Bellini-induced Brain Freeze

"No" means "later."

2008-09-01T22:17:00.002-06:00

Well, the inevitable has happened. My best friend is officially engaged, the wedding date has be chosen, everything is ploughing along.

She broke the news to me over the phone. It's true we rarely get to find time together anymore. Life gets in the way like that.

"Will you be my maid of honor?" she asked.

How could I say "no" to my best friend?! And thus, I fulfilled Civic's prophecy (albeit I fulfilled his prophecy but in relation to a different friend) since he pretty much stood firm on the fact that I would not be able to decline such an "honor" when it comes to a friend...regardless of how much I frown upon the relationship.

Talk about trust, huh? She wants me to be right beside her at the wedding knowing full well that if anyone were to say a peep when the priest asks "does anyone object to this union?" I would be the most likely person to speak up. I'm just saying.

But I cannot deny the fact that he has done well in becoming a part of his daughter's life, the same daughter for which he refused to take any responsibility in the beginning. As far as I know he treats my best friend well. They have become a family, despite all the speculation. He still smokes around my goddaughter and I know my best friend smokes a lot more often now as a result. That still frustrates me. What can I do? I'm just the godmother. But smoking aside, I think the odds are in their favor.

Seriousness aside, though, if I keep up my good work I'm going to be one sexay maid of honor. :D

Let's blog, shall we?

2008-08-24T23:55:00.002-06:00

2008 has become even better still since the last time I raved about how awesome 2008 has been. I won some super shopping money in a charity lottery, so I think I will go spoil myself with a new gadget of some sort. I ALSO (not in the same lottery) won two tickets to Vegas. Fantastic! I hope to coordinate it with some free nights I have for Anaheim and get myself reacquainted with the Magic Kingdom (it's been over 15 years now) and get my Vegas on at the same time. Maybe even get to meet Mijo finally after all these years!

I am constantly shopping these days what with the transition in seasons and my need for clothes that fit and flatter. The summer clearances have been amazing and fortunately the items will transition well into the fall. I am now bordering on high-school-sized depending on the cut of the clothes. It is unreal.

It is sad to see the summer winding down. The days are shorter, the evenings are cooler, and weekday outings will become less frequent. I haven't even had a halo halo yet this summer!

Ze Great '08

2008-08-07T12:54:00.002-06:00

A fantastic year thus far, to be sure. I have so much to be thankful for and thrilled about I could easily say 2008 has been one of my best years ever.

Vegas, baby!
New York NEW YORK
35 pounds lighter and still going! Slowly but surely...
Fantastic family time in Alaska
Montreal, here I come!
I met and dated a hawt dancing guy so my confidence has been reaffirmed. (Although I still miss my brainiac not-so-social boy... it's nice to know I can play in the same league as the "beautiful people.")
I got to ride in a helicopter. Woohoo!

I have seen some bloggers start up "bucket lists" and although I never like to follow trends I thought this was an excellent idea. I thought it would be easy to come up with 1000 things that I have yet to do and would like to do but I am having a bit of writer's block. I haven't even come up with 100! I thought I wouldn't put anything that I have already done on there but I've tossed them in since I would like to check them off my list (ie. riding in a helicopter). Hopefully at some point I'll have a substantial list to share with everyone but for now I'll keep it under wraps until I have developed it better. But this year has been so great for me I can't imagine not checking off more on my list in the coming months so it will be hard to keep the list long!

Shrink-wrap

2008-07-15T23:41:00.003-06:00

Last week was the traditional Calgary gong-show we all know (and some love) as the Calgary Stampede. And while I still had a great time this year the exhibition grounds left me wanting. I do not usually complain about the price the way others do. I figure it's only once a year and I can't understand the griping over the cost of admission when it is comparable to going to a first-screening movie. But this time I did notice the prices getting gouge-y once you were already in the gates. 9 dollars for a "pizza on a stick" or a "london broil cheesesteak" is simply uncalled for. A 2 dollar increase in my "Whack-A-Mole" -- plus the hunch that the carnies are starting to recognize me and try to keep me off my skilled game -- takes quite a bit of fun out of it. But even things that were still, I suppose, reasonably priced, were not as enjoyable as they once were. After one mini-donut I really did not feel like having any more. The smells of all the food stands and all the smokers all around me seemed to have a greater impact on me than in past years. Moreover, though I once used to be able to conquer every single ride on the midway these days those spinny rides are starting to make me queasy. My poor future babies! Who will ride with them? Their mama will be a total pansy!

Again, Daisy's birthday could be and was celebrated during Stampede week. We tried out Seven Restolounge which had always piqued my curiosity. I looked forward to the opportunity to get a bit glammed up and have a great time being fabulous with my friends. However, once I started ransacking my closet when outfit after coordinated outfit hung off of me like sacks of rice I was at a loss for a fabulous ensemble to wear to the affair. In the end I found an old Asian-inspired halter top and my shorties with my snazzy new Vixen belt to break up the monotony...but I felt like somewhat of a hooch as it has been at least a couple of years since I had bared that much skin.

3 martinis later (and yummy ones, to boot!) and all my discomfort was long gone. I felt fabulous and although my outfit wasn't one I had originally had in mind I was quite happy with how my improving body was presented in it.

A blessing in disguise since I am headed on holidays this coming weekend. If I had just assumed that all my clothes would still fit me I would have ended up with no clothes to wear on my vacation! An emergency shopping trip with my mom rectified all of that. But I still need to pack it all.

The funny thing was even though I let myself slide quite a few times -- who can keep their diets when it's Stampede week?! -- my body was still losing the inches. I tried on a few of my little sister's clothes and was amazed that they know fit me. No unsightly bulges or pinches or anything! I still cannot believe how many sizes I have lost. And to confirm all this I bought a pair of shorts for the trip this evening in the next smallest size on blind faith and lo and behold they fit me divinely! I am on a super-high right now. The weight may not be down to where I thought I should be by now but the difference in size is more than I was expecting at this point. And truly, that's really all that matters to me in the long run. I just want to look my hottest in the years to come.

Missing: one Robin Thicke CD

2008-06-25T23:36:00.002-06:00

I bought his Evolution CD on Boxing Day last year and now I have misplaced it somewhere. To top it all off I had to get a new computer recently and, although I could have sworn I backed up my iTunes library to my external hard drive, once I had iTunes and everything up and running again I only had a 5th of the music I used to own. For the CDs I physically own this is not such a big deal -- just an inconvenience -- but for everything else, augh!

Anyway, finding this one particular CD out of my many has become my obsession. Everyone knows how I have songs that create the soundrack to my life. This year/guy it's Robin Thicke's Lost Without You that reminds me of Salsero. What's different this time around is that it isn't a song I heard playing when I met him, or a song he gave me that always reminds me of him, it's just the feeling I get about him. I love that song and it's sensual and lovey dovey. Good grief. But there you go, that's my song for Salsero.

Sadly I think the Salsero thing will be very short-lived. Although I was proud that we kept things under control on the Saturday a couple of days later we let things really get out of hand. In typical fashion I got weirded out and shut down. In fairness he asked me what was going on in my head but I was having none of that discussion. We tried talking again a few days later but there was no getting past the awkwardness. I haven't heard from him since and I don't blame him. It's easier to cut out the drama earlier rather than later.

Posey reminded me to just live my life the same grand way as always. Salsero and I may cross paths again one day. We were too impulsive and in the process I screwed myself out of an awesome dance partner. Le sigh.

But as always it does not mean that I love the song any less. Even with all my mixed emotions regarding Berger I still love my "Berger" songs. Luckily the experiences never ruin the music for me.

