CATTY Unleashed

In sickness and in health

2012-01-26T10:32:00.000-05:00

This story is really beautiful - a married couple who were happy and had two children and had jobs they enjoyed and a life they loved shattered when the husband had such a severe heart attack that he lost oxygen to the brain which caused severe brain damage. The wife resigned herself to being alone, with a husband living in assisted care. She had her girls and a job and was able to visit him often. Then, she went to her college reunion and met someone she had known when she was younger...and had to figure out what to do then.

Page never used the word “divorce” with Robert, but that would have to be the next step. She hired a lawyer for herself and another one for Robert, and asked Will to represent Robert along with a guardian ad litem appointed by the court. The divorce was final in early 2011. Page wanted to remain Robert’s legal guardian, as she had been since his injury, and no one objected. Will signed for Robert.

On the morning of March 26 last year, Allan and his youngest son, Charles, took Robert to breakfast at IHOP. That evening, Page and Allan married in a small 19th-century chapel at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Richmond in front of about 100 people, including Robert’s father and stepmother, and his brother Will and his wife. But not Robert.

“I just could not have done that,” Page says. “It broke my heart to not be married to Robert anymore, in spite of all the good that was going to happen.”

As Allan held Page’s hands, he promised to always love her and her daughters. He turned to Hope and Nell, who were their mom’s attendants, and smiled. Then he looked back at Page: “And I promise to always help you provide compassionate care for Robert.”

The words seemed to unleash the emotions of the day. Will Melton, an assistant director with the Marine Corps, said he and his father — and everyone in the church including the minister — were moved to tears. “Allan’s vows were so touching,” Will said. “It was very uplifting in that regard — but also kinda sad.”

Page thinks Robert accepted the new expanded family. “On some level, it didn’t matter to him,” Page says.

At an appointment to switch the battery in his defibrillator before he left Richmond, Robert, with Page by his side, was asked if he was married or single. “Single. ... My lady’s married to someone else now,” he said.

Page looked at Robert. “Are you okay with that?”

“I’m fine with that,” he said, cheerful as ever, Page says.
Page says there have been a thousand moments like that, when she has felt almost apologetic and wanted to explain.

“In a way, I feel married to Robert forever,” she said a few days before leaving for St. Louis. “It’s not a traditional marriage. It’s not the marriage we signed up for. But I feel like there’s a connection there that never ends.”

Unicorns and fantasy novels

2012-01-25T13:12:00.000-05:00

I'm lying. There are no unicorns in my post, but this post by a fantasy author is pretty funny. He decided to recreate the book covers of fantasy novels to see if the poses are reasonable or at least a good stance to start fighting from. Hahahahahahaha. Hi-larious. Seriously. Enjoy.

Is it a choice?

2012-01-24T12:36:00.000-05:00

A lot of people thinking being gay isn't a choice (and I happen to agree that most people who are gay are born gay) but this was an interesting quote from ~~Miranda~~ Cynthia Nixon, formerly of Sex and the City who used to be married to a man and now identifies as a lesbian.

She has less tolerance for the skepticism she says her relationship has sparked among some gay activists who find her midlife switch in sexual orientation disingenuous.

“I totally reject that,” she said heatedly. “I gave a speech recently, an empowerment speech to a gay audience, and it included the line ‘I’ve been straight and I’ve been gay, and gay is better.’ And they tried to get me to change it, because they said it implies that homosexuality can be a choice. And for me, it is a choice. I understand that for many people it’s not, but for me it’s a choice, and you don’t get to define my gayness for me. A certain section of our community is very concerned that it not be seen as a choice, because if it’s a choice, then we could opt out. I say it doesn’t matter if we flew here or we swam here, it matters that we are here and we are one group and let us stop trying to make a litmus test for who is considered gay and who is not.” Her face was red and her arms were waving. “As you can tell,” she said, “I am very annoyed about this issue. Why can’t it be a choice? Why is that any less legitimate? It seems we’re just ceding this point to bigots who are demanding it, and I don’t think that they should define the terms of the debate. I also feel like people think I was walking around in a cloud and didn’t realize I was gay, which I find really offensive. I find it offensive to me, but I also find it offensive to all the men I’ve been out with.”

Living alone isn't so ronery

2012-01-23T10:44:00.000-05:00

Interesting interview with an author who writes about the benefits of living solo - here you go, Reshree!

What are some benefits you've noticed for people living alone?

Well, one thing is that we need to make a distinction between living alone and being alone, or being isolated, or feeling lonely. These are all different things. In fact, people who live alone tend to spend more time socializing with friends and neighbors than people who are married. So one thing I learned is that living alone is not an entirely solitary experience. It’s generally a quite social one.

The next thing, I would say, is that we live today in a culture of hyperconnection, or overconnection. If we once worried about isolation, today, more and more critics are concerned that we’re overconncted. So in a moment like this, living alone is one way to get a kind of restorative solitude, a solitude that can be productive, because your home can be an oasis from the constant chatter and overwhelming stimulation of the digital urban existence. It doesn’t need to be—you can go home and be just as connected as you are everywhere else. That’s one of the stories of my book—the communications revolution has helped made living alone possible, because it makes it a potentially social experience.

Hair and race and privilege

2012-01-17T17:13:00.000-05:00

So, I've been reading a lot of adoption blogs lately...not because I want to adopt a kid (now...maybe ever?) but because I find it so fascinating when people take the time to look at all the issues that come from adopting a child/adopting a child of another race. You may see a few posts on adoption in the next little while because its my new obsession (besides Angry Birds on my ipad).

The blog 'My Fascinating Life' is SO interesting, because this adoptive mom (yes, of Ethiopian babies) is thinking through issues as they happen. Let me direct you to an excellent post on hair - but it's about more than hair, it's about racism and privilege and learning through experience. The mom takes her baby girl to the salon to have her hair braided for the first time, and it's terrible because no one wants to braid the baby's hair, and the kid is screaming the whole time and she feels dismissed. And she dissects the whole thing here...

And okay, because I can't tell a story without picking away at what everything meant, I have to add that the whole experience was pretty confronting for me on quite a few levels. So many things to think about concerning race and hair and mothering and what's good for kids versus what they want, and then wondering whether some of those good things are really as good as I am assuming. Much of this was not really a big surprise, if difficult to live at the time. But one that was a surprise: after this happened, I had a long conversation with some really good friends at work about what the experience had been like. (They heard the original phone conversation, so they wanted to know how it would all end up). I told them what I've told you, and each person who joined the conversation said 'do you think they were rude to you because you were white?' And I said I didn't know. Then I said that was what made it particularly hard - I had no idea whether the whole thing was about the colour of my skin or whether I had done or said something wrong, or whether the particularly rude woman just had a terrible hangover and didn't want to be at work at all that day. Then I said how difficult I find it that my children are going to face this situation much more often than me, where they have no idea whether a difficult situation has happened because of their colour. Nothing too monumental there. For a moment I felt like I had been through an experience that would really help me to understand what my children's life would be like.

And then an explosion happened in my brain and I realised - every single person who has asked me about this experience has at least considered that the tension I experienced could be attributed to race. Nobody dismissed me when I wondered about it, I didn't feel like I had to apologise for suggesting it, and most people brought it up on their own. If our Zimbabwean colleague had walked in with a different story about how rude people had been at a different place of business, I doubt that any of us would have been very quick to say 'do you think they were rude to you because you are black?' It wouldn't have been our first thought, if the conversation that he reported hadn't been explicitly about race. And if he had suggested it himself (which he definitely would not have, based on my knowledge of how he operates) we would have considered it but I suspect that at least one of us would have said 'hey, it was probably nothing to do with that, she was probably just tired!' I know that's happened to me a few times when I've wondered out loud about whether my children have been treated a particular way because of their colour. But that didn't happen when the person who might have been treated rudely due to race was me . I shared my brain explosion with my colleagues and we all said 'oooooh' and sat there silently for a little while, pondering. It's taken me until now to sort it out enough in my head to write about it, and I'm sure I still haven't explained it very well.

I know white privilege is real, but it freaked me out a little - okay a lot- to feel that I even get to have white privilege when I'm talking about the fact that I may have experienced racial prejudice. There's something mighty messed up about that.

Overheard on the Goldman Sachs elevator

2012-01-13T12:14:00.000-05:00

This blog made me think of Jbear's old stories about life in the corporate world. I can't wait until she has more to share! Oh, and it made me realize how bad people are.

An anonymous career banker inside Goldman Sachs opened a twitter account (@GSElevator) with the intention of revealing the hilarious banter that takes place in the privacy of the GS elevators. Since then, the account has evolved to include things overheard on trading floors, bullpens, lobbies and bars. Some of the conversations involve more than one person, and the participants are distinguishable by their number (#1, #2, #3).

Some examples:

#1: Groupon… Food stamps for the middle class.

#1: Blacking out is just your brain clearing its browser history.

#1: Age is just a number. The more important number is how hot she is out of 10.

#1: Almost time for children to learn a valuable life lesson. Santa loves rich kids more.

A Migration of Sorts

2012-01-01T23:27:00.001-05:00

For the infant-sized handful of people who read the monthly TLG updates, they have a new home.

Glow sticks at the First Christmas?

2011-12-17T00:24:00.000-05:00

I adore this video. A lot. Merry Christmas.

Christmas 2011 Part I

2011-12-12T01:13:00.003-05:00

I am calling this pose "somber Christmas." If you were a model it would be the counter image to silence all your critics who say that you only do straight on smiling shots.

ps - In hindsight the bubble wrap you are clutching (the same wrap we had to pry from your chubby food encrusted fingers before heading to bed) might be perceived as a choking hazard. But you were too busy staring at the pretty tree lights to show real interest in the wrap. And you were supervised. So there.

Month 6

2011-12-01T00:02:00.008-05:00

Well, well, well look who made it to half a year. Have you actually been with us for 6 months now? I recall quite clearly when it was easy to count the days you were alive, my bleary sleep deprived brain could count to 5, 6, 7....and then the days blended into weeks. One day, I turned around to clean spit up off of my pants and when I looked back, you were 6 months old.

One of your most prominent characteristics this month is your broad, unrefined sense of humour. You find the oddest things funny such as:

- Coughing: it has become your personal knock knock joke. You chortle heartily when we cough and have developed your own joke cough as well

- Being naked: something about a bare bum makes you giggle. (Don't worry, it happens to me too).

- Having your Dad or I stare at you for longer than 10 seconds: this induces a cheesy grin every time(you'll never win a playground staring contest at this rate)

- Laying in your crib: the sheer banality of peering between the slates elicits a guffaw. As your parents we also find this humorous, except when the noise is made at 5am.

And the list goes on.

Let's turn our attention to your albatross (don't worry, it doesn't hang from you neck, I realize that is a choking hazard):

ROLLING. You have made significant progress by becoming a consistent roller from tummy to back. However you show no interest in going back to tummy, despite my promise of buying you a 6 month birthday gift. Instead me and my mukluks wait patiently for you to complete this milestone, demonstrating at least that mild interest in progressing your mobility skills. Part of my self-developed physical therapy program involves you laying on your back, on my outstretched legs. As you twist and turn all 21.5 pounds of baby muscle, I let gravity take over and you gently fall off my legs into a roll onto the carpet. This makes you laugh, as outlined in the previous paragraph. So far this is the closest you've come to rolling back to tummy on your own.

Speaking of mobility, you are thisclose to learning how to sit up. And I'm afraid to report that your biggest detractor from this accomplishment is yourself. You see, whilst in a perfectly sufficient sitting pose, you insist on arching your back and waving your arms around like you just don't care. Perhaps this is your version of a trust fall, making sure that your parents catch your perfect, warm little head every time? In any case, your trunk & neck strength is amazing and I bet you would love sitting, if you just gave it a chance. Sadly it isn't as dramatic as erratically arching your back and doesn't lend itself to theatrics. But I promise you it will pay dividends in the long run.

Your Dad and I enjoyed your first Halloween. We kept it pretty low key, mainly because your father deemed it inappropriate to pimp you out for Halloween candy. I felt this was merely a fringe benefit of having a child, but alas, I was overruled. So instead we visited Auntie Sister Bear and then went for a walk in our local community. You were decked out in your costume, complete with a monkey costume that had a banana in the pocket.

Speaking of bananas, eating is something you enjoy very much. You have welcomed all new foods we give you with little resistance. However you have developed a pecular habit of grasping the pinky finger of whoever is feeding you. We've deduced that this is your way of trying to control the intake of food, because you hold the finger steady when you're not ready for a bite and you pull it towards your mouth to indicate "more please!" See diagram to the left:

I assumed all babies eat like this, given my complete unfamiliarity with baby feeding. Come to think of it, I'm not sure if I've ever fed another baby. Surely my sister at some point? But I have no recollection of this. Anyway, from what other moms tells me this is kind of quirky and not done my all babies. Yet you are happy with the arrangement and we have no complaints, so feel free to continue grasping our pinkies if you feel it gives you a greater level of control over the speed of the feeding process.

I'm slightly afraid but also excited to see what your next 6 months bring us. I hear that you are going to become increasingly mobile . What? No more lying where you are put and happily playing with whatever toys I scatter around you? This is rather alarming as I'm not sure what to do with a baby who moves. But I'm sure your Dad and I will figure it out and if not, there is always google.

Love,

Me.

Month 5

2011-10-30T21:41:00.007-05:00

Sweet Valley High TLG, you are 5 months old!

