Management was away today. Quiet. Serene. Peaceful. Is it me or is everyone more productive when their every move isn't being scrutinized and criticized? If walls have ears and eyes, why are they missing a nose? Wouldn't it be politically correct, if walls could have all aspects of a face, at least in speaking.
I had a burning desire to accomplish today. Nothing could reign me in. I plunged through so completely with such vigor that I forgot all about my supper. Until of course, my stomach protested and I had to relent. One must! You see... stomach rules mind. If ones stomach is satiated, one's mind can pursue things of greater importance.
Also, I discovered the many inadequacies of carrying large cumbersome objects while attempting to glide in high heels. Quite difficult. Poise cannot be maintained. Must keep in mind for future reference. Such I end my discourse on what I learnt today. More soon. Stay tuned.
Life. So complicated. I guess that's what makes it so very interesting. Some say, its what happens when you're busy making other plans. Possibly. So, I've decided I'm going to stop and have a chat with you. So, let's see what today is like in the Metro.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Orient Express
An adventure in the orient. That's what I call driving in Markham. Its not for the faint of heart. Your car and your person will never feel more precious. My personal favourite for a wonderful morning scare is the delightfully overcrowded intersection of Hwy 7 and Kennedy Road. Cars will come at you in all directions whether you choose to go straight, turn right or left. Its like being in Hong Kong without the sky scrapers. Another personal favourite is Pacific Mall parking lot on Saturday afternoon. Finding parking there is an art. If you can find a spot in 2o min, you are King of the world.
I love shopping for pirated DVDs in Pacific Mall. Phenomenal efficiency. 10 DVDs for $20 and as you hand her the ones you want... she quickly flips one after the other saying... DVD quality, DVD quality, only 80%, DVD quality, DVD quality, 85%, in theatre, DVD quality, 80%, 95%. She expectantly hands them over to you ... decision needs to be made on the spot. You look a bit stunned, but not to be outdone... you separate the inferior losers saying... I DON'T WANT... Enunciating every word as if she could not possibly comprehend you until and unless you say each word clearly with significant pauses. Then of course, you look embarrassed ... either you're just being cheap for not forking over the $20 or you're insulting her by assuming that her grasp of the English language is almost as bad as your grasp of Cantonese. Either way, you walk away congratulating yourself on a job well done. 10 DVDs for $20... where in the world would that be possible except Pacific Mall.
Markham also boasts a wide selection of every oriental cuisine known to man. From Thai and Vietnamese to Japanese and Korean, you name it, Markham has it. And what surprises me most is how they can perpetually remain so skinny. To be honest, it irritates more than surprises but there you have it. Markham... the haven for all things Oriental!
I love shopping for pirated DVDs in Pacific Mall. Phenomenal efficiency. 10 DVDs for $20 and as you hand her the ones you want... she quickly flips one after the other saying... DVD quality, DVD quality, only 80%, DVD quality, DVD quality, 85%, in theatre, DVD quality, 80%, 95%. She expectantly hands them over to you ... decision needs to be made on the spot. You look a bit stunned, but not to be outdone... you separate the inferior losers saying... I DON'T WANT... Enunciating every word as if she could not possibly comprehend you until and unless you say each word clearly with significant pauses. Then of course, you look embarrassed ... either you're just being cheap for not forking over the $20 or you're insulting her by assuming that her grasp of the English language is almost as bad as your grasp of Cantonese. Either way, you walk away congratulating yourself on a job well done. 10 DVDs for $20... where in the world would that be possible except Pacific Mall.
Markham also boasts a wide selection of every oriental cuisine known to man. From Thai and Vietnamese to Japanese and Korean, you name it, Markham has it. And what surprises me most is how they can perpetually remain so skinny. To be honest, it irritates more than surprises but there you have it. Markham... the haven for all things Oriental!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Tiff '08
So, I was determined to attend TIFF this year. In an effort to make good on the promise to myself, I bought a 10-pk ticket set from the TIFF website in August. Tickets had to be picked up from the Festival Box Office, Downtown.
