night, I felt like we had both let each other down in a fundamental way. She thinks I don’t care about her and her impending nuptials. (Which is enough to make me livid – because how.can.you.not.notice.how.much.i.care?!?!) And because I care so much, I try not to upset her fiancée by being myself (the bully that tells people how things should be done). Instead, I tip toe around wishing I could be more involved and return to those days of late night conversations about silly things like napkin colours, overlays and the song our parents will walk in to!

I would love to be all up in this – looking at options, making decisions, bustin’ serious vendor balls– I thrive on this type of thing. But one of the most important things in my life is my relationship with BFF and I don’t want to say or do anything to jeopardize that in the long run. And so I’ve kept myself out of the loop and I’ve been extremely un-involved. To the point where it makes me sad and is probably collecting particles to become the big ball of resentment. Dysfunctional much? Probably. But heck, at least I can self-diagnose it!

Argh. I am so frustrated. Sad. And taking it all out on my poor hubs. His only mistake was to marry my overly-emotional, manic depressive behind. Oh yes, and he married my family. A typical 5 for the price of 1 Sri Lankan Deal!



Don’t get me wrong, I heart coming from an estrogen driven family. Usually. But, these are the types of misunderstandings that get in the way of our standing order of laughter and good times. And just this once, I’d like to be able to say: …next! And move the ‘eff on. But a little birdy tells me there’s probably a lot more of this to come before July 11th 2009.

Top 10 moments of January 2009

A new tradition, for a new year. In an attempt to capture the moments of every month, I will attempt to compile a commemorative list of every month.

1.New Year’s Day: realizations and revelations abound. I finally understood that to be an independent adult, I had to learn to flutter my own wings and fly. Shortly after that I realized that I CAN have it all – nobody can compromise my beliefs except myself.

2. Discovering www.kottu.org - a Sri Lankan blog aggregator. It's interesting seeing how the other side of the world relishes this seemingly elusive identity of being Sri Lankan.

3.Pongal 2009 whispered it’s way in and straggled out amidst the craziness of snowstorm after snowstorm. January has been brutal.

4.Having Vaxi aunty inaugurate our crib by accepting a lunch invite. It was super! I realized I love entertaining, even if it does involve a lot of work.

5.Bride Wars with the girls – bad movie but great times. I heart being part of a trinity. The older I get, the more I can count on my siblings. I heart that times a trillion.

6.Mikes and I discovered a common love for tilapia, spinach, chicken potpies and soup in our efforts to eat in more (last year we ate out 3 nights a week + the weekends). We’ve got a nice little marital routine going when it comes to our endeavors in the kitchen. I'm starting to find my groove as a wifey :)

7.Watching Thatha cut his first cake in 75 years and simultaneously realizing how much we have. And incidentally, how lucky we have been.

8.Realizing that I want a little person too. One day. With Mikes. Only.

9.Books relished this month: Michael Ondaatje’s ‘Anil’s Ghost’ , Meera Syal’s ‘Life isn’t all hahaheehee’ and the first 72 pages of ‘Love Marriage’ (I was completely wrong. And blinded by my own insecurities. The novel is becoming a worthy and memorable read. And in good time too.)

10.Fave purchase of the month: Gray nail polish after months of relentless searching. Closely followed my incandescent dance with jcrewing online. Oh yes, and realizing that lying to my warden is probably not the best of ideas, in the long run ☺

And this month is especially, special. Because today, I realized how little I know about the conflict in Sri Lanka. My brain has been assaulted by the many news stories. Human chains and protests in Toronto. And I, found out, just like the rest of the unaffected population did. On tv. And yet, these are supposedly my people. This is apparently the story that has influenced my entire journey - or that of my parents at least.

So my goal for Feb 2009 is to educate myself. I want to really understand the situation there. It’s alarming that we’re using the word “genocide” to describe what Tamil people are going through in Sri Lanka. I want to know more so I can figure out how I can make a difference and be a part of the solution. Not as an International bystander. But. As. A. Sri.Lankan. Ambitious much? Might be. But heck, Bringiton!

And with that I bid January, adieu!

Pointless but poignant

How far do you have to fall before you realize you’ve fallen?

Is it the phonetic echo of the thud when your bum grazes twice glazed cherrywood flooring? Or is it the physical drop of your heart floating in the juices of your belly as someone’s lips delivers news it can’t bear to entertain? Or could it be all the moments in between that first feeling of “uh oh” and “this sucks”?

And most importantly, if you fall when nobody is watching, does it really count?

--
the above is not meant to be cryptic at all. I actually don’t know where it came from – all I know is that I opened a blank document and my fingers threw up a gargantuan mess that assembled itself into something. Something to ponder at least.

PONDER.

I don’t think enough people use the word ponder in their day to day lives. I’m going to single-handedly change that. From now on, I will ponder about using the word ponder as often and much as possible. I will be Little Miss. Ponder. Or maybe MissPonderiffic! I see a bright yellow unitard with tangerine swirls and a pink sparkly headband. *sigh* Sure as heck sounds a lot more fun than how I feel right about now.

I feel sorry for the poor suckers in my life that will have to no doubt endure this for the next 2 hours. Who am I kidding? With my special brand of ADD, I’ll move on and forget all about it in 10mins flat.

It’s almost the weekend. And after this week, which has really felt more like 4 long weeks loosely sewn into one, I’m ready for a kitkatbreak from work. Hence the nonsensical rambling…chalk it up to a Friday kinda fever.

I can't wait to curl up with a good read and a yummy espresso.

I must confess

That I am jealous.

Not the garden-variety type of jealous – but the kind that gargles, bubbles and slowly froths deep within the innermost pit of your belly. Somebody turned the internal espresso machine on – and left it unattended.

If I must admit one thing it is that I’ve always wanted to write a book. As many kind and incredibly biased people have told me – apparently I can write. One would hope so considering that I used to be a copywriter in my past life. But the thought of short pithy lines always left me hungry for a little more. The courses I’ve taken on short fiction – have been great and truly encouraging. But the thing is, I lack the fundamental characteristics that are required of a writer: persistence, perseverance and the mojo to keep going regardless of all else that flitters through your world.

