recaplet

Yet another week-in-summary post:

monday
Got a call from Lisa. Talked for hours, but somehow felt much shorter than that. Tried to convince her to come to the Philippines with me in December. Tempted her with promises of scuba diving and durian. It still remains to be seen if she will take the bait.

tuesday
T proposed lunch at Costco, so we all piled into my little car and drove off. There were no seats left insode, so we decided to eat outside. Too windy. Decided to pile back into my car. So, like, totally high school. As we sat and ate our pizza, chicken strips & fries, we made fun of people walking by. Ahhh...high school memories.

wednesday
Had our department Christmas party at Monsoon. Pan Asian food in a funky space. Vegetable Pakoras dipped in a tamarind chutney. Yummy daal and naan bread. Pan seared halibut and mussels with deep fried crispy lotus root and yam chips. The tacky gift exchange got me a three-part gift: an oversized wooden fork & spoon set, a WHAM! cassette, and a Farrah Faucet puzzle which revealed nipplage. Boss Man coveted, so I graciously offered Farrah to him. It was the least I could do. He paid for everyone's meals. He deserved a bit of fun for later.

thursday
Picked up Raj after work and headed to Granville Island to catch The Complete Works of Shakespeare (Abridged). Went to Sandbar for dinner, then laughed our asses off at the show. Rolicking good times!

friday
Finally finished one of my big projects today, including installation. Breathed a big sigh of relief. Got a last-minute creative brief that was a rush job. Freaked out. Panicked. Stayed at work much longer than I should have. Got home at 9:00 pm. Fifteen hours at the office is waaay too long. When the hallucinations begin, it's time to go home.

saturday
Picked up the new Gwen Stefani and U2 albums. Rocked along with Gwen on the drive home. I *heart* her.

sunday
Went to Chapters. Picked up a book to send to Lisa, and then proceeded to shell out $87.14 on magazines. Two fluff reads for the plane ride, one regular read, and an expensive ($49.50) necessity. Why must design magazines be so expensive? You'd think we were well paid or something...

Despite the gorgeous you-should-be-outside-playing weather, I went to the office to get in a few hours of work. Slaved away and got much more done than I had anticipated. By the time I left, it was dark and I had missed my opportunity to frolick in the sunshine.

Fortunately, there are only four more sleeps until I hop on a plane for the sunny beaches of the Philippines. Damn, I still have to pack, wrap up Lisa's books and get them to the post office, pick up some goodies to bring back for my cousins, and finish everything off at work. *sigh* It's hard work preparing to go on vacation!

Vertigo :: U2

highlights

Today's excitements (in no particular order):

let's see...

Made Pad Thai with T and stayed over for dinner with him and his wife. Creation of the gingerbread Hummer followed. It's looking less and less like a Franken-tuck, and more like what it's intended to be. Icing and final touches are scheduled for completion later on in the week. It's a delicate and time-consuming art, this gingerbread sculpting!

Bitched about various annoyances with "the wife" while we hid out in my office late in the afternoon.

Started my current mapping/wayfinding project today, and thought I was making some real progress until I went to the computer and plotted out an initial mock-up. I was confused as ever by what I saw on the screen, and will need to start from square again tomorrow. A full day to realize that what I had was crap! Ah well, not all was in vain. At least I now have a light table for my office. (At least it's mine until someone tries to claim it back.)

Found out how much the folks at the external ad agency make doing the same thing that I do, but more shoddily. Let's just say that they make more money putting together one lousy flyer than I do in a single year! Oh the injustice of it all!

Called a friend in Calgary and had a good long chat...mostly about work, but also a little silliness and gossip thrown in for good measure. Had a chat with an English girl on the other end as well. Being the lover of accents that I am, this had to make it on my list of daily highlights. "Spoke with a Brit. Check!"

Discovered that a co-worker has shingles - otherwise known as herpes zoster, or a version of adult chicken pox. Not sure how contagious it is, but my fingers are crossed that it isn't too catching since we were sharing a bag of candies in the office late last week. I kept scratching nervously today, but I think it's just psychosomatic. I hope.

