I'm home from my vacation, the first I've taken with a baby. It's nice to be home, although a little strange too. I was getting used to waking up to people to talk to and things to do. Now I'm alone with Jack again and I have to figure out on my own how to spend the day.
It was wild how fast the days went. It seemed like no time would pass before Jack would need another nap and then his naps didn't feel super short. I think the key to enjoying maternity leave, at least for me, is other people being around during the day. Since I have no friends with babies, I must find strangers with babies to talk to via mom meet-ups. So far I've not made a new friend, only acquaintances. Today I'm planning to go to a farmer's market and see who I can meet.
Last night before bed I again remembered my birth experience. I don't go there most of the time because it hurts me and I cry. So I decided to finally write Patient Relations at the hospital and tell them what happened to me. I felt very mismanaged and I want an apology. I would also feel gratified if I learned it lead to any changes in how they approach women in their care. It was therapeutic. I think it helped me sleep.
Jack spent the first night in his crib. We don't have a proper room for his nursery, per se, but we do have an alcove-like space in the basement near our bedroom. It means we have to walk by him at night and I'm unsure how much noise carries from upstairs. So it's not ideal, but this is Toronto and a lot of first-time parents have their babies stay in the bedroom with them at night for quite some time due to space constraints.
It was alright. With him out of the room it was easier to ignore the grumbles and complaints that didn't need attention and still hear the cries that did. I think this will make it easier to improve his already good sleep, allowing him to self settle even more.
One thing that's really been making me happy lately is waking up in the morning. He gets a bottle around 7:00 and after that I take him into bed with me until about 9:00, 9:30. We snooze the early morning hours away and when I look over to him when we wake he has the hugest smile for me. He always wakes in such a lovely mood, and since he lets me sleep a bit longer I'm also in a great mood, compounded by that delightful smile on his face. It's nothing but sunshine.
On the way home last night we got stuck in traffic and made it home an hour and a half later than planned. I eventually had to feed our crying baby in the car and couldn't burp him. He also pooped, and I couldn't change him. I kept telling him I was sorry. He eventually quieted down about 30 minutes away from the house and then fell asleep about 10 minutes before we arrived home. Full of gas and soiled. This kid is a champ. Of course we had to wake him to change his diaper, and then bathe him to help him back to sleep (In a strange bed) and other than a wee cry he did it.
My baby is so mellow, like literally my dream child.
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Monday, July 22, 2013
Friday, December 28, 2012
Home From Christmas
Christmas has come and gone. We took a whirlwind trip up to our hometown to spend Christmas eve with the Dude's mother, Christmas day with my aunt and uncle and then Boxing Day visiting Buddy B's mom and then home to Toronto before the storm hit.
And we did it all in a pretentious Land Rover. We reserved something sensible, but none were returned on time so we were upgraded for free. The Dude has been on a motorized cloud nine and I just felt embarrassed. I don't care for overt opulence. Also, people on the highway didn't want to let us through. Probably because we looked like young yuppie jerks in that thing. Though the seat warmers were nice.
It was nice to see everybody. Everyone was interested in how I was doing and asked all the usual baby-related questions and fussed over my bump. Obviously it got touched. Some asked, some didn't think to and gave a quick touch, and a few tried to snake in there against my comfort zone and crowd me with rubbing. The first two I allowed with a smile. The latter I fought off, once with a dinner plate.
It was all in good fun until my dad, with whom I have a struggling and distant relationship, was one of those who attempted the crowd n' rub, which really creeps me out. I blocked him and he told me to "go away" while still trying to rub me. I really, really find that unpalatable. Even with permission, I prefer people to allow me to guide their hands to where I'm comfortable being touched. Being indiscriminately rubbed down is nauseating.
Whereas others laughed when I blocked their invasive attempts and knocked it off, my dad took it poorly. He has a habit of trying to force intimacy out of me in front of people for show, like those awful men who propose marriage at stadiums hoping the social pressure will garner an acceptance. Thing is, I don't care. I value boundaries. After I shook off his forceful handling a few times, he stormed off and that was that. It created an awkward situation. But I make no apologies, not when I fancy myself able to select if I'm touched in personal areas of my body and by who and when.
Otherwise the trip was a success. We ate well, received some nice things and had quality time with our families. We fielded a lot of questions about when we were going to bring the baby back up, say, for Easter. And of course there's no way we're doing that.
I'm due in mid March, Easter is March 31. The idea of travelling one to two weeks after giving birth is my idea of Hell. I'll be waking up every few hours to nurse, I'll need to sleep when the baby sleeps, and I really don't see how travel will be beneficial at that point. And of course I may go overdue, which would means I could be pregnant within days of Easter, making travel insane. Plus I'll be on mat leave so we wouldn't be able to afford a rental car so soon after taking a big pay cut. And that's too early to expose a newborn to a swarm of people. And there's no way to go to our hometown without stopping at three separate households unless we want to cause offense.
I can appreciate that we're loved and people want to visit with our baby, but I think this is one of those areas where it would be best to not bother trying to accomodate others. I'm pretty sure we won't be setting foot outside Toronto until summertime. Loved ones who can't wait are free to visit. We don't have a lot of family around these parts, so I'd be happy to have people come over.
God, I can't believe 2012 is nearly over. 2013 is going to be unlike anything I've ever experienced.
And we did it all in a pretentious Land Rover. We reserved something sensible, but none were returned on time so we were upgraded for free. The Dude has been on a motorized cloud nine and I just felt embarrassed. I don't care for overt opulence. Also, people on the highway didn't want to let us through. Probably because we looked like young yuppie jerks in that thing. Though the seat warmers were nice.
It was nice to see everybody. Everyone was interested in how I was doing and asked all the usual baby-related questions and fussed over my bump. Obviously it got touched. Some asked, some didn't think to and gave a quick touch, and a few tried to snake in there against my comfort zone and crowd me with rubbing. The first two I allowed with a smile. The latter I fought off, once with a dinner plate.
