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.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
the ad world
is not one that is filled with all the glamor of the 60's. we don't roll into work at 10:00am to an office specifically outfitted with a deluxe premium bar and a hoard of secretaries. unfortunately, my life isn't a rerun of an episode of madmen.
instead, i woke up to the pleasantries of an early morning branding session that went into the early afternoon hours.
my belly grumbled along with my brain for having to digest so much newness at such an ungodly hour.
however, i did walk out of that meeting with one key take away ---> listening alone does not affect change. action does.
write that down folks - it is simply brilliant.
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.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
craving
familiarity.
lately, i've got nicotine on my mind.
and despite being smoke-free for 11 months (yup, quite the feat!)
the last few days have been mentally grueling
because my brain seems to be begging for - just.one.drag.
lately, i've got nicotine on my mind.
and despite being smoke-free for 11 months (yup, quite the feat!)
the last few days have been mentally grueling
because my brain seems to be begging for - just.one.drag.
hrmph.
it's fall.
as in, the summer weather that was misplaced en route to me, is now officially being shooed out the door. yup, life is indeed - unfair.
september always smells of newness - more so than january does. summer's done. school's in. the markets pick up. life gets busy. and this year, i walked into the newness, complacently. Mind you that's only because nothing can compare itself to last year's entrance - sheathed in brave new decisions and navigating a new career path.
my mantra (the same old one) is to try to visit this spot a little more. post some more. write some more. vent some more. pen myself out of my issues - some more.
in the meantime, i was witness to a pretty gruesome marital spat in the last little while. the infuriated husband screamed: if I'm a bad husband it's because you are a bad wife.
my reaction:
a bad husband is not created by a bad wife. he is actually created by a bad mom and an unhealthy parental relationship. but nice try buddy.
yup. that's my thought for the day.and it nicely reflects the cynicism that's becoming a part of my so-called-nature.
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.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
48 hours of bliss
oops, minus 6.
this past weekend was our annual "end-of-summer" shopping trip. we (R3 + lil J) look forward to this weekend all summer long. sure, it means the end of the summer (considering the crappy weather we've had - this year, we couldn't wait to leave summer, the traitor, behind and dive into fall) but more importantly, it also means copious amounts of shopping - and trust me, nobody shops as hard or as seriously as the four of us do.
the weekend was filled with too much laughter, greasy comments, sketchy jokes, lots of chatter, some bugs (the two legged and winged variety) and of course - lots and lots of shopping bags. we put our usual excuse of requiring retail therapy out of her misery and fully embraced our manic desire to burn all our money and melt our plastic.
some choice moments:::
life partner (all 26 minutes of it); 4 half asleep women, 1 bathroom in the AM (enough said); arguments punctuated with laughter; crossing the border; "hey, your accent changes!"; the bladder calls - TGforPrime; Michael Kors *swoon* (yes, he came home with me); "he's small but needs a double xl"; 2 hrs of boy shopping; "oooh, look at the corelle dinnerware" -- "oh no, she's part of the wives club"; $3 tee's @ old navy + hot tanned cashout guy who likes a frugal girl = lil j's dream; auntie annie makes good sugary bread sticks; getting lost (again); checking in; strange stares from a wedding party as four brown people holding 30 bags try to fit into the worlds smallest elevator; walden *bliss*; "i can make you that headband - Eff Jcrew" - no thanks :); forever19 spent 120minutes at forever21; bff's random sweater-find *envy*;remembering that food is a necessity - jacks wings; someone sucks on balls; 828 to 806 - thanks mini buggies; dragging 50 retail bags across a ridiculously long hallway; cheaper by the dozen; laughter; more laughter; then someone peed; borders; $1 target milkyways; IHOP & Dominique; rain; more laughter; "excuse me, am i a car?"; i freaking heart you guys; dumb & dumber; 8 photos = 20 minutes of entertainment for people sitting by the booth; excuses & tales to cross the border; "you always pick the wrong line"; cute customs guy - zero questions; long eyelashes - longer drive; spent emotionally and physically; at the end of it all - i freaking heart you guys.
phew. as a group, we all helped out the US economy by spending some serious $$$ on the other side of the border. it was an amazing weekend and i. feel. so. blessed. I have great friends that i can laugh and get on with - knowing all the while that we'll still be together 20 years from now. Unless one of them b*@&h's disses my baby - jcrew.
--::--
and of course, i got home to find my favorite stranger - back from his journey - in one piece.
11:36pm on sunday night:::::life couldn't have been better.
this past weekend was our annual "end-of-summer" shopping trip. we (R3 + lil J) look forward to this weekend all summer long. sure, it means the end of the summer (considering the crappy weather we've had - this year, we couldn't wait to leave summer, the traitor, behind and dive into fall) but more importantly, it also means copious amounts of shopping - and trust me, nobody shops as hard or as seriously as the four of us do.
the weekend was filled with too much laughter, greasy comments, sketchy jokes, lots of chatter, some bugs (the two legged and winged variety) and of course - lots and lots of shopping bags. we put our usual excuse of requiring retail therapy out of her misery and fully embraced our manic desire to burn all our money and melt our plastic.
some choice moments:::
life partner (all 26 minutes of it); 4 half asleep women, 1 bathroom in the AM (enough said); arguments punctuated with laughter; crossing the border; "hey, your accent changes!"; the bladder calls - TGforPrime; Michael Kors *swoon* (yes, he came home with me); "he's small but needs a double xl"; 2 hrs of boy shopping; "oooh, look at the corelle dinnerware" -- "oh no, she's part of the wives club"; $3 tee's @ old navy + hot tanned cashout guy who likes a frugal girl = lil j's dream; auntie annie makes good sugary bread sticks; getting lost (again); checking in; strange stares from a wedding party as four brown people holding 30 bags try to fit into the worlds smallest elevator; walden *bliss*; "i can make you that headband - Eff Jcrew" - no thanks :); forever19 spent 120minutes at forever21; bff's random sweater-find *envy*;remembering that food is a necessity - jacks wings; someone sucks on balls; 828 to 806 - thanks mini buggies; dragging 50 retail bags across a ridiculously long hallway; cheaper by the dozen; laughter; more laughter; then someone peed; borders; $1 target milkyways; IHOP & Dominique; rain; more laughter; "excuse me, am i a car?"; i freaking heart you guys; dumb & dumber; 8 photos = 20 minutes of entertainment for people sitting by the booth; excuses & tales to cross the border; "you always pick the wrong line"; cute customs guy - zero questions; long eyelashes - longer drive; spent emotionally and physically; at the end of it all - i freaking heart you guys.
phew. as a group, we all helped out the US economy by spending some serious $$$ on the other side of the border. it was an amazing weekend and i. feel. so. blessed. I have great friends that i can laugh and get on with - knowing all the while that we'll still be together 20 years from now. Unless one of them b*@&h's disses my baby - jcrew.
