May 18, 2004 - May 30, 2010

I half heartedly started this blog 6 years ago on May 15th. Three days later Oliver was born and in July he officially became a part of our family. If it wasn't for the request for Oliver updates this little corner of the internets would have been unceremoniously abandoned without a second thought.

Anyways, Oliver died this morning at 11:45. The last three days have been the most horrifying I have ever gone through. My heart is broken and I'm shattered, but at least he's not suffering anymore. April 28th, 2009 is when he first took seriously ill, it's been a long 13 months for all of us. He was a fighter who defied death so many times.

I'm still processing everything that happened and I'll definitely be doing a more thought out post later on. He was a fantastic little creature and you guys need to know how brave and wonderful he was even to the last moment.

Hungry, hungry hippo

I'm at the Bangkok airport waiting for my flight to Colombo. I've got about 2 hours to go & give or take 100 baht to burn on my 'happy' phonecard. Today started off pretty chill but got all shitastic pretty fast. The plan was to take care of some last minute shopping, deal with the post office, have a late lunch & then bugger off. This was too simple to be executed properly.

I found some super, super cute postcards at the post office & couldn't resist picking some up. So for those of you who gave me your addresses I blame you for delaying me horribly. I had no intentions of spending my morning writing, but 13 postcards later...

And guys you've got to admit my postcard writing skills are pretty badass, I don't skimp & make use of all available space. Honestly I hope you will just lie to me & tell me that you keep all of them lovingly in a box because I'd be crushed if you tossed them. For reals. Plus, you never know, they could be worth something someday!

I normally don't eat breakfast, the picture above is what I subsisted on when we were in ko samed. (Yes, that is the view from the balcony, crazy eh?) Today I had some Thai pastries while I wrote away. Which is a good thing because I kept the leftovers in my bag & just finished inhaling them now. Man I'm starved.

After the postcard writing I grabbed a few last minute things for the ladies in my life, had a lovely lunch & then headed back to the guesthouse with ample time for a shower etc. Of course the minute I step outside it starts to pour and I can't find an empty taxi, the traffic is horrendous & I begin to panic.

My uncle's going to be mortified when he gets me at the airport. I had just enough time to get back to the guesthouse, pay my bill, throw my suitcases in & then head to the airport. I'm still wearing the crap I was in this morning. Linen shorts, a tshirt & flip flops. I am certain to freeze to death on the plane yo, also because of the rain my hair has a certain je ne sais quois about it. Not the good kind.

You know how I always 'misplace' shit at the worst times? I thought I lost the keys to my luggage, then I thought my passport was gone along with my watch and iphone. Then I feel like throwing up. This is what sucks about traveling alone & being so absent minded. There's no one around to tell me to calm the shit down.

Over Indulged.

Growing up, Thathi very rarely ever said no to me. If I wanted something I would get it under the pretext of it being an "early birthday present" or one of those "you can pay me back later" type of deals. This would irritate Ammi to no end and Aiya was never afforded such preferential treatment. I like to think that I'm none the worse, my sense of entitlement only extends so far and in general most would agree that I am a grateful person? Who knows really.

Oliver totally benefits from Thathi's generosity and I think he is way more spoiled than I am because both Ammi and Thathi indulge the crap out of him. Below is a photograph I took earlier on this evening of him lounging in the midst of 7 of his 8 beds. And yes, you read that correctly. EIGHT BEDS.



Here is a clockwise break down starting from 7 o'clock.

The plaid one with the monkey in it sits in the living room in front of the window. He sleeps there in the afternoon sun.

Navajo print? Hideous I know, but it's the latest acquisition and has usurped the original favourite bed in my parents room for the night sleep.

That little sofa! It is the one that makes me go squee. That was his first Christmas present and it's a bit worse for wear these days, there's barely any padding in it so it's got another bed in it to soften things up a bit. This used to be his go to bed, it recently got booted from my parents' room into mine.

The barefoot pillowcase is covering the kitchen floor cushion. He perches on there while we're eating.

Winnie the Pooh's chillaxing on the bed that is permanently fixed in the study.

And finally, the derelict plaid cushion. His very first bed which gets afforded no respect these days. Anyone who's been over will verify this for you, but he literally just carries that around in his mouth from room to room.

Not pictured: the other barefoot floor cushion, it's his "outdoor" pillow and has been put away in storage until the warmer weather is back.

So in light of all these indulgences and what's been going on with the Toronto Humane Society we went by the Vet's office today to drop off some dog cookies for the animal shelter food drive that they're doing for Christmas. The deal was, bring in some dog food and have your pet's picture taken with Santa. Of course this would not do for us because our lovely pet would most likely shit on Santa out of excitement, urinate with no abandon or headbutt him. Oh, and natch, those poor needy shelter animals didn't get gourmet carob, yogurt, carrot and peanut cookies. Those plebes got Milk Bones.


If you only knew how many people have seen these in the cookie jar, stuck their hands in and tried to eat them thinking they were of the human variety. Aren't they cute though?