Lacking a more creative format, let's recap a few of your noteworthy accomplishments (or lack thereof) this month.

1. Solids - you began eating solid foods. First mashed bananas watered down with copious amounts of formula. Next followed brown rice cereal, sweet potatoes, avocados, plums, carrots, green beans, barley cereal and peas. Although initially hesitant, within 2 feedings you had perfected your little bird open mouth and chewing noises. You like to hold my pinkie whilst you eat, urging me to shovel in the food faster. All the books and the interweb tells me that babies know when they are full. But those sources don't understand your passion for food and your insistence on continuing to eat while it is offered. Thus, we regulate your intake carefully because I don't think you would ever refuse food even if full. We wouldn't find out until you showered me with baby puke - a colorful mix of whatever you ate. Also, baby spit up is much more icky now that there is some solids mixed in.

2. Not rolling over- a good chunk of our day is devoted to your fall training regime. Your Dad or I place you on a quilt and roll you back and forth. Often you gurgle happily on your back, as we roll you to your stomach by using your leg as leverage. This pops you onto your stomach like a turtle, surprising you with a new perspective, as if this hasn't happened to you at least 4 dozen times prior. Then after about 5 minutes of bum wiggling and leg flailing, I take mercy on you and roll you back to your stomach. This produces a few baby chortles and a look which says"that was pleasurable, but I'm happy to just pick the toe fuzz out of my feet, thank you." According to my encyclopedia of all things baby, if an infant isn't rolling by 6 months we're supposed to take you to the doctor. I will comply, because I follow my encyclopedia diligently, but what can she do? I mean you don't accept bribes, we can't employ reason or negotiation or threaten to take away privileges if you don't roll. So for the sake of my sanity and your future allowance which I could garnish, please just start rolling.

3. Sleeping through night - After deciding that risking a night of interrupted sleep wasn't the end of the world, I decided to try getting you to sleep through the night without your 11pm snack. There wasn't any science or critical thinking behind this move, I was just getting tired/becoming too lazy to feed you at my bedtime. And a part of me began feeling bad for waking you up to take a bottle, if it was possible to go the whole night without it. We stopped cold turkey and it worked! I could now go to bed any time I want, as long as it is after 730! This such a HUGE luxury and I do thank you for it. Every night that my head hits the pillow and I fall asleep amazed at how it has only been a few short months since you woke multiple times during the night. It feels like forever since we had our 2am feedings on the couch, you sucking back your bottle while I watched Pregnant in Heels. I still can't watch that show now without flashbacks of those brand new Mom days and all the emotions that came with.

I still run into many, many pessimists (typically other moms) who give me a patronizing smile and tell me to enjoy the sleeping while it lasts. Then I mentally punch these women in the shins (that's right I bend down and punch them in the shins) because they don't know you and how awesome you are. I have no doubt that you will have rough nights, but by nature you are a good sleeper.

4. Your Voice - You found a new voice this month and it is the cutest thing ever. No seriously, even I of the pumice heart will do pretty much anything to hear you "talk." Sometimes you sound like a kitten, other times it sounds more like the voice of a lawn gnome (if lawn gnomes could speak). We love hearing you squeal, squawk and make all sorts of other vocal noises as you try and find your little boy voice.

5. Finding your toes- Did you know that playing with your toes in a milestone?? Who knew! Again, I question how this bar is set, seems pretty low. This month you began to play with your toes, especially when you are pant-less. I suspect that when you have your pants & socks on, you forget that you have toes. Things are going to get crazy once you realize that you ALWAYS have toes, not just when you're naked.

This month will bring your 6 month birthday!! I know, I know,... it is one of the most over used mom-isms, but I can't believe how the time is speeding by. On the one hand it feels like I've been gone from work forever and other days it feels like just yesterday was the last day my swollen feet hobbled out of the office. I remember that day well, the surreal sense of leaving the Coop for a year, combined with the nervousness of having such a large life change.

I look forward to all the things you are going to learn this month and the awesome half year birthday present I am buying myself. You can get a half year birthday present as well....if you roll over.

Love,

Me.

Pending

2011-10-28T21:10:00.004-05:00

A five month birthday post coming up, just as soon as I clean off someone's sweet potato mustache.

Comments

2011-10-12T00:09:00.000-05:00

Thanks for posting Jbear! We look SO AWESOME in this picture. one of catty's best pics ever. a few notes:

1. i am jealous that you stayed up and talked every night. i missed having that with you guys.

2. seeing lbomb with lipstick is still weird to me

3. i love poutine

4. i don't like crying, but a flash mob is a good reason to cry (with joy)

5. i really like bejeweled things

6. i also really like cheese

7. i also really really like you guys. A lot.

8. Jbear and I are awesome posters.

Remember when...

2011-10-11T16:41:00.002-05:00

Meenalu got married and the following occurred:

- We ate expensive cheese and talked the night away at Reshree's house every night

- I "borrowed" a necklace from the Bride's dresser on her wedding day...classy

- We ate poutine at the midnight food truck and its power went out...twice (best wedding idea ever)

- I was anti-flash mob but came around in the end because it made the bride cry with joy

- Lbomb and I were the best.wedding.dates.ever.

- Lbomb continued to tutor me in how to parallel park.

- Reshree was most helpful with a variety of concoctions from her in-house pharmacy

- Meenalu was BEAUTIFUL in her bejeweled sari

- We danced the night away and still had enough energy to talk until almost 4am

- Reshree learned how to put on foundation

Thanks Meenalu for falling lurve and providing a reason for CATTY to reunite!

ps- while this picture is being taken Reshree is thinking "chin down! chin down!"

Happy Thanksgiving 2011

2011-10-10T23:53:00.002-05:00

Who needs turkey and stuffing when you can have pureed bananas?

Taking Canada by a wave of hotness

2011-10-08T11:37:00.000-05:00

Goodness but CATTY is a good looking group!

2 Years

2011-10-05T00:13:00.003-05:00

Lesson learned from these photos: kissing leads to babies.

No big deal

2011-10-03T22:19:00.000-05:00

Month 4

2011-09-28T15:28:00.005-05:00

Dear TLG,

Many exciting things happened during your fourth month. Most notably I was reunited with CATTY for the first time since you were born. Your father generously offered to stay home with you, instead of the whole family coming to Ottawa. I think it was the right choice because although you are developing quickly, I don't think you would have been much use in picking up flower petals or performing a flash mob. If we're being honest with each other it took me one day to get over the guilt of leaving you, after which I fully basked in the glory of CATTY. By the morning of my return I was quite looking forward to being reunited with you (and Dad).

Another important milestone was meeting Reshree while spending time at the Baby Spa*. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who you ask, this is the only CATTY Auntie that you've had the pleasure of meeting. I wish there was photographic evidence, but Reshree doesn't know how to upload pictures from her camera. I can report that Reshree held you and did not immediately throw you on the couch when you spit up. She displayed remarkable calmness.

Now let us circle back to last month's development points and see how you've fared:

1.Sleeping - Always an above average sleeper, you have only continued to excel in this pursuit. On average now, you sleep from about 730 - 7ish (with a snack break at 11pm). I have heard nasty rumors of something called a 4 month sleep regression, but we'll worry about that when and if it happens.

2. Laughing without hiccuping - this has also gotten better. But I"m not sure if this is because you laugh less, or if better control over your diaphragm has developed. You prefer to demonstrate your happy demeanour by constant smiling and cheesy charm vs out right laughing. The only surefire way to illicit a giggle from your not so tiny tummy is by throwing you up in the air, or tickling you under the armpits. Both actions which can be classified as child abuse if you ask the wrong people, so we do these things sparingly. Your father has also had recent success with "bicycling" your legs while you sit in your bouncy chair. You find this hysterically funny.

Another item of note is that you now really and truly recognize us as your parents. They (aka books and baby iPod apps) say that babies know their mothers from birth but I think that is just a nice story they tell sleep deprived mothers in the hopes that it will help them solider on through the early weeks. In the very beginning of your short life I don't think you knew who was holding, feeding or changing you. But this month I notice flickers of recognition and even enjoyment when me or your Dad pick you up, smile or talk to you. It is heartening to know that you perhaps you recognize the people that meet all your needs. A little positive reinforcement is welcomed, especially when you have spit up on me 4 times and it isn't even lunch time yet.

The final milestone of the month is being introduced to Sophie, your giraffe. In our house, Sophie is often referred to as the overpriced hipster toy. It is one of those trendy toys that I secretly love and your Dad openly dislikes. Although I do admit that $18 is a lot to pay for what is essentially a chew toy. And I have my suspicions about the claims of Sophie being made of organic rubber, lovingly molded by a centuries old method, high in the French Alps by Francisan monks. Please note that only half of this description is hyperbole. And yet despite your Dad's keen desire to have you buy North American, you love Sophie. She is intuitively constructed such that you can put her in your mouth with little effort. Her nubby little ears must feel great on your gums, as evidenced by the large amount of saliva that dribbles forth from your giraffe stuffed mouth. She has become your sceptor, waved around aimlessly as you survey your lands, wealth and flocks. And by flock I mean two giraffes made of rubber.

All in all I think this has been my favorite month yet. Rest assured, if it wasn't, I would tell you. Very little of this mothering business comes naturally, but I feel like we both had some successes this month. I'm looking forward to October which will hopefully be full of uninterrupted nights and debuting your fall sweater collection.

Love,

Me.

Month 3

2011-08-27T19:17:00.004-05:00

Dear TLG,

Congratulations on successfully completing the first 3 months of your life, or as I call it, Q1. The main highlights this month include a definite increased awareness of your surroundings, grasping toys and much, much better head control. I know, these are exciting times we're living in.

One of the most surprising developments is how much you love having your clothes taken off. Currently the only way to get you to giggle is to remove your clothing. You giggle uncontrollably, which typically induces hiccups when we try and take your arms out of your shirt. There is something about removing clothing that you find utterly hilarious. I hope this is a phase because it could get awkward and possibly illegal if this continues into adulthood. But for now your Dad and I will enjoy this nighttime ritual; stretching out the removal of your clothing as long as possible because it is so funny to you and us both.

Second only to having your clothes removed is how pleased you appear when people talk or sing to you. You're content to sit and listen to someone tell you about anything (your Dad updates you on Russian energy politics, I choose Facts & Arguments in the G&M). You smile and interject your thoughts on the matter, regardless of your actual knowledge on the subject. In fact, many of your Dad and mine's conversations are interrupted by you speaking your piece. We both like sing to you as well- unfortunately nursery rhymes aren't either of our strong suits, so you are subjected to whatever piece of music comes to mind. Fortunately most of the current pop music offerings are as simplistic as nursery rhymes (Rebecca Black I'm looking at you) and I think they are a great substitute to nursery rhymes. Whether to sit in the front seat or back is very relevant to you right now.

I also know A LOT of musicals by memory so you are sometimes favoured with a selection from Joseph or Hairspray when I'm changing your diaper. I suspect that due to your very different parental musical influences, your musical will be very...how do they say...eclectic.

You also went for your first swim in your tiny teeny swim trunks with your Dad and I. We had a hard time telling whether you enjoyed or endured the experience. But no crying occurred so I am declaring it a success.

Despite the leaps and bounds you are making there two "development points" (aka things you need to get better at) that I would like you to consider as we head into Q2.

1. Sleeping. You have been flirting with sleeping through the night since 8 weeks. I think it is time that you just commit to it already. More often than not you wake up at 4am or 5am at which point I will begrudgingly get out of bed, put in your soother and quietly slink back to my own bed and hope that it only happens once that night. Once in a while you will go ALL NIGHT and then wake up at 630. On these days you are so happy, I believe because of the stretch of uninterrupted sleep that you just gave yourself. UPDATE: As of tonight you are 7 for 7 nights sleeping until 630. Oh. My. Heavens. It has been bliss! I cannot express how much uninterrupted sleep means to me. I don't dare declare it the new norm, but I am growing in my optimism that this may be a habit here to stay.

2. Laughing without giving yourself the hiccups. Perhaps it is because this is still a new skill, but you cannot manage to laugh without giving yourself hiccups. The hiccups then induce a spewing forth of milk, stored in your hamster-like cheeks just waiting for an opportunity to spill down your outfit and sometimes mine.

But all in all it has been another productive and adventure filled month at Chez Nykluk.

Love,
Me

Hipster versions of us

2011-08-15T10:31:00.000-05:00

Through the magic of the google, my sister found out that there is another couple with the same names as my affianced and I. It's true. AND, they are getting married the day after us. AND, the other Meenalu has a blog. AND, she blogged about it. AND, they are clearly hipsters which we are not. Just like I am going to blog about them. Actually, I'm just going to link to the article. Enjoy!

I Stand Corrected

2011-07-26T15:23:00.004-05:00

To avoid being accused of not giving you the credit you deserve, I will make a slight correction to my Month 2 post. Just one day shy of your 2 month anniversary (or is it birthday? does it matter when you're counting months?) you gave us the second night of 7 hours of sleep! I say two nights, but the first night I will just barely count because you still fussed three times, requiring me to get out of bed and provide your soother. The night can't be counted as a complete victory if I am still roused from my warm bed. Those are just the rules.

You celebrated this momentous occasion by dressing in some of your fall collection's finest (yes it's July, but it is cold out today). As you can see, you are as thrilled as I am with your nocturnal achievement.

Month 2

2011-07-26T13:00:00.001-05:00

Dear TLG,

This has been a big month for you, as you have just doubled the amount of time you have spent here with us. Congratulations. I hope it is as exciting as you had been promised while still in the womb.