It was all in good fun until my dad, with whom I have a struggling and distant relationship, was one of those who attempted the crowd n' rub, which really creeps me out. I blocked him and he told me to "go away" while still trying to rub me. I really, really find that unpalatable. Even with permission, I prefer people to allow me to guide their hands to where I'm comfortable being touched. Being indiscriminately rubbed down is nauseating.
Whereas others laughed when I blocked their invasive attempts and knocked it off, my dad took it poorly. He has a habit of trying to force intimacy out of me in front of people for show, like those awful men who propose marriage at stadiums hoping the social pressure will garner an acceptance. Thing is, I don't care. I value boundaries. After I shook off his forceful handling a few times, he stormed off and that was that. It created an awkward situation. But I make no apologies, not when I fancy myself able to select if I'm touched in personal areas of my body and by who and when.
Otherwise the trip was a success. We ate well, received some nice things and had quality time with our families. We fielded a lot of questions about when we were going to bring the baby back up, say, for Easter. And of course there's no way we're doing that.
I'm due in mid March, Easter is March 31. The idea of travelling one to two weeks after giving birth is my idea of Hell. I'll be waking up every few hours to nurse, I'll need to sleep when the baby sleeps, and I really don't see how travel will be beneficial at that point. And of course I may go overdue, which would means I could be pregnant within days of Easter, making travel insane. Plus I'll be on mat leave so we wouldn't be able to afford a rental car so soon after taking a big pay cut. And that's too early to expose a newborn to a swarm of people. And there's no way to go to our hometown without stopping at three separate households unless we want to cause offense.
I can appreciate that we're loved and people want to visit with our baby, but I think this is one of those areas where it would be best to not bother trying to accomodate others. I'm pretty sure we won't be setting foot outside Toronto until summertime. Loved ones who can't wait are free to visit. We don't have a lot of family around these parts, so I'd be happy to have people come over.
God, I can't believe 2012 is nearly over. 2013 is going to be unlike anything I've ever experienced.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Home
I'm back from my trip to see my family in Vancouver. And just like that, it's done. I can't believe I'm home. When I'm with them, it's like old times. A large part of the visit is always revisiting the past. We experienced so much joy together and went through so much sadness. And I have a deep emotional need to discuss these things and remember and reminisce, and only with them can I truly do that. With everyone else, I'm telling stories.
It was hard to say goodbye. With my cousins, they saw me off earlier, but with my aunt it was at the airport and the finality hung in the air. I was going and I didn't know when I was coming back. My aunt looked sad and I lingered at the security gate and waved. "It's not forever," I said. But it kind of felt like it might be.
My aunt is sick. And I think she's likely to get sicker still if she doesn't retire and care for herself. But she said she's lonely. Work offers companionship, contact with other people. All her old friends who love her are back here in Ontario. I can see how this problem would contribute to her poor health.
My cousin is planning on parenthood in the very near future and I think having a grandchild would transform my aunt's life for the better. The social life at work wouldn't be equal to the joy of being a grandmother. She's a big believer in people changing. Maybe that would be the change of life that would get her to slow down and get better. I don't want to consider life without her. She's so far away, but I would feel the loss terribly.
My cousin has a lovely co-op apartment that she's recently moved into. It's gorgeous, well-maintained, . The co-ops in this city are old, crumbing or in poor areas. The few charming ones have closed wait lists. There is a real rental crisis going on in this place. They could take lessons from the Vancouver area. Not in the homebuying market, no, but with rentals at least there seem to be good options.
My other cousin was doing well. He's such a charming and anxious sort of person. It's hard for anxiety to be sweet and pleasing, but he manages it with a great sense of humour. Sensitive soul, he is. His sister is the practical one, the planner, reliable and always thinking forward. I like the idea of us both being pregnant at the same time, which is very likely to happen.
I felt the baby move for the first time while in Victoria. We spent the weekend there touring around, taking it easy and while resting in the hotel room, there it was. Boop. Boop. And I knew what it was. It was the first non-painful, rather pleasant sensation of pregnancy I've had thus far. It was nicer than the ultrasound, which flared up my heartburn and forced me to hold back bile from escaping. It was sweet.
My abdomen has grown and I'm obviously and noticeably pregnant at only 16 weeks. I really want to enjoy this. I do. I've quit trying, but I'm still holding out hope it'll start to feel positive soon. It kind of reminds me of one giant IBS attack. Maybe if it stopped feeling like that, I'd enjoy myself more.
It was hard to say goodbye. With my cousins, they saw me off earlier, but with my aunt it was at the airport and the finality hung in the air. I was going and I didn't know when I was coming back. My aunt looked sad and I lingered at the security gate and waved. "It's not forever," I said. But it kind of felt like it might be.
My aunt is sick. And I think she's likely to get sicker still if she doesn't retire and care for herself. But she said she's lonely. Work offers companionship, contact with other people. All her old friends who love her are back here in Ontario. I can see how this problem would contribute to her poor health.
My cousin is planning on parenthood in the very near future and I think having a grandchild would transform my aunt's life for the better. The social life at work wouldn't be equal to the joy of being a grandmother. She's a big believer in people changing. Maybe that would be the change of life that would get her to slow down and get better. I don't want to consider life without her. She's so far away, but I would feel the loss terribly.
My cousin has a lovely co-op apartment that she's recently moved into. It's gorgeous, well-maintained, . The co-ops in this city are old, crumbing or in poor areas. The few charming ones have closed wait lists. There is a real rental crisis going on in this place. They could take lessons from the Vancouver area. Not in the homebuying market, no, but with rentals at least there seem to be good options.
My other cousin was doing well. He's such a charming and anxious sort of person. It's hard for anxiety to be sweet and pleasing, but he manages it with a great sense of humour. Sensitive soul, he is. His sister is the practical one, the planner, reliable and always thinking forward. I like the idea of us both being pregnant at the same time, which is very likely to happen.
