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.

| Nerdery.

New brown shoes and the Canadian Press Style Guide for this semester's course on writing press releases. Exciting!

Don't really know why, but I always have to buy a new pair of shoes before school starts. It doesn't feel like the start of a school year without them (see above for new shoes). I've gone through a smidge over two decades of first day of school jitters and excitement. Like many other scholars who've been headed back to the books this month I too view my year as 'beginning' in the fall. January is set aside for looking back at the calendar year, but September has always been about setting goals and trying to figure out how to achieve them. Unsurprisingly, 20+ years of school and I still haven't a bleeding clue. If anything the future seems so much hazier now than ever before. Of course I have an idea of where I want to be academically and careerwise in the next couple of years. The difference though is that I'm not as consumed by it.

I look back at my younger self sometimes and want her to a) stfu and b) chill the shit out. If you ask aiya he'll readily tell you that out of the two of us I was the one born with the silverspoon shoved up my ass. No denying that and I'm not ashamed of it either. This can however be problematic because I'm prone to be an irritating overachiever. Even though lately people have started to grow concerned that I'm still in school, working in a field that I never in a million years expected to be in, I don't give a shit. I'm not just managing, I'm excelling in what I do. Guess the reason why I'm generally so 'meh' about the entire thing is that I will never let work define who I am and instead I'll hang on to school for as long as I can. Even though I don't need to be doing there's still some thrill left in education.

Here's to being a lifelong nerd.

Cheers.

Lyk OMG

I'm trying to de-clutter my life, being such a packrat, it's not surprising some of the shit I'm holding on to. Found a box of old papers and letters from High School. Labro and I had a habit of pretending to write class notes while actually fully recapping daily drama. School was never really important to either of us. Yeah. I know. Look where that's gotten BOTH of us now.

Anyways, below is a prime example of what a normal set of "class notes" would look like. I re-read the note and honestly, I don't have a clue what it's referring to...I can only guess though.

Check it! (Oh, also, I believe that if you click the image you'll be able to see it much larger. Fear not though, I've copied and pasted the text below as well)



Conclusion? Not much has changed. Also, I do believe that the blanked out bits are real name call outs and also my use of salty language.

You will not believe what happened last night my gosh the amount of drama that was going on ___ ____ ____ i was dying!

Okay so I was (as usual) minding my own damn business when ___ and I started talking on icq. She msged me and i was so surprised. Well long story short she told me how she's basically ____ about my relationship with ____ and ____. LOL I didn't even know it mattered to her. Then on icq i was talking to ___ about what ___ did at lunch to you and he got really mad. (I thought he knew about it but he didn't). THEN ___ calls me up and he's telling me all about his love ish (LOL). So I call up ____ to ask her about ___ and ___ ___ pulls a fast one on me and ends up weeping on the phone. I couldn't call ____ and I couldn't call you. So ___ it was. The amount of drama.

It's kinda funny actually. It's bad but funny she's jealous of ____ and ___! He's like "WTF is wrong with them?!" and he actually said I never should have said anything to ____.

Before she started weeping I told her to cut it out with the teasing. She got really mad at me! GROW UP. I can understand what they're both saying, but that's so selfish and juvenile, it's insane man. But the thing is though, he's the type of person who doesn't like fuss. In that way he's like me...that's the exact reason why I never said anything to anyone about George. But I understand that they don't mean to do it. Thy don't know when to stop. He thinks they're doing it on purpose, he doesn't understand girls. From a guy perspective it's a big deal. He's not wrong. He so rarely expresses his feelings out loud like this and I feel bad because when he does they make fun of him. Like when he thought ___ was hot LOL.

I can't believe though that ____ got mad at me about that. That got me mad because she was acting like she doesn't care you know? Like regardless of whether she thinks it's stupid or not it's your feelings and she should respect that.

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.

What's so Bad About Dying Anyways?

When you're a kid there will always be certain things which are the shit because you honestly don't know any better. Martin Streek definitely fell into that category.

Growing up Aiya and I depended on the radio for new music. If a new single came out we used to record it off of the radio. I feel like a dinosaur, but I still have cassette tapes, lovingly labeled with artist name, song, date and time. CFNY was my station. Even now when I see Allan Cross walking around downtown I become a total tool. I had a radio in my room that didn't have a recording device on it, just a straight up battery operated radio. When I was in elementary school Martin Streek was an integral part of my life. Thursday night he used to host a show called the Thursday Thirty which counted down the top 30 songs for the week and also introduced new artists. I'd usually fall asleep before the end of the show, but it was Martin who introduced me to Sloan and Radiohead. I'd head to school on Friday mornings feeling like such a badass. Michael and I used to talk music when we should've been doing math, but we used to compare notes and swap artist names. He was an avid Thursday Thirty listener too.

