one, two, three...a million!

Tonight was the dreaded annual inventory - the day where we count everything in the big blue box.Yes, it really is as boring as it sounds.

It makes me think back to when I was younger and would make up silly little games like counting contests with my sister. We'd count "one, two, three...a million!" only it dounded more like "onetwothreeabillion!" because we thought it was a race to see who could count the fastest. Stupid children. Of course, our counts were never accurate, because really, at six, what do you have a billion of? On the same token, at 24, what do you have a billion of? If only the answer was 'dollar bills' I would be one happy man.

Anyway, back to the counts. I was assigned to blinds and cushions, so before inventory started, i spent a few hours preparing my area - making sure stray products were returned to their homes and everything was in place. I even went as far as to colour code the bins full of throw cushions, since each colour has a separate code and needed to be counted separately. When we finally got to the counting part of the evening, I realized that I would be doing cushions and kitchen & dining textiles. Crap! All that colour coding for nothing! Well, whatever helps my fellow counters...

So, for the actual counting, the process is this: each counter gets paired up with someone from the temp agency. the temp's responsibility is to record all the counts, but not participate in the counting. Well, lucky me! My temp loved counting, and would re-count everything taht I had just counted, like he didn't believe me or something. I wanted to shake him by the shoulders and tell him to stop, but I had to be polite. Why? The usual sarcastic me would have made some cutting offhand comment or spoken tersely to him, but unfortunately, by luck of the draw, my temp turned out to be a friend of my dad's. *sigh* Mind you, I barely know the guy, but how do you be mean to someone like that?

Anyway, thankfully the worst is over. Now I have less than four hours of sleep before I have to wake up and drive back in to the office. I really should have just camped out overnight in my office. While Mo and I had initially planned to do so (as evidenced by her purse full of CDs to keep up entertained throughout the wee hours of the morning), our senses kicked in and we decided to head to our respective homes and attempt to get some sleep instead.

A wise move indeed. Although I really should be in bed rather than in front of my computer writing this blog entry.

freedom

After two weeks of searching for an 'on' button for my intern, it's finally over! We finally said goodbye this afternoon. Thank goodness for small mercies.

Today's escapades included a display of belly-button-lint-picking (i'm so not kidding!), but I didn't care. All I cared about was that it was his last day.

Now comes the task of writing a reference letter... *sigh*

those things'll kill ya

Attended the premiere screening of Coffee & Cigarettes with two friends. With an impressive cast that includes the likes of Bill Murray, Cate Blanchett, Jack and Meg Black, Roberto Benigni, Steve Buscemi, Iggy Pop, and Tom Waits, among others, the movie didn't disaapoint. Shot entirely in black and white over the course of two years, the movie portrayed several vignettes in a variety of different coffee shops. Keep an eye out for the checkered pattern that manifests itself in various forms throughout the movie.

I loved Bill Murray's vignette, Delirium, as well as Alfred Molina and Steve Coogan's, Cousins?, but my favorite was the last one.

champagne
Two wrinkled older men on a coffee break banter about Paris in the 1920s and the music of Mahler. One wants to pretend that the coffee they are sipping is champagne, in order to celebrate life - the way that elegant people do. Dreams and pragmatism, the darkness of a brick-faced back room, the swirling of cigarette smoke in the air, the comfortable banter of two friends and colleagues grown accustomed to each other over years of coffee breaks together...beauty in simplicity.

when i grow up...i wanna have a perpetual hangover

I've been reading Po Bronson's "What Should I Do With My Life?" recently. I actually bought it several months ago, after reading an excerpt in Fast Company. However, it's been sitting in the bookshelf beside my bed since I picked it up. Somehow it seems more okay to read self-help stuff in magazines...there's a little bit of stigma attached (most likely self-imposed) to going to the bookstore, shelling out heard-earned cash to buy the book, and then reading it in its entirety. Reading a self-help book is like an admission that I need professional help beyond what Oprah and Dr. Phil can offer me via the airwaves. (And perhaps I do, but that's a discussion for another day.)