Found out that a co-worker's partner was just diagnosed with type 1 diabetes over the weekend. It's a big deal, particularly because he's a pilot - and this news means that he is no longer allowed to fly a plane because of the possible effects of the illness. It's what he's worked for long long to be, so the news is pretty devastating. Although he seems to be taking it in good stride so far. This serves as a reminder for me that no matter how bad I think things may be in my life, it's not really all that unbearable.

I'm going to go count my blessings now...

customer service

I finally found a copy of Back Porch Spirituals online and placed an order today. This was the e-mail confirmation that I received:

Your CD has been gently taken from our CD Baby shelves with sterilized contamination-free gloves and placed onto a satin pillow.

A team of 50 employees inspected your CD and polished it to make sure it was in the best possible condition before mailing.

Our packing specialist from Japan lit a candle and a hush fell over the crowd as he put your CD into the finest gold-lined box that money can buy.

We all had a wonderful celebration afterwards and the whole party marched down the street to the post office where the entire town of Portland waved 'Bon Voyage!' to your package, on its way to you, in our private CD Baby jet on this day, Sunday, November 14th.

I hope you had a wonderful time shopping at CD Baby. We sure did. Your picture is on our wall as 'Customer of the Year'. We're all exhausted but can't wait for you to come back to CDBABY.COM!!

Thank you once again,
Derek Sivers, president, CD Baby
the little CD store
with the best new independent music
phone: 1-800-448-6369
email: cdbaby@cdbaby.com
http://www.cdbaby.com/

All I can say is, there had better be a gold-lined box encasing my CD when it arrives in the mail!

I love these people! I fully realize that the schmaltz is pure marketing, but I don't care. Put a beanie on my head and call me a sucker! Oh, and to the people of Portland, you're welcome. I hope you enjoyed the parade rustled up on my account.

let it shine

Went to T's place after work today to build a gingerbread house. Kinda.

A little background. There's a gingerbread house contest at work. And while I'm not usually one to participate in cheesy little contests like this on a regular basis, I allowed T to convince me that it would be fun.

So, rather than making a typical gingerbread house, we hashed out a few different ideas. The Chrysler Building, a Frank Lloyd Wright house, and Malibu Barbie's Dream House were all discussed, as was a scale model of the building we're currently in the process of remodelling. In the end, we gave in to our testosterone fueled imaginations and decided to build a gingerbread Hummer. So far, I've built the body and T has fashioned tires from ropes of black licorice. It's coming together quite well, I must say. Stay tuned next week as I attempt to make plate glass for the windshield out of caramelized sugar.

We're such dorks!

After a quick dinner of pizza and beer, we headed over to the Media Club to soak in the folk-pop jangle of Jeremy Fisher in concert.



At various points throughout the evening, I was singing along and toe-tapping and lap-drumming like a kid in need of ritalin. Honestly, how could one not love a skinny afro-ed white kid singing his heart out with just a guitar and a harmonica (and the recent addition of a three-man band) to back him up? The only disappointment of the evening was finally making it to the back of the club to see if I could pick up a copy of his 2002 debut album, Back Porch Spirituals, only to find that they had all been sold. If I wasn't a saner person, I'd hop on the next flight to Alberta, follow the tour and pick up a copy of his first CD.

I'll try my luck online first.


Singing on the Sidewalk :: Jeremy Fisher

embarrassment

I'm sick of looking at my generic looking, template driven blog. As a graphic designer, I should be thoroughly embarrassed not to have a fancy schmancy looking site. Shame on me! I should seriously be walking around with a paper bag over my head. *sigh*

Don't worry, I'll get around to it...eventually. After I finally get rid of this decrepit old home computer (and replace it with a sexier version), wrap up the current round of freelance jobs, make it through her highness, my sister's wedding, finish training my new assistant to the point where he no longer requires adult supervision, start working more normal hours, and manage to avoid missing meals.

In other words, don't hold your breath.