This has been an incredible year thus far and it's only half done! I got to party in Vegas with my girls, explore New York (a major obsession, as you all know) with Civic, found an awesome guy (may have lost said awesome guy, but it was still an awesome month then, haha) and my family and I are headed out on an Alaskan cruise in less than a month. I finally got promoted and still manage to attain top in my division on a regular basis so I must be doing something right there. And to top it all off a former manager who I miss will be coming back to work with me by the end of the summer. Oh, and I'm halfway to my goal weight-wise but already I am only one size away from my original goal size. I see myself tweaking those goals soon enough.

2008 has definitely been good to me already. I hope it continues.

Hot Child in the City

2008-06-15T21:41:00.002-06:00

30+ pounds gone thus far! Size-wise I have turned back time a whole 10 years. I could not be happier right now, it is insanely encouraging.

Of course, with the new improved me comes even more confidence...like I really needed more of that! All the clothing options that I would not have even considered with my previous figure have me itching to go on a mad shopping spree; but all in due time. Already the "interim" pants and capris I bought a month to two months ago are starting to get baggy again. Some pants just look ridiculous on me now, Latina says she has to laugh since she thinks I look amusing in my baggy clothes. Particularly since I have never been one to wear baggy clothes to begin with.

I finally went on date number 2 with the dance fan. We'll call him Salsero. Yes, I know, going this long between dates sounds pretty sketchy; I see it, too. But if he's weighing out his other options right now (not saying he is, but it's a definite possibility) there isn't really much I can do but continue to shine and hope he takes notice.

He had been talking smack for months telling me he would someday wear me out on the dancefloor and last night he made good on his promise. :P He is an uber excellent dancer with insane stamina. After watching a movie together we did not get to SoHo until 11:30 and it was pretty much non-stop with him until last call. To maintain some pride I have to add that he would not have won his little challenge had I been wearing more comfortable shoes. :P

My problem with guys that I am interested in is my timing. Aidan being my prime example of this. (From hereon in I'll refer to Aidan as Berger for my own personal reasons) With Berger I played it cool for far too long and by the time I admitted how I felt he had already found himself someone else. It became a vicious cycle with him. He would come back around and admit he wasn't seeing anyone and I would again play it cool. Soon enough he would be with another girl. Mind you, I'm not naive. I realize he's treating me like some sort of backup plan, which is why I never run to him the moment he tells me he's available. Yet somehow I still hurt myself, MYSELF!!! by giving myself all this stupid false hope that maybe it is finally my turn at a shot with Berger. Anyway, enough about him, this is about my uber date with Salsero...

To summarize the last paragraph: timing is a big issue with me and guys that I like. To save face and avoid rejection I tend to let the guy call the shots the whole time I'm getting to know them. It does not help any that they can play this game just as well as I; their intentions or level of interest are usually not clear to me. Thankfully, Salsero gave me a clear signal for a go-ahead. After wondering during the movie about what he was thinking, was I just a friend to chill with, etc etc when in the middle of a dance at the club he picked up my chin and leaned in for a kiss. Well, that's all I needed! :P

Another issue of mine: Sadly I'm sure I am not known for keeping myself in check, physically-speaking, when it comes to having a bit of fun. On occasion I have been quite reckless. This time around I'm happy to report that we kept things PG-13. It could have easily gotten out of hand but it was all good. And I do mean ALL. GOOD. An older lady did come up to us and told (warned? Who knows what she meant at the time) him that we were putting on quite a show. But in my defense things didn't even really get all that hot until they left. There were moves he pulled on me that had me thinking "who does this guy think he is pinning me up like this on the dance floor?!" but in the end it was all so intoxicating. Here I was feeling fabulous from all my good work at losing weight, I had a hot guy with me at one of my favorite clubs, and he was only there to dance with me and NOONE else. It's enough to get to a girl's head. At one point, even, this random girl (and for the record, SoHo NEVER used to be the type of club where you would expect this kind of behavior going on. A place like such is called "Cowboys." Look it up.) started backing up against me, sandwiching me between her and Salsero and while Salsero chuckled about it...I'm sure most guys would appreciate that kind of attention...he must have also sensed that I was not feeling that kind of scene and kept her from getting closer to me.

On the flip side, it also felt kind of weird to only dance with one guy the whole night. His dancing skills did not leave me wanting for other partners, of course. But I realized I was pretty much "with" him for the evening be that good or bad, and pretty much all the other guys on the dancefloor knew it so chances of them even asking me (not that an opportunity ever presented itself) for a dance were pretty much nil.

After my feet started to surrender in protest we went and got our coats. I had worn a pair of heels taller than I usually wear when dancing since I hadn't hemmed my newest (and most flattering for the time being) pair of jeans so it made for a harder time on my legs on the dancefloor. I don't think my thighs have had that great of a workout in a really long time. We had a little more high school fun in his car before we started off for my house. I guess I will have to come up with a better analogy than that in the future...high school fun these days is certainly not the same kind of high school fun I was used to way back when. Gosh, I just dated myself there.

While it was still a great end to the evening I could not help thinking it was a little too smooth. He knew exactly what he was doing every moment and everything just flowed without pause or awkwardness. I had never made out with a "game master" like that, haha.

But that smoothness has to give me some pause, to be sure. I had such an amazing time last night that I could easily be a girl and let it all get to my head and overanalyze everything to death but I must do my best not to. But I still wouldn't mind if a third date came up soon. Would not mind at all at all at all.

Duty Free

2008-05-25T18:41:00.003-06:00

Early October 2007. The setting: a south end Tim Horton's. The characters: Leah, Flag Girl, and Flag Girl's pal, V. A little bit of girl gripes before a little birthday dance-a-thon for darling Flag Girl. (The following may not be word for word but the sentiment is quite vivid in my memory.)

...I don't know what it was. I was not interested in the guy, he was probably not interested in me either, but he treated me with a great deal of respect. A girl who just came in to line up like all the rest just so she could get her caffeine fix. From his accent it was fairly apparent he was not from around here...and yet he had more charm and was more of a gentleman than any homegrown guys I have ever met.

Mm hmm, I absolutely know what you are talking about. It is embarassing to think that our own local guys were not raised properly by their mothers. I am sure it is not the case at all, but they certainly do behave that way at times.

Yes! As if they have some sort of arrested development at our age. It is as if they were not taught some certain level of...

...social skills.

Thank you! That is the perfect word for it! Our men lack social skills that we should be accustomed to at our age.

/scene

Imagine my surprise when I came across this article in a recent edition of our Calgary Herald.

Just like that night spent at one of our friendly Tim Horton's I found myself nodding in agreement with a lot of what these women had to say. In fact I wish I had been given the opportunity to add my two cents during their interview. I am sure we would have all had a lot in common to talk about.

But moving away just to find a great guy?! I have not reached the end of THAT rope quite yet. Do not get me wrong; I think these women are really bold and they are definitely on to something...and who would ever complain about falling in love in New York City (CERTAINLY not I!!!) but I myself am just not there yet. Not yet.

I know there are decent, wonderful guys in my city. They are just few and far between.

The past few dates (or non-dates, as the case may be) have all been duds. I even entertained the idea of dating an older Yellow Fever man with an extreme obsession and focus on getting himself into a committed relationship. RED FLAG RED FLAG SIRENS BLAZING RUN FOR COVER! You do not even want to know how this guy broke off the date...but let it be known that this man is almost 10 years my senior and his break-off M.O. was textbook junior high school. Yeah, I was a tad pissed...but it was my own fault for lowering my standards for a second and contemplating a guy who was absolutely not my style. At least disaster was averted, no?

In a young city of a million there could even be transplants to my hometown; up those odds. Transplants could be the equivalent of an import -- keeping with the spirit of the Herald article -- and everyone knows imports can be quite snazzy and fun.

What else can a girl do but keep her head up and just keep on doing her thing with confidence? Nothing wrong with that. And to a guy who can actually step up and approach her could go all the spoils. Well, maybe not ALL of them.

But if it ever came to that point where I had to look abroad...well, I'm a natural-born cross-border shopper.