I felt the baby move for the first time while in Victoria. We spent the weekend there touring around, taking it easy and while resting in the hotel room, there it was. Boop. Boop. And I knew what it was. It was the first non-painful, rather pleasant sensation of pregnancy I've had thus far. It was nicer than the ultrasound, which flared up my heartburn and forced me to hold back bile from escaping. It was sweet.
My abdomen has grown and I'm obviously and noticeably pregnant at only 16 weeks. I really want to enjoy this. I do. I've quit trying, but I'm still holding out hope it'll start to feel positive soon. It kind of reminds me of one giant IBS attack. Maybe if it stopped feeling like that, I'd enjoy myself more.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Summer Plans
A couple nights ago the Dude and I went to the Rosewater for our Groupon and had a lovely five-course meal. Oh, to be able to eat like that all the time. Though it'd probably be a curse because very soon most food wouldn't meet your standards. But once a month would be a heavenly treat.
We got the chef's choice: asparagus soup with a seared scallop, tuna tartar, grilled salmon and shrimp with risotto, strip loin steak and garlic mashed potatoes, and a berry/chocolate concoction. Nom nom nom...
I have been thinking a lot about what I'd like this summer to be, what I want to do. It's my last summer in my 20s and next year we'll likely be planning for a family. This summer must count. And really, if I don't set goals for these months I tend to let them fly by with nothing special to show for it, no memories worth keeping.
So!
1. Go to Canada's Wonderland at least once.
2. Try to make at least two trips to my hometown, one of which involving taking friends.
3. Go strawberry picking and can strawberry jam.
4. Make homemade ice cream at least once.
5. See two plays.
6. Finish writing my book (Though I expect editing it will take longer. I'm currently on chapter 18)
7. Have $2,000 saved up from June through September.
8. Host two dinner parties.
Simple, achievable and fun.
Now, the savings specifically relates to the fact the Dude and I want to see Paris. We've never been and we intend to see it in February on the week of his 32nd birthday and Valentine's day, just like our honeymoon. It's cheaper that time of year, with less tourists, and the weather is on average warmer than Ontario so I am sure we can hack it. The $2,000 will cover our airfare, giving me several more months to save accommodations/food/museums/ground travel costs. We plan to rent an apartment for the week, which is also cheaper than a hotel.
The Dude wanted to see Ireland as much as he wanted to see Paris, but I've already been and there's something romantic and exciting about exploring Paris together for the first time. It can also be somewhat of a buzz kill (Annoying) when your travel partner is reliving the previous trip they took without you ("Last time I was here..." "Oh, on my trip I liked to...") And I don't think people can help doing that, so I think I need more distance from Ireland as I saw it in 2007 and we have a whole life to live and we can visit it down the road.
We also wanted Italy, but it costs an arm and a leg. We're going to wait till we're older and have enough money to enjoy it properly. I want to go to Iceland, but the Dude is less keen on it. Ah, compromise. But really, who can be upset about Paris?
And it'll be a last hurrah of sorts before family plans get underway and all future savings will be diverted to future maternity leave and daycare costs. Crazy thinking this far ahead. The past 10 years I've been thinking in terms of the coming months or up to a year. Now I'm thinking ahead five years. Hell, I started saving for retirement several years ago so in an abstract way I started thinking way into the future then, I guess.
A part of me sometimes looks at 21-year-olds and feels envy for all the choices they haven't made yet and still get to sort out, all the freedom from responsibility, all the selfishness they're entitled to act on. But then I think about how it feels to be 21 and those thoughts quickly disappear. Being 29 feels amazing.
We got the chef's choice: asparagus soup with a seared scallop, tuna tartar, grilled salmon and shrimp with risotto, strip loin steak and garlic mashed potatoes, and a berry/chocolate concoction. Nom nom nom...
I have been thinking a lot about what I'd like this summer to be, what I want to do. It's my last summer in my 20s and next year we'll likely be planning for a family. This summer must count. And really, if I don't set goals for these months I tend to let them fly by with nothing special to show for it, no memories worth keeping.
So!
1. Go to Canada's Wonderland at least once.
2. Try to make at least two trips to my hometown, one of which involving taking friends.
3. Go strawberry picking and can strawberry jam.
4. Make homemade ice cream at least once.
5. See two plays.
6. Finish writing my book (Though I expect editing it will take longer. I'm currently on chapter 18)
7. Have $2,000 saved up from June through September.
8. Host two dinner parties.
Simple, achievable and fun.
Now, the savings specifically relates to the fact the Dude and I want to see Paris. We've never been and we intend to see it in February on the week of his 32nd birthday and Valentine's day, just like our honeymoon. It's cheaper that time of year, with less tourists, and the weather is on average warmer than Ontario so I am sure we can hack it. The $2,000 will cover our airfare, giving me several more months to save accommodations/food/museums/ground travel costs. We plan to rent an apartment for the week, which is also cheaper than a hotel.
The Dude wanted to see Ireland as much as he wanted to see Paris, but I've already been and there's something romantic and exciting about exploring Paris together for the first time. It can also be somewhat of a buzz kill (Annoying) when your travel partner is reliving the previous trip they took without you ("Last time I was here..." "Oh, on my trip I liked to...") And I don't think people can help doing that, so I think I need more distance from Ireland as I saw it in 2007 and we have a whole life to live and we can visit it down the road.
We also wanted Italy, but it costs an arm and a leg. We're going to wait till we're older and have enough money to enjoy it properly. I want to go to Iceland, but the Dude is less keen on it. Ah, compromise. But really, who can be upset about Paris?
And it'll be a last hurrah of sorts before family plans get underway and all future savings will be diverted to future maternity leave and daycare costs. Crazy thinking this far ahead. The past 10 years I've been thinking in terms of the coming months or up to a year. Now I'm thinking ahead five years. Hell, I started saving for retirement several years ago so in an abstract way I started thinking way into the future then, I guess.