Unfortunately, in true form, I completely forgot about it after that and continued in happy ignorance that I'd have plenty of time to figure out which films to watch sometime in September. And thus I would have continued in this way, had a colleague of mine not decided to resign. You are probably at a complete loss... what would my colleague resigning have anything to do with TIFF '08. No, I don't work in films, either.
I'm blessed with the happy coincidence of having her farewell at the new Milestones in the Toronto Life Building. Luckily the AMC was next door to Milestones and the python-like line up quickly dispensed with my temporary amnesia. I rushed home to recover the e-mail which gave me details about where to pick up my tickets and how to register for the movies I wanted to see.
Not realizing how many people take the TIFFs seriously, I was caught off guard at the counter at the Box Office when I went to collect my tickets. Most of the movies I had wanted to see were sold out. I finally managed tickets for Il Resto Della Notte (The Rest of the Night), Parc, Mothers and Daughters and At the edge of the World.
Il Resto Della Notte - Italian/Romanian
This was a gripping experience. I'm sure I would have enjoyed it more had I been able to understand Italian but the subtitles did it justice. It was bold yet sophisticated. It addressed many issues such as the condition of immigrants in European countries, drug trafficking, marital problems and the difference in classes. It begins with an Armenian maid working in an upper class Italian home in the suburbs. Due to a case of missing jewellery, she is relieved from her position and is forced to return to the slums in the city. And the story dramatically shifts its focus from there on, gliding between three central groups of characters (the upper class Italian family; the Armenian ex-maid and her burglarizing boyfriend & his adolescent brother; and the drug addict/Italian convict fighting a custody battle for his son), weaving a tight web of deceit, insecurity and a hope for the way things cannot be. The film was well made and well directed and the performances were simply superb.
Parc - French/English
I have to say that I was completely lost through most of this film. The director had warned us prior to the movie commencing that this film was a bit of an enigma and it definitely proved to be so. It begins with a boy walking briskly through a park with a golf club. He continues walking for sometime and seems depressed. This continues for at least 5 minutes. He stops at the door of his house and the news blaring on television seems to be about vandalism in various parts of France. The story continues in this fashion for awhile. The french upper class family is trying to cope with the son's depression (he wants to be a vagrant, he is dissatisfied with the world and he was cut from his soccer team at school). In the meantime, there is an introduction of a middle-aged, married man named Paul, who suffers from extreme self-loathing and is in a dysfunctional relationship with his wife whose purpose in life seems to be - to remain in a perpetual state of unhappiness. Between depression and attempted Crucifixion in a gated community, the movie seems unbelievably long and ill-contrived.
Mothers and Daughters - English
Originally, I expected this movie to explore the warm yet turbulent relationship between mothers and daughters. The movie was quite different. It was like a documentary exploring the the internal relationship between 3 pairs of people who are eventually all connected to each other in some way. The 1st pair - an established, whimsical writer and her unemployed, poetic daughter who have a violent parasitic relationship that they just cannot seem to grow out of. The 2nd pair - a quiet, nervous, conservative housewife and her independent, focused daughter who is a psychiatrist. The 50-something father leaves the mother to start a new family, leaving the mother at a complete loss as to how to go on living. The daughter who was close to her father feels betrayed, and is now burdened with the sense of responsibility towards her mum who she now has to help take the next step in life. The 3rd pair - a independent native woman with a painting business who lost her daughter to drugs and is looking for her grandchild, lends assistance and support to her client, a young single professional who finds herself pregnant but cannot relate to motherhood as her birth mother had given her up for adoption. All three pairs are connected to each other in this documentary-like movie about the dysfunctional relationships between mothers and daughters. I found myself to be a bit dissatisfied as the movie only concentrated on maternal relationships that had gone wrong. It would have been nice to see a good relationship represented as well.
