November 28th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: It’s a toss-up between Utah landscape, the fact that I took this picture through a hotel window with a cell phone while on a treadmill (with no post processing)l or that I was on a treadmill at dawn while on a business trip. You choose.
I spent most of the morning worrying about the number of pairs of shoes to bring. And how long it would take me to walk to the Skytrain. And did I have my passport. And how casually should I dress for the flights? I am travelling with senior members of team afterall.
I am travelling to Utah for work, and I am more worried about the stupid things than anything at all important. Should I take a snack? Will I take a travel mug? Where should I put my business cards?
Have I packed my passport? The flight leaves at 1 pm, right?
I’m excited to travel to Utah – I am catching up to Emile.
When I am actually on the plane, I start to finally relax a little bit – except for the germy, phlegmy old man sitting beside me. I don’t want your germs. I’m leaning into the aisle.
Why am I going to Utah? Does it matter? Something about wooing a new customer or something.
Where’s my passport?
November 27th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: Minutiae distracting me from what’s really important.
I have started reading my friend’s blog. Well not so much that I started reading it as she started publishing it. It reminds me of why I started blogging in the first place. It feels like a therapist and a true friend all in one. She is trying to figure out some things and so writing and exploring through her blog.
When you write things done you process them. When you feelings are on the page there is no denying them. And it connects you with the world even if tenuous.
When you’re going through things, any connection matters. It is healing, it is positive and it is good.
November 25th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: To all the bloggers out there who are writing to find – and keep on – their path, I am one of you. Keeping stretching. Keep writing.
Www.screaminglisa.com
The sun shone brightly and for those uninitiated, you would be led to believe that the day was warm and fair. It was not, but it was a beautiful day. And we live 3.5 kms from Stanley Park – Vancouver’s glorious 1000 acre park almost in the heart of the city.
I arose at 7:30, changed into weather thoughtful exercise clothes and waited impatiently for Emile to drag himself out of bed. At 10, I announced with a flourish it was time to go – outside and the sunshine awaited us. He too wore his warm clothes and we set-out. We stuck to the North sides of the street that seemed to have a little more sun and kept our pace quick and brisk.
I was excited to visit the park, though I haven’t been there in probably 20 years. But vague memories crept upon me as I viewed familiar landscapes and the totem poles. We walked quickly, and then as we got to the seawall in Stanley Park, we ran. And we talked and we ran some more. We caught about Emile’s work, and my worries about my department at work, and Christmas and our plans for December and our upcoming vacation.
It was only by noon that I told Emile I was at the hungry stage and moving towards starving that we decided to make our way home. Emile knows that this is where the danger zone begins.
Breakfast was at “The Chef and the Baker” just around the corner from our place – casual enough to accept unshowered people in workout gear, but also nice enough to serve loose chai tea.
Aaaah.
November 25th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: A visit to Lord Stanley’s Park and a feeling of contentment and well being.
My husband told me he went for lunch at Taco del Mar on Friday.
I said “The one on Granville?” (picturing it in my mind)
He said, “Yeah”
I smiled.
November 24th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: I am getting to know some of the pockets of this city.
We have 3 elevators in our building. Coming through the lobby I found a line about 20 people waiting for the elevator. Turns out, 1 was in service for someone moving out and the other had broken down. Leaving one – albeit high-speed – elevator for a building with 43 floors. Our building is very secure, many of the floors cannot be accessed by the stairs. I live on the 41st floor and I can access my floor from the stairs.
The longer I stood in line waiting the elevator, the more I felt guilty for not taking the opportunity for a workout. But I had been out and about all day already probably walked 15 kms. I didn’t want to take the stairs – and the shower that I’d need afterwards.
So I stood there. And listened to each new person who joined the queue to ask what was going on. The poor concierge was beside himself trying to appear like he was doing something, but of course, there was nothing for him to do, other than opening the door for the stairs for those of us who were not lazy (and could access their floor).
One of the residents was standing in the lobby with his Dominos pizza order – including cheese bread – and the smell wafted out to hungry people who were just trying to get home. The elevator arrived and a bunch of people piled on to it. When the elevator left without taking everyone in the lobby, the mood shifted suddenly and what was truly only a minor inconvenience began to stretch into a major problem. People had places to go, things to get to and they wanted to go home.
At one point, the in service elevator stopped on the ground floor by accident. The poor sap who was moving – with an elevator of his things – had to stand and stare at us for 10 seconds while the door remained open. He smiled, half shrugged and then casually hammered on the close door button.
Another 10 minutes of waiting and finally the elevator returned to the lobby level – but this time carrying one man destined for the parking garage – it was going down. But nobody was willing to let the elevator journey on without them and jumped on. I was about 5th in line and as I saw people filling it up, decided that I too needed to get on this elevator.
In a span of about 5 seconds, 15 different floors were pressed and the system couldn’t handle the inputs and reset. But it started moving and we were on the 5th floor before anyone noticed what had happened. For those of us on the upper floors, it didn’t matter, we just simply repressed our buttons.