With the dawn of our dial-up internet connection my dependence on the radio slowly began to wane, but all of that changed when I started to work in Sri Lanka. Because of the time difference between Toronto and Colombo I used to catch the Thursday Thirty streamed live on Friday mornings at work. Between that and reading Torontoist and Now online, home didn't seem so far away. I've always said that I become much more patriotic when I'm away from home than when I'm actually here. For a couple of hours every Friday morning I used to feel like I was at home. Without the familiarity of Martin Streek's voice and on air style I doubt I would have felt the same way. That's when I started to understand why the migrant community in Toronto tried so, so hard to hold on to where they came from. Really I was no different, tuning into a Toronto radio station, reading Toronto street magazines. Obviously when I do it's way less fobby. But still.

I found out that Martin had committed suicide via Torontoist on Tuesday morning. When I was on my way home from work Josie Dye (who for the record I cannot EFFING STAND. She and the Dean Blundell Show epitomise everything that's awful with what CFNY now known as edge102 has become) was talking to David Bookman about what had happened. Bookie was just about to take over the afternoon drive shift and one of the first songs that he played in Martin's honour was actually The Lines you Amend by Sloan. It's actually one of my favourite Sloan songs of all time and oh so fitting.

Bye Martin. Toronto is not going to be the same without you. I will miss your voice.


photo from exclaim.ca

When I get stressed out I tend to have really insane dreams. Well, I shouldn't say really insane, but you know. Which I guess goes without saying because most dreams always do have a strong element of wtf. It is however that time of year in the summer semester where there are assignments galore and midterms. That means catching up on a condensed half a year worth of reading I haven't done. To make matters slightly more harrowing I need to point out that I'm a proud student at two different universities. So on Mondays and Wednesdays I'm at U of T and Tuesdays and Thursdays at Ryerson. Oh, did I mention that in the sea of books, papers and shoe receipts that is my room I have misplaced my faithful mouthguard. That ingenious creation that stops me from grinding my teeth and saves me from insomnia. My grinding increases with stress and the insomnia from the teeth grinding brings on the effed up dreams.

Last night I wanted to go to bed early, the weekend was hectic. I've been immersed in Victorian lit (and maybe this is the reason for the dreams? All the repression?!) and wanted to take a minute to send Alby a goodbye note before she headed to Memphis. With all this swirling around in my head I went to bed at an indecent hour and had this dream.

We were headed to London, but as usual running late, got separated and boarded the plane individually. When we were in highschool and went on trips, we were Those Kids. You know, the ones that unspoken-ly got the back of the bus even if they're the very last ones to get on? This plane was no exception. Lo and behold Alby, Labro, Copto, Whoren and even Hoolia were all at the back of the plane. Apparently Labro and I were headed to South Africa after London. (Which seriously, wtf. She's the least likely out of everyone to want to do that. Also, no husband either.)

As we buckled ourselves in for take-off, a flight attendant came by, confiscated my iphone, passport and copy of George Eliot's Middlemarch. (I'm actually frantically trying to finish reading that for my mid-term on Wednesday.) This starts a series of scandalised whispers between the girls because as in real life, I look like ass in my passport picture and the flight attendant was all kinds of good looking.

We make it to London and go our separate ways. Emily leaves me for South Africa and I'm left stranded at the Heathrow (an airport I HATE) because the aforementioned confiscated documents. I head over to a kiosk and try to passively aggresively throw a civilised shit fit. Finally the same flight attendant comes by, gives my shiz back and I get upgraded to business class. (You'd think I'd have fought for 1st class eh? Even in dreams I aim low.) In a Bollywood twist of fate he turns out to be my seat neighbour and he's reading Bleak House. He turns to me and asks if I understand anything about the intricacies of the Victorian-era British legal system. I attempt to explain (sadly it is almost a word-for-word repetition on some short hand notes I made on the topic for my mid-term. I had been going over them earlier on in the evening). We then turn our attention over to George Eliot, banter on about Daniel Deronda, Eliot's supposed Christian fundie phase and her general scandalousness.

Natch at this point, I'm all "OMG. THIS FLIGHT ATTENDANT IS LYK TEH BEST EVAH!!1!one1" Then it happens. He transforms into Optimus Prime and ruins everything.

So what did we learn from all of this?
1. I am a giant nerd even in my dreams and Victorian lit is still totally hot.
2. My subconscious is telling me that I should re-look at going to South Africa.
3. Seeing the new Transformers movie really is a must.
4. I'm sort of effed for my mid-term on Wednesday.

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.

Screenshot from my twitter account.