By far the most exciting thing you started to do this month (at a mere 5.5 weeks old) is smile; most notably at me, Dad, Grandma and Auntie 'Manda. At first a smile required an extreme amount of tongue clicking, verbal pleading and the planets to align with Venus in retrograde. However as you become more confident and pleased with your new skill, less and less is required for you to break into a smile. For example in the past week you have smiled when your Dad speaks Russian, when I sing Wicked to you, when Auntie 'Manda touches your forehead and best of all, when your Dad or I greet you in your crib. We've also heard you laugh, one, single teasing giggle while your Dad was clicked his tongue. But despite multiple attempts since, there has been no further giggling. I can tell that you want to, but when you open you mouth wide all that you produce are strange gasping sounds. I feel confident that once you master that tricky inhale/exhale thing, you will laugh all the time. I I intend to work with you to develop your laughing skills further in month 3 by continuing to speak in high pitched voices, repeatedly click my tongue and sing everything from Beauty and the Beast to Mambo #5 to you (who doesn't want a little bit of Monica in their life).

You seem to have inherited both my love of sleeping and your father's impressive ability to sleep in odd positions; creating amusing and potentially dangerous situations. Case in point: during a visit to Grandma's house, you fell asleep in the bathtub. Perhaps it provided you with wistful flashbacks to the time you rented my womb (I will graciously defer payment until you are no longer a minor) and you spent your day floating around in a homemade jacuzzi. Thankfully I did not break one of the cardinal rules of parenting (DO NOT leave an infant unattended in the tub), thus making sure you didn't fall off your bathing perch while in slumber. Undeterred by the gentle splashes of water and shampooing, you peacefully slept through it all. Well done TLG, well done.

You are also currently sleeping approximately 5 hrs a night. Last month I was willing to pay someone to creep by your cribside to give me 5 blissful hours of sleep but now it has only give me a taste for what real, serious, uninterrupted sleep feels like. And it feels good. Thus, 5 hours is no longer sufficient and I am craving, fantasizing for the day that you make it to 7 or 8 hours. People tell me it could happen any day now. Other people tell me it could take months. I want to punch the latter group in the face but instead I smile politely. The same polite smile I give people who tell me that you won't be this gentle and well mannered forever. So every night has become like a sleep deprived Christmas Eve, I lay my head down wondering if tonight will be the night that you go longer than 5 hours. I fantasize of waking up at 6 or 7am like normal people, feeling fully rested and perhaps even refreshed. But until that moment I will try and enjoy our middle of the night feeds and the sometimes TV that we watch (typically a brainless, non-intense show like Love in the Wild or The Bachelorette).

The last event worth noting was your very successful trip to the Baby Spa (aka Grandma's house) which went off without a hitch. Well, unless you count the side of the highway diaper change performed on a picnic table.

Here's to even more consecutive sleep in month 3.

Love,

Me.

Month 1

2011-06-27T01:49:00.002-05:00

Dear David,

I intended to provide a summary on the progress of your one month milestones but then I realized how basic these achievements were. Apparently the first month of your life is spent just getting your body used to functioning on its own and not sponging off your mother, I mean relying on the placenta for life. For the record, your June "action items" (I miss the corporate lingo already) are listed below:

- Lifts head when lying on tummy (check)

- Responds to sound (double check)

- Stares at faces (basically your favorite thing to do).

With that objective out of the way, I will share a couple things I've learned since you moved out of my uterus and into our spare room. Also I've decided that your blog nickname will be The Little Gentleman (TLG for convenience purposes). Both your Dad and I have referred to you as the little gentleman and the nice Physician's Assistant at your doctor also calls you a little gentleman. Plus, it fits the very easy going and polite disposition you have demonstrated thus far and that I HOPE AND PRAY continues.

I've learned that my two favourite compliments that people share are "he is so tiny" and "I love his name." I like when people comment on your small stature, because let's face it- anything that came out of someone less than a month ago can't be that large. Yes, you were definitely on the big size when you were born. BUT YOU STILL EMERGED FROM INSIDE OF ME. How big can you be? I am SO tired of people commenting on how large you look to them and thus I relish any compliments which reference your tiny newborn-ness.. You are still very small to your Dad and I. And given our inexperience with tiny humans, it is best that you were custom made on the robust side, less chance of us hurting you.

Your name means a lot to me. It is a classic combination with a unique meaning to our family. It makes me smile inside when strangers or acquaintances in particular comment on how beautiful your name sounds. I hope someday it means a lot to you as well.

I have also learned that I would pay large sums of money for a longer stretch of uninterrupted sleep. All things considered you are a pretty good sleeper for a newborn. But"pretty good" is defined by sleeping 3 hrs consecutively, so that's not saying much. Often when I'm feeding you at 3am I begin fantasizing about how much I would pay someone to come and sit beside you from 11-5 and keep you fed, comforted and slept so that I could get a blessed 6 hr stretch. Not every night (that would just be extravagantly expensive), just once or twice a week. And I can tell you that the hourly wage I would be willing to pay is pretty high. But then I think of the creep factor of paying someone (other than a family member) to do this task and I realize it is a bad idea.

The last major lesson of the month has been to stop obsessively reading baby message boards. This has quickly become a bad habit as a way to kill time and see what types of crazy thing people post about. However it also creates anxiety as most of the advice is conflicting, over the top or down right strange. There is enough conflicting information given between public health, the hospital and my doctor- throw in a bunch of message board posters and it is one giant mess. And really, does "hipstermum29 (actual screen name) really know how to best advise on how to burp a baby? More importantly, what specifically qualifies someone to be a hipster while also a mom?

As we look towards month two, I am told that you will begin returning smiles and making "cooing" noises. I look forward to the day you return my smiles and respond to your daily dose of the Globe and Mail instead of staring blankly like you currently do. I can tell you are listening (the furrowed eyebrows are evidence of this) but I can't tell if you like what I am reading. Would you prefer the life section? sports? politics? Help a girl out...

Love,

Me.

Dalai Lama joke - TO THE DALAI LAMA

2011-06-17T11:56:00.000-05:00

This was kind of hi-larious. A Dalai Lama joke to the Dalai Lama's face. I was very much laughing out loud* when I saw this.

Other Dalai Lama jokes here

Name dropping

2011-06-08T20:31:00.001-05:00

Hey jerks* - Remember that one time my friend Stephane Dion came to our engagement party?

All you need is love...

2011-06-06T09:04:00.002-05:00

Le Bebe - Mime no more

2011-05-31T14:08:00.003-05:00

Will need to find an appropriate blog nickname for him. He sleeps in the same position as his Dad.

High on a hill...

2011-05-24T18:48:00.000-05:00

You kitties out in cattyland may know that we love ourselves some Sound of Music. Recently, I came across this little gem - a taste of what Baroness Shraeder said when she tried to save face after that upstart Maria started hanging around.

I REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT MY WEDDING TO CAPTAIN VON TRAPP HAS BEEN CANCELED.

- - - -

Dear Friends, Family and Austrian nobility,
Captain Von Trapp and I are very sorry to inform you that we no longer plan to wed. We offer our deepest apologies to those of you who have already made plans to travel to Salzburg this summer.
Those of you on the Captain's side of the guest list are probably aware of the reason for the change of plans. I'm sure you have already received that charming "Save the date!" card in the shape of a mountain goat from the Captain and his new fiancée, Maria
.
I must confess to being rather blindsided by the end of our relationship. It seems Captain Von Trapp and I misunderstood each other. I assumed he was looking for a wife of taste and sophistication, who was a dead ringer for Tippi Hedren; instead he wanted to marry a curtain-wearing religious fanatic who shouts every word she says.

But I don't want you to be angry at him. We are all adults here. "But Baroness," so many of my friends have said, "you must be devastated. You yourself are fabulously wealthy, so you cannot have wanted the Captain for his money—you must have truly loved him." It's true. But so, I am sure, does his new fiancée, his children's nanny. Her wardrobe is made of curtains. She's definitely not a gold digger or anything.

I'm sorry. That was crude of me. She seems like a lovely person, and she and the children have a great deal in common.

A great, great, great deal.

Since I will no longer be a part of their lives, I do hope you will all keep an eye on the Captain's children. I am not terribly maternal but I was very fond of them in my own way and I must admit I am worried what will become of them now that I have gone. I had planned to send them to boarding school, since their education at the moment seems to consist mostly of marching around Salzburg singing scales. I think it would have been particularly helpful for the eldest daughter, who seems intent on losing her virginity to the mailman.

Please, friends, don't worry about me. While I was a bit startled to be thrown aside for someone who flunked out of nun school, I assure you that I will be fine, and my main pursuits in life shall continue to be martinis, bon mots, and looking fabulous. You'll also be glad to know I have retained custody of the Captain's hard-drinking gay friend, Max. Anyone who gets tired of sing-a-longs should feel free to look us up.

Again, my deepest apologies for this disruption to your plans. I am currently sorting through the wedding gifts we've already received and I will send them back as soon as possible. The Captain would help, but he is busy learning to play a song about cuckoo clocks on his guitar.
Sincerely,
Baroness Elsa Schraeder

In Pareeee...

2011-05-17T20:53:00.001-05:00

Remember that one time we went to Vegas and then we ate at the Parisien bistro twice? Delicious!

Happy Birthday Meenalu!!

2011-05-08T17:22:00.013-05:00

Figure 1. Left: Meenalu (homo sapiens), Right: Indian Rhesus macaque (Macaca mulatta)

On this special occasion of welcoming you to the third decade of your life, I'd like to take a few moments to share some fascinating facts about the rhesus monkey. As evidenced by the photos above, the physical similarities between yourself and this member of the Cercopithecinae subfamily are striking: brown skin, furry, piercing eyes, wide smiles, a central nervous system. Well, you can't tell the last from the photo but take my word for it (See Footnote 1),

Rhesus macaques interact using a variety of facial movements, vocalizations, body postures and gestures. Some of these expressions include "silent bared teeth", "fear grimace", "present rump", "geckers" and "harmonic arches" (See Footnote 2). You too have a wide range of ways that you express yourself, including "googly eyes", "really loud cackling", "unrhythmic clapping", "bum look self touch", "face punching" and "talking all the time."

Figure 2. Similar facial expressions.

These monkeys are indigenous to India. You are also from India. Unfortunately, they have earned themselves a poor reputation in the past few years, due to their rampant looting and pillaging of some urban centres (See Footnote 3). You do similar things in outlet shopping malls, restaurants and clothing exchanges, but your reputation has remained relatively unscathed.

Like many primates, and very much like you, the rhesus monkey is a highly sociable beast (See Footnote 4). Living in large groups, these animals navigate complex social interactions with ease and there is often one special monkey that shines as a social planner extraordinaire, who brings people together and enriches their lives through shared activities. I made that last point up, but if it were true, they would probably call that monkey the macaca meenalu.

Figure 3. Highly social animals.

Potential predators of rhesus macaques include raptors, dogs, weasels, leopards, tigers, sharks, crocodiles, and snakes (See Footnote 5). You should be safe from these things, but I'd keep a keen eye out just in case to be sure that you make it to see your fourth decade.

The rhesus monkey also beat man into space (See Footnote 6). Amazing!

There are millions of rhesus monkeys in the world, and they are in fact one of the least endangered species out there. I have spent time with monkeys and have found them to be pleasant company. But they are far and you are near – and even if you weren’t, I wouldn’t trade you for all the other monkeys in the world. Happy Birthday Meenalu! Welcome to being old!

1. Or the Internet’s word for it: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/9241635
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhesus_macaque
3. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/7055625.stm
4. http://science.jrank.org/pages/5861/Rhesus-Monkeys.html
5. http://pin.primate.wisc.edu/factsheets/entry/rhesus_macaque
6. http://www.ape-o-naut.org/famous/

Happy Birthday Lbomb

2011-05-07T14:41:00.001-05:00

Lbomb Lbomb Lbomb

This year’s theme is especially awesome not just because I got to suggest it but also because we get to put your FACE on an animal BODY. I love it. (Actually, now that I think about it, it would be even better if we could put your face, in sunglasses, on an animal body…but I digress).

So, even though the idea is really awesome, my follow through was less than awesome. And it’s not because I don’t love you. I do! Lots! [insert multiple excuses here for lack of posting]

Back to the regularly scheduled post:

I took a couple of tests to determine the kind of animal that you might be, which were less than helpful. Some of the questions included 'I have a long neck' - yes this is true! and 'one of my relatives can run up to 20 miles per hour' - you are ethiopian! and 'I have long fingernails ' - true and 'I pee on things ' - not really relevant . The quiz told me that you were a lizard and I didn't think that was really true.

So, then I realized that quizzes wouldn't help me and I should turn to my own body of knowledge to come up with a better anima. With the help of Reshree and Preston Pennywise, I was encouraged to come up with some characteristics that you would best describe you:

-looks great in jewel tones? Check!

-an omnivore that introduces us to many dietary adventures? Check!

- a deity that represents benevolence, patience, compassion, good luck? Check!

-an emblem of love good-will, nurturing? Check!

-a really good friend? Check!

-a forgiving soul that understands when her friends are terribly late at writing her birthday posts? Check!

So maybe there isn't an exact match to a real animal here on earth but I would argue that the peacock with its bright plumage (you wear bright colours! your bring colour to any event - symbolically not racially), its symbolism to match your best characteristics patience (yes! the revolution is yours!) and good luck (how many times have you had a chance to be on design tv now?) and overall awesomeness is probably my best nomination for you as an animal.

