Verbal Nirvana

30.03.10

2010-03-30T08:05:00.000-07:00

new area. new house. new routine.

i'm engulfed in the newness of things. And as someone who despises change - i'm dealing with the sheer realization that everything has changed.

don't get me wrong - a lot of it for the better.

but this new life - sure feels different.

21.01.10

2010-01-22T06:46:00.000-08:00

it's amazing how fast things can happen when you and your partner are on the same page and share the chemical reaction of a singular wavelength.

today is the 21st of january. this month has been busier than the last 6 months of our combined lives. we decided to move locales - from mississauga to the eastern most part of toronto. the conversation was had on the 3rd. M being himself, once the decision to move was made, he was ready to jump into the real estate market and buy a place. that was on the 7th. we saw our first houses on 12th, put an offer on one spell binding house on the 13th. lost said house much to our utter and complete dismay (i felt gutted for the next 24 hours). found an equally ah.mazing house on the same street on the 16th. put an offer in and beat the crowds on that one.

the house closes on march 17th.
this place is beautimous to say the least.
1 street down from the lakefront *my dream of living by the water is here*
5 mins to the metro
20 mins from downtown via an express
7 mins from M's brother
10 mns from my folks *insert happy dance here*
15mins from bestie + 1 *insert 30million dollar dance here*
2300sq feet of light and hardwood
and shimmering dreams
i can't wait for the summer livin'....

sigh.
this.year.is. already. kicking. 2009's. kundi.
and i like it :)

the last week however has been insane. we've been prepping our condo for sale. and tonight once my beloved bookcases are moved into storage with 10 massive crates of books - things will calm down a little. and M and I will hopefully find a few moments to grab a drink and celebrate our largest purchase as a couple.

i'm definitely going to use this blog to document the 2010 journey in the hopes of committing it to memory. so stay tuned.

this is me....right now.

2009-12-08T08:19:00.000-08:00

- 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

2009-12-06T17:50:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-23T13:22:00.000-08:00

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.

2009-11-02T09:42:00.000-08:00

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.

2009-10-24T05:30:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-15T10:29:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-02T06:38:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-24T14:32:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-23T07:08:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-22T14:34:00.000-07:00

hoppers on my mind.

*sigh*

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

gah.

hump day ranting

2009-09-16T05:32:00.000-07:00

"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-

2009-09-15T14:58:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-11T06:38:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-10T14:28:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-09T09:17:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-09-09T05:29:00.001-07:00

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

2009-08-25T13:07:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-25T08:55:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-04-27T06:43:00.000-07:00

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

2009-04-13T09:55:00.000-07:00

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

2009-04-09T08:39:00.000-07:00

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

2009-04-02T05:46:00.001-07:00

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.

2009-04-01T10:45:00.001-07:00

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.

2009-02-19T06:13:00.000-08:00

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

2009-02-09T08:52:00.001-08:00

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.

2009-02-07T17:03:00.001-08:00

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

2009-02-06T13:01:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-31T10:44:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-30T13:06:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-29T11:21:00.001-08:00

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...

2009-01-28T13:46:00.001-08:00

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!

2009-01-26T08:18:00.001-08:00

(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

2009-01-22T08:01:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-20T08:31:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-20T05:46:00.001-08:00

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..

2009-01-18T19:01:00.000-08:00

"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

2009-01-16T14:23:00.001-08:00

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....

2009-01-16T09:57:00.000-08:00

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.

---

*sigh* definitely, blog worthy.

"Happy Pongal..

2009-01-14T08:53:00.000-08:00

wishing you and your family all the best" the email said.

And that's when i realized that crikey, once again my brown self had misplaced a date. Mind you, here Pongal is nothing like it is back in India. I don't really remember too many Pongal's in Sri Lanka either. There's only one that stands out. But in India, it's a week filled with religious debauchery.

--::-- The only memorable Pongal in Sri Lanka --::--

I must have been about 7 . I say this without the conviction of factual knowledge, because much like most Sri Lankan children brutally severed from their pasts, I don’t have too many childhood tangibles that traveled with us. The one picture I remember seeing had both my grandparents in it - so it must have been '85 or '86.

Because SHE passed away in ’86 leaving a void that never managed to get filled. Despite our best efforts.

The morning air carried with it the scent of sea salt. And the sullen promise of unpredictability. I can still recall the symphony of the torrential downpour from the night before, leaving everything vibrating in dew as dawn squeaked past it and wiped the slate clean. Water, it cleanses everything in it’s path.

A profound insight, I couldn’t wait to share.

I remember climbing on thatha’s brown leather chair to peek out the window. Yup, there they were. Curled into themselves, shielding their fleshy pink faces from the sudden downpour of stinging hot rain. The lotus’ were her favorite. I used to think the pond existed just so that they had a home. She loved us all that wholly.

My Chithi sauntered out, wrapped in a white sari, the colour earmarked for mourning by Hindu’s. Maybe she knew, subconsciously, that the end was in fact, grazing against the bubble that we lived in – slowly and most certainly eating away at the protective membrane they’d taken years to cultivate. White was just that. The signal that as one thing ends, another inevitably begins.

Our ayah’s with the help of our butler had tied tall moist stalks of sugarcane to the sides of our gate with other Pongal decorations, leaves folded on a taunt twine line, creating a haveli of sorts. I don’t recall 75 IBC road, ever looking that un-Buddhist. My grandparents, Hindu by birth, had always worn their Buddhist affinities on their sleeves. They embraced it, clinging to a way of life they had adopted when they had bought that piece of land. It was their Tamil, Hindu blood that helped build the Buddhist temple across the street from our house – both financially and physically. But on Pongal day, we were Hindu and damn proud of it.

So this was indeed a special occasion. I recall scurrying around the bricks, careful to tuck in my toes, and the two mischief filled toddlers (my sisters), when they got too close to the edge of the driveway. /< Of the round clay pot>/< Of life>.

I busied myself helping light a fire so our pot of blessings can overflow with goodwill and signal the beginning of a new year. I don’t recall much else other than the sound of firecrackers, the milky sweetness of kiri bath, the tingling of lunu miris and the details of the house. Strangely, my surroundings seem to have etched themselves with permanent ink against the building blocks of my childhood. But for the life of me, I can’t recall the details of the people around me.

It’s probably because by the time I was 7, I had already lived too many lifetimes; been on too many journeys. And had much more information to process than my brain was anticipating.

And that’s why I regret the one thing my folks regret the most. The gaping void of having a sparse visual history. All our baby pictures were burned in a fire. I know it wasn’t in the ’83 riots – I don’t think. But to me, it might as well have been. Sri Lanka and our lives finally mirrored each other. We all started anew after that event and our lives began on fresh slates clouded by the memories of too much lost.

Maybe that’s why I’m so camera-happy these days, much to the displeasure of my crew. I carry my lil’ canon around more often than my phone. I have this inherent, fanatical need to document everything. Because to me, pictures paint a thousand words – especially when memory fails and words have a way of recreating themselves.

Which I’m starting to realize more and more, on a first hand basis.

That one photo captured everything- pre.cisely.

My thatha stands by the overflowing pot, wearing a traditional white sarong and a white shirt, he normally reserved for political meetings or his jaunts to the temple across the street. My sisters were in his arms, proudly on display for the singular gaze of an unflinching camera lens. It’s almost like he knew that one day, this would be a defining piece of evidence that we’d re-visit a hundred times, in the hopes of deciphering our past.

And I was there by his side, as I often was. Positioned, slyly. Half-hidden behind him, my features pulled together in an expression of unadulterated defiance. But towards what, I can’t recall. Maybe it was the knowledge that I would soon be placed firmly on an aircraft – sent back to where I rightfully belonged – at boarding school.

Wow. It always astounds me when something tickles a niche of my brain and it throws up memories that it can’t contain any longer. That’s particularly why I have this space – not because I assume that what I have to say is of any interest to anyone – but because, I realize how fast my childhood memories are being replaced by other ones.

It’s almost like being pushed off a conveyor belt – eventually something’s got to give.

--::--

I wish I could say Pongal '09 was as eventful as the ones from my childhood. This year, I spent it freezing my kundi off in -39 type temperatures. Everything seemed to go wrong yesterday – from the traffic to the terrific mushroom & spinach stuffed chicken. I said a silent prayer – not because I have anything to harvest but because at one point in time, this day, was yet another reason for me to return home.

No matter, I will see my fam in less than 48 hours.
w00t w00t.

he

2009-01-14T08:31:00.000-08:00

loves me so.

boys are always a mystery - no matter, their age, ethnicity or any of the other socio-economic or educational factors that play into it.

but you know, you've got a lot of something special when he willing braves -39 temperatures so you can get dropped off right outside your workplace.

i heart his "actions speak louder than words" kinda love.

for right now.

tomorrow? that's a different story.

--

MINUS THIRTY NINE.
*sigh*
today, is a blue day.
and by that i mean, my fingers are slowly turning a shade of frost bitten blue.
and yes, sadly, i am inside an apparently heated office.

thank god i love my job.

--

everyday

2009-01-13T14:05:00.000-08:00

i CHOOSE to love him.

which goes beyond simply being in love with someone. it transcends the glittery sheen of romance that often blinds the frail minded. it wafts beyond the boundaries of butterfly wings and clouds parting and aria's engulfing your soul. it spits in the face of acceptance and embraces one verb - completely. it becomes exactly what it is.

A. Choice.

And I choose in a thousand small ways to love him, every day. I'm fairly certain he's oblivious to this - I'm also pretty sure that he'd be appalled if he knew how carefully my mind scrutinizes our relationship. I've had too many friends venture into love affairs that became minefields trapping them in the cobwebs of their self-manufactured fairy tales. Idealistic and blinded by expectations they were unaware of harboring - what do you call your spirit when it reaches around you and stabs you in the back? And in the essence of once bitten, twice shy - I've learned from mistakes that while not my own, still ripped a tendril from my central artery and whisked it away in the name of empathy.

And now, it's second nature to me. The irony in this is that I. am. THAT. commit.ment. phobe. My spirit refuses to believe that there's only one of anything - ever. My heart refuses to buy into the notion of forever and ever. My brain constantly whispers hurried warnings, lest the world hears the words in my head. But somewhere along the way in the last 19 months - something shifted.

In the last 19 months I've grown into a relationship that is more adult-like than i had ever hoped to experience. A relationship that I treasure not as the most prominent one in my life - but as one that is irreplaceable by any other. I unintentionally watch what I say. My usually forceful tongue holds itself back, willfully. I subconsciously accept small concessions because I realize the absolute greatness of what we have. I concede defeat in petty arguments because it's not worth fighting any more when I know that what awaits me on the other side of forgiveness is joy. And all of this happens without my permission. And I forget the small misgivings and disappointments - my mind doesn't cling to those grudges as it once would have. I treat him like I treat my family.

did someone turn a light on?

I recently took off my wedding ring. Not because it was a nuisance, as I once anticipated it would be. But because I felt my finger was suffocating within it's confines. I was growing around it. Think finger spillage - i had finger fat happening people and it was starting to look quite alarming. So without a second thought, i slid it off my finger and put it away.

Now a while ago, someone told me, in passing, that the reason you wear your wedding band on your left hand is because there is a nerve that connects your ring finger to your heart. Not sure how true it is - but in my mind, it must've found a spot and made itself a home.

Because ever since I took it off, whenever I moved my finger - my heart would physically hurt. Ridiculous much? I know! But no joke, every time my finger would bend, I would feel a physical tug somewhere in my arterial region.

So i put it back on for fear that my psychosis was slowly but surely breaking me down - mentally and now, physically. I'm diabetic people, I can't afford to take these types of chances.

It's amazing what your mind does when your heart is ready to let go. He is right - never will he be my own. Never, will I, the holder of bonds, ever let go of those I consider mine - to let, him in. But somewhere, I guess my heart grew up and grew past it's 5-year-old mentality and accepted one thing: I chose him. He is indeed my most favorite stranger. And for him, I would move mountains to make sure he's okay. As long as he isn't aware of that fact, that is.

Love is an easy word to speak. I say it often and much about shoes, a great cup of coffee, a delicious book. But this type of marital love is work. Just like my relationship with my family is. It's only as beautiful and multi-textured as it is because we all pull our weight - we all pitch in- and we all stand steadfastly behind each other. And now, I have that with him. I'm so blessed in so many ways - that sometimes, I wonder... *sigh*

Clarity is a funny thing - because it always escapes you when you need it the most. But this time I got lucky - in case I forget how awesome I have it - all I'll ever have to do is take off my wedding band to know my heart has found yet another corner to call, home.

okay, you can gag now. I think I just did.

A pretty sappy second post of the day. I'd like to blame the lack of oxygen in my office for this vomit-inducing post. And the fact that it's freezing cold means I can't venture out into the world of self-indulgence. Hence the introspection. Now, it's time to get back to work. Goodnight and until tomorrow.

The great white north...

2009-01-13T06:11:00.000-08:00

got its name for a reason.

And I am paying the price for a decision my parents made 18 years ago.

I am freezing in my little office.

Tucked away in a weathered brick building nestled in the heart of Toronto's Distillery District, I find myself hating this wintery weather even more so than years past. You see, outside my little green windows is a scene straight out of Dickens - softly falling snow, wrought iron gates, cobble stone pathways, winter-friendly flora strategically placed to brighten up the place and of course, the steady flame of antique street lamps. In fact, I live in a novel. Across the street from my building is an English Bakery with authentic EVERYTHING! Envy-inducing? Please, don't let it be.

Get a couple inches closer to that window and cast your eyes downward and you'll notice people slipping and sliding around, ice firmly lodged in-between those charming cobble stones and of course the slush left behind by throngs of foot-traffic.

Beauty comes with it's own price. In this case, a mighty hefty one. Right now, I would willingly trade in my little piece of Dickens to be in the heart of downtown Toronto, in a massive cube-farm, all toasty and warm.

If anyone is willing to do a trade - please do let me know. My only caveat: I only do advertising. Which i realize could limit my trade options :)

Tonight - it's supposed to hit -21 and will feel more like -35.
Y.A.Y. M.E.

Every winter, I wish the same god darn thing. I wish i was back in Sri Lanka - a land fraught with political uncertainty - yes. But, a land enveloped in tropical heat with everything I hold dear - like sun, sand and clear blue seas.

*sigh* it's Tuesday folks and it's time to get back to work.

9 days late

2009-01-09T12:29:00.000-08:00

and right on time.

Happy New Year! This year, I decided to defer a few things right off the bat. Mainly for fear of falling off the proverbial wagon. You know the drill - we make resolutions, set well-intentioned goals and then somewhere between day 5 and day 9 - fall flat on our kundi's or even worse, our faces.

So this year, I started things differently. I deferred new years until the 2nd of January. And blissfully, we turned 2009 a day later than our neighbors and friends.

Now, being the borderline superstitious child that I am, i refuse to verbally ring in 2009 without kissing 2008 goodbye. So here's to '08!

'08 - will fondly be remembered as the year I decided to fight the status quo and stand up for myself, regardless of how petty the want may seem to others. I changed jobs with the support of man that I've grown to love even more deeply than I had in years passed. I re-arranged my priorities, was forced to take off my rose coloured glasses at some points. I retired my nic sticks for good or so it feels. I guess I can say that now that it has officially been 3 months of smoke free fresh air! My perspectives on a lot of things underwent a shift of some sort- relationships, friendships, marriage, family...You name it, it shifted. Not drastically but enough to create a ripple in the sea of my peter-pan lifestyle. Last year will fondly be remembered as the year that my relationships took on even more colour, texture and emotion than ever before - and for being able to feel that and witness it, I'm grateful. I lived without regrets and I survived to talk about it.

And now, it's time to welcome '09. This year I hope to really live my 3.1 motto: Be happy in the moment, that's enough. Because really, that is enough. I can only be responsible for myself and while I can attempt to protect the ones I love - I have to learn to let them test their own wings and fly. In the meantime, I hope '09 teaches me the art of balance. And provides me with the courage to keep growing and living, without regrets.