Nonetheless, I decided to dig in this weekend, and am surprisingly enjoying it. It's a collection of true stotries - accounts of 'people who answered the Ultimate Question.' (As quoted from the book jacket.) So far I've read about people who've changed paths, re-evaluated career choices, switched perspectives on their jobs, etc. It's all very inspirational and such, but so far, I'm not getting any answers as to what I should be doing with my life.

Dammit Po! I spent $22.95 on your book (not including taxes)! I want answers! I deserve answers!

On a slightly different note, my intern came in this morning and asked me if it was possible for a hangover to last two days. (!!!)

First of all, I'm totally the wrong person to ask. One Corona and I'm as red as a lobster. I draw the line when too much alcohol interferes with my complexion...gag!

Secondly, could he try any harder to impress me?!?

"Dude, I'm still, like, totally buzzed, and there's, like, a serious ringing in my ears, so I'm just gonna lay my head down on the table for a bit, okay? Wake me if you need me to do, like, something important, okay?"

I debated whether or not to take a more active, tough-love/coaching/mentoring role with him, but have decided that he's beyond my grasp...or patience level. I'm sure someone, somewhere will benefit from employing him in the distant future. For now, I'm simply going to make use of him somewhat by making him my laminating bitch.

Four more days...and counting...

talar du svenska?

Phase two of my induction into the big blue and yellow cult has begun.

On a whim, I decided to learn how to speak Swedish. Seeing as how I'm already being forced to learn all the Swedish furniture names, I figured that I should at least learn how to pronounce the properly. BILLY, IVAR, and STEN are the easy ones. Once you get to the ones that are multisyllabic and have silly little accents above the vowels, things start to get a little more tricky. (Those darned umlauts!)

I went to the public library yesterday to get one of those book + cassette combos and luckily, they had one on the shelf. Brought it home and popped in the tape, and it's got some pretty funked out feedback happening. Probably from the tape being played over-and-over again. Apparently, droves of people before me have suffered the urge to pick up this whacked-out sing-song language. I wonder if the tape gets clearer as the lessons progress - a sign that my predecessors lost interest. I'm tempted to drop out myself.

Let's see how long this lasts...

snail's pace

Finally...the end of my intern's first week. Luckily, it's only a two week internship. Already, he's managed to show up half an hour late every day, break the wheels off my tool cart (and leave it abandoned in another room), and loose a step ladder. And to top it off, it took him three whole days to paint a single wall! Mind you, it was red, and that requires primer and a few coats of paint, but it's not a big wall...seriously!

He's a good kid, but his pace is just so painfully slovenly. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm doing it as a favour to his mom, my former boss. (Which coincidentally, makes for some other weird dynamics.)

Thankfully next week is a short week due to the upcoming long weekend!

i’ve been busy

If eating cheesecake and popscicles for dinner and spending the rest of the evening flipping between watching would-be karaoke lounge singers duke it out with the utterly fabulous Fantasia Barrino on yet another round of American Idol and Shows-I-Taped-On-My-VCR-While-I-Was-In-Toronto, and then collapsing into a dopey sleep on top of my as-yet half-unpacked luggage makes you any less of a human being, I don’t want to hear about it.

oy!

First day back at work and i already feel like i need another vacation.

adventures in hogtown

Just returned from my trip to Toronto. Part business, part pleasure, the week away was a much needed getaway from the everyday routine that I'd established at home. I didn't have regular access to the internet while I was away, so I wasn't able to update the blog. Here's a run-down of the trip. Have a seat, you'll be reading for a while...