Every day in the morning I tell myself that I'm not going to read the latest on what's going on with the whole Humane Society debacle, but I do and my stomach churns. Oliver has been getting a lot of extra love these days as a result which I suppose isn't necessarily a bad thing? Anyways, if you get the chance I would recommend taking a stroll through here: http://www.thestar.com/topic/TorontoHumaneSociety


I daily resist the urge to take a bite out of this little face. Daily.

Tagged.

So Vindicated hit me with a tag for that whole "letter to your 16 year old self thing" and I believe it's been years since I was last compelled to take part in one of these memes. How dare you! Thinking back to 16 makes me so depressed because I can barely remember that far back. I've decided to be sporting (despite not knowing the rules) so here goes.

You know that feeling that you get? When you look back at your 13 year old-self? And want to slap her silly? That does not fade. You will constantly want to go back in time and roundhouse kick some sense into your past self. Something tells me that we will always feel like this no matter.

Where should I start?

16 is a monumental year for you. First off, that brain aneurysm that Ammi will supposedly die of? No fear, that wasn't an aneurysm and she's actually still alive. You will however carry the emotional trauma of that and the fall out from her illness around for a long time. Actually both you and Aiya do, and in typical fashion deal with it in completely opposite ways. You both survive. Next year will sort of suck though, not going to lie. You decide that you're going to completely rebel against everything and become a serious pain in the ass. Like for real. You break your parents' heart by turning against religion, God and the institutionalised church, but they both survive. Despite the turmoil so do you. Your relationship with them drastically changes, but that's to be expected.

You feel stifled. Believe me. This feeling NEVER GOES AWAY. You will always feel suffocated you also believe that life will change once you get out of your tiny shit school and meet some new people. Fact: Life still sucks and all those friends you labeled as being "circumstantial," (just your friends because there are no other options) actually turn out to be the best friends you will ever have in life. You stay close to them through your undergraduate degrees, med school, law school, teachers college. You name it. You will be a bridesmaid and hate every moment of it, but you suck it up and do it. Then they start having babies, (which yes, even now freaks you out) and you have no idea what to do with these small creatures, but as they start getting older and you see flashes of their parents in their faces you realise that your past nomadic life may well be in the past because you're actually around to see this shit happen.

Yeah, you know that whole traveling thing? It dogs you man, all your life and you totally embrace it. You travel, a lot (your goal of living and working in two countries on every continent is right on track). And you experience all sorts of fantastic things. That drive to live in another country out of a suitcase sort of wanes eventually, but never dies! You start to realise how much you're missing at home. With that said, the time you spent working at an NGO in Sri Lanka? Good on you. Sometimes you'll wonder wtf you're doing, but stick with it. If anything it gives you a chance to know your family and grandparents in Colombo on a level that would never have been possible before. Looking back you'll be happy about this because your grandfather does not live forever, you won't be full of regrets like aiya.

Speaking of Sri Lanka, you are blown away by the awesome people you meet while you're there (none of whom you work with or are related to hah). One of them will even move to Canada and ingrain himself in your life, the same way those friends from high school do. He becomes a common fixture at the Christmas dinner table, the guest bedroom and even gets exposed to Aiya's girlfriends too.

You become easier on the people around you and become much more accepting. This is a good thing because your social sphere also expands and your friends become an eclectic mix of strangeness. You will never attempt to gather them all in one place for this reason.

The best example of this is the monumental nerd that flies into your peripheral this year. You will ignore him. For years. And years. He will tutor your baby cousin in calculus and you won't know he exists until one Thanksgiving you're forced to roast 38 turkeys and have no other option than to speak to him. Go with it. He will irritate you, you will want to kill him, but give him a chance because he turns out to be nothing at all like you expected. He reads Wuthering Heights voluntarily and becomes slightly less nerdy because of your influence. In turn he becomes a place of calm and reasoning in the midst of much insanity for you. It also helps that he's deliciously good looking and most of the single females in your acquaintance are madly jealous.

The most important thing that you'll discover later in life is how to weed people out. This is pertinent to your well being. All those people who are on a crusade to save you from yourself? Good news! They'll mostly be gone by the time you hit your 3rd year of university. You stop feeling the need to explain yourself to people and being misunderstood isn't so bad because you stop caring. Life keeps going on and it's not that bad.

Unfortunately you're a bit hit and miss in the boy department. Most of your relationships fizzle out and die a pathetic death because you refuse to be changed. A douche will famously quote to you the third stanza from "Marching Bands of Manhattan" in an attempt to make you feel badly about yourself, but instead you will feel emboldened and kick him to the curb. This is a trend that continues with you. It is also awesome.

You are also still terribly verbose. We will stop now.

Annnnnnnnnd I tag Tiny Little Fascist and Curious Yellow.

Here I am on your bed again-- it's too big for the room it's in.

I had a meeting with my manager today. End of the fiscal year, start of the new quarter. You know the thing. I'm coming up to my one year anniversary at work and my manager wanted to go over my results, I remarked to her how crazy it is that I lasted this long. After an hour going over various boring, financial things as I was walking out of her office she turned to me and said I'm wasting my time. Wasting my time and "not fooling anyone," were her exact words I believe.