--::--
and of course, i got home to find my favorite stranger - back from his journey - in one piece.
11:36pm on sunday night:::::life couldn't have been better.
a yearning
for pol sambol.
dear sri lanka,
lately, you've been on my mind. there must be something in the air because everywhere i turn, i hear a haunting whisper that tickles every cell and blossoms into a festival of goosebumps. it follows me, begging me to come back home.
but sri lanka, lets be honest here - you were never home to me. i was mostly just a squatter. there with no permanence in mind. flying in and out for hot summers by the sea.
and that's why i find your behavior astonishing. and my reaction - terrifying. i can't seem to shake this feeling. i keep searching for your likeness in things that are fundamentally so un-like you. it's apposite though.
the older i get - the more i want to sink back into your lap and my past of smocked cotton dresses, papaya's on street corners and royal bakery runs.
2011 can't come soon enough. until then, taunt somebody else.
in fact, i will even recommend a few people who could use a little reminding of exactly where they came from :)
love,
the Canadian*
*for now.
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.
Monday, April 27, 2009
List # 3: 3 things that i can't control...
that drive the hubs and me into a funk.
1. Other people having babies. This requires an explanation. This weekend the hubs and I lived separately. We did our own thing and yet both our weekends were filled with babies. People making them. Having them. Trying for them. Pining for them. You name it - we saw it. Different circumstances - absolutely. But we both got the same underlying question asked many a time during the last 48 hours - when will it be our turn. Now, it's nobodys business but our own but having a broken diabetic-ridden baby is not our idea of a good time. So i'm figuring out my diabetes while he cools his heels. And we're fine with that. WTH, I'm not even 110% sure that I'm completely ready for a screaming bundle of joy. And yet, when i see all our friends venture down that path - it kinda puts me in a funk. Not because i'm not happy for them - but because their next step makes me feel peer pressured. OMG. That's it. I feel peer pressured to get pregnant.
Now, there's a wonderful reason to procreate.
2. Our families. Obviously a marriage is about negotiating between two very different continents completely removed from one another. There are things that our respective peeps do that drive the other bonkers. It is completely out of our control and we're bound not only by mutual respect and love to shut up and put up - but sometimes, and only sometimes, it drives us both into that grey zone.
And in those moments of sheer madness, for one nanosecond, we wish the other was an orphan, with no ties that bind.
3. Busy Schedules. Okay, so this one is a shadey number three. We always attempt to clear some time for each other and it works on the stuff that we can control. But sometimes, it's not us. I swear. It's the rest of the world. We find ourselves completely bogged down with event, after event, after event. And sure, we could say "no" and politely decline or just pretend we never got the invite - but most of these events spring from people that are close to us where the guilt of saying no - would be more haunting than the act of just playing along. And so we do. But of course, the lack of alone time slowly eats away at the seams of our relationship until a lonesome thread unravels and someone loses an eye.
This weekend was a combination of all three things. Thankfully none of them blew up to the point of no return. But i wonder...how strong is our bond...how much can it take..and we haven't even reached our year 2 milestone.
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.
Monday, April 13, 2009
List Two: Five Flaws
Easter was nice. Busy but nice. I did something that I am highly unaccustomed to doing: giving away my stuff. AKA - a wardrobe purge. Mikey forced me into it - and considering that i had 6/7 things per hanger squished into my slidey closet - it made total sense. More so because I spend a fair bit on my clothes - and as much as I hate to admit it - your clothes do need some breathing room. So 3 garbage bags later - my closet feels lighter and strangely my life more organized. Who knew my clothes had so much to do with everything in my life!
--
Flaw one: i am all or nothing - all the time about everything.
Flaw two: i expect too much from people - from simple things like etiquette to bigger and more illustrious things.
Flaw three: i am loyal to a fault when we're talking about people i love.
Flaw four: i start things on a whim but rarely see them through.
Flaw five: i am allergic to the idea of saving.
Flaw six: i have zero will power about a lot of things.
Flaw seven: i rarely follow instructions.
--
hmmm...i could go on i think. but in the hopes of saving my self-esteem from a beat down - i think i'd like to stop now.
--
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.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
My Guilty Pleasure: List 1
A girlfriend at work recently bought a great designy book called Listography: Your Life in Lists. And it’s a gorgeous book for sure – the design is impeccable, the thoughtful renderings, the artistic feel – it’s all papier perfection. Flipping through it, I realized that it’s great fodder for those days when you feel like writing but you have nothing of any consequence to put out there.
So here we go – my first list.
My guilty pleasures (in no particular order):
1. Books: I know, I know. I can borrow them, devour them and return them. But there’s something so gratifying about owning great blocks of moving words…*sigh*
2. Shift dresses : I love a vibrant sheath of tangerine silk. Fuschia? Bring her on! The brighter the better and I will rock it all through the winter. Although recently – grey is my new neutral black.
3. Coffee: Despite the economic situation – I can always rationalize a great cup of coffee despite its price tag.
4. Fresh cut papaya/pineapple: a winter splurge that my belly loves and a summer staple I look forward to.
5. ‘Spend the days’ at home with the fam: it rejuvenates my spirit, refreshes my mind and readies me for the week ahead. Sure I feel bad that I leave my hubs for a whole day every weekend but hey, personal space can be a strengthening element in a marriage.