My mantra is: one of these days….hopefully in the next 5 years.

So my “book” (insert air quotes here) was always going to be about my relationship with Sri Lanka and the many threads that bind me securely to the country of my birth. And perhaps the underlying reason that lets me embrace my good friend, procrastination, is that partly – I haven’t figured out the seed of my union with that little chaotic jewel in the sea. My one style technique though was to utilize the thirrukurral – hardly a unique tool but in my mind, it all made sense.

And then I picked up this book called Love Marriage by an incredibly talented young, Sri Lankan author. And there in plain daylight was one vein of my story laid out interspersed with verses from none other than the thirrukurral. And my heart sank. The first thought I had was: uh oh, I guess I did wait too long.

But I went ahead and tried to keep an open mind as I sat down to devour the book. And I kept stumbling. Now initially, I chalked it up to my childish nature – so maybe I was a little bitter that someone beat me to the punch – although the rational me did realize that my punch was entirely different but set in the same context. And that’s okay. A trillion books have been penned about India – and yet, there are still a trillion more stories to tell. So no worries – right? Right, said the right side of my brain. Umm okay, whispered the left.

So last night, I climbed into bed in my comfy jammies and tried to crack it open again. One deep breath, then another and I still can’t seem to motivate myself to get through the book. I’m embarrassingly on page 35 or something silly like that after a week of “reading”. I’m still working on it. And I realized the reason last night. I lean towards people who can write pictures. Yup, I’m a traitor.

I tend to eagerly fall into the arms of writers who are firmly rooted in imagery. I get lost between the letters that breathe life to vivid pictures where I can choose the colours that would define the emotions being discussed. And I tend to write like that – flowery and filled with pictures. It’s the only way that I feel anything for a character – when I can identify with them.

And this writer – she is far from flowery. Her craft embodies the poise of rewriting. Everything is composed just right – the simplest language tied together in the simplest ways with a distinct tone of voice. But to me, that voice sounds empty. I’m reading her book about a topic that I feel incredibly passionate about and yet I feel nothing. I don’t relate to the characters even though one of them has my name. I can’t get past the clinical nature of her language. It’s no-nonsense. It’s to the point. It’s got little to no punctuation – let alone punctuation play. It’s void of any emotion and the tamasha of life that you create when you play with words and punctuation. Mind you I’m on page 35 only. And maybe it gets better. But right now, it’s a hard mountain to climb – this coming from someone who tracked this book down and threatened more than one person to ensure it got to me in one piece, as soon as possible.

But I’ve got to cut her some slack first novels are always an experiment in tone and voice. And you know what, just because I’m not into straight shooting writing with little to no punctuation doesn’t mean that it sucks. Far. From. It. But then I think of Arundhati or Jhumpa and I’m back to my own sheltered belief of words being the brush you outline pictures with.

I wish I could close my eyes and start afresh.

And maybe that’s exactly what I need to do. Shut it out. And retry in a few weeks.
Maybe round 2 is where the magic meets the mind.

If it's meant to be...

It’s up to me.

don't mind the super random and way more optimistic than i feel quote of the day. if it's meant to be - it's actually not up to me. from 9 to 6pm - it's actually up to my boss. No really, my boss. At work. And after that my other other boss - also known as my husband takes over his shift. And on the weekends, my dad goes back to being the boss of me.

So really, it's rarely up to me :)
Although they are all quite good at letting me believe that I'm the boss of myself. Only when questioned though.

--::--
a little document-able tidbit that legitimizes what I’ve known all along: there is definitely a strand of crazy in my DNA.

So, I lied. Not just “off the cuff” lied but planned, plotted and schemed kinda lied. I did what every wife, jokes about doing but maybe thinks twice before pulling it off. In my case, I did think twice – as in, is this enough or should I add an extra sweater to the lot.

Yup, I did a little jcrewing online. In my defense, I was saving myself and my husband 20% as I gleefully took advantage of their final clearance sale. Hrmph. It would have been nice to be applauded for that. But instead, I got bated out by my own father.

So where did the lying happen? Well, I usually have all my things (mail and packages) delivered to my parents house – I never did get around to changing my addy especially since I always thought of our condo as being more of a temporary type of dwelling. Don’t ask me why – but in my logic – it made sense. Well dad decided to play a game of his own. And this is where you see the effects of a man who has lived thirty odd years in one house with four women. He has obviously picked up a thing or two about vengefully bating one out when he’s got his emotions and panties in a knot.

So dad bates me out. Mikey is surprised. Astonished actually. And I am not a happy or trusted camper. TheybasicallythinkISUCK. Now, the strange thing is that mikes is a big shopper just like myself – so I don’t really know why I lied. Knowing my husband, he would’ve just said: “Oh, that’s pretty – you should totally get it” and yet, I went ahead and lied about it.

I wonder what that says about me. Apart from the fact that in my old age, I’m becoming a pathological liar. My Dad would be so proud. I'm sure he'd say I inherited that from my mom's side of the gene pool.

And now, I’m off to trek through 20cms of once-fluffy-white-stuff to get to the streetcar, then subway, then car. Pray for me. Or even better, buy me a ticket to some tropical country. One way will do just fine, thanks.

Baby proofed - or so I thought!

(words of warning: get ready for a long, rambling post minus any editing of any sort - this was written in between two morning meetings without any coffee!)
--

I’ve always been a fence sitter when it came to the topic of babies. I think that they can be incredibly adorable, wonderfully entertaining and such a joy in so many ways. Often to other people.

Because I’m a realist. I realize that I’ve also derived that same type of pleasure from many of my extra curricular activities – shopping, reading, hanging out with my friends, growing my career, nurturing my writing….i’m sure you catch the drift. I’ve never looked at a baby and thought to myself: Now, I’d like to take you home honey.

And in the past, when I have cooed those words to a newborn – it was born out of a feeling of obligation to fawn over someone’s “mini me”. Rather than a real indication of being baby ready or baby-friendly for that matter.

Meeting a newborn, in the past, was always quite the event for me. Sorta in the same vein as job interviews or awkward gatherings. I automatically fear the worst: what if this baby isn’t all that attractive?!?!