I was driving home last Sunday around 4:30ish from Debbie's place in some pretty heavy stop and go traffic. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, I was on the cusp of a rice coma and to prevent myself from falling asleep at the wheel I turned on the radio. Fortunately for me I was able to catch the tail end of the Strombo Show and he was previewing some tracks off of the new Decemberists' album, The Hazards of Love.

As I listened to "The Rake's Song" and mentally went over the day (I was dragged to a Bridal show), a Cheshire Cat type grin spread across my face. Of course I fully empathised with the narrator (despite not being 21 anymore *sob*). Ever since the general unwashed masses found out about Debbie's impending nuptials, Abi and I have started getting some crazy heat from all and sundry about "settling down." As I've mentioned in the past there's nothing unusual with that, but lately we're finding the renewed interest a bit harder to laugh off. Mostly because it's coming from people who should genuinely know better. Abi's a sweet, good natured person and you can generally guess how I, ever the commitmentphobe, have been dealing.

Alby was in town over the weekend for a few wedding related festivities and we got to talking about how last year this time I was in London. Being in a bit of a nostalgic mood here are a few journal entries from that time that've been in the vault.

March 4, 2008

It's amazing what can happen in a month.

Just over a month ago I was super stoked for my big move to London and my trip to Barcelona. Instead all the plans that I had and the way I had envisaged myself settling into this next phase of my life essentially got side swiped like a car at a T-junction.

Did a run to IKEA the other night with Thorn, probably didn't need to but I wanted things to feel a bit normal. Picked up some stuff to make my "room" a bit more habitable. I use quotes because I swear this place is smaller than my walk-in closet in Toronto. I felt lost last week, it's been years since I've felt that way.

Alby was totally aghast. God only knows what Labro would've done to me. Probably punched me in the face and told me to man up and find some balls. Just like how it's amazing what can happen in a month, I'm struck by how much has happened in a week. Tez witnessed The Panic which lasted give or take 2 days. But still, I don't panic to that degree ever. Things are starting to look up.

April 22, 2008

I have now worked at a grand total of 2 boutique ad agencies since coming to London. My lovely headhunter warned me ahead of time to brace myself for what would be an immense culture shock. Corporate whoring aside, working in London is a different beast altogether.

I have moaned and groaned about not being taken seriously because of my fluid identity time and time again. The weekend found thorn and I at a dingy club, unsurprisingly I was the only coloured person in the joint. Usually there's at least a token black person. Not this time. Some shitfaced cockney and one of his mates came up to us and in a vain attempt to pick me up asked me if I was black.

Yeah. Needless to say he didn't get very far.

And because the walk down memory lane didn't end there, here are some tweets (I feel like that's the only way to legitimise the above screenshot). Plus the vast majority of you wouldn't have even read this while they were happening since they're restricted. I hardly did any blogging while I was in the UK so here goes:

I have rediscovered twitter. less emo more happy!
6:40 PM Mar 25th, 2008 from web

I'm gainfully employed bitchz!
10:34 AM Mar 31st, 2008 from web

@drac I want to be intoxicated in some form or manner too! Just cashed my last lot of traveler's cheques. unpleasant.
12:45 PM Apr 1st, 2008 from web

@tezcat i'm wracking my brains trying to figure out the name of the green book on sustainable development is. Damn you Goodreads. Damn you.
5:12 PM Apr 1st, 2008 from web

I have eaten the best sammich ever. Who knew crumpets could be that good?
5:26 PM Apr 2nd, 2008 from web

Why is the washing machine making that noise? It's either going to flood the flat or burn it down. I will not be held responsible for either.
9:29 AM Apr 3rd, 2008 from web

Flatmate went drinking @ the tate+house party in the lower flat+really hot italians=a ditched Pula and fun times.
12:32 AM Apr 5th, 2008 from web

When asking about my Sat night plans the flatmate accused me of being the 'thinking man's nympho.' wtf indeed peeps. wtf indeed.
8:40 AM Apr 5th, 2008 from web

Correction: apparently it was actually the "cerebral man's nympho," because that makes it better.
9:08 AM Apr 5th, 2008 from web

I have a new British ghey bestfriend. weeee!
9:07 AM Apr 6th, 2008 from web

'Ah so that's what your initials stands for. I'm not going to be insulting & try to pronounce it'
5:56 PM Apr 6th, 2008 from txt

My new job sucks but is $ coming in. If 1 more person says I have a 'beautiful name' I may go Waco.
5:52 AM Apr 7th, 2008 from txt

flatmates are screaming "GOAL." Apparently there's a football game. I'm displeased. Trying to catch up on missed episodes of Project Runway
2:00 PM Apr 8th, 2008 from web

