Visiting Baby Olivia

Paralyzed with all the choices (Ack!  How to optimize?).  I let Catherine pick.  And then we were teased.

Howie: With all the choices there, you picked two of the same pizza?! 

Well, sometimes that's just the way it works. 

The plan was to sneak in some vegetables in the guise of pizza toppings (and a little bit of salad) since neither Catherine and I were casserole makers, then eat said contraband while catching up with the new parents and meeting Olivia. 

We were mostly successful.  Vegatables were eaten, but I'm pretty sure Howie didn't have any salad...

Anyway, it was certainly nice to visit. 

Jazzy said she felt really tired, but she still glowed. Little Olivia was simply sweet!  Very little fussing despite the strange woman sticking a huge camera in her face.  And then, Howie came and made sure she was o.k. 

(Right: Olivia demonstrates great modelling potential for the Calvin Klein baby line)

(Below: Tiny, but still a diva.  Olivia isn't putting up with anyone's sass.)

We talked about travel plans: Jazzy and family to go to Malaysia in January or February, Catherine and family to go to the Dominican Republic near Christmas time... Me, excited and worried about China with Mom.  And Catherine's work (Dandy Randy and latest attempts at shoplifting prevention). 

Our visit was short, but everyone was pretty tired.  We vowed to visit again soon. 

On our way out: Catherine notices some rather interesting construction in the area. 

Cap Ex: Sugar Spiced, Tricks, and Metric

Things seemed to line up perfectly.  There was no Feast, leaving Friday evening free.  Capital Ex was here and magically there were things there that I wanted to see and which other people wanted to see too!  Perfect!

Beth and I meet up with Dave Z and one of his friends at fairgrounds the fairgrounds.  Though not sure quite sure where the stage was, we managed to race through the Agricom (silly me thought they would be  indoors like in a previous year) in time to catch the very start of the Shanghai acrobats performance*.  (Above right: Yay we made it!)

* But I think we missed the bit about not trying these stunts at home...

Ladies in blue balanced, rolled, tossed, and caught various objects with their feet (while lying on their backs). 

Clownish men in chef costumes twirled plates on sticks. 

Followed by a couple in white with an impressive balancing act. 

(Right: In case you thought it was easy, we get a hint of the concentration required) 

Playful tumblers (with funny old-fashioned children's haircuts) made being stuck in a tube look really fun, and gave a bit of a break before another high flying balancing act. 

(Below left: The chairs had been added one by one - handed to him with a pole, and if just standing on top of them wasn't enough...)

More tumblers!  This time they did the tossing, catching, and balancing trick the ladies did at the start - but with another one of their members! 

It was certainly a fun show, and the awe for all of it was only momentarily broken to slap mosquitoes. 

We went back to the Agricom to meet up with Drew and some of his friends at Candy Nation.  Wow, there was quite a lot of candy.  Jelly Belly was there with their jellybeans - set to "Beanboozle". 

Beth: Why would anyone do that? 

And yet, they did make a vomit flavoured jellybean, among others.  (I guess once you've done the R&D for Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, you might as well release a version for pratical jokes.) 

So, a contestant is invited to spin the pointer on a big wheel.  The host gives the contestant a jellybean based on where the pointer lands (pairings included "Barf or Peach?" and "Coconut or Baby Wipes?").  The contestant eats the bean, tells the audience what they ate (sometimes their facial expression is enough).  The host confirms, and then gives them some swag. 

What bothers me though is the tagline for the game: Think you can tell them apart? We dare you!

O.k. they most likely mean "Think you can tell them apart - just by looking at them?".  But I'm thinking (especially since the host seemed to be quizzing the contestant in a "Which one did you think you got?"-style), if I can't tell after eating one which one it is - I don't think you're making them right. 

But then, maybe it's me? 

Before knowing the whole trick of the matter, several quarters lighter from buying candy from dispensing machines, I was eating and sharing a handful of red beans.  There weren't any signs indicating these were "Beanboozled".  But, now I'm wondering if it was a batch of Centipede mixed with Strawberry Jam (not convincing versions of either).  Or was it just "Red"?  Another reason to stick to chocolate.

Maybe Jelly-Bean Elvis is the only kind of jelly bean for me. 

Our group started to part ways, but before making it outside, the weather threw us in for a spin.  A whole lot of rain, thunder, and lightning drove a whole lot of people inside.  The air became much more humid as we packed in.  We decided to wait.  Half an hour later, it was still storming.  Beth and Dave decide to leave, but I wasn't ready to give up on the other big part of what I wanted to see that day: Metric. 