Now, I know – it seems silly and nobody with a child would ever agree with what I’m about to say but….. Not all kids are attractive as they bust out of the gates.

And that’s where it gets sticky. I’ve had “meh” looking kids thrust at me by friendly co-workers and acquaintances forcing me to fall back on my good ole faithful tactic of finding something nice to say: I love her booties or Aww, that’s a cute clip or the best, yellow is such a lovely colour on her…I mean him.

Pathetic much? Maybe. But heck, nobody wants to hear that somebody, ANYBODY, thinks their baby isn’t the type of stuff that America’s Next Top Model is made of. I was raised on a diet of "if you can't say something nice, make up something FAST"

Until I had a baby infiltrate my inner circle that is.

T, one of my oldest girlfriends and a habit that I can’t seem to shake, had her first one. I stayed away from her all through her pregnancy, creeped out by this phenomenon. I could barely commit to a hair colour let alone a baby – and that put her in a league of her own. That was five years ago – when I had just met Mikey and was starting to become okay with the idea of committing to one person.

Then I met her. That squishie exquisite smelling bundle we call Rakshaa. She is Ah.Mazing. In all the ways, that I never thought would matter.

I fell hopelessly in love with her chortle, her cheeks, her cheeky lil’ laugh, her chubby lil arms....*sigh*…and when she started saying my name – I could have sworn my heart sang. That girl, broke me down. These days, I’m a baby-loving but still largely, “baby proofed” version of my former self. I’m more comfortable with having kids crawl over me, around me, spit up on me, wreck my prized possessions, take a poo on me, throw up on me….you name it – I’ve endured it. So please, you can take me off the “national baby hater” list that I might have inadvertently gotten myself onto.

Before I met Mikes, I took pride in the knowledge that I wasn’t that into babies. It took a lot of explaining to all the wrong people who had one too many questions. It ranked up there with my: I don't believe in marriage and committing to one of anything - stance.

I liked babies just fine – but I always felt like my life would be full regardless of whether I had a little one pittering and pattering all over my Marc Jacobs or NOT (preferably option 2, thanks). I had other things in my life that I placed in high priority – my family, my friends,my career (that I love), traveling, impromptu events and excursions, the freedom of having a fun lifestyle - unencumbered by baby bags, strollers and the such. A life filled with individual passions, actualized.

Then I met Mikey.

Now Mikey, is one of those rare individuals (that I seem to meet more and more of as of late – a cultural shift perhaps?) who seem to have been born to be a parent. He’s just comfortable around kids and really relates to them in a visceral way. And has always known that he wanted his own.

Before we got married we had the big “b” talk. I agreed that while I didn’t necessarily need a child – I wouldn’t be averse to having one – at some point down the road. A year, five, ten…whose counting! So we got hitched with the knowledge that babies might make an appearance in our coupledom but they certainly weren’t an expectation.

When we got hitched, all our friends were also getting hitched. It was two years of 12 weddings a season – lots of dressing up, manning up and having a great time at one party or another. It was the remake of 27 dresses – aptly named 27 sari’s. But then something happened.

Our group of late twenty somethings who had vehemently held out against early marriages and the such – transformed. Our nights of debauchery have now turned into nights of discussing organic diapers, the role of a soother, the various degrees of spit up, sign language as a way of communicating with a new born etc. In the last two years, we’ve seen a flurry of baby making. Almost everyone I know, in their late twenties and early thirties just had one, is having one, is trying for one or praying every night for the miracle to happen – or some crazy combination of the above mentioned factors.

Gone are the times when they’d cross their fingers and hope it was just a scare! Gone are the days when they’d wait for their period as an indicator that nothing is baking in their ovens. The singular lines of focused prayer that would be chanted begging the powers that be – that next time they would be more careful had disappeared. Now they’ve been replaced with a flurry of disappointed phone calls when the bloody thing shows up – literally!

Mikes and I have been uninvolved in this chaotic hurricane – we’ve somehow managed to stay largely unaffected by the frenzy of shagging with an ulterior motive. Or so I thought.

Afterall we had some major issues to contend with - first.

Everyone who knows me knows that I’m too sweet. Having a baby with uncontrolled diabetes – is not a recommended plan of action. So in the hopes of getting baby ready – I hopped off the “it’s all about me – all the time” bandwagon and started taking those darn insulin shots. Which is good – because at thirty one, apparently my window of opportunity for a healthy and pain-free pregnancy is small and rapidly shrinking.

Mikes and I agreed that we’d start trying (and by that I mean, stop using contraceptives not setting up baby calendars and temperature checks) in June of this year. We figure, it’s apt – 2 years of coupledom have helped us create what is now a much more solid relationship. This April, we turn 6 - which is a pretty good run of great times.

Now, this agreement happened with Jana – still being on the fence about a needing a child to find ultimate fulfillment. We’ve talked about adoption and we know that if we have a little person – we’d definitely want more than one. Which is a concern with my saccharine sweet ailment. So adoption might play a role in our lives as well.

But something happened yesterday.

Yesterday, my very pregger sister in law, was complaining about the cost of having a child – financially, physically, emotionally etc. And she and my mother in law, were discussing all things baby related. And that’s when it happened. That’s when I felt it. My heart inhaled mid sentence and firmly lodged the thought of babies, rompers, cribs and such somewhere on my radar.

I’ve never felt that chord struck, quite so intensely before. For the first time, I had a familiar thought about a completely unfamiliar item.

“I wish I could have that too”. “I wish it were me”.

WHAT?!!?!? I know. I’ve said that about a gazillion things before – all material, all tangible, all envy inducing. But a baby?!?!? For the first time EVER, I felt like I was ready to maybe seriously consider adding a third person to our marriage.

And yes, I am that childish.

I know that there have been tons of moments where I’ve relished being Mikey’s best love. And I know that babies would change that completely. I’ve been told you end up loving them in ways that you didn’t even realize you could. And a small part of me fears that. It unnerves me, this thought of adding a third person into our marriage. An unpredictable character – who can be a pleasure or a nightmare or both. A factor that we won’t be able to control – and one that will change our relationship forever. Hopefully for the better - but I've heard stories from both camps. And chances, are not to be taken.

