It’s annual physical inventory (just after fiscal year-end), and I have time for work, sleep, eat and laying on my back watching reruns of Modern Family trying not to drool on the couch. Not much else (and sometimes not even those).
So I am not up to date right now – and won’t be for another week. Forgive me – my husband has.
I’ll be back consistently at the end of next week!
There is a time each year when you roll your car windows down for the first time. When warmed air can finally compensate from your self-made wind. Mine came on Friday, driving home from work about 5:30. The sun is lower in the sky at that point, and the sunlight glanced off my window and window scratches.
As I neared Commercial and Powell, I longed for the freedom felt when my hair whips around my face, and I turn my stereo down lest someone hears my woefully out of date iPod.
I crossed under the overpass into a flock of migrating dandelion seeds lazily floating to the next unsuspecting lawn. But churned and danced through my car and reflected the light.
May 24th, 2013 Extra-Ordinary: I don’t care what you say, Summer is upon us.
It was my friend Lisa’s 40th birthday on May 21st and she asked me and some other friends to join her at Tigh-na-Mara in Parksville. Well, that is kinda true – she asked me what I thought – should we go to Montreal, Las Vegas, a West Coast spa or camping in Golden. I mean, really? What? One of things is not like the other ones! Golden is nice, yes, but camping? Camping is a pain – you have to haul in a whole bunch of stuff to try and make it feel more like home, get a lousy sleep because your poor hip doesn’t have the cushioning it needs on the hard ground, and stay dirty. Why would you do anything of these things?
Yes, I am not a camper. So, I was relieved when the consensus going to a spa resort for a couple of days. We started off well with a wonderful ferry ride up to Nanaimo from Horseshoe Bay. A peaceful crossing full of possibilities – so I know I am going somewhere. The four of us all met up around 5 pm at the resort and immediately the wine started flowing. The sun was dropping in the sky so a walk on the beach was in order.
I then invented a new photography technique that I call “blind photography”. I am sure many smart photo users have engaged in this activity unknowingly. It’s when you try to take pictures with your phone despite standing directly in sunlight. You have no idea what you’ve snapped – the horizon could be crooked, the focus out of whack – you just do not know. Here is one of my best:
The rest of the night is a little fuzzy.
The next morning, I got up and ran. Yes, despite the wine and the early morning wake-up from the skylight, I run through the trails of Parksville before breakfast and a spa day. I think it was to assuage the guilt I felt knowing I’d be missing work during a really busy phase. Directly after breakfast it was to the spa. At this spa, there is rules, you must where a robe at all times. I got a pedicure, Lisa got a facial and we met our friends for Endless Tapas. Endless Tapas? What is that? Well, you pay $50 and they bring you tapas until you cannot eat any longer. If you liked something particular, you order more – no charge. This is dangerous when all your tight-fitting clothing is in the locker downstairs and all you have a loose hide-it-away robe expanding with you.
There was no wine that night.
The next day we got more spa treatments and then combed the beaches. And I mean it, we combed the beaches. We were looking for glass rocks on 5 different beaches in Parksville. Frankly, I think Lisa thought the world owed her something for her birthday. So we searched and searched. But to no avail.
We made arrangements with the resort for a “fire kit” – which un-kittingly was one item – and marshmallow roasting sticks. When it got dark, a fire on the beach complete with s’mores was planned. We finally dragged our spa-ed bodies out the front door to find it was pouring rain. We wanted s’mores, but we were not that dedicated or skilled to be able to do it in the pouring rain. Fortunately, I knew an option. So munching on s’mores and watching So You Think You Can Dance, we wiled the rest of the night away.
May 19 -22, 2013 Extra-Ordinary: Time a way “on the island” with a friend who shared my formative years at university.
I remember watching Star Wars: The Empire Strikes back with my dad at the drive-in theatre. I remember very little except when Luke had his hand cut off. (um, spoiler alert). It was pretty horrifying for me. But then he had a hand again – it looked good as new and I was wholly confused. Afterall, I had watched my PSA on TV and thought this was not the case.
But Dad was a science fiction fan. He loved Star Wars, Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury and Star Trek. The terrifying hand removal not withstanding, I too began to enjoy science fiction, reading his old books and watching his old shows. Some I just didn’t get. Some I just didn’t like. But Star Trek – I got. I got it a lot. And after many years of reflection, I think that I gravitated to it because it was a vision of what could be, what we coud strive towards – the end of hunger, poverty and world wars. The end of a planet destruction, the beginning of a joined life. Not free from problems and struggles, but better than now. Much of other science fiction features post-apocalypse worlds, worst than today, terror, horrible things have happened.