Some like it old

2008-05-20T15:46:00.002-06:00

My computer is terminally ill, once again...I think. My brother (I think I used to refer to him as "Weird Kid" here) would call it "a piece," I'm sure. By no means am I a computer whiz but it seems to be doing the same thing it did the last time...which in my opinion was not that very long ago. If I have to buy another power supply and that thing with un"popped" capacitors then I may as well junk this old monstrosity and buy myself a new computer. *sigh* An expense I really do not need right now.

But everyone loves having new things. I am definitely not an exception. With my (exciting) progress in weight-loss-land I am itching to buy myself some new clothes. However, common sense and my mother tell me to wait a while and not go buck-wild on a wardrobe overhaul. At the very least I need new bottoms. Belts, accessories I have never been a fan of functionally, have become my friend. But they can only do so much. On a recent outing with the big bois I had to cinch up my urban shorts so much I winced at the possibility that, by some freak accident, someone would see my shirt lift up and the whole world would see how much fabric I had bunched around my waist. Thank goodness for the currently trendy (though questionable and hideous) pregnancy-style tops! You could hide a midget under there!

On the flip-side, I do not want to sound like a Jenny-Craig-esque spokesperson but it is amazing how much room I have in my old pants. So much that I *almost* want to tsk at myself in disgust that I ever got so big in the first place. But really, back when I fit into those clothes, I didn't feel so bad about myself. I guess it is all relative. Though if anyone were to ask me I would have to say I do not miss the old me...I'll take the "new" me anyday.

So this past long weekend was somewhat a treat to myself. While killing time with the big bois at the casino before we continued on with Mr J's birthday plans I sat down at a nickel slot machine for 5 minutes, slipped in my 20 dollar "entertainment fee" and cashed out with almost 300 bucks! Ka-ching ka-ching! It was like Las Vegas ALL OVER AGAIN. I knew there was better ways to use that 300 bucks but, what the hey, I bought myself some new clothes. I always use to scoff at those who were obsessed over the number on the tag of their clothes, but who am I kidding, it was a thrill to buy clothes with smaller numbers on them!

Ok, enough about Le and her self-obsession! Ok, maybe not. This is MY blog, after all.

I know this is completely jumping the gun but I think I may have found a guy that can keep up with me. A salsa fan, a hip-hop fan...well, a dancing fan in general. Great taste in music, movies, clothes, cars; unfortunately it is starting to sound a little shallow at this point but trust me. All the important elements are there. He's bright, dedicated to his post-secondary ambitions (not just the bare minimum degree for this guy!), incredibly sweet and charming. The guy has it all. I would be lucky to nab a guy like him, but I would even love to just be a friend of his. A girl like me definitely deserves to hang with great people like him. My days of needing a dance partner could be at a stop-search!

Oh, and if Flag-girl and/or her friend, V, are reading this: the new guy is not from around here. It only feeds into our theory about local guys lacking social skills and the like. Sad but true.

On the flip-side, why do I still miss "my" Aidan?! Good grief, a girl is never satisfied.

Got to get you into my life, into my life

2008-04-23T21:32:00.002-06:00

A tall, dark, and handsome man (cliche, huh?) has been haunting my dreams.

Ok, so it has only been two dreams. Two dreams over two months. But it appears to me that it is becoming a mini-series of sorts. Or at least I hope it is. I wouldn't mind. :P

In the first dream he introduced himself to me while we were sitting in a classroom. Although I wish that there were potential for deja vu here I have not attended any classes in almost 6 years. Mind you with Civic heading back to university our group has had several discussions as to whether the rest of us have felt like going back to school. And if so, what would we take the next time around? For a lack of anything better coming to mind I always choose accounting. I guess I still think that I have/had the potential for becoming a boring bean-counter. I'm not sure if Mr Dark-and-Yummy and I meet in an accounting class; maybe it's my subconscious' hokey way of trying to tempt me back into school.

In the second dream, he surprises me at a carnival much like the Stampede. Except this carnival was set on my beloved 17th Avenue to commemorate the opening of the new C-Train station. And at this carnival I was playing a game that involved shooting, basketball, and Madison Square Garden. My "team" was all full so the carnie sat me off to one side as the basketball part of the game got underway.

Next thing I know an arm slinks its way around my waist and he tells me "maybe I will meet you there."

Meet me where?! Augh!

And that's the ONLY coherent thing I can remember him saying in either dream. In dream #2 we just lounged there on the carnival bench (can you even lounge on those things?!) cuddling and talking about what, I wish I knew. It was like he was on mute, I could hear the carnival all around me but I couldn't hear him at all. But I remember feeling wonderful and at ease just lazing there with him. He was Eastern European, would be my guess. A little scruffy but short, styled hair. He reminded me a bit of Maksim Chmerkovskiy. If I could nab myself my very own Maks I would not be complaining at all!

"...the stars all aligned and thus a 'fitter' Leah was born"

2008-03-09T17:22:00.004-06:00

It was going to happen sooner or later.

There was a time in my life when I was anti-diet. I was all for exercise; no problems with that. But tell me I am DENIED food and I will eat it right in front of you just to be defiant. What a miserable life it would be if I could not drink when I wanted, eat what I wanted, indulge how I wanted...I'm sure you catch my drift.

A few years back I got to know an uber sweet guy who turned out to be an Atkins-diet success story. He showed me a picture of him back in high school which was a great lot different to the guy who I met in person. I was incredibly impressed and admired his insane dedication, but there was no way you could ever get me to give up my carbs. NO. WAY.

Unfortunately, he has also become a cautionary tale of an example. I did not get to see him often but when I did he would be bigger than he was the time before. And the time before that. And the time before that. I have not seen him lately -- and I hope that he has not gone back to his old high school ways -- but I felt sad that he was slipping back into old routines. Not sure why I felt so bad...it wasn't MY body...but it sure was a shame to see all his hard work drift away.

As for me the workouts just were not getting me the results I was hoping for. I was feeling better, but the inches and pounds were not budging at all. It got to a point where I started making excuses not to go; after all, there was no real encouragement keeping me on track.

Then I started to slide down that same slope. I was not feeling all that great anymore...my self-image was unsatisfactory (and this was coming from a girl who usually LOVES herself to bits). I knew I should get back into the gym but the excuses kept on coming and I just did not feel like forcing myself into the gym.

Luckily, Weird Kid started going to a gym close to home so that got me into quasi-regular workouts with no excuse to skip out.

Later still, I switched offices and learned of how my manager used to be a lot heavier and how she went (and apparently succeeded) on the South Beach Diet. After hearing a bit about the basics of the diet I found myself actually contemplating a diet. No lie! A week later I was at my computer ordering the book online.

The more I read the book the more I convinced myself that this was a diet I could actually live with. Please don't misunderstand, I'm not trying to preach about the wonders of the South Beach Diet, it just became something that would work for me.

As added motivation I have caught a few episodes of the Biggest Loser: Couples. (Mom loves those reality shows!) I became emotionally bonded to one of the characters/contestants. She weighed the same as me at the beginning (edit: actually, after looking at the website she actually started out heavier than me -- but now she is lighter than me so that is still inspiring) and she has since lost so much. Whenever I catch the show I am impressed by her progress and motivated to keep on keeping on. Her arms are looking great! In my extreme vanity I consider myself just as pretty as her and I am convinced that I will only become prettier as the weight fades away...much like her.

On a side note: Mom was shocked when I admitted to how much I weigh. To my credit I do not think anyone could ever guess how much I weighed (a few friends whom I have worked out with in the past knew my real weight, but that's about it) and even when I first started tuning into Biggest Loser I could not believe the size of some of the contestants. They did not weigh much more than me but in my opinion they looked so much worse off. I seriously had to consider whether I had an over-inflated (no pun intended) opinion of how my own body actually looked. Were others seeing me as big as the women I was seeing on the show?