A part of me sometimes looks at 21-year-olds and feels envy for all the choices they haven't made yet and still get to sort out, all the freedom from responsibility, all the selfishness they're entitled to act on. But then I think about how it feels to be 21 and those thoughts quickly disappear. Being 29 feels amazing.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Le Honeymoon
Relaxing at Xel-Ha.
What a lovely and relaxing holiday. Great wedding, wonderful honeymoon. Everything's bitchin'. And I'm sunburnt. That part ain't so grand, but otherwise I'm feeling spiffy.
I got burnt the last day I was there. I'm not sure how. I had sunscreen on and I spent most of the time in the shade. But I got crisped all up my thighs and around my armpits. The backs of my hands are also very red. When I got home I made a matcha tea bath and soaked, hoping it would take my burn down. It did cool my skin, which was nice.
But let me describe the week. Every day was something special and fun. Sunday we had a special honeymooners' dinner after spending the day relaxing by the pool.
Monday we went to Tulum and swam in the warm teal waters by the ruins. That was wicked. However, I think I still have sand in my hair. Afterwards we ate some good Mexican food at a nearby restaurant and took the Collectivo home.
Tuesday and Wednesday we went to the spa. We had $1,500 resort credits and spent them all at the resort spa. Massages, facials, wraps, etc. And it was a huge spa experience. Usually with the day spas I go to, you go to the spa, get your service and go home. At this place you can show up an hour early and do the hydrotherapy.
You go in the sauna, then a cool spray in the shower. Then the steam room, cool spray in the shower. Then the hottest hot tub. Then a walk through the cool mineral water. Then the other somewhat cooler hot tub. Then the mineral foot soak.
And after all that, you go in for your service. You leave feeling like a new person.
Thursday we went to Xel-Ha. It's a natural aquarium-type place. You can cliff dive, swim in cenotes, snorkel, zip line and so on. You can eat and drink all day. It's gorgeous and immaculately clean. There were hammocks and beach chairs all over, parrots and lizards, grottos and inlets. There were many walking trails and a bike path. You could ride the river down the park, through this beautiful canopy of vines and tree branches.
I attempted to do the cliff jump. It was 4 metres high and I couldn't do it. I was gung ho, thinking, oh yeah, I got this. See, I thought it'd be like the 3-metre diving board at the pool. But it wasn't. I physically tried to jump, my heart was in it, my brain said yes. My body said no. I felt my body restrain itself against my decision.
So weird. But I think I've reached a point in my life where my ability to take these sorts of risks has passed. Self-preservation has kicked in and leaping from cliffs is not doable. I've never been the person who did extreme things and I'm thinking starting in your 30th year is not really going to work out.
I realized also that bungee jumping and sky diving, thoughts I'd entertained, were definitely now not going to ever happen. If you can't jump 4-metres into water, water that is deemed deep enough and marked for your safety, then anything higher is not gonna fly. Oh well. There's always rollercoasters.
Our last day was Friday. It was the Dude's birthday and he did a spa treatment, and that's when I got burnt, while lounging by the pool, listening to A Game Of Thrones on my iPod. We went out to dinner, had the Mayan coffee,which was a performance in the making of it, and sadly packed our bags. We were being picked up at 7:05 the next morning.
The trip home was a real bummer, not just because we were leaving, but because the transportation was 40 minutes late and when we got there our plane was delayed by two hours.
And now we're home, relaxed and calm. I'm feeling ready to re-tackle my work with renewed energy, the Dude is readying himself for a busy month and we're really mellowed out.
I kept up my no shampoo commitment as well. It was hard, with the sands of Tulum haunting my scalp, but I managed.
And now back to the real world.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Mexico awaits
I started travelling when I turned 21. Nothing too wild, but it was something I made a priority. Some people like to stay on top of the latest gadgets and electronics, others like to buy clothes or shoes, some like to have an active night life, and there are those that like to pour money into their home. I like to go places.
When I was 21 I left the country for the first time and spent four days in New York City. A few months later I went to Cuba. Then after my internship and graduation I planned a three-week backpacking trip to the UK. The next year I went through the Maritimes with a guy who was my boyfriend at the time. Later on we went to the Dominican Republic.
I started visiting my family in Vancouver every Easter. I've visited friends in California twice. I took a tour through Ireland in 2007. My family started asking me, "So where are you going this year?" I had plans to go to Italy, but life kept getting in the way. It's still on my to-do list, but it's more of a distant plan.
Actually, it'd be lovely to go to Italy on our honeymoon. But I don't think we'll be doing that. We're paying for our wedding, and then we'll be saving for a new home. This trip in many ways is the trip for us.
It's one of those getting-older priority-change deals. Travelling makes me happy and excited, yes. But my life isn't about where I'll go next. I've planted my roots. My life is about my day-to-day happiness: my relationship, my friends, my creative fulfillment, and my home. So I'm no longer investing much into seeing new places. That would get in the way of meeting my milestones and reaching my goals. I'm not a kid anymore. I guess I don't feel like one either because I'm not sad over this change.
Having said that, though, I'm going to enjoy this Mexico trip for all it's worth.
When I was 21 I left the country for the first time and spent four days in New York City. A few months later I went to Cuba. Then after my internship and graduation I planned a three-week backpacking trip to the UK. The next year I went through the Maritimes with a guy who was my boyfriend at the time. Later on we went to the Dominican Republic.
I started visiting my family in Vancouver every Easter. I've visited friends in California twice. I took a tour through Ireland in 2007. My family started asking me, "So where are you going this year?" I had plans to go to Italy, but life kept getting in the way. It's still on my to-do list, but it's more of a distant plan.
Actually, it'd be lovely to go to Italy on our honeymoon. But I don't think we'll be doing that. We're paying for our wedding, and then we'll be saving for a new home. This trip in many ways is the trip for us.