And so, with that I want to wish you a VERY happy birthday! It's late, but it's not too late to live your best life, live your best leave, and wear spend more times spreading your feathers Squawk! Love you!

One Month & Counting

2011-04-22T12:36:00.007-05:00

Today is April 22nd. I am due May 22nd and thanks to my Math 31 background, I know that this means I am due in 1 month. I've successfully convinced myself that le Bebe will be late, thus managing my expectations appropriately. However, whether it's 1 month or 1.5 months from now- I am told that the french mime* will be exiting soon. As my belly continues to increase, so does the frequency of comments from my co-workers. As mentioned before the Coop is not overly familiar with pregnant women and I am treated with a mix of awe, puzzlement and fear (as though this condition might be contagious). Here are some of my favorite comments (and my occasional retorts) from the past couple months.

"I think you're having a boy, your hips are wider."

"I think you're having a girl, your hips are wider."

(these comments are provided on alternating weeks by the same admin assistant. I don't think she remembers that we have the same conversation every week)

"Can you still walk to the c-train in your condition, or should we take a cab over to the client"

(please note, the client is 6 blocks, or two c-train stops away...)

Question posed to my officemate: "Has Jbear gone crazy yet? I hear all pregnant women go CRAZY near the end of the pregnancy! Tell me when she loses it because it would be hilarious to watch."

"Wow, I can't believe you are having a baby. You just don't seem like...you know...how a Mom should be..."(co-worker awkwardly trails off).

"So....you're taking a year off, right? Won't that put your career back at least one, maybe two years?"

And my personal favorite:

Co-worker (male): "I think it's important that women can't have it all. You either spend a lot of time at home with your children or you come back to work full force and your kids see less of you. Women just need to realize that they can't have it all, and be ok with that."

Me: "You're wrong. It's not that women can't have it all, FAMILIES can't have it all. Someone in the family, either parent needs to sacrifice their career. Typically this is the woman, so we tell ourselves women can't have it all. But really, it's families.

This is as good as it gets

2011-03-29T22:27:00.005-05:00

For me, I don't believe in "bump pictures." I'm not saying that I think others shouldn't take one, I just choose to not partake of them myself. There has not been one taken yet and I vow to have the pregnant side shot moratorium continue for the next 8 weeks, or whenever Le Bebe decides to make it's appearance.

However, I did compromise during Half Baked 2011 to allow myself to be photographed from the belly up, but only if I appear disinterested or unaware of the photo being taken. This compromise precipitated many, many photos of CATTY trying to eat my stomach, usually while I was on my Blackberry.

And yes, the lens flare is natural...it's one of those crazy pregnancy side effects.

Obama and friends

2011-03-20T20:59:00.000-05:00

Remember that time we chilled with Obama? It.was.awesome!

They fought for love...

2011-03-20T20:47:00.000-05:00

2011-03-19T13:55:00.004-05:00

For better or worse, people say all sorts of things to you when you're pregnant. Sometimes these comments make me smile, sometimes I want to cringe or other times I just tune out. But I always find them amusing. Here are some of my favorites from work:

- "You can't even tell that you are pregnant from the back" (LOVE this compliment)

- "Seven months?! You don't look further along than 4"

- "That blouse does nothing for you, other than make you look gigantic" (I also LOVE honest maternity fashion advice because sometimes I just don't know)

- "You get a whole year off? But you're not taking that long, are you?"

- "So when is the fetus viable? We'll need to make a contingency plan once you hit that milestone"

- "Hopefully your water doesn't break at work. You would be legendary around here if it did."

- "Why do you get a whole year off? Isn't recovery like 6 weeks?"

- "You're pregnant!? Why? I mean, congratulations!!" (this is one of my personal favorites)

Le Nursery Parti Une

2011-03-18T23:01:00.007-05:00

As the big day draws closer it is becoming increasingly evident that the French Mime* will indeed be exiting the womb. Intellectually I have known this all along, but have done little to think about post-pregnancy and preferred to focus on figuring out where my next pair of elastic pants or bowl of frosted flakes was coming from.

However in recent weeks, me and Mr. "father to be" Pysanka have begun the task of furnishing/decorating the nursery. The furnishings were fairly straight forward- his parents generously purchased the crib/mattress and we bought very similar dressers to those purchased by our respective siblings. However decor has been a longer journey. Both Mr. Pyanka and I are quite particular when it comes to decor in general, in different ways. In this case, he wanted the room to be "educational" and I wanted it to be "stylish." I know, two very vague senses of theme which could be taken in a hundred different ways. The good news is that thanks to the wonder of the Internet we can find items we love, it just takes a while.

Case in point:

This print from the NerdyBaby shop:

At first glance it appears to be a lovely watercolor of an elephant pushing a rock. But it is actually a LESSON IN SCIENCE. If you look carefully you'll see Newton's law of Force= Mass x Acceleration written around the picture.

We paired it with some hooks (on which I am currently hanging Aden & Anais swaddling blankets) and we have one wall of the nursery complete. Also all credit goes to Mr. Pysanka as he both sourced the print AND spent his Friday evening assembling/installing the hooks & picture.

Viva Las Vegas and Le Bebe!

2011-03-17T20:47:00.000-05:00

Remember that one time I almost lost all of our Vegas pics? PHEW! They are SAFE!

Love

2011-03-17T19:33:00.000-05:00

by Roy Croft

I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good,
And more than any fate
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.

Bomb collar mystery

2011-03-10T11:11:00.000-05:00

Crazy article that goes through a crime that was both puzzling, bizarre, brilliant and ludicrous. Here's the beginning, but read the whole thing to understand the mystery of the bomb collar (heads up it involves a lady who murdered her previous lovers, bodies in freezers, and a pizza man)

At 2:28 pm on August 28, 2003, a middle-aged pizza deliveryman named Brian Wells walked into a PNC Bank in Erie, Pennsylvania. He had a short cane in his right hand and a strange bulge under the collar of his T-shirt. Wells, 46 and balding, passed the teller a note. “Gather employees with access codes to vault and work fast to fill bag with $250,000,” it said. “You have only 15 minutes.” Then he lifted his shirt to reveal a heavy, boxlike device dangling from his neck. According to the note, it was a bomb. The teller, who told Wells there was no way to get into the vault at that time, filled a bag with cash—$8,702—and handed it over. Wells walked out, sucking on a Dum Dum lollipop he grabbed from the counter, hopped into his car, and drove off. He didn’t get far. Some 15 minutes later, state troopers spotted Wells standing outside his Geo Metro in a nearby parking lot, surrounded him, and tossed him to the pavement, cuffing his hands behind his back.

Wells told the troopers that while out on a delivery he had been accosted by a group of black men who chained the bomb around his neck at gunpoint and forced him to rob the bank. “It’s gonna go off!” he told them in desperation. “I’m not lying.” The officers called the bomb squad and took positions behind their cars, guns drawn. TV camera crews arrived and began filming. For 25 minutes Wells remained seated on the pavement, his legs curled beneath him.

“Did you call my boss?” Wells asked a trooper at one point, apparently concerned that his employer would think he was shirking his duties. Suddenly, the device started to emit an accelerating beeping noise. Wells fidgeted. It looked like he was trying to scoot backward, to somehow escape the bomb strapped to his neck. Beep… Beep… Beep. Boom! The device detonated, blasting him violently onto his back and ripping a 5-inch gash in his chest. The pizza deliveryman took a few last gasps and died on the pavement. It was 3:18 pm. The bomb squad arrived three minutes later.

To Love is Not to Possess

2011-03-03T19:31:00.000-05:00

by James Kavanaugh

To love is not to possess,
To own or imprison,
Nor to lose one’s self in another.
Love is to join and separate,
To walk alone and together,
To find a laughing freedom
That lonely isolation does not permit.
It is finally to be able
To be who we really are
No longer clinging in childish dependency
Nor docilely living separate lives in silence,
It is to be perfectly one’s self
And perfectly joined in permanent commitment
To another–and to one’s inner self.
Love only endures when it moves like waves,
Receding and returning gently or passionately,
Or moving lovingly like the tide
In the moon’s own predictable harmony,
Because finally, despite a child’s scars
Or an adult’s deepest wounds,
They are openly free to be
Who they really are–and always secretly were,
In the very core of their being
Where true and lasting love can alone abide.

Happy (Belated) Birthday (Post) Lbomb!

2011-03-02T21:45:00.010-05:00

Let me be the first to introduce our new birthday theme for the year (See Footnote 1) - the animal you most remind me of.

This is a black swan (cygnus atratus) (See Footnote 2). You may be thinking to yourself that this is an obvious and perhaps superficial choice, just because it is black (like you) and elegant (like you). Plus you may be surprised that I chose an animal that swims.* But look closer my friend, for there is much to learn about this fine bird.

For example, did you know that black swans are nomadic? (See Footnote 3) Just like you, these stunning animals change locations and are comfortable taking roost in many places like Edmonton, Toronto, Durban or New York. I mean, not specifically those places, but you know, places.

And unlike white swans, which are territorial loners, black swans are happy in groups and have nurturing, cooperative qualities. (See Footnote 4). Like cygnus atratus, you are someone who takes cares of people you love, through celebratory new job phone calls at work, long emails or simply by being present. Although swans aren't known for using those particular techniques, you certainly are. In addition, these animals mate for life and are committed (See Footnote 5), just like you are eternally bound to CATTY.

Furthermore, black swans also have many symbolic meanings. In dreams, they symbolize "deep mysteries within us that are longing to be set free to express themselves creatively" (See Footnote 6) - perhaps in creative writing classes or beautifully nuanced emails. And of course, we all know the story of how the ugly duckling turned into a swan, which you may believe applies to you despite the fact that you were eliminated from the Swan contest of yore* because your photo wasn't ugly enough.

And did you know that for many years, the eggs of black swans were used as a main ingredient in Ovaltine in New Zealand, with the manufacturers turning to chicken eggs only in 1968 when a storm diminished the swan population in the area? (See Footnote 7). That has nothing to do with you but is merely a fun fact.

In closing: When one sees a white swan, one thinks "Nice enough but overdone, isn't it? All those tacky postcards, English gardens, Swan Lake. A bit pedestrian, really." But a black swan? "Now that's something special," one thinks to oneself. "I'm lucky to have seen that in my lifetime." And when you not only get to see one, but have one as a lifelong, amazing, inspiring, lovetank-filling friend - well that is even specialer. Happy Birthday Lbomb - welcome to my decade!

Footnotes (See Footnote 8)
1. Your displeasure with the fact that you never get to choose the tradition is duly noted and on record. You will get to have input next year, promise.
2. The animal, not Natalie Portman in the movie of the same name.
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Swan
4. http://blogs.ngm.com/blog_central/2010/12/black-swans-competitive-in-ballet-cooperative-in-nature.html
5. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Swan
6. http://www.whats-your-sign.com/swan-meaning-and-symbolism.html
7. http://blogs.ngm.com/blog_central/2010/12/black-swans-competitive-in-ballet-cooperative-in-nature.html
8. Yes, I know I could have hyperlinked everything directly in text but this is funnier.

Bev Oda ...

2011-03-01T22:46:00.002-05:00

And, in hi-larious other news as reported by Scott Feschuk (best.writer.ever at Macleans) here is the latest re: Bev Oda.

McDonald’s clerk: Would you like fries with that, ma’am?

/ John Baird bursts through the door

Baird: The minister has been very clear that she made the decision NOT to have fries. This is the kind of responsibility that ministers are expected to exercise at every meal, and the minister has made the decision. The minister made the right decision. She made the correct decision. I believe she made the courageous decision and did the right thing.

Oda: But I’m actually kind of hungry and–

/ Rona Ambrose steps in front of Oda.

Baird: The minister was very clear that she, and she alone, made the decision not to have fries. The minister made the decision to focus on her Filet o’ Fish and her medium Sprite. She made the right decision. She has always been very clear. She said it before. She repeated it again. The minister has done an outstanding job of ordering. Only in our country would a minister face questions about making the clear decision NOT to have fries with that.

Oda: So, so hungry…

McDonald’s clerk: Um, I think she wants some fries.

Baird: The McDonald’s clerk can form his own opinions about what the minister should order, but he does not have the right to decide what the facts of the order are. The minister – and the minister alone – decided not to have fries with that. That was her decision and it remains her decision. She should be applauded.

/ Oda licks the fry salt off a used plastic tray

McDonald’s clerk: Is that for here or to go?

Baird: The minister rejects the premise of the question.

a temporary madness

2011-02-28T21:37:00.000-05:00

"Love is a temporary madness; it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two."

Louis de Bernieres

bacon = heroin

2011-02-20T11:16:00.001-05:00

AWESOME ARTICLE

Bacon and cheesecake can alter the brain in ways similar to heroin and cocaine, according to scientists who say they have found the most compelling proof yet that high-fat foods rewire the brain and drive the development of compulsive eating.

When rats raised on regular chow were suddenly given unrestricted access to a high-fat diet, they lost complete control over their eating. Not even mild foot shocks kept them from compulsively feasting on chocolate bars, cream-stuffed cakes, sausage, frosting and other highly palatable human foods. Within 40 days, their body weight had increased 25%.

5 more sleeps!