6. White summery linen: anything.
7. 700 Thread Count Sheets: swoon.
8. Long chats with bestie: a necessity
9. South Asian Literature: I’m not biased. I just have a favorite that my mind gravitates towards.
10. Shopping. I know I shouldn’t, especially now. But I love it.
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.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
this morning
there's one thing eating me that i haven't eaten - just yet.
i am consumed by this insanely ravenous hunger. And you guessed it ladies - it's probably THAT time of the month (or at least I hope so). And i can only tell because if someone unleashed me, i would probably eat the roof over my head.
just another reason being a woman isn't all fun and games.
i must go now, the roof calls.
i am 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.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
i. am. an. addict.
to all sorts of things.
and these days, it has become far more apparent than it ever was.
I mean, i always knew I had that "all or nothing" personality happening and I knew that liking something consistently (in my case for more than 2 days) meant it quickly became a habit. You won't believe how many times I've squealed "i can't live without!!!!"
And yet, today, I'm surprised by this observation.
Here are three things I've become extremely addicted to in the last 6 weeks:
* trolling the jcrew website - i am hurtin' for one of everything. prayin', wishin' and hopin' beyond belief that this recessionary crap subsides so i can purchase away to my hearts content, minus the doom of the exchange rate. unfortunately, the hubs has made it very clear that he refuses to oblige my jcrew addiction when it comes to paying that venomous cross-border shipping charge. can someone start working on that please?!?!
* shopping in general for all sorts of things. the rest of the world is focused on holding on to what they've got. My silly brain on the other hand sees this as the perfect opportunity to find everything i need - in the colour i want, in MY size. See how i rationalized that? I do this everyday. Everyday, i have the urge to spend.
(i should think about adopting a 30 day no-shopping cleanse. oh who am i kidding! i'd rather starve than not shop - which also brings me to addiction #3)
* i'm obsessed with the weight that i've gained. for those of you who know me, you know i started the whole insulin treatment thang. well it's great for my future babies since they won't have to suffocate in an overly-sweet belly environment - but not so great for my carefully designed wardrobe. The pay-off of healthy babies doesn't seem to be enough to rationalize this one, right now at least. I've gained 14lbs over the last 4 months. What The HELL is up with that?!!?!? So my new obsession - working out in the mornings - healthy you say? Nah, only because like the shopping, food/coffee and literature addictions - it consumes every waking moment. And it's now a disease.
i.need.help.
hence the hiatus.
I've been feeling out of sorts as of late. Discombobulated by life, if you will. Caught up in a whirlwind of things - emotions, events, evolution. I feel burdened and yet strangely irresponsibly free.
And amidst all that, i stopped blogging. All it took was 2 days and i was hooked on the action of not coming back.
and we're back full circle.
let's see if i remember this spot tomorrow.
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.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Random bits of coupledom.
I know. I suck. Instead of a real post I keep regurgitating these totally random survey type lists. There's a lot I want to say but very little time to really let it fly on paper (or blog). Soon though. i promise.
in the meantime - bits of us, together.
♥ What are your middle names?
I heart Mikey's - it's Lawrence, after his grandfather. Mine - not so much - it's Radha.
♥ How long have you been together?
On April 11th 2009 we'll turn 6.
♥ How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We met on April 4th and he asked me out on April 11th. We saw each other 5 times between those two dates - he met my folks and my BFF before the 11th as well! When you know, you just know.
♥ Who asked who out?
Mikey asked me out - my version.
Jana asked me to ask her out - his version.
i say - potato, potahtoe!
♥ How old are each of you?
We were both '77 babies - he screamed his way into the world in september and i kicked my way out in october.
♥ Whose siblings do/ did you see the most?
Mine.Come on now, anyone that knows me knows I'm umbilically connected to my FAM.
♥ Do you have any children together?
Nope. But we're definitely talking about starting a project later this year.
♥ What about pets?
2 kitlets. Tigi, who really is more like a dog than a cat. And Zigi - the biatch.
♥ Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
The same 2 issues that we identified in our pre-marital classes: Balancing time with our families while creating our own family and chatting about money.
♥ Did you go to the same school?
Nope. Never. We were continents apart.
♥Are you from the same home town?
Not really. We spent the last 12 years in the GTA, which is how we met etc - but even then on opposite ends of the city.
♥ Who is the smartest?
Me - book smart, trend smart. Him - just. plain.old.smart.
♥ Who is the most sensitive?
Him. Hands down.
♥ Where do you eat out most as a couple?
In the last couple of weeks, Saravana Bhavan has been our spot.
♥ Where is the furthest you two have traveled together?
Dubai.
♥ Who has the craziest exes?
Me. Definitely.
♥ Who has the worst temper?
I have the quickest flaring temper. But mine fizzles out after a few short intense sparks. His is the exact opposite. It takes a lot of provocation on my part to ignite it - but once it happens, watch out world - it's time for some serious fireworks.
♥ Who does the cooking?
We have our days. Literally. We've split the week so we both get a chance to call upon our inner chef.
♥ Who is the neat Freak?
I'm OCD about cleaning but i'm the queen of clutter. He likes things clean but isn't always motivated to clean things. There lies are most frequent arguments.
♥ Who is the more stubborn?
We seem to take turns with this one.
♥ Who hogs the bed?
Him. Definitely. He has this strange ability to wrap himself around me while sprawling out. He hogs. I drool. Whatever.
♥ Who wakes up earlier?
Me. Always. Especially on the weekends. And then, I must wake him up as well. I can't bear to be the only one awake. So now, I'm looking into early morning weekend yoga classes.
♥ Where was your first date?
Reel world Film Festival - watched Flavors.
♥ Who has the bigger family?
Me. I have 2 sisters. And close to 30 first cousins who are all local. So I win that one, hands down.
♥ Do you get/give flowers often?
I'm not into flowers so I don't get any. I know, heartless.
♥ How do you spend the holidays?
driving mostly. we try to split fam time in the middle. it sure is hard being loved.
♥ Who is more jealous?
