C and K visit the Mutt-Art

... in which at least one question is answered and another is unasked.


(Right: Lana is corrected.)


To the Pyramids! Celina, Kevin, and I pile into the car. It was a gorgeous Sunday, but I was still kind of nervous. They're both tired of the Zoo and the Art Gallery, but they've never been to the Muttart Conservatory... so I had element of surprise on my side... but how long could I keep them entertained with plants? Good thing Maximillian Pegasus (Matt) was going to be there.




(Above: Lana is entranced by orchids and tropical greens)


(Right: C and K are on the loose!)

(Left: Monkeying around)

(Below: Celina takes the camera and goes wild - Mums, Sausage fruit, flower?, Ocean Creature, Matt, plant)



Celina's commentary on a nude statue among the plants: It's inappropriate for small children.

Matt questions out loud why an ocean creature would be found in an Arid climate, and Celina's inner film director kicks in. She catches his words "on film" and has him introduce the gernanium leaves that smelled liked apple pie, roses, and lemons.


Rolling down the hill and 312 photos (mostly Celina's) later:


And then we all go home. Sort of.

Funny Face

"It has a floppy bottom so you can make it smile in different ways." ~ Rem

First the singing, then the photos. Then I stood in front of the smiley pumpkin cheesecake Rem had made, hesitant with the knife. Quite a bit later, Steph stepped out from another room, "Still not done cutting? It's not brain surgery." I look back at the cake... but it was... sort of... Where does one make the first cut? Should it be straight across the top as if to extract the brain?

Eventually I decide, and we eat (carefully avoiding the whole cloves that made the smiley face). Mmmmm..... I wondered if Rem had remembered that pumpkin pie was one of my favourites. This was pumpkin pie and cheesecake all together. (Thank you Rem!)

Another surprise: Michael got me a present! A mini tripod! It wasn't long before Na was playing with its springloaded action - quite the "self-defense" tool. I used it (mostly) as intended and took these two photos:

(right) Na modelling Steph's newly finished touque.

(left) Rem laughing that I'm using the tripod as a dead-weight (not as effective).

We watched Victor Borge's phonetic punctuation sketch; Chris talked about a recent graveyard tour / excursion; and I flipped through a very interesting dictionary that Rem and Steph admitted to keeping at their bed's side - I'm sure I had some good discoveries, though I don't remember them now. It was a good night.

Mid-Autumn Festival passed by this year without too much fanfare. I followed dinner at home with Theresa, Carl, Celina and Kevin, with reading in my room. But I did come out a couple of times to take glances out of the window to check on the moon - yes, it was there. Dad insisted each of us eating some mooncake. It was tradition afterall. It tasted like mooncake, and I went back into my room. I was just not in a celebratory mood I guess.

Today, I'm feeling... relieved. My money is gone with the news that my co-worker was asked not to come back to work. I thought I would be upset, but instead, I feel like I don't have to worry about it anymore. A little less stress - No need to feel bad about asking for the money back from someone in such a low place.

Instead, I can stress over planning for things. I procrastinate Victoria trip planning by registering for my course (at least something is getting done). I did it early and the class was not full. It's really going to happen.

In which the second last weekend in September is recounted

A Touch of the Blues

Me: O.k. I'm going to turn left.
Jenn (excitedly): I see a left turn signal!

And then there was lots of hugging and cheering (after I parked the car) for I had made it to Queen Alexandra Hall. It had taken both Jenn and Na on cell phone to nagivate me through the University area to find where the elusive University Ave intersected with 104 Street. There were doubts. There was much doubling back and random driving up and down streets. In the end I made it (Thanks guys!). All this for my first Automata show.


The hosts, Edmonton Blues Society, had arranged 3 bands that night. I missed most of the first, but it didn't matter since the main attraction for me was Automata (Matt and Rem's band). I was ready to listen to music and to dance. Steph humour me by swaying with me while she knitted. But I guess the others were shy. Too soon the bands' set was over and our shouts of "Encore!" were met with "That's all we know." Funny guys. Definitely looking forward to their next show.