Drew and his friends were in fact calling more people to come to come to the concert (eventually the rain will stop right?).  I people watched, and continued to wait. I chuckled over fashions; the huge stuffed toys that sat in strollers while kids (which I assumed are connected to the strollers) sat on the floor; and the people making mad dashes outside to get mini doughnuts (the only trailer that still seemed to be open and hey, no line!). 

Eventually our patience was rewarded when the rain slowed to spitting.  That didn't mean the concert was still on.  We continued waiting, outside.  I played wing-woman, shielding girls waiting on their own with my umbrella, so the guys could get close enough to actually talk to them. 

Finally, the opening band came out and said they knew we were waiting for something really special, and when the stage was cleaned up, it would be Metric. 

More waiting.  But then: Wow, what a concert!  Emily Haines is one very sexy woman.  She stomped out sparkling in a sequined jacket (that I immediately coveted) and just completely rocked. 

It was a little strange not to be dancing or see other people dancing when there is great music - I guess this wasn't a dancing crowd and it wasn't exactly easy to do so balancing an umbrella. 

I sang (yelled) lyrics along with the others.  Left before the encore just so we wouldn't be stuck in the crowd - and didn't get home too late. 

Figured I would be in some pain the day after, but thankfully I'm not sick - just tired. 

That was a pretty good $ 12 spent. 

Acronymity

Days he's been away: 7

Days 'til he's back: 12
Days 'til I'm off to China: 36

Though Paul and have been talking over (my) lunch hour on "the blower" (actually through Google talk), I've still needed a supplement to meet my DRDBA (Daily Recommended Dose of British Accents).  Listening to BBC has helped with that.

I tell myself listening helps me concentrate while I'm doing some rather boring data entry at work, but I'm not sure how I'd explain it if anyone came over to my cube because I was laughing too much.  Their comedy line-up (my favourite so far being the very silly "I apologise for not having even the slightest insight") has kept me plenty amused, but their articles (or documentaries as Paul calls them) are incredible in number and scope. 

One I recently listened to had me do a mental double-take: What?  Canadians don't have a monopoly on identity-crisis?  The English Brits don't know who/what they are either?! 

Jeremy Paxman's "The English: A Portrait of a People" talks just about this, and sounds like it could give a lot of  insight (with some humour too).  So very tempting to add it to my library requests, but I really should read first the book I already own and is waiting on my shelf: Will Ferguson's "How to Be a Canadian".

Something Official This Way Came

Earlier this month, both Paul and I finished and submitted a bunch of paperwork, hoping for acceptance and approval.  Happy times!  It took so long to collect all that information and it was relief to finally have it out of my hands.  We celebrated with some congratulatory emails (to each other) and a happy dance (me).  And we set to wait. 

Last week, I received a rather cryptic email asking me for money.  I was skeptical.  Then, yesterday, I got a letter in the mail...

I am now a CGA! 
(Pending payment of membership dues.) 

It feels rather unreal - but at least the letter I could hold in my hands made it slightly more believable.  (How did they go through all my application in such a short time?)

There are certainly more people applying for, and the checks more rigourous for PR, so Paul gets to wait some more.  Fingers crossed!

Time with the Buoys

It was dark and humid.  Lights flashed and I could hear footsteps.  And... I'm hit!  My vest shook, and my gun was disabled, so I ran to hide and regroup.  Whatever strategy I had when I entered the maze, I defnitely had to rethink.  The others had gone in packs, while I had stalked off on my own, seeing if I could mentally map the maze (I couldn't).  And so, whenever I encountered another group, it was mad firing, and often I'd be hit before I could make any damages... Is there then really "safety" in numbers?  I got up and continued my stalking, listening close for more footsteps.  More firing.  The round ended.  Girl Indigo was not last.

A drink of fresh, cool air greeted us when we left the maze.  My involvement was just a lucky chance: One of the kids for Kevin's birthday party didn't show up, leaving an extra space for me. It was my first time playing Laser Quest and it had been pretty intense and fun. 

The second time (after a drink break), deciding again not to go for a fruit or chocolate bar code name, Girl Indigo managed to even lead for a little while... but then sneaky snipers got her.  In the end, I was middle of the pack, but happy with my high hits-to-fired ratio. 