Not really what I wanted to hear on a Friday morning. I guess it capped off the craptacular week I'd been having though. This week has been one of the worst I've had in a really long time. Career-wise, personally, socially. You name it. Everything found a way to slightly unravel itself and in the process make me despondent. Every now and then I start getting that same feeling I got towards the last couple of years in high school, like I've outgrown things. The cliched big fish in a little pond. Bleh.

I'm still in a pretty foul mood right now, but I've gained a little perspective and Maybe if I try just a little more, I can take myself from this dirty floor*. Ever so often I forget about the things that ground me. The people in my life, the things that I do to make myself happy. I've drowned myself in music (and forgotten to scrobble. Oops), cleaned my room, walked the dog. Re-evaluated. Bummed? Still? You bet.

Anyways, the room. It's been cleaned, but when I was going through the recent purchases and acquisitions I had very little to show. Trying to curb the spending to save for my pending January vacation.



As much as I try to be good, shoes remain my vice. So the brown oxford shoes were showcased in a post of their own, these red and black plaid pumps are from Joe Fresh. 25 bucks, who can go wrong for that price?



Note the abject squalor in the background. What? I'm not ashamed. Bring it! Found that sweater vest for $10 at some super random store at Scarborough Town Centre. The turtle neck is one of Ammi's cast offs from the early 90s and no jokes I've been rocking that thing since I was like 11 easily. Is it like a crop top? Yes. That's why it's worn underneath things, duh! Oh, also, I got my haircut at Pacific Mall. I have bangs again!



Everyone needs a pair of mustard stockings and a Nescafe briefcase. Incidentally, I recently re-discovered that under my bed. I bought in in Senegal. Whenever I see it I think of Moussa, my driver when I was there. One day when I'm far less lazy I may tell you the story of how this briefcase came to be in my possession.



I had every intention of getting a blouse made from this material (it's the blouse piece off of a very kitschy sari), but I never got around to it. With the colder weather on us I've started rocking it as a scarf. Note Oliver's smouldering manly look though. I've read a measly 39 books on this list this list, I'm sure he's read all of them. The bastard.



There's a sari store just around the corner from where I live. Last weekend Abi and I, for lack of anything else to do, headed over that way just to "browse." I walked away with two saris. I love that store because they have really retro prints, we've sort of come to the conclusion that it's unintentional, but I don't really care because the stuff is very inexpensive. Which means I don't feel bad dropping cash on them. That one was $7.50. Abs hates it, I love the pink checks. It's okay though, she and I hardly ever agree on clothing options.



So alright, this one time Abi and I totally did agree on a clothing choice. That grey jacket. We are at Vaughn Mills sometime in September and both spotted the jacket, ran over to the rack, proceeded to try it on, looked at each other and laughed. Although we were wearing the same garment we had both individually styled it so different you could hardly tell that the jackets were the same. I had my collar popped up like a big douche, the buttons undone in the front and my hands jammed into the pockets. She however was buttoned up, fully. All the way up to the throat. That's my Abi!



My cousin's getting engaged in November. Most of you know the background on that whole thing. I don't particularly want to go to it, she's a major contributing factor to a lot of the stress we as a family have been dealing with for the last little while. That's also a whole 'nother post. Anyways, I thought I'd wear a sari for the engagement, but decided not to. This is the second one that I got, paid a princely $14.00 for it. I think it looks much better on Oliver. Again, the vintage print. I love it.

Well, I sincerely hope that next week turns out to be better than the one I just had.

*Lyrics shamelessly stolen from Band of Skulls who TinyLF and I will be seeing in concert November 13th

I'm notorious for getting distracted. When I sit down to study I probably can't concentrate for more than 15 minutes at a time. I'm trying to study right now. In the last hour and a half I've gone through my photographs from Nuit Blanche, addressed those two yellow envelopes above and done some online banking.

Normally Oliver is under the desk and not on top of it, but he hates studying too. Usually if I'm trying to be diligent and not paying attention to him there will be a small Oliver sized pile of toys at my feet. All his vain attempts and getting me to play with him.

I tend to be a spreader. When I'm working my desk is usually covered in crap. The above is probably the desk on a fabulous day. That giant black binder has all my notes for that terrible ghost writing project I'm working on. My OCD still runs high, yes. That is a plastic ziplock bag with colour coded post-it notes of various sizes. Each post-it has a corresponding high lighter. Then we've got the Canadian Press guide on Caps and Spelling along with Canadian Press Style Guide. It's only been a few weeks since classes started, but both of those are starting to get pretty dog eared. My wallet and iphone are always within reach. The cellphone's a given and the wallet is for the credit card. What? I enjoy online shopping. Oh, my trusty laptop. I could devote an entire series of posts devoted to you. There's my glasses case on the side beside a my gold fish snack box. It's mandatory that there's something around to eat and drink.

Poor Cedric has been sequestered to the window. I was meaning to take him out for Nuit Blanche last night, but completely forgot about him until I was comfortably seated on the subway. He's nestled between two glass Coke and Pepsi bottles. They're filled with sand from my first trip to Sri Lanka. The Barbara Sansoni doll was a gift from my Uncle who passed away, he sent it to me through my grandmother on her first visit to Canada.