Another Queen

Next morning was 16th annual HIV Edmonton's Walk for Life. The opening ceremonies wrapped up with special guest Vanity Fair making a big entrance at the top of the City Hall stairs. Yes, she was wearing incredible high heels. No, there was no tripping through her "Get this Party Started" number. Before send us out for the walk, she led everyone through warmup exercises, "In These Shoes", with us volunteers as backup dancers. I was delighted that the pick was a Cha-cha. But I sure hope there are no photos with me in my neon orange reflective "official" vest attempting hips.

My camera batteries die minutes into walk, so I spent the walk, walking. Oh, and checking to make sure no one went off route (hence the need to look official). I also got to talk with some volunteers who were from Urban Bridge, an Edmonton church that supports building AIDS hospice / Mercy Houses in Rwanda. Their projects and involvements were very inspiring. Though I kept my eye out for Chris, the florist, I didn't see him. That was kind of disappointing.

After things at City Hall wrapped up (even better dollar numbers this year), I raced to make it to the library booksale. Several books heavier, I meet up with Nick, who was up to many travel adventures of late. He gave me a present (!): two all-natural window gardens. Just add water (after taking things out of their plastic wrapping), and the lumps of dirt should turn into green tea and flowers. I am touched: he has faith in my abilities. I don't tell him about Marie's cuttings or Erik's parsley.

Celebrate!

RSO turned 5 years old!
We had a party with cake, and snacks, and rubber chickens!

Good: Only one freakout moment, that was quickly resolved

Evenbetter: Checking the mail and finding had Erik sent me a postcard.

Mood is up.

Lost in Translation

Mom and Dad are doing more planning for the trip. The same grocery canvas bag that Dad never gave a second thought about was now being intensely questioned (directly translated): "This doesn't say "revoke against Communist Party ideas!", does it?" I start laughing. There is a part of me that can't believe his question is serious. Why would "Pinko" Lana have such a bag to begin with? And why would that be printed in Canada?

Dad looks annoyed - hm... I guess he was serious. I try to calmly explain that the bag commemorates the 1997 International Volunteer Conference in Edmonton, and the suspicious looking red logo was only a stylised V, not a broken sickle (my guess at a politically charged symbol). In the end he decided not to take any chances. Instead he took my Fringe 2007 messager bag which bore a James Bond stylised gun. (He might end up covering it all up with a patch.)

China really is a different place. At least the China that Mom and Dad remember. I have taken for granted that here we can in public read almost any kind of book and wear T-shirts with slogans and logos blaring, without worrying about persecution. Over the years, I have traded the trained, tense awareness for these things, for a calm naivety.

More on China: I have been reading A Dictionary of Maqiao by Han Shaogong. This is my first known attempt at reading a Chinese novel that has been translated into English. I didn't realise how tough it would be. Parts of it seemed awkward, and I wonder about the translation. I strain to undo Julia Lovell's work and translate the English into Chinese, thinking that maybe I would be able to catch the nuances that way. I wonder if some one in China reading this in the original language would at all feel the same as I did while reading.

It's been a slow read, but very enjoyable. I can't quite tell if this is fiction (possibly fiction as A Million Little Pieces is fiction). Online there seems to be various articles that say Maquiao is a fictional hamlet... but everything seems so real. I check out some of "facts" with Mom. She's (amazed that I am taking an interest and asking about Chinese words) confirmed many of the points. (I still have to ask her if the Luo clan - possible ancestors - were in fact savages as described.) Other parts are almost direct descriptions of the rituals and superstitions I've grown up with. And I can see exactly how the words "applying science" can equal lazy (negative)... and how the word lazy (in another form) can be a proud boastful thing - a symptom of a life lived in luxury.

I learned Chinese through memorization and found it incredible when Han explained that one can actually "sound out" a character. I had been doing it too, but had not recognised it. His example was the character for "time". It is made of the word for sun, followed by a character with gives the word its sound (a homonym). Though he argues that the simplied word disrupts this order. But I would argue that it still has lots of meaning for this word at least - I tend to believe in the traditional form for other words. In its simplified form the word is now "sun" and "inch".

Language can really shape our understanding of the world. At times while reading, I felt illuminated. Other times lost. As I can't define two different types of bitter (there are more) in Chinese into English, I am again feeling stuck somewhere in the inbetween. It's hazy and unclear. I think I need more dictionaries.

In which there are some surprises...

Michael calls me into his office, and we closed the door.

