Me and My Peeps

"Yo, bird!" ~ Malcolm

A return to Feast included Michael's guests: the Peeps. The small invasion caused some confusion for Paul ("Why are they called Peeps?"), which then lead to a small discussion of what sounds animals make (and how they might be different for British animals).

Spurred on by the knowledge that our dear Kirsten had actually eaten, in one night, a whole box (minus one for microwave experimentation), we broke open a couple of packages and took a taste. (Decapitation seemed like the eating method of choice.)

Steph savoured the sugar and fluffy marshmallow. Paul seemed surprised (pleasantly?) by the taste and texture.

Few attempt a second. Instead, most saved room for Rem's toffee pudding (with a good dose of milk).

Sugar overload only seemed to be problem for one.

"It's like Christmas on a stick." ~ Beth, re: phrases to describe fabulousness

There were many Peeps left over at the end of the night. I had thought maybe they would take flight at some point... Maybe they'll still have a chance: Malcolm might just throw them at his students.

An Accountant's Things

Final is over. In a week I'll know the verdict. Last night I took a break and let Chris take me to an Argentine Tango class. It was fabulous! But now, must get back to more studying, and dealing with work...

"I don't want to have you living out of a box," Boss Michael, had said when came to check on my desk cleaning / packing progress. I gave an emphasis-laden look at the piles. He reiterated, "Out of boxes... or a crate." Yes, a crate would be handy.

The timing of my actual office move is uncertain, but I've been warned that it will be soon. So, for now, I pack, leaving the boxes unsealed.

The middle desk drawer, a previously unknown paperclip-sink, was emptied and the collection presented as a parting gift to Michelle. The cabinet had been filled with more interesting things: Socks received from the Funky Sock Exchange, a pair of old dance shoes (I'm still not ready to part with), old accounting textbooks, souveniers from past co-worker trips, dried iron-rich foods from my anaemic days... all moved into boxes or into my bag to take home.

I know I have to make some decisions and to throw some of it away, but in my head I keep hearing Holly Cole's voice, "Everything's a dollar in this box..." and I stop. Maybe I'll just hold on things a little longer.

Quando?

Me: Never.
Theresa: What do you mean? Aren't you supposed to be done?
Me: No.

O.k. it will end one day. But it doesn't feel that way, especially when it's my sister calling me at a day before the final, with the National in 2 weeks, chapters and chapters of studying to go... and a dubious offer.

Theresa: I thought you'd be interested. Gwen says he doesn't have a girlfriend.
Me: Uh-huh.

So, this guy is perfect because he's single? Is that what she's saying? Sook-Yin Lee warned me just two weekends ago in her Matchmaker, Matchmaker episode of DNTO (in honour of V-Day). A guy talked about a past blind date, set up because his best friend's wife was inspired: He and her friend "had to meet" - because they're both single!


Theresa: Well, you have to meet him. Are you free this weekend? Maybe if we all went to dim sum...

Agh! Would she just get off the phone so I can study? I have less than 23 hours until I write the exam. And maybe I'm over-stressed, under-sleeping and such... but shouldn't there be a little more information? A common interest, a common value? I'm not going to expect Theresa to know me, but I also only barely know Gwen. And it seems Gwen barely knows this guy (only that he goes to her store often). What if he's an axe muderer? How awkward that would be... though that would end the turmoil quickly...

Me: I'm not thinking about it right now. I have to study, and I have another exam in two weeks. And I have to work overtime...

Dim sum with Theresa and Gwen. I predict: Stilted conversation followed by Theresa yelling at me (that always seems to happen). But, what if... well, what if this is a good guy? I should at least give him a chance, right? I'd feel much more comfortable if there was some rigourous friend testing and judgement, the "we think you're wonderful, and we think this person is wonderful for you..." perspective. But this rather has the flavour of the "Meet this guy (he's probably half decent), so I can tell Mom I tried to help."

Me: Call me later.

A Wilde Crowd

"Hair and makeup arrive to exaggerate me." ~ Sarah Slean


We were out of cucumber sandwiches. This state was achieved after much (snacking, and) talk of:

1. Create your own personalised dress form from duct tape - Summarised by Audrey from a youtube video: "You duct tape yourself, and then you stuff it." Me thinks there will be a future related party where select (gender rich?) boys will be invited.
   
