Look no farther

Malcolm did some research and took me out to a surprise venue for a romantic honeymoon dinner in Bangkok.  When we arrived at the destination, I learned that he'd chose SMITH restaurant on Soi 49, Sukhumvit.

   "I read that their steak tartare is really good so you  might want to try that," Malcolm told me. I was SO game.

The inside of the restaurant matched the metallic outside.  The exterior was a nondescript building of corrugated metal.  The interior had metal seating everywhere, wrought iron details, and a section with meath -hooks hanging from the ceiling.  Funky photo-portraits decorated one of the few walls of exposed brick.  The lights were low to set the atmosphere while the in-house DJ spun old-school R&B; forgotten singles by TLC and All Saints threw us into a nostalgic mood.

Everything on the menu looked delicious and we decided to order accordingly.  Malcolm let me place my order first: I asked for the fresh oysters (3) and the steak tartare (of course!) to start, the pasta special as my main, and a side order of brussel sprouts.

Apparently the server wasn't accustomed to inquisitive Canadian appetites because she took that to be our entire order and left. Malcolm and I caught each other's eye and laughed before beckoning her back to take Malcolm's order of mussels and sea bass.  Turns out she had to return a final time because they'd run out of mussels and we had to fill that (obviously) gaping void in our giant order to sate our appetites.

The food came and we tucked in.  We were not disappointed.  I was pleased to try caviar with my oysters and was delighted when my steak tartare was arranged as a sunrise (or sunset) on my plate.  Malcolm's salad was the best he'd had - "I could eat this everyday!" - and our mains were delicious.  Admittedly, I think I enjoyed Malcolm's sea bass with buttery foam a little more than my tortellini.

As we dined, Malcolm shared another tidbit with me.

   "Apparently the chef and owner of this restaurant is the Iron Chef of Thailand."
   "That's awesome! What else did you read from the reviews."
   "That was it."
   "There were no more?"
   "No; after reading that they served good steak tartare and that it was by Iron Chef Thailand, I knew you'd like it for sure, so I stopped reading."
   "Fair enough."

He knows me so well.  Perhaps the way to my heart is also through my stomach.

We ended our perfect evening by sharing a banana split (the bananas were fired like the tops of crème brulée!) that was delectable and then left for home and a massage - extremely satisfied but not too full.  It was perfect honeymoon dining with my husband (husband!).

What'cha doin'?

Hi.

We're alive.  :)

We made it through a lot and I HAVE been writing about it, but in the good old fashioned way with pen and paper (my pen actually died before we even left Malaysia).  Here's what we've made it through so far:

• we got married (amazing wedding, amazing party, many happy tears)
• we flew to Malaysia
• I averted a pickpocket attempt on Malcolm in the airport (by kicking someone, no less)
• we took the Canadian family around KL to see things and stuff them full of food
• we had another wedding tea ceremony (amazing family, more happy tears)
• we had another wedding reception (oh, the FOOD!)
• we flew to Bangkok
• I got over food poisoning from the airplane food on that first glorious night
• boys went fishing, girls went shopping (though I really had to concentrate to get my poisoned shit together for two days following)
• we ate FOOD
• honeymooned in Krabi - I didn't want to leave
• returned to Bangkok
• I avoided another pickpocket attempt (this time a motorbike purse-snatcher) by having my wits about me...though I wish I'd managed to kick another someone else in this instance
• we got massages
• I caught a cold that I booted after a glorious day of sleep mixed with cable TV
• we bought stuff
• we ate stuff
• we ate more stuff
• we're going to eat more stuff

Of course there are more details, but those will come later. I think I need to go sit by the pool for a bit. :)

The honeymoon diet.

Step 1: eat bad airplane food.
Step 2: throw up all the food you've eaten in the past 24 hours.
Step 3: expel any remaining food, liquids and nutrients anyway your body allows.

I don't have a scale, but I'm guessing you'll drop at lest 4 to 5 pounds via this method.  Also throw in some non-eating days due to food grossing you out while at the same time going on full day shopping excursions because you're too stubborn to ruin the trip for anyone else and that'll probably help a bit too.

Well, I WAS a little worried about the bikini bod, but this was a little surprise jump-start to getting back on track...
...

   "Oh my god I threw up so hard I gave myself an ab cramp!"

1. Abs can cramp individually?
2.  I have abs?!

It's gettin' hot in hurr

I checked the weather for Thailand - 33°C daily, though it's going to feel like 47°C.

I don't even know why I'm packing clothes.

What's in a name - part 2

On the Saturday before our Malaysian wedding reception, all of Malcolm's aunts and uncles poured into the house to greet us, to eat, and to start the celebrations early.  With Malcolm's mom being the eldest of eight siblings, and with many children and grandchildren running around already, there were a LOT of new faces to meet.