Think that's 15 minutes there. It's time to hit the books again?

Boo.

A continuation.

Classes have started up again and so have the long boring subway rides. I realised I had some unfinished business.

You may want to read this first if you want to understand what's going on below.

I think they always knew that if they left any kind of safety net they may have taken advantage of it and gone back. Since both my parents did a fair amount of business and personal travel back in those days we had bank accounts scattered throughout various hubs in Asia-Pacific. Thathi is always amazed by how quickly we were able to close out all the accounts and have all our other affairs ready to go. I think the entire process from start to finish was only six months?

So we left and it was far from easy. I don't think I ever asked my parents what they expected when we came, but I know whatever their expectations were, our first year euthanised those expectations completely. After trying my hand at moving to London the respect I have for what my parents did has increased. There were times when I felt desperate and I would think back to our earlier months in Canada. As a single person I was stressed out and I couldn't wrap my head around how difficult it would be with a young family. But they succeeded and our life here is equal in some aspects to the one we had back in Sri Lanka. No one regrets coming here.

So all those months ago when I was taking the piss put of that person's blogpost Thathi turned to Ammi with conviction and said, "I guess we'll be able to go home for good soon." Ammi gave him the usual rant about Tamils being marginalised etc (whole other blogpost kids. It's something along the lines of a Theodore Kaczynski style manifesto). But she seemingly agreed and I called bullshit.

You see, my parents? They sometimes forget what they were like when they were young and tell people that coming to Canada was about safety concerns. They couldn't deal with the suicide bombs and the general tension. Sure. It must've sucked, but it's also a steaming pile of crap.

I think you've gathered by now (especially those of you that know the parents) they're not your run of the mill Sri Lankan parents or even Sri Lankans for that matter. Regardless of if there was a war or not, they still would've hightailed the shit out of there.

Growing up I used to think they were cowards for leaving. I didn't really start to understand what their real motivations for leaving were until I went back to work in Colombo, that experience is very different from being a tourist. After the novelty of the first year wore off I felt like I was suffocating. The culture clash was too difficult for me to deal with and I finally understood why Ammi was happy that I don't have any Sri Lankan friends and Thathi was stoked when I decided working in Colombo wasn't for me. They left Sri Lanka because they wanted to, not because they had to. Both of them were being stifled to a breaking point and I know that feeling well. Whenever I try to explain my own restlessness to other people I can barely put it into words. Toronto is my home and there's no other place in the world that will ever take that place, but it doesn't mean I want to live here forever.

And that's the same reason my parents left. So no, they won't be flocking to Colombo with the other retirement aged members of the diaspora. (Lately there's been barely a peep of such talk.) I also guess this is the same reason that the two of them have been so damn supportive of all my harebrained schemes. The next of which may or may not involve a move to the States, Australia or Korea.

Who knows? I definitely don't that's for sure.

Srs Bzns

It's been busy. Nay hectic. July is nearly over and I've only got a rather hazy recollection of wtf has actually happened. Between final exams, papers and the usual gamut of summer school bullshit, Alby left to Korea for two years, a dear friend was visiting Toronto on business for a month, I was coerced into helping coordinate a wedding and doing logistics for a church conference. Unsurprisingly I am totally spent and all I want to do is sleep. I decided to knock out for a quick half an hour nap today after lunch. Which turned out to be slightly problematic because I accidentally set my alarm for 3:15 AM instead of PM. Subsequently I did not wake up early enough to shake off that assy feeling that you get when you've hit a good deep sleep. Boo.

Instead of studying or working on a pending writing project (that has been languishing for a few months) I opted to clean up my living quarters on Saturday. My standard of living can be described as being squalid at best, but I have an excuse! Did you see that whole thing earlier about me being terribly busy for all of July?

Anyways, we know what happens when I purpose to clean. Not much. Behold the fruit of my labour below.

I had one of those make or break career moments last Wednesday. Problem is I won't know if my career has been made or broken as of yet and won't find out until after the Labour Day weekend. Yeah. That's right. Early September. I lack the patience to wait that long for anything and I'm totally stressing out. The only way I've found to cope with all of this is to plan. My one year life plan for my career now has three options and all of them hinge on the answer I get in September. Since it was a director that I was meeting at the company HQ, alby and I hit the mall the previous week and found the below gem. It came with a sash of its own, but I coupled it with my grandfather's cummerbund which I'm sure I've photographed before.



Moving along. When Labro got married in May I was tasked with getting a pair of 'metallic high heeled sandals.' I was wearing the shortest dress of all the bridesmaids and couldn't get away with flats. Four inch heels and one blue bridesmaid's dress later...



While shopping for the shoes I of course browsed around and found these. I have not spent so much on a pair of shoes in a really long time. Even though they're Aldo, hot dang I don't have another pair of shoes that's made out of Italian leather as soft. Plus I think mustard is overtaking torquoise as my couleur du jour. Funny story, the cuffed jeans that the shoes are on top of? 20 bucks at American Eagle. Only hitch? The length is meant for regularly sized people and are therefore close to four inches too long for me (and they look like ass with those gold sandals).