2. Looking innocent, committing crimes, and getting away with it - The ladies are at a bit of advantage in this area... but the kitties, Aos and Ate, are really the ones who could get away with murder. So cute! What we all could use is something like A Portrait of Dorian Grey
   
3. Travelling - Aunt Audrey was headed to New Zealand, Trina was going to Japan to teach, and Claudia/Elizabeth was going back to Mexico (to soon return and start her Masters).
   
4. Shoes! - As in the version Malcolm was wearing was probably invented thus: Stick your foot on a dead animal, cut, and lace it up.

Though we were out of cucumber sandwiches, the family had done some baking and Malcolm ordered food from Devlin's, and so we had plenty of other tasty treats to graze upon. Micah commented while reviewing some of the choices, "Lambs are just too cute to eat." But I guess quails (their eggs) are not in the same category (though I think they are also very cute).


"It's sour dough, like a Steph." ~ Malcolm

Bryce's jokes kept implying we were drinking something other than tea. Though truth be told, with names like "Golden Monkey", "Marchese No. 10", and "Marchese No. 22" we could have very well been drinking perfume. I sniffed Micah, who as wearing Chanel No. 5, and she sniffed me for Opium.

"I thesp a lot." ~ Mark


I asked Paul if this was anything like having tea in England. Turns out he doesn't drink tea regularly, and there probably wouldn't be so much dressing up expected for a tea party. I thought then: it's good that we, on the other side of the pond, keep things alive and play along.


It was pretty late by the time I get ready to leave. A dictionary, a folder of sheet music, and a book of poetry had all made an appearance. A fire had been lit, and I had lounged it front of it with the kitties. The happy bicycle people had professed themselves as such. And so, another happy birthday wish to Malcolm, some hugs, and we're off.



More photos here.
(Warning: May contain futher kitten cuteness).

Sharing the Kitchen Table

Days Until Final: 4
Days Until National: 21

Angela and Patrick have left to return to Calgary. Their entire visit amounted to a one day trip to escort Daniel (son of a family friend) to an exam held here.

It was as though they didn't even visit. I’ve re-sprawled all my notes on the kitchen table to study. Dad’s here with me with his new calculator (found while digging through some junk under the bed). The dinner plate-sized calculator has both large buttons and a large display screen.

Dad: One, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand… hundred thousand?!
Me: Wow Dad. I've been doing your taxes and I’ve been underestimating your income all along! Where are you hiding it all? Are we actually millionaires?
Dad: *laughing* It must be the calculator… it must be the calculator.

He’s going to try calculating their annual income again with pen and paper this time. Yes, must think about filing taxes after exam. Hm... to have that much money...

Transit Rockstar

I half expected flashbulbs to fire. But the centre aisle on the bus turning into a stretch of runway was, as usual, only in my mind.

This time, it was caused by a dark Kate Moss with long, dark, streaked (baby pink, blue, and blonde), rockstar, just-out-of-bed hair, and dark skinny-jeans with holes and rips horizontal up the thighs. Her ensemble was assessorized with tall black boots with a heel, a black, studded, Guess purse, and was topped off (most eyecatchingly) with a small, pink, Dora backpack.

The outfit was far from sensible - ripped jeans in less than minus-twenty-degree weather with bus stop waits (yikes!) - but it was definitely an awe-inspiring sight at 8:30 a.m.

The walk, over in seconds, lead her to a nearby seat. She opened her large scrapbook/sketchbook, where she began to draw: A dress with a tattoo print, futuristic/spikey heeled shoes... Ah, a designer. And today also, a muse.

A Cruel Accounting

"That seems like a lot of studying." ~ Guy at the back of class

“Some of you look like hell. I'm just saying." Nancy greeted a very tired and sickly Wednesday class. We managed to get through it with me staring, mesmerised, at a shirt that looked like graph paper (green lines on white). It's the last class before the final exam. We did some review and ended things with financial statement reconciliation - "It’s like Sudoku for accountants!” At least that's what Nancy said.

