Getting paid at werk (not a typo)

There are some days where I just want to tear my hair out and bang my face against a wall while at work. And then there are other days where it's all right and I smile from time to time.

S; need help

me: it'll cost you

S: what?
S: I can pay you in gold coins
S: how many gold coins does [this] cost?

me: 150

S: I can give you 1.50

me: fine.

Most would think nothing of this conversation. I didn't. But then I came back from lunch.

The king of fragrance

This weekend, Malcolm came from the kitchen to find me in the living room and accused me of stinking up the bathroom and not doing anything about it (turning on the fan, lighting a candle, anything like that). I denied the allegation. He raised his eyebrows at me and we continued to watch the Jays game.

After another trip to the kitchen and back, Malcolm asked me again if I was sure I didn't forget about an odourous bathroom escapade and I again, denied being at fault. He narrowed his eyes at me, the doubt clear on his face.

After one more exit of the living room, I was ready for Malcolm to return and ask me again. He returned, but didn't ask me. This time I raised my eyebrows. He apologized.

"It was my durian drink."

Cheese-string crisis averted

Part of my little guy's usual breakfast will include a cheese-string (lately, anyway). He likes cheese, it's easy for him to hold, and when he starts getting bored I start a little string-pull for him and he's happy to rip off the string of cheese to shove in his mouth which gets him to eat just a little more. 

The other day was not unlike any other. We got up, got changed and before I put on the coffee, I gave him his cheese-string to get him started on breakfast while I was busy. As was typical, he toddled off to wander about while I made coffee which took me all of 2 minutes. 

By the time I was done, he'd made his way back to the kitchen...empty-handed.

me: "Baby, baby where's your cheese-string?"

Baby: "Hah?"

me: "What did you do with your cheese-string?"

Baby: "Hah?"

me: "Show mommy where you put your cheese-string."

Baby: "Bup!" *puts arms up to be picked up*

me: *picks him up* "Okay, where's your cheese-string?"

Baby: *hugs me*

Great. 

I put him down and tried to retrace his steps from the last 2 minutes to see where this cheese-string had gone so I could re-claim it before it was forgotten and was left to rot in some random corner somewhere in the house.

I knew he'd come from his playroom so that's where I headed first. I checked the floor, I checked the chairs, I checked in his little pedal car. Nothing. I stood in the middle of the room to assess the situation.

If I were a toddler, where would I put my cheese-string?

Then I spotted it. 

Duh, obviously, mommy. What a thoughtful little monkey.
...

For those of you who don't know, this little dinosaur sings a song when you turn him on:
I'm a hungry dinosaur
Who likes to eat
So please feed me
a healthy treat!

I'm going to chalk it up to my little guy just following instructions.

A hot topic

With the outcry at recent cauliflower prices soaring as high as $8 per head, I was astounded to catch this low price at my local Chinese grocer, so I snapped a picture and shared it with some friends who were trustworthy for reactions.

Of course then, the following ensued:

Me: Affordable cauliflower...but at a Chinese grocer...I bet it's an imitation cauliflower

Me: "Caurifrower"

dimps: LMFAO

dimps: that was too good. 

Malcolm: Forget caurifrower, what's Finger Hot?

Nightcrawler: Lol! That's an STD.

I hadn't even noticed.

A true "what she saw/what he saw" situation...

The muffin (wo)man

In an attempt to be the wholesome, ideal mother save a couple of bucks every week, I've been trying to make use of my muffin tins by baking muffins once a week to serve as a quick grab item for breakfast. I've tried a couple of recipes so far and the best one to date was a banana chocolate chip muffin. Being banana, this recipe was great because it also allowed me to make use of all the overripe bananas I was prone to having at the end of the week.

So far, my plan was going well:
1. Muffins from home so I'm not buying muffins while at work.
2. Banana muffins mean I'm getting to use overripe bananas instead of tossing them out.
3. Chocolate chip banana muffins mean "yum, chocolate!"

However, this week, the batch didn't turn out so hot. I was trying to convey that the muffins weren't "throw immediately into the garbage" no good, but they just weren't tasty. Some couldn't understand how they could be bad when there was chocolate involved, some just thought I was being modest. But the conversation I had with Malcolm last night perfectly relayed why they weren't so hot.