As they all arrived in a steady stream of bodies, I passed some helpful advice to Brodder that I'd learned myself the previous two times this had happened to me.  It was a great survival tip and he appreciated it.  Later, Like-a-boss-Lee asked Brodder if the evening had been overwhelming with all of that new family.  He gave away the secret tip:

   "Actually, once melody told me not to worry about the names and just to call everyone 'Auntie' or 'Uncle,' it was okay."

Herding cats

On the way to the Batu caves, we managed to arrive just 5 minutes before the next train to our destination was about to depart.  Buying our tickets, we scurried over to the KTM entrance; Brodder took the lead while I brought up the rear to make sure we didn't lose mom or dad.  We flew through the turnstiles (kind of - the ticking system was new to mom and dad) and Brodder led the way down to our platform.

   "Platform 3!" he yelled over his shoulder.
   "Platform 3!" I confirmed from the giant destination marquees set at the head of the station stairs.  Taking the stairs at a run, blindly trusting us, mom called back up to us,
   "Platform 3, how do you know?"

Giant marquees.

When we reached the platform, we were asked again,

   "Are you sure this is the right platform?"

Signs everywhere: "to Batu Caves."

Sigh.
...

Later that day, mom wanted to scoot up some steps to follow signs to the nearby hotel in hopes to score a tourist map.  She'd originally asked Brodder, me and dad to wait for her at the bottom of the stairs, but after a moment, Ken and I considered the bustle of the busy train station and decided otherwise.

   "Dad, change of plans: follow mom up the stairs."

Dad obviously didn't hear me, so I repeated myself.

   "Dad! Follow mom up the stairs."

He still didn't respond, so Brodder tried.

   "Dad! Go up the stairs - follow mom!"

Still nothing.

   "Dad!  Go up the stairs!"

Finally, dad turned around to face us.

   "Hey guys, I think we should follow mom up the stairs."

Yes.

Making a point

I somewhat recall waving a marshmallow skewer around that night, pointing the business end of it at TCHC, demanding him to make up his mind (about a girlfriend of mine) and to get his shit together about the other aspects of his life.

I was given more information than I had bargained for.  And an onion.  I was also given an onion. 

Name that song

There's a song that always makes me think of my brother in-law, LaBLee, every time I hear it.  It was his ringtone the first time I met him and it always made me laugh because LaBLee was more often than not all dressed up for/from work and he was always polite and cordial.  But then his phone would ring and this badass gangsta anthem would play and totally knock down this facade.  While I always recognized the "LaBLee" song whenever I heard it, I could NEVER, for the life of me, remember the actual name of the song, despite its popularity and it being a hit with everybody.

Then, of course, I wanted to play the song at the wedding party and dedicate it to my new brother in-law, and of course I couldn't remember the title of it as usual.  However, I wanted it to happen, so I did some research.  I scoured the dance floor for reliable sources and proceeded to shout my questions at them over the music.

   "Dimps!"
   "What?"
   "What was the name of the song that was LaBLee's ringtone?"
   "Oh my god I know it!  Oh god, what is it called?"
   "I don't remember!"
   "Me neither, but I know it!"
   "Ack!  Uh, Yapper!" I called to another friend.
   "Yeah!" he danced his way over.
   "You know that song: 'to the windows, to the wall...'"
   "'...til the sweat drips down my balls...!'"
   "Yes!  What's that song called?!"
   "I can't remember!"
   "Dammit!"
   "Someone will know."
   "I know.  Kee!" I called to another friend.
   "Yeah!"
   "What's the name of the song: 'to the windows, to the wall...'"
   "'...till the sweat drips down my balls, and all these bitches crawl...!'"
Then bystanders joined in, shouting,
   "'...to all skeet skeet muthafuckas! All skeet skeet aw damn...!"
   "Yes!  What's the name of that song?!"
   "I don't know!"

And so it continued.  I think it was finally Señorita's brother that finally came through for me in the end and I managed to request and dedicate the song.  And then it was played and the entire dance floor exploded.  To the windows, to the wall, EVERYONE knew ALL the words and went nuts...and I bet none of us remembered the title afterwards either.

"Get Low" - and we did.

What we did wrong

   "We spent all of that time worrying about what to do if BGoa showed up when we should have been working about Number1."

   "You know how at family events, everyone has 'that uncle?'" Well, Number1 is ours."
...

This Number1 managed to have a few too many and then proceeded to do things to peeve other family members during the reception.  He aggrandized himself to my in-laws, and then monopolized my photographer for his own, choice family photos--favourites only (funny, I wasn't in those ones...), only to then give the photographer a lecture about how he didn't know how to be a photographer, how he charged too much, and how Number1 could do a much better job himself.

To say the least, my photographer became one of those on the list that Number1 peeved that night.  In a moment of heated venting of words, I waved Brodder over to the head table for damage control.