Have been slowly getting through the required readings. Accrual budgeting is a more difficult concept than accrual accounting, and there's been much resistance for the Canadian Federal government (and many others) to adopt it. I can understand the valuation issue for many of the things that would be considered "assets" (e.g. National Parks, roads). But it mades me pause when I read fighter jets should be expensed because they are "prone to premature destruction" (J. Blondal, "Accrual Accounting and Budgeting: Key Issues and Recent Developments"). It's a point that mades too much sense (fighter jet and a canned tin are virtually the same and are treated as such) and makes me feel a little sad.

"A bird in the hand really was worth two in the bush then, and a bird crammed in your mouth was worth even more."

~ Margaret Atwood, Payback

I know I shouldn't be reading Margaret Atwoods's Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth, with all this studying that needs to happen. But after hearing the opening of the CBC Massey Lectures which the book transcripts:

Canadian nature writer Ernest Thompson Seton had an odd bill presented to him on his twenty-first birthday. It was a record kept by his father of all the epxenses connected with young Ernest's childhood and youth, including the fee charged by the doctor for delivering him.

I was hooked. (Though, I did think originally, with such an opening, I was actually listening to a reading of Atwood's latest fiction, which was sure to end up somehow very twisted.) And the book was due to the library right away.

What did I learn?
- The preconditions for debt according to Atwood: 1. Our notion of fairness, 2. Memory.
- That (like in my Mormon / Accounting joke) debtors and creditors are joined at the hip (so both are often at fault.
- That it is "shadowiest before it gets shadowier"
- That there are many kinds of debts, and ways to settle a debt - some more bloody than others (such as "kill the creditors").

That last point reminded me a of scene from a book, that was perhaps by Amy Tan, where a daughter cut off some of her flesh to make soup for her dying mother - a payback for giving her life (though when I asked Mom about this, [Is this a common practice back in China?] she gave me a strange look as though studying had indeed fried my brain).

The lectures / book ends with a story based on Charles Dicken's A Christmas Carol, which in Atwood's usual wit describes a Scrooge of today visited by Spirits of Earth Day (Past, Present, and Future). At least that was sort of good news. Take a listen (links above) and let me know what you think.

Further Plottings

Spider-Pig, Spider-Pig. / Does whatever a Spider-Pig does. / Can he swing from a web? / No he *can't*, / He's a pig. / Look out! / He is the Spider-Pig!

From Erik's, Michael and I walk to Chapters. It was cold. But I had to stop because there was this (right). Awesome!

I stop a couple more times for interesting storefronts, but we do eventually make it to meet with Kirsten before we froze, and she bought the entire store. We wandered, warmed up, and nodded approvingly to the book "Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank".

So, it's Michael's birthday! And this was the culmination of our plottings. From all possible places (with him providing transportation), he chooses the King and I for dinner. We arrive on time for the reservation and are seated in the depths the restaurant. I draw attention to the wall masks - Are they sticking their tongues out at us? Kirsten, not missing a beat: How rude!

Presents were opened (below: duckie takes to water), dinner was ordered, pictures were taken - and then we eat! We shared a curry dish (cooked with a string of peppercorns), cashew chicken, and tamarind shrimp.

Filled with the yummy food and all warm, we venture out again into the cold (with a pocket full of mango candies).

We return to Erik's for The Simpsons Movie which I've never seen before. Hot chocolate (with a dash of something special) and fortune cookies made us extra giggly as we watched Bart skateboard naked and Springfield trapped under a glass dome (Homer's fault of course). I developed a crush on Colin, Lisa's Irish-accented-environmentally-friendly love interest, as most would predict.

We were still feeling fairly mischevious, but tired. We decide not to do anything to Erik's... this time.

(Right: Heart of hearts - the one under bell jar was made of felt, veins and all.)

Anti-V Day

"Prepare to be Scandalised" was the subject line for my first email plottings to Kirsten. I attached this (right), a poster I noticed on the way to class, which was right next to another advertising "Fix your heartbreak, Find a Nurse Valentine's party" (where all nurses [at least those dressed as one] had no line or cover). Both events were quickly vetoed.

Anti V-Day: Kirsten's idea to go and revel in our singledom; (I add) In general, a girls' night. And/or (I also add) Anti-VD.

When our plottings were finally completed, we had our our girls going out for dinner and a movie, a cheesy vampire movie (yes, Twilight).