Things have been rough at work and I think... this is it. Something really bad has happened, and I happened on my watch.

He asked me about one file in particular, and concludes he supported me in what I've done to handle the case. And he wanted to recommend me to a working group "Change Team" that was going start in October. And he told me I was going to Victoria for the CAURA conference!

It was one of those moments where I was too shocked to be really comprehensible. In the end though, I accepted the spot on the Change Team (eventhough it was going to be more work), and did a little cheer for Victoria. Though it is one of the new competencies for our annual evaluations, one cannot be professional all the time... Yay!

Neil Gaiman is positively dreamy! (Pun only partially intended.) Listening to his "Fragile Things" and practically swooning from his introduction of the collection to follow. Yes, I'm a sucker for accents. The stories themselves, also very enjoyable. The highlights for me had to be "Instructions" (what to do if you were to find yourself in a fairytale - good to know) and the followup to American Gods with what happens to Shadow. I sure hope there will be more about him in the future.

Been trying to figure out if I'm actually living more, by creating more lives? The past couple of weeks have been been spent a quarter each of: at home (sleeping), at work (um... working), at Erik's condo (stuff), and travelling from all these or explaining the situation. I guess in a way this is a balanace. A momentary, tiring balance. I am glad to know it's not permanent.

There are perks. I can have people over at Erik's and attempt to cook. This week - Jenn, Catherine, Rhianne and Steph come over and try my version of chili (an amalgamation of 3 online recipes), and green onion pancakes from "A Wok for all Seasons" by Martin Yan (who is unfortunately not of Wok with Yan fame as I had first thought). Anyway, it turned out pretty good. Though the surprised was that I had created a chili that Steph could have had spicier :P The super good reception of Wallace and Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit, means I have a theme and a plan for time. Hm... my scheming mind is whirling.

Tiny Terrors

Last night's dance fundraiser was a lot of fun. The event was held by Edmonton couples heading out to Vancouver for a competition. A showcase, some social dancing, a silent auction, and desserts!

I got to put some faces to the new names at the studio, more catching up, and most of all I got to dance. That felt divine, and definitely made up for the all the anxiety of trying to fix the dress before the event, giving up, and heading out at dusk to a strange location (oh, and bad parking technique... almost).

Not that I was planning on bidding on anything, but I still went to up to the stage to check out the silent auction items. There I literally bumped into Ricky. What a surprise! Haven't seen him in so long, and he doesn't dance... but I guess I should have realised that as Mel's cousin, he would have to make a showing. I started commenting on a set of martini glasses that had me tempted to make a bid, "What do you think? Should I put my name down? They are kind of funny looking?" "Um... " "I mean, do you think they look good? I'm thinking of maybe getting them for a gift." "Um..." Only after I'd made a couple more colourful comments on my part did he point to the bid sheet. The last bidder: Ricky. *Lana smacks head* Oh, well, at least he knows I haven't changed much.

The social dancing ended and people were filing out. The auction was closing and Christiana and I thought about placing bids for tattoo / piercing gift certificates... When it ended, Ricky got his martini glasses. Christiana and I were no closer to a tattoo or new piercing. From the crowd (mainly two little girls - dance divas in the making) were cries of "Freestyle!"

With quite a lot of shrieking from those little girls (and jumping and climbing) Dominic obliged and played some Justin Timberlake - that's when Ricky and the kids from the DoDel Dance formation team really got moving. And it didn't end! It couldn't end, the two little girls (small and carryable) started telling off Dominic for letting the music stop. It was one of the funniest images. To silence them, Dominic pick one up, and carried her away.

What a fun night. Only thing that marred it was finding out what happened to S. Her boyfriend went back to Syria for the summer. Weeks before coming back, she gets a call - he was getting married. S is holding up, but I am sad. Another fairytale that didn't come fruition. And there was a lot more drama in the background.

Catherine's parents have temporarily adopted a kitten (right...)

Catching up

Dance season has started without me. Darren and Christiana have been training up a storm. Plus, Christiana had just moved back and was getting settled in with a new job. Between all of our schedules it was incredible that we were able to meet for dinner. The plan: Darren's, the three of us, and *dramatic pause* The Barbeque. Since helping Darren lift the thing onto its stand months ago, we've been talking about a babarque dinner. Finally! This was the night.