@TinyLF "PENALTY, PENALTY" is being screamed at horrendous volumes.
3:28 PM Apr 8th, 2008 from web in reply to TinyLF

the (football) hoodlums have no made it to the street.
4:08 PM Apr 8th, 2008 from web

I'm headed 2 a funeral in Brixton & the Black Crows are playing the Sound Academy. Bleh.
6:53 PM Apr 9th, 2008 from txt

Checking out guys at a funeral is so tasteless. Please feel free to disagree. Anyone?
8:12 PM Apr 9th, 2008 from txt

I have been informed that i need to know about quantitative research methods for tomorrow. wtf! I'm an arts student, we don't know this shit.
5:27 PM Apr 9th, 2008 from web

Job interview #459285. "Bring your passport" they say. Am I going to be sold into slavery? Who knows.
9:48 AM Apr 10th, 2008 from web

Another interview, another job offer, another "wtf a 1 year work visa?" another monumental PHAIL.
3:58 PM Apr 10th, 2008 from web

Applying for jobs in Toronto while I'm in London. Decidedly teh weirdness. How the mighty have fallen etc.
9:43 AM Apr 10th, 2008 from web

Gah. it has been a truly bipolar day. Interview at DDB London for an actual short term contract position.
12:18 PM Apr 10th, 2008 from web

The mater arrives at Heathrow in T -1hr15mins. Must get supplies.
12:53 PM Apr 11th, 2008 from web

Mater & the aunt are totally MIA. Only my family'll do this kind of shiz.
3:34 PM Apr 11th, 2008 from txt

Doesn't matter how old you are, having your mom around when things go to shit is awesome.
6:20 PM Apr 11th, 2008 from txt

Is there a soccer game tonite? Lots of hot boys in blue Chelsea jerseys
6:47 PM Apr 14th, 2008 from txt

Half a glass of wine shouldn't make anyone this giggly. Gawd. I need new friends
9:06 PM Apr 14th, 2008 from txt

Crazy bag lady screamed out 'go home paki' as I walked by. At least toronto homeless aren't racists. They are bitter though.
4:56 PM Apr 14th, 2008 from txt

'Just print out your timesheet on the printer called "sausage."' How can I possibly keep a straight face?
11:31 AM Apr 15th, 2008 from web

ZOMG! Hottest guy in London sitting next to me on the tube & I look like total ass. Why God? Why?! /shakes fist.
2:41 PM Apr 16th, 2008 from txt

Frenchman, French novels and conversations in French. Bliss?
8:33 PM Apr 17th, 2008 from txt

The hordes of teenage girls at the Primark on Oxford St must die. Or maybe i'll just cut them all instead? Teh rage. I have it.
3:38 PM Apr 18th, 2008 from txt

Do I srsly need another pair of kickass over priced sneakers? Should I be buying 'grown up shoes?' Heels? Psylog?
4:39 PM Apr 18th, 2008 from txt

Non-English speaking flatmate ftw! 'how do you say a transformers?' 'dude you mean transexual?'
11:42 PM Apr 19th, 2008 from txt

What a flipping sausage fest. Cutest boy in da house 'i really like your trainers.' I made the right choice!
12:18 AM Apr 20th, 2008 from txt

Comparing me to a Postal Service song & then telling me you like beer? I'm in love!
12:32 AM Apr 19th, 2008 from txt

When did doing lines in the livingroom at 6pm on a Sunday become acceptable? I'm getting old.
^:18 PM Apr 20th, 2008 from txt

'Mind if I pop my stuff at the end of your thing while I go for a wee?' Damn you British people, don't you realise? Innuendo is everywhere!
11:04 AM Apr 22nd, 2008 from web

Perhaps I'm just actually a 12 year old boy?
11:04 AM Apr 22nd, 2008 from web

I'm always lost. Yet tourists come to me as if I know wtf I'm doing and where places are.
12:21 PM Apr 22nd, 2008 from txt

Why is it that in any part of the world Sri Lankan Airlines is always out to eff you over?
11:00 AM Apr 23rd, 2008 from web

Tube? I will not miss you. No. Srsly I won't. There's no hope for reconciliation.
3:25 PM Apr 23rd, 2008 from txt

Damn you lolcats. I no longer know how to spell MOAR.
9:18 AM Apr 24th, 2008 from txt

Wtf do Italian fiends always have to travel in packs of 20?! If I hear Napoli 1 MOAR time...
2:07 PM Apr 24th, 2008 from txt

I hate taking all my gear to concerts. If you had any sense you'd know that my mac is low end, the camera is shit and not professional.
2:42 PM Apr 24th, 2008 from txt

The camera lenses are crap too. This is why I don't have a press pass you idiots.
2:44 PM Apr 24th, 2008 from txt