   "DO something with him!" I hissed a whisper in Brodder's ear, motioning to Number1.  And I guess he did, because I didn't hear about Number1 anymore that night.

I told this story two months later to my co-worker who had his wedding just two weeks after mine; we were laughing, sharing the unplanned-event notes from our wedding.

   "So what happened to your uncle?"
   "I don't know, but I know that my brother took care of it."
   "Have you seen your uncle since your wedding?"
   "Actually, no, I haven't."
   "Maybe your brother 'took care' of it alright..."
   "Maybe I should ask him what happened..."
   "Maybe you should."
...

In case you're curious, Number1 appeared at Christmas dinner. :)

The origins of the onion

Our wedding day was filled with joyous tears.  A lot of them.  I think Malcolm started it.  And I love him all the more of it.  Anyway, to excuse the constant welling ups, Malcolm made the comment - multiple times - that someone in the building must have been cutting onions.

When it came time for our speech together to everyone, we were no exception to the tears.  Just as the tears started up, I was distracted by a body sneaking through the crowd towards us.  I realized it was TCHC just as he slunk up to the head table, but had no clue what he was up to.  Nearly sidelining me from what I had to say, his purpose came to light a moment later.

He wordlessly placed an onion - what turned out later to be THE onion - on the podium and slunk away again with just a quick nod at Malcolm.  Malcolm presented the onion to the audience.

"Here's the culprit!"

There was laughter and more love.  And more tears, even though that onion remained whole the rest of the night.

The walk out

The day was just running away.  At the start of it, I'd decided I'd just relinquish all control and just let it all happen.  I'd done all that I could leading up to this day, it was time to let the planning fall into place.  I guess because of that, I'd managed to keep calm all day.  My emotions were on an even-keel, despite the fact that I was counting down the mere hours and then minutes left to the most important moment of my life.  Infrequent time-checks got my pulse pumping periodically, but without a constantly visible clock to tick the minutes away, I was okay.  Even putting the dress on was still just "getting dressed" in my brain.

Was I just going to go through the motions of this "big day" like any other day?

Hair up, makeup done, dress on, I was ushered down the hall to the room that was to connect me to my path down the aisle.  Alone with just Señorita, she arranged my train behind me--but I was still okay.

And then my dad entered the room and as the door closed behind him as he scooted in, I caught a glimpse of those outside waiting for the ceremony to start, and I thought I was still okay.

Suddenly, I was shaking.  That was the moment it all hit me--I was about to get married.  I heard "Cello Suite 1" start to play - Señorita's cue - and then the moment - my moment - was suddenly racing towards me in fast forward.  And then it was my turn.  We'd planned for a dramatic pause between Señorita's song and mine to put the audience into a state of suspense, and that plan was backfiring on me - I was cracking under the anticipation.  When the song finally began - "Air on the G String" - I was glad to have dad's arm to hold on to.
...

Down the aisle
I recall walking down the aisle and trying to look at everyone as they looked at me; I think that was someone's advice to me, but I couldn't quite remember at that moment.  It was amazing to me that everyone was there for me - it really was my day.

Close to the end of the aisle, I finally met Malcolm's eyes.  Already there were tears running down his face.  His tears weren't alone for long.

The formal words were a blur; I remember repeating after Alex, our officiant, I remember accidentally putting the ring on Malcolm a little too early, I remember he had to wipe away tears from both of our faces more than once.  I remember that even with the words to hear and repeat, and even with all of those people watching, we managed to share private moments together in the moments before becoming husband and wife.

I remember just being so happy.

The WiFi

The data reception at the venue was spotty at best, but in the bridal suite, it was non-existent.  However, I noticed there was WiFi available and so I asked someone to see if they could get the password so we could stream some music.  Some time later, Brodder got an internet stick that he delegated Lingmon Guy to get working for us.  Some time after that last update, Lingmon Guy entered the bridal suite with only his phone in hand.

   "I'm sorry, I just couldn't get the USB internet thing to work on your laptop."
   "That's okay, no worries."
   "In lieu of the ability to stream music, I shall serenade you."
   "Aw, LMG, that's okay," I reassured him from my seat on the floor with my makeup artist, Charming.  As he made his way past us into the corner of the room she commented,
   "He's so funny."
A moment later, we heard LMG's voice.
   "When I was young..."
   "What?"
   "...I never needed anyone..."
   "What are you doing?"
   "...and making love was just for fun..."
   "Oh my,"
   "...living alone, I think of all the friends I've known..."
   "LMG, you don't have to do that,"
   "...when I dial the telephone..."
   "Is he singing?"
   "...nobody's home..."
   "Yes, yes he is."
   "...All by myself...don't wanna be: all by myself. Anymore..."

Well, we can't say we didn't have music.
...