My mom and others have assured me that I have never looked like "them." Like I said, mom was amazed at how much I weighed. It still surprises me, however, how people who weigh the same can look so different from one another. When I would see diet commercials I felt they "padded" the numbers to make the actors and actresses seem a lot heavier than they actually were. After all, how would someone who is 120 pounds actually know what a 220 pound person is supposed to look like?

Back to what I was saying: Phase 1 (the first two, and strictest, weeks of the diet) were a bit hard. I'm not going to lie. I remember that first Friday trying to figure out something Daisy and I could do that would not ruin my diet or tempt me away from it. It seemed like there was NOTHING we could do! I felt so boring.

Moreover, I was not experiencing the speedy weight loss that the book's testimonials promoted. I was expecting that, though. There is always fine print. Just like those diet pills at Wal-Mart and what have you, if you look closely at the ads you will see the tiny writing at the bottom: "actual results may vary."

Those two weeks were only difficult on the weekends, the time I spent out and about with friends. Otherwise I really did not have a problem with the diet. Phase 2 started and the diet became even easier to live out. And even though I was not turbo-shedding the weight it was more than I could have ever hoped for compared to my old days at the gym.

It has been a month and a half and, I just have to share, I have lost 14 pounds so far! I love trying on new clothes and seeing how they flatter my body even better than in the past. My legs (my favorite part of me) have not been this firm since high school or even junior high. Same goes for my arms! I love going to the gym so I can push myself further and do my weigh-ins. It is truly exciting, and I do not feel like I have sacrificed much at all with regards to the foods I enjoy. I thought I would miss rice terribly. We are Asian, I used to have rice at least once a day. Eating with the family and watching them eat rice...I thought that would be extremely hard. But I find that I have not missed it much at all. With the little tweaks here and there that the diet has taught me I can easily swap out the cravings I used to have (I can recognize those cravings now) with a suitable just-as-tasty alternative.

Now I am looking at the target I set for myself and it does not feel like it's going to be a marathon effort to achieve my goal. If things remain steady there is no reason why I should not reach my goal by the summer. But what is to stop me there? I am not feeling restricted at all by my diet and my workouts have become a part of my weekly life rather than a chore. If I aim big and work hard I do not see anything stopping me from losing even more weight than I "signed up" for. It is an incredible rush.

It feels even better with all the encouragement I am receiving from my family and friends. Every compliment they pay me -- attention-whore that I am -- only pushes me that much harder. And if ever anyone told me they weren't seeing any results in me I think that would only drive me even more! (Not that anyone has told me that...yet.) I get giddy when my pants are practically falling off -- though I admit I do get sad when they are clothes that I loved -- and it is so fun trying on sizes that I have not bothered trying on in years...and then finding that they look great on me once again. Win-win-win for me!

Packrat love

2008-02-24T22:34:00.002-07:00

- a play on Muskrat Love. Whatever; I'm a dork.
I decided recently to organize my purses. If you have known me for some time you ought to know I have a bazillion purses. I thought all women were like me. Apparently not, none of them have as many purses as me, for sure. Most of my friends only have maybe 5 or 10! It boggles my mind!

Re-organizing my purses is a massive endeavor consisting of clearing them all out of my handbag closet, emptying them out, and rearranging them in some sort of system that makes sense (at the time). Unfortunately, my handbag closet cannot hold all of my handbags so now my collection is split amongst my two closets. This would be why I forget I own such-and-such a bag for years on end until I unearth it once again during one of my "reorgs."

Emptying them out always takes the longest. I pore over every receipt as they spell out their own special page in my life of where I went, when, and what I bought. I peruse over little notes and reminders I left myself at the time. I flip through business cards of mr or ms so-and-so and wonder why I ever got their business cards in the first place.

Like the business card (actually, I found two! I guess he was really big on networking "through" me) of a guy I once knew who I don't really care to contact anymore...and yet I cannot seem to toss the card(s) in the garbage.

Then there is the business card of a barbecue planner/caterer. Why do I have this one??? Clearly I must have met him somewhere? Was he one of those random dates I had back in the day? Sooooo bizarre.

I came across my Rogers and Blockbuster membership cards. Does anyone rent movies anymore?

The best "treasure" I found: 6 unopened boxes of Reese's Pieces -- all in different purses. Yes, I love Reese's Pieces, but going through all my belongings it is fairly evident that I am satisfied with just buying them. No need to eat them! The things I learn about myself!

It's probably not a wise idea to eat them now.

Necesitamos mas amigos qui son salseros y salseras.

2008-02-18T23:52:00.004-07:00

Eeee, I hope my Spanish is still coherent.

This past weekend was the very first Calgary International Salsa Congress; a labor of love for our favorite dance studio and its instructors. T-Girl and I would have been remiss to skip on the event.

Friday night was the pre-congress party held in the ballroom at the Hyatt downtown. I have not gone dancing in months so seeing all the fantastic dancing had me quite intimidated at first. I knew I would be able to hold my own if only I could find a partner who could lead. Unfortunately, the one partner I ended up getting -- a friend of T-Girl's who must have felt bad for me standing solo -- could not keep the beat. I did my best to be gracious and follow his lead and ignore the music, but it just killed the moment for me. My fave partner who is also a TA at the studio was busy getting ready for his performance so no luck there. We'll call him Salsa Boy. When I get the chance to dance with him I feel like the most amazing salsera in the room because I know what I am doing and I am with someone who know what he is doing. It's enough to cause a gal to develop a little salsa crush, 'tis. Salsa Boy gave a fantastic show with his group. Unfortunately, with not much luck in the dance partner department and with Civic's stomach growling we soon bailed after the performances in search of food. It was just as well. I was starting to feel like the little wallflower in junior high.

Saturday night was one of the big shows being held at the Telus Convention Centre. More amazing dancing yet again! Sadly, T-Girl and I were even worse off for partners. More to the point I should say that I was worse off for partners. T-Girl is an incredibly sweet girl who seems to encourage guys from all walks to approach her. I, as you know, can be a veritable ice queen depending on whether the guy in question is even worth a minute of conversation. It was just as well that her partner this evening didn't try including me on the dance floor. He gave me the creeps.

Creepy and pansy guys aside, I could not help but wonder if T-Girl and I would ever break into the social circle that is the Calgary salsa scene. Every salsa event we attend has the same people there. They all seem to know one another really well and that helps them all look amazing on the floor since they know one another's cues and styles. What I would give to have friends like them with whom I could hone my skills, learn, grow, and burn up the night! But even though we recognize them it is often really intimidating to break the ice amongst their groups. However, it would be so fantastic to have a steady group of people to dance with. People we know and who love the latin scene as much as we do. I'm not looking for a romantic partner I just want a dance partner.

2008-02-13T20:16:00.004-07:00

Hot or not

The Hotness is terminally ill.

The Hotness being my favorite cell phone.

I jumped on the chance to own The Hotness as soon as she was released in Canada. With all the research I did in my cell phone forums and such it was clear to me that I was destined to own a Sony Ericsson Z520a. We have had a wonderful life together and she has travelled with me to many lands. On my recent trip to the Philippines I bought a companion phone -- a Sony Ericsson Z610i which I christened Bebot -- to take some of the workload off of The Hotness.

Don't get me wrong, Bebot is shiny, sleek, and sexy. I love whipping her out whenever I see lemming RAZR owners out on the street. But even with her hot exterior, her bells and whistles just cannot hold a candle to how The Hotness and I were a match made for the ages.

Never wanting to be without her for a minute I kept putting off sending her away for a small software glitch, a minor inconvenience, until my extended warranty was (so I thought) about to expire.

Turns out I still had a year on my warranty, no biggie. What hurts me is that my beloved techie boys whom I trusted to take care of my cell phones for years, have defiled my most favorite phone of all. I have no way of proving it but I swear they hurt my phone. They claim there is water damage in The Hotness, making her warranty void and her "glitches" irreparable. She works for now -- save for some static here and there -- but "corrosion spreads."