One of my many glamorous jobs at the wedding was to herd around 30+ people around a park. Wearing a sari was not an option. I can't even sit properly in one of those let alone traipse through a poorly maintained park. (Boo to you Mayor Miller! Resolve the civic workers' strike already!) I thought I'd stay true to the Tamil roots and opted to use some silk pavadai chattai material (that I picked up from Ram Brothers down Sea Sreet) as a skirt paired with a random ancient beaded cami from Odel. It worked well enough although some of the old aunties had a few things to say. But really, when do they not?



Alby and I hit up a Jays' game earlier on in July and both walked out desperately wanting either a Blue Jays hat or tshirt. Thanks to the wonderful folks at footlocker and their buy one get one half off sale I picked up one for myself and for her as a going away gift. That hat is now safely ensconced at her apartment in Seoul. I'm going to miss you so much alby :(



I haven't worn a dress since I was in grade eight. All of that changed this year when Labro forced me into one. Then alby and I found this one for 15 bucks at bluenotes. That's when the epidemic started.



I bought this one just before I saw Transformers 2. It was probably the only good thing about that day because dang. That movie was crappy. If I hadn't seen it at the IMAX I think I may have left the theatre.



Labro and I went up to Barrie after work on Tuesday to say bye to alby. Her flight was way too early in the day for us to go to the airport (which is a real bummer because I love going there). Her parents are moving later on this summer and there was a pile of shiz stacked up for Goodwill and look at who was right on top?! That bag apparently was originally her dad's from way back in the day. So not only do I have her kid sister's hand-me-down skates which belonged to Alby and a couple of cousins before her, but I've also got Ron's bag. Pretty sweet! Oh, the cardigan is from a hole in the wall in Wellawatte. Rs 300 bitchz!



I've got a thing for scarves. Aiya found this one at the dollar store of all places and it's pretty hype. It's got Madge circa 1988 on it, her image is black and on a backdrop of different coloured squares: pink, orange, green, purple, yellow and blue. The pink top-like-thing I picked up last week while looking for someone else's birthday present. I know. I've really got to curb the shopping. As my people would say, "What to do no?"



And then it rained.



So I fished out the best umbrella I've ever had, one that I got from Arpico of all places. I'm sort of convinced that you can't really compete with umbrellas that have been designed to withstand the monsoons yo. That shit is serious.



After I tucked the camera away for the day I sat in a ratan chair and watched the rain come down.



Here's hoping for a chillaxed August.

Let's go home!

I haven't written a "real" blog post in awhile. Just don't seem to have the time these days between summer school, work and all the seasonal social obligations. The only time I can actually punch something out is when I'm on the subway. I've been pecking away at this for the last little while and I have no idea if I'll ever get around to finishing it, but it's a partially written post that was thoughtlessly written with my two thumbs on the iphone. I haven't read it over so you're warned...

More often than not these days our conversations around the dinner table always lead to the same thing: Ammi and Thathi retiring to Sri Lanka. I can't say that I'm completely opposed to the idea. The properties that they've been looking at are infinitely more conveniently located than where my grandmother lives. Plus centralised a/c is always ftw in gawdawful Colombo. Generally speaking though when the old couple appeal to me on important issues like proximity to other family members, 'hot spots' and wtf to do with the dog, my wont is to stare back blankly and blink a few times. This has rankled the old man into fits and caused Ammi her fair share of consternation as well. In their minds it would seem that Aiya and I don't give a shit what happens to them so long as they don't move in with either of us during their Golden Years. If I have the good fortune to have Aiya around (which these days is not the case due to the acquisition of a new femme) we will roll our eyes, hold our tongues and display a level of restraint hitherto unknown.

That all changed recently though. I was catching up on my feeds in the kitchen. I happened to start reading a blogpost that someone had written about the scattered Sri Lankan diaspora returning home. It was so asinine, ill conceived and ludicrous I couldn't help but read out a few of the more 'passionate bits' out loud for public ridicule. Ammi and Thathi responded in typical fashion. Mostly because they are generally aware of the writer's status as being an unbearable tosser and also because they don't really view themselves as being your run of the mill conflict-fleeing-Sri Lankans.

I suppose this is something I've meant to write about for some time and nevar could really be arsed to do. Most of you know in bits and pieces what I think and how I feel about the circumstances surrounding our migration as a family. I've never really sat down and gone through the whole thing in any cohesive manner so I guess this is as much for me as it is for you? In light of all the political events that have been unfolding it's unsurprising that I my thoughts on the subject are courted more frequently than in the past.

So here goes?

I'll start from the point that most people find relevant and I feel the need to add the disclaimer that not only do I personally feel it is irrelevant I also don't give a shit. In short, Thathi is Sinhalese and Ammi is Tamil. I know right? It's horrifying.