After such a work out, the kids were ravenous.  Theresa had gone to pick up pizza and cake and was ready for us.  We ate, Kevin opened presents, and then (full of sugar and idle) they started hitting each other with balloons - just in time for parents to take them away.  A birthday party success!  Alot of original work and worry like last year, but this time I managed to have fun too.  Hm... maybe I won't have to wait a whole year for more laser tag...

Next day: The sprint races!

Arriving at early, Toasters were ready to put in some solid volunteer hours.  We bailed out boats, set buoys in the water, and in general were on very good behaviour.  Now if only they had congentiality awards that day... Instead, we found out exactly how hard it is to race.  Distractions were everywhere, from people standing on the bridge with megaphones yelling directions, to the little discomforts of being wet or itchy from mosquitoes... Coach Blain kept telling us to focus, and reminded us of all the commands.  But it was hard - especially when we could see other boats overtaking us...

We only did two races.  In one we'd been saddled with a steersperson in training - who almost lead us into the rocks.  We came in last for both of them.  I guess if we'd won, we'd probably have stayed around to do more races, but as it was, we all headed off on our own to find some lunch. 

Drew, Devin, and I headed downtown, and after picking up some food, went over to Devin's.  It wasn't a surprise to find he lived in one of the new modern and chic condos, or that he'd had some kind of gourmet dish planned for the Toasters' potluck barbeque that night. 

Fresh figs (one of the key ingredients for the dish) had both me and Drew surprised.  I've never seen a fresh one for real (but apparently they were available at Costco), and Drew had never tasted one fresh or dried.  Devin convinced him to take the plunge.  He liked it. 

After a quick change, I felt infinitely better and a little more ready for the party. 

Music was playing and while Coach Blain worked on chicken skewers (turns out he was a chef at one point in Saskatchewan), Drew danced with Monica in the kitchen that was just large enough for swing. 

More people arrived and we moved the party outside. Except for those of the attached to the game console.  

There was lots of great food (Devin's poached figs with marscapone cheese was exotic, Maylene's margaritas were fun, and my first attempt at tagine turned out suprisingly well) - and we enjoyed the warm weather.  But Julie and I also had other plans that night: TA Tryouts!  I couldn't believe we still managed to dance being so tired and so full of food. 

It's weekends like these that make me think weekdays for are for recovering.  But of course, I'll take it - little nephews and summers don't last forever. 

There Goes the Neighbourhood

I don't think the police officer took me seriously.  When I go through the facts, I'm not sure I would either:

- 05-July, Evening - Several trays of empty milk cartons were taken from our garage
- 06-July, Evening - The rest of the empty milk cartons were taken from our garage
- 11-July, Evening - Someone took the garage clock

This is what I put on the police report, but when it was actually my turn to go over it with the officer, he had other questions.  And so I called Dad and translated:

"...No, the garage door wasn't locked (but it was closed)..."
"...No, not even after first two thefts... didn't think there was anything interesting left to steal..."
"... It was about $ 20 in carton deposits, $ 5 for the clock - and there was the battery!"

I wondered if police officers also get training in not laughing.  Mom and Dad were certainly mad about the thefts, but in the grand scheme of crime, it seems we got by lucky (even though they took the battery).  And it's not as if the person had to "break in".  At least "they" didn't trash the garden too. 

Is Saturday is their busiest day?  I waited for the office to re-open from lunch hour, and there were others waiting in the sun too. 

My immature, but adult, brain amused myself (briefly) with this:

Once inside we were each given a number and form to fill.  I heard those ahead of me review their case with the one officer on duty (car accident), and those who arrived after try to give a short account of why they were there (their car being keyed in the night).  Those too impatient to wait were directed to other stations.

I half wondered if I would hear anything about the other incident on our block.  Just this morning as Mom and I were eating breakfast and heard yelling in the yard.  Both of us ran to the window and saw a woman standing and crying, while a nother woman had been tackled to the ground by a female police officer.  The woman on the ground managed to get up (the officer was a bit smaller than her) and there was a bit more wrestling.  The standing woman just kept wailing.  And eventually another police car showed up and they got the original woman finally into the car.

According to Dad, who's lived here for over 31 years, this was the first time the police have been called to our street.

Anyway, still need to settle a few more little details and then I'm off to Kevin's birthday party. 

Paul is now on his way to the UK.  Well, his flight doesn't take off for another two hours or so, but we said goodbye earlier when he caught the airport shuttle. 