Unbeknownst to anyone, when mom packed up the bridal suite, she found the venue's USB internet stick and, thinking it belonged to one of us, she packed it up and we brought it home.  It wasn't until we were packing to leave for Malaysia that I realized what had happened.  I sent at text to my ever-reliable wedding coordinator:

Me - we stole their wifi
Brodder - Oops.  It didn't work anyway.

True.

What's in a name?

Both of the mothers were scheduled to arrive later that morning which left the bridal suite filled with just us young girls - the only married one was our makeup artist and she had only had her wedding a little over a month before mine.

Thank goodness the moms weren't there.

The topic of conversation was about what to do with your maiden name.  Señorita and my makeup artist, Charming, were of Hispanic/Filipino tradition: their names consisted of both their mother's maiden name and their father's last name: Señorita Looking For Fun, and Charming Iss Living Talent.*  Their tradition followed that at marriage, they would drop their mother's maiden name and adopt their husband's family name; Señorita would lose "For" and Charming would lose "Living."

*obviously these names are made up, but the initials are (pretty much) true for illustrative purposes.

However, while Charming and I both wanted to take our husbands' names, neither of us wanted to lose any of the ones we already had.  After some excited discussion, the suggestion was made to just smash our maiden names into our already existing middle names and take our married names as our solitary last name.  That made me Melody Amazing Choiceto Love, and Charming Iss Living Talent Sublime.  The difference was that to do this, we'd require a legal name change versus just assuming his last name.  And then came the comment from Charming:

   "My name is going to be so long!"
   "But it'll be worth it - you get to keep everything AND get a bad-ass last name to boot.  Just get it legally changed."
   "Yeah, you're right.  And while I"m at it, I should just switch my second and third names so my initials will be 'CLITS.'"

I died.
...

I shared this story with Brodder and we had a laugh.
   "That's like 'Coors Light Iced Tea,'" he pointed out.
   "Oh my god, it is!  Someone didn't think that one through."
   "Or maybe they did.  And it gets funnier the drunker you get - 'I'd like some more CLIT, please!'"

Oh gawd.

Stylin'

With the big day only 64 days away, Malcolm and I have been GSDing on high mode (Getting Shit Done).  While his suit is being custom tailored, we thought we might just see what it would cost to buy just a vest off the rack.  With this in mind, we stopped into Moore's Formalwear to see what they had. I went in and inquired with one of the saleswomen.

   "Excuse me, do you sell any vests?"
   "We mostly rent, but we do have a few. I have them in black and cream."
   "Great, can we take a look?"
   "Of course, they're just over here," she led us to the rack of vests and took a look at what was on display. "Oh, it looks like I have one more colour of vest as well..."

OMG.

Well, we ARE getting married out under the trees in a forest...and I like that it comes with the pre-tied tie and bowtie so that not only do you have options, but you don't have any hassle to worry about when it comes to putting it on.

Go exhausted, brain, you're home

I got off the train yesterday on my way home and by the time I got to my car, I realized I was missing an earring. Having just completed and exhausting day at work, it was just that much more frustrating to me at the end of the day. I rarely ever lose earrings, and these were practically brand new and had been a gift from Malcolm. Feck.

Defeated, me and my one remaining earring made our way home and to bed, writing it off to be dealt with the next day.

This morning, I arrived at my desk only to discover evidence of just how exhausting the previous day had been.

Sofa king.

That means I didn't lose an earring, it means I stylishly took one off and safely put it on my desk while I rocked the single earring for the rest of the day.  Ta-da.

When do we want it?

Big companies are not always up-to-date with the latest technologies--the company I work for is no exception.  But that's okay because I think that's pretty much the norm.  Anyway, I got an email notice the other day for an upcoming software installation to my computer:

Now, I love all things Google, but I had no idea what Google Chrome Frame was.  So like any other curious mind, I searched it up--with Google--and found this:

Winding down?  LoL.

*The original version of this meme used only browser logos - this one has Allie Brosh's cartoon cleaning self but doesn't acknowledge it.  Since I could only find this version of the meme, I will acknowledge her myself. :)

Quote of the moment

   "I think watermelon is the best tasting water there is."
       --Malcolm, over a giant bowl of watermelon

From A to B

I've a crazy stressful 2 days at work.  I've been trying to do an internal launch of a new product that is joined to a contest to encourage employees to read and participate in this effort.  Translations were running behind, programming wasn't working out, I was trying to source a contact list to populate my contest with in order to invite participants but it was going to take longer than expected to extract this list, then the testing would run long, but we really wanted to launch this week, but all of the main subject area experts were away and then somehow some VPs got involved and it was all just crashing down on me.

And then, Gillian.

She called me because she had had to field some questions on my behalf.  She listened to my problem, she heard what I was trying to do, and then after gathering all of that information, she solved it for me as illustrated below:

Why didn't I think of that?