So, I watched the old Star Trek episodes and enjoyed the stories. Watched them again when I was older and better understood and recognized the social commentary. And watched with my brother when Star Trek: The Next Generation came out. Celebrated a move forward with a female captain on Voyager. Would they get home!? And then Enterprise, trying to stem delight when they decided they should come up with an “Alert System”. And of course all the movies in between – some terrible, some okay.
I had planned to attend opening night for this second reboot movie, but I had other plans. Instead, I was there Saturday night. I’d read nothing – purposely avoided trailers, didn’t check reviews – I wanted to save it all for the movie. And I am glad I did.
All in all – I loved it. The ONLY complaint I have is the need in action/adventure movies to at some point have the hero hanging by their finger tips. Then somehow, they let go with one hand and catch a person falling by to save them too. Then someone cames along and hauls them both up.
Please find me a person that can catch 200 pounds in one hand while holding their weight with their finger tips. Not to mention, this usually occurs right after a fight which I have to assume their hand is either sweaty, bloody or both. And if you can find such a person, then find me a different person who can pull 400 pounds of dead weight up onto a platform while no one in the dangling chain of people lets go. I cannot suspense my disbelief on these scenes anymore. Build railings and floors people!
So, if that is my biggest complaint, I can live with it. Absolutely loving this new series – geek, yes, I suppose.
May 18th, 2013 Extra-Ordinary: Star Trek: Into Darkness
Tonight Emile and I attended an underground dinner party. As you’ll recall, the one we signed up for was a social one, meaning nobody there (aside from if you signed up with a friend) knew each other. There were nine attendees in total:
All people from varied and different backgrounds that shared a common goal – to meet new people and experience something a little different.
A couple days before the event, we were emailed the location details – which until then were just known as “Gastown”. It was held in an apartment featuring art from local artists and where the host lived.
Dinner was fantastic – pulled pork & guacamole appies and then followed by corn & bacon chowder, lemongrass chicken, roasted cauliflower with whipped goat cheese, smashed potatoes, walnut sweet beet salad, and ribboned spicy carrots. I think I covered everything. Dessert was sweet buttermilk cream with rhubarb strawberry topping. It was family style so it really felt like a group of friends together for a meal. Everyone brought wine to have with dinner.
Kristen, the host, was quietly in the background taking care of all the details, cooking in her personal kitchen, and serving us. Helping the conversation roll when there was quiet moments – though there were very few.
What I liked about the evening is how I felt – inside the pulse of Vancouver, trying something different. Someone who knows the hip spots, the places to the be.
So try it, you’ll be happy you did.
May 17th, 2013 Extra-Ordinary: In the heart of it all, in Vancouver.
Returning to the island this weekend after 10+ years! So excited!
May 16th, 2013 Extra-Ordinary: . Lakes don’t make these lines, only Oceans on sandy beaches on Vancouver Island:
When I was a teenager, I lived in a ski town. Most of my friends or friends’ friends were accomplished skiers who could easily navigate an icy slope, expertly sweep through deep powder or carve a beauty line down steep moguls. I on the other hand, could do none of those things.
They mocked me mercilessly. Well, not really, but when you lack the knowledge and the skill – ski conversations get a little exclusive – with me on the outside.
My family did not ski – so my brother and I didn’t get strapped in when i was a baby and thrown down a hill. We both skied with friends and in school programs but when You don’t have a season pass or your own equipment, it makes it more of a costly ordeal. I also have an innate sense of body safety so lacked the drive to really charge a hill.
My friends all owned their own equipment and apparel – from all “the” brands – rossingnal, spyder, Helly Hanson, etc that I did not. And after a while I began to believe that this was important I did not – these are brands that I hadn’t earned yet. I could ski – make it down a ski hill, yes – but I was not a skier.
So – I had good quality jackets, boots and gloves that were more suited to general warmth and than anything for a specific purpose.
To this day, I lack snow pants or ski gloves, goggles, helmet (they make people where these for skiing nowadays…weird), and all the stuff needed for a fun day at the slopes. I am not a skier – just someone that could ski if called upon to do so.
I walked down Granville on Saturday doing mostly window shopping, and some browsing. I was kinda looking for a couple of things, but not intently. I wandered into stores looking, fingering, and enjoying a leisurely stroll down the shopping district.
I found myself in a store with the mos perfect long sleeve – yet aired out running shirt. Pink highlights that matched my shoes, long enough to not ride up and with a half zip. Will it fit, will it make me feel how I want to feel? It was full price – and I hate paying retail – but I tried it anyways.
And it did fit, I loved the feel, the fit and at that point I could care less about the price!
I happily picked up my purchase – fought the urge to announce to the clerk “I am a runner”- and walked out with a little more brisk pace.