I feel so lost knowing my favorite gadget is dying a slow death. At some point before I am ready we will have to part ways. I feel betrayed by my "favorite" techie boys. If only I could make a wish to a cell phone fairy somewhere out there. There is NO WAY I would ever let The Hotness get wet. They corrupted her somehow while she was in their care. Now both of us are paying the price.

2008-02-03T12:43:00.000-07:00

All Good Boys Deserve Fudge. Good Boys Deserve Fudge Always

One thing definitely hasn't changed in my blogging style: I always want to start my posts with some kind of musical reference.

Another social network has basically taken over my life on the internet. I'm sure there are quite a few of you out there who can easily guess what I am talking about. It is just too convenient for a little snoopy voyeur like myself. It is like the Cliff's Notes of someone's life rather than having to click and read every single blog post. In a minute you can find out where your old high school friend is working now, what their academic achievements have been, whether or not they are seeing someone at the moment or if they have gone in a domestic way and did the whole married-with-2.5-kids thing. They are not kidding when they say this network is like an addiction. I find myself looking up people from my past, people who I don't really care much about, just to see who's doing what and how. We have all become subjects of our own personal gossip rag.

One friend recently "added" a girl we used to hang out with in high school. Naturally, I pounced on the chance to see what she has been up to (but heaven forbid I "add" this girl myself!) In seconds I can see that she has not changed much at all and in fact she is engaged. I'm not surprised; she was the type who was bent on finding that "right guy;" much like one would work on their career ambitions.

Note: dating compared to a job hunt/career search is a topic that has come up lately. More on that another time.

Finding out more about this girl and how much (little) has changed also made me realize how little I have changed in all these years.

My reaction to the pictures of her fiance? "She's getting what she deserves."

That's not me being impressed or proud of this girl, folks. That's me being all catty...claws out...rawr.

I know...I know...I know that there is some unspoken rule about couples in general and how they are usually par with one another in appearance. You are not going to find Jennifer Aniston with Carrot Top, for instance. But there are always the exceptions. Those which one friend used to explain as guys/girls who shoot for the moon because they do not have anything to lose...and that is when you see Angelina Jolie types strolling and canoodling with Gilbert Gottfried types.

I am not saying that the Gilbert Gottfrieds of the world do not deserve Angelina Jolies. But somewhere in there, I swear...I swear to you there must be at least a small element of self-esteem issues in the mix.

Another friend of mine has been seeing a Gilbert Gottfried (I'm going to shorten this up to GGs from now). She has been seeing GG for a loooong time. I can't wrap my head around it. Everything about this guy irritates me from the moment he opens his mouth and I have to listen to his annoying voice. Her current credo: "nice stands for something."

My response to that? NICE IS THE MINIMUM! Of course a significant other would have to be "nice." Why would one date a jerk? Even if he or she is hot, noone puts up with them if they are a jerk. At least they shouldn't.

By the way, though this should be inherent knowledge, when trying to set up friends on a blind date -- or maybe you yourself are putting together a (eek) personal ad -- NEVER use the word "nice" to describe them/yourself. As I've said, "nice" is the minimum. If you ask me, "nice" always comes with a "but." A read-between-the-lines "but." ("You'll love him! He is such a nice guy!" Translation: Have some compassion and give this runt of the litter a chance! So what if he is cross-eyed.) Nice is such a generic word. A spring day is nice, getting a little extra whip cream on your coffee is nice. If you want to "sell" someone on a potential love interest tell them he or she is sweet, thoughtful, considerate... There are so many words out there that are leagues better than nice.

Ok, as I was saying, nice is the minimum. If you ask her what else she likes about this guy she ends up stumped for a response. I am concerned she has settled (oh dread!) for the minimum.

And this, my friends, is where my whole title about deserving things comes into play.

Of course GG could not be happier. He won! He gets my friend. She's great, stylish, savvy, all the things that he isn't. He scored big. You can't convince me, could never convince me, that he deserves a girl as wonderful as my pal.

But what saddens me is her side of the story. Is this all she thinks she is worth? Don't get me wrong; I don't want her to end up with some good-looking guy who likes to throw her around a la Ike Turner. Couldn't she have more patience and wait for a wonderful guy? One whom she cannot stop raving about because she actually KNOWS what she likes and loves about him? I tell you, this future guy will be more than "nice" in her description.

Please don't misunderstand me, I do not want you to think that this is some shallow rant all about appearances. This is just the best way I can explain things at the moment.

Those who know the type of guy I like physically would have been surprised by the guy I chose, or would have chosen. Sadly, he did not choose me. Truth be told for once (or one of the few times I guess I should say) I have been hurt by a guy whom I suppose decided he deserved someone better than me. I'm not dogging myself. Perhaps I should have worded that last sentence as "better for him."

But if anyone asked me what I saw in him I would have loads to say. Loads! He was uber bright, well-read, incredibly worldly when it came to everything around him, adorably thoughtful... god, I could go on but it would just make me feel even more sad thinking about it all again.

Even with the way he looks now, which was not the way he looked when I first met him, I would still think he is "totally boss." :P I'm a little sad that all his hard work has fallen by the wayside but if he is happy in his state then that's all one could ask for. Heaven knows he had more discipline than me in that respect and I'VE always been happy with my state of appearance. Besides, I can't express my concern for his health at this point...there is that fear that he would misinterpret my comments as a catty way of trying to hurt him for leaving me behind.

In the end, though, I'm certain I will get what I deserve. And he will be fantastically more than nice.

2008-01-13T22:41:00.001-07:00

Old dog...

If I looked back on the date of my very first post I would realize that I have owned this little anthology of my life's tidbits for almost 5 1/2 years now. I would also realize that it is such a shame that I have neglected it for so long.

I missed my 20,000th visitor even...I used to be so keen on watching my site traffic.

It is so nifty that a blogger whom I used to read has written one of the best movies I have seen in the past few years.

Heh, I also realized that I still write my blog posts with all the little code of yesteryear even though Blogger has simplified things to the point where all my little codes can all be accomplished by a click of the mouse on the appropriate button. I'm so behind on the times.

"Now Blogger saves your drafts automatically!" That would have saved me so much grief back in the day.

2007-11-18T20:45:00.000-07:00

sigh

Ok, scratch that. I'm not doing the whole "blog reunion" thing. Well...I'll reunite with my blog...but without all the hype I was building up in my little imagination. I've made so many promises on this blog and have made little effort to keep any of them.

I do appreciate those who continue to blog, as sporadic as some do. Most of them have better reasons for being unavailable to write compared to me but they still take the time to write. A fave blogger is now the proud papa of 2?! Wow, I've been seriously out of the loop!

You would think that after all this time I would have volumes of stuff to write. So bizarre how I feel at a loss for words. It's like when you look forward to seeing a friend after a long week but then once you do get together you sort of forget everything you were going to share with him or her. Awkward.

2007-08-01T23:25:00.000-06:00

Reunion

Last month was our high school reunion. It was so nice to see so many people from way back when. I thought I had grown a lot since then, but thrown back into the mix I found I was more of the same: shy and reserved as always, and taking a (long) while to warm up. Thankfully, others were also the way they had always been. If not for them coming up to me and starting up some conversation I don't think I would have reunited with as many people as I did.

When you say the words "10-year reunion" it feels like so much time has passed, or should have passed. I know 10 years ago I imagined that I would be in a much different place than I am now, and it felt like I had all the time in the world to get there. A common sentiment I heard from a lot of people is that they felt that nothing drastic has changed in 10 years. A lot of us spent most of those years in college, then finding jobs, some of us got married and had kids. But for the majority of those I spoke with it felt like their "adult" lives were just getting started. So when that predictable question of "what's new?" eventually made its way into the conversation, most felt like blanketing the whole time period with "not much." However, once the dialogue really started to flow it was pretty clear that we have all matured quite a bit in the past decade.