And then I took the solution back to my team and the response was the same: why didn't we think of that?

Today, I *heart* Gillian.  Thank you for thinking of that.
...

Update - 4:30 pm

I shared my infographic with Gillian...she loved it. :)

Quotes of the moment

A perfect one to follow the previous girly quote...

From one other girl to another:

   "These are really juicy melons."
   "Are you saying you like my juicy melons?"
   "I am."
...

This long weekend, we had a BBQ which we ended off by playing Cards Against Humanity.  If you've ever played it, you'd understand.  It's like mad-libs for people who have no sense of decency. Anyway, we had a howling good time, especially considering the fact that it was some people's first time getting to know each other.  At the end of the game, two strangers-turned-new-friends said their goodbyes to part ways.

   "Hey, that was fun!  It was nice playing and getting to know you."
   "Yeah, same here. I'm sure we'll see each other again."
   "Yup - in hell."

Maybe you had to be there, or maybe you'd have had to have played the game...that was pretty slick.
...

One of the winning card combinations of last night:
I got 99 problems but fisting ain't one.

Indeed.

Quote of the Moment:

From one girl to another:

   "Thanks for sharing your melons with me."
   "Anytime!"

WTF WFH

The first time one of my co-workers sent out the obligatory email to inform the rest of the team she was going to work from home, I had no idea what she meant.  The message was all in the subject line:

S: WFH - nobody mess with my desk!!!

I dissected the message as such:

S: = a backwards :S face indicating her possible confusion or frustration with something.

WFH = a possible typo of WTH (what the hell) or a possible, really bad typo of WTF (no explanation needed, I'm sure)

Nobody mess with my desk!!! = explanation of her inclusion of the S: and the WFH

I learned later that I was very wrong.

S: = short message, no text in body of email so don't bother reading any more

WFH = work(ing) from home

Nobody mess with my desk!!! = there'd been an incident with someone else's desk earlier...
...

So today I thought I'd WFH in an attempt to fly quietly below the work radar and catch up on a bunch of projects.  That was so very not the case. Instead, I ended up spending my entire day on catching up on things that were not even part of my work load.

I'm now counting down the minutes to time to log off.

The creepiness of carb withdrawal

I was sitting at my desk today, grumbling about having missed breakfast and my morning coffee when my co-worker came by.

   "Hey, there's a bagel in the kitchen that you should go eat."

   "Oh thank god - I'm starving!  Wait, why don't you eat it?"

   "Because I can't eat it - I'm getting married in a month!  You're getting married in four months; you still have time!"

   "Okay fine."

And so I got up from my desk and headed to the kitchen. To my surprise, she followed me. She wasn't getting food and she already had a drink in hand, so I chalked it up to just being social.

I got to the kitchen, and sure enough, there was one last lonely bagel on a breakfast platter, with cream cheese on the side, waiting to be used up.  I grabbed a plate and opened up the tub of cream cheese, ready to dress my bagel.

   "Wait!"

   "What?"

   "Aren't you going to toast that first?"

   "Oh, I hadn't thought about it. Yeah, I guess so."

   "Well, it's just that that's what I would do."

   "Oh, well, okay."

I tossed the bagel into the toaster, and together, my co-worker and I waited, chatting and making small talk with other visitors to the kitchen. When it was ready, I topped it with cream cheese and headed back to my desk, friend still in tow. I sat down with my bagel and took a bite before continuing my conversation with her.

   "How's the bagel?"

   "Good.  Thanks for letting me know it was there."

As we kept talking, I noticed something. Rather than make eye contact with me, my friend kept eying the bagel. Whenever I would pick it up for a bite, her eyes would follow it from the plate to my mouth and back.

   "Uh, did you want some of the bagel?"

   "No! Of course not!"

   "Well you can't take your eyes off it..."

   "It just looks really good."

   "You're starting to creep me out."

   "I'm kind of going through carb withdrawal."

   "I can tell."

   "So is it good?"

   "Yes, but I think you need to leave."

   "It smells really good."

   "I really think you need to leave."

   "Can you describe the taste to me?"

   "Okay, you really need to go now."

   "I'd better go..."

...

The things that we women do to look good on the big day.  I'm dreading the days that I force myself to go through carb withdrawal and become a food perv myself.

Thank goodness I'm vain

I approached the waist-high sinks in the ladies rooms after using the facilities.  While washing my hands, I checked out my hair and shirt to make sure I was presentable.  While I dried my hands, I stepped back for a more full-length review of myself.

THANK GOD I DID!

My skirt was tucked up awkwardly into itself in the back, providing anyone following me with a free show.  Thank god I was in the ladies room.  Alone.  Whew.