But for the girl who lived on the second floor, the gentleman (I used that term loosely) who was trying to get to the basement and a visitor who didn’t have scan access to get where we was going.. . . . They started to lose their minds.
Second Floor Girl says “I hate everything and everyone”
Garage Guy says “All you people f*cked me!!”
Visitor Girl says “Please press 18! 18? Anyone on the 18th floor?? TRY 18!!”
And it went downhill from there. Second floor girl starts telling off garage guy. And everyone in a full elevator is trying to help out need hysterical visitor girl, but none of us have access to that floor.
Garage Guy “All of you people need to consider your actions on others. You f*cked me. All of you”
Second Floor Girl “None of us did it on purpose!! Do you think we wanted this to happen? I’m trying to get to the 2nd floor!”
Garage guy “Whatever. You need to wait. This is crap. You need to consider your actions.”
Visitor Girl “Oh my god! What am I going to do? Can I get off somewhere?”
The rest of us: Do not make eye contact, do not speak.
Hurry, hurry, elevator.
November 23rd, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: We are only 30 minutes away from Lord of the Flies, people. Lord of the Flies with only 1 large pizza and cheesy bread to share amongst.
Although 41 isn’t generally a milestone birthday – I suppose it can be considering putting your little toe into the next decade – I really did little for my husband’s birthday this year. Instead, I went to grade school with someone who then married someone who ended up with all the heavy lifting.
She made the mistake of asking what Emile’s favorite dinner was. I told her lasagna or turkey dinner but that he’d be happy just being with them for his birthday. But – never one to take the easy way out – Alison made turkey dinner with all the sides: mashed potatoes, baked spinach, cranberry sauce, gravy, stuffing, broccoli, corn, sweet potatoes, green beans, salad and a 3 layer chocolate cake with Nutella and jam filling. On a Thursday with 3 kids under the age of 8.
I helped by dropping by a bag of Oreos for Alison and kids to decorate the cake with.
November 22nd, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: Kindness and Generosity to make Emile’s first birthday living in BC fun and special.
We were supposed to have a healthy stir fry tonight. Complete with riced cauliflower instead of rice. I had tofu marinating in the fridge and chicken in the freezer. But the first time in my life, I came home and realized that I actually really did have stale french bread on the counter. If I had stale french bread, I really was almost done french toast.
So, no chopping of vegetables, no grating of cauliflower. It was a milk bath and then creamy delicious french toast with real maple syrup. Alas, no given maple syrup, but store bought, but the real thing nonetheless.
November 21st, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: French Toast Wednesday. sigh of contentment . .
I was in Yorkdale mall about 6 1/2 years ago with my best friend Lisa (www.screaminglisa.com). She had come east to Ontario for my wedding shower – she was my maid of honour – and we were doing a bit of shopping. Neither of us – and I hope she’ll forgive me saying so – are fashion mavens nor do either of us fit into size 4 jeans or size 8 for that matter.
We spend some of our time mocking those who are fashion forward types and worried about being cool for the sake of being cool. So when she saw someone who was wearing these absolutely brand new trend of “skinny jeans”, she pointed them out and said “I think they make even super skinny people look fat”. I agreed with her because frankly, I was busy walking around in my mid 2000s jeans with a low rise waist with boot cut. I mean, she was right, they didn’t look particularly flattering. We wanted to hide the body – not show it off.
But here I am nowadays with probably about 6 pairs of skinny jeans/pants AND a pair of GLO-E-US riding boots. I don’t know, perhaps there people in malls saying my skinny pants make me look fat. Hmmm.
Regardless, I am not 20 any more, I don’t really care about what some yahoos might think, but I do like the trend of skinny pants. Why? Because skinny pants show your shape – from your wide hips to your thin calves – and I like that. There are a pant that just tell it like it is. They call a spade a spade. So by pushing them on us, the fashion world is saying “Bring us your hips people! We want to see some curves. Or no curves. We don’t care! Just show us what you’ve got!”
That’s good. Because “not fashion” bodies is what most of us have.
November 20th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: Yep, I’ve got hips, and a waist and that is just fine with me.
One year ago Emile and I were in Grenada to celebrate his 40th birthday. He didn’t know about the trip – I managed to pay for it with my tips. 6 good friends came along and we had a great time staying in our rented villa and soaking up the sun. Emile didn’t really know what was going on until we pulled into the airport and got in line for at Caribbean Airlines. Even then, he couldn’t quite absorb that we were on this vacation and that I had pulled the whole thing off with him being completely unaware of anything.
I loved organizing the trip for us, but I fell into a habit of watching everything I said around him. It got to be second nature to hesitate before I spoke, to keep my thoughts to myself and lie to Emile. It took me a bit of time to get back to normal where I share almost all of my thoughts with him freely again. The simple pleasure of speaking to one who gets me and doesn’t ever judge.
We aren’t doing anything spectacular for his birthday this year, but we are full up on spectacular right now. But yet. . .
November 19th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: 4 more boxes unpacked and put away. And perhaps Sayulita next . .
The Daily EO 