We lost our home in '83 due to this disgusting twist of fate. They found out that Ammi was Tamil through the voters list and our neighbours torched the house. We knew it was coming and our immediate family left to Thathi's parents place in Ratmalana. Amamma and Ammi's younger siblings weren't so fortunate. Amamma was a well known doctor in the area, her house was razed. She and Punchi mammah ended up in a refugee camp. My aunt saw the worst of it. She was on her way in from the city, saw people being burned alive. I know she used to sometimes wake up screaming from nightmares well into the 1990s. Obviously this is what happened to countless other Tamils in Colombo in 83 so it's really not that special. Needless to say that was the last year any of my Tamil family members ever voted.

Ammi says that one of her earliest memories as a child were houses burning and being hidden in a cupboard. She was very young when the first race riots broke out in the 50s. This whole being Tamil/Sinhalese thing was never an issue within our family, even at the point when Sri Lanka gained independence. My maternal grandfather wouldn't let his children speak Tamil at home and neither would my paternal grandfather. Actually scratch that, speaking the vernacular in either home was forbidden by both families by my great grandparents. I come from a long line of brown sahibs. Don't get me wrong though, I think both the Tamil and sinhalese sides would die if they were termed imperialists. My family were long time LSSP supporters and believed in a free independent Sri Lanka for all Sri Lankans.

I suppose it sounds so cheesey to say this now, but the older generation believed this with great vehemence. The next generation didn't quite get it right. At least not the Sinhalese generation. I learned what marginalization was from them when I made my first visit to Sri Lanka as a teenager.

Ammi's entire family eventually migrated either to Canada, Australia or the UK. I have no male Tamil family left except for 2 who married well established sinhalese women. We were originally slated to go to Australia. Ammi was petrified that we'd get killed for being half Tamil, it didn't make much sense for us to go but they put in their paperwork and Canada was the first to get back to us. In the 1950s my paternal grandfather nearly came to Canada with his young family. I think this was always meant to be our home.

The immigration officer who interviewed us tried to dissuade them from leaving. He didn't think they'd last more than six months in Toronto. Granted looking back my parents haven't got the foggiest clue as to how we made it. He was so intrigued by our family that he actually made a concentrated effort to keep tabs on our progress for close to 15 years. I think that he eventually made it to Cyprus and found himself a wife. That's when we lost touch with him. He's now actually a director in in the refugee and immigration department in Ottawa. It's a shame that Ammi's not as much of a pack rat as Thathi & I because she actually tossed out his letters.

We had a horrible dog named Sandy when we lived in Sri Lanka, actually he was Aiya's dog. Some random stray puppy that a family friend had given him, the kind that would go after chickens and neighbourhood children. Sandy wasn't around for very long if I recall correctly he was given away to the cook within the first few years of his life. Then we came to Canada and I desperately wanted a dog. Aiya and I both begged and begged, but it never happened. Aside from Ammi hating them we couldn't get one because "this is not Sri Lanka, dogs can't roam around outside," "you can barely take care of yourself," "who's going to feed/walk/groom it," and a host of other retarded excuses.

When my childhood home went up for sale one of the conditions that Thathi put on Ammi was that we'd be able to get a dog at the new house. She never really expected that we'd do it. Thathi came from that kind of home where each member of the family had a dog. Granted his dad was a planter and there was more than enough room for five beasts to be scampering about. He's a dog person and wanted one just as much as Aiya and I. So it happened that five years back for Father's Day, three months after we moved we bought Thathi a dog. This dog specifically:



I lied to him and told him that Jack Russell Terriers grow up to be mid-size and they don't shed much. You guys know that I am always covered head to toe in dog hair and it would be generous to say that he's "petite." In he barged into our lives and I'm sure like all first time puppy owners we felt like we had made a huge mistake. Some of my earlier blog posts (which are painful to read and I should just delete them because they're so horrible) document what a nightmare that we had with him.

He's sick and we don't know what's wrong with him. The vet's had him stay overnight because he's on an IV drip they suspect it may be a case of pancreatitis. We just want to bring him home. I went and visited him during my lunch break and he looked absolutely miserable. They had to shave his leg to get the IV apparatus on.



Five just seems like an awfully young age to go.

Blurgh.

I'm feeling a bit muddled so advanced apologies for the following post. Don't judge me. It's not going to make much sense. My advice is to just look at the pictures?



The last week and a bit has seen me drag my ass out of bed in the mornings. Waking up has become decidedly more difficult in recent times. The stupid thing is that I can't sleep in past 9 AM on a Saturday morning anymore which leads me to perch with my laptop in bed to catch-up on work. Lame I know. Invariably this means Oliver manages to wriggle himself into prime laptop real estate rendering work impossible.



I've had that blazer since my first year of university. Got it for 10 bucks at Urban Outfitters in the "preloved" section. It's probably one of the cheapest things that's lasted the longest in my wardrobe. That scarf is a hacked up sarong that someone gave to Aiya thinking he'd wear. If I'm not mistaken it's from Kerala and is something called "digital" batik. Yeah, I don't know what that is either.



The above shade of blue is quickly becoming my favourite colour for this spring/summer. Aunty Esther got me that scarf for my birthday. Although it's hard to believe it looks much better on me than on Oliver. I prefer to not wear it as a burqa.