What actually happened: Kelly was unfortunately waylaid by vertigo, and Beth was working. So it was Kirsten, Cynthia, Catherine and I who went to dinner. We had so much fun talking (Cynthia had recently returned from Las Vegas, we all read lots and lots of books) and eating that we missed our movie.

Kirsten, Cynthia and I decided stay and catch the later (and much longer) Baz Luhrmann's Australia. It is not Moulin Rouge. Nicole Kidman is comically proper and British amid the wild (and dustiness) that is Australia's outback. The story is sweet (though a bit long) and ultimately talked about the strength in letting go. We drool over Kidman's wardrobe and luggage, and Hugh Jackman ("shower scene").

I then took everyone home. Thus ended our Anti-V Day. There was dance lesson, but I think overall, it was very successful. Here's to the ladies!

Valentine's 2009

"What’s more romantic than an evening with Margaret?" ~ Chris

It's the final minutes of Valentines Day and I'm not sure I can call it romantic. It was certainly interesting having started with Dim Sum with family and ended many hours later at Chris’s with Margaret and some of the old Circle K gang.

Margaret and I talked about programs on CBC Radio 1 (turns out aside from Vinyl Cafe we don't like the same ones) and Chris makes fun of us with a snooty accent. CBC is for the people! Not snooty at all!

Thomas, Jeff, Shelley, Simony, Nader, Cathy, all show up at some point and were made to try chin-ups on the device that hooks onto a door frame. I obviously do not do well in this and instead stick to bouncing on the big red exercise ball.

We lazily decided to order Chinese takeout to be delivered. Someone had to make rice. And Nader was the one to do it. The Nader-directed process looked harder than my attempt to make ice cream with Chris's machine. Of course, made all the more difficult with the audience heckling. Yes, it was the old gang again.

So, there was dinner (Cathy: Is it me, or does it seem like they used the same sauce in every dish?), and then we followed it up with ice cream. Thus sated, we took to dress-up. Nader channeled movie star glamour, and then practiced his smoldering looks (to rival "Blue Steel" and "Magnum").

It was getting late, so I headed out.

Since getting home, I took to finishing Randy Pausch's “The Last Lecture” (the book version of his 76 minute lecture Last Lecture: Achieving Your Childhood Dreams). On CBC today, Writers and Company talked about CanLit and what passion and love was (naming The English Patient, Bear, and What Casanova Told Me as “bodice rippers” [or as close as you can get] of the genre). But this was a love story. It was about loving life, loving his family and the legacy he wanted to leave them. Had me, of course, crying by the end, and taught me too. One of his lessons:

When you see yourself doing something badly and nobody’s bothering to tell you anymore, that’s a bad place to be. You may not want to hear it, but your critics are often the ones telling you they still love you and care about you, and want to make you better.

Difficult to hear, but definitely something to keep in mind. Along with "Earnest is better than hip" and "Be the first penguin".

Peanut Butter and Milk Daze

or _The Importance of reading expiry dates and planning ahead_

Celina's discovered our peanut butter is going to expire in April. Plenty of time... except Dad still has three other jars, bought on sale, in the basement. I amended my daily toast and tea routine to include "toast with peanut butter".

Erik is away. I invited Michael over for food Friday, figuring me moping around making cookies, is not a good idea. Michael played a game and collected trophies (I am at total loss about this), while I do my usual refrigerator walk through. What do I find? Two 2 litre cartons of milk (one new, the other almost completely full) to expire in 3 days! Yikes! (Cry of anguish: ERIK!)

I augmented my bachelor food dinner, with a big, big glass of milk. But I didn't force Michael to drink (that would be cruel and unusual - hosts should not knowingly try to make their guests have allergic reactions). Steph was out of town too... what to do?

I started eyeing the peanut butter smoothie recipe on the side of the peanut butter jar... but ugh, drink peanut butter? I can't do it. It's just too scary.

Other ideas?

Hot and Cold

"When I grow up / I wanna be famous / I wanna be a star / I wanna be in the movies..."