More to follow....

if your heart breaks

2008-12-15T06:52:00.000-08:00

when you are all alone, does anyone ever hear it?

what if it broke as you were leaving your marital bed, one you've shared for decades, or aeons in your life, worn sheet in hand, palm held to chest - wailing.

wails are strange noises. unaccompanied by tears. gutteral. un.ignorable.

and he didn't ignore them or deny the accusations. his silence confirmed her worst fears.decades dismissed by a flitter of fresh-faced fancy. she knew. and he was glad that she knew because he vehemently believed in continuing on the path of his singular joy.

"what now.." she whispered...the question struggling to get out, muffled between dreams dashed and freshly sprung tears..

"i don't believe in divorce". matter of fact, giving nothing away. no apology, no expectation - just the truth.

and in the middle of the night, between tears that mourned her dreams of a happy old age, they made kalkals. Both sets of hands kneading the dough, mixed earlier in the day - the part untouched by this new disease. They rolled it together on their worn granite counter, the clink of a fork the only sound between them. Eyes averted, lips sealed, they grieved for the veneer they lost, silently.

Inspired by

2008-12-11T14:18:00.000-08:00

the ever-effervescent Sibil.

What are your nicknames?
Jans, Jana-Gana-Mana, Jenna-girl, J-bird, Radhey (musically, of course), Radhakka (my fave),mahaley (swoonworthy - unless it's my dad after he's found a credit card bill...) and the standard kunju/kutti..

What TV game show or reality show would you like to be on?
Dragon's Den. I have these crazy half-baked ideas that would definitely hike up the entertainment value of that show - the guy with the recyclable pizza containers - he's got NOTHING on me :)

And I could totally rock the Canadian Idol try-out bloopers!

What was the first movie you bought in VHS and DVD?
VHS: Oh gosh, I think it might be Sound of Music when I was like 8
DVD: I can't remember for the life of me. My fave dvd though is the Sex and the City box set fosho!

What is your favorite scent?
Incanto, Shine by Salvatore Ferragamo - reminds me of my honeymoon in italy (pretty and passion-filled)

If you had one million dollars to spend only on yourself, what would you spend it on?
ooooh, dangerous question. I'd buy "around the world" trips for my inner circle or maybe a mini mansion in the city. Actually who am I kidding - I'd buy lots and lots of sour skittles. yum.

Do you trust easily?
Nope, not at all. I used to though - too much, too soon. These days, I expect people to earn my trust as they do my respect.

Do you generally think before you act, or act before you think?
I'm an extremist. So i either overthink things and miss the cue to react in a timely manner - or I jump the gun and then am forced to focus on damage control. Obviously being balanced is not a current character trait - maybe in the future though!

Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days?
Yes. The fact that the world around me is aging. Sadly, in my head, I'm living a peter pan lifestyle. But something's amiss. the rose coloured glasses must be fading because the stark realities of this life are slowly creeping up on me.

Do you have a good body image?
I used to. All the time. And these days, I feel slightly removed from that topic. Not sure why. Another 2009 resolution perhaps - be kind to the body - after all it lets the mind create the world it envisions.

What is your favorite fruit?
Right now - raspberries & pomegranate.
Consistently - papaya's, rambutan, mangoes & pomegranate.

Which Web sites do you visit daily?
thestar.com, time.com, facebook.com, bloglines.

What have you been seriously addicted to lately?
Balzac's organic blend, a never ending search for gray nailpolish (not silver people but gray), books (i'm back to devouring anything my eyes feast on)

What's the last song that got stuck in your head?
Sadly, womanizer. It's because she repeats it 38 gazillion times in 4 minutes and I just heard it on my way into work.

What is your favorite thing to wear?
I'm with Sibil on this one - a sari. I don't get too many occasions to rock 'em but, I take immense pleasure when i do. six yards of homespun goodness - sigh. On the regular, I'm in love with my lululemon pants - its the one staple in my closet.

Do you think Rice Krispies treats are yummy?
Love them once they are made and carefully wrapped in cling wrap. Can't stand watching them being made - *shudders*

What would you do if you saw $100 lying on the ground?
a) not tell my folks (they'd make me turn it in)
b) not tell my husband (he'd expect me to put it towards something responsible)
c) put it towards dinner with the sistrens or something of that nature
d) buy 50 bags of sour skittles....hmmm

What items couldn't you go without during the day?

Tangible: my laptop, my coffee, my midnight pomegranate lotion
Intangible: Integrity. And passion. I make sure that everyday I feel passionate about something in my life. It's the only thing that makes the rat race worthwhile :)

like messages

2008-12-11T12:02:00.001-08:00

on steamed mirrors, everything's starting to fray a little. I'm not sure if it's old age knocking against the walls of my cerebrum or if it's something else. Something much more serious. A willful desire maybe ? A conscious effort to erase things and pretend like they never existed ? But, why? The reason escapes me. I've never wanted to forget...in fact, I've tried hard to hold on to every nuance of those spell binding years. Trying to reach back into the crevices of my mind and pull out scents, sounds, textures - but like moss-slick pebbles nestled in a bed of rocks, they've been hard to extract and harder to hold on to.

i guess that's what happens as you grow up and grow out of that fated phase of always looking inward. introspection, another vice.

it worries me. this slow and painful leak. silent yet filled with sound. i can't bear the thought of forgetting all those moments. the good, the bad and the fat, bulbous ones brimming with one hundred and one ill-fated characteristics. i cherish the times, when i find myself re-examining an old memory. those sepia-toned ones that coerce my feelers to caress every nook and cranny, re-learning the way my past has glued the pieces of my present together.

but yesterday, something fell. and while i dropped to my knees to frantically search for that lil' moment, something struck me.

I need to start writing those moments down.because the flip side is acting on them. I must write things down - so as to preserve them in all their nostalgic glory. and more importantly, to prevent them from birthing new realities.

in my mind, they were captured in glass jars like exotic butterflies with wings clipped - to be examined but never fully enjoyed. the sheer fear of losing them, breaking a jar or upsetting the precariously held beings of my past - is terrifying.

and that's why i reached out. i did the unthinkable last week. i did what i said i would never do. i found a long forgotten piece of our puzzle. and then i hit send. damn the internet. damn the ease with which you can reach out - vulnerable yet removed. the last time i saw her was on my terms. She was a vivacious little thing - sparkling brown pools questioning everything, creamy skin and the cheeks we share. she's on facebook and in university. doing law. we talked about that in hushed whispers when she was little. between games, sandwiched between dreams. sisters of the heart. and out of sheer whim, i broke a jar unintentionally. and one little forgotten butterfly enjoyed it's moment in the wind. i messaged her - no ties, arms stiff, mind dry, eyes - blinded by a foolish heart.

secretly.

in response, another part of her puzzle called my house and in no uncertain terms informed us that - there was nothing there.

the ties that once bound our families - no longer existed. i knew that there was no love lost - over time we'd all learned how to move on. but at that moment, i re-learned something again - blood isn't thicker than water. i will always love my mom in a special way because i know what it feels like to have siblings i adore. she gave me what she never had. and that's something i'm incredibly grateful for.

in hindsight, i know it's not that simple. one message can't undo years of unspoken hurt - flittering across oceans, ebbing and flowing in the silences that we've mutually shared. where did the words go all those years ago....and maybe that's why they need to be written before they're acted upon. because atleast that way, i can always go back and check to see the back story on something before i take a leap of faith and end up on my kundi.

--

wow, two things. both scary experiences. this verbal vomit that's cleared my cerebrum - a present for facing both fears. it was starting to cloud things. getting me weepy. but i feel like i haven't written in forever. and the fear of a blank page - electronic or not - was a hurdle unto itself.

i can only hope the language returns. like riding a bike one would say. except, i never understood that. because well, i never did learn how to ride a bike.

shakin' off...

2008-11-21T08:30:00.000-08:00

and sweepin' off them cobwebs.

I can't believe how terribly neglectful I've been in regards to my little online haven. I think it's time to dust this baby up and give 'er a good ole' shining. There's absolutely nothing a little windex can't cure.

I'm going to make a real, concerted effort to be back more often - and post more frequently. I miss the emotional relief this friend brought into my life and I'm going to recreate the "woo" in our relationship.

stay tuned.

mildly bruised

2007-07-31T12:21:00.000-07:00

but still edible.

That's how i feel about this adjustment period. I feel akin to a barely ripe mango in a box with several others on a wobbly old truck - travelling on the mangled back roads of Negombo.

It's amazing how much I've learned about myself in the last few weeks. The things that i'm willing to put up with, compromise on, stand steadfast on, fight for have all evolved over such a short period of time. It's like jana v.2007 just got an update and I'm still trying to integrate this new program into the standardized environment. By no means do i know it all - heck, on most days, i feel like i've barely crossed over into this new world. One foot nervously sits on the new side of this gateway while the other wiggles its toes and buries itself in the familiar.

I guess that's human nature - you tend to become attached to the markers of your life.

The soundtrack

2007-07-19T06:22:00.001-07:00

placed in the parameters of my context - this still makes more sense than much else.

I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I
We've got some straightenin' out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Don't cry
-- Big Girls Don't Cry by Fergie

Fergie!?!? I know! Who would've thunk that something she penned would ever make sense in my life. But it does - for now atleast.

Big, fat drops of rain left me drenched this morning and yet - there's serenity. Mostly because tonight is my night to go home - where the gap closes for a brief moment and I feel exactly as I should - wholesome yet me.

I wonder what I'll miss about Mikey this week. Last week I woke up on friday with a slight inkling that I might've missed his arm cushioning my head. It's one of the discoveries of marriage - I keep finding new ways that communicate this love.

It's thursday :)

Attached.

2007-07-18T14:34:00.000-07:00

and adjusting.

This too will evolve. And that my dear friends is the only certainty as of 5:34pm on a wednesday evening.

May 28 2007

2007-05-28T19:04:00.000-07:00

17 days to go.

Woah.

Right now, the only feelings I can accurately identify are those of fear. Everything's got me emotional - it's like i'm all tied up on the inside and everything opens those flood gates. My tear ducts are worn out - overused like coochies on Queen street hoes - willing to spread eagle and let their essence flow at the drop of a dime. Sad, but it's true. In the last few months, I've become that which i despise the most: an overly emotional suck.

The knowledge that a new chapter waits to be written is terrifying. My innards feel frozen - held firmly in a steadfast grip. And sensing my hesitation, my fingers convulse. The pen waiting to be guided with no guidance at all. Ink splatters bring the inside to the outside - a public announcement of this benumbed state.

Me? Married? In 17 Days?

Heart, don't fail me now.

A thousand half baked thoughts rush through my head:

* What will the 17th of June look like once the euphoria of the wedding(s) wear off?
* Me, someone's wife? Are they being for real?
* Leaving home, where my heart is, to move to another person's home?
* My dad...the sweetness of waking to know that he is merely 2 doors and 6 steps to the right of me. Now what?
* My mom's foaming morning coffee and her special dose of motherly jocularity - on a scale of 1 to 10 - how much will this ache, ache?
* Rashmi's reverberating music - my 5am dj - will i miss it or recreate it with an insomniac ipod?
* Kissing Rama's forehead in the morning, every morning before rushing out - a new ritual? or a picture that i lamely stare at?
* Lighting a lamp in my own sami room - who will i pray with? where will i pray?
* My routine will change..it will have to considering the location change
* Nothing will change at my home - my room will stay the same - except for one little technicality - I won't be in my bed everynight
* am i ready not just to love him but to love his family as wholly?
* Where will i put my stuff? not just the physical crap i've accumulated but the emotional bags i let slide in the comfort of my home.

And these are just thoughts for today. Every day this changes. Every moment feels charged by a thousand watts of un-suppressable energy.

I don't doubt my feelings for him - he is loved just as he is. What i do doubt is my ability to face a blank page - my ability to turn a page that i absolutely adore re-reading, re-digesting, re-affirming on a daily basis. I fear this clean slate. Another new beginning. Joy? Sure, somewhere admist the fear - it's what keeps this ball rolling.

But the sad thing is....Every new beginning is the end of something else.

And this time, it's the end of a very ritualistic existence that has inadvertantly defined me.

I know they won't love me less or vice versa - if anything, absence makes the heart grow fonder. And in our case, that could mean the beginning of a deeper love amongst all five of us- but I'll miss them. I'll miss this feeling of being completely at ease, completely at home, completely me - 24x7.

18 more sleeps. I can only hope that tonight it wraps me tight and keeps me warm in the comfort of knowing that every friday night at least for the first 6 months while we wait for the condo - that i will return. to this sweet, sweet familiarity.

This year in review....

2006-12-31T07:51:00.000-08:00

January 2006
engaged : slightly broke : incredibly confused : scared out of my mind : countless job interviews : extended family drama : hurt feelings : broken relationships : Gopi leaves on her Australian expedition : Rashmi’s sassy plum tank : Rammy’s return from SL/India : presents (like my painting) : the feeling of approaching adulthood : being the only adult clambering on the bunny hill : snow angels with mikey’s angels : a 2nd interview : followed by a 3rd at SCC : 25th started said job : ecstatic : surprised at being so lucky.

February 2006
Rama & Rammy turn 3 : Growing pains at above mentioned job : Rammy’s birthday: chill sessions with my most gorgeous daughter from another womb, Rakshaa : feelings of uncertainty slowly replaced by feelings of comfortable contentment : a Japanese inspired v-day celebration : my fave eternity necklace : the art of war : Rammy got 203 immortalized on his skin : Rammy’s birthday do at Jack’s : Danier for Aunty’s birthday : work, work and more work : Shivaratri : glad to be alive.

March 2006

Girly hair cuts : mother’s day celebration : gift cards made in haste for all three mommies : lunch with les and tera – pre-baby : more Rakshaa : a weekend at Kingston : culture show time : uni town/uni bar – it was apposite : shopping in Kingston : a funky fresh fantastic necklace : I would do me, certainly.

April 2006

Started the month out with a big leap & some big wedding decisions : booked a hall : bought my wedding dress (impulsively) : ‘Where’s your mom?’ – no worries lady, my daddy is just fine : Got a view from her fire escape and a peek into her life (there will be tee’s made that read: I heart suse) : The Sultan’s tent for our 3rd anniversary : 3 years, 1 man, 1 ring – really? : Easter : not so many eggs, but a solid pair of nine west shoes : Dad’s birthday feast at Bombay Palace : Bombay Bling with new found friends : three months at one gig – phew, who would’ve thunk it?!?

May 2006

Rama got the job she so badly hoped for : Gift certs for all three mommies were made in haste: Some lifelong friendships ended and others began : Rashmi (the roomie) & Nilay got engaged : Tia was super preggers : Sibil handed in her single status for a much more joyful ‘attached’ one : A family trip to Montreal : Seeing a temple initiated with rites and rituals : old montreal with susan : good times : may went out with a bang

June 2006

Engagement cards were chosen : Financial recovery from our trip to montreal : pink eye (ew) : work started to suck : photographer woes : prepping for our mid-year sales conference : wishing and hoping that I could travel to someplace absolutely diving : Rama graduated with ‘high’ honors : The realization that next year this time – I’d be married : oy vey.

July 2006

Atlanta : hot, sticky and murky : the Atlanta acquarium – breathtaking : My bestest celebrated her birthday : Indie celebrated hers : a photographer was chosen : I also realized I couldn’t eat out – ever, in order to afford her : Rakshaa gets a baby sister – Anicca : Another one to love and terrorize : life was good.

August 2006

Caribana : Ribsfest : Dee’s Birthday at some hick pub that turned out to be more fun than anticipated : Frantic planning : one smashing engagement party : Meeting Aunty Rehana: Dancing the night away : Frankie’s : A family luncheon with Myura and Priya : reconnecting and forming new bonds : Bombay Dreams : Dinner at Rich Tree with the mommies : busy, busy, busy.

September 2006 – Rewiring broken links

Myura and Priya : A weekend of craziness : Toronto Star interview at the picnic : water fights: blazing pink bangs : tears when it had to end : promises exchanged : Roger and Tanya’s engagement party (yup, they’re getting married two weeks before us) : Craig and Raina get engaged : Meeting J.C began around here : Michele’s birthday : Rashmi’s birthday : Michie and Chet’s engagement : A family split : felt like a limb being torn apart :: twas crazy indeed.