The Bitch is Back :: Elton John

jump

in omnia paratus

....which apparently means, prepared for all things. Like jumping off really hgh structures. Holding black umbrellas. And wearing fancy duds.

Oh Life & Death Brigade, if you were real, what I wouldn't do to become a member - just so I could pull silly stunts like this and not think twice about how silly they are, but rather how brave, adventurous, and completely spontaneous I am.

I watch waaay too much television.

sickly

Today marks day three of being quarantined at home with a nasty cold and splitting headache.

I awoke this morning and stumbled out of my room after calling the boss man to tell himthat I wouldn't be heading into the office, only to be greeted by the wailing of the house alarm. Apparently, my sister turned it on, not realizing that I was still alseep in bed when she left the house. Anyway, I enter teh code to disarm the system, get a call from the alarm company and give them the secret code to let them know that everything's alright. Everything under control, or so I thought.

The phone rings a few more times and the doorbell rings, but I ignore them both because I'm sick and don't feel like dealing with telemarketers or door-to-door canvassers. So instead, I plop myself down in front of the TV and start watching one of the DVDs that I rented. A few minutes later, I hear some rumbling outside, and then, a uniformed cop appears at the patio door. Turns out, I gave the wrong secret code to the alarm company, and the cops came to investigate. He climbed over the fence and into the backyard to gain entry and was sort of surprised to see me watching TV in the den. I went and got some ID and explained the whole situation, which seemed to placate him. It did manage to infuse a jolt of excitement to my otherwise boring day at home though.

Rather than do anything remotely useful or productive, I pretty much surrendered myself in front of the television and watched movies and bad daytime TV for the past three days. I had hoped the Angels in America DVD would be on the shelves at the video store, so that I could watch all six hours of it in one sitting, but it was out. I opted for a smattering of other selections in its place:

Mambo Italiano
Blast!
I'm the One that I Want
Igby Goes Down
Virgin Suicides
A Home at the End of the World
(after first finishing the novel by Michael Cunnigham, of course)
Bollywood/Hollywood

I'm too lazy to write reviews for any of them. All were generally good, but A Home at the End of the World was particularly so. A well-writted screenplay, ballanced by some very nuanced performances. I didn't even mind the plot changes and character omissions made to the novel in order to bring the work to screen.

Unless I take a turn for the worse, I head back to the office tomorrow to face all sorts of calamity, no doubt. I've kinda gotten used to lazing around at home with nothing to do but fold laundry and watch movies, but one more day of mind numbing boredom, and I think I will go crazy.


To Be Real :: Cheryl Lynn

"there's a two-for-one special on brooding young men"

shiny happy people

For the first time in a long time, I came home before dark today. Took advantage of the last few remaining hours of daylight, threw my parka on and headed out for a walk. I figured that it's been a while since I've gone running that I should probably ease myself into it, rather than be all hard core about it. With the sounds of Donovan crooning in my headphones, I set of for a brisk autumn stroll down by the creek.

The air was cool and crisp, and I was entranced by the steam of my breath mingling with the cold air. Rain from the past few days made the grass soggy and wet, so no crunchinhing of leaves beneath my feet was to be had. Just the occasional squish and slosh of wet leaves permeated with yesterday's rain.

When I reached the creek, I noticed a pair of eyes peering at me from across the way. Startled, I took a step back as my heart skipped a few beats. Turned out to be an owl, perched on a trre branch, starting at me, but not commenting on my intrusion. I stared back, and after a long silence, we made our peace and only half-heartedly contemplated each other with polite disregard.

Seconds later, I was startled by a violent thrashing in the creek bed below. Upon closer inspection, I realized that I had stumbled upon a salmon run. The sleek silvery coats of the fish reflected the dwindling sunlight left peering through the treebranches overhead as they struggled to make their way upstream. Several of his comrades followed, each larger and more brutish than the last.