At the Edge of the World - English
This was a brilliant documentary about the Sea Shepherd's quest to save Whales in the Ross Sea. The crew represent a group of people who are against illegal whaling in various parts of the world. With their limited resources, they make an effort to prevent poaching in whale sanctuaries. The purpose of the initial documentary was not for televising during the Toronto International Film Festival but to show the world how the Japanese are violating International treaties in the Ross Sea by whale hunting under the pretext of research. The cinematography was stunning, the adventure was captivating and the premise was unconventional. Unfortunately, though they did everything from ramming into the Japanese vessels to stink bombing them, the Japanese were not deterred. They held the Japanese shipmates under citizen's arrest for violating international treaties but Japan was not reprimanded for their illegal whale hunting as they are a G8 country and a worthy adversary. Currently, the Japanese "research" ships are still sailing the ROSS sea, hunting whales, and are accompanied by the Japanese military to prevent any interference from organizations like the Sea Shepherd. Whales are now an endangered species and hunting them is illegal everywhere. Much like seal hunting in Canada which is inhumane but Canada has yet to make it illegal. For more information about the Sea Sheppard, please refer to http://www.seashepherd.org/
All in all, the TIFF 08 was an eye opener and I am waiting with bated breath for TIFF 09. Will be better prepared this time around to attack the box office :)
We do it all for the love of film!
Unfortunately, in true form, I completely forgot about it after that and continued in happy ignorance that I'd have plenty of time to figure out which films to watch sometime in September. And thus I would have continued in this way, had a colleague of mine not decided to resign. You are probably at a complete loss... what would my colleague resigning have anything to do with TIFF '08. No, I don't work in films, either.
I'm blessed with the happy coincidence of having her farewell at the new Milestones in the Toronto Life Building. Luckily the AMC was next door to Milestones and the python-like line up quickly dispensed with my temporary amnesia. I rushed home to recover the e-mail which gave me details about where to pick up my tickets and how to register for the movies I wanted to see.
Not realizing how many people take the TIFFs seriously, I was caught off guard at the counter at the Box Office when I went to collect my tickets. Most of the movies I had wanted to see were sold out. I finally managed tickets for Il Resto Della Notte (The Rest of the Night), Parc, Mothers and Daughters and At the edge of the World.
Il Resto Della Notte - Italian/Romanian
This was a gripping experience. I'm sure I would have enjoyed it more had I been able to understand Italian but the subtitles did it justice. It was bold yet sophisticated. It addressed many issues such as the condition of immigrants in European countries, drug trafficking, marital problems and the difference in classes. It begins with an Armenian maid working in an upper class Italian home in the suburbs. Due to a case of missing jewellery, she is relieved from her position and is forced to return to the slums in the city. And the story dramatically shifts its focus from there on, gliding between three central groups of characters (the upper class Italian family; the Armenian ex-maid and her burglarizing boyfriend & his adolescent brother; and the drug addict/Italian convict fighting a custody battle for his son), weaving a tight web of deceit, insecurity and a hope for the way things cannot be. The film was well made and well directed and the performances were simply superb.
Parc - French/English
I have to say that I was completely lost through most of this film. The director had warned us prior to the movie commencing that this film was a bit of an enigma and it definitely proved to be so. It begins with a boy walking briskly through a park with a golf club. He continues walking for sometime and seems depressed. This continues for at least 5 minutes. He stops at the door of his house and the news blaring on television seems to be about vandalism in various parts of France. The story continues in this fashion for awhile. The french upper class family is trying to cope with the son's depression (he wants to be a vagrant, he is dissatisfied with the world and he was cut from his soccer team at school). In the meantime, there is an introduction of a middle-aged, married man named Paul, who suffers from extreme self-loathing and is in a dysfunctional relationship with his wife whose purpose in life seems to be - to remain in a perpetual state of unhappiness. Between depression and attempted Crucifixion in a gated community, the movie seems unbelievably long and ill-contrived.