October 2006 – Reconnecting with birthrights and clarity

Job switch – accomplished : vacation days granted : Rama immortalizes her roots : Copyright Sri Lanka : Appapatti’s birthday dinner : reconnecting with my cousins : Daddy and daughter time : planning for a last min 3 week vacation : mikey’s overly generous birthday gift : packing my bags : engagement shoot (so much fun) : London – family, family and more family (oh yes, and shoes) : Sri Lanka - *sigh* my dream come true with just the right person : Land, found : Birthright – reinstated : hoppers – to die for : a lifestyle I miss inherently : India – busy : monsoon rains : humidity cushions memories : turning 29 : *double sigh* : dubai – glamorous : great architecture : meeting family for the first time : so much laughter : so much joy : so much introspective time : October was indeed clarity.

November 2006 – Introspection on the unknown error of our lives

Unfamiliarity : a new cube : a new floor : fighting the fear : a feeling of being ready : losing the immaturity of childhood: reliving every memory from oct 14 – nov 4th : missing the way my soles felt on birth soil : Daddy buys a new condo (2 blocks away from Mikey’s – yay for 2010) : Rashmi dresses up without being forced to : nina and tobes tie the knot : we get our engagement pics back : love love love all around : epiphany: I work to live not live to work : feeling more prepared : ready

December 2006

Mom and Dad turn 30 : Niraj and Risha’s reception : Christmas parties galore : My last Christmas morning waking up at home : fear sets in : the burner is on and my bum is getting warm : Christmas shopping : Rama and her 4 sizzling A’s : Mommy’s birthday : *sigh* I miss SL : The year in review : Work getting better : Life far more clear : frequent convo’s with suse : preparation.

*phew* sweet indeed. 2007 will be just as hectic, im certain.

In 2006 I'm thankful for...

2006-10-10T11:05:00.000-07:00

* the opportunity to see a new day, every day
* for sunshine that breaks through grey clouds
* for Rama's knowing eyes - they smile at me constantly
* for good health that my family enjoys
* for my grandma who albeit her 85 years, still has all her marbles intact
* for friends who understand that shit happens
* for comfy bermuda CK shorts - a surprise find
* for my doogie who gives more than takes
* for H2O
* for a gym membership that doesn't kick my ass for ducking out
* for the opportunity to try a new gig
* for a man who loves me minus the expectations
* for the opportunity to go on a trip of a lifetime with my fave boy - dad
* for friends strung together thanks to the powers of the world wide web
* for late nights and early mornings and the strength to keep on keepin on
* for chocolate in moderation
* for everything in moderation
* for fuscia pink peep toe sandals
* for sisters who love, fight and hug - with intensity
* for an extended family that doesn't act extended
* for dew drops and fallen leaves
* for the smell of curried chicken when its chilly outside
* for Pho (vietnamese noodle soup)
* for frugal bride - a site that helps me keep my sanity
* for early morning rides on public transit
* for the eternal belief that things will be okay
* for the clarity to realize that my life is on the cusp of great change
* for humility - something i'm still learning at doing
* for silver linings
* and fuscia crinolin
* for the sound of a fine tip nib caressing paper
* for good books and toe-curl inducing coffee
* for pit stops on this journey that let you smell the roses
* for the inherent knowledge that this too shall pass.
* for a new circle of friends at the St. Peter and Paul Parish
* for beliefs that get stronger with time, a personhood that holds on tight and the integrity that only comes with character.

but most of all,

this year, i'm thankful for knowing that i love and am loved in return.

Dufferin West #29

2006-10-05T07:11:00.000-07:00

Daybreak. That’s what greets you these days when you exit onto Dufferin at 7 am - leaving the cocoon of the underground tunnel. Sleep escapes. Flitters like the first flight on newly formed wings – perfectly suited for changing leaves.

*sigh*

Another day. Another season.

I get comfortable in my aisle seat, shooting a cursory glance around the bus. Half-asleep. The general descriptor for those traveling at the crack of dawn – so separate yet so the same. I lean back and sink into the sounds of Green Day barely noticing the kid sitting across from me. This morning, like most mornings, my eyes eagerly dissect the composition of another passenger – perfect strangers are a writers best friend. A side effect of documenting life – random people, random stories. Pupils capture her – bubble gum pink hoodie, runny mascara, sitting sideways, – eyes forlorn – a Botticelli waiting to be birthed.

“So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead on trial
For what it’s worth it was worth all the ….scratch.”

I wasn’t alone in my early morning ritual.

scratch, sigh, scribble, scribble. The sound of an intruder – the kid across from me?
His flighty fingers exact my attention - the sound of lead scarring refined bark builds itself into my sound system.

“It’s something unpredictable, (Scratch. Scratch. Scribble. )but in the end it’s right (Sigh). I hope you had the time of your life (scribble. Scratch. Shade).”

Scratch. Sigh.

I glance sideways- eyesdropping. Chancing getting caught for blatant staring, I notice his page. There she was. Immortalized in his book. Scratched, scribbled and brought to perfection. It was her – shrouded in melancholy. The way I would’ve dealt with this one – digested, described, and documented in the pages of my mind.

We had both unwittingly committed the same crime: stolen glances and captured her heart wrenching sorrow for a rainy day.

As I exited the bus, I realized – she’ll never know she’ll be remembered for simply boarding the 29 W bus.

Too much about me...again.

2006-09-26T05:28:00.000-07:00

1. WHICH FINGER IS YOUR FAVORITE? My index finger cuz well, she gets shit done.

2. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASSING CD ON THE SHELF? Vanilla Ice (yes, yes, I was a fan – even after all the media hoopla)

3. DO LOOKS MATTER? Only if you’ve got a crappy personality.

4. HOW DO YOU RELEASE ANGER? Ranting to my bestest and writing it all out.

5. WHERE IS YOUR SECOND HOME? My daddy’s arms, my sister’s smile

6. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD? Pens and books (talk about a geek in the making) oh and lest I forget, rama.

7. WHAT CLASS IN SCHOOL DO YOU THINK IS TOTALLY USELESS? Calculus & Accounting (the former because well it did nothing for me and the latter because talking about money in such quantifiable terms made me want to cry)

8. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL? Authenticity. Character. A good sense of self. Oh and someone who isn’t afraid to dream. And these days, LOYALTY.

9. WHAT ARE YOU NICKNAMES? Jana, Radhamma, Kunju, Mahale, Jans, Jana Banana, podi nona, Radhakka

10. HOW MANY WISDOM TEETH DO YOU HAVE? ½. Figures! I tend to save a little bit of everything.

11. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX? Face (I’m just a ‘great face’ kinda girl)

12. HOW ARE YOU TODAY? I'm feeling out of sorts – not sure why, just yet.

13. FAVORITE MONTH? July. Because well, that’s when my bestest met me.

14. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT? Not particularly – although the ring does cramp my style ;)

15. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE NIGHT STANDS? I’d like to think that I treat my relationships with the same excitement that a one night stand has – minus the après-deed guilt that is.

16. FAVORITE BOARD GAME? Scrabble!

17. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP? Again? Ahh, Again.

18. SAY ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU. These girls are fun and funny.

19. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PERFUMES? Body Sprays courtesy of Victoria and her secrets

20. NIKE, REEBOK OR ADIDAS? Puma thanks.

21. NAME TWO THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOUR PROFESSION. My new one? I’ll get to talk to lots of different people and hopefully have fun doing it.

22. FAV BRAND? BCBG, for the style & fit.

23. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Jillunu oru kadhal!

24. What is your favorite TV show? Project Runway!!! ANTM & other reality delights. King of Queens, SATC, Entourage, What I Like About You, The Sopranos, Seinfeld.

25. What did you have for breakfast? A cheese sandwich – in a sandwich maker – old school style.

26. What is your middle name? Radha.

27. What foods do you dislike? Bitter gourds.

28. What is your favorite crisp flavor? Salt and pepper. Boring but good.

29. What is your favorite CD at the moment? Whatever is on rotation on my iPod.

30. What kind of car do you drive? A civic. Yes, I am brown.

31. Favorite sandwich? Yummy tuna on 12 grain with avocado.

32. What characteristic do you despise? Dishonesty, infidelity, two-faced people.

33. Favorite item of clothing? Red riding hood rain jacket.

34. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation where would you
go? Anywhere and everywhere that airlines are allowed to travel.

35. What color is your bathroom? Pink & more pink

37. Where would you retire to? Sri Lanka.

38. Favorite time of the day? Day break

39. What was your most memorable birthday? 4 b/c that’s when my bestest joined me.

40. Where were you born? 6° 54' N 79° 52' E (Colombo, Sri Lanka)

41. What fabric detergent do you use? Sunlight

42. Are you a morning person or a night person? Morning – as in 5am.

43. Do you have any pets? Sparky, trixie and some random fish that dad keeps killing and then replacing

44. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with friends and
family? Not really - my life is unfortunately boring.

45. What did you want to be when you were little? A lawyer/Novelist.

46. What do you hope your friends remember about you when you're dead?
That I gave them the best of me.

47 What are you most afraid of? Being a failure.

48. Where do you plan to go on your honeymoon? Italy, Bali or Kenya.

49. How do you eat an Oreo? Twist clockwise (x2), lick and then rip into that chocolatey goodness

50. Favorite magazine? InStyle, Oprah and Shape

51. Favorite smell? The air before a good downpour, my amma’s hair

52. Least favorite smell? Eggplants in oil

53. How many rings before you answer the phone? 3 and then my voice mail picks it for me.

54. Future child's name? Zoe & Ziggy (yes, I’m serious) ;)

55. Glass is half empty or half full? Half empty.

56. Favorite movie? A tie between Scarface and the Sound of Music

57. What's under your bed? Drawers – hello! What’s under yours?

58. Favorite saying/quote: sorry about your luck kid, thanks for coming out, no freakin way!

59. What advice would you give a little kid? If you think you can, you can. If you think you can’t – you probably won’t.

60. Your favorite Potato chips? Ketchup

63. What were your different jobs? Copywriter, gofer, event coordinator, marketing exec, telemarketer, freelance journalist…aw man, I am a jack of all trades!

64. Number and Location of Piercings? 6 - ears

65. Ever been to Africa? Only in my imagination (Kenya and Botsuwana are on my to do list)

66. Ever been toilet papering? Yup (3 years straight – on the coldest day in Feb)

67. Been in a car accident? A couple. Usually, not my fault. Unfortunately, that’s not always a general consensus.

68. Favorite day of the week? Wednesday – because I invariably feel like I’ve already accomplished so much by getting to that cherished mid-week point.

69. Favorite Resturant? The Fish House; SuSur
70. Favorite flower? cream and yellow Araliya’s (aka frangipani’s)

71. Favorite fast food restaurant? Subway

72. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? The question is: Which store would I NOT choose to max out my credit card!

73. Bedtime: these days, I drop at like 10:00pm

74. Last person you went to dinner with? My bestest.

75. How many tattoos do you have? 1 (hopefully that number will go up in the next 30 days)

10 hours and 21 minutes

2006-09-21T05:41:00.000-07:00

i still feel broken.

Betrayed (according to Websters Online)
1 : to lead astray; especially : SEDUCE
2 : to deliver to an enemy by treachery
3 : to fail or desert especially in time of need

Completely so. And SHE is a trooper.
Still the best version of humanity. Still strong. Still unbreakable.
Still loved, more than she will ever know.

pray that i quell this unnatural thirst for my pound of flesh.

2 hours and 15 minutes.

2006-09-15T12:25:00.000-07:00

A lifetime for some small creatures.
But for me, it’s the countdown to when life will really begin.
Weekends = ambrosia (courtesy of sibil)

At some point, I’ve got to reset that clock.
Work should be more fun – shouldn’t it?
I suppose my solace comes from one simple seedlet of truth: At least, I get to exercise my brain cells on a daily basis.
And any growth (except the horizontal kind) is good in my books.

Have a solid weekend ya'll.

half-mast

2006-09-14T08:58:00.000-07:00

exactly 1 month ago, on aug 14th 2006- 61 cries curdled the clouds above a sencholi orphanage. sri lanka lost 61 children that day in an air raid - future prime ministers, doctors, writers, peaceworkers...*sigh*

my motherland is being torn apart again and today more so than other days, i wish there was some way i could turn back the hands of time.i feel like my hands are tied - i'm stuck - i'm far enough to feel physically removed yet emotionally close enough to be completely devastated by all of this.

and yesterday - some nimrod opened fire in a Montreal schoolyard injuring 20something and killing 1. *double sigh*

there's so much suckage in this post right now that i don't think i can wax poetic. sorry ya'll - this one is for remembrance more than anything else.

may the powers that be guide those that have been impacted by these human follies - and may the rest of us find enough clarity to realize that it doesn't have to be this way.

first day revelations...

2006-09-13T12:22:00.000-07:00

On Sept 11th, five years after North Americans experienced one of its largest disasters, I nervously waited at Islington Station for Mikey’s mom and Aunt, clutching my bright yellow hold-all. I was hoping it made me invincible or heck, invisible at the least (doubtful considering the sheer propensity of my screaming yellow leather). It was officially the first day of my RCIA course.

For those of you who haven’t brushed up on your Catholicism as of late – RCIA stands for Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults. This is where strayed herds flock to reconnect with their faith and repent their past wrongs by delving into and completing their sacraments. It also happens to be phase 1 for other livestock, (re: hindu, muslim, jewish cattle etc), to explore and experience the role Catholicism might play in their existence. The class is every Monday night from 7:30 -9:30 all the way until the end of May. Their dearest and deepest hope is that all their students complete the course and graduate as fully baptized Catholics. In my entrance interview, I made it crystal that if for a second I felt like I was about to be victimized by being baptized against my will – that I would run. And I wasn’t afraid to take down the lovely old course moderator on my way out. Mikes has trained me well with all his shoving strategies witnessed on the subway.

Background: I was doing this to make Aunty happy. That’s all. I was learning about Mikeys religion, his ideologies, the roots of his belief system so in the event (lord forbid) we have children – I’ve got the tools to point them in the right direction. I’m not resentful for making this decision – it’s actually one of the clearest indicators that I must truly adore this man. However, I made it abundantly clear that while I was Hindu by birth, I was a practicing Hindu by choice. Arey Bhaghavan, I’ve got an Om emblazoned on the left side of my chest to reflect this definition of self. It is a key piece in the jana puzzle – and adamantly, I choose to keep it so. Now think about it people - could there be a worse candidate for conversion? That’s like marrying someone who proudly showcases a permanent tattoo of his ex’s name on his forehead – yup, see what I mean. No good can come of a union like that.

The Experience: The actual class was a group of 10. People were there for all types of reasons from completing missed confirmations, implementing a unified religion in their family, finding themselves, reconnecting with God, looking for answers, exploring due to an impending marriage – you name it – the room reflected it. And I didn’t feel as lost, as compromised, as sacrificial a lamb as I assumed I would. Actually, I was quite amazed by the experience.

You see, growing up in a convent made sure that I understood the Catholic faith, growing up with a mother who is inherently fascinated by all things catholic meant I learnt to respect it. In our little pooja room, Jesus hangs out with his homie Ganesh and they sure as heck kick it with Buddha on the occasion. I’d always envied my friends (real and flog bound) who have these communal religious groups that they participate in – activities, socials, athletics, prayer meets, conventions – you name it, these church bound people were doing it. It was the sense of community that my religion lacked. Ours exists as a purely personal bond with God – one that has no sermons, no publicized teachings, no take aways and action items – it was spirituality and religion at its purest form – man cocooning himself hungrily in that circle of divinity. And this is what I enjoy about being Hindu – that I can create a personal bond to soothe the restlessness within – no rules, just open doors. And that’s how we coexist with religion in my home.

So anyways, it’s not like I had my hate on when I embarked on this journey. But, I was surprised. Here you had, 10 people – jaded, cynical, weather beaten and worn down by life experiences – willing to place their trust in a higher power. Think newborns as they grasp at their mother’s nipple – trusting and vulnerable. I discovered things about these people that showcased their depth – things that you wouldn’t share with complete strangers, things you’d think twice to share with acquaintances. There in that little room, around that rectangular table – something shifted. And I witnessed the seed of humanity –which we all share – unequivocally. It’s eye opening to be in a room with that much faith, even the course director was amazed at what a wonderful introductory session we had. I felt closer to these people as we exited the building – excited to reconvene the following Monday.