Contact highs ftl! I have the munchies. Loud Americans! Always ruining good music for everyone.
3:45 PM Apr 24th, 2008 from txt

Is it totally pathetic that I keep thinking I see my toronto peeps everywhere because I'm so excited about going home? A bit?
10:40 AM Apr 25th, 2008 from txt

ZOMG! Two geese are getting it on at St James park. I may throw up my sammich.
1:50 PM Apr 25th, 2008 from txt

Murukku & spanish rioja ftw. That's the way to keep it classy.
11:45 PM Apr 25th, 2008 from txt

Srsly you have to stop talking. No one cares. I don't want to hear about how you 'nearly scored' last nite. I was THERE & no you didn't.
11:53 PM Apr 25th, 2008 from txt

No he doesn't love you & you've never done coke you've just met your 2 glass of quota of wine. Stop with the paint by numbers psychology.
12:47 AM Apr 26th, 2008 from txt

Chelsea fans everywhere. They've overridden the tube. As if this journey wasn't going to normally be painful enough.
2:11 PM Apr 26th, 2008 from txt

There are cops all up in my hood because of the football rowdies. Hot men in uniform ftw!
2:26 PM Apr 26th, 2008 from txt

So apparently that big structure that I can see from my window is the Chelsea grounds. All of a sudden things make sense.
2:58 PM Apr 26th, 2008 from txt

Goodbye London. You were an utter bitch but I'll still miss you.
11:13 AM Apr 26th, 2008 from txt

Toronto. It is good to be in your familiar embrace once again but why does it still feel like winter?! And you feel a bit distant.
9:19 AM Apr 27th, 2008 from txt

/fin

They flashed a photograph, it couldn't be you.

I was taking one of my last Canadian policy pre-req courses and was meandering over to the Toronto Reference Library from the subway station. Somehow thorn and I had managed to get our paws on an early release of Picaresque and I was lost in the music. It was 2005 and my God, looking at that date I can't believe that it's been four years. That album is still very much in heavy rotation on my ipod.

I still want to get a running start, grab a 2x4 and go apeshit on that pretentious, shit head of a kid who was just about 3 months into one of the most defining years of her life. You see, lately I have been looking back at not just this last year but life in general. The things I imagined myself doing four years ahead of time in March 2005 couldn't be any different than what I'm doing now.

Not only do I work in the financial sector, I actually sort of like it. This is something that would have horrified me four years ago. If I had gotten any inclination of this back then, I'm sure I would've killed myself. The problem that I'm having is trying to explain this to my friends. Lovely, wonderful people who mean so much to me but just don't get it. The snapshot of me now is utterly unrecognisable to the person they used to know. I haven't really been around all that much. Come to think of it, except for 2004 the last 12 years hasn't seen me rooted in Toronto for 12 months at a stretch. I feel that's partially the reason why my inner circle of peeps recall a person who is wildly different from who I've become.

The choice to stick it out in Toronto was a tough one to make last July but I thought it was for the best. The initial reaction from most people was, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" It felt good to turn down that London job offer (not enough money! Screw you brit a-holes). It also felt good to finally feel part of things. Last year when I was trying to figure out whether or not to go to London or South Africa, I casually mentioned to one of Ammi's business colleagues that, "it would be really nice to have a permanent address where I could get a 12 month magazine subscription sent to."

You know what? It really is nice. Labro is getting married in May and I'm here. Forget the whole wedding hoopla, it's such a novel-high-school feeling for me to actually be watching everything unfold instead of getting email updates and half arsed information rallying via instant message. There's a context to life that's been absent for a long while and it's simply geographical. I never got a chance to properly get to know her fiance because I was never here! It's clear that over the last few years I haven't been holding a monopoly on excitement. My friends have accomplished and experienced incredible things too.

Labro and I were sitting in her livingroom last summer, I had just finished detailing to her about the time one of my London flatmates nearly OD'd on coke in our flat on a Sunday afternoon. She looked at me and with all sincerity said, "life must be so boring for you now that you're back in Toronto."

Being back permanently hasn't been all that bad. In December I got called in for an interview with a firm that I had been dying to work with in a position that was perfect for me. It no longer fit in with who I was evolving into though. That feeling of walking into a room and knowing you're owning it is fantastic. I charmed the interviewers and got offered the job. It felt even greater to say no and I had a surge of validation. (I know. I clearly have issues.)