It's one of those getting-older priority-change deals. Travelling makes me happy and excited, yes. But my life isn't about where I'll go next. I've planted my roots. My life is about my day-to-day happiness: my relationship, my friends, my creative fulfillment, and my home. So I'm no longer investing much into seeing new places. That would get in the way of meeting my milestones and reaching my goals. I'm not a kid anymore. I guess I don't feel like one either because I'm not sad over this change.
Having said that, though, I'm going to enjoy this Mexico trip for all it's worth.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Up In The Air
I wrote this in the air yesterday. Only now am I rested enough to get online and post it.
I'm writing this from aboard the plane. I'm on my way home. But I'm only on the first flight to Chicago. It's a long way yet. I haven't eaten. The clock says it's 7:30 pm. That hardly seems possible. The whole weekend hardly seems possible.
I met my friends. And I loved them all as well as I did on the boards. And those who weren't from the boards or knew what the boards even were couldn't understand how we all managed to come together in real life. It's was an exercise in patience trying to make them understand and even so it was met with little success. It's just another thing we share: No one in our lives really gets it.
As for chronicling the wedding, I don't even know where to start. Even starting at the beginning seems impossible. There's too much to cover. But I'll try, and I'll do it in point form. And I'll use the screen handles instead of their real names for the sake of privacy.
* When I arrived at the airport, I met up with Lyn and folkimp. Folkimp drove us to our hotel and we drank wine and got to know each other better. We then met up with Anon and JT (the bride and groom) and the wedding party and went out drinking. Lyn and I woke up in hell the next morning and forced our asses out of bed to get hamburgers.
* Folk got into a car accident en route to our hotel the day of the wedding. She was taken to the ER with a concussion. She missed the wedding and we missed her. It was a total bummer that she couldn't make it. It was the worst text message to receive, the first chunk being along the lines of, "Hey, got into a car accident…" But she's alright.
* Jillraye (from the boards) came to our hotel with champagne and picked us up. It was my first time meeting her and she was just like I thought she would be.
* At the wedding we sat at the back and giggled and gossiped. Anon came down the aisle looking like a renaissance queen. The pastor started the service, a very old school biblical reading about a wife's servitude to her husband. The three of us in the back started laughing because we thought he was kidding. Turns out he wasn't and we felt sheepish.
* After the wedding we met up with pinstripe (from the boards) and her boyfriend, who was lovely, and incidentally wearing a pinstripe suit. We all sat at the same table and my camera died, after an afternoon of taking lacklustre pictures. I pretty much need a new camera. I also met OCDB (from the boards) and his wife.
* I caught the bouquet. It's actually the third or fourth bouquet I've caught in my life. I'm not sure what that means. I was actually well at the back behind everyone, figuring it wouldn't come my way there. Then it did. So I pranced over and claimed it. Then of course everyone wanted to know when the Dude and I were getting married, and for my information, they wanted to come for board reunion II a la Canada.
* At the back of the venue, mike_a (from the boards) got into a wrestling match with another guest. The cops showed up and… watched. Mike lost. I'd never seen a wrestling match at a wedding before, and it certainly did enhance the evening.
* JT held an after party at his place and we stayed till 2:00 a.m. A guest kept asking me to sing O Canada in French. I did once, and was then treated to a loud but highly enthusiastic rendition of the Star Spangled Banner. The cops showed up there too to ask that we either have less fun outside or more fun inside. A gentleman friend of Jill's showed up, one she had mentioned on the boards, who was good enough to drive us back to the hotel.
Lyn's dad dropped me off at the airport today. It was ridiculously easy compared to Friday and I had excess time to kill.
I've had good times at weddings before, but this was really special to me. Everyone was fun, my long-time friends were there, the whole weekend felt like quality time. And the cake was delicious.
I feel like I've tumbled around in a cement mixer. All the drinking, the sporadic eating, the time changes and delayed sleep have kicked my arse. But I'd do it all again. I'd do it all again feeling as tired and rundown as I do now. The only thing I'm sad about it that it's over, and it's hard to say if such a gathering of us all will ever happen again, or moreover on such a large scale. I hope so.
And the captain is telling us our flight is coming to a close shortly. The first leg of my trip home is nearly complete. I can't wait to see the Dude. I think the only thing that would have made it better would have been to introduce him to them all.
I'm writing this from aboard the plane. I'm on my way home. But I'm only on the first flight to Chicago. It's a long way yet. I haven't eaten. The clock says it's 7:30 pm. That hardly seems possible. The whole weekend hardly seems possible.
I met my friends. And I loved them all as well as I did on the boards. And those who weren't from the boards or knew what the boards even were couldn't understand how we all managed to come together in real life. It's was an exercise in patience trying to make them understand and even so it was met with little success. It's just another thing we share: No one in our lives really gets it.
As for chronicling the wedding, I don't even know where to start. Even starting at the beginning seems impossible. There's too much to cover. But I'll try, and I'll do it in point form. And I'll use the screen handles instead of their real names for the sake of privacy.
* When I arrived at the airport, I met up with Lyn and folkimp. Folkimp drove us to our hotel and we drank wine and got to know each other better. We then met up with Anon and JT (the bride and groom) and the wedding party and went out drinking. Lyn and I woke up in hell the next morning and forced our asses out of bed to get hamburgers.
* Folk got into a car accident en route to our hotel the day of the wedding. She was taken to the ER with a concussion. She missed the wedding and we missed her. It was a total bummer that she couldn't make it. It was the worst text message to receive, the first chunk being along the lines of, "Hey, got into a car accident…" But she's alright.
* Jillraye (from the boards) came to our hotel with champagne and picked us up. It was my first time meeting her and she was just like I thought she would be.
* At the wedding we sat at the back and giggled and gossiped. Anon came down the aisle looking like a renaissance queen. The pastor started the service, a very old school biblical reading about a wife's servitude to her husband. The three of us in the back started laughing because we thought he was kidding. Turns out he wasn't and we felt sheepish.