And on my way home that night, I came to a tiny little miniscule revelation. I liked it. Now now, lets not get ahead of ourselves – I won’t be banging down any doors to dunk my head in holy water and call myself Anne but, maybe I’ll find a reason to claim this deed for myself. Like I told Mikey’s mom the morning after my foray into the other side – while I started this journey of faith to appease her I might actually find enough reasons to continue my commitment for myself. And THAT my dear friends, is HUGE.

After all, God by any name and any label is still God. It’s the simple and true knowledge that there is a higher power that exists above us all – a power that guides us and has set about a pre-determined purpose to our existences. Having that faith absolves you of bearing the burdens of the entire world on your own human shoulders. Seeing that light lets you rise above the pettiness of your current context – it breeds humility and nurtures awe for that elusive bigger picture. It helps you realize that while life can be fragile – that there is no doubt a fleet of higher beings looking out for the wellness of the world – a sect that you belong to by merely being alive.Now, is that comforting? Absolutely.

That night I walked out awakened. To myself. My spirituality. My religion. His religion. And the knowledge that at our very core we really are all the same, despite our personal paths or journey.

And that is the beginning of a world filled with epiphanies and revelations…

First day revelations..

2006-09-13T11:26:00.000-07:00

Ring a ling a ling..

2006-09-11T11:22:00.000-07:00

it's housekeeping.

this morning i awoke to an echoing moan reverberating through the emptiness. Sound bounces off bereft walls making everything sound eerily louder. It must be the stillness that silently accompanies a lifeless void. The knowledge that nothing exists sends a shiver slithering down my spine. Words that once thrived, now shrivelled under the icy gaze of neglect (a cause for public flogging had I been a gardener and this blog my patch of green).

I realized, I was no better than a low down skeevin cheater - that was me. I got caught up in the glitz of the moment. I had forgotten my first love. Kicked my purpose to the curb in a flurry of activity. I had misplaced my reservoir of energy – that which let me introspectively script out the lyrics of the next song. To chart the next notes my life will sing (sans instrumentation of course).

And that's when it hit me.

I haven't been home. For those of you who don't remember me pre-flog - you met me part ways through. I was the verbiage girl - the one who felt far more comfortable hiding and burrowing behind constructions of the alphabet than cheesin’ before a camera. And yet, somewhere between the glare of flashes, I had fallen. Vanity got the best of me and idiom was left alone to wither by the wayside. Cruelly, I had forgotten to fill my most precious room with light.

So welcome home me.
May tomorrow and the days to come be filled with the sheer brilliance of visual sound.

Which baby are you?

2006-06-29T08:30:00.000-07:00

Thought i'd give this piece of virtual place some CPR - I'm trying folks - I promise to try and post more and more often.

here's a little something i received today - FYI: I'm an october baby!

---------------JANUARY BABY--------------------
Pretty/handsome. Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom
Shows
Emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt. Sensitive.
Down-to-Earth.
Stubborn.
----------FEBRUARY BABY --------------------
Abstract thoughts. Loves reality and abstract. Intelligent and Clever.
Changing personality. Attractive. Sexiest out of everyone.
Temperamental. Quiet, shy and humble. Honest and loyal. Determined To
Reach goals. Loves freedom. Rebellious when restricted.
Loves Aggressiveness. Too
Sensitive and easily hurt. Gets angry really easily but does not Show
It. Dislikes unnecessary things. Loves making friends but rarely Shows
It. Horny. Daring and stubborn. Ambitious. Realizing dreams and Hopes.
Sharp. Loves entertainment and leisure. Romantic on the inside not
Outside. Superstitious and ludicrous. Spendthrift. Tries to learn To Show
Emotions.
-----------------MARCH BABY --------------------

Attractive personality. Sexy. Affectionate Shy and reserved.
>Secretive.
> >Naturally honest, generous and sympathetic. Loves peace and
>serenity.
> >Sensitive to others. Great kisser. Easily angered. Trustworthy.
> >Appreciative and returns kindness. Hardly
>shows emotions. Tends to
> >bottle up feelings. Observant and assesses others.

------------------APRIL BABY -------------------
Suave and compromising. Funny and humorous. Stubborn. Very talkative.
Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed.
Loyal. Does work well with others. Very confident. Sensitive. Positive Attitude.
Thinking generous. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to Look
For information. Able to cheer everyone up and/or make them laugh.
Able to motivate oneself and others. Understanding. Fun to be around.
Outgoing. Hyper. Bubbly personality. Secretive. Boy/girl crazy.
Loves sports, music, leisure and traveling. Systematic. Hot but has brains.

-----------------MAY BABY -----------------
Stubborn and hard-hearted. Strong-willed and highly motivated.
Sharp thoughts. Easily angered. Attracts others and loves attention.
Deep feelings. Beautiful physically and mentally. Firm Standpoint.
Needs no motivation. Shy towards opposite sex. Easily consoled.

Systematic (left brain). Loves to dream. Strong clairvoyance. Understanding.
Sickness usually in the ear and neck. Good imagination. Good physical.

Weak breathing. Loves literature and the arts. Loves traveling. Dislike being at home.
Restless. Not having many children. Hardworking. High spirited.
------------JUNE BABY -------------
You've got the best personality and are an absolute pleasure to be
Around. You love to make new friends and be outgoing. You are a
great flirt and more than likely have a very attractive partner. A
Wicked hottie. It is also more than likely that you have a massive record collection.
You have a great choice in films, and may one day become a famous
Actor/actress yourself - heck, you've got the looks for it!!! IN the

----------------JULY BABY --------------
Fun to be with. Secretive. Difficult to fathom and to be understood.
Quiet unless excited or tensed. Takes pride in oneself. Has reputation.
Easily consoled. Honest. Concerned about people's feelings.
Tactful. Friendly. Approachable. Emotional temperamental and unpredictable. Moody and easily hurt. Witty and sparkly. Spazzy at times. Not revengeful.
Forgiving but never forgets. dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things.

Guides others physically and mentally. Sensitive and forms
Impressions carefully. Caring and loving. Treats others equally.
Strong sense of sympathy. Wary and sharp. Judges people through observations.
Hardworking. No difficulties in studying. Loves to be alone. Always broods about the past and the old friends. Waits for friends. Never looks for friends. Not aggressive unless provoked. Loves to be loved. Easily hurt but takes long to recover.
------------AUGUST BABY ---------------
Outgoing personality. Takes risks. Feeds on attention. No self-control.
Kind hearted. Self-confident. loud and boisterous. VERY revengeful.
Easy to get along with and talk to. Has an "everything's peachy" attitude. Likes talking and singing. Loves music. Daydreamer.
Easily distracted. Hates not being trusted. BIG imagination. Loves to be loved.

Hates studying. In need of "that someone". Longs for freedom.
Rebellious when withheld or restricted. Lives by "no pain no gain" caring. Always a suspect. Playful. Mysterious. "Charming" or "Beautiful" to everyone. Stubborn. Curious. Independent. Strong willed.
A fighter.

------------SEPTEMBER BABY ---------------
Active and dynamic. Decisive and haste but tends to regret.
Attractive and affectionate to oneself. Strong mentality. Loves attention.
Diplomatic. Consoling, friendly and solves people's problems. Brave and fearless.
Adventurous. Loving and caring. Suave and generous. Usually you have many friends. Enjoys to make love. Emotional. Stubborn. Hasty. Good memory. Moving, motivates oneself and others. Loves to travel and explore.
Sometimes sexy in a way that only their lover can understand.
--------------OCTOBER BABY -------------------
Loves to chat. Loves those who love them. Loves to take things at the center.

Inner and physical beauty. Lies but doesn't pretend. Gets angry often.

Treats friends importantly. Brave and fearless. Always making friends.

Easily hurt but recovers easily. Daydreamer. Opinionated.
Does not care to control emotions. Unpredictable. Extremely smart, but
Definitely the hottest AND sexiest of them all.
---------------NOVEMBER BABY --------------------
Trustworthy and loyal. Very passionate and dangerous. Wild at Times.
Knows how to have fun. Sexy and mysterious. Everyone is drawn towards
Your inner and outer beauty and independent personality. Playful, but secretive.

Very emotional and temperamental sometimes. Meets new people easily and
Very social in a group. Fearless and independent. Can hold their own. Stands
Out in a crowd. Essentially very smart. Usually, the greatest men are born in this month.

If you ever begin a relationship with someone from this month, hold on to them because their one of a kind.
---------------DECEMBER BABY ---------------
This straight-up means you're the most good-looking person possible...better than all of these other months! Loyal and generous. Patriotic. Competitive in everything. Active in games and interactions.
Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations. Fun to be with. Easy to talk to, though hard to understand. Thinks far with vision, yet complicated to know. Easily influenced by kindness.
Polite and soft-spoken. Having lots of ideas. Sensitive. Active mind.
Hesitating, tends to delay. Choosy and always wants the best.
Temperamental. Funny and humorous. Loves to joke. Good debating skills.
Has that someone always on his/her mind. Talkative. Daydreamer.
Friendly. Knows how to make friends. Abiding. Able to show character. one guy/girl kind of person.
Loveable. Easily hurt. Prone to getting colds. loves music. pretty/handsome.
Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows emotions.
Takes time to recover when hurt. Sensitive.

Blisters

2006-05-02T05:33:00.000-07:00

Speckle the emotive half of my cerebrum.

The first half of Saturday was emotionally harrowing. Returning to a place filled with many a traumatizing memory, I thought I might be adult enough to make peace with my past. Unfortunately for me, that just wasn’t about to happen. From the moment I walked in to the moment I left- I had to hold the tears back. Steeled against what I knew was a pretense, I watched the dramatics unfold in this superficially staged play. He involved us. Involved amma in her own amma’s remembrance and for that I was thankful. I watched him, them, carefully. Scrutinizing their expressions for a crack in the put on veneer. Nope. Nothing. I guess they never felt it. Remorse should come from within but their insides are bereft of such feeling – I suppose. No matter, us girls stuck close to our father. And when we moved over to surround amma in a collective barrier of love, the boys covered dad. It was endearing really to see the result of our growth. We will never be them. That much is certain. The blisters, on the other hand, are unfit for band aids and antibacterial soap. It reminds me of something my grandma used to say: Wash your mouth with dettol. In her ignorance, she believed that lips that spoke ill could be cured with a slosh of dettol. I wonder how much you’d need to douse yourself in that stuff. No matter, I cried my little heart out in the car with Mikey. I cried not fully out of pain but mostly out of pity. Had she been alive, she would’ve realized the caliber of her spawn. And in disgrace, she would’ve cried too. That triggered the cascade of hurt and I just let it out. And gratefully, he let it pass – nothing said, no put on empathy given, no ‘saving face’ type words spoken. That’s why he fits in with us. Because he accepts us, as we are – not as what he thinks we can all become in the future.

The baby shower was interesting. It was fun spending time with the mom to be and my gorgeous girlfriends. It’s interesting how I can call them that. They were never mine to begin with and yet, through time something changed. I look at them the same way I look at my own – with concern, with my protective instincts ready to go up if the need arises, with loyalty and a tremendous amount of love. And that spilled over into an evening of pure bliss. M’s mom and dad joined the gang for Bear’s birthday soiree and once again I was tickled pink at how everything flowed flawlessly. We went back to their house and Bear’s broke open her pressies to find enough new gear to transform the borderline tom boy into a chic summer ready fashionista. Everyone did good with picking out things for her – all in all, it was a memorable night indeed.

Sunday was filled with rekindling some old fires with Mikeys mom. Things have been slightly shaky between us thanks to january’s verbal bout of ick. Thankfully, when I saw her things felt newer, better, familiar. She was my friend again but only because the two weeks away made me realize that I like having her in my life. More as a friend than a relative. And when we did hang out, that’s what I remembered the most. The friend part. She brought back tones of goodies for me from dubai and cochin. And as she was showing me each thing, I saw how excited she got watching me become excited. It was nice to return to that familiar feeling – like jammies that you lost and accidently found. Comfortable.

The rest of Sunday was spent doing work. Literally. In front of my laptop writing for hours. C’est la vie! Hopefully everyone had two days of bliss.

--
Mission for the coming week: get rid of all tell tale signs of those barely there blisters.

Tamarind

2006-04-28T06:19:00.000-07:00

Laced fingers – practically indistinguishable genetically yet separate thanks to 44 years that distanced us.

Fair. Spotted. Translucent. Strange I thought. Mine didn’t look so shimmery in the light. She was special from the start. Little did I know that was also a sign of her battle where swords were drawn against an undefeatable opponent - time.

We’d sit for hours on the balcony, cordoned off from the rickety railway tracks watching life as it was lived on the outskirts of our secure bubble. That was the beauty of 75 International Buddhist Center Road. The only house on the road painstakingly build from ground up by hands fueled with tamil blood – hands that were widely considered honorary Sinhalese ones. I loved leaning back on her cushiony bosom and listening to her whisper the stories that birthed me. From nothing to everything, her hands would gently caress mine and I learned from life about the caliber of humanity. Enough to pen unbirthed novels, she’d say. Unbirthed, still.

Hours would pass, with us sitting in papaya seeds scattered like freckles on crisp clean marble. Freckles like tamarind seeds precariously placed on steaming coconut rice. It was her moment to shine. In me, she left her essence – imprinted in words. We shared so much, more than most would imagine – the 9 year old me and the 53 year old her – somehow of one spirit. Harlequins, dreams, Enid Blyton, poetry, sunset wishes, steaming puttu slick with butter and crystallized sugar, jam consumed in secrecy – she was the consummate best friend before I realized I had another. Through welded iron and glass windows, we would patiently wait for the sunset – all the while making wishes that she full well believed would come true.

“ke sera sera. Whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see, ke sera sera.”

The lilt of her song has followed me through countries, languages, moments of discovery, self-awareness, rebellion – they never left my side. In reflections, I see it as the invisible person in the room. A shadow that casts itself and shatters the common perception of me. It defines my roots and in turn the person I’ve become. In some ways, it is my soundtrack.

There’s no need to worry about me. The pain, it seems to have fallen away – it’s not as sharp or as tart as the first taste of tamarind on unfamiliar lips. It molded me, became a part of my rhetoric – so much so that I don’t realize she’s gone until I’m reminded by her two ungrateful spawns that its time for a ‘show’.

Many many years ago, I thought I saw that familiar spirit in my newborn cousin. But I was wrong because I quickly realized – you cannot embody the essence of someone if you were never touched by her life. Now, I pity them. They never ever knew the real her – sure she was their mom but never their friend. The her that had dreams of Japanese flowers (that’s how amma got them – osmosis perhaps), wanted to travel sans drama, wanted a parivar that was connected in truity not pretense….she wanted so much out of life and most of it – just never came true. And that, is something none of them will ever know about her. I guess that’s why we try so hard to be friends with our amma, that’s why we’re insanely close because we (her grandkids) saw how the lack of those things – erased her.

This Saturday – tomorrow – the tamil calendar marks her 20th death anniversary and in a big cold house in the middle of nowhere, her life will be remembered by those that never remembered her when there was life to still live. And for the first time in many many many years of proactively deciding to wrench myself and my parivar away from the pretense – a reunion of sorts is in the works. I’ll be there in person – doing what needs to be done as the first grandchild in the family. And as the first –I will smile while holding down the tartness of this experience somewhere deep within.

And behind every smile will be the silent reminder: we may have forgiven the actions of the past but never will we forget.

Ke sera, sera.

Aching

2006-04-27T14:16:00.000-07:00

It never dawned on me how much I missed that characteristic scent of her. Or the way her hands, lighter than the brown skin I was loosely wrapped in, would stroke my nightingale locks. Or how her once dark hair speckled with grey flecks of experience, shimmered when the light illuminated her in 90degree parameters. Of the way her cheeks rose and fell at the command of her plump lips oftentimes whispering encouraging lyrics to wounded ears. To the wide eyed and idealistic ones, she was beauty defined. Ageless and transcending reality. That’s what I miss the most today. The ability to take one look at her shadowy pools of darkness and know that this too shall pass. Ironically, she taught me just that.