It was also interesting to see that most groups gravitated towards one another just like in high school. Refreshingly, though, a lot of the old hang-ups and labels had been tossed long ago and everyone was interacting freely even if they never "hung out" together back then.

I can be a terrible conversationalist when I feel put on the spot (not that it would have been wise to prepare/rehearse a few responses before the reunion) so I did not really put much thought into my responses to peoples questions while I was at the reunion, but I certainly had a lot to "say" after the fact as I laid in bed replaying the evening in my mind! Which gave me a great idea...

I am going to reunite with my blog! Where else do I have a captive audience but here? And, as always, I can be as verbose as I wish (I bet noone would have guessed me to be the yappy type back in high school!) and it will give me some good solid quality writing time with my blog. As a bonus, any new readers I may have (I have noticed some new visitors) can catch up on my "history" in one fell swoop.

So here goes...

2007-06-23T14:47:00.001-06:00

She speaks!

Hm, yeah. I suppose I am long overdue for a post on my beloved blog. *sheepish*

My excuse is pure laziness. Quite simple. As some of you may know, another online community has all but consumed my life when I am not out and about...which makes my poor little blog a distant item on my list of priorities. There are days when I feel I'm ready to touch base and blog but then I sign on to that other site and well...

Anyway, I'm here right now. Heaven knows I need some discipline in my life. :P

I'll try to get you up to speed. I spent an emotionally charged two weeks "back home" in the Philippines in April and turned my back on my darling Calgary Flames as they started their playoff run. Sad to say, they lost, and I came home to a dejected Big Boi posse and no more hockey games for the season.

However, I would not have traded those two weeks for anything. It is so easy to "forget" the family you have so far away...the lack of contact goes without question. And the cost...having been bit by the travel bug I felt I could not justify the cost of a ticket to the Philippines when that same amount of money could get me to another undiscovered destination. But I did the right thing. As I collected all my luggage and psyched myself up for the impending reunion just outside those doors various memories of past visits started playing through my head like a montage. It was like I was not even really there yet, it was all just a tease, a dream. A dream that was prolonged by the fact that Ninoy Aquino International Airport is such a gong show full of reunited relatives that I could not find my family. It had been 15 years. Would they even recognize me now?

As soon as I found my uncle and my cousins I could not contain myself anymore. Yes, I'm a crybaby. Apparently it runs in our family, so I am not ashamed of it at all.

Wow, our family has grown so much since I visited last. So many second cousins, so many new faces to remember. Halfway through my trip, although the tearful reunions were petering out, I started a whole other series of waterworks as I went to bed every night. The trip felt so short, I was just starting to get to know everyone once again, how could I possibly say "goodbye" so soon?

I am very grateful that I went, and I promise myself and all my loved ones that I will return more often now. Especially, as morbid as this sounds, while all my loved ones are still around. There is no other holiday that can compare to this, nothing more rejuvenating, nothing more surreal than the love and joy that comes with spending time "back home."

2007-04-12T00:49:00.000-06:00

GO FLAMES GO!

See you all in Round 2. I leave our boys in your capable hands. I've got a plane to catch. :)

2007-03-13T22:26:00.000-06:00

Whodathunkit?

The Big Flames Fanatics (AKA my siblings and our friends) got together to cheer our boys on against Tampa Bay. In fine form, we had our horns, our thunder sticks, and thanks to Daisy's dad we had COWBELLS!

You can never have enough cowbell.

It was also a marvelous day because it was our first day of temperatures in the high teens this year. (Weather which was quashed today by a ridiculous amount of snow....which then melted almost completely...but hey, that's Calgary for you!) In my excitement I spent the evening in capris and sans jacket. Thank goodness I never had to regret my clothing choices!

So there we were, picture it, 14 of our bestest buds and blood cheering on our beloved hometown boys. There were some scary moments...stupid referees were driving us insane! But in the end we LOST! LOST! The Flames have never lost whenever we have attended a game. Never! It never even dawned me that they could possibly lose.

And they lost. And we all sat there, numb, for a good little while as the 'dome emptied out.

But the Flames squared their shoulders and looked onward to the next game. So must we do the same. As we filed out many "good times" pics were taken amongst the group. Lots of crazy ones, but Weird Kid's like that.

However, the craziest one of the group...you will never believe this...ended up being our very own baby sis! Weird Kid and most of his friends were far far ahead of most of us. My friends for the most part were trailing behind us. Big Boi J and I were discussing the finer details of changing his license plate to read "sxytyme" when my darling little sister bolted ahead, turned and faced a non-Flames couple, stuck her horn between her legs, and razzed them!

Big Boi J and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. Clearly, baby sis has been hanging with bad influences! Too bad the bad influences are us! :)

2007-03-11T22:27:00.000-06:00

Boogie oogie oogie till I just can't boogie no more

My dance instructors have started up a new salsa night in the city. We were lucky enough to come out and support their grand opening. As an added bonus, the venue was a recently renovated establishment I have wanted to check out for a couple of months.

All I can say is that I hope they can keep this up. This evening was better than anything I have seen in Calgary thus far. No scuzzy guys, no sticky floors, everyone dressed like the sexy people they are. Better yet, everyone was there to dance, much like how SoHo started out, but since then SoHo has fallen down a couple of notches.

The dancing was AMAZING! It was inspiring and incredible to watch. A lot of our fellow classmates were there, as were many of the students in levels ahead of us. If I could progress to their levels I'd be ecstatic. I would love to go every week, particularly since our classes will be ending again for the semester soon, and it will probably be very easy to do once the summer hits, but I'll go as much as I can until then. I am so hooked. I have never really been one to try hard to fit in with a particular crowd, but if I could get to know more of the regular dancers at my school it would be amazing to get to try dancing with them every once in a while.

2007-03-05T21:05:00.000-07:00

Out of control

Last week was my annual checkup at the Tom Baker Cancer Centre. Or rather, I guess I should specify that it was my fifth annual checkup. My five year anniversary, my supposed start date to buckle down, live my life, and move on as if I am just any other healthy girl on this planet.

I didn't get to see my normal oncologist, which I thought was weird. Once a year and he can't even see me? Instead I got a guy in residence and the doctor he's been shadowing (is that right? I don't know how it really goes). I realize that every budding doctor has to start somewhere, but why with me? He doesn't know my history, other than what's written on my charts. Making the best of it he told me what my results were telling him, and I told him what had been bothering me as of late. Chest x-ray came out clear, MRI was a-ok. But THEN they decided to see me again next year. I don't know about them, but I thought this was my final checkup. After thinking about it, I didn't really fight it. One morning a year to make sure I'm cancer-free is well worth the time. I'd see them once a year for the rest of my life if it meant keeping me healthy. Mind you, seeing them once a year also means I never get to fully ignore the big C word...but let's face it, I don't want to bury my head in the sand and get sick once again.

Unfortunately, and I remember this clearly 'cuz of the events happening at the time, on the day of the Halloween Club Crawl last year (October 28) my right eye would not open as wide as my left eye. It looked like I was in permanent wink-mode. I chalked it up to my mascara or the like irritating my eye, although it was taking forever to clear out...or maybe it was the start of an infection? Unfortunately, I did not have any time to get it checked out before my trip to the Dominican. Hope of all hopes: it would clear up and deal itself out of my system. Well, halfway through my week it was pretty clear things weren't getting much better. My eye would always open wider as the day progressed but first thing in the morning it was still in perma-wink. I texted my brother to ask my mom to set up an appointment with my GP for when I got back home...it wasn't such a dire emergency that I wanted to waste my time in paradise in a foreign doctor's clinic. (But I did let my imagination run a little wild. Did I suffer from a tiny stroke and that's why that eye was acting up? Were my muscles and nerves breaking down due to my radiation therapy from the past? What was going on??)