As they bellied their way past the large stones that dotted the creek, using them as leverage to push past the currentforcing its way downstream, I recognized the bullheaded determination in the midst of seeming futility. Part of me wanted to step into the frigidly cold waters, and guide them to the edge of the creek where the water doesn't flow as strong, and where they could propel themselves upstream with greater ease. But I realized that part o the beauty of this cycle is the struggle against adversity and the determination required to succeed.

I wish I could say that I returned home with my head held a little higher and a bounce in my step, determined to face the challenges ahead. Unfortunately, the only determination I had was to prepare a real dinner for myself - not that Chef Boyardee or Top Ramen crap that I've been ingesting lately out of sheer laziness.

Soy chicken with a side of stir-fried snow peas, miniature corn and cashews, served on savory steamed rice. After diner, I'm planning on indulging in some freshly made sorbet and the return of my favourite guilty pleasure.

Speaking of which, I just had to take this personality quiz. (I'm such a fourteen year old girl sometimes!) Apparently, I'm sooo Ryan. I would have thought more along the lines of Seth, but, like, what-ever!


really?

Here's to another season of watching spoiled anorexic girls boozing it up, brooding Russel-Crowe look-alikes in uniform wife beaters, and dorky protagonists getting the girl, an insane amount of pop culture references, and a pretty good handful of pretty good tunes.


Leaving New York :: REM

the people have spoken

...and this is what they said. I hoped that people would have come to their senses and voted someone with the ability to string together coherent, intelligent-sounding sentences, at the very least, but who am I to judge?

I listen to this station at work, and as part of their post-election coverage, they hit the streets and interviewed Americans living in London to get their reaction to the news. Most were disappointed, but one girl was crying. Literally weeping.

God Bless America...red, white, and blue states alike.

doyenne

Today was my dad's birthday. Yes, he's Halloween baby. Funny thing is, he's a pretty fundamentalist Christian, so Halloween is very much a pagan holiday in his book. This has made for some interesing birthday celebrations in previous years. We usually celebrate with a birthday dinner at home, but when the trick-or-treaters would come ringing the doorbell, Dad would turn off all the lights and tell us to be quiet until the kids went away. Like the kids wouldn't notice the fact that the lights were one as they walked up the driveway, and the sounds of conversation filtering through the house, only to disappear the minute they reach the front door. But since it was Dad's day...we did as was requested of us and sat silently in the dark shaking our heads in embarassment. Part of our non-participation in so-called pagan rituals, I guess. Every so often, I'll get dressed up to go to work or to a party, and I know he's got a look of disappointment or disapproval on his face.

Anyway, this year, to avoid having to hide from the trick-or-treaters, we went out for dinner instead. We had planned on Japanese, but the place was closed, so we went to this great Indian Chinese place. Real fusion food without the pretentiousness of 'fashionable fusion.' The owner is a Chinese guy who grew up in India, so the menu is basically Chinese food with Indian flavourings.

We finished the evening off with cake - one that my sister and her fiance bought, and the other that I made...sorta. Ice cream cake topped with raspberry sorbet and decorated with whole raspberries and mint leaves glazed in a sugar syrup.

In addition to cake decorating, i've been a domestic doyenne the rest of this weekend as well. Cleaning...laundry...I even hemmed six pairs of pants - three pairs of khakis, two pairs of jeans, and a pair of cords. i broke two sewing machine needles in the process (damned jeans are way too thick for those wimpy little needles!), but at least it's all done. I've been putting it off for way too long, and since I was too cheap to get them to a tailor, I had to figure out how to do it myself.

I alo went to catch the Ray Charles biopic over the weekend. I liked that the movie portrayed the good and the bad and was not simply a glorified celebration of a musician's life. The man was unquestionably talented, but not without his faults and demons. Jamie Foxx was incredible. It wasn't until the end of the movie that I remembered that he was an actor portraying Ray, not Ray Charles himself as a younger man. If he doesn't get an Oscar for this performance come March, I will be shocked and dismayed. A hissy fit and questions about the competence of "The Academy" may follow, punctuatedwith many a cuss word.


"Deed I Do :: Blossom Dearie