I firmly believe in having a rock solid boat before inviting strangers onboard. I always thought that I would be happy being “aunty jana” and just that – just aunty. And you know what, I still would be – because who knows, what other complications might exist. But I woke up this morning with a strong need for a verbal throw up session and it was coincidental that a fellow flogette, felt the same way. Mind you, her's was much more succint.

For the first time, I wanted a baby. And that is such a heady realization. It kinda feels like the first moment when I realized I loved mikey – ages before I got the bling that promised other things.


So I know – that when it happens – I will be thrilled. And I know, that even if it doesn’t – the journey and the progress is not so much in having a baby per say – but finally arriving at the destination my husband has been in for at least two years, if not more. It’s nice to finally feel like we are on the same page. And it’s knowing – that if and when it happens – I’ll be ready to embrace the next phase and turn that next page with excitement – as opposed to impending doom.

I plan on having it all. I plan on doing all the things I do now with just an extra addition. I know it will probably be a little more work - but I refuse to think that my life has to stop and alter for that third factor to be integrated. I'm sure some things will alter themselves - we'll find better and easier ways of doing others - but the spirit of our relationship will not change. (she said, pre-baby and pre-spittle cloths)

But heck, until then, I plan on working to keep my blood sugar just right and taking every opportunity I can to continue having as much fun as possible. Because when it happens, it will happen only because we want it to.

And not because, I feel like the slow kid who is constantly a few steps behind the rest of the pack – because I know that’s just silly talk! But a little part of my brain, is still there. left behind - questioning why it always takes her much longer to catch up to the rest of the crew when it comes to matters of the heart.

Courting Destiny

what a delightfully thought-provoking truism.

and one that's been playing on repeat in my head, like kid cudi and his strangely mesmerizing track "day & night". And disguised in that noise, introspection creeps in and begins to motor up it's little engine that always thought it could.

This year, thus far atleast, I find that the days seem to bleed into each other. Colours of one sunset - bright, vibrant and drunk on homegrown toddy - tinge the thoughts and actions of the next.

I assume this is what it's like when you spend your life pain painstakingly assembling 6 yards of personalized silk. To me, this time around the metaphor that rings like temple bells through the ornate halls of '09 is this:
life. feels like. six yards. of. glorious. kanjeevaram silk.

I feel like this life and the lovelies who fill it hand me a constant supply of thread - in varying lengths, a rainbow of colours and consistently - well, inconsistent.

My task, as i've chosen to embrace it, is to keep weaving those threads together, in an attempt to make sense of it all.

Until it eventually personifies this life i'm living. no limits. no boundaries. except the ones that i set for myself,that is. Sadly, the task is not as easy as it seems in passing conversation - afterall, this metaphor assumes that every moment is a contribution made towards that story being woven.

And my life is a constant struggle because i'm not willing to accept just any tired, ole' life. i want it all. ah, i know, the folly of my egocentric north american ways. i work at living a life where the focus is firmly affixed on pleasure, passion and a vehement stance against mediocrity. and this means constantly questioning everything and accepting nothing but the past as concrete.

this sari that i weave is enveloped in the remains of my daily courtship with destiny, fate and karma. i am but the person i am because every action (yours and mine) has an equal and opposite reaction.

--::--

while flipping through the dailies today, buried between the Obama drama i found another morsel of news that rang true. it was penned in regards to the chinese new year celebrations that will paint Toronto in a sea of red envelopes, lanterns and tasty dim sum. when asked to comment on his schedule, a Chinese-Canadian event manager said this:

"The Chinese-Canadian's here are more Chinese than the Chinese in Hong Kong".

hmm. so it's not just Indo-Canadians that are plagued by this lack of true national identity that drives them to treasure every inflexible ritual in the hopes of making them feel more of something.

while the Tdot is a beautiful and tremendously organic city vibrant with the colours of a thousand different threads, a luke warm sense of sadness underlies it all. we ( as a collective) are all clamoring to hold on to whatever remnants we have from our own national pasts, led by our faulty memories and hearsay. And in the comfort of that process, we've inadvertently married ourselves to memories of a frozen past and have indeed taken a step away from evolving culturally.

i know it's true in the case of most SL's in Toronto. there's a huge population that left the war torn island fleeing with nothing but their shell shocked memories. and in their little cultural cul-de-sacs they've recreated an SL that doesn't exist - atleast not today. i don't know too many SL's personally because well they've always given me the creeps - close minded, firmly stuck in their pasts - their lives a testament of how oppressive one's culture can be. yet while i was in SL, i thoroughly enjoyed it's residents - forward thinking, liberal, and filled with all sorts of goodness that makes someone a pleasure to be around.

someone dropped the ball people... and there's the seed of something literary in that insight - variations of it have been mined dry in the past - but i think a fresh take or two still waits to be harvested by the right mind.


--
another post about nothing *yawn* sometimes you need to get through these painful ones to hit a chunk of gold.

heck, atleast it gave my fingers a good workout.

one more sleep to that TGIF feeling.

i wish

i was watching history unfold.
instead i sit here sullenly typing this sorry-ass post.

i heart my job but honestly don't clients know that big things are going down today? who sets up a meeting from 8:30 to 11 am on Inauguration day?

c'mon people, YOU are getting in the way of life. i think it hurts even more because i can hear our creative guys watching it in the studio and me, i'm stuck, discussing growth opportunities.

*sigh* i guess i'll read about it in the newspapers like other less than fortunate souls.

you

are on my mind.

and on the minds of thousands, around the globe, who will no doubt cluster around television screens, pulled by a force larger than themselves - magnetically, inexplicably - they will wait with bated breath.

and it's quite fitting actually.

that today came after yesterday.

yesterday marked the day when one chocolate-skinned man, decades ago, spoke of a dream when everybody else refused to stand up and speak out. and today, another caramel toned brother will step up on the podium and loudly proclaim that "yes we can" - hope in something larger than what we've had in the past.

i refused to be caught up in the oba-mania spreading like wild fire, globally. but i would be lying if i said a little part of me isn't magnetically drawn to the force that is Barack. Change is on it's way people - whether it's big, small or revolutionary.

the media sits waiting, ready to pounce. the world, with bated breath speak of the "weight of the world" resting on his shoulders. communities, are rallying for the cause of good. But all of it is relative to what we've experienced globally in the past. Nothing will change overnight. Nothing will fix itself so purely that the world will return to a pre-apple-thiefing-eve rosiness. But today, we are once again making history folks - scratch that, we are living history.

but one thing is sure - folks, it is time for a change. and Barack is endearing enough that I can't help but get excited for him.

and for all of us.

whether we succeed in the fight against evil , one thing is certain - we certainly will give it all we've got because YES.WE.CAN.

the truth is..