2011-02-18T16:42:00.003-05:00

Ladies - in five short sleeps we will all be together again. I can't wait to:

Talk smack
Eat too much
Lay around
Zing each other
Eat some more
Hear about your lives
Shop
Have another dessert
Take fabulous pictures of how fabulous we are
Wear matching outfits
and pet Jbear's belly

Basically, you know, the same thing we do most of the time we're together with the exception of an unborn CATTY member joining us. I. CAN'T. WAIT.

Happy Valentine's Day CATTY!

2011-02-14T07:00:00.004-05:00

I saw and liked this poem for you ladies written by Fernando Pessoa.

All love letters are
Ridiculous.
They wouldn't be love letters if they weren't
Ridiculous.

In my time I also wrote love letters
Equally, inevitably
Ridiculous.

Love letters, if there's love,
Must be
Ridiculous.

But in fact
Only those who've never written
Love letters
Are
Ridiculous.

If only I could go back
To when I wrote love letters
Without thinking how
Ridiculous.

The truth is that today
My memories
Of those love letters
Are what is
Ridiculous.

(All more-than-three-syllable words,
Along with unaccountable feelings,
Are naturally
Ridiculous.)

Exciting Moments Liveblog 2011

2011-02-12T23:32:00.004-05:00

6:30 Waiting in Le Rouge Homard. Exciting Moments.

7:00 Salad arrives. Exciting moments (Mr. Pysanka had clam chowder)

7:32 36 shrimp consumed by family of Jbear, Mr. P, Sister Bear and Reshree, adopted Bear. Exciting moments.

9:00 Eat Cake. Exciting moments.

9:01 Took picture of eating cake. Even excitinger moments.

9:10 Watched SNL. Exciting Moments.

9:35 Post on blog to incite jealousy. Best. Moment. Ever.

9:52 Added lens flare. Exciting Moments.

Happy Birthday Jbear!

2011-02-10T15:10:00.004-05:00

And, finally, because I’m always late to a party, I want to share a song that reminds me of Jbear. A long time ago and in a world far away (well, emotional far-away land, ironically only a couple cubicles over) I went through a rough time. And Jbear in her infinite wisdom sent me a mixed CD and I listened to this song on repeat.

From indulging my desire for country music to singing Disney songs on a street in San Francisco to holding hands and petting hair in good times and in bad, I know that Jbear thinks of me. Yes, this song is about breaking up and wanting someone else to remember you, but I’m lucky because I know that Jbear and I aren’t breaking up, that the memories we have are ones that always run through my mind and that we, together, with CATTY can make it through anything. So, for my dear Jbear - HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Love love love, Meenalu

I woke up early this morning around four am
With the moon shining bright as headlights on the interstate
I pulled the covers over my head and tried to catch some sleep but thoughts of us kept keeping me awake
ever since you found yourself in someone else's arms
I've been trying my best to get along but that's okay there's nothing left to say but

CHORUS:Take your records, take your freedom
Take your memories, I don't need them
Take your space and take your reasons
But you'll think of me

And take your cap and leave my sweater
'Cause we have nothing left to weather
In fact I'll feel a whole lot better
But you'll think of me, you'll think of me

I went out driving trying to clear my head
I tried to sweep out all the ruins that my emotions left,
I guess I'm feeling just a little tired of this
And all the baggage that seems to still exist

It seems the only blessing I have left to my name
Is not knowing what we could have been
What we should have been
So take your records, take your freedom
Take your memories,
I don't need um

Take your space and take your reasons
But you'll think of me
And take your cap and leave my sweater
'Cause we have nothing left to weather
In fact I'll feel a whole lot better
But you'll think of me

Someday I'm gonna run across your mind
But don't worry, I'll be fine I'm gonna be alright
While you're sleeping with your pride
Wishing I could hold you tight
I'll be over you
And on with my life

So, take your records, take your freedom
Take your memories, I don't need um
And take your cap and leave my sweater
'Cause we have nothing left to weather
In fact I'll feel a whole lot better
But you'll think of me

Take your records, take your freedom
Take your memories, I don't need um
Take your space and all your reasons
But you'll think of me

And take your cap and leave my sweater
'Cause we've got nothing left to weather
In fact I'll feel a whole lot better
But you'll think of me, you'll think of me, yea
And you're gonna think of me

Oh someday baby, someday

Happy Birthday Jbear!!

2011-02-10T10:28:00.003-05:00

For this birthday song tribute to Jbear, I chose Empire State of Mind (Part 2) by Alicia Keys. It was Jbear that first brought me to NYC, and it was NYC that brought me together with both Jbear and Meenalu. It was such a fateful twist of fate that moved the relationship between Jbear and me from cheerful acquaintances to life-changing friends. It was July 2004 and I was living in South Africa. I was frustrated because I was working late at night and my computer stopped working so I had to move to a colleague’s empty office. My colleague’s computer had MSN messenger on it (mine didn’t) so I decided to sign on and take a break. Jbear was on and she mentioned that she was planning a trip to NYC for New Year’s with some friends (including Meenalu who I didn’t know at the time) and asked if I wanted to come along. Up until this point Jbear and I would meet up for the occasional brunch when I was in town, but we weren’t really in regular touch. I thought about her NYC invitation and thought, “why not? Jbear’s good people”. The next day I booked a plane ticket and the foundation for CATTY was laid.

So as I send out this birthday wish to Jbear today, I think back at just how much her friendship has, quite literally, altered the trajectory of my life. She’s my number one musical theatre diva, my Jersey Boys dance partner, the sushi boat captain. The past year has been intense, difficult in unimaginable ways. Through it all Jbear embodied such remarkable strength, insight, self-awareness, and honesty. This was a year that where we were flung into the deep end and I felt like we all managed to hang on and keep each other afloat.

Today also marks my favourite 17 days of the year: when Jbear and I are the same age. Booya!

Happy Birthday Jbear!

Alicia Keys - Empire State Of Mind Part 2

Oooh oooh, New York (2x)

Grew up in a town,
That is famous as a place of movie scenes
Noise is always loud
There are sirens all around
And the streets are mean
If I could make it here
I could make it anywhere
That’s what they say
Seeing my face in lights
Or my name in marquees found down Broadway

Even if it ain’t all it seems
I got a pocketful of dreams
Baby, I’m from

Chorus
New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There’s nothing you can’t do
Now you’re in New York
These streets will make you feel brand new
Big lights will inspire you
Hear it for New York, New York, New York

On the avenue, there ain’t never a curfew
Ladies work so hard
Such a melting pot on the corner selling rock
Preachers pray to GodHail a gypsy cab
Takes me down from Harlem to the Brooklyn Bridge
Someone sleeps tonight with a hunger
For more than from an empty fridge

I’m going to make it by any meansI got a pocketful of dreams
Baby, I’m from

Chorus
New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There’s nothing you can’t doNow you’re in New York
These streets will make you feel brand new
Big lights will inspire you
Hear it for New York, New York, New York

Chorus
One hand in the air for the big city
Street lights, big dreams, all looking pretty
No place in the world that can compared
Put your lighters in the air
Everybody say yeah, yeah yeah

Chorus
New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There’s nothing you can’t do
Now you’re in New York
These streets will make you feel brand new
Big lights will inspire you
Hear it for New York

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JBEAR!!!

2011-02-10T09:46:00.003-05:00

Dearest Jbear,

When CATTY came up with the genius idea of song lyrics for our birthday tradition, I thought it was awesome - so thoughtful! Potentially funny! All those things a birthday tradition should be! But I feel like song lyrics and music have unexpectedly become something more. Because one day when my heart was hurting, you sent me a song. And another one. Until one day, I sent you one back. In these past months of unexpected comradeship*, sharing these songs has helped ease the days. And more than that, it's reminded me of all those things about you that I find so inspiring: your selflessness and love for your friends and family, your total compassion for people's poky-outy bits and your willingess to share your own, your strength and grace even when things are really effing hard. So in that spirit, I don't have a song that has meaningful lyrics, I'm just sharing links to two artists: Tara Holloway (who I've loved for a long time) and Sara Bareilles (who I was introduced to a few weeks ago and have been trying really hard not to share because I wanted to save it for today).

http://www.myspace.com/tarahollowaymusic

http://www.myspace.com/sarabareilles

Happy Birthday Jbear! I am grateful for you every day and SO EXCITED to see you soon - garlic cheese butter, here we come!

Desiderata

2011-02-09T19:27:00.000-05:00

"Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery.

But let not this blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams; it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
-Max Ehrman

Humanitarian Aid and Catering Conflict

2011-02-08T11:07:00.003-05:00

Fascinating article that makes the argument that humanitarian aid can actually prolong a conflict. Especially interesting is the example of Sierra Leone - and how poverty/war porn makes us actually take action.

The conventional wisdom was that Sierra Leone’s civil war had been pure insanity: tens of thousands dead, many more maimed or wounded, and half the population displaced—all for nothing. But Polman had heard it suggested that the R.U.F.’s rampages had followed from “a rational, calculated strategy.” The idea was that the extreme violence had been “a deliberate attempt to drive up the price of peace.” Sure enough, Polman met a rebel leader in Makeni, who told her, “We’d worked harder than anyone for peace, but we got almost nothing in return.” Addressing Polman as a stand-in for the international community, he elaborated, “You people looked the other way all those years. . . . There was nothing to stop for. Everything was broken, and you people weren’t here to fix it.”

In the end, he claimed, the R.U.F. had escalated the horror of the war (and provoked the government, too, to escalate it) by deploying special “cut-hands gangs” to lop off civilian limbs. “It was only when you saw ever more amputees that you started paying attention to our fate,” he said. “Without the amputee factor, you people wouldn’t have come.” The U.N.’s mission in Sierra Leone was per capita the most expensive humanitarian relief operation in the world at the time. The old rebel believed that, instead of being vilified for the mutilations, he and his comrades should be thanked for rescuing their country.

Blind Date

2011-02-06T17:04:00.000-05:00

Blind Date - Steve Orlen

After Where were you born? and How long were you married?
Comes the first sip of wine, and after that the clash of cutlery
And the shuffling shoes of the waiter, then the silence so brief
You almost don't hear it. What are the smallest objects you have lost?
What sudden smells make you stop and think back?
And the struggle, the summoning up, the visualizing, the squinting into the past.
Now and then she interrupts and asks
For a story, a theory, speculations, interpretations.
How many close friends have died and where do you think they went
And how do you talk to them now that they're gone?
And your mind is eagerly opening, swelling, a cavern in which
What have been formerly hidden from you by the public din
Now dart around like bats with their insistent, intimate squeakings.
Did your mother like you? How do you start a conversation with a stranger?
By now, the answers come easier, more flowing, a zone, a spigot, a well.
What parts of yourself have you given up since leaving your home town?
Have you ever been lost? Broke? Hungry? Have you ever asked your sister
What she thought of you back then, when you were kids?
The conversation a call and response, and when she enters the taxi,
And waves bye-bye, you are left standing at the altar
In the Church of Lost Memories wearing that ridiculous tie,
Your hands in your pockets, jingling the change, sniffing the ancient air
For clues, for distillations, perfume fresh from the flowers.
Have you ever? Have you ever?

Sonnet 17

2011-02-01T22:14:00.000-05:00

Soneto XVII (Sonnet 17) by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were a rose made of salt or topaz
or an arrow of carnations spreading fire:
I love you the way certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you like the plant that never blooms,
but conceals within itself the light of those flowers;
and, thanks to your love, the darkness of my body
houses the suffocating aroma that arose from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, when, or where from;
I love you straightforwardly, with neither problems nor pride:
I love you thus, not knowing how to love you otherwise
than this way whereby neither ‘you’ nor ‘I’ exist…
so close that your hand on my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes grow heavy when I tire.

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio
o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.
Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva
dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo
el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.
Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,
sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.

ALAN! ALAN! ALAN!

2011-01-20T20:56:00.005-05:00

Just because I think this is hi-larious.

ps. You're welcome Meenalu

I'm a cyborg

2011-01-19T16:52:00.003-05:00

I upgraded from a crappy normal flip phone last year to the iPhone4 - only the most beautiful pseudo-brain that I could ever get. It not only holds all my contacts, but I can put a picture with those contacts. I can also:

text message SO EASILY
keep notes in the notes function (examples: things to buy online, groceries, people i don't like)
take pictures
take sepia toned pictures
take pictures and make them fatter
take pictures and then google-ize them AUTOMATICALLY
take video
play games
go on facebook
find out the temperature
use it as a level
calculate deals (or, you know, other calculator-y stuff)
use it as an alarm clock (i have two alarms set every morning - easy wakeup and GET YOUR ACE OUT OF BED)
use it as a flashlight (very powerful, but uses up a lot of battery)
many OTHER THINGS

and I've gotten used to saying that my iphone is my other brain - and then I saw this interesting post about what my love for my iphone means:

Technically, you're already a cyborg. If you keep your cell phone with you most of the time, especially if the earpiece is in place, I think we can call that arrangement an exobrain. Don't protest that your cellphone isn't part of your body just because you can leave it in your other pants. If a cyborg can remove its digital eye and leave it on a shelf as a surveillance device, and I think we all agree that it can, then your cellphone qualifies as part of your body. In fact, one of the benefits of being a cyborg is that you can remove and upgrade parts easily. So don't give me that "It's not attached to me" argument. You're already a cyborg. Deal with it.

I will have to deal with this. Yikes. Or, AWESOME.

Pourquoi anglais?