>> sunday
Flew out to YYZ from YVR. Got my carry-on luggage torn apart and searched. Did they think that an innocent looking face like me would smuggle drugs or bring weapons aboard the plane? I know that they were just doing their job, keeping the nation safe, yadda, yadda...but I couldn't help but feel somewhat violated when the customs guy started running his hands over my underpants. The ones that I had packed in my suitcase - not the ones I was wearing. That would have made me REALLY uncomfortable!

Bumped into the big cheese at the departure gates. Turns out we were sharing the same flight. Luckily, I had changed my seat assignment when i checked in earlier...otherwise I would have been sitting next to him. I can just picture my eyes popping out of their sockets from rolling them the whole flight over! Thank God for small mercies!

Arrived at Pearson International Airport and checked out the snazzy new terminal. The architechture, fixtures, and wayfinding system were state of the art, and quite beautiful. I remember seeing pictures of it while flipping through the pages of AZURE or some such magazine a while ago, but seeing it in person amazed me.

After picking up my rental car (a shiny new maroon Chevrolet Cavalier), I drove to the hotel to check in. Once I got to my room, I called Mo and Kevin and we went out for dinner. We planned to head over to Rocco's, but completely forgot that it was Mother's Day and neglected to make reservations. Seeing the line-up outside the door, we balked and decided to drive east along Queen street to see if there were any other places where we could satisfy our hunger. Finally found a Japanese restaurant with plenty of tables available and settled in for our meal.

>> monday
Day 1 of the workshop: Never have I seen so many graphics people together in one room. The excitment was about to begin! We started out by introducing ourselves and moved into the age old tradition of signwriting using Fasty (a.k.a. IKEA Script). After the marker fumes subsided a bit, we got to see who the real superstars were - certainly not me! I felt like a kid in kindergarten first learning how to write. Thank goodness for the computer age. If the job still relied on marker handling skills, I would be out on my ass so fast!

We did a bunch of other stuff, but none of it is exciting except to geeky graphics people like me, so I won't mention it here.

In the evening, we all headed out to The Drake Hotel, a snazzy place on Queen Street West which has recently undergone a facelift, and now houses a boozin' pimpin' bar, an apparently kick-ass sushi bar, and swingin' lounge with an ecclectic mix of furnishings on the main floor, a classic tavern bar and improv club in the underground...and of course, a hotel on the upper floors. The most intruiging thing about the place, however, is not the strangely beautiful mix of mismatched art and interiors, but the collection of people that gather there. it's a place where struggling artists, established artists, art collectors and patrons, true bohemians and poseurs alike convene to sip on their beverages of choice.

Catching the improv soap opera "Drake 55" itself down in the underground was worth a whole evening's entertainment.

>> tuesday
Day 2 of the workshop: Everything you ever wanted to know about large format printing but were afraid to ask...or try for yourself. After the previous evening's festivities, it proved difficult to keep the eyelids propped up, especially in a dark conference room. The session, however was valuable, and keeping awake was made easier when we moved into the graphics room with natural sunlight flooding in through the windows.

After taking photos and saying goodbyes, Kevin and I drove Mo and Kathy to the airport. Along the way, we crossed paths with the gang from Montreal who were starting their five hour drive back home. At times during the workshops, I envied the rapport that those guys had with each other...then I remembered J and K back home with whom I have a similar relationship, and it made me miss them all the more.

Everyone else on their way home, Johan, Kevin and I were the only ones left at the hotel. Johan had meetings in Burlington the next day, and Kevin was staying an extra day to check out the city. The three of us decided to try Rocco's again and this time found several tables to choose from. When we got back to the hotel, it was still fairly warm, so we decided to walk along the Lakeshore. Had some good conversation along the way, and if we didn't hit the highway, would probably have kept walking into the city.

Got back to my hotel room, and dragged one of the big club chairs out onto my balcony, facing the water. With the sound of the radio playing from the room and a view of the lake across the street, I sat down and prepared for my conference call the next day.