We picked up groceries together, and found out more about each other's food particularities (Christiana likes her steaks rare, I like my vegetables cooked - even if blanching does nothing...) And then went back to Darren's to cook up the meal. He totally spoiled us by making sure we didn't have to do anything but chat. And we did.

I was so behind on dance gossip. So many changes! Partners splitting and reforming. Couples splitting and reforming... new people in the studio, past TAs returning... It made me sad to be on the outside looking in, but some of the changes made it all sound a little scary. Our first year competing together was about having fun, going to Calgary as a team. Now it sounds like there are rivalries and grudges. All maybe a little too serious. On a positive note, Christiana is making leaps and bounds in becoming "Miss Independent". I was much bedazzled.

After steak, potatoes, salad, dinner ended with a lovely chocolate souffle (Clarence's recipe?) - a round, soft, brown mushroom cap peeking over from a white bowl stem, all dusted over with icing sugar. A job well done! Me thinks it's my turn to treat Darren to dinner...

Only a week away from the HIV Edmonton Walk for Life, and I'm not motivated to collect pledges. But, am quite estatic to see that 3 of my photos last year made it on the website (there's one with me too). Yes! I'm published! Sort of.

So very tired. Have I taken on more commitments than I can handle?

Another week at Erik's and more thoughts on food: I need to learn how to cook.

Monday night after thinking about and preparing some items on the weekend, I tried to finished off last minute cooking while Jenn, Steph, Rhianne, and Catherine arrived for Ladies' Pick movie night. I was tense. I was trying to move beyond (prepackaged) dumplings. Turns out noodles that are overcooked, followed with pan frying do not equal noodles that are cooked "just right". You'd think they would be though. Right? Conceptually? The girls did eat though, so that was something.

Dressed up to try and feel better. Mood has again been all over the place. It kind of worked. The girls noticed, and Steph asked if it was my "housewife" look. *laugh* Maybe that would help to inspire some confidence in my cooking... maybe it helped to fool their tastebuds.

Definitely appreciating Dad's cooking more and more. One cannot live alone on tuna sandwiches with salsa. Also discovering I'm really particular (hm... and peculiar). Who'd have thunk?

You're rude.

Dad's birthday yesterday translated into two celebration meals with family. The first was lunch at home. Aunt Linda was there. As usual when she's around, I tune out. Quite a feat since both she and Dad are hard of hearing and not lacking in the vocal projection department. As a result, I was only half paying attention when Aunt Linda started on the kids - Complaining that they were picky eaters, that other children were better behaved, that they were too skinny, that their teeth were crooked... She finally took a breath.

Celina looked indignant and stated quite plainly: "You're rude." I almost burst out laughing.

Not that I wanted to defend Aunt Linda. I always felt embarassed and horrible after listening to her thoughts of me when I was younger (I always inspired a "too fat" comment), and just shrank away. It felt great that someone was finally saying something about it. But at the same time, I vocalised something along the lines of: it was just as rude to tell someone that they were rude (especially at the meal table in front of everyone). I just realised the irony.

Celina and spoke in English, and that was probably what prevented retaliation from my parents (I could imagine "Respect your elders!" and "Don't talk back!" had they understood what was going on.) Theresa though did say something, in an angry voice and in Chinese so that Aunt Linda could understand too, "What do you have to object to? It's the truth." Ugh! How horrible. But that comment brought me back to a whole idea of cultural differences related to bluntness. Were Canadians (as Lidia had said before) just too round-about? Are Chinese people (at least to family) more direct?

Truth, doesn't mean right. What Aunt Linda does feels like a sort of bullying. But at the same time, I recognised inside me that it was important to at least appear as though I was respecting my elders by not talking back. And have may be come to expect that the kids are to respect me too (because I'm an elder to them).

Later on while we were clearing up the table and Aunt Linda was gone, Mom started talking about Aunt Linda's behaviour. This wasn't about what she had said to the kids (I'm guessing Mom had thought this was somewhat acceptable), instead it was about other things she did that didn't make her a good guest. It seemed so backhanded. It would have been rude for Mom to point out these things to Aunt Linda directly. Yet now, Aunt Linda would probably never know. And I feel kind of guilty for how good it felt to listen to all this going on behind her back.