"i'm a writer, i use people for what i write" - sharon stone in basic instinct.

unintentionally of course, i find myself storing away little details. the way a man raises his eyebrow and cocks his head when a PYT struts past him - his eyes sending hurried instant messages. the way a mom instinctively puts her hand out to hold her child back from bounding down the stairs in front of them - even though they've probably done this a dozen times before. the nervous laughter that punctuates a sentence in the hopes of covering up awkwardness - boy/girl, girl/girl, boy...you get the picture, i'm sure. it all gets collected, sorted and thrown into piles for pickling. the fermentation process is sketchy but they exist in their neat little jars on a cerebral shelf - feather dusted every once in a while when i stomp through the place, ripping things apart in the hopes of discovering one little thought stuck in a jar of brine - still waiting to become just right.

this weekend was a varied mix of goodness and growth.

friday night - we joined some of mr.man's friends for a night of arabic food and memories of their lifetimes in dubai, eons ago. The shawarma was no match to the delightful handfuls that you get at Yahala Shawarma in Karama, Dubai. No joke, those were by far the tastiest little wraps I've ever consumed and for a measly 3 dhiram's at that. No matter, Paramount, the restaurant we hit up, had all sorts of other authentic goodies - from Zaffer sprinkled cheese pizza type delicacies to mouth watering hummus and fresh ballooned pita's...it was definitely a night of reminiscing and laughter. the night ended at our place after the guys trekked down nostalgia avenue and watched a retrorific superman flick.

saturday was another fun filled day. First there was our brunch at saravana's - the only time we get a hit of real south indian food in our monotonous routine of sautee'd this and stir fried that. I got some mouth-watering rava kichadi and kesari. tres-yum. we then watched basic instinct - which i had never watched fully much to Mr.man's chagrin. it was okay. i still felt it was more porn than movie. The plan for the evening was to hit up a 75th birthday fam jam - it was the first time that thatha had ever cut a cake - in 75 years. And I think i found a new localized cake lady - woot woot! Driving on a blanket of snow would have been much more ideallyic had the traffic been bearable - but with 4 car spin outs littering the 401 - our 25min ride took us 2hours. No matter, the family fun that followed more than made up for it.

sunday - today was supposed to have been my day of familial bliss. the breakfast and movie club had a much-anticipated meeting set up - except mother nature took a poo all over it. with 15 cms of nastiness on the ground - i was stuck in sauga with mr.man. i was incredibly bummed and so mr.man went out of his way to make sure i had a good time. we did a little browsing, a little shopping ( i finally found some GRAY nailpolish and I bought an awesome little dress), a little canoodling and then it was sunday dinner with the inlaws - a regular ritual in my existence.

And that's when i realized how good i have it. My MIL is probably one of the nicest ladies around. She's smart, funny, interesting, fashionable, witty and well connected with the world. And she's fairly non-intrusive. And when she does judge me - she keeps it to herself - which works great for me. So it's easy to be her friend. And while I was bitching and moaning about the few hiccups we might have - never have i taken a moment to be grateful that she's so wonderfully approachable and always open to anything i might have to say. AND she loves my family.

Now, that folks - always seals the deal.

Also, this weekend i missed my bfg. These days we keep missing each other and the truth is that its starting to grate on both our nerves a little. So this tuesday night we have a date and then the three of us will watch Bride Wars. Which i'm sure isn't worth talking or writing about but heck, it's a nice little fluffy number that i'm sure we'll all enjoy as a time pass.

This coming week promises to be hectic. But here are two promises i hope to keep for the next 5 days.

1. Talk to my BFG every day - even if it means i have to phone stalk her until she's tired of me.
2. Go to the gym atleast 3 times this week - and no, getting dressed, going down there and then turning around and coming back home does not count.

grr...sunday-nitis is the worst and this coming from someone who loves her job.

--

Lest I forget, i saw this wicked documentary on sri lanka and the kathirgama festival. Appa used to tell me that when i was super young, we used to go to kathirgama every year when i visited SL. I must make a point to go there the next time I hit SL - which at this point in time looks like it might only happen at the end of this year. No matter, it definitely gives me something to look forward to.

--
time to hit the sack and dream of something special enough to pen in the AM.

a silly little survey

and boy oh boy, do i ever love these. They are the best "time passes" ever!

-- the j 55: who's yo daddy now?!? -- (completed over two days)

1. What is in the back seat of your car right now?
Kleenex. Because with this type of crazed weather - you need all the help you can get. A better question would be "what's in your dickey?" (i heart that term..it reminds me of araliya's, thambili and doing no wrong)

2. What's your favorite curse word?
The f-bomb of course. Although I am exploring incorporating the following into my rhetoric: you smelly pirate hooker

3. Name 3 people who made you smile today?
My bff, M and Ammio

4. What were you doing at 8 am this morning?
Sitting on the Gardiner – waiting for someone to move from the parking lot we call a highway

5. What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
Briefing the creative team on a new project

6. What will you be doing 3 hours from now?
Watching a flick with Mr.Man and his mansome friends. Can we say, sausage fest?!?!

7. Have you ever been to a strip club?
Nope. Because quite frankly i find nothing aesthetically pleasing about pee-pee's or vajayjay's for that matter.

9. What is the last thing you said aloud?
Pee-pee. Hmmm, i still use the same word I did when I was 12 to describe the male genitalia.

10. What is the best ice cream flavor?
Ice cream? I can't stomach it. Sorbet/Gelato on the other hand - *slurp* - I would have to go with lemon/lime, closely followed by raspberry.