2011-01-13T19:55:00.001-05:00

Kitties - especially you western kitties- please gather round as I share with you the latest report commissioned by a Quebec teacher's union. In the interest of furthering scholarship and understanding root causes, this union wanted to dig deep and figure out why, oh whyyyyyy, would students be attracted to English schools over French schools. POURQUOI, they asked, POURQUOI!?

“Despite linguistic legislation, which for 33 years has had the objective of making French the normal and daily language of all Quebeckers, we must observe that English remains remarkably attractive today,” the study says.

“This attraction is reflected in the continuing interest of many francophone and allophone students who opt for English college studies, often despite a primary and secondary education entirely in French.”

I am at a loss to explain the reasoning behind these ungrateful francophone students abandoning their French schooling. Don't they know that they are ruining French culture? That French will no longer be the majority language in their province? That they are supposed to sacrifice their potential earning income to continue in French language studies instead of learning the barbarian language English?

Tom sawyer

2011-01-13T13:43:00.002-05:00

In the furor over an edition of Tom Sawyer coming out with the 'n word' replaced by 'slave', there's also been practical discussions that parents have with their children when sharing this childhood favorite. Michael Chabon (Ayelet Waldman's husband and a Pulitzer Prize winner) notes his own concerns when reading the book to his children:

But I knew—half-recollected, half-intuited—that there was some thorniness, that something in the book was going to bedevil bedtime.We encountered the first of what must be at least 200 instances of the word "nigger" on page 6, along with Jim himself.

Now I remembered!I flipped ahead, finding the word on almost every other page, twice or three times a page. The book was lousy with it.

"Guys," I said, putting it down. "We need to talk about this."I explained to them that because this book was written in Huck's own voice, and because in the time and place of its setting people of both races commonly referred to black people as "niggers," and because there were a number of black characters, major and minor, in the book, I was going to be obliged to say, or not to say, that word, a great many times.

I explained that saying the word made me extremely uncomfortable, that it was not a word I ever used, that some black people still used it sometimes to refer to each other, but that was importantly different, and that black people I had known were just as uncomfortable using the word around white people as white people were using it around them. I told them about my childhood friend Harry, mentioned in a prior post, who when discussing the Richard Pryor album Bicentennial Nigger with me, a fellow Pryor fan but, unlike Harry, a white boy, used to refer to it by the codename "Bice."

Next I reminded them that Mark Twain was a great artist, a moral man and, furthermore, an accurate writer. I said that as a writer myself the idea of somebody taking the words I had worked so hard to get absolutely correct and spatchcocking in whatever nonsense made them comfortable made me insane.

Then I asked them what they thought I ought to do, whenever I arrived at the word in the course of the next few months. I told them how I had substituted "slave" while we were reading Tom Sawyer, but that in this book the word was going to mean so vastly much more, and less, than that.

"You know what word I'm uncomfortable saying?" said my daughter, the nine-year-old. "Negro."

I remembered the earliest days of my consciousness of black people, when that was still, fadingly, a proper term. It had long since acquired distinct overtones of offensiveness, though it was not remotely, I thought, taboo. I could say it without feeling like I was licking a battery.

"Negro," I said. I really did not know what else to do.

"All right, let's give that a try." So we did, and stuck with it, and it kind of worked, but the every time I said "negro" I wondered if they, my new companions in bad faith, were feeling the acid charge of the true word in their minds.

"Hey, Dad," the little guy asked me at one point. "How come if you can't say you-know-what, when you were reading Tom Sawyer you kept saying INJUN Joe, because that's offensive, too."

"Because I'm an ass," I said. Only I didn't say "ass."

Oh We're Halfway There Part II

2011-01-06T19:57:00.003-05:00

To lighten the contemplative and somewhat heavy tone of the previous post-

Top 3 things that are AWESOME about being pregnant:

1. The clothing: OH MY GOODNESS! Maternity clothing is incredibly comfortable, I will be sad to return to non-elastic waist pants. I could use my maternity dress pants as pyjamas if I wanted to.
2. Not being as concerned with what I eat: I realize that every pregnancy is different, but it's taken me 20 weeks to start gaining weight. Which means that in my case- for the first 4 months or so, my doctor said "just eat, once you starting gaining weight we'll worry more about balance, but just eat whatever ever appeals to you for now". This directive, combined with my fancy elastic waist, could have been a recipe for disaster, but for the most part my appetite was curtailed during the first half of my pregnancy and large quantities of anything didn't appeal to me.
3. Thicker hair: My hair is as shiny as ever, but my usual fine/thin hair appears A LOT thicker! I realize this is temporary, but I will enjoy it while I can.

Top 3 list of things that is NOT AWESOME about being pregnant.

1. Selection of maternity clothes: Canada has a hideous selection of clothes available. Only two dedicated retail chains and a smattering of goods available at H&M and Old Navy. But I can't complain too much as a couple recent trips to the US gave me a much better selection, relatively speaking. I still miss the BR though, I can't wait to pledge allegiance to the Republic once again.

2. Frequently needing to eat - for me, as long as I snack regularly, I don't feel sick. This should be too difficult, but for someone who travels for work, I feel like I dedicate so much energy to remembering to pack snacks, hoping I packed enough snacks to last between refuelling stations, hoping meetings don't run too long and prevent me from snacking, etc. As Mr. Pysanka could attest, a lot of planning and focus goes into making sure I have the right snacks (I love fruit, almonds, crackers- most of which don't travel well for multiple days) and sufficient snacks to last during my time away from home.
3.Being tired - I LOVE going to bed a night, it is often my favorite part of the day. With the exception of 10am-12 and 3pm-430pm, I am tired. All. The. Time.

As a disclaimer, I realize that the above top 3 not awesomes are pretty mild. Like many women, I've been regaled with stories of horror from other women's pregnancies. I do realize how fortunate I am to have had a relatively easy pregnancy- but that is personal list, not a general overview of crappy symptoms. So there.

Oh, W're Half Way There Part I

2011-01-06T19:49:00.004-05:00

During one of my too frequent Air Canada flights, I heard a quote from Eat Pray Love which stated "Having a baby is like getting a tattoo on your face. You really need to be certain it's what you want before you commit." This made me smile because as the "tattoo on my face" (i.e. my stomach) gets bigger and bigger and ready or not I'm halfway through this adventure called gestation.

Mr. Pysanka recently sent me this article entitled "Making Time for Baby" from which I've found many of the authors' points rolling around in my head. My Mom will tell you that I like everything to be fair and equal and I was always quick to protest when my brother and I were not rewarded "equally." Side note: I recall one particular occasion when she came back from grocery shopping, having brought Mike a Marvel Comic AND a Pez dispenser and only one single digest issue of Betty & Veronica. What an injustice from my 8 year old perspective, Mike receiving two treats!

As a grown-up I try to structure the majority of my decisions around having my cake and eating it too, which I realize is not always possible and even when it is, can be incredibly exhausting. But relating back to the article- the debate surrounds the idea of having a baby and if you wait too long, the consequences can be devastating for those wanting children. While this particular issue is not particularly relevant to me, a lot of the peripheral issues about work and babies are.

Do I think women should be encouraged to have a baby younger in favour of increasing their odds of conceiving? Does this send the dangerous message to women to be ambitious, but not too ambitious, because you should be having children soon? Or does educating women on their fertility and when it begins to decline (age 27, by the way) only empower women, men and their families to make informed decisions about careers, family, education, etc?

These are the type of questions that roll around in my head these days. As well as the reality that being pregnant and having children usually changes one's professional life (yes, I realize this is an obvious truth for most). I've seen this already- I've been passed over for interesting work, kept less in the loop and less involved in strategic long term projects. I understand why- taking a year off means that there is no point in including you in longer term projects. But it still smarts when someone says "Jbear can you lead this project, oh wait- you're gone end of May, right?" This goes against my desire to have my cake and eat it too.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about having a baby, I am looking forward to the whole adventure. I realize how lucky I am to be in a position to have a baby and start a family with the husband I love. It's just that with every major life event comes change; changes in priorities, changes who you are and what you value and changes in your own identity. Thankfully we have 9 months (or in my current case, 20 weeks or less) to begin to wrap my head around the change.

But whose counting...?

Swagger wagon

2011-01-05T22:13:00.002-05:00

We've all had the nightmare of moving to the burbs and becoming boring, but for those in the minivan crowd, watch this video and know that it is possible to be AWESOME in the burbs.

Foreign Relations

2011-01-01T00:18:00.003-05:00

How Canada sees the rest of the world...

Happy Travels

2011-01-01T00:08:00.002-05:00

Mr. Pysanka came across this "venn" diagram which I found hi-larious. Ignoring the fact that it breaks almost all the venn diagram rules, it is a pretty funny picture. And for the record I experienced the TSA just this morning and they were perfect ladies and gentleman.

Cats are plotting to kill part 8

2010-12-31T10:13:00.002-05:00

This exposé of the evildoings of cats was created by Mathew Inman, of Mingle. His bravery in exposing the mindset of the terrorist cats is invaluable to us all. Have a happy new year, sir. A very happy new year.

Cats are plotting to kill part 7

2010-12-30T10:12:00.000-05:00

Cats are plotting to kill part 6

2010-12-28T10:12:00.000-05:00

Cats are plotting to kill part 5

2010-12-27T10:11:00.000-05:00

Cats are plotting to kill part 4

2010-12-26T10:11:00.000-05:00

Cats are plotting to kill part 3

2010-12-25T10:10:00.002-05:00

Cats are plotting to kill part 2

2010-12-23T10:09:00.001-05:00

Cats are plotting to kill part 1

2010-12-22T10:08:00.001-05:00

Cats are plotting to kill - an introduction

2010-12-21T10:04:00.005-05:00

This public service is CATTY's foray into the world of wikileaks - otherwise known as kitty-leaks. This new series of posts details how cats kill! The final post will show you where these pictures are from.

a learning experience

2010-12-15T11:41:00.003-05:00

I facilitate/teach a class through a program called Soliya which aims to improve the dialogue between students in the middle east and the west. It's pretty amazing, happens on the internet, and constantly teaches me things, even though I am the facilitator. Here's an article from the Chronicle of Higher Education about the program.

Last week I learned that people in Egypt are taught that the Six Day War was won by the Egyptians. This is clearly very different from what we are taught in the west (and confirmed by Wikipedia). Here we are taught that this was a decisive victory for the Israelis. In Egypt they are taught that they won the war, and that is how they got the Sinai back. It was truly an insight into the biases and narratives that frame different events. Hm.

Also, I've learned a lot on an emotional level. Last year we had a class where we talked about the most intense learning experiences in your life and one of our students shared this:

K: first event four years ago, i was a senior in high school and my family took in someone who had graduated from high school and didn't have anywhere to live. he was originally from jamaica. he was living with my family for a year, and then he committed suicide.

that has been the most intense thing i've ever gone through. i'd experienced death before - my grandparents and a classmate, so it wasn't that i wasn't aware of death but it was the idea of suicide and the feelings you associate that, like guilt, because he was living with us at the time. it's hard for me to talk about it still. he came home and i could tell that he was really upset.

at this point he was living with my family for up to a year. i don't know if you've had a non family member with you before.... but i was kind of sick of an outsider living in our house... always felt like i had to be polite. it soounds horrible, but i was kind of tired about it, and so i wasn't reaching out to him as much anymore.

i remember coming home, and he was on the couch, and i wanted to relax, but i could tell he was upset, so i asked him how he was, but i didn't turn and look at him.

my parents had turned him down on co-signing on a car, and they'd said no. he stormed out of the house. and as he left, i thought to myself, "please don't commit suicide". and the next morning, the police showed up and told us that he had killed himself.

for a while about it, i felt really guilty about it, like i hadn't done anything to shop him. and now i look at that, and for me,it's the most powerful thing that ever happened. because i realize my power in the situation, and i guess i don't blame myself for his death, but i don't blame myself for his death, but i recognize i could have been more genuine.

i realize that if i had been more genuine from the start i could have had more of an affect on his life. so now i'm more genuine in general. so now i try to carry that with me into my life. because you never really know what the other person is going through. so if someone cuts me off while i'm driving, i don't get road rage at them. they might be going through something really awful. it's made me try to be more genuine and real and more sensitive of the people around me.

I can talk about it sometimes without talking and other times it just hits me. I’m sorry I’m getting emotional.

cofacilitator: No need to be sorry, K! You’re talking about something that is very personal. Remember you’re in a safe space… (paraphrase)

K: Another thing that has had a really large impact on me was my study abraod experience in Kenya… Does someone else want to go or do you want me to keep goin? Okay I’ll keep going. number 2! my time in kenya.

I experienced a lot of tough things while i was there. the biggest idea was the one that happiness is a choice. i was living wiht a very poor family, and i was living right outside of the slums, and so i just saw a lot of poverty, but i still met some of the happiest people i've met in my whole life.

i met one woman whose son was murdered because he had the same name as a store robber, and the store owner ran into this woman's son, and when he asked the guy who so-and-so was, he said "yeah that's me", because he had the same name, then the store owner killed him. and her husband had recently died of HIV, and she'd just recovered from cancer. But she was hands-down the happiest person i've ever met.

When you hear some peoples' stories, you wonder how they hell they can be so happy. So I asked this woman, and she said: "hon, if we started complaining about things in our lives, we would never stop complaining. it's how you react that matters. and happiness is a choice."
I thought that was really profound and reflected a lot on what that means to me. so i feel like i've adopted it in my life.