* After the wedding we met up with pinstripe (from the boards) and her boyfriend, who was lovely, and incidentally wearing a pinstripe suit. We all sat at the same table and my camera died, after an afternoon of taking lacklustre pictures. I pretty much need a new camera. I also met OCDB (from the boards) and his wife.
* I caught the bouquet. It's actually the third or fourth bouquet I've caught in my life. I'm not sure what that means. I was actually well at the back behind everyone, figuring it wouldn't come my way there. Then it did. So I pranced over and claimed it. Then of course everyone wanted to know when the Dude and I were getting married, and for my information, they wanted to come for board reunion II a la Canada.
* At the back of the venue, mike_a (from the boards) got into a wrestling match with another guest. The cops showed up and… watched. Mike lost. I'd never seen a wrestling match at a wedding before, and it certainly did enhance the evening.
* JT held an after party at his place and we stayed till 2:00 a.m. A guest kept asking me to sing O Canada in French. I did once, and was then treated to a loud but highly enthusiastic rendition of the Star Spangled Banner. The cops showed up there too to ask that we either have less fun outside or more fun inside. A gentleman friend of Jill's showed up, one she had mentioned on the boards, who was good enough to drive us back to the hotel.
Lyn's dad dropped me off at the airport today. It was ridiculously easy compared to Friday and I had excess time to kill.
I've had good times at weddings before, but this was really special to me. Everyone was fun, my long-time friends were there, the whole weekend felt like quality time. And the cake was delicious.
I feel like I've tumbled around in a cement mixer. All the drinking, the sporadic eating, the time changes and delayed sleep have kicked my arse. But I'd do it all again. I'd do it all again feeling as tired and rundown as I do now. The only thing I'm sad about it that it's over, and it's hard to say if such a gathering of us all will ever happen again, or moreover on such a large scale. I hope so.
And the captain is telling us our flight is coming to a close shortly. The first leg of my trip home is nearly complete. I can't wait to see the Dude. I think the only thing that would have made it better would have been to introduce him to them all.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Pre-wedding
I'm in California and I'm hung over. And the wedding is today. My trusty board friend and I overdid it a little last night, and because we're not 22 years old anymore, we feel like we've been hit by trucks. She's napping, I'm drinking Gatorade.
Man, hangovers used to be funny, or at least a source of pride that you went out and partied last night, wooo! You know? Now they just make you feel like a jackass. The wedding's at 6:00; it's 1:30. Less than five hours to pull our asses in gear.
But let me talk about the airport, because it was a really special experience for me.
I arrived at 3:15, with my flight leaving at 5:50. I get to the kiosk to plug in my information so I can avoid the devastatingly long line to check in. I pull out the two sheets of paper I had printed out with all my information, only... it had none of my information. I, in my wisdom, had put my complete faith in technology and had grabbed the pages from the printer without bother to check them, where I would have noticed that the only thing that came out was the fine print, and nothing of importance.
So I took the long route, entering my name, my credit card, my passport, my destination, and eventually the kiosk asked me a question that stumped me. But not before revealing to me that my boarding pass had me listed with an error in my name. Basically, rather than Jendra Dammit Berri, it said Jendradammit Berri. Don't people get barred from entering planes with that sort of thing wrong?
So without my flight number, booking reference or, you know, anything, I meekly got in the bitterly long line and fretted. And when it came my turn I could only apologize for being such a nuisance while a woman asked me question after question that I couldn't answer, or answer in full. But I got my pass, and Jendradammit was ready for customs.
I was wrong to feel a little soul-crushed by the first line. The customs line was very exciting, in a holy-shit-I'm-going-to-have-to-set-up-camp-and-live-here-because-the-line-is-so-long kind of way. Plus the guy in front of me started singing indiscernible songs, which always adds a sense of facepalm to any undesirable situation.
But eventually the line did end and we were all then ushered into a second long line. Then after customs, security, which is always fun. You get to take off your shoes and partially undress and then scramble afterwards so you don't stall anyone else.
I arrived at my gate. And then after 20 minutes an announcement was made that my flight was leaving on the other end of the terminal at a different gate.
By the time I landed at 8:00 Pacific time (11:00 in my head), I was a tad wired. I'd consumed only caffeinated drinks and a slice of banana bread. I met up with my board friends and we drank wine. Then we went out with the bride and groom and drank shots.
Hence the hangover. We've been having fun. We've been slowly dying. There's more to come. Frig, the wedding hasn't even happened yet.
Man, hangovers used to be funny, or at least a source of pride that you went out and partied last night, wooo! You know? Now they just make you feel like a jackass. The wedding's at 6:00; it's 1:30. Less than five hours to pull our asses in gear.
But let me talk about the airport, because it was a really special experience for me.
I arrived at 3:15, with my flight leaving at 5:50. I get to the kiosk to plug in my information so I can avoid the devastatingly long line to check in. I pull out the two sheets of paper I had printed out with all my information, only... it had none of my information. I, in my wisdom, had put my complete faith in technology and had grabbed the pages from the printer without bother to check them, where I would have noticed that the only thing that came out was the fine print, and nothing of importance.
So I took the long route, entering my name, my credit card, my passport, my destination, and eventually the kiosk asked me a question that stumped me. But not before revealing to me that my boarding pass had me listed with an error in my name. Basically, rather than Jendra Dammit Berri, it said Jendradammit Berri. Don't people get barred from entering planes with that sort of thing wrong?
So without my flight number, booking reference or, you know, anything, I meekly got in the bitterly long line and fretted. And when it came my turn I could only apologize for being such a nuisance while a woman asked me question after question that I couldn't answer, or answer in full. But I got my pass, and Jendradammit was ready for customs.
I was wrong to feel a little soul-crushed by the first line. The customs line was very exciting, in a holy-shit-I'm-going-to-have-to-set-up-camp-and-live-here-because-the-line-is-so-long kind of way. Plus the guy in front of me started singing indiscernible songs, which always adds a sense of facepalm to any undesirable situation.