>> wednesday
Another work day...this time, just store visits to North York and Burlington, having already toured Etobicoke and Vaughan earlier in the week. Luigi, one of our suppliers, swung by and took Tina and I for lunch at a sushi place nearby. The weather was great, food was good, and we were on the outdoor patio having a good old time, so I almost lost track of time.

Rushed onto the 407 hoping to beat traffic and make it to my teleconference in Burlington on time. I drove at 140 km/h most of the way there and ended up getting pulled over for speeding. Luckily, the cop was nice and let me get off with a $52 fine, after which he gave me exact directions for getting to the Burlington store. I like nice cops...even ones who give me speeding tickets...especially if they give me a wee bit of an out-of-towner's 'discount.'

Made it to Burlington fifteen minutes late, and after scrambling to check-in, find the conference facility that I had booked, and figuring out how to place international calls, caught my breath and went ahead with the call. Needless to say, it was a relief to finally get out of there and head over to my friend Jenn's place in Mississauga at 7:30.

>>thursday
After the trauma of the previous day, I figured I deserved to sleep in, especially since this was the first official day of my vacation in Toronto. I relished in the fact that I was sleeping on a brand new mattress, with newly purchased pillows and a quilt, as well as freshly laundered sheets covering me. I was in heaven!

Jenn's adorable soon-to-be two year old son, Ebreo was at daycare, so she and I ventured into the city for breakfast. Went to Maggie's on College and Spadina, a little eatery that we had discovered when I was in Toronto last summer. They serve a fantastic breakfast with the best garlic fries known to man, and garnish every huge platter with an assortment of fresh fruit. Plus, they serve a killer fresh-squeezed orange juice! Their website is horrible and doesn't do justice to the place, but I've linked it in case you ever want to go visit.

After a great lazy-day sort of breakfast, Jenn went back home to take her dog Aspen to the groomers, and I drove over to the Bridal Path (the ritzy part of town with enormous mansions, manicured lawns, and expensive cars aplenty) to check out the Junior Youth League of Toronto's href="http://www.jlt.org/showhouse/about.html">Showhome at York University. Basically, a bunch of designers get the old house and redeign it to it's former glory. Each design team gets a room and they have to transform it. I guess the bigger name deigners like Kimberly Seldon get bigger rooms and the lesser known designers got crap rooms like broom closets and bathrooms. There were some good designs though.

The best part of the experience was seeing the demographic of people touring the home. Mostly middle-aged women with rich husbands who fit the classic sterotype all too well. Bleached blonde and perfectly coiffed hair, strings of pearls, too much make-up...lord, it was like a Stepford Wives convention at Glendon House! And they all sort of peered at me from beyond their noses trying to figure out what a ruffian like me was doing in their midst. The little old ladies who were volunteering at the house as guides more than made up for the plastic though. They were the sweetest things ever. A few of them came and chatted with me, asking what I thought, if I worked in interior design, et cetera, et cetera. I like nice little old ladies...better than nice cops even!

Since I was in the area, I went to H&M for a visit as well. They've been lauded the IKEA of the fashion world, so I had to go see for myself. While their prices were good, the clothes were okay. The men's stuff was a little boring, but I did manage to find a few basics to stock up on.

Went back to Jenn's for some homemade curry and a movie - the Jim Sheridan flick, In America. I enjoyed it, but Jenn complained that it made her weepy. Wuss! Meanwhile, Ebreo went out like a light, and Aspen took advantage of the movie and coerced me into giving her a thorough back and belly rub for two hours. It truly is a dog's life!

>> friday
Went to a nifty bagel place for breakfast and then to Burlington, so that Jenn could pick up some stuff from Service Office. I went up with her to check it out and ran into some familiar faces, which is always kind of nice. It surprised me at how un-IKEA-like the offices looked though. Left me a little unimpressed.

We then headed into the city again to check out the Home, Self, Tribe exhibit at the Design Exchange. It was small, and again, a little disappointing. There were also some student works showcased, and while there were a few good pieces, the majority of the presentation boards looked like they were elementary school science fair projects. This is what's coming out of Canadian design schools?!? Scary!