My mom one-upped me and instead of my GP she set up an appointment with my opthalmologist. I have not seen him in years since he decided that they would not do "normal eye exams" any longer. He took a look at it and decided that it was an infection that was already on its way out (of course my eye was opening somewhat better than most days that day).

Really, I thought he was right, my eye didn't seem to be so closed in the mornings any longer and it bounced back a lot quicker during the day. It still wasn't 100%, but it would get there.

Fast forward to my appointment at the Tom Baker. My eye still wasn't perfect so I thought I'd bounce my little theory about my muscles/nerves getting all tired on my right side and that's why it would not open as wide as my left eye. Mr Resident did a few rudimentary tests; my eye, and the muscles controlling its movement, were fine in his opinion. However, he and his doctor buddy figured that my eyelid was definitely puffier than my "healthy" one and that I should go see my opthalmologist again to sort out the puffy eyelid (infection?) and Mr Resident saw the beginnings of a cataract going on. Maybe the cataract was a side effect from the radiation.

Cataract? Was that not an issue for old people? No, I shouldn't be so age-ist.

However, my mom felt the same way. "But you're so young still!"

Fine, so I was developing a cataract. I've seen my grandma and others in our family circle deal with them, I knew the procedure. At least this issue was easily remedied and after that I'd be good as new.

Fast forward a few days more to today. I went back to my opthalmologist to have him look it over. It's NOT a cataract. (Or so he says. Mom is skeptical and wants me to get a second opinion.) My corneal scarring from my childhood was getting denser, and that was why my vision was getting worse. But to be honest, I have become so dependent on my left eye, I did not even realize my right eye's vision had been getting so bad!

Oh, and my eye not opening as much? I guess the brain works to "protect" the eye, and it is keeping my right eye more closed so that less light enters in since its vision is more light-sensitive right now.

"See me in six months." No breakdown as to how we were going to deal with this problem. Nothing.

To be honest, I would have been a lot happier with a cataract. At least I know how that can be fixed. I was really hoping to get a car real soon. If my eyesight is getting worse, how can I confidently get around in my cute car?

On a less trivial note, I'm again feeling sort of helpless. I'm a girl of science. Have cancer? Nuke it with some radiation = all better. Have a cataract? Fix it with a little bit of surgery...again, all better. But when you don't give me a clear solution to my issues I feel pretty lost. Not only that, but you would think that the one person I should be able to rely on in this world is myself. How can I do that if my own body is working against me?

I am so thankful that I still have such a close and loving family. Not to mention my friends, though I try to burden them even less than my family. It's not very often that I'll admit that I am frustrated.

2007-02-25T14:32:00.000-07:00

Mas caliente que tu

"Let's go!"

And with that we left our friends with the ever-entertaining French pirate and headed back to our rooms to freshen up. What a group! Some sassy cougars (C and S), a darling small-town wide-eyed girl (J), a good girl (yours truly...or that's how I pictured myself), and a friendly glamazon (L).

We were staying at the Occidental Grand Flamenco in Puerto Plata, right in the Playa Dorada complex. Just down the street was Mangu at the old Jack Tar village. The night was young and Mangu was just opening (11pm) and it would not be Puerto Plata if we did not check this place out. The only bar that let locals mix with the tourists within the complex. Enough of the French pirates and the other Europeans. Bring on the Dominicans!

Personally, I was uber excited. I was already on a music high ever since we landed, merengue and bachata all around me! Seeing the locals living in the music was an incredible experience. Now I would get to see them show how merengue and bachata are truly danced.

The cougars came out in crazy heels and as a result we had to take a 2 minute taxi ride down to the club. Thanks to our resort bracelets we got in without any cover, but it made me wonder how much they normally charge the locals. But before we stepped in:

"Be easy on these guys, girls. They fall for outsiders easily. They'll promise you the world just to keep you" a friend warned. Inside I groaned and snickered all at the same time. I can't stand it when people get all patronizing and lecture me on things I already know, but I am usually good at biting my lip. And "fall for outsiders?" As if she did not actually mean that they love sleeping with outsiders. Was she speaking from experience? It sure sounded like it. But, you know, open mind open mind open mind. Let's run with the generalization that Latinos are hugely family-oriented and with that they would never disrespect women. Benefit of the doubt.

So just past the security bouncers was a large open area with a DJ behind his turntables at the other end. It was dead, to boot. This was what we came for? Our own resort disco was more jumping than this!

But I was so wrong. The cougars (could you tell they had been here before?) gathered us up and led us through the doors on the side. Now this was a club. Great lights, multiple bars, circular dance floor, not a whole lot of booths but what are you going to do at a club but dance, right? Oh what? Is that a cage over in the corner? We had to step aside as a midget man in a beret and kilt walked past carrying a box of cerveza over his shoulder. I know I should say "vertically-challenged" but I'm just too lazy to type all that out.

As we lined up to order drinks (there was just something that made me bitter about paying for drinks after getting spoiled at an all-inclusive only a few days into the week)a mega-tall woman walked by. The glamazon and I exchanged looks.

"They've got women taller than me here!" and I nodded in agreement. But halfway through my nod we realized the amazon lady was a dude! A dragazon, if you will!

Here I was, in this tiny Caribbean country, and I was seeing things that I have never seen in Calgary: city of a million-plus.

And from then on all week we would say "it ain't a party without a drag queen and a midget."

Later, the midget dressed down to jeans and no shirt and the dragazon entertained, dancing in the cage. Craziness.

Oh, the dancing! I just watched in awe. This was like SoHo multiplied by 5,000 times the allure. All of a sudden S was grabbing my hand and leading me over to one of the local guys. It was like her mission to get everyone out on the dance floor. I didn't resist. I wanted to dance. Merengue was easier than salsa and I felt pretty confident. So away we went and all was good.

Or so I thought. Being trained in something and being born with it are two totally different things, obviously, and I found myself flustered...thinking much too hard about following his lead. Alright, fine, I was having a bit of difficulty getting into the groove of things but then...

"I'm sorry. You can't merengue."

Did I hear him right? So much for having patience! I couldn't believe it. I have danced with my fair share of rhythmically-challenged people and worse but I have NEVER told them they suck to their face. Rarity of rarities, I took the higher road and thanked him for the dance, walking off the dance floor with a pinched ego. Pinched, not bruised.

Luckily for me, I was not a wallflower for very long. A tall, dark guy with the body of 50 Cent (but without the "duh!" face) came over to dance with me. Transition in the evening, the merengue music moved onto RnB and hiphop. Alright, I have not been "trained" in dancing to RnB and hiphop but I highly doubt anyone would ever tell me that I can't dance it. "Only You" by 112 came on and, though it's still somewhat uptempo, he held me close and serenaded me. But, um, serenading and grinding seem kind of incongruent.

Where do I go? What must I do 'cuz I can't live without your love? Thinking of you makes me feel like you are the only one for me

His name was Ariel (Like the little mermaid, I thought) and he worked in Internet Services at the Marien Coral. Coincidentally, I had just stopped by the Marien Coral that day. To prove this (did I look skeptical?) he showed me his staff ID. I don't know what it is with guys always showing me some form of ID. It reminds me of that time in Toronto when John opened his wallet and showed me his AHC card to back the fact that he used to live in Alberta.

Then another song came on, and frankly I can't remember what the other songs were after Only You. He started to bump with me and normally I think that dance is kind of immature. Whenever I've been at the clubs here in Calgary and some drunken fool starts bumping me I get all disgusted. Besides, who knows why they think it's making them look sexy? It certainly doesn't do anything for me. But this time...there was a *cough* "rock hard penis" as J was prone to repeating numerous times throughout the evening. Yes, my 50 Cent was not the only guy dancing with a "rock hard penis," apparently.