But eventually the line did end and we were all then ushered into a second long line. Then after customs, security, which is always fun. You get to take off your shoes and partially undress and then scramble afterwards so you don't stall anyone else.
I arrived at my gate. And then after 20 minutes an announcement was made that my flight was leaving on the other end of the terminal at a different gate.
By the time I landed at 8:00 Pacific time (11:00 in my head), I was a tad wired. I'd consumed only caffeinated drinks and a slice of banana bread. I met up with my board friends and we drank wine. Then we went out with the bride and groom and drank shots.
Hence the hangover. We've been having fun. We've been slowly dying. There's more to come. Frig, the wedding hasn't even happened yet.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Les Internets
I booked all my travel stuff. I'm a goin' to California for a wedding in a month and a half! Wooo-ee! And due to saving up 90,000 Visa travel points equalling $450, I got a return plane ticket for $115. And then I booked a hotel room for $89 a night, after tax totalling $195 US. I can't believe how affordable this is.
Now, I've been on a message board for about three and a half years. I've been on less and less as fewer of the friends I've made are frequenting it and more are on Facebook. But in the earlier years, it was a lifeline for me. We all shared everything and got to know each other on this amazing personal level, and we argued with each other full force and then laughed about it later. Such is the power of the Internet.
I've met four of these friends in person, one is a Canadian in a neighbouring city, whom I get to see every few months. She's fantastic. Another is a professor in California who I've seen twice along with my fellow Canadian boarder on his academic visits to the city. Another is a good friend I got to meet in California (lots of Californians on this board) September '08 and we got on great and I wished we lived closer. And the last, who I actually met first when he was on a business trip he'd taken to Toronto, is getting married to a woman he met on the boards, and that's whose wedding I'm going to. I'm looking forward to meeting her in person too.
And as though it wasn't awesome enough to see these two get married (the groom is a really great guy and I've heard wonderful stuff about the bride from those who know her in real life), and being able to see my good friend again, I'll also get to meet more people from the boards.
I was 23 when I started meeting all these people. I'm in many ways a different person than I was, in the sort of way people are after a few years of personal growth. This board was in many ways a part of that growth. As I was adjusting to a new life and new apartment, new single status, new and rediscovered friends, I was connecting with these people. They know nearly all my personal secrets and feelings. And being in their company in real life has been a very calming experience because of that.
Most people in my life who know about the boards don't really get it. And I couldn't expect them to, really. They chuckle and shake their heads, possibly thinking I'm a little nuts. Maybe I am and maybe we are. But come May, we can all be nuts together as we celebrate a couple that the boards brought together. Like it or hate it, the Internet changes people's lives.
Now, I've been on a message board for about three and a half years. I've been on less and less as fewer of the friends I've made are frequenting it and more are on Facebook. But in the earlier years, it was a lifeline for me. We all shared everything and got to know each other on this amazing personal level, and we argued with each other full force and then laughed about it later. Such is the power of the Internet.
I've met four of these friends in person, one is a Canadian in a neighbouring city, whom I get to see every few months. She's fantastic. Another is a professor in California who I've seen twice along with my fellow Canadian boarder on his academic visits to the city. Another is a good friend I got to meet in California (lots of Californians on this board) September '08 and we got on great and I wished we lived closer. And the last, who I actually met first when he was on a business trip he'd taken to Toronto, is getting married to a woman he met on the boards, and that's whose wedding I'm going to. I'm looking forward to meeting her in person too.
And as though it wasn't awesome enough to see these two get married (the groom is a really great guy and I've heard wonderful stuff about the bride from those who know her in real life), and being able to see my good friend again, I'll also get to meet more people from the boards.
I was 23 when I started meeting all these people. I'm in many ways a different person than I was, in the sort of way people are after a few years of personal growth. This board was in many ways a part of that growth. As I was adjusting to a new life and new apartment, new single status, new and rediscovered friends, I was connecting with these people. They know nearly all my personal secrets and feelings. And being in their company in real life has been a very calming experience because of that.
Most people in my life who know about the boards don't really get it. And I couldn't expect them to, really. They chuckle and shake their heads, possibly thinking I'm a little nuts. Maybe I am and maybe we are. But come May, we can all be nuts together as we celebrate a couple that the boards brought together. Like it or hate it, the Internet changes people's lives.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Here I go
My plans today revolve almost entirely around making travel plans. I've done this before, plenty of times. And yet every single time I do I feel nervous and unsure of myself. I've been to Cuba and the Dominican, which were easy because I didn't do it alone at all, and all-inclusive resorts are no-muss, no-fuss.
I've been to Ireland, which was through Contiki a few year ago. Awesome time, by the way. You buy the tour package, a plane ticket and then figure out a way from the airport to the hotel you need to be at. Then you're done.
I've been to San Francisco to meet up with a good friend who lives in California. That entailed buying a plane ticket and finding a hotel and getting there from the airport.
And then my ultimate trip was the three-week backpack through the UK when I was 21. This was a work of art, minus the fact I left my wallet at home, whoops. That's an entirely different story.
I had to book the flight, buy a rail pass online, research and reserve hostels and bed and breakfasts, research the directions I'd need to get from the train stations to my accommodations, and look into all the things I'd want to do beforehand so I wouldn't miss anything after the fact. I spent three weeks on this. I was also fresh out of college and an internship and unemployed, so I had nothing else more pressing to do.
And travelling alone for weeks in a foreign country when you're a single woman means you can't just wing it either. Your safety could be dramatically compromised. It's either plan, plan, plan or face the prospect of having to wander alone late at night with no one you know aware of where you are, looking for a place you can afford to stay, bogged down by all your travel gear.
And even with that behind me, something as simple as booking a flight and hotel for a two night stay in California for a wedding makes me go, "Eeeeeeek!" Not sure why. I'm excited and happy about going.