Things have changed though yo, I've now actually got the time and the drive to do things that I enjoy. I am up-to-date on everyone's life! My camera isn't as neglected as it was before and I've got a guilt-free-disposable income. With all of those warm, fuzzy feelings aside, one thing I will concede: you guys are right, I am wasting my life being a drone. But cut my some slack? It takes a bit of time to bounce back from wanting to save the world and working the non-profit circle. Don't think of the current state of my life as "settling," it's not. I'm just trying to figure things out. It is nice to feel so loved and you will be happy to hear that I will be going back to school.

I am looking forward to May.

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.

Single parent family

Thathi's half a world away and he still manages to wreak unspeakable havoc on my life even from such vast distances. I got a 6:30 AM wakeup call from him yesterday. Ugh. I know he hates going on vacation alone but honestly in this instance I suppose he really didn't have much of a choice. This is the first Christmas that my grandmother's having in over 60 years that doesn't involve my grandfather. I can't even begin to fathom it actually. Like I've mentioned before, old people come better in pairs like socks and twix. Fortunately for me Ammi has not yet entered into the annoying stage of things just yet but I'm sure our time will come soon enough. We definitely don't have an overly traditional family setup going on for us at the homestead and one thing has become more evident. Ammi would've really sucked as a single parent.

In other news Oliver is entering day #5 of deperession. Yesterday he was leaning against the bathtub in the lightless bathroom for close to 30 minutes. No amount of coaxing could get him out. Labro came by last night to play some pool and this is the furthest he got down the stairs. The blighter is so dramatic. He just sat on the landing in this forlorn manner. Hopefully his spirits will be lifted this afternoon when we got out to shovel snow. Ugh. I can't believe that they're expecting two more snowstorms by Friday. TinyLF is going to get his plump self stuck in the snow on the way to Toronto this Friday. The goose.

Off we go

I may have figured out how to attach pictures to blogspot posts via my iPhone but who really knows? We'll have to wait and see after this post is done.

So the old man is off to Sri Lanka today and I should totally be on the flight with him at 6. Sadly that is not to be because of the new job. Most of the packing is done now and it's just the last minute freak outs. Ugh. I wish he'd just leave already. Old ppl are so ftl.

Poor Oliver has already spiralled into depression.

First belated obligatory post

So. I've impulsively gone and bought myself an iPhone with my first fat paycheque. Being a corporate whore is fantastic by the way. I can actually afford an insane data plan and still have enough leftover to make shoe purchases amongst a host of other things.

I'm going to attempt to afix a picture to this post but who knows.

Incidentally I've got a job interview tomorrow and am hoping to lean heavily on the built in gps to get me there on time. My stupendous lack of direction both in life and reality will no doubt find a way to circumvent technology.

Ignatieff's been made the leader of the Libs and although I totally love him but his acceptance speech? 'My determined determination' oh Michael!

I saw the constellations reveal themselves one star at a time

I haven't felt like this in a very long time. Actually scrap that, it's been a little over a year since the last time. You know? When I feel like my life has spiraled out of my control causing me to become a complete and utter failure? It's never one of those things that can be anticipated. Doesn't hinge on SAD; autumn is my favourite season (and it's been rather magnanimous too, considering our bleak and wet summer). It just happens.

I've had one of those cliched "landmark" 12 months. (Maybe it's because I'll always be a student at heart but a year is September to September.) At this stage in life, every year that goes by is supposed to be progressing at the same rate and scale as a Homeric epic. Except that my story has no invocation of a muse and far more resembles the epci phail variety of Murphy's Law. There has been nothing artful or poetic in the route I took to get here. Watching Levi Johnstone's drunken yet adroit hand unhook Bristol Palin's bra for the first time probably would've been more poignant and meaningful.

So here I am, brimming with wasted potential waiting for what's supposed to be the next big phase and wondering if it's my fault that the I am where I am. I've often pointed out that with a sub-conscious like mine having a well-dressed-dastardly arch nemesis would sort of be superfluous. Somehow I've managed to become an unrivaled self-saboteur. The most recent and weighty example of this would be the whole drama surrounding my foreign service application.

I was told by my grade nine guidance counsellor that it is not uncommon for people to go through 3 or more career changes before settling in for the long haul. Of course I didn't pay any heed to what she had to say, I already knew what I wanted to do and where I was going to do it. Yes. I do want to slap my grade nine-self right upside the head. At current count I think I'm already briskly moving towards career change number 3 or even a potential 4th. Surprisingly this does not bother me as much as I thought it would and that bothers me.

Since I've recently become one of the first casualties of the financial crisis, scanning all the requisite places for a new job has become a regular fixture. During one of these daily perusals I discovered that I had 7 days to get my shit together for some post-grad federal government positions at CSIS and Foreign Affairs.

I sat on it.

Decided living in Ottawa would blow.

Bounced the idea off of a few friends.

Had them tell me that living in Ottawa would blow.

