I'm 1 month shy of my 2-year "moved to Toronto" anniversary...
So what better way to celebrate than to write a commentary about the one landmark that sets this city apart from all other North-American cities - the CN tower.

This next section is to redeem myself. (While I made up my story about the CN tower being a giant-a$$ antenna, it was based on an educated assumption based on experience gained from visiting other such monuments around the world. So it came as no surprise to me that my "made-up" story is actually true.)

To verify my story - please check out the section that refers to microwave receptors blah blah blah.
www.cntower.ca

Pros:
- I get all the major channels (US & Canadian) by pointing a Radio Shack antenna towards the tower.
- It tells all directionally challenged individuals that they are indeed heading towards downtown (so east on the Gardiner & south on the DVP).
- It has lots of steps so if you're stuck for coming up with a charity event idea, you can always suggest a "climb the tower" event.

Cons:
- It is hideous - it has no grace, no culture, no charm. It is a concrete mass of ugly.

Summary: while lacking in charm and grace - it does serve a practical purpose. Thus, I am forced to admit that like the city of Toronto, I must accept the tower . And this is the very essence of my adopted city, not very many people I meet actually originate from or identify themselves as Torontonians. I for one still automatically tell people that I'm from Montreal. Most come from elsewhere and settle for career purposes. Almost no one I know wishes to retire or aspires to vacation here. But Toronto is convenient - the highways are massive and everything is quite readily available (providing you have enough Queen E's in your bank account). My prediction is that I might end up being one of those people who relunctantly admit after 10 years of living here...that this is my home.

BUT LET IT BE KNOWN THAT the one thing I NEVER will come to terms with - is if my husband-to-be buys a miniature Leafs jersey for my baby-to-be. So if my husband-to-be is reading this blog: whoever you are - consider this a warning. SUCH AN ACT WILL BE CONSIDERED AS A SLIGHT AGAINST MY IDENTITY/WISHES/HERITAGE AND MAY BE GROUNDS FOR DIVORCE OR AT LEAST A SERIOUS PSYCHO-SHOUTING-OUTBURST FROM YOURS TRULY. STICKING A LEAFS FLAG TO MY/OUR/YOUR CAR WILL ALSO BE GROUNDS FOR A HYSTERICAL OUTBURST. FINALLY - MY HOUSEHOLD WILL ALWAYS BE LOYAL TO THE MONTREAL CANADIENS a.k.a. THE HABS. mice type: The term "loyal" is defined as cheering for the team, proudly displaying logos, flags, paraphenilia and never speaking ill of this team and all its players both past and present - unless they are currently playing for a team opposing the Montreal Canadiens.

GO HABS GO!!!!

Are we all stalkers?

Let's all admit it - we all have some stalker-tendencies. For one, you're reading my web log - you stalker!!

So my commentary is this - the internet age has really facilitated the stalker in us to shine through. Some of us "google" the people in our lives...I for one, frequently go into my boss's e-calendar to find out what his day will be like for the next couple of days. For what reason? Oh just to know!

But what happens when we allow these stalker-tendencies to leave the cyber world and enter into our daily living?

Here are a couple stalker-stories:
This weekend, a friend of mine went to Conneticut to visit a guy friend - who happened to live in the same building as a recent ex-fling. As she was leaving, she noticed a brand new car sitting in the lot and she remembered her ex mentioning that he would be buying a new car. So she walked up to take a peek. The peek became a full-blown peer - which then became an analysis of both the car and the contents within the car. And as she was intensely peering inside, she suddenly noticed him coming out of the building. Mortified, she decided to duck and HIDE. She then carefully slinked away and never made her presence known - relieved that she was not caught in the act of stalking.

Now for the author of this blog...This past Friday while at work, I came back from a meeting to see that my friend called my cell. So I decided to return his call - I tried to reach him at his house and on his cell. Then at the end of the work day - I thought I'd try again because we were supposed to have plans that very evening. I got home and went to work out and when I got back to my apartment, I saw that he had called me back. Then the stalker in me BUSTED out and I tried like 7 or 8 times to call him back during the course of the night...forgetting that with technology these days...he would see this stupidness. It's not exactly the same thing as checking his blog a million times.

At 2 am he woke up from his accidental-crazy nap to find that I - the emptomy of coolness and aloofness had called him a million times.

My phone rang - "Hey M its G...sorry to call so late...but did you call me?" Half asleep I answer - "No...I'm sleeping" then he says "Ok - just checking to see if you are okay cuz I see on my cell and house line that you called a couple of times tonight."

OH F!!! Remembering my stalkerness. So after weeks of constructing this fabulously cool/chill image - I have ruined myself!! I tried as fast as I could to get off the phone - I was completely embarrassed and mortified. And as I was extricating myself from the conversation, he sweetly asked me to call him when I got back from my weekend trip.

Now to compensate for being suck a dork - I think I'll wait a couple of days extra before calling him. Hopefully this will negate the stalker acts I previously committed.

514 - hilarious.

So I got in early today and convinced the doorman to let me up to my parents' place. In my mind - a triumphant touching home-coming.