--
why is she on my mind? because 20 years ago to this very day, i was in her arms blissfully unaware that in 11 days - she'd fall through the cracks of karma and leave me searching...forever.

2 Funerals and an Engagement.

2006-04-20T06:47:00.000-07:00

The beginning of this week slapped the euphoric joy that had somehow lodged itself into my existence after my friend R’s engagement-do at her local Guju mandir. For a second, I felt it. I actually felt tremors of something run down my spinal chord and it was good to know that I can still feel things (lately I’ve been forgetting how that happens). That moment of infinite joy as you see someone walk into the phase of life that they so desperately dreamt of for years and years and years – is heady to say the least. This girl was the die hard romantic even at the worst of times. She truly, madly, deeply believed in the power of love culminating in the union of two. So after a few fumbles and falls, it was nice to know that the universe does conspire to make some things happen – as they should. Bliss.

Earlier this week, I fell smack dab into two funerals. My old age must be gaining on me because I’m starting to find that viewings take a toll on my psychological health. I get there, I stare into tear filled eyes and I subconsciously place myself in their shoes. Size 8 or not, they fit. And once again, I feel something. This time it hits my core. Imagine a linebacker vs. a rag doll. Yup. That’s what it was. That’s how it is. I hear their wails and my unmoving lips wail like ventriloquists do. Gutteral. Hurt. Displaced. I peer into the open casket and I see familiar faces of grandparents passed on, an appapatti surviving the ride, a dad that doesn’t care enough to control his diabetes – and it begins. The eyes fill up and overflow because they can’t contain the hurt the heart feels. It doesn’t seem to matter who it is – I put myself there and I cry for them as much as I cry for myself.

Leaving sucks. Being left behind sucks even more.

On my way out of the funeral hall, I ran into a family friend. A strong Sri Lankan woman who recently lost her father. Sure, they weren’t on the best of terms. Sure, she didn’t even live with him. Neither did her mom. Yet, when I saw her. I felt her grief. Or maybe it was my guilt that came rushing through. Guilt for not taking the time to even make an appearance at the viewing. Guilt for not reaching out when she could’ve used the extra shoulder. And it hit me again. Maybe it was just guilt I felt thanks to the selfish me.

The ride home that night was filled with us four women freaking out. And boy oh boy, what a sight that was! Nobody exaggerates things more than we do. As we drove away from the funeral parlor, you could hear are unspoken thoughts – thank god, it wasn’t one of ours. Thank god, that our close knit family is still just that – close knit and alive. I do this every time I hear about inner city violence, or the sound of squealing tires followed by sirens, or my eyes glance through the obituaries. I think it – tinged with guilt, it smarts on its way up – but I continue doing it. I broke down a conversation that I had with my cousin at the viewing where she reaffirmed that very same sentiment in hushed whispers.

Thank god, it wasn’t one of ours.

I wonder what the karmic retribution for that selfish thought is. Whatever it maybe, bring it on world because I’m certain that I will think it again.

Yesterday...

2006-04-06T09:32:00.000-07:00

Her confidence shriveled to fit the standard manila 9.5" x 4.125" coffin, cushioned by the canned message that a communications nerd penned, unfeelingly.

Rejected - Again.

It didn’t seem to matter that she had mentally prepared herself for this – her worst case scenario. It still stung like a wild hornet feasting on her DNA.

Lighter, that’s what it feels like when you’re stripped of the goals that drive you forward.

One down, two more to go. Until the calm returns, she’ll hide behind pleasant smiles and sugar coated niceness – all the while nursing the limping dream within.

At times like this, logic escapes the soul. And this state of slow submersion, feels eternal. Caught somewhere between the folds of that letter, was her rising nightmare.

She will survive. Because, rejection eventually fuels dreams that are real.

I just hope that she knows this for herself.

True or False - Answered truthfully.

2006-04-06T06:27:00.000-07:00

Another goodie courtesy of Susan.

--::--

I am a cuddler – false – except when I’m pmsing and need some positive “touch”

I am a morning person – True – bright and early (as in 5:00am on a sat morning)

I am a perfectionist – True – If I think I can’t get it right, I don’t do it at all (a curse)

I am an only child - False – and thank heavens for that. Only children are weird.

I am Catholic – False – but I’m apparently gonna marry one – can I get into the club?

I am currently in my pajamas –False – although I wish I were – that might make for some great work comedy

I am single: True – born alone. Will die alone. In the meantime, I hang out with many.

I am currently suffering from a broken heart – True – I’ve disappointed my inner child by going corporate canada-esque

I am okay at styling other people's hair – True – as long as you don’t have creepy crawlies in there

I am left handed – False – although most people assume I am b/c I wear my watch on my right wrist

I am addicted to my myspace – False – if by that you mean my room, then yes. Yes I am.

I am online 24/7, even as an away message – False – I wish I had the patience to be that connected.

I am very shy around the opposite gender at first – True – I’m shy and my defense mechanism is extroversion. Strange eh?

I bite my nails – False – I used to bite my toe nails ONLY thank you very much.

I can be paranoid at times – True – at times? Nuh uh, its second nature on most days.

I currently regret something that I have said or done- True – I’m always regretting things and then forgetting why I was regretting them

When I get mad I curse frequently – True – I make sailors blush and sea monsters run for cover

I get mad frequently – True – anger management classes are required. (a side effect of a Type A personality, don’t you know)

I don't like anyone – False – Oftentimes, I know if I’m feeling someone in the first few seconds that I meet them. Although, my judgment has sometimes led me astray.

I enjoy country music- True – but only because Im not a big music-head so, I enjoy anything with a good beat depending on the mood I’m in.

I enjoy jazz music – True – see above.

I enjoy smoothies –True – slurpable nutrients: yummers. If only all fruit came in this format.

I enjoy talking on the phone – True – I used to be a phone monger but, in my old age I’ve discovered that I prefer communicating through email.

I have/had a hard time paying attention at school –False – I can focus like it’s nobody’s business.

I have a lot to learn – True – Regardless of how far I come, I still feel like a fetus in comparison to soooo many people I idolize.

I have a pet – True – Her name is Rama. I pet her often and even walk her on most days.

I have a secret that I am ashamed to reveal – True – One? Don’t you mean many? That’s the joy of being alive in my books – learning by falling flat on my face and then trying hard to deflate attention by hiding it all.

I have a tendency to fall for the "wrong" person – True – I used to. And maybe I still do. It’s just that this time the “wrong” person (as in type/personality) turned out to be the perfect one for me.

I have all my grandparents – False – I wish I did. One left.

I have at least one sibling – True – Thank heavens for that.

I have been told that I am smart – True – All my life. Although quite frankly, I’d much rather be the pretty one.

I have broken a bone – False – If you know me, you’d know I’m waaay too scared of anything physical.

I have Caller I.D. on my phone – True – who doesn’t?

I have changed a diaper – True – more times than I care to remember.

I have changed a lot over the past year – True – Change is the only constant in my existence these days.

I have done something illegal –True – I plead the fifth on details – chalk it up to secrets I’m too ashamed to share.

I have friends who have never seen my natural hair color – False

I have had major/minor surgery – True

I have killed another person – True – If emotional death counts then yes – Karma will certainly kick my ass for those disasters

I have had my hair cut/colored within the last week – True – I got my fringe trimmed.

I have had the cops called on me – True – OMG, I’m starting to realize that I’m a bad ass.

I have kissed someone I knew I shouldn't – True – More times than I care to remember.

Slurp

2006-03-31T14:38:00.000-08:00

Lick. Lick. Lick. Stop.

A mouth-watering medley of random moments captured in its purest form. One plus one equals one, especially when both co-dependent entities share one navel attaching human twine. Made from the same dirt like renditions of Van Gogh that can merely be imitated but never really duplicated. I have that. Sheltered and protected like a secret stash of soul food, nestled away in hard to locate regions of my life. And when I have days where the joy outweighs the pain or vice versa – I burrow deep to unearth my hidden treasure.

Today, I had a Friday – kinda epiphany glazed with sundrops thanks to Mama Spring and her dutiful herons. It arrived virtually. For the first time ever – as in EVER EVER – I felt like Mikes was my own. Not the same as what I described above (nothing can touch that relation of the soul) but similar enough to shrink the distance that separates two strangers. What did he do to deserve this promotion? Abso-freakin-lutely nothing. It was fleeting. A mere thoughtlet that brought a smile to my lips and touched the corners of my eyes. And in that moment I felt the onion-layer effect.

This relationship, our relationship, has been just that. A gradual process of revealing layers – physical, emotional and psychological. Slowly we undress in front of each other under bright life-permeating lights– playing a celestial game of de-masking the soul. And oftentimes, I find this grating a process (read: nails on a chalk board) while I’m sure he barely notices the intricacies of this dance. Peeling back all the fronts that we cultivate through life is hard work, far more back breaking than casual relationships with friends who come with unmentionable benefits. Life long loving is tough. Yet today, it felt effortless. I’ve nursed this burgeoning excitement all day. Not because we plan to cause a ruckus tonight, or heck even get into anything super-exciting but, simply because I’ll get to see him. Hanging out with him far exceeds a “Pretty Woman”esque romantic date with any other stranger – and I adore that. Today, I feel like he’s one step closer to being my family. Not quite there yet but, heck he’s certainly not stuck at the bottom of the ladder anymore.

It’s quite fascinating how a person can go from merely mattering to having a profound effect on your life in nanoseconds. Something happens that changes the energy that surrounds your relationship and suddenly – you are caught in a whirlwind. Déjà vu – our first date was reminiscent of this. At the beginning of the evening almost three years ago, I couldn’t wait for our date to end. And somewhere between watching an independent film, indulging in chocolate toast and bubble tea and a chilly walk through a bustling uptown street – something changed. He planted his lips firmly on mine and breathed life to a brand new rishtha (relationship) that has stood the test of time and temperament.

Why this sudden introspection regarding the one thing I don’t worry about too often? Perhaps its our approaching anniversary (april 11) or perhaps its the ring finger on my left hand finally saying: I get it. I do. I do. I do.

Knowledge is power people. Especially when you begin to know yourself. It definitely lives on the list of yummiest moments in my life, thus far.

Have a good weekend.

Hide & Seek

2006-03-30T14:28:00.000-08:00

that's the game I tend to play with my heart. Often they start in the darkness of night, when nobody is watching and no one is accountable for getting lost or getting found. I find that I lose myself in the day. Between tasks, thoughts, trials, tribulations, trails that never end and I toil like the day never began.

On most days, i wish that darkness would stay a little longer. To fortify my childlike soul, constantly fighting against the flow. Reality is merely that - real. Momentary. Fleeting. Unyielding. Unsatisfactory. Permanent. Nothing you do can be undone because it disappears as waves do, silently - marklessly. If you blink too long, you might end up missing all of it.

And that's where I am, today. An eternal blink where my pupils hide behind fearful reefs - unceremoniously avoiding the piercing gaze of life. Raw. Why must anything powerful come with change? What happened to unicorns with pale shimmery wings and the magic forest with the promise of hide and never be found?

It's there. Nestled somewhere inbetween who I am and what I've learnt through the course of this life - it's there. In hiding. Incognito. Still waiting to be found.

3...2...1.

Damn, its still coming up short.

One instance

2006-03-25T11:59:00.000-08:00

when stealing rocks.

I found this on malvado's page (a fellow flogger) as his descriptive blurb. And I couldn't help but think that this is what ALL OF US should be aiming for. F*ck being safe. F*ck playing it conservative. If all we have is one chance, lets turn this muthaf*#kin' place out!

Hopefully, he won't mind me posting his words of wisdom!

---:::---

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out , and loudly proclaiming...WOW, that was one hell of a ride!"

Miniscule

2006-03-24T06:28:00.000-08:00

On some days, that’s how this life feels. Small, manageable, easy to clean up and put away. Unfortunately, I haven’t had one of those days in quite a while. Lately, things have been changing all around me and being the water sign that I am, I tend to ebb, flow and change directions simply by being alive.

Breathe in. Breathe out. A mantra or a forced reminder?

On a good day, it feels like someone’s sitting on the remote that controls my life and their ass cheek hit the fast forward button on my existence. Super sonic speeds –enough to make anyone feel like they’re caught in a whirlwind. And I’m starting to realize that I’m only human. (kinda late but hey, better late than never right)

Five things that have changed in 2006:

1.the way I see myself in terms of my career aspirations – juggling balls is the only metaphor that seems to work.

2.the way I see my family – ever since my left hand has been honoured with a ring – I feel even more attached to my family (if that’s possible). I look longingly at each of them, usually at inopportune moments (thereby making myself the butt of their jokes) in fear of leaving and losing. this worries me to no end. everything in life has only proven that marriage complicates matters of the heart. i refuse to let that happen with me. i refuse to be torn from the dirt that i'm made of. and that is my single-minded goal.

3.the way I see mikey – before he was just a boy that I liked hanging out with – now, he’s a boy that I’m willing to live with – and that’s huge. Not at all the romantic fairytale – I see work, work and more back breaking work. In a good way. Loving my family is easy. Loving them every day, unconditionally is damn hard. And now, i'm learning to do that with Mikey. I'm learning to love him unconditionally (not in a hallmark-speak way but in a if you were crippled, i'd still love you way) - sounds harsh? well, atleast its real.

4.the way I interact with “love” – it feels more real now. Surprisingly so. Especially because I always assumed that nothing would change. Now, I look at my growing parivar and I shake my head in apprehension. How am I going to make this work? I don’t know if I have enough love to give to all these extra new people – I can take anything that the people in my family throw at me and now, I’ve gotta add more than a generous helping of resilience to these new loves – in the name of growing pains that is. all i have to travel on is hope and a prayer.

5.my definition of self – a daughter, a sister, a writer, a friend, a girlfriend, a protector, a lifelong learner, a scared almost 30year old on the verge of yet another direction change – my river keeps flowing despite the course it takes. And I keep looking back to make sure that the ones that I love are still there, anchoring me – I’m co-dependent on my family when it comes to defining myself. Pathetic? Maybe so. But, it’s the only way I know how to play this game.

Phew. Exhale.

Thankfully it’s another Friday. The beginning of a weekend sans wedding planning. A weekend where I hope to nurse myself better, kick this flu bug and get in some quality family time. I need it.

Heck, when have I ever not needed more family time???!

Chapters 1-6 of Me

2006-03-22T18:58:00.000-08:00

Inspired by the verbally ambidextrous suse - here's the start of my novella. Sadly, its far less interesting than i hoped it would be.
--::--
Enjoy!
--:::--
Chapter 1:

Initials: JRR
Middle name: Radha (Blame my grandpa and his Sri Lankan roots)
Date of birth: 10/24
Current location: the Tdot
Height: 5'6 (in my dreams) – 5’3 in reality
Hair length: about there…
Eye color: dark chocolate brown
Piercings: 3 on right ear, 4 on left.

Chapter 2:

Do you live with your parents: yes,yes and yes. Thank heavens I do!

Do you get along with your parents: all the time – so much so that it sickens the general public

Are your parents married/separated/divorced: married – and still in love.

Any siblings: 1 soulmate, 1 good friend, 1 four legged munchkin’ & a divaesque kitty

What pets do you have: a zoo full according to my amma. ( rashmi is a monkey and sparky is a dog and trixie is a cat..and well dad, trust me – you don’t want to know what appa can be )

Chapter 3: Favorites

Ice cream flavor: Orange Sorbet
Season: Summer for sandals, Spring for introspection
Clothing brand: Prada (shhh…I’m still sleeping)
Shampoo/conditioner: Dove (I’ m a sucka for great commercials)
Color: Orange

Chapter 4: Do You ...

Sing in the shower: sometimes – I’ve been known to belt out some made up melodies.

Call people back: if I feel like it but, usually I tend to forget – unless your name is Rama or Appa

Believe in love: the type you have to work at? – hell yes. The @first sight type – not so much.