Neither. We don't do jealousy. It just gets in the way of a good time. Although sometimes I am envious that he can eat all the sugary candy he wants.
♥ How long did it take to get serious?
4 months.
♥ Who eats more?
Mikey.
♥ Who does/ did the laundry?
I do. Although he gets most of his work clothes dry cleaned.
♥ Who’s better with the computer?
He is. But I'm on it more - i think.
♥ Who drives when you are together?
Him.
♥ Who has more tattoos?
Me.
♥ Who is more social?
Me.
♥ If you are married/engaged, where did he/she propose?
Mt. Tremblant - Dec 9th 2004.
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.
Monday, February 09, 2009
25 bits of randomness
in lieu of a real post.
everyone's doing it, so i did too.
and yes, if everyone jumped, i'd be right there behind them ;)
--::--
1.To some H20 is a necessity. I concur. Only because you need it to make my MUSTHAVE beverage of choice – coffee. I have been known to sometimes guzzle 5 venti’s a day. A dash of milk and no sugar, thanks!
2.I have a serious clutch/bag addiction but only so far as owning them. I feel an unmistakable desire to complete the purchase and then it sits in a big plastic bin with 50 others waiting for its turn to be trotted out. I think I’ve got about 25 with the tags still on.
3.My biggest weakness is my inherent fear of failure. It also happens to be one of my biggest strengths.
4. I have a shelf full of gorgeous notebooks, each with a few neatly populated pages. None of them have been used more than a handful of times. It’s a sickness I tell you.
5. I heart tropical everything. My life would be perfect if I could transport all the parts of it to a hotter climate. My secret dream is to move to Sri Lanka / Dubai / Malaysia and bask in sunshine all day.
6.I always need to sleep with my toes covered, regardless of how humid it is. I have an irrational fear that exposing my toes would be an open invitation for some type of insect, to suck the life blood out of me. Growing up in the tropics can do this to you.
7.Breakfast is my favorite mealtime - hands down. I could eat Buttermilk Pancakes, Waffles or Bombay Toast all day & never get bored.
8.I used to be a copywriter that hated being told what to write. Oh, and detested writing short copy. That probably explains why I’m on the accounts side now.
9.I laugh when I’m nervous. I thought it was a good thing. Pissed-off clients think otherwise. So I'm working on learning to stifle the urge.
10.I can’t stand wine – red, white or iced. Hard Liquor on the other hand – I’m A-OK with that! It sure doesn’t make for romantic candle lit meals though!
11.I love cake. When I went to Sri Lanka, they had to restrain me from spending my entire vacation at Royal Bakery. They’ve got the best chocolate cake hands down. Green Cabin would be second.
12.I must wear a watch at all times. And I always have a favorite. When said favorite dies, i go through an emotional process before picking the next one.
13.Once I get into a routine, it becomes the “only” way to get something done. Ex: Cleaning. I got up at 7am on a Sunday last year and cleaned the entire place in an hour. Now I firmly believe that a 7:00am cleaning session is the only way to start a Sunday.
14.I hate talking about money but enjoy spending it ☺ My BFF and I share this trait, amongst others.
15.I can bite my toe nails. Not that I do. Anymore at least.
16.I love looking at people’s photos (new or old) and albums. In fact, I’ve been known to look at the same albums multiple times on multiple visits. Yet I enjoy every time, like it was the first.
17.I come from a family of poseurs. When a camera comes out, watch out world, we all think we’re the next Lakshmi Menon.
18.I used to be a theatrical kid and put my skills to good use while I was in junior school. One year, I played Good King Wenceslas in a Christmas play. I think they picked me because I was the jolliest (re: chunkiest) 10-year old they could find. I won an award for being a chubs.
19.My mom used to dress all three of us girls alike (fave outfit: these tee's with our faces on it). It looked fine on Rama and Rashi since they were only a year apart and looked incredibly similar. Me on the other hand, I always looked like a giant with these faces swimming in my belly.
(Strangely, these days, Rama and I get confused for one another all the time.)
20.I am a sucker for a good madras kappi (Bru rocks). I think that’s what sealed the deal with Mikey - date #4. We were at Madras Dosa Hut and he expertly mixed my coffee madras 'tumbler-to-dish’ style and had me hooked.
21.I must speak to my family at least once a day. Even when I travel overseas, much to the chagrin of my husband.
22.I am accident prone to the nth degree. I spontaneously trip over my own feet, walk into things, drop things on my extremities - it's like i have to meet a minimum # of band aids used everyday, sorta rule.
23.I used to read the dictionary for fun. On weekends especially. Sometimes, I still do. The thesaurus was for really special occasions only. Like Birthdays.
24.I love trying different types of food and it’s so easy to do that in a city, like Toronto, that thrives on its multicultural DNA. Thai food would have to be my favorite type of cuisine.
25.I love libraries but have a love-hate relationship with library books. I hate people who feel the need to leave bits of their lunch between the pages. Or even worse, the margin-writers! Hence I buy most of the books I want to read.
--::--
surprisingly, i wrote this in 30mins at work. and i had to scale the list back.
i am obviously far more random than i gave myself credit for.
yup, only monday.
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.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
one word.
is all it takes.
another random survey.
only rule: the answer has to be just one word.
(inspired by shirls)
here we go:
1. Where is your cell phone? clutch
2. Your significant other? restless
3. Your hair? overgrown
4. Your mother? lovely
5. Your father? cuddly
6. Your favorite food? Thai
7. Your dream last night? uneventful
8. Your favorite drink? coffee
9. Your dream/goal? passion
10. What room you are in? hall
11. Your hobby? shopping
12. Your fear? failure
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? laughing
14. Where were you last night? Movies
15. Something that you aren't? Consistent
16. Muffins? Cake
17. Wish list item? Fiji
18. Where you grew up? Canada
19. Last thing you did? groceries
20. What are you wearing? lululemon
21. Your TV? off
22. Your pets? kitties
23. Friends? Family
24. Your life? Family
25. Your mood? content
26. Missing someone? nobody
27. Car? Honda
28. Something you're not wearing? Ring
29. Your favorite store? JCrew
30. Your favorite color? orange
33. When is the last time you laughed? today
34. Last time you cried? January
35. Who will resend this? nobody
36. One place that I go to over and over? home.
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.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Independence Day
05°56'N 79°58'E
That’s where I was born. And yesterday, amidst cluster bombs, hostile take-overs and countless lives lost, the island turned 61. The political lips paid service to their achievements blanketed by false bravado while in the north, another bomb wiped out a lone standing hospital. With patients who had no doubt traveled to find medicinal relief from their pain and suffering. Big surprise: came for a Tylenol. Went. Back. Dead.