Confession of a food-a-holic

Last night I made a conscious effort to prepare myself a healthy lunch in order not only to save myself the lunch money, but to also try to gain a few points towards my health.  That lunch is still sitting in the fridge as I type this.

Things I stuffed into my pie-hole today instead of my lunch:

• a banana (intended as my healthy breakfast)
• a sausage roll - ground sausage baked greasily and deliciously into a flaky pastry. And a whole one...everyone else was kind enough to only help themselves to half of one except for me
• 4 timbits - I started with just one, but then other people came and I couldn't let them eat alone...
• a slice of surprise pizza - surprise because I have no idea what type it was, one slice because there weren't any extras

Not surprisingly, I'm not yet hungry for that healthy salad that's still in the fridge...

Tucked in

She feels a gentle caress of cool fingers against her cheek.  She reluctantly opens her eyes to investigate and sees him reaching across the pillows.  He sees her open eyes and smiles at her- she'd fallen asleep while reading - book still in her hand.

"Hey baby."

Against her will, she eyes fall closed again as she gives a weak mew of complaint and exhaustion, content to let the book sleep with her on the pillow, pressing its words into her face.  Her last vision is of him still smiling at her.

She feels the fingers leave her cheek as gently as they arrived.  The book is eased out of her grip.  There's the soft sounds of padding feet as he makes his way around the bed and she hears him mark her page before placing the book into its dusty void on her night stand.  Her lamp snaps off.

He places one last kiss on her temple before crawling back under cover on the other side of the bed so as not to disturb her.  She sleeps soundly.

Lunchtime

I had a very productive lunch today. I found a new favourite gif to use at work:

I found a great quote:

I love deadlines. I love the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.

                  -  Douglas Adams 


And I found a cool number:

I feel like I should make a wish or something...

...or perhaps get back to work.  You know, whatever...

Can you print this video for me?

Part of my marketing job is to delegate print requests for our marketing material. However, this one came in from one of our usual suspects and I really had to raise my eyebrows at the fact she wanted something like this (if it even existed) printed.

Hello,
We require 100 brochures which allow members to upload the Mobile App on their blackberry or android phone.

Really?  She should have included her question about why the .gifs stopped working after she printed them out.

"When I was your man" - Bruno Mars

Same bed, but it feels just a little bit bigger now
Our song on the radio, but it don't sound the same
When our friends talk about you all that it does is just tear me down
Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name
And it all just sound

Hmmm too young, too dumb to realize
That I should have bought you flowers and held your hand
Should have gave you all my hours when I had the chance
Take you to every party because all you wanted to do was dance
Now my baby is dancing, but she's dancing with another man

My pride, my ego, my needs and my selfish ways
Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life
Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made
And it haunts me every time I close my eyes
It's all just sounds

Too young, too dumb to realize
That I should have bought you flowers and held your hand
Should have gave all my hours when I had the chance
Take you to all the parties because all you wanted to do was dance
Now my baby is dancing, but she's dancing with another man.

Although it hurts I'll be the first to say that I was wrong
Oh, I know I'm probably much too late
To try and apologize for my mistakes

But I just want you to know I hope he buys you flowers
I hope he holds your hand
Give you all his hours when he has the chance
Take you to every party cause I remember how much you loved to dance
Do all the things I should have done when I was your man
Do all the things I should have done when I was your man

Girl talk

Sometimes it takes one to know one. I can have hilariously intimate conversations with men as well (Malcolm and I practically have our own language), but there's just something about girl talk that really is just for girls.

Meeting dimps on Friday to head out to the bar, she called me out on my going-out preparation:

   "Oh, you have shit on your face. Is this a 'put-shit-on-face' kind of night?"
   "Oh god, not at all. I just haven't been out of the house in two days and thought I'd try to look presentable. You don't have to put shit on your face if you don't want to."
   "Okay, good."

But then you could argue that it's just because we've been friends for so long that we can just use language like that and get it.  But then how would you explain the fact that I found myself laughing in stitches on the couch the very next day, surrounded by women I'd met only hours earlier?

The hilarity was constant through the night, but there was some time near the end where we dominated the living room and starting talking about dating, weddings, first meets and fashion.  Following some giddy giggling about love stories, someone piped up,

   "Ladies, I'm all for the girly talk, but I swear to god  I just saw a cloud of estrogen explode in this room."
   "Was it pink with sparkles?"

*insert explosion of laughter, couched in pink, sparkly dust*

And then, to close the night at the beginning of our goodbyes,

   "Oh man, I had a great time with you gals.  We should really get together sometime to share some more vagina dust."
   "Omg, 'vagina dust' - so that's why it's pink."

Win

One of my co-workers, GB, sent me and another girl (RGD) an email at work after she had just completed a round of handing out chocolates to the team.