But yes, a "rock hard penis" (I will keep typing that out to sort of reenact how J sounded the whole evening.) makes the stupid bump dance move pretty, er, interesting. Or maybe Ariel and I were just the right height for things 'cuz it had me feeling pretty good. *blush*

Ok, off the dancefloor I went. I needed a breather. Along came J with her "rock hard penis" experience. FYI: J is married to a farmer much akin to a Hutterite colony. Married should mean that she knows all about "rock hard penis(es)" but I guess she's not used to other men's "rock hard penis(es)" which would make sense.

I lost Ariel somehow, alas. Along came another guy, not very built and not as tall. His name was Antonio and he worked for the Pizza Hut at the Playa Dorada Complex. Again, he showed me his staff ID. It must be a common thing to do over there. He, too, had a "rock hard penis" though it wasn't as impressive(?) No, I can't think of the right word right now. Anyway, here I was, thinking that I was being a pretty good girl. It wasn't my fault these guys were in a perpetually aroused state ("rock hard penis," for good measure). J just proved it wasn't just me, not that I am that vain to think such a thing, so me dancing with these guys is just some good innocent holiday fun.

Then Antonio kissed me, and he's not even that good of a kisser! In fact, he's kind of a sloppy kisser. But the little devil on my shoulder got together with the little angel on my other shoulder and both said "screw it, you're on a trip!" So, I kissed back. Just like the bump move here in Calgary, it wasn't doing much for me. Truth be told dancing with Ariel did more for me than kissing with Antonio. If I had been a good girl I wouldn't have just went along with it, but I did.

We danced/kissed for a little longer when he took my hand and led me across the dance floor. In the back of my mind I had an idea of what he was up to but I let him have the benefit of the doubt. We were also headed towards the bar where the original bartender (the lady who served us our drinks) had been replaced by a hot HOT guy in a wifebeater that my friends had been raving about. It was a good opportunity to check out what the fuss was all about. I had to agree. That bartender guy looked like Hotness-a-la-mode. Unfortunately, we walked past the bar...which meant he wasn't looking to buy me a drink and my initial instincts were right. *sigh* I stopped in my tracks, let go of his hand, and started walking back to where we had been.

What's wrong?
I'm staying with my friends.
How come?
I'm not leaving the club.
Alright

And with that he took my hand again and led me through the crowd around the dance floor (the long way) back to my friends. Once we got back L saw Antonio latched onto me and asked "ready to go?" Very much so!

I told him I was leaving, but either he didn't hear me or he pretended that he didn't as his arms wrapped me up from behind and he started kissing my neck.

You want to go and dance again?
No, I told you my friends are ready to go.

But just as I said that J got pulled onto the dance floor again by another "rock hard penis." Great woman, but she seemed to be having the best time she's ever had in ages so she wasn't fighting to leave the club at any point soon. She would never cheat on her husband, though, so we weren't all too concerned. But what about me?!

Your friend is dancing now. You can dance a little more.
No,no, we're going really soon.
Leah, I like you. Ok? (There it was!!! What my friend had warned me all about! Was this guy for real? No no no no no...it must still be all about getting me into bed.)
Ok
Will you come see me tomorrow? I will be at work. (Pizza Hut.)
I don't know. We've got some plans for tomorrow already.
Please come and see me. (*sigh* It doesn't matter where I am in the world. The pansies still manage to find me.)
I'm not promising anything. Maybe, (not really) but don't wait for me.

L managed to wrangle J from her dance partner and S was ready to go (no luck for her) while C had managed to find 2 young Germans from our resort to accompany us back.

We all got ready to pile into a taxi-van when S insisted that this time we would walk. Was she nuts? She gave our taxi away to another group and started walking. C dragged at the end of our line and kicked off her heels for better stability in the darkness and her alcohol-influenced state. We must have been a sight. The 10-minute walk took, I'm sure, a good 20 minutes or more. All the while, S kept gushing about me and Antonio, though I sensed a bit of catty jealousy on her part. (Later that week, she actually asked us "what does it take for a girl to get laid around here?" So if there was any doubt as to why she was always looking for an opportunity to hit the bars or meet the locals, the disillusionment was swiftly lifted.)

"Oooooh, did that guy ever like you! He was on you like white on rice. *chuckling to herself about her little analogy* White on rice, don't you get it?"

"White on rice" soon became the new "rock hard penis." The next morning at breakfast S was still telling the rest of our group about how Antonio was on me like "white on rice."

It looks like Antonio bet on the wrong girl. If he had wanted to have some fun that night he should have chosen S. Not to speak ill of S's virtue, but at least we knew what she was after.

Other than that, Mangu was fantastic. I would highly recommend it to anyone going to the Dominican Republic in the next little while.

2007-02-21T21:12:00.000-07:00

You can't have it your way here!

So somehow I have lucked out and been to Falafel King twice AND I had my favorite calamari caesar at the gas station in the past couple of weeks. I do love me some Mediterranean cuisine.

We lucked out on our first trip to Falafel King as they were about to close in 15 minutes. I was not all that hungry, but I had not had a falafel in months and everyone knows I am horrible at denying myself something I want. So there you had it.

The prices at the gas station have gone up a dollar across the board. Who cares? I'll gladly pay it for the yummy yummy food. (I would tell you the name of the place, but it is a hidden city gem after all. If you haven't heard about it by now through newspaper articles and such through the years then it sucks to be you! Haha. Besides, we can't have you all rushing over and ruining a great thing. I hate it when that happens.) So good! And yes, my calamari was not in little heart shapes but I couldn't have asked for a more satisfying Valentine's Day meal.

Our second trip to Falafel King and I was better behaved. All I wanted was something little to nibble on. So I went for an order of baba ghanouj (oh baba, how I adore thee!) and decided to finally ask what a kibbie ball was. They didn't bother answering me 'cuz apparently they were already sold out of kibbie balls for the evening. Well alright then. I decided to ask for some baklava to end off my baba snack. No baklava, either! Guy says "I'm sorry my dear. Today has been crazy!" No kidding! You see what I mean about too many people ruining a great thing? I can't even get my own goodies to eat. So I asked for a mango juice instead. Mmmmm. I had never had one before but it was just as good as my mango bubble tea at Dessert House. Minus the pearls, of course.

While I'm on the subject of Mediterranean goodness: I am quite happy that the city has decided to exclude the shisha bars from the no-smoking bylaw. I have not gone to Cafe Mediterranean or any of the other local shisha bars in years, but I never considered shisha smoke to be as intrusive as cigarette smoke. I was a tad melancholy when I realized I may never get to try other shisha flavours again due to the bylaw, so the exemption was wonderful news. I think the city would miss out on a great cultural experience (should they opt to try it) if shisha smoke had been banned.

2007-02-20T17:25:00.000-07:00

"Talk at you later"

No, folks, I do not actually talk like that. No need to correct me.

On Valentine's Day a handful of singletons and I went to -- drumroll please -- a singles event.

Yes, I know, great googly moogly, what was I thinking!

It was a party put together by one of my favorite clubs. Though their advertising was a little vague I had jumped to conclusions and assumed that it was one of those nifty fetes were they loan you Blackberries to text message potential lurve interests. Not so! Instead, they gave us stickers with a number to slap onto our bods somehow, somewhere. And during the night you could come to the booth and leave handwritten messages for those you were interested in.

Yeah, I never bothered seeing if anyone had left me a message. Nor did I leave any messages for others.

We were a varied crew. Some were excited about the potential for the evening, some were excited about the assumed Blackberry-ness of it all (oh, the trouble one could get into sending strangers bizarre messages!), while others were mortified to be dragged to a "singles event." Needless to say, the latter seemed quite relieved when nothing became of the evening.

"Disappointment" sums it up nicely. No Blackberries. Everyone else was in groups just like mine. I couldn't even make the best of the evening and dance. Being that it was a "school night" we left before midnight seeing as the night was completely bunk. We toughed it out for more than 2 hours and they had not even opened up the dance floor by the time we left. Ugh.