I'm not sure how I knew the lyrics to When I Grow Up by the Pussycat Dolls, but I was chanting them with the other kids, and jumping around. It was a little sad. I'm sort of grown up already, and I'm not famous or a star... but then again, I don't think I ever said those things out loud. The song, while kind of ridiculous, overall speaks to being about being confident, not backing down, and achieving your dreams even though other people say you're silly. (Oh, and to be careful what you wish for.) So overall, a good uplifting anthem for all the tweens in the room. Maybe not so good for me.

It was Katy Perry's Hot N Cold that welcomed us to the school gym for another edition of Valentine's Day Family Dance. This might be our last edition. Celina figures we'll keep coming eventhough she's graduating to another school. It would be perfectly fine for the entire family to join Kevin and their cousins, who'd still be attending (Kevin for the snacks :P), but I have trouble seeing it. Even in the year there've been a lot of changes. Instead of dancing for the fun of dancing, there seemed to be great long sitting sessions (in protest of bad songs? or too cool to dance to that one?). The little kids who seemed really happy to see me last year were giving me a strange looks. Others were chasing each other (ah yes, the chase begins early). I suspect Auntie Lana wouldn't be as cool to take to the dance. Or be invited to Celina's junior high dances. I guess we'll see.

Inside the Vatican

Another meeting. Amusingly though, found out that because no one seems to know what our department does, they call us "The Vatican." At least we know what we're doing... right? O.k. I'm not exactly sure all the time, but I know we're not as bad as Zephyr Holdings, in Max Barry's The Company. They don't even know what the company provides! But it's a pretty funny read if you're familiar with big business. No accounting trolls, or an evil HR cat. But when a missing donut is read as intent to overthrow / undermine the power of a department head... things get interesting. I loved how, in order to lower department overhead costs, a whole department decides it doesn't need computers... and heck, maybe it doesn't even need people (cost driver problems anyone?).

My moment of triumph in thinking I knew more than the fictional Zephyr Holdings employees, was short lived. Project G7-300 haunts me. I've let go of the file for over 6 months now, but the phone calls and emails about exchange rates and wire transfers have come back to me. What would really make it all simpler: one common currency. Vatican City uses, Euros, non?

Margaret is in town! Met up with her at Rem and Steph's after acupuncture last night.

Steph made some of her famous hot chocolate with the warmed milk. I shared with them my recipe: Take a bite of chocolate, a sip of hot water, and add an antacid for a dash of minty flavour. I don't think they'll be trying it any time soon.

Rem accuses us of making Margaret talk shop (we were interested in the wolves). So instead, we talk about her latest time-suck, TED. While the rest of us (... me ...) have been rotting our brains with youtube videos, webcomics, and the like, Margaret's been watching talks, "[r]iveting talks by remarkable people, free to the world." I can see it would be dangerous with technology, entertainment, and design all in one place... the good kind of dangerous. Must visit soon.

Acupuncture makes me too tired to interact much. Good thing there is more Margaret time to come.

Eyes for you

and _Other Packages_

It took weeks of planning, and finally Jared, Hilton, Jackie, Annissa, Will, Wendy and I were at the theatres to see Coraline in 3D.

Wow, I definitely don't remember the book being that scary, or colourful, or vivid. Little kids started crying and "adults" (us) were jumping out of seats: A fabulous movie. (Visit the site to make your own flower.)

Afterwards we headed back to Jared's. It was tempting to choose another movie from his extensive collection to watch, but it was getting late. Instead we picked some youtube clips. I finally understand the picture of the present with the hole cut in the side. Dang its catchy tune!

Will returns after taking Wendy home and we pose for a photo with our snazzy glasses. It was like high school all over again.

Allo, Juice?

“Maybe the day doesn’t like to be seized. Maybe the day thinks you’re a little too grabby.”

- Cat of shoeboxblog.com

It was a Feast of great proportions. Rem debuted his new cookware that included a blue... um... frying pan?... whose sides challenged my hug circumference. It was used to cook up and serve a pan of deliciousness that had vegetables and mushrooms of many types.

It seemed like a quieter Feast with everyone tired from the week. However, we did perk up when the laptop was brought out and we were introduced to Powerthirst and Powerthirst 2. Why would anyone (*cough* Steph *cough*) just drink aloe juice after that?