Happy Birthday Sri Lanka!
Sixty-one years of independence. The celebrations of a much sought after freedom from a country that left its imprint by significantly scarring the identity of the island. Unmistakably. They came together then. It was probably the last time the Tamil folk saw eye to eye with the Sinhalese majority. Like displaced children, the island now hobbles along. Survival, being its only goal.
And cloistered in the warm glow of those sixty-one years is the hidden pearl of Ravana. A fifty-year old civil war. One that has effectively eradicated the idea of Sri Lanka being the Isle of Serendipity. The only hidden jewel on the island these days – is the rampant unpredictability that is a mainstay. There’s so much beauty there but once the government is through with their grenade-play, who knows what will be left for the outside world to see.
My history will always remain inaccessible, just like that. A past learnt through stories told and lives lost. Make shift graveyards, mass funerals, ration cards, no lights, and no hope that the situation will be resolved– that’s what tinges every memory I’ve ever been privy to hearing. Their tear ducts have cried themselves dry. The well of their emotions, dry after each pail drew more out. Some things just don’t replenish themselves. To me, there is no freedom in that context. No freedom of speech, thought or action when even your memories are molested, raped and pillaged by faceless ghosts of a past you will never understand. Let alone accept.
It’s alarming that nobody I know remembers it the way I do. In the folly of my youth, I must have collected those droplets of Ceylon perfection and stored them like tamarind seeds in air-tight tins, stashed away to be found by a displaced and slightly jaded North American.
To me, the island is like a beautiful painting that once thought it could. And THAT makes me just a tad sadder than I already am.
--
I lied. The only other person who remembers things the way I do is probably my BFF.
It’s just one of the many many things we share. That’s why I love her the best. Because she has the same memories as me – and when you have a childhood that involved packing up and moving around a lot – you really appreciate the one or two consistencies in your life. For me, it was her. Regardless of the boarding school, I always knew that BFF was a couple of buildings down glad that we were in this together.
It’s the one thing that got us through a lot of different things. And yet these days, connecting with BFF has been harder than it ever has been.
You see, my BFF is getting married. She is getting married to someone who is incredibly interested and involved in the wedding planning and process. Good for them! I mean, how often do you see a groom that’s interested in EVERYTHING? (Including the bride’s makeup choices!* I can be so catty when threatened.). But, here’s the larger question – where does that leave me? I had an unsettling conversation with BFF last night that left us both sad, broken hearted and weeping ourselves to sleep.
The general impression she has is that as her BFF I should be more involved and know more about the details of their wedding. Agreed. She pretty much ran the entire year and a half before my big day. But, I didn’t have a groom that wanted to be involved in the big things, let alone the details. The other thing is that my BFF isn’t the most “bridey” of all brides. I mean, at least I was okay with talking about the wedding – she usually turns grumpy and sour when the wedding is brought up. She’s just not that into the planning phase of things. Strange –because she was all over it for mine. I mean, it was more like her wedding than my own. And I was grateful because I wasn’t really into the details either. But with BFF, nobody brings up the wedding because we don’t want to upset her.
And last night, I realized that it upset her that we weren’t trying to push our way in and get involved.
So where do I fit into this equation? What am I Supposed To Do?
I have a BFF that I absolutely adore. A soon-to-be Brother In Law that wants to keep the planning process under wraps – involving just himself, BFF and my dad on select occasions. And then there’s BFF herself – she’s definitely the Gayle to my Oprah – and yet last night, I felt like we had both let each other down in a fundamental way. She thinks I don’t care about her and her impending nuptials. (Which is enough to make me livid – because how.can.you.not.notice.how.much.i.care?!?!) And because I care so much, I try not to upset her fiancée by being myself (the bully that tells people how things should be done). Instead, I tip toe around wishing I could be more involved and return to those days of late night conversations about silly things like napkin colours, overlays and the song our parents will walk in to!
I would love to be all up in this – looking at options, making decisions, bustin’ serious vendor balls– I thrive on this type of thing. But one of the most important things in my life is my relationship with BFF and I don’t want to say or do anything to jeopardize that in the long run. And so I’ve kept myself out of the loop and I’ve been extremely un-involved. To the point where it makes me sad and is probably collecting particles to become the big ball of resentment. Dysfunctional much? Probably. But heck, at least I can self-diagnose it!
Argh. I am so frustrated. Sad. And taking it all out on my poor hubs. His only mistake was to marry my overly-emotional, manic depressive behind. Oh yes, and he married my family. A typical 5 for the price of 1 Sri Lankan Deal!
Don’t get me wrong, I heart coming from an estrogen driven family. Usually. But, these are the types of misunderstandings that get in the way of our standing order of laughter and good times. And just this once, I’d like to be able to say: …next! And move the ‘eff on. But a little birdy tells me there’s probably a lot more of this to come before July 11th 2009.
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 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.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Top 10 moments of January 2009
A new tradition, for a new year. In an attempt to capture the moments of every month, I will attempt to compile a commemorative list of every month.
1.New Year’s Day: realizations and revelations abound. I finally understood that to be an independent adult, I had to learn to flutter my own wings and fly. Shortly after that I realized that I CAN have it all – nobody can compromise my beliefs except myself.
2. Discovering www.kottu.org - a Sri Lankan blog aggregator. It's interesting seeing how the other side of the world relishes this seemingly elusive identity of being Sri Lankan.