After paying $20 for an hour of parking (pure theivery!), we headed back to Mississaugua to avoid the traffic. Went back home and painted the dining room. And then repainted it. And then taped further. And then painted that. Argued about how much should be painted. Threatened to paint each other with rollers.

Afterwards, we picked out Ebreo from daycare and decided to go to Lucy's Seafood Restaurant for dinner. I think we managed to make it through a few spoons of pasta before the little guy started getting restless. The people at the next table kept giving dirty looks, we got everything packed up and headed home - stopping at the video store along the way to pick up School of Rock. We chose a comedy title chosen purely for the reason of offsetting the weepiness of the previous night's movie selection.

>> saturday
I initially planned on heading over to the Toronto Islands, but as I sat in traffic on the QEW eastbound (stupid emergency paving!), it started to rain. I quickly changed my plans and decided to make the day a strolling around & shopping kind of day. Unfortunately, I had to sit in traffic for another hour-and-a-half before those plans could materialize (stupid Toronto traffic...and on a weekend even!).

Anyway, when I finally got out of traffic, I worked my way up Roncesvalles Village, then over to Yonge and Eglinton. Walked around the shops along Yonge, and then swung by Indigo for some airplane fluff reading (the place abounds with trashy magazines). Wound down a bit at a Timothy's coffee shop (basically an upscale Tim Horton's) with my book until I got tired.

>> sunday
Said goodbye to Jenn, Rodel, Ebreo, and Aspen and headed to the airport. The flight back to Vancouver was pretty uneventful except that I got to sit with Tweedle-dum...or was it Tweedle-dee? This woman we wearing a red and white striped shirt and baby blue lycra/spandex pants. The only problem was, she was shaped like one of the Tweedles (round around the middle), so the lycra and spandex was definitely unflattering, and most definietly wrong!

When we touched down in Vancouver, I realized something. Not earth-shattering, mind you, but an important realization just the same. I realized that the reason I am so fascinated with airports (besides the fact that they're sleek, shiny, and new) is that there's a built-in sense of urgency associated with them. People are constantly on the move - travelling to one destination or another. And no matter how exotic or mundane the destination, they're going somewhere...escaping from their daily routines if even for just a day or two.

the end of an era

Farewell Chandler, Monica, Ross, Rachael, Joey, and Phoebe...

Thanks for the laughs (and occasional tears).

sail away...

The OC has been one of my guilty pleasures as of late. At work, it seems only the young-uns partake in this weekly dose of primetime trash drama. I guess we're not old enough to know better...or maybe we're just too young to give a damn. One of our co-workers, overhearing Jeanette and I talk about the show over lunch one day, asked if it was any good. "Any good?" we responded in unison, "It's soooo bad, it's good!"

Anyway, as we bade adieu to another season of teenaged angst and melodrama, I had to giggle at the sight of Ryan leaving in the same clothes he originally arrived to the Cohen mansion in - the wifebeater, draped with the cliched leather jacket and hoodie. Oh, and his favorite accessories, those brooding, Russel-Crowe like, puppy dog eyes. *groan* An al-too obvious wardrobe choice...

Another slap-myself-silly-and-ask-myself-why-I'm-so-engrossed-in-this-stupid-show moment occurred as Marissa stood on the balcony weeping over her departing Ryan. As she fake-cries (being the blatantly obvious person on the show who so obviously lacks the talent to act), her bony hands reach into the planters and pull out a lovely bottle of drink. Drowning your sorrows again, Marissa? Tut, tut! You should know better, you're going to end up in therapy with that psycho Oliver again.

Yet another bang-my-head-against-the-wall moment (although, I have to admit that it got me a little misty-eyed) was when Seth sailed away (to Tahiti, I'm assuming) on his yacht...ahem...raft. What the hell?!? Is that thing even sea-worthy? It looks like it's made out of paper!