Sleep on a certain side of the bed: I’ve got a cramped single – the only side it has is the middle.

Wear glasses or contacts: tortoise shell glasses when I’m on the computer.
Have any weird habits: can’t bear to paint my fingernails, I flog and blog – weird enough?

Chapter 5: Have You Ever...

Gone skinny dipping: The last time was with a bunch of people who I happily call my friends now.

Worn braces: never – and you can tell that I was a thumb sucker!

Broken a bone: not that I remember

Had stitches: Yes – a rough episode with some sugar cane – my belly gets me into trouble more often that I’d like to think.

Shoplifted: Once @Kmart (on a dare) – Amma made me return it - They told me never to come back then, they went out of business.

Punched someone in the face: Nope – never had the balls to.

Taken painkillers: You call them painkillers, I call them “get through the day”ers (im joking)

Gone scuba diving: no – I will one day though.

Been stung by a bee: nope.but i got bee-stung lips thanks to my uber pricey lipgloss

Thrown up in a restaurant: yup – 19th birthday was probably the most memorable of the bunch.

Been to overnight camp: yup – couldn’t wait to get out and get back to civilization

Written a letter to Santa Clause: yup – like last christmas - how'd you think i got my pressies?

Had detention: unfortunately yes.

Been called a SLUT/WHORE: nods head- needless to say they never repeated themselves.

Chaper 6: Who/What was the last..

Person to IM you: a friend from work on my sick day off
Person to call you: Rama – yes, I know I live with her
Person you hugged: Rama – yes, I know we are big geeks.
Thing you touched: a pen to jot a message down
Thing you ate: Cornish Hen soup – it’s our traditional “feel better” meal
Drank: water and tea
Thing you said: time to go beddy bye and it’s only 9:00pm

Night!

To leave or not to leave...that was apparently never the question.

2006-03-22T14:08:00.000-08:00

Like time-kissed photographs enveloped in sepia tones, there are memories drenched in yesterdays that lurk in the crevices of my cerebrum. A fellow flogger recently experienced the unfortunate passing of a dear friend, someone who made the choice to seek a tomorrow that transcends our reality. And as if on cue, my mind flipped back the calendar to the day that we got home and realized that one of our family friends lost her son to the evil that lurked in the ravine by our condo in the sheltered ‘burbs. Ironic wouldn’t you say? In the quiet of a well pruned area hung a boy – an artists rendition of celestial irony.

It was such an emotionally horrendous experience for everyone involved. I mean, us girls, exchanged knowing looks – fully aware of the darkness that used to scare the living daylights out of us on our walks to school.

Beautiful yet alarmingly quiet. That’s where everything horrendous went down. From dirty ole perv’s who dropped their pants at the mere sighting of a barely grown child, to angry bums who screamed their ailments at the top of their voices sucking back bottles of rye – this ravine was the breeding ground for the unwanted, the irrelevant and the creepy that lived amongst the seemingly well to do crowds. And that’s where it happened.

This kid, barely 18, strategically planned his exit. The cops found internet files detailing painless ways to kiss the angel of death – he must have sifted through his options before he decided to settle on an innocent birch. That night, its branches were bubblewrapped in infamy. Countless search parties, highlighter yellow caution tape, news crews – they all took their turn tumbling through the often “oohd and ahhhd” ravine. Nature, on man’s urging, had taken a life by simply being available. See idle branches, much like idle minds, is no mans friend.

I cried for what felt like days, although I’m certain that it was mere minutes elongated by the hands of a generous clock. Survived by hard working parents who didn’t understand and two sisters who couldn’t understand, he wrote his exit line and pulled the curtains shut – largely unconcerned about his fellow cast members or the audience he left behind.

And cue to the Applause.

You see, that’s always made me wonder one thing: How do you leave, forever, without looking back at the ones that complete you? Forever – understand that this means – today, tomorrow and for the rest of your existence.

The thought of my loved ones interacting with Yama, dancing to his exit tune, kissing the blue tinged lips of the god that rides a bull – heck, it scares the living daylights out of me. Yes I know I’ll survive. Yes I know I’ll be strong. I’ll have friends to hold my hand, walk me through, lend me a shoulder – but, when dusk hits and I’m left alone with haunting thoughts…will any of that matter? Can anything ease the pain of knowing that they won’t be there when you wake up the next morning.

With my own brand of bravado, I always tell myself that things will be fine. Regardless of whose alive and whose not – my life will go on because my dad has raised a daughter who can stand on her own two feet. That I will hold my head up high, march to the tune of my own drummer and survive. And yet, even before the words leave my lips and touches the air that transports it, tears of lead begin to form.

I used to live in fear once that I’d lose someone in my life that meant more to me that I cared to admit. I used to check up on her by standing in her doorway and waiting to see her chest heave signaling her stay in my world. I used to hide sharp objects, diligently watch my words, pray on a daily basis that she wouldn’t be so selfish as to tear my parivar apart and then…something happened. I woke up one morning and realized that I had stopped caring. Not about her – never about her. But, I’d stopped caring about the threat of impending death. How does that cliché go…a dog that barks..never…yeah, you get it. I didn’t care anymore because a part of me expected it and a part of me believed it would never happen.

A throbbing numbness. I was so numb with the constant threat of departure, that I had steeled myself against feeling anything. And that became the fear that chased me – I wonder if matadors feel this way when the bull flips the script, takes control and chases them up and down the stadium….

My seemingly numb emotional state has come to terms with the fact that I can’t beg people to stay. Heck, on a good day, I can’t even get the people I love to understand my point of view and move in the same direction. Things like this scare me but, what scares me more is my ability to move past it and forget the hurt.

I had. It was erased. Completely so. Until my flogfriend shared her experience and unleased tsunami-like waves that reeked of this other weather beaten story. I’ve always had this great propensity for getting over things on the outside– quickly, easily, efficiently.

Sometimes, there’s nothing we can do to alter the outcome of an equation. Sometimes, regardless of how much we pray, how much we hope, wish, and stand on our heads – things will play out the way they were meant to be. And that my dear friends, is scary in and of itself.

A pointless post. Yet, I feel wonderfully relieved and unburdened.

Now if only everything in life came with an easy aside.

Courtesy of Starf#&ks…

2006-02-28T04:47:00.000-08:00

This little tidbit graced my venti 1% vanilla latte making it as profound a vehicle as Deepak Chopra or his pen pals.

The Way I see it #63
Our lives are inspired by the dreams we have from the earliest stages of our youth. When you combine passion and hard work, then success is always possible. While no road is ever straight, dedication and persistence will always lead you to your dreams.

Come On! – On my cup? I realize that advertising is powerful – I mean, you don’t have to preach to the converted. But on a cup? At just after 6am? I’m all for a little bit of inspiring self-talk now and again, heck – I even indulge in it myself (in front of a mirror in the comfort of my blazing orange room) – but corporate inspiration? Can Starbucks get more contrived than this?

No doubt, this is a piece of well-crafted marketing jargon to once again identify with the intellectually-rebellious, spiritually-grounded target group, that most of us happen to find ourselves in. But really, what’s next? Motivational messages on our TTC transfers?

Maybe I’m just having an easily irritable day – if that’s the case – pray for me folks – because today promises to be chaotic.

--

In other news – I also found out that while fear of failure is a popular hurdle to jump – fear of accomplishment is quickly catching up. So guess what – I’m the oxymoron that’s stuck in this catch 22 – yay me.

To love..

2006-02-20T18:49:00.000-08:00

is to leave oneself open to pain.

Romantic or otherwise, the conclusion is crystal: every love ends in tragedy, because one of the lovers must die. That's Hemingway paraphrased.
Smart man. Knew much. Spoke less. And somehow, captured life beautifully.

--::--
tonight, it plagues me because I've got mortality on my mind and lead for feet. It keeps playing the same ole broken record - over and over and over again.
--::--

fear.what else is new?
fades to black.

Cringe-worthy

2006-02-19T05:38:00.000-08:00

When the walls that surround your world, start to close in - that's when you realize the importance of the intangible that guides reason. Today, i hope that I find this elusive bird that brings peace on its wings.

Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.
--Rabindranath Tagore

I know...I wish...I hope

2006-02-18T05:39:00.000-08:00

inspired by lil niki whose got a surprisingly big heart!
--::--

I Live: in Toronto, Canada (land of the losing jays & phallic monuments)

I Work: in Corporate Communications – my creativity hasn’t quite left the building yet.

I Talk: non-freakin-stop

I Wish: for pure bliss to envelope the ones I adore.

I Enjoy: being loved.

I Look: like a little teapot – short and stout – (scary? Rama actually sang it – that’s scarier)

I'm sure: that there’s someone up there rooting for all of us.

I Find: that I’m still nursing the remnants of my vain and superficial past.

I Smell: like I’m Live, and charged. (bad puns aside: usually I smell like coco butter)

I Listen: to my dad secretly. I’d hate for him to think that I ‘follow’ his words ;)

I Hide: my insecurities quite well. Unfortunately, that’s all I seem to be able to hide.

I Pray: more than I thought I ever would in my youth.

I Walk: because nobody will carry me. I remember a time when walking was fun.

I Write: almost as much as I breathe.

I See: with my heart more than my eyes.

I Sing: off key – any and every chance I get.

I Laugh: and sometimes, even snort.

I love: my books and shoes. Oh and sometimes, my friends and family ;)

I can: make myself believe ANYTHING. (scary innit?)

I Watch: what I say to certain people – because the truth is hard to handle.

I Learn: on a daily basis just by being alive.

I Dream: more than one person should – and morosely, my dreams evolve.

I Want: to be the Brain. Any takers for Pinky?

I Cry: too freakin much these days – I think im menopausing or something.

I Burn: myself by loving too much, too fast, too often.

I Read: and worship the written word – in any avatar.

I Sometimes: wish I could change everything for the one’s I love. Most times, I just wish I had a Cadbury cream egg.

I Touch: because my fingers are rebellious as my cerebrum is.

I Hurt: when the one’s I love don’t love me as much.

I Fear: failure. Without a doubt.

I Hope: that my sisters experience the bliss that I chase so single-mindedly.

I Break: people’s hearts unwittingly. I used to always get accused of that in my youth.

I Eat: more than I should but less than I can.

I Quit: where should I start? Guitar, piano, the gym, smoking, optimism – all of em – gone.

I Bathe: Who has the time for that? I shower like a rockstar.

I Drink: copious amounts of caffiene and water.

I Save: words in the crevices of my mind. And sometimes, it’s the evil things that people say.

I Hug: the ones that need it the most. I used to be touch-phobic when I was little. Now, it’s quite the opposite.

I Meditate: more than I did in previous lifetimes.

I Play: this game of hide and seek with my dreams.

I Miss: my grandma and the innocence of walking barefeet alongside rail tracks in Colombo.

I Hold: the ones I love close to my heart.

I Forgive: but I never forget.

I Drive: an Antelope. No, no – I wish I drove an Antelope. I drive a civic – see how sometimes the truth - sucks?!

I Have: nothing that I will take with me when I leave.

I Don't: understand people without manners or dreams.

I Made: my sisters do everything for me when they were young. Now, they’ve flipped the script on my behind!

I Kiss: the ground at the temple and the cheeks of many in my life.

I Believe: that some of us are blessed enough to radiate nothing but goodness - I'm blessed to know many such people.

I Owe: so much to everyone for so many things. I’ve stopped counting and hopefully, they have too.

I Feel: like a one-winged bird sometimes but then I look across the room and realize that I come from a strong flock of air-defenders.

I Know: that this life is too short for regrets and too long to give up the things that bring you joy.

--
And my own additions:

I chew: each mouthful, carefully.
I will: make a difference in someone's life by writing something profound- one day.
I am: the answer to many of the questions that plague me.
I remember: the kindness of strangers and the thoughtfulness of those I love.
I'm grateful: for being alive.

--
that's all folks.
have a safe and happy weekend.

I heart....

2006-02-14T05:08:00.000-08:00

(keeping with the spirit of St.Valentine...here is my Feb 14 06 list of things/people I'm feelin' in no particular order...)

early morning bus rides....vivid orange gerberas...raspberry chocolate coffee....Rama's ceaseless 4am alarm....Rama...my comforter....elepoo....the moment fire touches thiri in our pooja room...Amma at 5am...sunshine...the smell of sunlight on my clothes...Appa when he's grumpy...Rashmi when she's not...seedless cucumbers...big ole sunkist oranges...Tridents Vanilla-Mint Splash...laying on mikeys arm...the smell of sweat on sparks...Rammy's crazy laugh...Fallen by Sarah...old friends...Second Cup dates...a long romantic date with java and a book...orange bedrooms and work spaces...Trixie chasing her own tail...friends who are more like family...phone calls that connect the divide...blogs that motivate...flogs that reaffirm life's goodness...friends i've never met...friends i need to meet more often...cradling pudgy rakshaa...wedding emails from Mich...orange waterbottles...blistex...black pens…yogurt...to do lists (though they never get done)...mikey (annoyed or otherwise)...Verdana in a 10pt size...the smell of musky books...SJP in SATC...girlfriends to giggle with...laughter ( i need more of this)...coming up with excuses for not working out...all night dates...long conversations...pomegranates…stories (bed time or not)...presents...David sedaris...taking pictures of everything...Winners...waking up every morning...milk hoppers...motivational e-mails...being so blessed...brown people…things that sparkle...my iPod...coming home...me.

The alphabet

2006-02-05T15:24:00.000-08:00

the way it should've been written.

--::--

A is for Age:
25…but I’ve celebrated that anniversary three times ;)

B is for Booze of choice:
Vodka preferably mixed with some cranberryesque

C is for Career:
Well C should be for change because that’s pretty much defined my career so far – the only constant is the written word.

D is for your Dog's name:
Sparky..plung…pulee…my hyperactive lil crap-factory

E is for Essential items you use every day:
cell phone, blistex, iPod

F is for Favorite song at the moment:
Collide – Howie Day (don’t laugh..i could be mushy)

G is for favorite Games:
Scrabble

H is for Hometown:
Toronto, Ontario

I is for Instruments you play:
Guitar at 7 – got one, then quit. Piano in my teens – then quit. Flute for a semester.

J is for Jam or Jelly you like:
Raspberry chunks…yummmers…no sugar added of course.

K is for Kids:
Maybe later – thanks.

L is for Last kiss:
Mikey (urgh, the bane of being in a long term relationship is never having multiple last kisses)

M is for Most admired trait:
flirtatiousness….huh! and that was from Rama – so…guess I don’t really have a most admired trait (note to self: get one pronto)

Most admired by others:
my intelligence (hehe) – okay fine, I guess they’d think I’m quite gregarious.

N is for Name of your crush:
Do girls count ?
D’Angelo….but, only in that one video – ladies, you know the one I’m referring to.

O is for Overnight hospital stays:
a couple times…but I just stuck around for the really bad coffee 

P is for phobias:
failure, failure and more failure – not just a phobia but a paralyzing fear. That and amounting to nothing.

Q is for quotes you like:
If you think you can – you can. If you think you can’t – you probably won’t.

R is for biggest Regret:
I should’ve slept more in my youth – especially during university – I’m starting to feel the lack of sleep catching up.

S is for Sweets of your choice:
Umm..where should I begin and how many days do you have? Unfortunately, I’ve been cut off.

T is for Time you wake up:
5:00am

U is for Underwear:
all the time, thank you.

V is for Vegetable you love:
corn on the cob, broccoli, eggplant, okra, spinach & daal

W is for Worst Habit:
expecting the worst, procrastinating

X is for X-rays you've had:
atleast 4 or 5

Y is for Yummy food you make:
Good butter chicken, a mean lasagna and the best: a really yummy cup of joe!

Z is for Zodiac sign:
Cusp: libra/scorpio. If you ask a tamil astrologer – I’m a pisces. GO figure
--::--

strangely, this exercise was a moment of introspection.
woah. i think i need a hug.

Blessed Fours

2006-01-29T06:42:00.001-08:00

courtesy of sibil.

And Niki - who tagged me. When I wasn't looking - my apologies honey - next time I will practice some much needed mindfulness.