Mothers and Daughters - English
Originally, I expected this movie to explore the warm yet turbulent relationship between mothers and daughters. The movie was quite different. It was like a documentary exploring the the internal relationship between 3 pairs of people who are eventually all connected to each other in some way. The 1st pair - an established, whimsical writer and her unemployed, poetic daughter who have a violent parasitic relationship that they just cannot seem to grow out of. The 2nd pair - a quiet, nervous, conservative housewife and her independent, focused daughter who is a psychiatrist. The 50-something father leaves the mother to start a new family, leaving the mother at a complete loss as to how to go on living. The daughter who was close to her father feels betrayed, and is now burdened with the sense of responsibility towards her mum who she now has to help take the next step in life. The 3rd pair - a independent native woman with a painting business who lost her daughter to drugs and is looking for her grandchild, lends assistance and support to her client, a young single professional who finds herself pregnant but cannot relate to motherhood as her birth mother had given her up for adoption. All three pairs are connected to each other in this documentary-like movie about the dysfunctional relationships between mothers and daughters. I found myself to be a bit dissatisfied as the movie only concentrated on maternal relationships that had gone wrong. It would have been nice to see a good relationship represented as well.
At the Edge of the World - English
This was a brilliant documentary about the Sea Shepherd's quest to save Whales in the Ross Sea. The crew represent a group of people who are against illegal whaling in various parts of the world. With their limited resources, they make an effort to prevent poaching in whale sanctuaries. The purpose of the initial documentary was not for televising during the Toronto International Film Festival but to show the world how the Japanese are violating International treaties in the Ross Sea by whale hunting under the pretext of research. The cinematography was stunning, the adventure was captivating and the premise was unconventional. Unfortunately, though they did everything from ramming into the Japanese vessels to stink bombing them, the Japanese were not deterred. They held the Japanese shipmates under citizen's arrest for violating international treaties but Japan was not reprimanded for their illegal whale hunting as they are a G8 country and a worthy adversary. Currently, the Japanese "research" ships are still sailing the ROSS sea, hunting whales, and are accompanied by the Japanese military to prevent any interference from organizations like the Sea Shepherd. Whales are now an endangered species and hunting them is illegal everywhere. Much like seal hunting in Canada which is inhumane but Canada has yet to make it illegal. For more information about the Sea Sheppard, please refer to http://www.seashepherd.org/
All in all, the TIFF 08 was an eye opener and I am waiting with bated breath for TIFF 09. Will be better prepared this time around to attack the box office :)
We do it all for the love of film!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
To sleep or not to sleep, that is the question!
So I awoke to a sense of vagrant disinterest this morning. I did not want to climb out of bed. Furthermore, I did not want to inch myself to the beckoning water closet. And least of all, did not want to primp and preen myself in order to get to work. Work... hm... are you sure it is absolutely necessary to go to work every morning?
I think not. The occasional faux sick day should be completely acceptable. Especially when the lazy warmth of the rising sun is embracing the comfortable cushiony nook of nightly repose. I slip my hand out from under the covers and reach into the warm rays breaking through the dark reaches of my room. I pull at nothing in particular and sink back into the billowing goose down comforter. I close my eyes and hope that night will return so I can enjoy a few more moments of dreamy respite. But the light has now shifted to my face and I cannot pretend...
I drag my feet to one side and wait. Perhaps I shall be lucky and there might be a few more minutes to spare in idle splendour but one glance at the despicable alarm clock is enough to ensure that night's sweet spell must wane at once and be followed swiftly by a flurry of instant activity. But my lethargic body has other ideas in mind. My weight shifts to allow my body to slowly inch itself to the cold, sharp edges of the bed. I shiver as the comforter shifts and more uncovered flesh is exposed to the crisp air blowing from the tornado-like motions of a portable fan. I sigh and lower my lashes, to protect my reluctant eyes from engaging the world that seems to be unravelling around me.
And then comes a sharp female shriek that could put a wild west damsel to shame and I bolt upright in bed. I am now awake.
I think not. The occasional faux sick day should be completely acceptable. Especially when the lazy warmth of the rising sun is embracing the comfortable cushiony nook of nightly repose. I slip my hand out from under the covers and reach into the warm rays breaking through the dark reaches of my room. I pull at nothing in particular and sink back into the billowing goose down comforter. I close my eyes and hope that night will return so I can enjoy a few more moments of dreamy respite. But the light has now shifted to my face and I cannot pretend...