Standing there waving, I thought of Jackie - how she had cried when she left us for the airport.  I could only imagine it must have been a thousand times worse than what I felt (and I didn't exactly feel good).  But, I know with the power of the internets, this won't be as bad as it could - even though it's longest (since we started dating) that we'll be apart.

In other news: Completely unplanned, I got on the LRT this morning into the last car.  Jaclyn mentioned once how much she liked the last car for its view.  I'd thought it strange at the time, but then I couldn't remember being in that car and actually taking note (my usual method is to sit down and burying my head into a book).  She was right: It's a neat experience.

The coolest moments, I thought, was when the train was underground, but the photos didn't turn out at all.  Here's the view as we go towards Churchill (right)- Blogger isn't cooperating...

Dinner at Macky-D's

It was obvious we weren't really going to McDonald's - no golden arches in sight - but my guess for our dinner's secret location was strangely close...

Up from the LRT station, through the Telus Plaza, and there it was: Hotel Macdonald! 

Though I have been there before, I don't think I ever stopped to look at the details of the outside of the building (probably because I was usually loitering...).  Since we were early, we took time to do just that.

Provincial coat of arms decorated the stone arches.  While I could figure out these ones along with their associated symbols:

(Left: British Columbia)

(Right: Saskatchewan)

And was able to look up:











I was and still am baffled by Alberta's perching dragon. 

When I started thinking the female faces looked different from each other (and I was pretty sure these were made by concrete molds)... I admitted it was probably time for us to go in. 

But of course, the fun details didn't end when we stepped inside. 

(Left: Alberta Coat of arms in stained glass, sans dragon)

We did, however, stop the exploring to make our way to the Harvest Room.  I was surprised at how elegant and modern it looked - and how the interior designer(s) had managed to incorporated paintings of Alberta (farm) landscape. 

Industrial Secret
by Gavin Gunhold
(from Gordon Korman's _A Semester in the Life of a Garbage Bag_)

The oil companies don't want you to know
That the average car will run on
Consomme,
If you can figure out a way
To get the parsley out of the carburetor.

After the usual long menu read and decision making, we were presented with a complementary little cone appetizer/palate cleanser (one which I had been eyeing another table's, and thought it was a dessert).  Then came Paul's piping hot consomme. 

Entrees of lamb and duck followed (delicious as expected).  And then (real) dessert: Strawberry cheesecake.  Yum. 

The night wasn't over yet.  We decided to use our relatively legitimate claims of being there for a meal to further explore (and stay out of the incredible rainstorm). 

(Left: Paul eyes the slightly overwhelming flowers in the foyer)

And what did we find?  The Wedgewood room was set up for a wedding ceremony!  And completely unattended...

(Right: Wedgewood chandelier)

The rain had mostly stopped, and it was time for us to go. 

Paul walked me to my bus stop and leaned in for a goodnight kiss.  Despite staying mostly dry during the walk, we'd forgotten just then to "mind the gap" - our heads met between the library's awnings and we were sprinkled with rain.  I don't like getting wet... but this made me laugh. 


  

 

Love, Love... Deuce!

With a borrowed racquet from Mr. Anderson, I ventured out with Rem, Steph, and Paul to play (for me the first time), tennis. 

It's like badminton... but not.

The racquet is much heavier, the ball much bigger (but thankfully moves a little slower), and I have no clue at all about the scoring system.  But it does involve a hitting a small-ish moving thing over a net - and the moving thing is allowed to bounce once first!   



We rallied and took turns being ball-girl or ball-boy.  Rem and Paul played a couple of real games. 

(Left: Colour coordination - another part of tennis?)

Rem kindly said I played well.  I didn't tell him that as a child I was diagnosed at one point with tennis elbow (from playing badminton), which I'm sure helped :P 

What also added to my enjoyment - the story in the back of my head of three German Professors playing tennis: The Principles of Tennis from Alexander McCall Smith's Portuguese Irregular Verbs. 




Anyway, definitely a fun time with added benefit of a bit of exercise and plenty of fresh air.  And though the skies certainly looked dramatic, we didn't get rained on.  I look forward to trying it again (and actually returning some of those serves). 


(Left: Shovelling is sometimes required - to feed the ball-serving beast.)

Photo Notes: Chris had coached me at one time on the importance of including the ball in soccer pictures - I tried to keep the same principle here, but people still look rather like they're doing martial arts...