3.Pongal 2009 whispered it’s way in and straggled out amidst the craziness of snowstorm after snowstorm. January has been brutal.
4.Having Vaxi aunty inaugurate our crib by accepting a lunch invite. It was super! I realized I love entertaining, even if it does involve a lot of work.
5.Bride Wars with the girls – bad movie but great times. I heart being part of a trinity. The older I get, the more I can count on my siblings. I heart that times a trillion.
6.Mikes and I discovered a common love for tilapia, spinach, chicken potpies and soup in our efforts to eat in more (last year we ate out 3 nights a week + the weekends). We’ve got a nice little marital routine going when it comes to our endeavors in the kitchen. I'm starting to find my groove as a wifey :)
7.Watching Thatha cut his first cake in 75 years and simultaneously realizing how much we have. And incidentally, how lucky we have been.
8.Realizing that I want a little person too. One day. With Mikes. Only.
9.Books relished this month: Michael Ondaatje’s ‘Anil’s Ghost’ , Meera Syal’s ‘Life isn’t all hahaheehee’ and the first 72 pages of ‘Love Marriage’ (I was completely wrong. And blinded by my own insecurities. The novel is becoming a worthy and memorable read. And in good time too.)
10.Fave purchase of the month: Gray nail polish after months of relentless searching. Closely followed my incandescent dance with jcrewing online. Oh yes, and realizing that lying to my warden is probably not the best of ideas, in the long run ☺
And this month is especially, special. Because today, I realized how little I know about the conflict in Sri Lanka. My brain has been assaulted by the many news stories. Human chains and protests in Toronto. And I, found out, just like the rest of the unaffected population did. On tv. And yet, these are supposedly my people. This is apparently the story that has influenced my entire journey - or that of my parents at least.
So my goal for Feb 2009 is to educate myself. I want to really understand the situation there. It’s alarming that we’re using the word “genocide” to describe what Tamil people are going through in Sri Lanka. I want to know more so I can figure out how I can make a difference and be a part of the solution. Not as an International bystander. But. As. A. Sri.Lankan. Ambitious much? Might be. But heck, Bringiton!
And with that I bid January, adieu!
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!
Friday, January 30, 2009
Pointless but poignant
How far do you have to fall before you realize you’ve fallen?
Is it the phonetic echo of the thud when your bum grazes twice glazed cherrywood flooring? Or is it the physical drop of your heart floating in the juices of your belly as someone’s lips delivers news it can’t bear to entertain? Or could it be all the moments in between that first feeling of “uh oh” and “this sucks”?
And most importantly, if you fall when nobody is watching, does it really count?
--
the above is not meant to be cryptic at all. I actually don’t know where it came from – all I know is that I opened a blank document and my fingers threw up a gargantuan mess that assembled itself into something. Something to ponder at least.
PONDER.
I don’t think enough people use the word ponder in their day to day lives. I’m going to single-handedly change that. From now on, I will ponder about using the word ponder as often and much as possible. I will be Little Miss. Ponder. Or maybe MissPonderiffic! I see a bright yellow unitard with tangerine swirls and a pink sparkly headband. *sigh* Sure as heck sounds a lot more fun than how I feel right about now.
I feel sorry for the poor suckers in my life that will have to no doubt endure this for the next 2 hours. Who am I kidding? With my special brand of ADD, I’ll move on and forget all about it in 10mins flat.
It’s almost the weekend. And after this week, which has really felt more like 4 long weeks loosely sewn into one, I’m ready for a kitkatbreak from work. Hence the nonsensical rambling…chalk it up to a Friday kinda fever.
I can't wait to curl up with a good read and a yummy espresso.
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.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
I must confess
That I am jealous.
Not the garden-variety type of jealous – but the kind that gargles, bubbles and slowly froths deep within the innermost pit of your belly. Somebody turned the internal espresso machine on – and left it unattended.
If I must admit one thing it is that I’ve always wanted to write a book. As many kind and incredibly biased people have told me – apparently I can write. One would hope so considering that I used to be a copywriter in my past life. But the thought of short pithy lines always left me hungry for a little more. The courses I’ve taken on short fiction – have been great and truly encouraging. But the thing is, I lack the fundamental characteristics that are required of a writer: persistence, perseverance and the mojo to keep going regardless of all else that flitters through your world.
My mantra is: one of these days….hopefully in the next 5 years.
So my “book” (insert air quotes here) was always going to be about my relationship with Sri Lanka and the many threads that bind me securely to the country of my birth. And perhaps the underlying reason that lets me embrace my good friend, procrastination, is that partly – I haven’t figured out the seed of my union with that little chaotic jewel in the sea. My one style technique though was to utilize the thirrukurral – hardly a unique tool but in my mind, it all made sense.
And then I picked up this book called Love Marriage by an incredibly talented young, Sri Lankan author. And there in plain daylight was one vein of my story laid out interspersed with verses from none other than the thirrukurral. And my heart sank. The first thought I had was: uh oh, I guess I did wait too long.
But I went ahead and tried to keep an open mind as I sat down to devour the book. And I kept stumbling. Now initially, I chalked it up to my childish nature – so maybe I was a little bitter that someone beat me to the punch – although the rational me did realize that my punch was entirely different but set in the same context. And that’s okay. A trillion books have been penned about India – and yet, there are still a trillion more stories to tell. So no worries – right? Right, said the right side of my brain. Umm okay, whispered the left.
So last night, I climbed into bed in my comfy jammies and tried to crack it open again. One deep breath, then another and I still can’t seem to motivate myself to get through the book. I’m embarrassingly on page 35 or something silly like that after a week of “reading”. I’m still working on it. And I realized the reason last night. I lean towards people who can write pictures. Yup, I’m a traitor.
I tend to eagerly fall into the arms of writers who are firmly rooted in imagery. I get lost between the letters that breathe life to vivid pictures where I can choose the colours that would define the emotions being discussed. And I tend to write like that – flowery and filled with pictures. It’s the only way that I feel anything for a character – when I can identify with them.