I drag my feet to one side and wait. Perhaps I shall be lucky and there might be a few more minutes to spare in idle splendour but one glance at the despicable alarm clock is enough to ensure that night's sweet spell must wane at once and be followed swiftly by a flurry of instant activity. But my lethargic body has other ideas in mind. My weight shifts to allow my body to slowly inch itself to the cold, sharp edges of the bed. I shiver as the comforter shifts and more uncovered flesh is exposed to the crisp air blowing from the tornado-like motions of a portable fan. I sigh and lower my lashes, to protect my reluctant eyes from engaging the world that seems to be unravelling around me.
And then comes a sharp female shriek that could put a wild west damsel to shame and I bolt upright in bed. I am now awake.
Monday, August 4, 2008
A state of affairs
The American dream. Millions of people all around the world strive to be part of it. Those in third world countries watch Hollywood blockbusters and imagine a world with no hunger, no suffering, no struggling for existence and no meaningless mortality. Sounds very la vie en rose, doesn't it?
Ever speak to a Mexican or Canadian about their American Ally and most will turn up their noses and scoff. Majority of the world's population does not look upon Americans kindly. Most like myself, find the average American arrogant, ignorant, rude and unbelievably self absorbed. In matters of politics, the evil eye is more in accordance then the acknowledging nod. The Bush administration doesn't quite comprehend the concept of foreign policy. It's really not their fault. I mean, you can't really be expected to understand the world if you've never had the courage to leave Texas and explore it.
Be that as it may. This new fascination with Iran... Really? Now that the US has successfully destroyed the millennia old civilization of Badhdad, best turn their attention to the neighbouring Persians. Hiroshima & Nagasaki, Vietnam and South Korea weren't enough to allow the Americans to see that their interference in cultures they did not understand, came to no avail. They claim that they are liberating people and de-clawing terrorists by destroying weapons of mass destruction.
Ever wonder how many weapons of Mass Destruction exist in the US today? They are the only ones that has ever used them in full combat against another country (Japan). What is so wrong about the rest of us defending ourselves in the same way the US defends itself. Especially the Middle East. They've already raped and pillaged Iraq. Now they're after Iran. How is it that, their economy is on a sharp decline yet they seem to constantly be in funds such that they can propagate war and make threats at the drop of a hat.
I think the world should rise up and say Nay. I think that the United Nations needs new blood. I think the US is getting a taste of their own medicine. What does a people know about the value of life if they've never had to fight for existence or justice on their own soil. What gives one country the right to tell another how to live under threat of invasion or destruction. To impose their will on those, who do not have the resources to fight back. Patriotism, Totaliarinism or Terrorism... its a matter of perspective.
Every great nation/civilization has fallen. History always repeats itself. The meek will inherit the earth and it will all end in a whimper.
Ever speak to a Mexican or Canadian about their American Ally and most will turn up their noses and scoff. Majority of the world's population does not look upon Americans kindly. Most like myself, find the average American arrogant, ignorant, rude and unbelievably self absorbed. In matters of politics, the evil eye is more in accordance then the acknowledging nod. The Bush administration doesn't quite comprehend the concept of foreign policy. It's really not their fault. I mean, you can't really be expected to understand the world if you've never had the courage to leave Texas and explore it.
Be that as it may. This new fascination with Iran... Really? Now that the US has successfully destroyed the millennia old civilization of Badhdad, best turn their attention to the neighbouring Persians. Hiroshima & Nagasaki, Vietnam and South Korea weren't enough to allow the Americans to see that their interference in cultures they did not understand, came to no avail. They claim that they are liberating people and de-clawing terrorists by destroying weapons of mass destruction.
Ever wonder how many weapons of Mass Destruction exist in the US today? They are the only ones that has ever used them in full combat against another country (Japan). What is so wrong about the rest of us defending ourselves in the same way the US defends itself. Especially the Middle East. They've already raped and pillaged Iraq. Now they're after Iran. How is it that, their economy is on a sharp decline yet they seem to constantly be in funds such that they can propagate war and make threats at the drop of a hat.
I think the world should rise up and say Nay. I think that the United Nations needs new blood. I think the US is getting a taste of their own medicine. What does a people know about the value of life if they've never had to fight for existence or justice on their own soil. What gives one country the right to tell another how to live under threat of invasion or destruction. To impose their will on those, who do not have the resources to fight back. Patriotism, Totaliarinism or Terrorism... its a matter of perspective.