--::--
Four jobs I have had: (oy vey, where do i start)

1. Chuck E Cheese: Hostess which was fun and games until I was forced into Chuck's slimy suit on one ill fated day - i learnt this: kids can be mean spirited brats.

2. RA during my university days for a crotchety old music professor who while a musical genius couldn't stay on top of his research for shiiit.

3. Wedding Events Coordinator : for a local catering company. My first encounter with bridezilla's - probably also the reason I have issues concerning planning my own wedding.

4. Copywhore for an ad agency - looooved it, adored it, ate, drank, lived, shat, breathed it until i woke up and realized it was slowly but surely killing me :(

Four movies I could watch over and over:

1. Sound of Music (don't laugh)
2. Love Jones (when i believed i was the next big thing in spoken word)
3. Kannathil Mutham Ittal (an expose on the atrocities that befell tamil folk in SL)
4. 2-way tie- Garden State/Sideways

Four places I've lived :

1. Colombo, Sri Lanka
2. Malaysia
3. London, Englad
4. Toronto, Canada (since four is the limit on this thing)

Four TV shows I love to watch:

1. Sex and the City (over and over and over again)
2. Project Runway (im such a fashion-whore)
3. Will & Grace ( old school all the way)
4. 2 way tie: Everybody hates Chris/ Family Guy

Four places I've been on vacation (in loosely translated terms):

1. India - nothing beats the heat and the raw bustle of life.
2. London, England (minus the perpetual visiting of relatives)
3. Montreal, QC (still love it regardless of how domestic it seems)
4. NYC, New York

Four of my favorite foods:

1. Roti and butter chicken
2. Sushi/sashimi/endamme
3. Cadbury cream eggs (what? they were a food group at one time)
4. All things sea foody - cuttlefish/crab/salmon/shark/lobster...yum.

Four places I'd rather be right now (also, preferrably alone or with Rama):

1. Ooty, Coonoor - life was easy piecy there
2. NY - overlooking central park
3. London - getting lost in bustling crowds
4. Colombo - sunshine, waves, white sand, a world of culture wafting through

Four sites I visit daily:

1. Google
2. Rogers
3. Blog/Floglines
4. Frugal Bride (okay almost every other day)

Four peeps I am tagging:

1. Pri-pri (she fascinates me)
2. Bears (cuz why not!)
3. Taby (cuz I'd love to know more)
4. Chet (i still don't know too much about him - but im sure he won't touch this with a 10 ft pole)

-::-

that's all folks.

Succinct

2006-01-24T04:36:00.000-08:00

and just plain pithy.

sorry folks - this entry is sans pretty words, thought-provoking concepts or paradigm shifting ideologies...heck, it doesn't even contain the regular jana-ridden rant. This entry is merely a glorified thank you.

--:::--

A huge fan of grossly textured words, I am thrilled to drop some much needed literal screaming on this page. Rarely does it see oodles of joy and today, I want to congratulate it for keeping me sane.

You see, having to be accountable to myself in writing was most definitely a motivator in finding a job. Yup, notice how I slipped that in. I am (insert drumroll here) gainfully employed. Well, I will be gainfully employed as of Wednesday.

Maybe those pesky little disappointments that helped me ring the new year in were just humps of bad fortune I had to surf through – and while it was hard as hell, I am definitely grateful for having had the opportunity to nurture my elephantine skin.

So blog – I propose to continue using, abusing and leaving my mark upon you as often and as much as possible. Perhaps you will be that much needed companion as I crawl through planning weddings and planning forevers. Or perhaps that personal trainer who’ll undoubtedly kick my butt by wielding the threat of coming embarrassments.

Either way, you’ll be around and present which is yet another thing, I’m thankful for.

---:::---

Amen to the written word.

Prepare yourself..

2006-01-18T09:48:00.000-08:00

for honey pots and saccharine words. Enchanted forests and friends who don't stray too far. Today, i'm feeling a little like a yellow cuddly trooper and a lot less like the underdog.

word to the wise:stop reading and turn away right now if you find Pooh and his friends nauseating - because today I'm basking in 'The wisdom of the Pooh'.

--:::--

Dedicated to my dear good friend Rama because nothing could be truer than this sentiment:

"If you live to be 100, I hope to live to be 100 minus 1 day so i never have to live without you". - Pooh (no duh)

--:::--

Dedicated to the me that hides behind the bravado:

"Remember: You're braver than you believe. Stronger than you seem. And Smarter than you think". - Christopher Robin-Winnie the Pooh

--::--
I suppose all will not be right in the world of dedications if this one didn't go out to my most favorite stranger (mikes):

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
"Pooh," he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."”

--::--

And of course to my fam - this one is perrrfect because regardless of what Im doing, THIS is what i'm thinking:

“"I wonder what Piglet is doing," thought Pooh.
"I wish I were there to be doing it, too."
- Winnie the Pooh”

--::--

*sigh*

"Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.”
Pooh is right. For a bear with little brain he speaks big truths.

--::--
I too, as will all of you, get there some day :)

Crazy in love...

2006-01-17T17:29:00.000-08:00

or just plain crazy?

somehow - today feels like the latter.

--:::---
A sweetly melodic voice, amidst the collective noise of the everyday, infiltrates my childhood memories. It haunts me. I was never one for fairytale romances or traditionalist affairs - and yet, before I waltzed into adulthood, I too was privy to the thoughts of lil’ girls as explained by big ones.

‘Sugar and spice and everything nice’ – that’s how it all began. Those were the magic words that flung open a Pandora’s box of estrogenized dreams.

Helllooo pink ribbons and frilly frocks.

It was something my grandma used to constantly say while chunky little me hid behind headboards, on balcony’s and voraciously devoured inappropriate reading material. I think I was 4 when i cracked open my first harlequin (my Lit professor of a grandmother was quite the fan of verbal naughtiness) and while I didn't quite grasp the literal translations...i got the gist.

There was something that these girls made of sugar and spice and everything nice looked forward to as they aged - gracefully or otherwise. An inexplicable feeling that involved another person – another person preferably of the opposite sex. Bedtime stories of white knights and happily ever afters ended as I trod into the world of adult romance. And she used to reassure me that one day - he would arrive – my version of a knight on a brazen horse- and I would be crazy in love.

Quite frankly, I thought her to be quite crazy.

Crazy in love? Or crazy because of love?
Gosh, what did that mean to a five year old?
What did that even mean to a 52 year old? A woman who had created her romantic fantasies in her cerebrum while living a poor imitation of them in her reality. I couldn't project at 5. I didn't realize that once upon a time ( a long long long time ago ) she too was much like me. Young, hungry and unaffected by this thing called love.

Ahh...to be but on that plump lap bouncing with joy to the cadence of sunsets in sri lanka. I would give an arm, a leg and possibly half a torso to relive those moments. Perfection. Ironic isn't it? I barely knew what perfection meant and I was living it. These days, these days are a far cry from those yesteryears - where life was simple, easy and pure as newborn pudgesicles.

--
why the reminiscing? today for the first time, i sat down all by my lonesome to embark on those first steps towards planning a multi-cultural, bi-religious, dual-ethnic wedding. A wedding that would have painted joy in autumn colours on my grandma's face.

I look like her you know. R looks like mom. And lil R looks like my dads mom. But only I - of all our cousins made of the same dirt - only I resemble her. Just me. One in a sea of 6, in an ocean of countless faces - i look in the mirror and i see her. Yet, I can't even remember what she'd want for my wedding. And this pains me to no end. Searching for something more profound, I'm trying to turn back the hands of my memories but sadly to no avail.

It feels incomplete. Today, I felt incomplete. I missed her. I missed her hand stroking my hair, urging me to knot the end of her dupatta, reminding me to make a wish as the sun set, reveling in my newest imaginary adventure and assuring me that one day - prince charming will arrive - even for rambunctious me.

Funny, guess the memo didn’t make it all the way to adulthood. Perhaps we should’ve made the same wish with an identical knot at every sun set. Because sure - Prince charming came. And left. Then his brother rolled by. Followed by cousins, distant relatives, friends, acquaintances and heck, even neighbors. And yet - all those experiments and not one of them were ‘for me’. I seem to have sampled everyone’s prince charming and still hadn’t stumbled on the one earmarked with a ‘j’.

Except for this one guy that I initially didn’t even fathom in that capacity.

I wish she had met Mikey. I wish she had gotten a chance to read him by first glance. To have looked him up and down and assessed his self worth and his intentions by a simple smile. I wish she could tell me what I should be looking out for, educating me as I embark on this process, and making sure that I don't discount any traditions - cultural or familial.

My folks are waaay too easy going. I know, I’m a nutcase for complaining. But honestly, they don't care about rusty ole traditions that creek in annoyance and disturb the peace. They're trying not to be intrusive. Trying to let me garnish this wedding with my own personality...and honestly, i hate it.

I wish they would storm in and tell me what needs to be done (fear. sloth. or both?)She would've. The one who introduced me to words, who taught me how to extend my own boundaries, to have opinions and voice them as such - she wouldn't have watched out for my contemporary visions or feelings. Straight or sugar coated : that was her motto – if it was the latter, you were shit out of luck because even her sugar came with a tinge of screw face inducing sour.

And today i needed that. I needed someone who had a vision in their minds eye - i needed her jasmine scented skin comfortably resting on mine.

--
this post probably makes no sense at all to the average person - my apologies. it was waiting to be purged - unedited, unrevised, uncrafted. While it shames the writer in me – this nervously twitching rhetoric calms my irrational fear of the unknown. A whole lot of question marks exist between these lines and breathe between the spaces of these words.

Periods don’t just end sentences they act as springboards for new ones. Sleep is a necessity and perhaps with it – tranquility will arrive. Neatly packaged and organized. I pray for it to take the place of illogically placed thoughts born of childhood logic - a puzzle that I’m certain to struggle with until it’s released into book form.

Such is the art of being…me.

--:::---

See, i told you. Not crazy in love my dearies - just plain ole "certifiably" crazy.

This year...

2006-01-09T09:13:00.000-08:00

will be THE year of the jana - where resolutions are replaced by mini-activities that i plan to explore and hopefully accomplish in the next 356 days of this year.

You see, those who know me, know well that the mere word 'resolutions' triggers this rebel spirit into formulating secret ways of cheating, sabotaging or flat out breaking them. So this year, i refused to waste my energy on making said resolutions. They've been replaced by 'mini-activities to explore/accomplish' - a fancy to do list inspired by the infamous scorps1027.

--:::---

10 Mini-Activities for 0-6.

1. Write more.

2. Get fit - physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally.

3. Be more mindful. (thath-thavam: to know thyself)

4. Talk less, listen more (same affliction)

5. To treat myself as I do the ones I love.

6. Tie a saree by myself (sans 3,000 safety pins)

7. Get involved in a not for profit activity - something communal.

8. Embrace every opportunity to spend time with the ones I love through this wedding planning process.

9. Reconnect with my girlfriends and apologize to them profusely for my self-afflicted absence

10. Quit pretending to have a thick skin and instead to actually grow one.

----:::----

Bring it on 06 - cuz you ain't seen nothin' yet :)
(she bravely said before she was devoured by the storm...)

Decluttering

2005-12-30T10:55:00.000-08:00

well, more like a painful separation that i'm forcing myself through.

As a shopaholic fashionista (yup, self proclamation) I seem to have amassed quite the wardrobe. Enough to overflow out of the confines of my size 8 shoe box bedroom. It must be a cruel cruel joke played by the powers that be (and my insightful father) - because I (the girl with waaay too many clothes/jackets/wearable items) got the smallest room in the house sans a closet of any kind. So i've been McGuyvering it to make it all work.

Until recently, that is.

I realized that the more I hold onto - the less space I have to fill up. Which theoretically should make me happy considering my unemployed state of being. But no siree - not me. I've embarked on a journey that I should've aeons ago - one that involves decluttering my closet in the hopes of decluttering my life. Organization my ass! This is painful people.

Think of someone maliciously pulling out every single eyelash on your pretty little peepers and then letting it kiss a flame from a defunct zippo. Yup. That's the feeling. Painful.

Most of the things i hold on to and never ever wear come complete with cobwebs and memories. Ones that i can't bear to part with. Call it immaturity or gluttony but regardless of what you name the beast it comes down to the stripping of walls. Well built, well placed walls that protect the Jana fortress. Much like my suit of armour, my act of bravado - so is my closet. Filled to the brim with old memories allowing me to believe that my life is full and complete. With no extra place for newness.

Should work again - theoretically. It works with the emotional and pyschological hoarding. Not so much with the clothing. I still go out and blow my pittance of a savings account on clothing. An addiction. So today - I'm decluttering.

(Note to self: wear protective armour while partaking in this activity. I have a tendency of hurting people (including myself)who try to throw out my precious belongings) - brackets within brackets - I am a veritable scholar.

So long story short - here is a little something that was plastered on a once gorgeous black tee. It's from the early 90's - when i was pro-feminist to the point of puking, obviously had no style (this tee could be a dress), wore lots of lycra regardless of my chunky behind and figured it all made sense in my head. Boy was I wrong...but some of the RULES on my tee (think it was a souvenir from our first trip to Niagara Falls - don't judge people - even diva's were fobs at one point)still ring true.

--
Here they are:

The Rules
1. The female always makes the rules
2. No male can possibly know the rules
3. If the female suspects the male knows all the rules, she must immediately change some of the rules
4. The female is never wrong
5. The female can change her mind at any given point of time
6. The female has every right to be angry or upset at any time
7. The male must remain calm at ALL times, unless the female wants him to be angry, or upset
8. The female must under no circumstances let the male know whether or not she wants him to be angry, or upset.
9. If the female has PMS,all rules are null and void
10. The male cannot diagnose PMS.

--

Sad isn't it? Yet, still funny. Got a little chuckle out of me.

But adios long-black- overly-stretched-out tee, you've been good to me. Through years of all nighters, ugly bouts of "I'm pmsing buzz off", prolonged sad sessions and heart breaks. You will be remembered fondly but all good things must come to an end at some point.

And this would be THAT point for you.

Urgh...back to work jana. Chop Chop! After all decluttering is a humane activity. It lets your once useful recently defunct clothing rest in peace. And simultaneously welcomes your brand spanking new items into a spacious home.

I wonder if this would count as my good deed for the day...

Dolly's heaven bound

2005-11-28T16:50:00.000-08:00

A condensed version of the weekend - my attempt at chronicling an all around feel good vacay!

Friday's Festivities

Friday night was tremendously entertaining - I attended a Taize prayer session at Aunty M's local church. Now now, hold your horses there girlies - Nope, i'm still not switching religious teams but there's nothing wrong with a little extra curricular flirtation. It was calm, peaceful and soothing. An hour of latin chants, candle lighting and no touching of strangers (that's the one thing that irks me about Jesus' clan - they actively reach out and shake each other's hands in the hopes of passing on peace). All in all it was lovely. Dim lights, a near empty chapel, a gorgeously understated hour of spiritual R&R. I relaxed and let the sonorous chants wash my woes away.

We closed up friday night with a viewing of North Country (definitely an Oscar contender) that was both inspiring and angering. Women take too much crap and it's about time some of us stood up and claimed a little bit of dignity back from them XY chromosomed creeps. Although, as the words leave my fingertips I'm quick to realize that this world is also filled with vicious women who have contributed more than their fair share to all sorts of discriminatory practices. Perhaps next time around, I'm going to ask to come back as water - real yet transcending this reality. A late night chow down at Tremendous more than filled the void that the ridiculously good popcorn didn't - and with that Aunty M chased me out of her peripheral vision and welcomed some much needed shut eye.

Saturday Stories

*** i think i waited too long to complete this entry because I can't for the life of me recall what happened during the rest of this weekend. However, stay tuned folks - lots has happened and with the new year you're bound to find a whole slew of new and hopefully entertaining posts. Until then - godbless***

P.S. I got me a fotolog: www.fotolog.com/soulsysta - niiiiice.