----------

From: GB
To: melody, RGD
Subject: Deals at Rexall

Laydeez

Good deals on once a month lady items at Rexall

----------

From: RGD

To: melody, GB

Subject: Re: Deals at Rexall

you call chocolate lady items?

----------

From: GB
To: melody, RGD
Subject: Re: RE: Deals at Rexall


Nope - I call chocolate delicious.  And I resent that you think I was only sharing cos I got a deal.  I will have you know that the chocs were full price. FULL price.  Such is the milk of human kindness within me.

----------

From: RGD
To: melody, GB
Subject: RE: Re: RE: Deals at Rexall

*mini violin*

----------

From: GB
To: melody, RGD
Subject: Re: RE: Re: RE: Deals at Rexall

*crunch* - me stepping on your mini violin

*boo hoo* - you feeling sad next time I hand out chocs and you don't get one

----------

From: RGD
To: melody, GB
Subject: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: Deals at Rexall


*growl* sound that will follow you as I wait for my chocolate.

*swoosh* sound of my catlike awesomeness taking the chocolate away for my enjoyment.

----------

From: melody
To: RGD, GB
Subject: RE: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: Deals at Rexall

I have no sound effects for my actions - ninjas don't make sounds...

Quote of the moment

A worry shared is a worry halved.

There wasn't a credit for the saying in the book I borrowed the quote from, but this is my philosophy.  Even if I don't receive advice (or receive good advice) from sharing my problems, I can feel a weight lifted from just sharing my burden, and then I feel like I can deal with it head on.

S'no(w) joke

The last few days, as everyone knows, has had the news and weather reports screaming out warnings about the Snowmaggedon looming at the end of the week.  For me, the Frankenstorm (good ol' Hurricane Sandy) saw me out frolicking in the streets with Senorita and the last Snowpocalypse melted away within 12 hours of wreaking its white-out havoc (the fact that we had more than 4 able bodies lying around to shovel it away from my parents' driveway toned down the havoc as well - especially since one of those bodies was from Calgary and kept asking "is this it?" as he danced in a thin coat and running shoes through the drifts).  So you can kind of understand when the warnings went off about this upcoming storm, I was hesitant to call in the army.

However, following the lead of many of my co-workers, I made the preparations to work from home today, thinking that, if anything, it'd save me the GO train fare into the city and back.  When I awoke to the winter-wonderland that had been predicted, I was impressed.  I dutifully logged in and started to make my way through my to-do list that I'd brought home for myself.  As I worked, I couldn't help but watch the snow fall and fall.  I could actually make out a noticeable amount of accumulation of snow from the time I'd gotten up until that time an hour later.  This was is for real.

Two hours into the work day, my connection to the work servers became apoplectically slow.  Turns out it wasn't just me.  I received three emails simultaneously, shortly after that.

Email 1 from co-worker: "System has crashed. VPN won't connect. Will keep trying."

Email 2 from VP: "I've heard the same from the team here in Montreal. Please all take a break and stay safe. For the few of you in the office, please wrap up and go home."

Email 3 from Director: "Was just sending the same note myself. Travel safe everyone...see y'all monday."

Can't argue with that.  Wrapped up and saved what I could, then logged off to make the most (and in this case, that really means the least) of today's snow day.

BTW

I was just on the phone with the project manager of this massive project that I've been working on basically since I started here.  We had a quick chat about a few details for upcoming communications and some edits to some past ones we'd done.  We talked about our plan of attack for some web messaging and finished up with discussion about the invoicing of a side communication through a third party. We were just about to hang up when I heard her voice call me back.

   "Hey, melody?"
   "Yup, still here."
   "Oh good.  By the way, you're doing a great job."

That was nice.

Quote of the moment

This one actually happened a while ago.  It was at our first meeting with our new director.  He's great - he's taking a look at what we're supposed to be doing and at what we're actually doing, and trying to get us help to be as efficient as possible.

   "Please let me know if you need any help at all.  I want to take all the menial admin work off your plate so you can get back to doing what you do best.  You know - tech, writing, marketing, e-..."
   "Just to clarify, that's not the drug..."

Song of the Moment: Slow Dancing in a Burning Room - John Mayer

It's not a silly little moment,
It's not the storm before the calm.
This is the deep and dying breath of
This love that we've been working on.

Can't seem to hold you like I want to
So I can feel you in my arms.
Nobody's gonna come and save you,
We pulled too many false alarms.

We're going down,
And you can see it too.
We're going down,
And you know that we're doomed.
My dear,we're slow dancing in a burning room.

I was the one you always dreamed of,
You were the one I tried to draw.
How dare you say it's nothing to me?
Baby, you're the only light I ever saw.

I'll make the most of all the sadness,
You'll be a bitch because you can.
You try to hit me just to hurt me
So you leave me feeling dirty
Because you can't understand.

We're going down,
And you can see it too.
We're going down,
And you know that we're doomed.
My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room.