Every great nation/civilization has fallen. History always repeats itself. The meek will inherit the earth and it will all end in a whimper.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
A bit of gossip
He said. She said. Notice how there is so much to talk about and yet, nothing is said at all.
So many interesting things are happening around the world as we speak... global warming, terrorism, Olympics 2008, escalating gas prices, sinking economy and so on and so forth. But the words that escape our lips hour after hour and supplement the stratosphere, are rarely worth transmitting.
Gossip is as old as the origins of human language. Much like the mosquitoes from the Jurassic period, it has survived war, famine and the industrial revolution and has ingrained itself so completely into today's society that often times, one's nighttime reading consists of a judicious magazine pertaining to the sordid affairs of those poor beings who were unfortunate enough to be remotely famous.
Poor Britney's bottom has suffered such ridicule that I wonder how it dares to expose itself, even for a daily cleaning. Let's not forget Richard Gere's poor judgement on kissing an Indian actress. One's aim for fame should not include burning effigies in every slum in India. Or poor Obama running for office. Its really not his fault that his name rhymes with Osama.
But the tabloids have nothing on your everyday gossip. Its positively electric. Writers out there would really benefit from tapping into this useful resource. The conversation on either end of the mobile or chatroom is sizzling, captivating and positively mind blowing. From affairs at the workplace to terminating pregnancies, the conversation is unbelievably riveting and spreads faster then fire in an acre of hay.
Why watch television? Look around you... Life is entertaining! ;)
So many interesting things are happening around the world as we speak... global warming, terrorism, Olympics 2008, escalating gas prices, sinking economy and so on and so forth. But the words that escape our lips hour after hour and supplement the stratosphere, are rarely worth transmitting.
Gossip is as old as the origins of human language. Much like the mosquitoes from the Jurassic period, it has survived war, famine and the industrial revolution and has ingrained itself so completely into today's society that often times, one's nighttime reading consists of a judicious magazine pertaining to the sordid affairs of those poor beings who were unfortunate enough to be remotely famous.
Poor Britney's bottom has suffered such ridicule that I wonder how it dares to expose itself, even for a daily cleaning. Let's not forget Richard Gere's poor judgement on kissing an Indian actress. One's aim for fame should not include burning effigies in every slum in India. Or poor Obama running for office. Its really not his fault that his name rhymes with Osama.
But the tabloids have nothing on your everyday gossip. Its positively electric. Writers out there would really benefit from tapping into this useful resource. The conversation on either end of the mobile or chatroom is sizzling, captivating and positively mind blowing. From affairs at the workplace to terminating pregnancies, the conversation is unbelievably riveting and spreads faster then fire in an acre of hay.
Why watch television? Look around you... Life is entertaining! ;)
Friday, July 25, 2008
I despair
I feel a bit lost today. As if a door has been closed on me. I'm in darkness. No shapes. No contours. No shadows. Not a glimmer of light.
I feel like I need to conserve what energy I have left. I'm on the edge of a precipice. One more step, and I'll be diving into an eternal abyss. I'm screaming in earnest but there is no sound. Like the starling in Lawrence Sterne's A Sentimental Journey, I seem to keep repeating... "I can't get out". I feel trapped. Shackled.
I had an incident in the office yesterday. She said, "I'm giving you professional advice because I am concerned for you and the seat you sit in." Exactly what does that mean? Does that mean, that her aim is to get me fired or does it mean that she thinks that that outcome is definitely coming my way. She said several other things but I'm just transfixed by that sentence. I cannot seem to bend my mind into thinking of anything else. Thoughts flutter in every direction and somehow just keep coming back to this sentence. I am not upset. Nor am I afraid should that be on the agenda. I'm just appalled that anyone in a managerial position could talk to anyone that way. I don't even report to her.
I'm at a loss. What should I do? Look for work elsewhere? If so, where? Doing what exactly? I feel threatened. Its an odd sensation... of imaginary walls closing in on you. Of there being no windows or doors. No light. No air. I cannot sleep... my thoughts have been kidnapped by an omnipresent sentence. I cannot escape from its clutches. I cannot breathe. I cannot win.