As much as I scoff in mock horror at the sordid tales of these hip, young, Californians, I will miss them and will be eagerly anticipating their return in the fall. Summer will be freshly tanned from a summer of frollicking in the sun and still be adorable as all hell. Seth will have returned from his soul-searching adventures a man (that is if he doesn't go the way of Tom Hanks in Castaway). Ryan will dump Theresa after she miscarries, or something equally tragic happens so that he can go back to Orange County and reclaim the Cohen pool house. And hopefully (fingers and toes crossed), Marissa will have fallen off that balcony a tangled, boney mess, having boozed up too much over the departure of her beloved Ryan.

deja-vu

The big cheese was quite chatty with me again today when we crossed paths in the lunch room, which was quite disarming. Not so much because of the chattiness (since he's been giving me the silent treatment lately), but because he repeated the same conversation we had last week - also as we crossed paths in the lunch room. Oh, and I use the word conversation lightly, since it consisted mostly of him yammering on about a proposal that I submitted, me nodding, mumbling "uh-huh, uh-huh" over-and-over again, and putting on a toothy smile.

*groan* I hate it when people speak for the sake of filling silence. But I guess it beats getting the silent treatment.

stirring the pot

It's hard to be excited about uncertainty. It's even harder to be excited about monotony. I guess, all the more reason to stir things up with my (somewhat stagnant) career. Sad, that at two years I feel fit to label it 'stagnant.' Maybe it's just the annual cycle of boredom, or my overly ambitious nature. Whatever it is, I'm ready for something else...I think.

Just started reading a novel by Tony Parsons and one of the lines (which I will now attempt to loosely recount from memory) struck me: The ones who care the least have all the power because they've simply got nothing to lose.

Problem is, I'm finding it hard not to care when I've invested so much time and energy caring about where my career goes. Perhaps the secret lies in learning to tear yourself away and somehow detaching...

Uncertainty sure beats monotony. There's a certain element of implied risk and adventure that's aluring about not knowing what lies ahead. Or maybe I'm just deluding myself.

power to the people

Just got back from a union meeting. Wish I had brought a friend, but unfortunately, I didn't plan ahead. Props to B for bringing snacks for our gang. Like a bunch of bored schoolchildren, we devoured the fruit gummies in no time flat. If not for the suga-suga, I doubt I would have had the energy to stay awake throughout the whole meeting.

The big vote of the evening was almost unanimous - at 93% against the management proposal. I can't help but tear up thinking of how proud Jimmy Hoffa would be at our show of solidarity. Can you hear me dripping with sarcasm?

i'm not a pervert!

Caught a flick with my sister last night. We were initially supposed to see Laws of Attraction, which i had free passes to, but the threatre was overbooked, so there were no seats left. The other folks with free passes reacted horribly to the news and were quite viscious to the poor girl at the ticket counter, tearing down signs, raising voices, and demanding to see the manager. Grace and I were good citizens and maintained our decorum, simply asking to purchase tickets to another show. Mom raised us to be well-behaved kids.

So, that's how we ended up watching 13 going on 30. I have to admit that I've been secretly wanting to watch it since I saw the previews a few months ago. I'm such a sucker for romatic comedies! Sap!

Of course, part of my fascination with the film may have to do with the fact that it stars Jennifer Garner, with whom I've harboured a crush since she played Hannah on Felicity. Grace thought she was a geek in that role, but I was all over the geeky grace that she portrayed.

Funny thing about the movie was that she played the role of a thirteen year old so well that I started to feel weird that I was ogling her throughout the movie. I felt like a pervert who was checking out a prepubescent teenage girl. However, I reassured myself that she was in a thirty year-old body - so the ogling, while perhaps a little barbaric and maybe not exactly super-classy, was somewhat validated. Phew!

I'm not a creep, I'm not a creep, I'm not a creep...