Most recent frivolous shoe purchase? Purple suede kitten heels for work. That scarf was the result of a Salvation Army rummage sometime near the turn of the last century.



Hey! Look! It's that shade of blue again. I've stopped just randomly going into stores for no reason because 1. pretty soon I will be broke (yay for school!) and 2. I have no self control.



Been rocking a lot of saris lately. This is the one I wore to Ann's wedding.



Got this one for 15 bucks. Ammi would never let me wear this for any kind of Sri Lankan-type function because um, it was 15 bucks and also it doesn't look like someone threw-up sequins all over it. It worked well for Labro's mom's 50th birthday though. (I know, I still can't get over how young her parents are either. Mine are such dinosaurs.) I love the print on it though. It feels so kitschy and I usually couple it with my Lee denim jacket with the collar popped.



Another 15 buck find. What? There was a sale. Haven't had a chance to wear this one yet, I'm thinking maybe this weekend for Labro's shower? I love the blue on this and again the kitsch makes me feel a bit squee. Alas the denim jacket will not work in this situation, the shades of blue don't go. I may need to buy gladiator sandals just to couple with it. Hmmm.



I spent most of today mucking about in the kitchen with tablecloths, bedsheets, random coasters and ramekins. I'm trying to figure out the best way to take pictures of v-manties bridal cakes, mini-cakes and cupcakes for her portfolio. Aiya picked up the cutest glass coaster sets from China town about three summers back to use outside for barbeques. Ammi is so paranoid that they'll shatter and break that they've never even seen the natural light of the sun.



He really is a good sport innit?



This February would have been Mamma and Pappa's 60th wedding anniversary. We had big plans for some sort of hoopla/family reunion, but Pappa had to go and die last year ruining all of that. This is an excerpt from the birthday letter I got from Mamma this year. You probably can't read it, but here's the important bit:

Well as for me, life is very lonely. I miss Pappa so much, I don't think I will ever get back to my former happy life. Though people say that with time life will change, I don't think it will ever be the same with me. Because ours was a very close friendship from school days and God created us for each other and he blessed us to be husband and wife. Our marriage was made in heaven and we were meant for each other. Pray for me putha to bear up this great loss..."

The story of how they hooked up is for another blogpost kids.



Speaking of grandparents though, I got a new pair of glasses that at some point in time all three of of my grandparents rocked. (The large picture is of Amammah that was taken a few months before she died and the wee one is of Mamma and Pappa just after he retired I think.)



Beginning of April is always a bit shitacular because it's the month Amammah died. You know I still have incredibly vivid dreams of her. I wake up thinking that she's alive and it feels so fantastic until I realise it's a dream. Those three books, A Tale of Two Cities, The Old Curiosity Shop and Bleak House were gifted to me by her the year I turned 10. I think I must have been in grade 4? I've got more than one copy of a Tale of Two Cities now because that original one is so tattered. That ghetto ass crocheted blanket that the books are sitting on top of is made up of leftover yarn. She used to knit for charity. Winter hats and mittens for the homeless along with baby things for low-income families. She was fantastic.



What kind of child reads Charles Dickens when they're 10? I was such a freaking nerd eh? Amammah encouraged my ridiculous reading habits and told me that any words I came across that I didn't know I should underline so that she could explain them to me in context. Not sure if she actually expected me to make it through a Tale of Two Cities or not but I carried my 2HB pencil around and made it a point to underline every single word I didn't know. This particular passage had "inexorable," "perpetuation" and "inscrutable" flagged as unknown. I still don't really know what "inexorable" means. (Those are Amammah's old reading glasses.) A Tale of Two Cities remains up there as one of my faveourite books.



When Aiya and I were really small Amammah used to make us a "white chicken curry," which was mild enough for us to eat. I don't know if other Sri Lankan homes functioned like this, but the general guideline at our place was if a meat curry was too hot for a child to eat then said piece of meat would be washed of all spices and given to non-spice eating child. This was terrible because the meat would lack all flavour. She used to make this for us as an alternative. I still get cravings for it and I can't make it exactly the way she did but the above is my vain attempt.

I wish she was still around.

The face of a winner

Oliver rocking his Steelers gear (i've got no idea what blogger decided to eff up the image even though I categorically asked for it to be "medium" so that it'd fit the goddamn page. Click it to see the lovely mutt's entire face.)

Another Superbowl done and finished with. This one was meh at best. Highlight of the evening was probably the tandoori chicken wing ranch dip combo.

Sadly no witty quips on the part of aiya this year. We were in mixed company so he behaved. Although my uncle did have a few unprintable yet hilarious things to say about various ethnic groups and women. Bless 'em bigots.

Although Thathi did remark on sighting the Boss on stage for the halftime show "Shit. He looks a lot like Hugo Chavez"

philth

My failures at thoroughly cleaning out my room are well documented. The last time I attempted I got severely derailed because I found heaps of old things that I didn't know I had and then took pictures. This time an ultimatum was passed down by Ammi over the weekend. Under no circumstances was the new year allowed to befall without a complete clean up of the living quarters. What antiquated superstition she was trying to impose on me only God knows but I did comply. For very different reasons, but still.