I threw down my bags and buzzed the hockey buzz expecting to hear my parents' laughter. I picture them rushing to open the door and hugs and emotion - YAY your lovely daughter has returned for the weekend!!!

No answer. WTF? so i bang on the door. no answer. WTF? I call everyone's cell one by one...NO ANSWER!!! WTF???!?!!!!?!!

Finally I get through to my Dad:
"Where are you?!" I impatiently ask.
"umm..in our apartment" says the male parental unit.
"NO! I've been standing at this door for an eternity - so you're definitely not home!!" says the lovely respectful daughter.
"oh. we're downstairs - just got back. figured you'd be late. HAHA! so you're waiting?" says the loving father.

*******************************
Living alone and then returning home - there are some hilarious things that can ensue.

I'm sitting alone drinking coffee - everyone is either busy or away...
The phone rings.
Cantonese on the other end. CRAAAAPPPP.

Last time I spoke Cantonese was 3 years ago...

The best is when the Auntie goes "WHEY! NEI HAI BEEN WAI AHH?!" (WHO ARE YOU?) I am Melanie. (I say in the most horrible English-accented Chinese).
Auntie goes "BEEN GOH???!!!"
Head voice - I AM MELANIE - YOUR FRIEND'S DAUGHTER. I USED TO EAT FOOD AT YOUR HOUSE. AND YOU USED TO ANNOY ME THEN TOO!!
She says "Ok tell your mother that Auntie XX called."
Me - Fake polite. "Ok! I will! Nice talking to you! YAY"

Then I remembered an old vice of mine from back in the day...
I never passed on the messages. muHAHAHAHA.

more hockey stories...

So as I rushed home to watch the 3rd period of the sens leafs game, I overheard this domestic dispute. The voices travelled into the hallway and I am ashamed to admit that I actually stood at my door to hear the rant to completion.

All I heard is mumbling from a male voice.

Then the female voice freaked "I DON'T WANNA WATCH ANYMORE F-ING HOCKEY. ALL WE DO IS WATCH F-ING HOCKEY. AND I HAVE NO F-ING WHERE TO GO!!! THIS IS F-ING BULLSHIT!!!"

Clearly this individual is in the wrong. No one comes between a hockey-lover and playoff time.

Most recent personal experience:
J: Hey M - it's me. How is it going?
M: Hey...
J: So nice to hear your voice...
blah blah blah blah for 10 minutes.
J: Hey! I hear the game is back on. Sorry it's third period. Gotta go.

click.

GO HABS GO!!!
I'm completely obssessed with playoff hockey. The last time I followed so closely was maybe 1994. It's all I can talk about, think about, dream about. I've caught myself cheering so loudly alone in my own apartment. I've heard myself say weird things like "I wanna become Kovalev's mistress" and finally - I find weird ways to incorporate it into daily conversations or my Sunday School lesson.

First of all, my friend in Montreal has one of the best websites ever! He is a loyal and true fan - like most of the Montrealers I know.

WJB

This second site is some random site (stolen off WJB) and it just documents how crazy my hometown is for our team.

GO HABS!!

Finally - GO HABS GO!!!! AHH OUAAAISS AH OUAIS AH OUAIS AH OUAIS!!!

Parfois la folie est la sagesse.
Sometimes madness is wisdom ~ Zelda Fitzgerald.

She the wife of F.Scott Fitzgerald.
He the author of The Great Gatsby and etc...
They - alcoholics, manic depressives, philanderers, madly in love.

She died in an insane assylum during a fire.

There are so many tragic heroines.

**************************************

It's bloody 6 am and I've long given up on the hope that I will sleep tonight. So I pretend that I am Sylvia, Virginia, Zelda - and I type away secretly hoping that some wisdom will come from some of this madness.

Romantic Archeology

Archeologists by profession, dig and discover artifacts. They then proceed to recreate stories about a certain time period.

And as we live our lives, what artifacts are we leaving behind and what artifacts are we keeping for others to find?

A week ago, someone I cared for deeply wrote me to tell me that a silver plate I gave him sparked a quarrel between he & his lover. She was angry and full of questions. Why would he keep something from so long ago? Was the moment shared so unforgettable? What purpose did it have in his present life?

His words made me think about all the other pieces of me which I've left behind and particularly, it made me think about the things I keep. Why do I keep them - the letters - the notes - the jewellry - the purses - the roses - the paintings and the photographs. Is it to remember the intimate unforgettable joys? Or is it to mark the hurt and the pain?

And when new loves come into my life and uncover these keepsakes - what stories are they weaving in their minds? What stories am I trying to tell them?

But these are the things we choose to keep.

What of the things to which we have no choice? The things unseen to the naked eye. Do they still exist? What story can they tell?

Well, if you tear open my chest;
Split my flesh from neck to navel;
Rip apart this rib cage;
Move aside the bloody mass;
You will find each encounter - etched - sliced - slashed on this beating bloody muscle.

And in my sadness - in my abject loneliness - in my despair,
It continues to beat - to heal itself and make it stronger,
To make me stronger.