And this writer – she is far from flowery. Her craft embodies the poise of rewriting. Everything is composed just right – the simplest language tied together in the simplest ways with a distinct tone of voice. But to me, that voice sounds empty. I’m reading her book about a topic that I feel incredibly passionate about and yet I feel nothing. I don’t relate to the characters even though one of them has my name. I can’t get past the clinical nature of her language. It’s no-nonsense. It’s to the point. It’s got little to no punctuation – let alone punctuation play. It’s void of any emotion and the tamasha of life that you create when you play with words and punctuation. Mind you I’m on page 35 only. And maybe it gets better. But right now, it’s a hard mountain to climb – this coming from someone who tracked this book down and threatened more than one person to ensure it got to me in one piece, as soon as possible.
But I’ve got to cut her some slack first novels are always an experiment in tone and voice. And you know what, just because I’m not into straight shooting writing with little to no punctuation doesn’t mean that it sucks. Far. From. It. But then I think of Arundhati or Jhumpa and I’m back to my own sheltered belief of words being the brush you outline pictures with.
I wish I could close my eyes and start afresh.
And maybe that’s exactly what I need to do. Shut it out. And retry in a few weeks.
Maybe round 2 is where the magic meets the mind.
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.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
If it's meant to be...
It’s up to me.
don't mind the super random and way more optimistic than i feel quote of the day. if it's meant to be - it's actually not up to me. from 9 to 6pm - it's actually up to my boss. No really, my boss. At work. And after that my other other boss - also known as my husband takes over his shift. And on the weekends, my dad goes back to being the boss of me.
So really, it's rarely up to me :)
Although they are all quite good at letting me believe that I'm the boss of myself. Only when questioned though.
--::--
a little document-able tidbit that legitimizes what I’ve known all along: there is definitely a strand of crazy in my DNA.
So, I lied. Not just “off the cuff” lied but planned, plotted and schemed kinda lied. I did what every wife, jokes about doing but maybe thinks twice before pulling it off. In my case, I did think twice – as in, is this enough or should I add an extra sweater to the lot.
Yup, I did a little jcrewing online. In my defense, I was saving myself and my husband 20% as I gleefully took advantage of their final clearance sale. Hrmph. It would have been nice to be applauded for that. But instead, I got bated out by my own father.
So where did the lying happen? Well, I usually have all my things (mail and packages) delivered to my parents house – I never did get around to changing my addy especially since I always thought of our condo as being more of a temporary type of dwelling. Don’t ask me why – but in my logic – it made sense. Well dad decided to play a game of his own. And this is where you see the effects of a man who has lived thirty odd years in one house with four women. He has obviously picked up a thing or two about vengefully bating one out when he’s got his emotions and panties in a knot.
So dad bates me out. Mikey is surprised. Astonished actually. And I am not a happy or trusted camper. TheybasicallythinkISUCK. Now, the strange thing is that mikes is a big shopper just like myself – so I don’t really know why I lied. Knowing my husband, he would’ve just said: “Oh, that’s pretty – you should totally get it” and yet, I went ahead and lied about it.
I wonder what that says about me. Apart from the fact that in my old age, I’m becoming a pathological liar. My Dad would be so proud. I'm sure he'd say I inherited that from my mom's side of the gene pool.
And now, I’m off to trek through 20cms of once-fluffy-white-stuff to get to the streetcar, then subway, then car. Pray for me. Or even better, buy me a ticket to some tropical country. One way will do just fine, thanks.
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.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Baby proofed - or so I thought!
(words of warning: get ready for a long, rambling post minus any editing of any sort - this was written in between two morning meetings without any coffee!)
--
I’ve always been a fence sitter when it came to the topic of babies. I think that they can be incredibly adorable, wonderfully entertaining and such a joy in so many ways. Often to other people.
Because I’m a realist. I realize that I’ve also derived that same type of pleasure from many of my extra curricular activities – shopping, reading, hanging out with my friends, growing my career, nurturing my writing….i’m sure you catch the drift. I’ve never looked at a baby and thought to myself: Now, I’d like to take you home honey.
And in the past, when I have cooed those words to a newborn – it was born out of a feeling of obligation to fawn over someone’s “mini me”. Rather than a real indication of being baby ready or baby-friendly for that matter.
Meeting a newborn, in the past, was always quite the event for me. Sorta in the same vein as job interviews or awkward gatherings. I automatically fear the worst: what if this baby isn’t all that attractive?!?!
Now, I know – it seems silly and nobody with a child would ever agree with what I’m about to say but….. Not all kids are attractive as they bust out of the gates.
And that’s where it gets sticky. I’ve had “meh” looking kids thrust at me by friendly co-workers and acquaintances forcing me to fall back on my good ole faithful tactic of finding something nice to say: I love her booties or Aww, that’s a cute clip or the best, yellow is such a lovely colour on her…I mean him.
Pathetic much? Maybe. But heck, nobody wants to hear that somebody, ANYBODY, thinks their baby isn’t the type of stuff that America’s Next Top Model is made of. I was raised on a diet of "if you can't say something nice, make up something FAST"
Until I had a baby infiltrate my inner circle that is.
T, one of my oldest girlfriends and a habit that I can’t seem to shake, had her first one. I stayed away from her all through her pregnancy, creeped out by this phenomenon. I could barely commit to a hair colour let alone a baby – and that put her in a league of her own. That was five years ago – when I had just met Mikey and was starting to become okay with the idea of committing to one person.
Then I met her. That squishie exquisite smelling bundle we call Rakshaa. She is Ah.Mazing. In all the ways, that I never thought would matter.
I fell hopelessly in love with her chortle, her cheeks, her cheeky lil’ laugh, her chubby lil arms....*sigh*…and when she started saying my name – I could have sworn my heart sang. That girl, broke me down. These days, I’m a baby-loving but still largely, “baby proofed” version of my former self. I’m more comfortable with having kids crawl over me, around me, spit up on me, wreck my prized possessions, take a poo on me, throw up on me….you name it – I’ve endured it. So please, you can take me off the “national baby hater” list that I might have inadvertently gotten myself onto.