It is better then just to be truthful if blunt or to be deceptively silent? Personally I would like to know when I've offended (maybe while being pulled to the side), and I would apologised accordingly (in front of a crowd if appropriate).

Celina had done what I cowered from doing (even though she had done it disguised). I feel proud of her for that, and hopeful that she can stand up for herself. But I'm also worried that she's might lack the savy (which also alludes me) to navigate situations where it's better to be silent. I'm family. I'm probably not seeing the whole picture.

Manners. So complicated... I think I need to read another book.

Home?

What strikes me first is the smell. It makes me think "new car". It's there when I open the door.

I fumble with closing the lock, and put the mail on counter.

It still feels a little strange to be here. But familiar too.

I watch the red light on the phone blink a little while and water the parsley.

It's quiet. I sit in front my laptop with a half memory / fantasy of anticipating someone special will be coming home.

I eat things out of cans. I wait for a full sink before doing dishes. I use the dishwasher as an elaborate drying rack.

It's late and I leave.

I think of residency rules and tax laws. Am I living here? Or is this a vacation?

"You look like a zombie." ~ Co-worker

The Walmart summer photo deal had me scrambling this past week to go through my photo collection and choose the print-worthy. The whole process was kind of sad. CDs and cds of pictures... so few that were spectacular. And yet... the collection did tell the stories... with an ending conclusion: I take too long (too many frames) to tell it.

More upsetting were the pictures of myself. When was the last time I gave myself a good look? The days have become so hazy that even though I look at the mirror at least once a day, I'm registering little more than a blur. Looking closer only if there were unusual protruding bits. Maybe that is one kindness of getting older and developing not so perfect eye-sight, there is always a soft lens on the flaws. In the photos though, I see myself in shirts that are too short, pants that are too tight, and a growing belly. Ugh. I look worn out. Maybe even more than I feel.

It's Elementary

A dramatization of a true story:

It was late. Movie night had gone well with Steph and Jenn, and it was time to head home. Almost ready to head out the door, I shockingly realised: one set of car keys was missing! I searched Erik's apartment in the usual spots, and move towards less usual. Nothing. What was I to do? I look imploringly to Jenn.

"Well, the keys are in the car." I was baffled, how could they be there? We headed down to the car. Nestled in the trunk, inside the cardboard box, among some plastic bags, were the keys in question.

"Excellent, Jenn!" I exclaimed. "But how did you know?"

She looked me in the eye and said, "My friend Lana, 'When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.'" (The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)

And with that, I drove her home. Very glad that the missing keys were found, I thought again: I really need more dummy strings.

Movin'

... in... out... but not on.

"I don't like direct sunlight." ~ Erik's Sofa

Anne's officially moved out of her old place. I learned so much from just watching and trying to help: Letting go of the past, keeping the things that were actually important (such as the heirloom bricks), Steph's amazing abilities at packing, and Sophie's trick of hiding nail holes with baking soda. I'll have to keep those tricks in mind WHEN I move out (as Anne stresses).

Today, another two shifts with the Fringe crew. This time for the holdover shows "Kafta and Son", and "The Power of Ignorance". The special perk for these shows is that volunteers get to watch too. What a combination! The first show asked me to do quite a bit of thinking and analysis of imagery. The second quite plainly asked me to not think and unleash my ignorance power with the "Ig-Master" Vaguen.

With such brain calisthenics, I left the site feeling pretty tired. So I head over to Erik's with some groceries. I'm happy that I went through the "tests" with him during the week. He had me unlock and open the door and get myself a glass - from the top cupboard! The week before, we had Hot Fuzz movie night (very funny this second time around, knowing it wasn't going to turn into a "chick flick" with introspection - and hence didn't get disappointed). I got tested on the use of the television and DVD player. I was quite baffled with so many remote controls, but finding the right one, I kept it in my hand... and took it with me to washroom. I think it was then that Erik had second thoughts of giving me so much power...

Anyway, he's gone. I walk into the building trying think of how a person who actually belongs here would walk and stand and wait for the elevator. It feels pretty strange inside without him here. But I like the quiet. And the internet. And the possibilities... *drumming fingers* Hm... I think it may be time for some dusting.