Cofacilitator: K you’ve had two experiences that have seemed to really change how you approach situations in your life and the kind of attention you pay to people. One was an experience that was internal, where you realized something inside yourself, and the other one was external – someone told you something about being happy. Can you talk a little bit about what you’ve changed and how it’s made you feel?

K: I will let myself have natural reactions, but i've re-programmed my brain to how i will react to situations. my experience there made me recognize what i value in my life and prioritize those things.

Cofacilitator: What have you changed based on these experiences (again this is a paraphrase)

K: i try to keep everything in perspective. I used to think happiness was an emotion. I'd put it next to sadness or fear, in the same category. i don't put it in the category of feelings anymore. Because now i really do think it's a choice, because i've been around people who have everything they could want in their lives, and they're not happy, and the opposite is true. I think people have control over their happiness more than other things. That may sound ignorant if people are going through difficult things. But i don't know, i may be ignorant, but i feel like i've met people who have gone through difficult things and were still happy.

So i just try to share my story. I mean, it's okay to be sad. I'm not saying people can't be sad or upset or experience other emotions. but i think if people recognize that they have control over happiness, i think it can have a huge impact

Teach your children

2010-12-13T10:10:00.002-05:00

For the Mormon peeps, an interesting book review that showed why there is such strong faith in the LDS church:

Teens think this way because their parents do. Parents who show, by their words or their actions, that the tenets and practices of their faith are vague, unimportant, or only tenuously related to daily life, produce teenagers whose faith is vague, marginal, and unlikely to shape their actions and plans in any significant way. Parents who ask little of their children in terms of faith formation, but a great deal in terms of, say, getting into a good college, make a statement about priorities which their children trust and follow. Churches, youth ministries, and similar groups that trade “send[ing] young people out” for “rop[ing] young people in” wind up with teens who think church is fine, a good place to be—“nice.” And who then leave church to act just like all of their friends.

Mormons, by contrast, challenge their teenagers and require a lot of time, study, and leadership from them. Mormon parents rise at dawn to go over their church’s history and doctrine with their children. More than half of the Mormon youth in the study had given a presentation in church in the past six months. They frequently shared public testimony and felt that they were given some degree of decision-making power within their community. They shape their plans for the immediate future around strong cultural pressures toward mission trips and marriage. Whatever one thinks of the actual beliefs of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, it seems obvious that both adult Mormons and the teens who follow them really,really believe.

Can't wait for half baked!

2010-12-12T13:04:00.000-05:00

"A vacation is having nothing to do and all day to do it in."~Robert Orben

The solidest thing

2010-12-10T13:03:00.000-05:00

"I do not wish to treat friendships daintily, but with the roughest courage. When they are real, they are not glass threads or frost-work, but the solidest thing we know."

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Teenage Dream

2010-12-08T17:35:00.001-05:00

People (ahem, CATTY) - I love Glee. Love it long time. And I REALLY love this version of Teenage Dream - to the point where I listen to it at least 4 times in the morning. EVERY DAY. BECAUSE IT'S AWESOME. Enjoy!

Hotmail - we're over

2010-12-06T15:23:00.003-05:00

Like this author, I've also had my longest love affair with Hotmail. That sexy, free email account back when email first came out. I remember getting one that had my first initial and last name before anyone else did (not that anyone else has my last name).

For the longest time, I had a five letter password - FIVE LETTERS, PEOPLE - until it got hacked.

But once I started working, I'll admit, I was seduced by Outlook. She's a keeper - she keeps all the CATTY archives safely stored and is backed up by our corporate servers nightly. Outlook is functional though - not sexy.

Sorry, Hotmail, it wasn't you, it was me. No, wait, it was you. You and your annoying features. Your poor server time. Your space issues. Your frigidness. It was tough, I would try and try but you were just not responsive. I was thinking of leaving. I did leave, emotionally. I no longer sent emails from you. I told people my work email address. I checked in about once a month to make sure that all was well.

Then, CATTY forced me to get a gmail account. It's for the best. Gmail wasn't the catalyst to my leaving Hotmail, she just turned up at a time when I stopped loving Hotmail. You were good to me, Hotmail. But we're over.

My promiscuous relationships have also included corporate mail accounts, usually via Microsoft Outlook. But using Outlook is like sleeping with a hooker at a convention and sending the bill to your boss. There's no real pleasure to be found in Outlook, no intimacy, only relief. Outlook exists to satisfy your corporate manager and the freaks down at IT, not you or me.

Somewhere along the way, Hotmail changed. I'll be the first to admit that I changed, too. ...Like all relationships, Hotmail and I had devolved into a love-hate-coexistence groove. I hated the fact that Hotmail put limits on how many e-mails I could store without paying. I hated the limitation on the size of files I could send. I suspect that Hotmail hated me because I wanted all she provided and more but wasn't willing to pay.

Why was I unhappy? Hotmail, after all, had done a lot for me and never asked for much in return. Well, I just came to like Gmail better. It was svelte and fast and easily searchable while Hotmail was not. Also, Hotmail kept putting on weight with all of its new features—features that I didn't want. It also went through a bewildering set of name changes that spoke directly to its self-esteem problems: Hotmail became MSN Hotmail and then Windows Live Mail and then Windows Live Hotmail. Who do you think you're fooling, Hotmail? We all know you're the same broad we met back in 1996.

I wouldn't be writing this today if Hotmail had stuck to being Hotmail. But no, these days it wants to stand between me and the entire Web, monitoring my every step. When I sign on to collect Hotmail, it immediately starts hectoring me to connect my account to Facebook, MySpace, and LinkedIn. It implores me to "Share something new" with people in my network. It begs me to upload photos.

Lessons learned: children

2010-12-03T00:55:00.002-05:00

My cousin, her husband and her kids came to visit last weekend. I learned many things:

1. children that are related to me are ADORABLE. They have big googly eyes and big hair and are funny and entertaining.

2. children - whether related to me or not - are LOUD. I don't know how parents do it! Children scream for no reason, because it's fun. I don't remember the last time I screamed at someone at the top of my lungs, because I could.

3. children have fun playing in boxes, they don't need fancy toys. Seriously, the box was a car, a tent, a dog and a fire hazard.

4. everyone has fun playing with fake mustaches. EVERYONE.

Es lo que es

2010-12-02T15:17:00.002-05:00

A lovely article from the Globe and Mail today, about figuring out when you're ready, ready for it all.

We weren’t friends first: It was pure love at first glance on a Lavalife blind date. But we were in no hurry to do anything about that love. We felt no need to declare ourselves to our families and the world, so we just were...

“I’m ready for grandchildren,” my mother would say over pierogies.

“Are you thinking about getting married?” his would ask over tourtière.

“When are you going to stop throwing money away on rent and buy something?” his father’s octogenarian mother would admonish over quiche.

Our retorts always consisted of phrases like we’re not ready, what’s the hurry, we have our whole lives ahead of us, we’re living in the now, we’re still young. Of course, young is relative. To people who married in their late teens and had children in their early 20s, listening to us thirtysomethings go on like that made them want to reach for their antacids...

Watching my partner change his father’s diapers and massage his motionless limbs filled me with incredible urgency. Hearing him crying over the phone out of sheer frustration and helplessness made me feel stupid, naive and selfish. It all made my life seem absurdly banal and short. Watching death unfold before my eyes, watching the love of my life harden, change and mature with this loss caused a reaction I never expected. Suddenly, I was ready. I was ready for it all.

To my surprise, so was my husband-to-be. We never really talked about it. It seemed like the next steps were all a natural part of grieving. Blinding anger was first, then numbness and silence for many months. Afterward came peace and love, a clichéd pairing but true nonetheless.

...

We married in a tiny, private ceremony at City Hall just over a year after his father’s death. Just us and our impatient families. We bought a house two months after that with my mother-in-law’s help. Nearly a year into our marriage, we were expecting our first child.
My sister said, “Wow, we’re moving fast, aren’t we.”

I thought more like slow, painfully slow. Too slow to have my witty father-in-law see me marry his extraordinary son. Too slow to declare publicly my love for the best man I have ever known in front of the man who helped make him that good. Too slow to give my child the best grandfather possible. Too slow.

In Latin America they say, “Es lo que es.” It is what it is.

I wasn’t ready for what would finally make me ready. But it happened. Would I change any of it? Of course I would. Nevertheless, death and so much grief brought me more love than I had ever known before. And even though my husband and I just lost the 12-week pregnancy that brought us and our families so much joy after so much anguish, we still know that we’re ready.

Who doesn't love a cat narrative?

2010-11-30T16:24:00.006-05:00

So I have this job/career which compels me to work very long days most of the time and then lets me "work from home" (read: check my email in between loads of laundry and Law & Order commercial breaks) once in a while.

Today is such a day, and although I should be writing a briefing note, I found this little gem instead. I have watched it three times. Laughing out loud all three times.

For those of you who knew my brother, this is precisely the kind of thing we would watch and enjoy together. When we would get together, after dinner conversations began with "have you seen that video on youtube..." Pretty soon we were 5 or 6 videos in, trying to one up each other with more ridiculous/funnier material.

I think I will watch it one more time before returning to work.

the Ring of Me

2010-11-28T12:41:00.001-05:00

Another great Hax-ism:

Dear Carolyn:

A friend and I (both married for 10-plus years, with children) have a theory that will sound awful at first but I do really want your opinion.

We find, as we get older, that our friends who are single are very self-involved. As we take into consideration our husbands, our children, we inevitably end up being more aware of others in general. With our single friends, it's the polar opposite. They seem to really have a focus only on what is going on in their individual lives with little to no awareness of how they come off to other people.

This is something we have noticed for years. I'm sure I'll open the floodgates on this, but doesn't it make sense that because a person in a relationship/with children is constantly aware of others, they just tend to have a better perspective than just their own selfish one?
Washington, D.C.

Nope, it doesn't "make sense" to me.

People who are self-absorbed are going to be self-absorbed. When they have spouses and children (more the latter than the former) that usually means they expand their Ring of Me to include the spouse and kids. So, yes, they do care about and think about other people, technically - it's just that those other people are limited to their spawn and thus (in their eyes) to extensions of themselves. And, accordingly, they blather on about them without asking their friends (single or married, parents or not) anything about their lives.

People who aren't self-absorbed, on the other hand, will have an admirable capacity to consider the well-being of others in addition to and sometimes to the exclusion of their own. The ones with spouses and kids will often manifest this trait through generosity and inclusiveness in their approach to their extended families, friends, schools, neighborhoods, etc., as well as through more individual means.

The ones without spouses and kids, meanwhile, are often the ones families count on to travel farthest to family events, to nurse ailing parents, to work late when everyone else has to bail, to throw themselves into volunteer work in ways that people with more demanding ties simply can't, to be the best uncles and aunties (or Big Brothers and Big Sisters) around.

6 Years Later

2010-11-20T16:55:00.003-05:00

In 2004 a subset of CATTY and a couple good guy friends went to NYC. We were all fresh out of university and in the city for the first time. 6 years later a slightly different subset of CATTY + their significant others came back. Over the past six years we finished degrees, ended relationships, started many, many jobs, moved apartments, bought houses, moved into more apartments, started new relationships, got married (one of us did), travelled lots, shopped even more and continued to meet up across North American and Europe.

There aren't any other friends I would rather sit with on a sunny stoop in Brooklyn on a lazy Friday morning. Lbomb- is implied to be in the picture, although we've yet to photo shop her into it.

ps- Thanks to Mr.Pysanka for his patient photo taking skills.

Economics of happiness

2010-10-04T16:03:00.002-05:00

A super interesting blog post that explains what correlates to greater happiness...fascinating stuff that looks at your conditions, your set point and your voluntary conditions.

Here's the conclusion:

So to summarize, things that correlate to happiness include:
at least $75,000 income
spending money on other people and charity
spending money on experiences over material goods
living close to your job
being older
having a satisfying job
strong social ties
regular, monogamous sex
So you may be wasting your time:
trying to be extremely wealthy
wishing your were back in your 20s
buying a bunch of junk
enduring a lengthy commute to your job so you can have a bigger house
being Boo Radley
involuntary celibacy

In the end though, happiness really comes down to attitude and taking pleasure in the small things in life. I’ve known men who worked crappy jobs in deadbeat towns and still led happy lives. They learned to enjoy even the smallest of life’s pleasures. A good book, delicious food, and the beauty and refreshment of the outdoors. Instead of focusing on what they didn’t have, these men focused on all the things they had going for them. They fostered an attitude of gratitude.

Canadians are nice!

2010-09-27T09:10:00.003-05:00

Such a big girl

2010-09-19T23:01:00.001-05:00

And yes, that is a brooch on my sweater in the top left hand corner, thank you for asking.

Banana Pancakes*

2010-09-11T23:56:00.002-05:00

Maybe we can sleep in

I'll make you banana pancakes

Pretend like it's the weekend now

Happy Birthday Reshree!!!!

2010-08-20T13:38:00.002-05:00

I picked A Long Walk by Jill Scott as my lyrical meditation on Reshree. I felt this song captured so many aspects of my friendship with Resh: the effortlessly endless ability to talk, the romantical love, the ability to find understanding in silence, the constant thread of journey. From our frustrations and introspections 7 years ago when we were both trying to find international internships and calling each other all the time to lament the difficulty of the process to our frustrations and introspections now when we’re trying to figure what the H it means to be a grown up; Resh helps me to not feel crazy. She inspires me to say the things that you’re not supposed to say, to live life with imagination, to notice the size of people’s foreheads, and redefine the amount of cheese that is acceptable to eat in one sitting. I know that no matter where life flings us, I can always rely on Reshree’s sharp insights, clever wit, and non-judgemental support. Happy Birthday Reshree! You’ve made my well deeper and yet my heart still bursts in gratitude when I think about the impact your friendship has had on my life.