I feel like I need to conserve what energy I have left. I'm on the edge of a precipice. One more step, and I'll be diving into an eternal abyss. I'm screaming in earnest but there is no sound. Like the starling in Lawrence Sterne's A Sentimental Journey, I seem to keep repeating... "I can't get out". I feel trapped. Shackled.
I had an incident in the office yesterday. She said, "I'm giving you professional advice because I am concerned for you and the seat you sit in." Exactly what does that mean? Does that mean, that her aim is to get me fired or does it mean that she thinks that that outcome is definitely coming my way. She said several other things but I'm just transfixed by that sentence. I cannot seem to bend my mind into thinking of anything else. Thoughts flutter in every direction and somehow just keep coming back to this sentence. I am not upset. Nor am I afraid should that be on the agenda. I'm just appalled that anyone in a managerial position could talk to anyone that way. I don't even report to her.
I'm at a loss. What should I do? Look for work elsewhere? If so, where? Doing what exactly? I feel threatened. Its an odd sensation... of imaginary walls closing in on you. Of there being no windows or doors. No light. No air. I cannot sleep... my thoughts have been kidnapped by an omnipresent sentence. I cannot escape from its clutches. I cannot breathe. I cannot win.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
The printjob that never came.
She looked distraught! Alright... I'll be honest... she looked constipated. Its that look of "Goodness! I really need to go!" ... that was etched in pronounced wrinkles on her face as she stared at the printer. I always wonder at people who stare blankly at inanimate objects... that look of frustration really doesn't serve a purpose. Its almost like they expect the object in question to leap into action and perform some bizarre miracle worthy of NASA's careful consideration. And truth be told, all such people are always severely disappointed. So, why do it, you ask? Because in a moment of panic, the human brain suffers from selective amnesia and forgets how to multi-task.
At the moment, she (we'll refer to her as Ms. X) was frantically awaiting a 11x17 color print job of a status report for the Vice President of Marketing. Ms. X looked about ready to cry. I thought it was quite funny that a machine which was 1/3 the size of Ms. X had the remarkable ability to reduce her to a sea of tears. While I was in the midst of suppressing an irrepressible giggle, I heard a loud bang. Tears had been swiftly replaced by rage. Ms. X was in the process of reprimanding the table that supported the uncompromising printer with a swift but solid kick. I guess... sorrow + frustration = anger.
To my surprise I found that the powerful kick of a dainty yet angry Marketing professional can move planets but not print jobs. The table leg that had suffered the insult, buckled; causing the now unstable table to lean to the side; thus causing the printer to slide in that direction; causing the power cable of the printer to stiffen and unplug itself from the socket; causing the printer to be drained of all power; thus causing the print job to be lost forever. And thus, anger + disappointment = depths of despair. There were rivers of tears now and some choice language that is not intended for all audiences. Needless to say, we all wish the elusive print job all the best in its future endeavours.
At the moment, she (we'll refer to her as Ms. X) was frantically awaiting a 11x17 color print job of a status report for the Vice President of Marketing. Ms. X looked about ready to cry. I thought it was quite funny that a machine which was 1/3 the size of Ms. X had the remarkable ability to reduce her to a sea of tears. While I was in the midst of suppressing an irrepressible giggle, I heard a loud bang. Tears had been swiftly replaced by rage. Ms. X was in the process of reprimanding the table that supported the uncompromising printer with a swift but solid kick. I guess... sorrow + frustration = anger.
To my surprise I found that the powerful kick of a dainty yet angry Marketing professional can move planets but not print jobs. The table leg that had suffered the insult, buckled; causing the now unstable table to lean to the side; thus causing the printer to slide in that direction; causing the power cable of the printer to stiffen and unplug itself from the socket; causing the printer to be drained of all power; thus causing the print job to be lost forever. And thus, anger + disappointment = depths of despair. There were rivers of tears now and some choice language that is not intended for all audiences. Needless to say, we all wish the elusive print job all the best in its future endeavours.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Corner Gas?