Then I finally reluctantly recalled the time when an on-campus recruiter had suggested that I join up. A job at CSIS/Foreign Affairs is the "grown-up" thing that remained constant through all the high school angst, university uncertainty and career letdowns. One of the last original things about me.

I was too afraid to apply because the thought of being rejection blew harder than the thought of living in Ottawa.

Again, that too really bothered me. The apathy that I thought was only reserved for fundamental Christians and politics was seeping into my own life a bit faster than I had anticipated. I've felt the shift for a long time but never thought it would engulf me so soon. After every one of these little mini-life-direction-crisis-points are done and finished with it feels like I've said goodbye to another part of me.

My life up to this point has been shaped with the mantra of not having any regrets. I've doggedly tried to adhere as closely to that as possible (which has caused some to call me impulsive). So I forced myself to go through the application process, which I did in a state of automatism. I remember tweeting at the time that, "I can't recognise the person staring back at me."

It all felt so unnatural and I suppose that neatly sums up where I'm at now? My life is no longer being actively lived out by me, instead I've just become a casual observer who flips through when there's nothing else to watch.

*Title shamelessly stolen from a line in Bobcaygeon by The Hip.

Captain Cold Feet

I've had to put my sandals permanently away because sock weather is upon us kids and I can't deal. My head space has been a bit weirder than it normally is and despite having more things than usual to blog about I can barely muster two coherent sentences let alone a fluid post.

Spent the better part of the afternoon staring blankly at my computer screen trying to write a wee 300 word essay on why I'd be a suitable candidate to join the Canadian Foreign Service. Right now I'm slightly more interested in exploring why Cutty Ranks just never seems to gets old.

Dear David Emerson, (Minister of Foreign Affairs and International Trade)

Although I will never, ever vote for your party (in the current election and all subsequent ones to follow) I listen to good dancehall music. This should alleviate any concerns you should have about my levels of competency and ability to be a super secret spy.

Much love to the wife and kids!

Aiya and I beat a hasty retreat during a super horrifically awkward family dinner on Monday night and managed to catch another "Road Talk."


Mace from rasti on Vimeo.

Clearly the dancehall thing has been recurring all week. Also just to be clear, he doesn't wear fugly crocs. Aiya prefers these. Something about the breathable cork yadda comfortable yadda.

Road Talks

Aiya and I are lame. We like Ben Stiller movies and fart jokes. Our parents get annoyed because we giggle like maniacs and it grates on their nerves. Despite sporting a fairly significant age gap we get along really, really well. Of course this wasn't the case when he was in his teens. Things only started improving after he left high school.

So he's moved out of the house and I don't get to see him as often as I did before. It does suck but due to a few personal issues that have cropped up in his life he's around a lot more. Even though the circumstances aren't the best it's really nice to have him around. Our time together usually revolves around getting good Chinese food and watching really juvenile movies. The night we were going to see Tropic Thunder (amazing movie by the way, I'm so glad we saw it with a theatre full of 14 year old boys), he suggested that I turn on the video camera on my phone and let it roll.

My apologies in advance because the clips are all turned over on their sides. I'm a technopeasant :(

**disclaimer: Aiya's a total racialist and I feel the need to point out that the hate mail should be directed towards him.


Untitled from rasti on Vimeo.
Yeah I'm a tool. "Road Trips?" Those are things you TAKE not record on your phone.


Untitled from rasti on Vimeo.
A few things Aiya's waxing on about finding a mate, "mara" is what we call Thathi, the official "euthaniser of relationships" title belongs to someone else but I like to mix it up and I don't really know why Aiya's talking in a Sri Lankan accent either.


Untitled from rasti on Vimeo.
He did end up parking in the handicap spot, limping out and leaving me with those two creepy hindustani dudes as company

Domestication

Having Abi around as my only close Sri Lankan girlfriend means that we can have a heartier laugh over some of the more ridiculous elements of our culture than I could with, say, Alby. Since we're considered to be of "marriageable" age these days we find older, more meddlesome friends of our parents seeing the need to make comments on our varying levels of "domestication." As Abi puts it, they make it sound like we're feral beasts who've only just barely managed to be paper trained or something.

Cleaning is really not my forte, not that I'll never do it, I just don't derive the same pleasure from it as Alby does. If I'm mucking around in the kitchen I'll clean up after myself, but my room? An absolute nightmare, something akin to my locker in high school. However clutter in my living spaces drive me bonkers. I'm sort of like Monica but instead of a closet I've got a bedroom. I've been meaning to purge it out for sometime now and since we had a new cleaning service coming in this afternoon I figured that now would be as good a time as any. One thing I never take into consideration is my ability to get easily distracted. I start finding things, old clothes to try on, books which get skimmed through, sweetly scribbled handwritten notes on pieces of random paper...you know, the things that'll totally make me sit down and take a closer look.