Because this is the very heart God created - and it is good.

The 72 hour test.

I decided to put an end to my own crazzies.

Lord, I'm feeling vulnerable & scared & anxious.
If this isn't Your will - please save my heart because I can't do it myself.

"We try to take it slow
But we're still losin control
And we try to make it work
But it still isn't the worst
And I'm craaazzzy
For tryin to be your laaadddy
I think I'm goin crazy"
~ Black Eyed Peas - Shut up.

OK - it's official - I'm trying to finish a project - deadline is in 4 hours. And I officially have the crazzies. I'm driving myself insane with the Ex factor & with the Kenemy. I check my email to see if I got any replies from HK. I can't breathe.

pure madness.

why am I doing this to myself? possibly because I realized late last night that I screwed myself into having potentially the loneliest and most boring weekend ever. It didn't occur to me that this weekend would be a holiday weekend - whereby everyone with anyone in the city of Toronto spends time with family. And I am the loser who has none here.

WHY DIDN"T I GO HOME?!?!??!!!!

Ugly

I was down in my work cafeteria and I saw this attractive 'bien-mise' woman walking towards me. She smiled so amicably to me and said good-morning. I liked her immediately.

Then she whipped around and gave the worst attitude ever to the cafeteria worker, Anna. She was rude, unsmiling, unfriendly, demanding, commanding, - just plain horrible.

Then she turned around and offered me another smile and said something cordial and business-like.

I have never seen such a blatant display of "classism". How can people behave like that? How can they be so selective in who they are nice to?

I want to find out who this woman is - to make sure I never work for her - to make sure she never works for me.

BOOBoston

i'm so depressed. i can't believe we lost.

"You do this everytime! Everytime!! What?! Do you have some kind of radar? Carrie might be happy - it's time to sweep in and shit all over it?!!!?!"

Yea I don't have to tell you where that quote came from...do I?

A sick gift that God gave men - to swoop in. And women? What do we have? We have this sick ability to remember, to ponder, to torture ourselves with the past.

Everytime I find some sort of satisfaction in life - some little happiness to call my own, someone from my past comes back to haunt me and make me think...and think...and wonder about the 'what ifs' to make me doubt my present choices in life.

But this time I will have no part in it. They were undoubtedly sweet and unforgettable times. But you are not here - and you would never come back to me.

For once in my life, I am 'guarding my heart' as the Bible instructs. I choose stability, I choose NOT to abandon all for love - cause I choose to be happy - I choose myself.

"I looked for the one my heart loves;
I looked for him but did not find him. " Song of Songs Ch 3

So I read that bit over and over again eventhough it was not the theme of my lesson. Though it was not the theme of my lesson - it has been the theme of my life for the past while.

Almost two years ago, I started this journey of independence and solitude. I enjoyed both the challenges and the adventures. I am single and fabulous! However, earlier this year, I made a less-than glamourous decision. At the onset of turning a quarter of a century, I devoted some time to introspection - evaluated what part of my life I was happy with & what part of my life I wanted to change.

Career: very very well
Equity: growing at a healthy rate
Vacation/leisure: fabulous
Friends: excellent
Family: marvelous
Men: shit

To be very clear - I was not and am not disatisfied with my relationship status - single. I was disatisfied with the patterns I kept repeating. I always surrounded myself with some magnificent men: I would play, I would hurt or get hurt, I would leave. Each time my heart growing colder - my disposition more cynical.

So I decided to build up my relationship with God firstly and then concentrate on other things. I started learning and teaching the Bible at church and most importantly, I swore off men who were not followers of Jesus. Because how could I be with someone who didn't understand my single passion, which is Jesus.

Then I struggled with my decision (some readers might recall the men behaving badly blogs...) Finally, one week when the burden was particularly heavy - I did something uncharacteristic - I admitted that I was struggling with my decision and I admitted my fears to my small group. (A small group is a group of Christians formed to encourage one in their spiritual walk with Christ - we gather weekly to pray, read the Bible, and share our struggles)

And I cried out to my small group ladies - and I cried out to God.

"Why is it so difficult to follow Christ?!?!?!!! WHY IS GOD TESTING ME?? Does my decision to date ONLY Christians equate me being single for life? WHY IS THERE NO ONE FOR ME??? I just need a sign - to see that there are potentials out there somewhere - just one sign!"

So they listened & prayed for me. But secretly, I felt foolish for showing weakness and emotion in public.

Two days later, God brought someone into my life in the most random manner. And I am still speechless - delightfully happy - but speechless. Please understand that it is more about God listening to my cry for help - than it is about the guy. The new friendship is far too new to comment on - but I know this much is true. Just like that, God took my cynicism and showed me that He cares for me and listens to me. While I do not know whether or not things will work out with the guy - I know that things will always work out with the BIG GUY upstairs.

So this is my testimony: March 26th, 2004 was the first time that I could tangibly tell that God listened. And I know that it is because I surrendered - fully surrendered myself to Him.

So now isn't it perfectly obvious as to why I am single and fabulous? :)