Creme de la creme

2005-11-25T15:10:00.000-08:00

today an oxymoron swaddled me like new borns are - part suffocation, part comfort -
part joy, part sorrow as i realized the one truity in my existence:

while i know many - i only love a few.

and whilst one might believe that with age you gather the bag of tricks that is necessary to form a larger (and cohesive) group of buddies - i disagree because if i didn't that would mean that i've failed. And THAT my dear friends would be a damn shame.

however, the few that are loved and adored and revered in my circle will always be accepted - flaws, ticks, quirks and all.
i know, i am quite giving innit?

what brought this suffocating realization on?
blogs.

i stumbled upon a group of blogs - strong, eloquent south asian women across the USofA - who have fallen in the throes of friendship with each other - going as far as travelling thousands of kms to grab a weekend bite and make a few cherishable memories. awww right?

well guess what - i don't have that.

a part of me, the imp that lives within, wishes i did.
a group of people to whom appearances don't matter - to whom words, experiences, revelations set the tone, demeanor and interactions that ensue. a group of people not bonded by the activities they partake in but in the collective emotional growth and failures that they experience.

huh.

reeks a lot like the relationship i have with the inner circle.
and perhaps that's my larger woe - i'm too afriad to realize that i've already got everything that i'll ever need to make this life memorable.

this weekend - i promise to conquer that beast of emotional dissonance.

and if that fails, heck - at least i'll meringue my ass out of this insiduous funk.

Give and Take

2005-11-15T20:48:00.000-08:00

or is it just take take take?

These days, considering how far most of us single gals have come - I wonder if we have lost the ability to have a relationship that's filled with equity. An equal measure of give and take. I wonder if we've grown overly accustomed to catering all our needs first and foremost thereby, forgetting the needs of those that integrate themselves into our existence.

Being in a monogamous relationship for two and a half years and counting - I speak from experience when I say that it's probably the toughest hurdle that one must overcome. I got lucky you see, I have a man who understands that I'm not the greatest at giving and sadly, well equipped in the "taking" department. My wonderful man goes out of the way to school me on the art of balance - a man who is deliciously wrapped in patience and tolerance. Unfortunately not all of us get that lucky.

So how does one deal?

A) Take until the giving runs dry and move on to the next veritable well of generosity
B) Change our inner sanctum of beliefs (Blasphemous I know! but really, more like nudge things around to give a little)
C) Give up. Call it "hard work". Deem it unfit in relationship terms and kick him to the curb.
D) Compromise (the ugly ugly c word for most independent minded singletons)
E) Sift through all those options, look into his eyes and realize that small concessions must be made in order to bask in that blessed divinity.

Huh. Options. Options. Options people.

And at the end of the day - it all boils down to how badly does this one person matter? Is the family outing, the boys night out, an all testosterone poker party - little things - do those matter more than the comfort of the nook you find somewhere between his side and his arm?

Guiltily, I admit I expect my boytoy to go out of his way to attend all family functions, cultural outings, events that make him squirm in his undies and leave him itching to flee - and when he refuses - I balk. I stare at him and think - the AUDACITY to even attempt to duck out of an obligation. Gosh, shouldn't he love me more?

Yet, that very same sentiment is lost when it's his turn to ask a favor. The double standard does exist and I think that every relationship harbors it in its own special secret hiding place. All this was brought on by a mild confrontation that lil R had with B - two souls trying hard to integrate two lifetimes into one love story. Lovely isn't it? Human beings are damn interesting - especially when their emotions are involved. We become children drawing that imaginary line that separates the "us" from "them” all the while forgetting that at the end of the day - we're on the same team just trying to make things peachy for everyone involved.

Dilemma's galore. If anyone figures it out, please feel free to drop me a line and edumacate my broke ass soul.

Im drenched. Literally. The gods that be must be brawlin about something fierce because they've unleashed their watery wrath in bucketfuls. And unawares, I caught myself amidst their row. Not the first and certainly not the last. But, as my fingers freeze over I realize - I relish these moments of absolute clarity.

God Bless.
J

Another shot at stardom

2005-11-14T11:03:00.000-08:00

This evening I've got a meeting with a certain CD of a very reputable ad agency. I've heard great things about both the shop and the people that work there.

While, the word on the street is that they may be looking for a jr. copywhore - im not going to get too excited. After all, cautious optimism is the way to go.

Goodluck me. I hope we kick some serious behind.

But in the offchance that we don't, just remember - we will be fine.

Cheers.

Rubbish or trash - talking?

2005-11-13T22:55:00.000-08:00

In a world where people focus on fulfilling the "right now" - with things such as disposable camera's, disposable lunch boxes and disposable diapers (to name a few) - how disposable are people?

In a recently heated debate, two star crossed lovers (read: 54 kms apart) debated the pros and cons of just that sentiment. The estrogen, alive and kickin for over a 1/4 of a century - proposed that people are replaceable. They have to be in order to survive. At least from her limited experiences. Situations have painted her into a corner - into believing that the only people you can't replace in this world are the people you are born with. Ultimately, they are also the only people you can truly trust. Because other people such as friends, acquaintances, shit - boyfriends even, have to be deemed replaceable in order to protect the frail spirited. You see, people who are disposable can't possibly bludgeon your heart and shatter it to smithereens because well, you can replace them before reciting the entirety of the alphabet.

Now, is that horribly jaded or just plain pragmatic?

Does one have to feel obliged to deem someone indispensible/irreplaceable if they happened to love the said other? Can't we just get along by agreeing to disagree?

A tiny voice in one lonely crevice cries out against this blatant stupidity. "Hell no" she screams. "You cannot believe that the love of your life is replaceable"

And then reality kicks in.

I thought my grandma was for eternity and loved her as such. Loved her in ways that only 6 years olds can. And lost her to a context that made absolutely no sense to me. So lesson 1: when you love someone like they are your own they become indispensable - thereby leaving you seriously screwed when they disappear.

You can't blame a girl for self preservation. It might be childish to some - or heck, even most of you - but honestly - inside this twenty something year old woman searching to establish an identity lies that emotionally raw 6 year old. Still clutching on to an imaginary hand that had already let go.

So disposable or not - that's how the story ends.Unfortunately while some of us brave the realities of heartache and admit to never being able to replace or dispose of certain ties that bind...others of us find solace in knowing that only a handful of people in the entire world have the ultimate power to completely annihalate them.

Preservation - good. Extinction - not so much.

Having said that, i sincerely hope that one day that "said other" will become part of my real family - and when that happens - he will bring with him a pod to connect. And while net sharing can be a gloriously generous activity - pod sharing can get quite complicated. So here's me - eager to share my pod and my home with the love of my life all the while knowing that i have just opened myself up to being hurt by 4 more people.

Note to self: Don't fall in love again. This is a deceptively dangerous activity especially for a chicken shit such as said self.

Yet, another dilemma locked into the vault.
God Bless.

P.S. The yorkdale trip left my inner fashionista starving. Stella's stuff was gone within the first half hour of her debut. She was ravenously devoured by a pack of hungry chic wolverines leaving me remnants that couldn't be recycled. Three bikini's and a chain link purse - yup, that's all they left behind. And even that had a waiting list of piranha's willing to bite. Oh well. Adios Stella - we shall meet again. And next time - maybe it will be in person. ;)

Whew

2005-11-11T13:07:00.000-08:00

over-reacted.

called yorkdale
there's a tiny weeny little selection left
some returns from yesterdays madness

so new plans for the afternoon
drive to yorkdale

im not vain people
i just keep it real'

;)

SOLD OUT

2005-11-11T12:54:00.000-08:00

So, imagine my wrath when i called H&M at Scarborough Town Centre to inqure if they were carrying McCartney's hot new budget line of couture - only to find out that THEY ARE SOLD OUT.

SOLD OUT on BLOOR
and
you guessed it
SOLD OUT at Yorkdale

How do you sell out of an entire LINE of clothing and accessories in HALF a BLOODY EFFIN DAY.

grrr.

now my dreams of owning ONE measely piece of McCartney will wither and die in oblivion.

to the biatches who bought all the shit - i hope you trip, fall and possibly rip the McCartney that should've been mine.

anger.
yup, it's still red.

Seven.

2005-11-11T12:05:00.000-08:00

Okay, this insightful quiz is courtesy of Sibil, (aka, In Transit). Lucky number 7!

7 things I plan to do before I die:

1). Write a book. Publish said book (s).
2). Travel the world & capture it all on black&white film
3). Buy my baby 3rd row courtside basketball tickets for an entire season
4). Own a beautiful house and turn it into a sensational home complete with all my loved ones
5). Live in New York for a couple months and just write.
6). Acquire a few pieces of couture (Coco Chanel, Luis, Blahnik..etc)
7). Have good credit (well, this might be something that I carry over into my next lifetime)

7 things I can do:

1). Spot a new trend in almost anything
2). Write deliciously (albeit when the mood strikes)
3). Be the protector of my litter
4). Get lost even with the greatest directions
5). have a great conversation.
6). cook yummy meals (so long as there’s cable modem in the building).
7). Sell snow to an eskimo/convince myself of anything

7 things I cannot do:
1). Be away from my family for prolonged periods of time
2). complicated numbers – especially while I’m shopping
3). stop drinking coffee.
4). be quiet (unless it’s early morning).
5). resist a great author, a great cup of coffee and a little me time
6). be alone for long periods of time.
7). tolerate stupidity or fools

7 things that attract me to another person:

1). A great smile (the kind that tickles your pupils)
2). Smart/witty repertoire.
3). Manners/etiquette.
4). Individuality/ Comfort in their own skin (quirky)
5). Spontaneity (something I sorely lack)
6). the ability to think outside the box (especially with fashion)
7). Authenticity ( an inimitable spirit)

7 things that I say most often:

1). Shit outta luck
2). Hey buddy
3). OMG!
4). Innit!
5). No freaking way!
6). Now, that’s fabulous!
7). I’m sorry. (what? People are sooo overly-sensitive)

7 People I want to do this:
1). Mikes
2). My dad (that’d be interesting)
3). My sisters
4). Subashini
5). Aunty Madge (she’s crazy banana’s)
6). Priya/Sherry/Mich/Tash (cuz I know lots of little things but not the important ones – like these – insert eye rolling here)
7). Abu ( she’s blood but I still don’t know her very well)

Unemployed or on-vacation?

2005-11-11T10:40:00.000-08:00

This is the question that's been plaguing me since the unfortunate event of my dismissal. Yes I know, I wasn't fired - I was merely restructured out of a job. Yet, these days, that certainly gets lost in translation as I parlay the news to friends, family and the general public. It seems that a lot more people are strangely curious about my employment status now that I find myself shit out of luck on the job front.

So how does a seemingly well adjusted, articulate young writer make a buck in this city? Is it re-jigging my life? My brain? Trading something in or up? Or merely letting go of everything?

Perusing through the dailies one thing is for certain. Successful writers are successful only after they have succumbed to the wrath of the powers that be. That to be successful (in terms defined by society and Webster’s) one must undergo hardship, chaos and general pathos. Tragic isn’t it? So I’ve lifted the ban that I’ve tacked on myself. I am no longer enslaved by mere verbiage. Instead, I’ve found solace within that very term.

I am woman, albeit an unemployed one, hear me roar!

Meow.

Okay, so perhaps the battle cry needs a little more oomph. But that's merely a technicality of life isn’t it? When one door closes another one opens - in some cases, it’s just a window. Not one of those beautiful see-the-ocean- feel-it bay windows where you can swiftly enter without crumpling up your new "take on the world" suit, not even a nicely sized see-the-world-through-this-hole window that you can make it through crinkle free but a grungy attic window. The type that requires a certain sense of agility to crawl through. I reckon being anorexic would also help.

Unfortunately blessed with a healthy gait, a dislike for crawling and a fear of creepy crawlies (that inevitably live in such environments) - I have decided to take this time off. Now, now, there’s no reason to freak out. It's not like im refusing to apply for jobs (both inside and outside the confines of the alphabet) but merely, to take things as they come along. To help my brain learn to let go of pre-conceived bliss that comes with a pre-requisite of achieving certain goals on a certain someone's deadline.

Reading through Oprah's magazine (she is my spiritual bible) I read an article that focused on goals, more specifically the benefit of lacking goals. It basically said that defined goals are similar to putting blinders on - they hinder you from seizing the day and exploring the back roads in life. Written based on the experiences of 200 successful entrepreneurs, philanthropists and business folk - it brings to light their journey to success. None of them ended up where they thought they would. None of them partook in the straight road instead winging it through a circuitous path to bliss. The pith is as follows: Being aspirational is okay. Being goal oriented is damaging. And in those 2000 words (no, I didn't count them - I mean I'm unemployed but I’m still not a loser - that's tomorrows task) I realized that's what I’ve been doing.

I've been waiting for my elusive "In a few years" - I’ve used and abused that term in the worst of times. I've cluttered my advertising existence with "well, its hard now and draining but in a few years I'll be happy"/ "I've gotta succumb to the decision makers now and stifle my spirit but in a few years it'll all be worth it". But honestly, will it? Will it really be worth it? Will I really find utter joy in being accomplished or will it merely open another window/door or mail slot into a world of more goals? OR at least chasing more goals. Will I ever be happy if my joy is dependent on achieving goals that are largely defined by the context my situation?

Any takers? Because I for one realized that no I probably won't. With a type A, obsessive-compulsive, extremist personality such as mine - happiness will always evade me. Always. Because I wouldn't know how to recognize it after all the hunting, chasing and stalking of those very goals. See the vicious cycle? It’s scary how much control my brain has over my life. It is. Especially because my brain wants to control the world without ever giving me the chance to take a chance. Without ever realizing that to write I must be inspired by smelling the roses or the coffee or the stench of putrid poo (whatever the case may be). My brain has me trapped.

So I’m going to take a break. Re-program my brain waves. Let myself realize that if I happen to fall into something that isn't advertising - that's fine. That perhaps that is what life is. Finding a lot and making a garden.

Although considering my sore-nurturing skills - this promises to be a task in and of itself.

So for the next few weeks - I’ll be filling this space with a lot more writing and a lot less hiding.

I tend to do that - hide when my goals are threatened. God, you'd think they control me. Maybe that's why writers/artists/us creative types have such a hard time before we embrace success. We tend to let our goals, our perceptions of joy, our over-blown grandiose productions of what life should be and what happiness should mean overshadow the reality of it all. We miss out on real things because we're preoccupied in the imaginary. Escapism at its best.

While my imagination paints a happily ever after only in advertising - I wonder if I could find that happily ever after in other things. Time is of the essence people - and if the sagging breasts aren't a great indication of that - the tiny lines that cocoon my peepers of times past certainly is.

Explore my little minnow - that's my new mantra. Let’s see how long this gimmick lasts. Because if I know my brain, and I do, it rarely settles for life without a deadline driven plan.

I am forcing my brain into introspective mode, aka vacation mode. Woo-hoo time to bust out some flip flops and a girly magazine. And a small piece of scrap paper in the event I feel the need to re-write my five year plan.

hrmph. There it goes again. Oh brain, why won't you ever listen to pinky.

Until tomorrow, god bless.

Unrestful

2005-09-14T07:51:00.000-07:00

nights.

followed by restless days.

I'm starting to think that i missed one piece of vital information somewhere alongst the chain. I keep calling all these creative directors - leaving them all these messages and 2 - COUNT THAT 2 - people have gotten back to me.

and it's haunting me.

i can't sleep at night because of this blessed trinity of reasons.
1. im worried about the suckyness of my book
2. im worried that nobody seems to return phone calls
3. im scared out of my mind that im going to be unemployed forever

man. what can i do?
what should i do?
this is probably what a man shooting blanks feels on a daily basis.

help.

First shot out of the gates

2005-09-13T19:07:00.000-07:00

and it was hell.

i expected comfort but instead i was welcomed by approximately 7 mins of disappointment.

1st meeting and it already seems hopeless.

the soundtrack in my head is actually a mantra: have faith lil minnow. have faith.

grr.

boredom killed the jana

2005-09-09T12:43:00.000-07:00

ironic.
that's the new definition of my life.

i'm stuck yet unglued.

feels like this is what happens when a hair thin crack appears on exquisite porcelain
it's perfect to those who haven't studied it
and revoltingly real to those who have.

i feel that way right now.
wrinkled, cracked, damaged
yet strangely still intact.

grr.
help.