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room,

Don't you think we oughta know by now?
...

Just making it through the day listening 8tracks and this song came on.  I don't think I've ever posted it, but I should have.  The live version is my favourite and it actually arrived in my personal library of music after someone put it there.  Whenever I hear it, I don't think about any relationship I've had, but I think of the ones that mystery media-er has had, and it's still beautiful.

A whale of words

Twitter's over capacity at the moment so I can't tweet.  It's not upsetting or anything, just inconvenient that it took so long for the twitter site to time out and tell me it was over capacity, leaving me to think there was something wrong with my internet connection in the meantime.

However, their "over capacity" page is kind of cute...

Old fashioned

Okay, so I knit.  And I crochet.  I enjoy it.  And who doesn't love a homemade gift from time to time?  I really have to make more of a habit of taking pictures of my completed projects (because I've never really kept anything that I've made), but I've made leg warmers, hand warmers, mitts, gloves, scarves, kitten mittens (those were funny) and more.

This Christmas, I probably outdid myself, but with the warm reception that my home crafted gifts were getting, I couldn't help it.  I even rushed and completed a knitted infinity scarf with matching finger-less mitts for one 6-year old that we were going to see after a long hiatus.  When I finished that set and took a step back, it hit me what I'd just done.

I'm about to give clothes as a gift to a kid.  Worse, I'm about to give knitted clothes as a gift to a kid.  What am I thinking?!

I remembered those young days when the uncoolest gifts you could get were those boxes full of clothing that you never wanted in the first place - where was the fun in clothes when you know toys could have fit in that same box?

In a panic, I raced through the house to find something to pump up the cool factor of the gift.  Something.  Anything.  But alas, my house was barren of coolness and the best I could do was a scented and flavoured lip gloss from Bath & Body Works that I used in place of a bow on the outside of the box.  Having done my best, off we went to present our presents.

We met our friends at a restaurant and I basked in the attentions of my most enjoyable 6-year old.  We had lunch, had conversations, had desserts, and then...it was time for the present.  Holding my breath, I handed it over to her and watched her glance at the lip gloss momentarily before putting it aside to tear into the brightly wrapped box.  Uh-oh, my cool was not cool enough.  And then she got to the guts of the present...

...and gleefully wrapped herself in the scarf and mitts and refused to take them off for the rest of the day.

I was speechless.  Not only did she know how to wear everything, but she LIKED them.  Her dad leaned over and explained to me,

   "She's a bit of a fashionista."

Indeed she is.

Back food

Okra was only introduced to my palate in perhaps the last 4 years of my life.  Malcolm ordered it from his favourite Malaysian restaurant and I've loved it since.  Loved it enough to attempt to reproduce the various recipes at home.

But that wasn't technically my first run-in with okra.  I of course knew that the vegetable existed, but learned more than I wanted to about it a long tie ago - back when I still worked at the restaurant, serving my way through university.

I can't for the life of me remember why the topic came up - favourite food discussion, perhaps - but it did and my male co-worker proceeded to go on and rave about just how much he loved it.

   "...and not only is it healthy for you as a vegetable, it's good back food."
   "Back food?"
   "Yeah, you know, back food - it's good for helping you to put your back into it."

...and with the thrusting motions that followed, I knew more about okra - and his personal regime - than I cared to.

But it still is really good.

Out of date

I just clicked on all of my side links to other writers/artists.  The latest post from any one of them was June of last year.  One last posted in 2010. It made me sad.  Then I stumbled on this and was assaulted by a stream of colours and images and I was lifted.  Thanks, Tobias.

Sometimes

Sometimes love is beautiful, warm and perfect...

...and sometimes you just want to punch it in the face.

An act of kindness

I was running to catch the train today - I was cutting really close.  As I ran, I saw a man sprint past me up the stairs.  I saw that man again when I reached the top of the stairs.  He was standing with one foot on the train, one foot still on the outer step, hanging out of the door and waving to the conductor to have him wait those last seconds for me.

As soon as I appeared on the platform, he disappeared, the conductor let me on the train, and the doors swooshed shut behind me.

Thank you, man on the stairs.

Song of the Moment: "Shake it out" - Florence and the Machine

Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues drawn
It's always darkest before the dawn

And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I'm always dragging that horse around

Our love is questioned, such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground
So I like to keep my issues drawn
But it's always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh
And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh

And I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart
'Cause I like to keep my issues drawn
It's always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh
And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh

And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
And given half the chance would I take any of it back
It's a fine romance but it's left me so undone
It's always darkest before the dawn
...

It's been a while and I feel it too.  I got a good chunk of writing out last night.  It just started and it kept pouring out until I was too tired to go on.  It felt good.  I missed it.  I confessed.  But I don't know when I'll get to share it.  But it was necessary. 

It was me.