Before I met Mikes, I took pride in the knowledge that I wasn’t that into babies. It took a lot of explaining to all the wrong people who had one too many questions. It ranked up there with my: I don't believe in marriage and committing to one of anything - stance.
I liked babies just fine – but I always felt like my life would be full regardless of whether I had a little one pittering and pattering all over my Marc Jacobs or NOT (preferably option 2, thanks). I had other things in my life that I placed in high priority – my family, my friends,my career (that I love), traveling, impromptu events and excursions, the freedom of having a fun lifestyle - unencumbered by baby bags, strollers and the such. A life filled with individual passions, actualized.
Then I met Mikey.
Now Mikey, is one of those rare individuals (that I seem to meet more and more of as of late – a cultural shift perhaps?) who seem to have been born to be a parent. He’s just comfortable around kids and really relates to them in a visceral way. And has always known that he wanted his own.
Before we got married we had the big “b” talk. I agreed that while I didn’t necessarily need a child – I wouldn’t be averse to having one – at some point down the road. A year, five, ten…whose counting! So we got hitched with the knowledge that babies might make an appearance in our coupledom but they certainly weren’t an expectation.
When we got hitched, all our friends were also getting hitched. It was two years of 12 weddings a season – lots of dressing up, manning up and having a great time at one party or another. It was the remake of 27 dresses – aptly named 27 sari’s. But then something happened.
Our group of late twenty somethings who had vehemently held out against early marriages and the such – transformed. Our nights of debauchery have now turned into nights of discussing organic diapers, the role of a soother, the various degrees of spit up, sign language as a way of communicating with a new born etc. In the last two years, we’ve seen a flurry of baby making. Almost everyone I know, in their late twenties and early thirties just had one, is having one, is trying for one or praying every night for the miracle to happen – or some crazy combination of the above mentioned factors.
Gone are the times when they’d cross their fingers and hope it was just a scare! Gone are the days when they’d wait for their period as an indicator that nothing is baking in their ovens. The singular lines of focused prayer that would be chanted begging the powers that be – that next time they would be more careful had disappeared. Now they’ve been replaced with a flurry of disappointed phone calls when the bloody thing shows up – literally!
Mikes and I have been uninvolved in this chaotic hurricane – we’ve somehow managed to stay largely unaffected by the frenzy of shagging with an ulterior motive. Or so I thought.
Afterall we had some major issues to contend with - first.
Everyone who knows me knows that I’m too sweet. Having a baby with uncontrolled diabetes – is not a recommended plan of action. So in the hopes of getting baby ready – I hopped off the “it’s all about me – all the time” bandwagon and started taking those darn insulin shots. Which is good – because at thirty one, apparently my window of opportunity for a healthy and pain-free pregnancy is small and rapidly shrinking.
Mikes and I agreed that we’d start trying (and by that I mean, stop using contraceptives not setting up baby calendars and temperature checks) in June of this year. We figure, it’s apt – 2 years of coupledom have helped us create what is now a much more solid relationship. This April, we turn 6 - which is a pretty good run of great times.
Now, this agreement happened with Jana – still being on the fence about a needing a child to find ultimate fulfillment. We’ve talked about adoption and we know that if we have a little person – we’d definitely want more than one. Which is a concern with my saccharine sweet ailment. So adoption might play a role in our lives as well.
But something happened yesterday.
Yesterday, my very pregger sister in law, was complaining about the cost of having a child – financially, physically, emotionally etc. And she and my mother in law, were discussing all things baby related. And that’s when it happened. That’s when I felt it. My heart inhaled mid sentence and firmly lodged the thought of babies, rompers, cribs and such somewhere on my radar.
I’ve never felt that chord struck, quite so intensely before. For the first time, I had a familiar thought about a completely unfamiliar item.
“I wish I could have that too”. “I wish it were me”.
WHAT?!!?!? I know. I’ve said that about a gazillion things before – all material, all tangible, all envy inducing. But a baby?!?!? For the first time EVER, I felt like I was ready to maybe seriously consider adding a third person to our marriage.
And yes, I am that childish.
I know that there have been tons of moments where I’ve relished being Mikey’s best love. And I know that babies would change that completely. I’ve been told you end up loving them in ways that you didn’t even realize you could. And a small part of me fears that. It unnerves me, this thought of adding a third person into our marriage. An unpredictable character – who can be a pleasure or a nightmare or both. A factor that we won’t be able to control – and one that will change our relationship forever. Hopefully for the better - but I've heard stories from both camps. And chances, are not to be taken.
I firmly believe in having a rock solid boat before inviting strangers onboard. I always thought that I would be happy being “aunty jana” and just that – just aunty. And you know what, I still would be – because who knows, what other complications might exist. But I woke up this morning with a strong need for a verbal throw up session and it was coincidental that a fellow flogette, felt the same way. Mind you, her's was much more succint.
For the first time, I wanted a baby. And that is such a heady realization. It kinda feels like the first moment when I realized I loved mikey – ages before I got the bling that promised other things.
So I know – that when it happens – I will be thrilled. And I know, that even if it doesn’t – the journey and the progress is not so much in having a baby per say – but finally arriving at the destination my husband has been in for at least two years, if not more. It’s nice to finally feel like we are on the same page. And it’s knowing – that if and when it happens – I’ll be ready to embrace the next phase and turn that next page with excitement – as opposed to impending doom.
I plan on having it all. I plan on doing all the things I do now with just an extra addition. I know it will probably be a little more work - but I refuse to think that my life has to stop and alter for that third factor to be integrated. I'm sure some things will alter themselves - we'll find better and easier ways of doing others - but the spirit of our relationship will not change. (she said, pre-baby and pre-spittle cloths)
But heck, until then, I plan on working to keep my blood sugar just right and taking every opportunity I can to continue having as much fun as possible. Because when it happens, it will happen only because we want it to.
And not because, I feel like the slow kid who is constantly a few steps behind the rest of the pack – because I know that’s just silly talk! But a little part of my brain, is still there. left behind - questioning why it always takes her much longer to catch up to the rest of the crew when it comes to matters of the heart.
--
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.
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