May 15th Extra-Ordinary: The long way around but I finally I too have what I thought I wanted then. But I earned it:
My brother is very much like my parents and in some ways like me, but mostly just like him. He is particular, careful, precise, fastidious, and a planner. He thinks that I am sloppy, careless, chaotic and something like a hurricane or tornado. Those who know me and don’t know him do not understand how someone as plan focused and organized could be considered any of these things. But I must tell you, in comparison it is true. If you want something done exactly and painstaking correctly and carefully, you ask my brother. If you want it taken care of on a well thought out and exacting plan, ask my brother. If you have multiple competing deadlines, chaotic frenzy that needs sorting and a plan for just getting through – you ask me. And don’t complain about the state of my desk in the meantime.
I tell you this because it was my brother Todd who spent hours vacuuming my car when the window was smashed. He spent a lot of time picking out the glass, moving the seats around for better angles and looking for the shining bits. I was thinking “C’mon already, that is enough! Let’s go!” – too much energy was already spent on this smash and grab.
But he persisted. And yet over the last couple of months, I find this every now and then:
I show you this, not because I want to say a careful man did a bad job, but to show how it is impossible to get all the bits of glass out of a car. If the world’s best can’t get it all, nobody can.
May 14th, 2013 Extra-Ordinary: Sparkling memories which are not all together welcome.
I have never really been a plant lover. Plants are mysterious, dirty and annoying to me. Don’t get me wrong, I get sucked in grocery store forced blooms as much as the next person. And I will buy. And proceed to either smother with love or neglect to death. My mother-in-law used to bring me plants all the time. She figured out – or I guess will know for sure now – that I kill plants. I used to try to replace the plant that I killed before she came to visit, but then she – being a plant person – seemed to recognize that this was a new version. I guess they aren’t all the same.
I tend to get gifts of food from her now.
For Easter, she sent us an Easter lily, of whose care was firmly within Emile’s hands. I just looked at it – from afar mind – and enjoyed, but all care was in his hands. Near the end of its life, Emile put it outside on our balcony to get it some fresh air and sunlight. It was promptly eaten by a pigeon.
Now that is not something you see every day. Then Emile “taught it a lesson” with a squirt bottle again.
Anyways, I also don’t like plants because they get dusty, leave water/dirt marks and I don’t have the patience for cleaning up. I especially hate fake plants and flowers because as much as they don’t require care – that is exactly the problem. They are left to get dusty and dirty and to fade in the sun while nobody pays any attention. And they don’t even provide oxygen for us non-plants. Horrible.
Now that I am comfortable at work – yet can still claim that I am “new” kinda, I just do things. Like take the credenza out of the boardroom so you can actually get around the conference table, or throw things out that we don’t need. And recently I decided the faded, dusty and spider infested fake plants (I’m sure) in our lobby needed to mysteriously disappear. And they did.
Late one night they vanished into a holding area to see if anyone needed them. Ahem. Nobody needed them, but people have strange attachments to strange things.
A couple of days passed and otherwise than some comments of “Hey, it’s brighter in here” nobody really noticed. So, into the dumpster they went.
Until the large team meeting when the president recognized the missing “plants” and said he’d solved the mystery of where they had disappeared to. And then he turned to blame my boss.
What did I do? Step up and say “I cannot tell a lie. It was me.”? Well, no. I made no eye contact, I just looked surprised, turned my head towards the missing plant section like everyone else and blended into the crowd. “That’s so weird. I wonder what happened to them?!?”
May 13, 2013 Extra-Ordinary: The president and team clapped about the missing plants. Phew. . .could have been a career limiting move there. . . where is my integrity?
Plastic Plant free. . . and we all feel better.
I visited a walk-in clinic this weekend to renew a prescription. I found a couple of them downtown that were open on Saturdays. I went to the one that advertised on their website to that they were open at 9:30 am, so I started with that one. What is it with websites these days – update them if your info changes. That is the point of a website – remember the printed word? How expensive and painful it was to change? Turns out that particular clinic was not open at all on Saturdays. So, I walked up to Yaletown – which seems to be my primary location for all things self maintenance – to find another clinic that opened at 10 am. I got there 25 minutes early and found no-one outside, so headed up to a coffee shop to get a waiting tea. I was back at 9:45 am sitting on the stoop out front. While I waited, several other patients arrived to wait.
There was one man with a cast on his leg. And another family with small children. I edged closer to the door so as to ensure that these interlopers – no matter how needy they might look in comparison to me – could not squirm in front of me.
When the door was unlocked – 5 minutes early – I casually leapt in front of the others. Bad leg? I don’t care. Screaming kid? No my problem. You look pretty healthy buddy, you can wait. (the irony of my healthy look is lost on me).
May 12th, 2013 Extra-Ordinary: First in, First on the list, and yet I didn’t see a doctor until 10:20 am.
The Daily EO 