A Long Walk lyrics
Songwriters: Scott, Jill; Harris, Andre

You're here, I'm pleased, I really dig your company
Your style, your smile, your peace mentality
Lord, have mercy on me, I was blind, now I can see
What a king's supposed to be, baby I feel free, come on and go with me

Let's take a long walk around the park after dark
Find a spot for us to spark, conversation, verbal elation, stimulation
Share our situations, temptations, education, relaxations
Elevations, maybe we can talk about Surah 3118

Your background it ain't squeaky clean shit
Sometimes we all got to swim upstream
You ain't no saint, we all are sinners
But you put your good foot down and make your soul a winner

I respect that, man you're so phat
And you're all that, plus supreme
Then you're humble man I'm numb
Yo with feeling, I can feel everything that you bring

Let's take a long walk around the park after dark
Find a spot for us to spark, conversation, verbal elation, stimulation
Share our situations, temptations, education, relaxations
Elevations, maybe we can talk about revelations 3118

Or maybe we can see a movie
Or maybe we can see a play on Saturday
(Saturday)
Or maybe we can roll a tree
And feel the breeze and listen to a symphony
Or maybe chill and just be, or maybe

Maybe we can take a cruise and listen to the Roots
Or maybe eat some passion fruit
Or maybe cry to the blues
Or maybe we could just be silent

Come on, come on, let's take a long walk around the park after dark
Find a spot for us to spark, conversation, verbal elation, stimulation
Share our situations, temptations, education, relaxations
Elevations, maybe we can talk about something entire day

Or maybe we can see a movie
Or maybe we can see a play on Saturday
Or maybe we can roll a tree
And feel the breeze and listen to a symphony
Or maybe chill and just be, or maybe

Maybe we can take a cruise and listen to the Roots
Or maybe eat some passion fruit
Or maybe cry to the blues
Or maybe we could just be silent

Come on let's take a long walk around the park after dark
Find a spot for us to spark, conversation, verbal elation, stimulation
Share our situations, temptations, education, relaxations
Elevations, maybe baby, maybe we can save the nation
Come on, come on

Happy Birthday Reshreeeee!

2010-08-20T07:57:00.004-05:00

I didn't have to think of what musical my song with Reshree would come from (and, of course, it had to come from a musical). Rent, that feel good play about making it in New York while struggling with AIDS, is not at all our story. But, the music was the background to our lives at a time when I was struggling and Reshree was there for me. I had just broken up with the Catholic and was living alone (phthoooey) and over the course of the next couple weeks, I called Reshree in the middle of the night and she offered to come over at 1:30 in the morning, and she stayed at my house for an entire weekend watching Queer as Folk and not really talking, and she listened and she soothed and she helped me heal.

At some point over this time, we went to see Rent, and while we listened to the smooth velvety voice of Jesse L. Martin I could feel myself getting better. At the end of the movie, we lifted our voices and sang along in the movie theatre for the final parts of Seasons of Love, and I looked over and thought that I could not imagine a better friend than the one I had right there. My heart was full as I left that night. And, now this song, played on many a road trip, makes me remember that time and how in my time of need, and even in my times of happiness, Reshree makes me feel so lucky because she is friend. Happy birthday Reshreeeeee!

Seasons Of Love lyrics

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets
In midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, a year in the life?

How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love

Seasons of love
Seasons of love

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand journeys to plan
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned
Or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned
Or the way that she died

It's time now, to sing out
Though the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of friends

Remember the love
(Oh, you got to, you got to remember the love)
Remember the love
(You know that life is a gift from up above)
Remember the love
(Share love, give love, spread love)
Measure in love
(Measure, measure your life in love)

Seasons of love
Seasons of love
(Measure your life, measure your life in love)

Glimpse of Life at the Coop

2010-08-19T21:26:00.002-05:00

Jbear's Director - "My Nanny gets JCrew catalogues and whenever I pick one up I immediately think of you and say to myself "this looks like what Jenn wears every day"

Jbear - "Director, that is the best compliment you have ever given me, even counting professional ones."

Jbear's Director - "Really?"

Jbear - "Is that wrong?"

Happy Happy Birthday Reshree Dear

2010-08-19T21:01:00.004-05:00

This year's birthday tradition is a song, but before I get to that, a couple "yeah that was awesome" Reshree-centric moments.

- Remember when we rented that convertible for Seabring-It 2010 and Lbomb and I stuck you in the back seat and you froze the whole way to Quebec? And then when we got there, you realized that we had the heat on up front THE WHOLE TIME. Yeah, that was awesome.

- Remember when you came to Calgary for work and Mr.Pysanka made you a bowl of melted chocolate and peanut butter? Yeah, that was awesome.

I picked Randy Newman's "You've Got a Friend in Me" for my choice of birthday song for Reshree.

You've got a friend in me

When the road looks rough ahead

And you're miles and miles from your nice warm bed

You just remember what your old pal said Boy, you've got a friend in me

Yeah, you've got a friend in me

You've got a friend in me

If you got troubles I got them too

There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you

We stick together, we can see it through

Cause you've got a friend in me

Yeah, you've got a friend in me

Some other folks might be a little bit smarter than I am

Bigger and stronger too

Maybe But none of them Will ever love you The way I do

It's me and you, boy

And as the years go by,

Our friendship will never die

You're gonna see it's our destiny

You've got a friend in me

Yea You've got a friend in me

While initially this appears to be an easy out for song because it is about friends. But I picked it mainly for the simple loyalty expressed in the message. One of the best things about Reshree is that her friendship, her loyalty, her love for her friends is simple and true. I love that I don't need to worry about her judging me or wanting me to be something I'm not. I love her for her dress hoody wearing, cheese eating, no-showering ways and she values and appreciates her friends because of all their poky parts, not in spite of them. I know that when things are rough and maybe I'm miles from my nice warm bed, I can call and we will talk and maybe we will laugh or maybe we will cry. But when I get off the phone or when we finally go to sleep after too many hours of Taye Diggs* I am a happier person for spending time with her.

Happy Birthday RESHREE!

Text-free weekend

2010-08-13T15:13:00.003-05:00

3/4 of CATTY is meeting up this weekend for a retreat as we usher Lbomb into the world of commitment and freedom (she is going to the land of the free, after all) - and as part of CATTY's movement towards crafting rules for ourselves and others to live by, we decided that we would have a text-free weekend.

And by that I mean we commit to being text-free when we're supposed to be engaging. And so that means no texting in the backseat of whatever rental car we're in - we'll be talking to each other or singing random songs. No texting while shopping - we're supposed to be finding great deals and making fun of other people. No texting while eating - we're going to be too busy making fun of American portion sizes and eating off of each other's plates. Surprisingly, we were all very big advocates of this practice, to the point that Lbomb and Jbear also swore off emailing and bbm! I have a crappy phone so that's not really a concern of mine. (Reshree, of course, applauds this and all technology being cut off).

I leave you with an interesting snippet from an article about texting etiquette,

“Sorry,” he said, with a rueful glance. “I hate to be rude, but I’ve got to send my sister a quick text.”
His apologetic comment stopped me dead in my tracks.

I’d been whipping out my phone frequently throughout the day — to gasp over the ever-climbing temperature, Google a bit of trivia on IMDB, check Foursquare to see how friends were beating the scorching weather, flick through posts in my Twitter feed, read e-mail and breaking news alerts, skim through the updates on Facebook and of course, to type out and send text messages.

I was mortified.

I’m tethered to my phone. If I haven’t seen it for a few minutes, or it’s suspiciously silent, I start to wonder about its well-being and feel compelled to check it. That’s because it feels like a lifeline to my circle of friends, keeps me up to date and in the know and doubles as an extension of my brain. It’s a really easy way to settle a bet, plot out a route to the next bar or find that name of an actor or album that is hovering elusively on the tip of the tongue.

Generally, I try to operate by a few simple rules of etiquette with cellphones. For example, no phones on the dinner table (unless my dining companions have put theirs next to their plates first — then all bets are off). If I’m expecting to hear from someone, I rest the phone on a thigh so I can feel the buzz and the glow of the screen doesn’t distract from the conversation. During work meetings, films and readings, I refrain from checking my phone. If I simply can’t resist, I’ll do it from under the cloak of a handbag or a table.

We are addicted, we admit. But - more than that, this could be an example of terrorism! I mean, is it possible that technology hates our way of life? I don't know, but I do know this: when we have each other, who needs other people? I will let you know how the text-free weekend goes!

triumphs of ordinary time

2010-08-13T15:12:00.001-05:00

lovely paragraph on the chaos and joy of bebes:

But today, my four year old is dancing on a chair in her swim suit. No one told her we were going swimming, she just felt it might happen and because her mother is an impulsive person, it might. The three year old comes into the room. “Do you want to potty train today?” I ask. “No, I need to color.” And she marches to the table to demand paper for her latest magnum opus. My eight year old comes down to explain she stayed up reading and writing and illustrating a book and my eleven year old triumphantly explains how he beat his dad and older brother last night in an epic hour long magic game. These whimsies won’t get them scholarships and aren’t brag worthy to strangers in the way that “we just got back from the semi-finals in 10U baseball” or she’s performing at the Kennedy Center in the junior orchestra or he’s spending the summer studying immersion Sanskrit, but I wouldn’t change or trade those for this blessed abundant and lavish creative chaos I’ve both promoted and created. They’re my triumphs of ordinary time. And while this work won’t generate a tv spot where one of mine flashes a victorious smile and says, “Thanks Mom.” I can look at them in the midst of their clutter, crayons and music dance and song and feel my heart burst as I whisper a prayer to hold onto this moment and say, “Thanks God for these kids.” And mean it with all my heart.

fu la la la for president

2010-07-27T20:31:00.004-05:00

I'm not saying that Wyclef isn't a good singer, but seriously - potentially running for president of Haiti? That's what the National Post is saying:

Hip-hop star Wyclef Jean is set to announce his candidacy for president of Haiti, according to a report in an Ottawa-Gatineau newspaper.

Citing "a source close to the government" in Port-au-Prince, Le Droit reported that Mr. Jean is only waiting for paperwork to be finalized by next week's deadline.

he hasn't confirmed, but it may just be a matter of time.I'm not sure how I feel about this. But I do know I like his music.

Dangerous conversations are so much more interesting

2010-07-26T13:34:00.002-05:00

Fascinating summary of interesting conversations:

As a general rule, the more dangerous or inappropriate the conversation, the more interesting it is. You'll have to use your judgment to know when you've crossed the line.Also as a general rule, conversations about how people have or will interact are interesting, and conversations about objects are dull. So steer toward topics that involve human perceptions and feelings, and away from objects and things.

This, I think, is very true - if there's no clash, there's no interest.

Liking and loving

2010-07-22T11:53:00.001-05:00

Love Carolyn Hax. Love her (also, apparently, like her).

Dear Carolyn:
Clearly you are big into using "like" instead of "love." You make this substitution all the time. If you ever feel like expounding on it, I'd be curious.
Anonymous

Sure. Have you ever seen "Like never dies" on a movie poster? Heard a song called "Like is all you need"? Known anyone to hang on those three little words "I like you"?
I think it's safe to say that love is never in danger of being dismissed, discounted or taken for granted.

But like is routinely so. It's the consolation prize, the faint praise to be damned with.
Yet while like can endure without love ever having anything to do with it, love takes a beating when like isn't there to support it. Consider what happens when you don't like the way your beloved treats you or others around you -- or when you don't like what Beloved watches on TV or does for a living or uses to fill spare time; or what topics Beloved chooses to discuss, or how; or whom Beloved chooses to befriend or admire; or how much Beloved contributes to the household chores or coffers; or where Beloved pegs certain priorities.

It's very difficult to sustain love under the pressure of daily exposure to behaviors or traits you don't like -- whether this loved one is family, friend or mate. Even if it doesn't die outright, love can quickly become abstract.

Abstractions do have their place. Love in the abstract is what gets us up in the night when a child cries out, when we're desperate for sleep. It's what flies us cross-country to witness our close friend's wedding, knowing full well that said friend will have about 3.7 quality minutes to spend with us amid various hosting obligations. It's what moves us to account for someone else's well-being even when that person isn't present, and even when attending to their needs might force us to compromise our own.

But when it comes to sharing your day-to-day life without wanting to run screaming, a person's expressions, body language, conversation topics, diversions, quirks, tics and attitude with you need to be pleasing on a purely functional level.

And so when it comes to people writing in about practical problems with people they love, that's the first thing I urge them to consider: Do you like this person, fundamentally? Because that's the bed where the abstraction of love can reliably come to lay its head.

musical mixing

2010-07-18T22:18:00.002-05:00

Folks, I'm not super artsy or creative, but I like to think that I can appreciate people and projects that are (well, it works sometimes because usually I'm judgmental).

All that to say, check out this super interesting musical project - a guy solicited spoken word and musical bits from youtube and you can make your own music. It sounds a little bit weird when I try to explain it, but this guy has 20 short videos on this website, and you can start them - maybe 4 or 5, starting 10 seconds apart and you'll have a new/weird/fascinating music mix. Try it. It's awesome!

Alive

2010-07-09T10:21:00.003-05:00

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."-Howard Thurman