1. Running out of clean clothes: scrounging around for clean socks and underwear at ungodly hours of the morning are not acceptable practice for someone who keeps everything so finely timed (i.e. does not roll out of bed until absolutely necessary)

2. Newly acquired clothing was going missing. Ditto for pairs of shoes. I could locate one while the other would be carelessly tossed into some corner not to be found until unneeded.

3. I was starting to get grossed out.

It should come as no surprise that having a steady paycheque has also meant a steady influx of new material possessions.


I rocked a sari for the very first time at V-mantie's wedding in October. I think alby may have very well nearly shit herself. Ammi naturally had to treat herself to some new threads as well because sari shopping with me was no easy feat. That scarf is the blouse piece from one that she picked up. The cardi's new and that t-shirt is an oldie but a goodie. Aiya bought it for me a couple of summers back and it's one of my prized possessions.


Yes. Yes. Poor Oliver. Enough. If he wants to lounge uninvited on my bed he must pay. So yet another fedora to add the collection of wool ones that I never wear. In my defence it was going on sale for 10 bucks at Urban Outfitters. How can you say no to a deal like that??


When does a super cute clutch ever need an explanation? That shirt on the other hand, it's a story in and of itself. It's actually an ancient Club Monaco shirt of Aiya's that I now wear as a wrap dress. Honestly, it's a men's XXL. There's not much else that I could do with it but I love the colour palette.


If I knew how to paint I'd imagine myself wearing a smock similar to do this while pretending to be inspired. One thing that's died very hard in my foray into bonafide corporate whoring is giving up the kitschy wardrobe. I try to mix it up as much as I can with faux-vintage pieces like this but sadly they only come out to play on casual Fridays. In my past life this would've been considered "meeting attire."


That inability to wear heels? Yeah. I still haven't found a cure for that debilitating disease yet. It's tough seeing Labro every single day at work and have her tower over me. Sadly the option of falling on my ass every time there's a lump in the rug really is not viable either. What? Flats can be hot too!


Ugh. What is up with the snow? You know all these weather peeps were saying that this year we wouldn't get pelted with as much snow as last but I think those mofos be lying yo. The last couple of days have really not been fun and from what I understand this week's not going to be overly pretty either. Thankfully I got my new boots just in time and believe me, sourcing these out was NOT an easy task. When it comes to winter boots I am uber picky. I haven't bought a new pair in over four years because I was totally in love with my old ones. (I got them from Gap kids!)


Mad Men is one of my favourite TV shows. It's interesting because out of all the shit you find running during the summer this is actually a show that Ammi and I can agree on watching. She sits back in abject horror and relives what it was like to be a woman breaking into the early days of the ad industry and lust after Ms. Holloway. Anyone who can get away with saying "décolletage" without coming across like an utter tool is A-OK in my books. If I had the above blouse and shoes around Halloween I totally would've dressed up as Joan. Alas both were rather recent acquisitions.


Vests like clutches? Never enough I say! Especially when they have been bought at 85% off the original price. Even I like to bargain shop folks. Don't be fooled.


Who knew that my new favourite pair of jeans would come from Old Navy! I sure as hell never did. Those shoes, I *heart* them but they're damn uncomfortable. I need to invest in some good insoles ASAP. Also, what is up with those weird veins popping out of my feet? WTF. I really hope it's the weird angle that I was holding the camera in because that's just creepy. From my vantage point I've never seen those before!


Handbag purchases fall into a category all on their own. Unlike a clutch I will not impulsively buy a handbag. The issue is that I hate carrying around a camera bag with all my gear shoved into it, I'd much rather have a roomy handbag. I feel a bit less paparazzo you know? This bag is parfait. It's got loads of space for my camera body, 3 lenses, external flash and even tripod attachment pieces with room left over for other shit. The best thing? I personally don't think it comes across looking like a massive Mary Poppins bag. Oh. The scarf I'm wearing around my wrist? A gift from Aiya. The only piece of Liz Claiborne in my wardrobe. Since my bed was occupied by a sleeping hound I had to take advantage of the parentals' room for this photo.


See above: inability to wear heels. Also, my current favourite pair of socks :)


I found this scarf tucked away in a bag of stuff that I hadn't touched since coming back from London. Man, talk about sentimental value. It was one of my very first purchases from the Salvation Army way, way back in high school. I'm pretty sure that I was with alby when I hunted this down and paid 75 cents for it. Technically not a new item, but a found one! That cardigan? Hah, I picked that up at a dodgy store in Wellawatte right across the street from the Savoy. Best 250 Rs I ever spent in my life.


I was in desperate need of a new winter coat. One day when I was waiting to pick up the fascist from the bus station I popped into the local H&M and walked out with an inexpensive winter coat. Natch I needed to get a bag to match. Incidentally those leather gloves are actually goatskin ones that I bought at Odel about 4 years ago. They're perfect for winter driving because I can't deal with a frozen steering wheel and these take the chill right out.