11. What was the last thing you had to drink?
Coffee - never deny an advertising accounts jerk her version of water. Not unless you want an unexpected brief that is :)

12. What was the last thing you ate?
A sorry little mandarin orange. I wish they came peeled.

14. Have you bought any new clothing items this week?
Yup. A chocolate brown cardi and a white swiss dot shirt.

15. What's the last sporting event you watched?
The Raps play the Celtics.

16. Who is the last person you emailed?
One of my clients

17. Ever go camping?
Briefly. Literally, I got there, freaked out and wanted to get back home asap. Then I called my dad and asked him to drive 2 hrs north of toronto to pick me up. I'm a...what do you call those people....PUSSY. Everything scares me - the dark, the bugs, the sounds...eeek!

18. Do you have a tan?
According to white people, yes. I love feeling my skin burn in tropical heat though - so according to me, NO.

19. Do you drink your soda from a straw?
I don't do soda. And when I do, it's usually in a glass.

20. What did your last IM say?
What the hell is Nihari?!?

21. Are you someone's best friend?
Yup and it warms the cockles of my heart :)

22. What are you doing tomorrow?
Breakfast with Mr.Man, Seeing above mentioned BFF and my peeps at a fam jam!

23. Where is your mom right now?
At Home. 54 kms away from me.

24. Look to your left, what do you see?
Stacks of paper work. competitive reviews. client files. A constant reminder of my neverending workload. TGILoveMyJob.

25. What color is your watch?
Metallic chocolate brown. I'm sure DKNY has a name for it.

26. What do you think of when you think of Australia ?
My crazy cousins and the Gold Coast.

27. Would you consider plastic surgery?
Ummm, if you know me you totally know I would consider it - theoretically. But if you know me, you also know that I would be too afraid of the pain to actually follow through with it.

28. What is your birthstone?
Don't know and never thought about it.

29.How many kids do you want?
Anything except one. I think having an only child is a curse worse than death. I'd rather have zero than 1. So 2 or more. I'd like to create my own lil' world vision camp.

30. Do you have a dog?
My parents do. A little puggle. He's naughty but lovable. Kinda like the three of us.

31. Last person you talked to on the phone?
Mr.Man - he's picking me up in 20 mins.

32. Have you met anyone famous? (sat morning answers)
When i was young - Nadhiya. This tamil actress. I remember her wearing loads of makeup and everyone in boarding school fawning over her fame and drooling all over my photos. I on the other hand, had no idea what the heck they were going on about! In my adult years, Rohinton Mistry. I cried when I met him. Pathetic? Maybe. But heck, he's better than any boyband in my books.

33. Any plans today?
Well since its now tomorrow, i'd say yea - i've got a jam packed day that I rolled into a little later than originally planned.

34. How many states have you lived in?
None. Countries on the other hand - that's another discussion.

35. Ever go to college?
Yup. And university. I read and write good.

36. Where are you right now?
On my couch in my jammies nursing a cup of starbucks. God, I love Mikey's tassimo. I just named him Marley.

37. Biggest annoyance in your life right now?
My diabetes. But heck, that's always the effin pain in my kundi.

38. Last song listened to?
Love locked down.

39. Are you allergic to anything?
Ignorant people, making breakfast at the condo, mopping....the list could go on and on and on

40. Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time?
These days my fugly North Face geriatric snow boots - it's the caddy of snowboots but uglier than sin.

41. Are you jealous of anyone?
Mmm lots of people - whole continents of them - who get to bask in warm sunshine and tropical rains all year round.

42. What time is it?
10:38am

43 Do any of your friends have children?
I'm at the phase where everyone i know is pregnant, thinking about it or trying really hard. Everyone's got babies on their brain - including my daddy.

44. What do you usually do during the day?
I'm an accounts jerk that used to be a copywriter - so my work days are filled with loads of psychology (i've always got someone in my office with an issue about something), strategic thinking and making things happen.

45. Has something upset you lately?
Not enough to awaken the volcano that rests within.

46. Do you use the word 'hello' daily?
Or some version of that concept. Usually i'm an "hola" / "whas'happenin?" kinda girl

47. How old will you be turning on your next birthday?
Twenty five...for the 7th time. Crap.

48. Have you ever been to Six Flags?
Nope. And i'd like to keep it that way - I'm shit scared of rollercoasters.

54. How did you get one of your scars?
The one on my left hand - impatiently trying to cut some sugarcane. That's another story for another time.

55. What is your best personality trait?
I'm a whiney, high-maintenance, diva that's a heady combination of a variety of oxymorons. Yup, that's my best personality trait.

--

Now, it's time for some Saravana Bhavan love and maybe a jaunt to Chapters. Yay, to a lazy saturday morning.

even in death....

his truth shall ring in the ears and echo in the minds of the reflective few - transcending geography.

A lot has been happening in Sri Lanka. More so than usual. SL is a country where you could lose your life for more than one reason - none which would resonate with a rational human being. Being a controversial journalist, albeit a brave and courageous one, is similar to drawing a massive red target on yourself. Your lease on life is exactly that - a lease. One that can be terminated at any given moment by either side.

That's what happened to Lasantha.

Lasantha Wickrematunge, 50, was stabbed and shot to death in broad daylight last Friday (Jan 9th) as he drove to work at The Sunday Leader, the liberal Colombo-based newspaper he edited. As most people in his position, he knew that the work he did would eventually catch up to him considering the climate of his contextual existence. In preparation, he wrote his own eulogy. I've attached it below, for memories sake.

I wasn't going to blog about this. Mostly because his murder does not afflict the bubble in which I exist. And in true human fashion, if something doesn't directly impact my life - it's worthy of a few ummm's, ahh's and cursory remarks - but then it's brushed aside to make way for the really important things in my life. Like sales for instance - JCrew is having one (extra 20% off their already marked down stuff), obsessing over driving in the snow, the conundrum of which flick is worthy of a sunday matinee date or the Obama fever that does impact my mostly placid Canadian existence.

Superficial? Totally.
But is it real? Do we all do this? Absolutely.

Does that make it right? Absolutely Not.

Perhaps now is a good time to get someone to change that freaking bulb so the switch can finally go on.