Me: Sorry the muffins this week weren't so great.
Malc: Oh, honey, don't be hard on yourself, they're good!
Me: No they're not, you can barely taste the banana.
Malc: These are banana muffins?!

See? Chocolate chip banana muffin fail. Accidental chocolate chip only muffin win.

After the show it's the after party

And usually the after party (of the party, that is...I'm not exactly putting on any [free] shows at my house) involves a mountain of dishes, a buffet of leftovers, further party-activity coordination, table and floor clean-up, simultaneous guest entertainment, not to mention baby-watching. Is it worth all the trouble, just to have a few hours of socializing with friends?

Always.

Besides, many hands make light work and none of the guests could be coerced to sit down and enjoy themselves. Dishes were washed, leftovers were packed, tables and floors cleaned and swept, and the baby not just watched, but bathed! With all of that so quickly out of the way, it was no time before we jammed a candle into a box of doughnuts and called it a cake for the birthday guest amongst us (despite the actual cake sitting a little further away on the table).

Anyway, I just wanted to say that I had a good time with good friends and family last night. That's all.

One girl, one cup

With the cold weather moving in and my tendency to drink warm liquids throughout the day, I like to drink them in thermal mugs, even at home so that the heat doesn't escape as quickly. However, there are only so many thermal mugs in the house. I don't have time to wash a million at the end of the day, let alone the single one I've committed myself to using. At best I give it a thorough rinse before going ahead and pouring myself whatever warm drink I've decided on next. That usually works just fine.  Except for tonight. Tonight my Bengal Spice tea tastes like Bengal Spice barley water coffee.  Boo.

Father's Day

On Father's Day - the day that was supposed to all about him - my dad ran out and chased down the neighbourhood ice cream truck to buy a twist cone for pregnant me. I didn't even ask him to. :)  That's why we have a day for dads.

That's what she said

And really, she said it.  Loudly.  At work.

Our director brought donuts in this afternoon.  My gluten-free friend noticed them go by and groaned - donuts were definitely not going to be gluten-free.  I grabbed one and then visited her at her cube.

   "Hey, want a sprinkle?  These might be gluten-free."

   "No."  She tossed my offered sprinkle into the garbage.

   "Fine, I'll leave you alone then."

I started to walk away when I remembered the best part about the donut I'd picked, so I called back over the cube wall:

   "It's filled with Boston Cream!"

And then.

   "Oh my god, just let me suck all the cream out of it for you!"

Needless to say, we were shushed.

Look like moviestar

It was Malcolm's birthday yesterday and to celebrate, we went out for dinner with the fam and some of the usual suspects.  Malcolm and I arrived with mom, while Brodder showed up with LiMonGuy, and Dimps and Nightcrawler rounded our group out.

We'd of course met up for Malaysian food and enjoyed the usual overstuffing of our faces.  While Brodder and LMG had to leave early, the rest of us stuck around, enjoying the shitty (yes, that's literal) conversation that ensued.  Sometime during our chatting, I motioned for the bill, but it never came.  Even when Nightcrawler tried to sneak up to pay for it, he was also presented with nothing.  Puzzled, I got up to interrogate our servers.

   "Can I get the bill for that table, please?" I motioned to where we were sitting.
   "Oh, no bill - paid already," she explained in her broken English.
   "Paid already?  Who paid?"
   "Oh, the handsome one."

I looked back at the table where of all of us, Malcolm was the only male sitting there at the moment.  I motioned to Malcolm to try to get her to clarify.

   "He paid?"
   "Oh no, not him."

Not Malcolm?  Those at the table who had heard giggled.  So then Nightcrawler?  Since he'd returned to the table by then, I motioned to him and asked again.

   "He paid?"
   "Oh no, the handsome one."

Not Nightcrawler either.  We were in stitches by then.

   "He's tall..."
   "Oh, Brodder!  Were there two tall people?"
   "Yes, yes!  Tall.  Handsome!"

Of course - how could I have mistaken Malcolm or Nightcrawler for the handsome ones?

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?!

Quote of the moment

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

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!"

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.

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...

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.

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.