With such high levels of perposterone, and my mention of the covetable Butterdome butterdish, Mr. Anderson makes a suggestion: We should make a to-scale University of Alberta campus out of butter... and use it for an advent calendar. "You could eat Lister Hall say: Aaarr! Yum! 5 days!".

I washed some dishes (some sloshing and maneuvering required for the large pan) and could hear Erik and Malcolm talking about scientific theories, which somehow led to the Lego bible. Michael gave me a ride home and I was happy to get some sleep.

I woke up and it's been so far kind of gloomy. Overcast grey with a breeze. Some Powerthirst would be nice... I want to win at weddings and art too...

When God gives you lemons, you get a new god. Garrr!

Going, going, gone

“Let’s all go to the nerd store!” ~ Boss Michael 

It's Morgan's last day. We had a farewell pizza lunch party yesterday in the boardroom. Sitting around the boardtable with our greasy slices, we talked about what it'll be like at her new job. She'll have a couple of underlings/assistants, and a whole office to herself. I imagine us descending on her one day (with a plant of course). She said she'll call and expect prompt help for her projects (of course).

She made an accounting joke (What do Mormons and accounting entries have in common?), and told us about being sucked into bonding/quality time with her brother because she just couldn't walk away... this would be the Bachelor. *narf!*

She said she'll keep in touch, but I know it won't be the same. I'll miss her office cat fashion (right), weekend debriefs (you did what?!), and good/blunt advice (whenever I'm feeling wobbly at work). The other girls will probably miss: the Daily Hot.
O.k. enough of this sad thinking. I shall simply have to look forward to Bali's Dog-mitzfa. And remember it is Friday.

Edgar

Trudy = Gertrude
Claude = Claudis

Aha! Of course! The parallels seem so obvious now.

Except, it wasn't so easy to figure out at the beginning since David Wroblewski's The Story of Edgar Sawtelle centres around a family-run dog farm and is set in modern America. Our protaganist, Edgar, is an unusual child in that he's mute, but also because he has a special affinity to the dogs of his parents' farm. The dogs themselves are unusual; they are of planned pedigree, an experiment of sorts to create a breed that has... spirit?... consciousness? When Edgar's father dies, Edgar and his mother try to keep the farm together while dealing (or rather, not dealing) with their grief.

The reviews say the writing is beautiful and call the book a classic, which is why I picked it up in the first place. Though I knew (midway) what was essentially going to happen, I still captivated. How would the details resolve? What happens to Edgar when he runs away? And simply, the dogs are amazing.

My short interactions with Serena, Rosie, Taiga, Abbey... have me believe dogs can be smart and they have feelings... however, I cannot be sure if these are merely the ones I project on them (per Jay Ingram talk re: Dog Dreams and Parrot Petulence). Can they feel emotions? Are these like human emotions? (Assuming being human makes us feel things in a similar way.)

The Sawtelle dogs can. The scenes involving training of the dogs was about setting boundaries, about confidence and certainty (just like interactions / navigations between people). The passages Almondine narrates are filled with the different scensory perceptions that you would expect dogs to have (what can be heard, what can be smelled), but also contained feelings of loneliness and devotion, that I wouldn't have believed for a dog.

Maybe it is because the Sawtelle dogs are extraordinary (and yes fictional), or maybe the capacity is really there. I have to admit my speciest nature, and the fact I haven't had a pet may also be part of it. It could be we're all moist robots per Scott Adams, who happen to think too much (or in other cases, not enough).

Either way, this is a good read. Pack tissues, feel smart when you notice the parallels, and maybe look at dogs (and humans) in a different way.

Dinner and a Millionaire

Morgan: Stay away from John Mayer CDs and guys with social activism inclinations!
Lana: What about Yamez?
Morgan: He's o.k.


It makes me worry when, Nancy, instructor and an economist, says "This will be easy for you." And it isn't.

Oh well, at least after class I met up with Yamez for dinner and that made every thing better. He's back from a family trip to Mexico and of course a part of him wishes he was still there. We ordered foodstuffs and talked. He loves Stephen Lewis, Avi Lewis, Naomi Klein... and the Hulk. I didn't know what to say, what do they have him common. Why? He said he thinks it's a great movie and I have to watch it; The Hulk is the best because who else uses their superpowers to smash tanks? Truly, I don't know (I could ask Catherine though...)