I have always had an incredibly organic relationship with SL. It's like a set of behaviors neatly labeled and set aside for the right time and the right place. It emerges, rumbling awake from it's dormant state, at the strangest triggers. I still haven't figured this part of my life out.

I'm constantly questioned about my ethnicity. I'm not tamil enough for the tamil folk. Not Sri Lankan enough for the Sinhalese folk. Not brown enough to exist anywhere wholly. I seem to be part of that generation that's caught between different worlds. Constantly defining my culture. Consistently trying to prove that I am in fact worthy of my nationalities. And it's tiring. The tread marks of getting run over by skeptics, at every turn, is starting to slow the mojo down. I can't get over how often I've tried to be "more" of something to no avail. It always comes down to the fact that I'm too white, too Canadian, too disengaged, too far gone - to belong. To any one place - fully.

And somewhere in my twenties it clicked.

All I have to do is be me. And I will be as Sri Lankan and as Canadian as only I can. And that is okay. It doesn't matter if I fit their definition - because nobody walks in my shoes - except me. Simple I know - but for me, it's been a journey. well, more like an uphill battle...not that I'm bitter about it or anything ;)

Like others, my perspective of the world is built on the views of my past. And my past is firmly rooted in the happenings of a broken Sri Lanka. One day, I hope to be able to explain this journey that I've witnessed, perhaps even allude to how it started and the cost of this internal war on our people. Most importantly, one day, I hope to understand it. One day...I'm sure there are lots of us, who feel this way about a lot of things. And in the spirit of that, I wanted to document this event more for myself than for anyone else.

---
'And Then They Came For Me'

By Lasantha Wickrematunge

NO other profession calls on its practitioners to lay down their lives for their art save the armed forces and, in Sri Lanka, journalism. In the course of the past few years, the independent media have increasingly come under attack. Electronic and print-media institutions have been burnt, bombed, sealed and coerced. Countless journalists have been harassed, threatened and killed. It has been my honour to belong to all those categories and now especially the last.

I have been in the business of journalism a good long time. Indeed, 2009 will be The Sunday Leader's 15th year. Many things have changed in Sri Lanka during that time, and it does not need me to tell you that the greater part of that change has been for the worse. We find ourselves in the midst of a civil war ruthlessly prosecuted by protagonists whose bloodlust knows no bounds. Terror, whether perpetrated by terrorists or the state, has become the order of the day. Indeed, murder has become the primary tool whereby the state seeks to control the organs of liberty. Today it is the journalists, tomorrow it will be the judges. For neither group have the risks ever been higher or the stakes lower.

Why then do we do it? I often wonder that. After all, I too am a husband, and the father of three wonderful children. I too have responsibilities and obligations that transcend my profession, be it the law or journalism. Is it worth the risk? Many people tell me it is not. Friends tell me to revert to the bar, and goodness knows it offers a better and safer livelihood. Others, including political leaders on both sides, have at various times sought to induce me to take to politics, going so far as to offer me ministries of my choice. Diplomats, recognising the risk journalists face in Sri Lanka, have offered me safe passage and the right of residence in their countries. Whatever else I may have been stuck for, I have not been stuck for choice.

But there is a calling that is yet above high office, fame, lucre and security. It is the call of conscience.

The Sunday Leader has been a controversial newspaper because we say it like we see it: whether it be a spade, a thief or a murderer, we call it by that name. We do not hide behind euphemism. The investigative articles we print are supported by documentary evidence thanks to the public-spiritedness of citizens who at great risk to themselves pass on this material to us. We have exposed scandal after scandal, and never once in these 15 years has anyone proved us wrong or successfully prosecuted us.

The free media serve as a mirror in which the public can see itself sans mascara and styling gel. From us you learn the state of your nation, and especially its management by the people you elected to give your children a better future. Sometimes the image you see in that mirror is not a pleasant one. But while you may grumble in the privacy of your armchair, the journalists who hold the mirror up to you do so publicly and at great risk to themselves. That is our calling, and we do not shirk it.

Every newspaper has its angle, and we do not hide the fact that we have ours. Our commitment is to see Sri Lanka as a transparent, secular, liberal democracy. Think about those words, for they each has profound meaning. Transparent because government must be openly accountable to the people and never abuse their trust. Secular because in a multi-ethnic and multi-cultural society such as ours, secularism offers the only common ground by which we might all be united. Liberal because we recognise that all human beings are created different, and we need to accept others for what they are and not what we would like them to be. And democratic... well, if you need me to explain why that is important, you'd best stop buying this paper.

The Sunday Leader has never sought safety by unquestioningly articulating the majority view. Let's face it, that is the way to sell newspapers. On the contrary, as our opinion pieces over the years amply demonstrate, we often voice ideas that many people find distasteful. For example, we have consistently espoused the view that while separatist terrorism must be eradicated, it is more important to address the root causes of terrorism, and urged government to view Sri Lanka's ethnic strife in the context of history and not through the telescope of terrorism. We have also agitated against state terrorism in the so-called war against terror, and made no secret of our horror that Sri Lanka is the only country in the world routinely to bomb its own citizens. For these views we have been labelled traitors, and if this be treachery, we wear that label proudly.

Many people suspect that The Sunday Leader has a political agenda: it does not. If we appear more critical of the government than of the opposition it is only because we believe that - pray excuse cricketing argot - there is no point in bowling to the fielding side. Remember that for the few years of our existence in which the UNP was in office, we proved to be the biggest thorn in its flesh, exposing excess and corruption wherever it occurred. Indeed, the steady stream of embarrassing expos‚s we published may well have served to precipitate the downfall of that government.

Neither should our distaste for the war be interpreted to mean that we support the Tigers. The LTTE are among the most ruthless and bloodthirsty organisations ever to have infested the planet. There is no gainsaying that it must be eradicated. But to do so by violating the rights of Tamil citizens, bombing and shooting them mercilessly, is not only wrong but shames the Sinhalese, whose claim to be custodians of the dhamma is forever called into question by this savagery, much of which is unknown to the public because of censorship.