It all started innocently enough. I swear.


I was told to run down to the basement and make sure none of Oliver's toys were on the floor before the cleaning ladies came. That's when I caught sight of one of Lokku Mammah's blue Barefoot shirts in a garbage bag. Aiya had claimed that shirt a few years ago and I was surprised to see it in the give-away pile that he had put together just before he moved. So I ran upstairs and tried to figure out a way that I could wear said shirt without looking like a tool. That was really the beginning of the end. I coupled it with my favourite pin-stripped vest and one of my grandfather's ties.

I love that shade of blue.


While rummaging through my scarf/tie rack looking for Papa's tie I came across this little tie. It belongs to one of my most favourite shirts of all time, which surprise, surprise I'm now way too fat to even poke a finger into. I practically lived in that shirt when I was working in Colombo. The stripes and the white take me right back to all of that. Note the absolute squalor in the background. (And apparently, I was told, my hair looks FAKE in the above? I know right? How dare he etc.)


Guys, remember when I was totally obsessed with the Beastie Boys? Oh. Wait. That's right I still am. I bought this hat right around the time "To The Five Boroughs" came out. It was my homage to them. This was the hat I was wearing when I failed my driver's test for the 3rd time, it was around Thanksgiving too. On a side note, if it was possible to hug Paul's Boutique I think I would. Also, Adam Horowitz? I'm totally single and available (age means nothing). Call me!


One of my favourite people in the world totally misjudged me and gave me a black and beige organza sari from Singapore. I love her to bits but not enough to even attempt rocking it. The sari went to Ammi but I held on to the blouse piece which has alternatively been on my bed and also used as a scarf. It is surprisingly warm and makes me giggle at the stupendous lapse of judgement.


This penchant for scarves of all sizes is like a filthy drug. I'm going to end up a toothless junkie because of it. Last summer in Colombo the bossman and I made a quick dash to Cotton Collection to pick out a shirt for some fuddy duddy meeting he was attending the following day. This little scarf was by the cash register for 100 Rs so he grabbed it for me. On our way out to the parking lot we were promptly shoved into a random saivar kade because the road was closed off for some minister. So we sat there and drank cups of ginger tea, shot the breeze and managed to leave without cholera. If I recall correctly this was the lovely workmate's favourite colour and he ended up designing the cover page of a report to match it. Perhaps that'll be my only real legacy in Sri Lanka.


The TinyLittleFascist used to always make fun of me because I had a tendency to wear something akin to a hijab when scampering around Colombo in tuktuks. The thing is my hair was a dirt magnet and it just made more sense to keep it covered up to avoid all the nastiness that would otherwise get trapped in it. I was immensely amused when I came home last summer and found that someone who had recently visited the Middle East decided it would be a great idea to give my Christian Fundamentalist mother an Islamic head dress. Fun times indeed people! I clearly wear it as a neck scarf and not a head one.


Really? Does the significance of this beret really need to be explained? If I need to spell it out then you don't deserve to know. However I will give you this, I've had it since I was in high school.


The very first vintage sweater I ever bought at Courage My Love. I think I shelled out 10 dollars for this beauty when I was in grade 9. Surprisingly enough it still fits but only because it's snug in all the right places. Trust me though, it could've gone either way. There's potential there for it to have looked horrific.


Most of the things that meant the most to my grandfather when he died went to my uncles and Thathi, which is totally fair. Aiya of course got the best stuff out of all the grandkids. I grabbed on to precious little that I could get hold of, mostly ties and scarves that the others weren't interested in. The above is actually a cummerbund which his bestfriend Carlyle brought back to him after a trip to London sometime in the early 1950s. It's starting to get a bit chillier out these days and I'm head over heels for the pattern on the cummerbund I figured that I'd start wearing it as an ascot in the fall instead of just using it as a cinch. Apparently it works? Both are cheating I know. Shh.


Again, I totally found this while rummaging. This is one of my favourite ties, I picked it up for 25 cents at the open Saturday market along la Rue Mariste in Dakar. Clothes and other items which people from the developed world hoping would go to needy people in Africa oftentimes ended up at the market for sale instead. I bought this tie along with 3 others, they were the first items I ever price-bargained for in Senegal. The rush of being able to haggle successfully in French? If there's any French speakers out there, you know what I'm talking about.

So it's now just after 2:40 AM my room still looks like the closet threw up and I'm left with the choice of just shoving my clothes off of the bed and onto the the other pile of clothes on the floor, sleeping on top of them, or just heading to the guest room to sleep tonight.

Choices.