It turns out he has a B.Sc Biology. I tell him I don't remember much from the classes, but I do remember an exam where I tried to draw the production and modification of a protein, and after using all the triangles, circles, squares, dots I could think of to show a modified product, I ended up using music notes. (I could have started with music notation and that would have been so much easier...) Go golgi!

When the food arrived, his face lit up. He was exuberant about salad. I had to laugh. He looked so happy when I gave him my guacamole. And he told me how much he liked tofu. And nicely, he did not object to finishing off my dinner, either.

Just in time, we arrived at the Garneau to catch Slumdog Millionaire. What a fabulous movie. Yes it's a love story, with a somewhat predictable ending. But it was still beautiful and sweet and kept me biting my fingers. There was a very good use of yellow (followed by every imaginable colour in the rainbow). The chase scene in the slums is incredible; I was in awe and wondered just how they got those shots. There are definitely disturbing parts (torture, murder...), but like Holy Cow, this movie makes me want to visit India. I probably could fault it for being overly romantic and totally immpratical... but I don't want to be cynical. Also, I felt extremely proud, for identifying the opera scene correctly as the story of Orpheus and Eurydice (and yes, it fits thematically!).

I certainly had a good time. I still want to laugh, remembering the three phrases he told me he learned in Chinese when he was working at call centre with some older Chinese ladies. Can you guess the three? They were:

How are you? (Handy every day use.)
Pork (Important, especially when you're a vegetarian)
I love you. (Ah, indeed, to pick up the Chinese girls).

Happy week all!

Lagano Skies

and _Where Non-Sequiturs Lead_

Mmm... Lagano Skies. Our first outing to an Ethiopian restaurant! Maria decided that since Clarence was in town we should definitely be adventurous. So, Clarence, Maria, Ulla, Dale and I were there last night.

We opened the large menus and got some recommendations from our server to get a good mix of dishes. Decisions were made, and then we got down to the business of catching up. Clarence was in town for a large West Coast Swing workshop. Maria had recently completed a airplane flight course. Ulla and Dale had been travelling again. I had been listening to CBC (Radio One).

While we talked, I eyed the surroundings (paranoidly thinking maybe Jeff would be there...). I suspected the embroidered table cloth and wall art is Ethiopian... I knew was the ceramic cups and tea pot were Chinese restaurant. :P

It didn't seem long before all the dishes we chose arrived one one large platter lined with a sour crepe (right). Clarence and I both pulled out our cameras.

We ate with our hands, unfurling the rolled up sour crepes, and ripping them up to pick from the main platter. There were plenty of chili peppers available, but the actual dishes were mild (as requested). Delicious! The lamb went quickly, and everything else followed suit. We figured though that may be the vegetable choices were Canadian.

I usually try to avoid grease and am not a big fan of sour dough, but the sour crepe that lined the platter was just soaked with delicious juices and sauces... it was irresistable, so I picked away. I did however make sure to even things out by eating lots of vegetables... and chili peppers.

After dinner, Ulla and Dale invited us over to their place. Our group, plus Darren, arrived moments later. We toured the basement and saw how Brad's old room was transformed. We talked about an upcoming wedding, and I finally started to piece together some of the history of a pizza shop that brought a whole bunch of good friends together... Not that I remember the name, but many of the people were there at the wedding. And Ulla and Dale were now plotting a way to get some of those pizzas from Calgary to the upcoming wedding in Edmonton. It sounded fantastic.

Clarence showed us a couple of moves from the workshop (The Titanic is a winner). I sipped a Sprite Zero (yes, this exists, and the reason I try it is because it's novel) while throwing candy wrappers for the cats to chase. Ah, such grace, oh, such beauty...

"Wouldn't it be great to have a tail?"

Well, actually... no. Clarence and Darren fired off a handful of reasons why a tail would only cause more problems, which included:
- Men already worry about pattern baldness - do they have to start worrying about tail baldness too?
- And how about pants? How are you going to find pants that fit and look right? It's just added complicating dimension.

And they probably could have gone on like that for a while... I was choking on laughter.

Maria says, "Bart Simpson is hot." And things start again.