What is more, a military occupation of the country's north and east will require the Tamil people of those regions to live eternally as second-class citizens, deprived of all self respect. Do not imagine that you can placate them by showering "development" and "reconstruction" on them in the post-war era. The wounds of war will scar them forever, and you will also have an even more bitter and hateful Diaspora to contend with. A problem amenable to a political solution will thus become a festering wound that will yield strife for all eternity. If I seem angry and frustrated, it is only because most of my countrymen - and all of the government - cannot see this writing so plainly on the wall.

It is well known that I was on two occasions brutally assaulted, while on another my house was sprayed with machine-gun fire. Despite the government's sanctimonious assurances, there was never a serious police inquiry into the perpetrators of these attacks, and the attackers were never apprehended. In all these cases, I have reason to believe the attacks were inspired by the government. When finally I am killed, it will be the government that kills me.

The irony in this is that, unknown to most of the public, Mahinda and I have been friends for more than a quarter century. Indeed, I suspect that I am one of the few people remaining who routinely addresses him by his first name and uses the familiar Sinhala address oya when talking to him. Although I do not attend the meetings he periodically holds for newspaper editors, hardly a month passes when we do not meet, privately or with a few close friends present, late at night at President's House. There we swap yarns, discuss politics and joke about the good old days. A few remarks to him would therefore be in order here.

Mahinda, when you finally fought your way to the SLFP presidential nomination in 2005, nowhere were you welcomed more warmly than in this column. Indeed, we broke with a decade of tradition by referring to you throughout by your first name. So well known were your commitments to human rights and liberal values that we ushered you in like a breath of fresh air. Then, through an act of folly, you got yourself involved in the Helping Hambantota scandal. It was after a lot of soul-searching that we broke the story, at the same time urging you to return the money. By the time you did so several weeks later, a great blow had been struck to your reputation. It is one you are still trying to live down.

You have told me yourself that you were not greedy for the presidency. You did not have to hanker after it: it fell into your lap. You have told me that your sons are your greatest joy, and that you love spending time with them, leaving your brothers to operate the machinery of state. Now, it is clear to all who will see that that machinery has operated so well that my sons and daughter do not themselves have a father.

In the wake of my death I know you will make all the usual sanctimonious noises and call upon the police to hold a swift and thorough inquiry. But like all the inquiries you have ordered in the past, nothing will come of this one, too. For truth be told, we both know who will be behind my death, but dare not call his name. Not just my life, but yours too, depends on it.

Sadly, for all the dreams you had for our country in your younger days, in just three years you have reduced it to rubble. In the name of patriotism you have trampled on human rights, nurtured unbridled corruption and squandered public money like no other President before you. Indeed, your conduct has been like a small child suddenly let loose in a toyshop. That analogy is perhaps inapt because no child could have caused so much blood to be spilled on this land as you have, or trampled on the rights of its citizens as you do. Although you are now so drunk with power that you cannot see it, you will come to regret your sons having so rich an inheritance of blood. It can only bring tragedy. As for me, it is with a clear conscience that I go to meet my Maker. I wish, when your time finally comes, you could do the same. I wish.

As for me, I have the satisfaction of knowing that I walked tall and bowed to no man. And I have not travelled this journey alone. Fellow journalists in other branches of the media walked with me: most of them are now dead, imprisoned without trial or exiled in far-off lands. Others walk in the shadow of death that your Presidency has cast on the freedoms for which you once fought so hard. You will never be allowed to forget that my death took place under your watch. As anguished as I know you will be, I also know that you will have no choice but to protect my killers: you will see to it that the guilty one is never convicted. You have no choice. I feel sorry for you, and Shiranthi will have a long time to spend on her knees when next she goes for Confession for it is not just her owns sins which she must confess, but those of her extended family that keeps you in office.

As for the readers of The Sunday Leader, what can I say but Thank You for supporting our mission. We have espoused unpopular causes, stood up for those too feeble to stand up for themselves, locked horns with the high and mighty so swollen with power that they have forgotten their roots, exposed corruption and the waste of your hard-earned tax rupees, and made sure that whatever the propaganda of the day, you were allowed to hear a contrary view. For this I - and my family - have now paid the price that I have long known I will one day have to pay. I am - and have always been - ready for that. I have done nothing to prevent this outcome: no security, no precautions. I want my murderer to know that I am not a coward like he is, hiding behind human shields while condemning thousands of innocents to death. What am I among so many? It has long been written that my life would be taken, and by whom. All that remains to be written is when.

That The Sunday Leader will continue fighting the good fight, too, is written. For I did not fight this fight alone. Many more of us have to be - and will be - killed before The Leader is laid to rest. I hope my assassination will be seen not as a defeat of freedom but an inspiration for those who survive to step up their efforts. Indeed, I hope that it will help galvanise forces that will usher in a new era of human liberty in our beloved motherland. I also hope it will open the eyes of your President to the fact that however many are slaughtered in the name of patriotism, the human spirit will endure and flourish. Not all the Rajapakses combined can kill that.

People often ask me why I take such risks and tell me it is a matter of time before I am bumped off. Of course I know that: it is inevitable. But if we do not speak out now, there will be no one left to speak for those who cannot, whether they be ethnic minorities, the disadvantaged or the persecuted. An example that has inspired me throughout my career in journalism has been that of the German theologian, Martin Niem"ller. In his youth he was an anti-Semite and an admirer of Hitler. As Nazism took hold in Germany, however, he saw Nazism for what it was: it was not just the Jews Hitler sought to extirpate, it was just about anyone with an alternate point of view. Niem"ller spoke out, and for his trouble was incarcerated in the Sachsenhausen and Dachau concentration camps from 1937 to 1945, and very nearly executed. While incarcerated, Niem"ller wrote a poem that, from the first time I read it in my teenage years, stuck hauntingly in my mind:

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out because I was not a Communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

If you remember nothing else, remember this: The Leader is there for you, be you Sinhalese, Tamil, Muslim, low-caste, homosexual, dissident or disabled. Its staff will fight on, unbowed and unafraid, with the courage to which you have become accustomed. Do not take that commitment for granted. Let there be no doubt that whatever sacrifices we journalists make, they are not made for our own glory or enrichment: they are made for you. Whether you deserve their sacrifice is another matter. As for me, God knows I tried.

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*sigh* definitely, blog worthy.