Gas prices are killing me softly. I'm a nervous wreck every single time the little hand that looks like a mini windshield wiper hits the 3rd quarter on the dial.
I have to admit I'm one of those silly people who has a separate pair of gloves in the car for weekly refills. The fuel cap is always so stubborn that once you've managed to turn it by a cm, your triceps, biceps and deltoids are giving raised eyebrows the impression that you indulge in competitive body building. And of course... every time you're out of that car, every bug known to man declares hunting season on you. How on earth are you expected to get that silly nozzle to fit when you're desperately trying to swat the mosquitoes and curse the day insects inherited the earth. I mean... even multi-tasking has its limits.
If rendezvous at Petro-Canada in the summer isn't blissful enough... filling 'er up in the winter is such a joy. Its like the wind has a vendetta against you... the moment you step out of the car... wham ... its starts to blow and doesn't quit until you're a shivering heap, devoid of any sensation in any of your extremities... then you slowly ease yourself into the warmth of your semi warm car and with a speed that would put a cheetah to shame, turn the dial on your dashboard to full... so the heat can thaw you from the freezer burn you just received.
I tried to carpool, take public transit and even walk... anything to prevent venturing into the depths of Petroleum hell but to no avail. Suburbia is not for the pedestrian unless the pedestrian is looking for neither quality nor quantity of life. And thus the battle of the pump continues.
I have to admit I'm one of those silly people who has a separate pair of gloves in the car for weekly refills. The fuel cap is always so stubborn that once you've managed to turn it by a cm, your triceps, biceps and deltoids are giving raised eyebrows the impression that you indulge in competitive body building. And of course... every time you're out of that car, every bug known to man declares hunting season on you. How on earth are you expected to get that silly nozzle to fit when you're desperately trying to swat the mosquitoes and curse the day insects inherited the earth. I mean... even multi-tasking has its limits.
If rendezvous at Petro-Canada in the summer isn't blissful enough... filling 'er up in the winter is such a joy. Its like the wind has a vendetta against you... the moment you step out of the car... wham ... its starts to blow and doesn't quit until you're a shivering heap, devoid of any sensation in any of your extremities... then you slowly ease yourself into the warmth of your semi warm car and with a speed that would put a cheetah to shame, turn the dial on your dashboard to full... so the heat can thaw you from the freezer burn you just received.
I tried to carpool, take public transit and even walk... anything to prevent venturing into the depths of Petroleum hell but to no avail. Suburbia is not for the pedestrian unless the pedestrian is looking for neither quality nor quantity of life. And thus the battle of the pump continues.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Lunch in the summer
"I'm stepping out for lunch. Should you need me, I'm on my cell." A common phrase for office folk stepping out for a quick bite, a bout of fresh air or a secret rendezvous. Ever wonder where they go? In the GTA, it could be a date with the salad bar at Longo's, drink on the patio at Jack Astor's, a quick workout at the local gym for the bulge-conscious, schmoozing with the boss over Italian or a tete-a-tete to share office gossip over Pho. With so many alluring options already available, Summerlicious lunches make eating very adventuous.
Of course being a woman, I had to conclude this sinful meal with a devilish concoction of chocolate. The Chocolat pavé of chocolate crème gave one visions of rich chocolate maple fudge being seamlessly crossbred with a soft creme caramel... neither winning the battle to overpower the delicate buttery goodness which was my dessert. Ah... satiated at last.
My department went out for lunch today at Auberge du Pommier and I can assure you, we had a very french time. We embarked on our journey today with the tart zestiness of the Auberge Sparkler... a combination of mango, orange and ginger ale. This was gingerly followed by Potage of Spiced Summer Fruits. Honestly... for a cold soup... its delightfully refreshing... leaves you wanting more.
My entree was the whimsical Quiche Campagnarde. Now... I have to admit... I love Quiche... but this was remarkable... you could taste the heavenly Gruyere in every delectable bite.
Now... you have to wonder... after such an orgasmic gastronomical experience, how can one get back to the "w" word. Well... that's a story for another time... but in the meantime, I highly recommend the soft country french styling of Auberge du Pommier... they will delight even the most discerning tastes. Bon Appetit!
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