I remember when I was in college and I was taking the Go Train from Oakville to Toronto for the weekend to see a friend. I didn't have to ask permission or anything. And as I was sitting on the train I felt so grown up. And feeling like a grownup made me feel like a little kid. Kind of a reminder of how adult you felt about finally going to high school only to realize how young you were. Being excited about personal freedom only serves to show you how new it all is.
So I'm going to make some calls. I've got a plane and a hotel to book.
I've been to Ireland, which was through Contiki a few year ago. Awesome time, by the way. You buy the tour package, a plane ticket and then figure out a way from the airport to the hotel you need to be at. Then you're done.
I've been to San Francisco to meet up with a good friend who lives in California. That entailed buying a plane ticket and finding a hotel and getting there from the airport.
And then my ultimate trip was the three-week backpack through the UK when I was 21. This was a work of art, minus the fact I left my wallet at home, whoops. That's an entirely different story.
I had to book the flight, buy a rail pass online, research and reserve hostels and bed and breakfasts, research the directions I'd need to get from the train stations to my accommodations, and look into all the things I'd want to do beforehand so I wouldn't miss anything after the fact. I spent three weeks on this. I was also fresh out of college and an internship and unemployed, so I had nothing else more pressing to do.
And travelling alone for weeks in a foreign country when you're a single woman means you can't just wing it either. Your safety could be dramatically compromised. It's either plan, plan, plan or face the prospect of having to wander alone late at night with no one you know aware of where you are, looking for a place you can afford to stay, bogged down by all your travel gear.
And even with that behind me, something as simple as booking a flight and hotel for a two night stay in California for a wedding makes me go, "Eeeeeeek!" Not sure why. I'm excited and happy about going.
I remember when I was in college and I was taking the Go Train from Oakville to Toronto for the weekend to see a friend. I didn't have to ask permission or anything. And as I was sitting on the train I felt so grown up. And feeling like a grownup made me feel like a little kid. Kind of a reminder of how adult you felt about finally going to high school only to realize how young you were. Being excited about personal freedom only serves to show you how new it all is.
So I'm going to make some calls. I've got a plane and a hotel to book.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Iceland
I want to go to Iceland.
I was working on a show about Iceland and I got interested and jazzed about the idea of going there. It's not that far away and it's totally different than anywhere else I've ever been. They're descendants of Vikings. Their farming is purer and more ecologically sound than our farming, which means better food. They are living on volcanoes. They have a restaurant that heats everything with volcano steam and they have volcano hot springs. They have geysers and one highway that goes around the whole island, and they have killer whales and puffins.
Neat, right? Apparently it's not that expensive to go either. It would still be really ambitious, though. I'm planning a trip to Vancouver to see my family at Easter. I'm planning to go to a wedding in California in May. My cousin who just got engaged has informed me she wants a destination wedding somewhere like Mexico. So yeah. It'd be an act of extreme frugality to be able to make all these trips.
But I went practically nowhere in 2009 and that was a little depressing. Travel has long been my thing that I do. I'm no globetrotter or extreme backpacker, but I do like to get out there. I like to change things up temporary-like. Some people change jobs or relationships or go back to school or whathaveyou. I like being in new locations.
Huh. Maybe that's why I am constantly moving. Like, every one or sometimes two years. I hate doing it. But I do enjoy growing into a new home. I make so little progress everywhere else in my life, maybe moving and travel keep things fresh. Thinking on it, it's a little easier to feel like you're moving forward in life and not just aging and accumulating if you're focusing on where you're physically going to be next.
I'd like the traditional things in life: marriage, my own home and children. And ironically all of those things don't lend themselves too well to packing up and moving and travelling around. But if I had those things or at least was moving in the direction of those things, maybe I'd feel less wanderlust. I already have a job I like and friends who matter and a relationship that makes me happy. I just feel ready for more. And without that more to focus on in my present, it is enjoyable to think about where I want to go next.
And right now it's Iceland. McPal and his boyfriend brought it up last time I saw them. Might be a golden opportunity.
I was working on a show about Iceland and I got interested and jazzed about the idea of going there. It's not that far away and it's totally different than anywhere else I've ever been. They're descendants of Vikings. Their farming is purer and more ecologically sound than our farming, which means better food. They are living on volcanoes. They have a restaurant that heats everything with volcano steam and they have volcano hot springs. They have geysers and one highway that goes around the whole island, and they have killer whales and puffins.
Neat, right? Apparently it's not that expensive to go either. It would still be really ambitious, though. I'm planning a trip to Vancouver to see my family at Easter. I'm planning to go to a wedding in California in May. My cousin who just got engaged has informed me she wants a destination wedding somewhere like Mexico. So yeah. It'd be an act of extreme frugality to be able to make all these trips.
But I went practically nowhere in 2009 and that was a little depressing. Travel has long been my thing that I do. I'm no globetrotter or extreme backpacker, but I do like to get out there. I like to change things up temporary-like. Some people change jobs or relationships or go back to school or whathaveyou. I like being in new locations.
Huh. Maybe that's why I am constantly moving. Like, every one or sometimes two years. I hate doing it. But I do enjoy growing into a new home. I make so little progress everywhere else in my life, maybe moving and travel keep things fresh. Thinking on it, it's a little easier to feel like you're moving forward in life and not just aging and accumulating if you're focusing on where you're physically going to be next.
I'd like the traditional things in life: marriage, my own home and children. And ironically all of those things don't lend themselves too well to packing up and moving and travelling around. But if I had those things or at least was moving in the direction of those things, maybe I'd feel less wanderlust. I already have a job I like and friends who matter and a relationship that makes me happy. I just feel ready for more. And without that more to focus on in my present, it is enjoyable to think about where I want to go next.
And right now it's Iceland. McPal and his boyfriend brought it up last time I saw them. Might be a golden opportunity.
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