The Way the Wind Blows,
Addendum

Isn't it amazing how quickly things can change? Proof that Fate is a fickle mistress. Our fate seems to be that we will never see Italy. It feels that way, at least. For the second time, our plans to visit that beautiful and fascinating destination have been squelched. This time, Fate was cloaked in the red tape of bureaucracy.

As we may have mentioned, we have progressed to the "last step" in the green card process. We're not even really sure what that means, because these things cannot be taken at face value. However, what it means for now is that during this tenuous time, we should not leave the country. Apparently, being away from the U.S.A. at this point in the paperwork implies that we are actually not interested in gaining a green card after all and thus, our paperwork would be tossed out and we would have to start the whole process over again.

Yes. Despite three plus years of waiting and jumping through hoops and obeying all the rules, we are now so close to our goal that we can almost see it. But heaven forbid that we take our eyes off the ball for even a moment, or else all is lost! It's enough to flesh out a Greek tragedy, I think. Imagine it! The heroes travel over land and sea to a foreign land, searching for the golden apple and just when it's in sight, some fatal flaw comes into play (our love of travel, I suppose) and the fat-bellied villain, laughing victoriously, snatches the prize at the last moment, leaving the heroes bereft and rending their togas and rubbing ashes in their hair...

Okay, the theatre major took over for a bit there, but you get the idea. I was very upset to hear the news, especially since this was our second attempt at planning an Italy trip and extra especially because we'd already spent $2000 on air fare. Oh woe! I very nearly cried, even though I was in public when Phillip called me with the news. Thank goodness for chocolate.

But the story is thankfully not yet over. Phillip and I began to consider alternatives, since several friends told us of their own predicaments with air fare that had positive outcomes. Initially, we thought that a domestic flight would be a fair trade for our tickets, but since our main interest finally came down to San Fransisco, we realized that we would be losing too much for an exchange. (No refunds!) So we took a gamble. The payoff is worth it - if it works. Instead of going to Italy this fall, we plan to both return to Canada for christmas holidays.

After mulling over dates and details, we contacted United Airlines and explained our situation.

"No problem!"

"Well that's great news."

"The transfer fee will be $399.00."

"Not so good."

"The balance owing is forty cents, but we'll waive that."

"Gee thanks."

So there you have it. The money was already spent and we weren't getting it back, so we went ahead and transferred the cost towards tickets to fly to Ottawa instead. It worked out, but there is still a small risk that the paperwork (which is supposed to be finished in October) will be delayed and we will still be grounded by the time December rolls around. We'll just have to keep our hopes up.

As for flights to San Fran? Well, they're set and rather than the full three weeks originally planned for our fall vacation, we'll take just two (saving the rest for Canada). We'll relax and enjoy the city that everyone says is wonderful and should not be missed, then zip up to Portland, Oregon, where our friend, Amanda now lives and visit with her for a few days before returning to San Diego.

There's more planning to do for the holidays, but we're both rather excited to be seeing family again. Phillip is looking forward to meeting his new nieces and nephews and we will also be taking part in the ritual of Brianna's baptism, where we will be standing in as god-parents. Pretty cool.

In the meantime, Phillip and are are enjoying the cooler weather, taking yoga classes in the park on Saturdays and generally recovering from the abrupt change in our end-of-year plans. I've always thought of myself as a pretty flexible person, but this sudden jolt to our expectations made me realize that once I have my heart set on something, it takes the wind out of me to be denied. Phillip seems to be taking things more in stride, but then, he's more laid back than I am and I think he had a tiny bit of trepidation about visiting a country where, once again, he would not speak a word of the language.

My favourite month is fast approaching and before we know it, we'll be among long-time friends and family again. We're looking forward to seeing you all and hope to find you in good health and high spirits.

Until then...

Come and Gone...

As per usual, I have let our updates lag horribly, so now I have to try and play "catch-up" while remaining succinct enough not to bore you all to tears. So, forgive me while I roll up my sleeves and wrack my brain for some semblance of an orderly contribution...

Spring came and went in a lovely breath of jasmine-scented air and warm sunshine. We were further spoiled by our visit to Florida, where it was quite a bit hotter, but really quite enjoyable. After all, how can one not enjoy bright, sunny days spent playing on the brilliant, white sands or lounging in the dappled shade with lots of snacks and beer within easy reach? It was a little piece of heaven and, as always, we were very grateful to Paul and Joan for being such gracious hosts. Here are some photos of our final adventure at Grayton Beach. Farewell, Florida, and thanks for all the fish!

And along comes... babies? Yep, two new members of the clan, Max Stephen and Brianna Kathleen joined the world on April 11th and May 20th, respectively. Moms and babies are all happy and healthy and thriving. I can't wait to see them again! I almost missed seeing Brianna completely when the little minx insisted on arriving on the last day of my visit! Max, being eager, arrived early, so while I got to visit with him, I missed the big event. As I packed my bags on the evening of the 19th, in preparation of my return to California, I was sorely disappointed to think that I was going to miss Brianna's birth as well. Happily, I was wrong and was able to be there with Nikki and Mario for Brianna's dramatic appearance. Contrary to some women, seeing the birth did NOT make me want to go out and do it myself. It looked like a lot of hard work! Three cheers for the bravery of motherhood!

June and July were very busy months for both Phillip and I; work at Qualcomm went into its cyclical upswing with the release of a new systems upgrade, and things continue to be a bit hectic as old code is replaced and tested. It is not unusual for Phillip to be paged at ten o'clock at night by a weary co-worker who has found some problem that he - along with a whole chain of others - has to fix.

Meanwhile, I was thrown directly into "The 8:13 Series", a project my fellow thespians and writers from Aspire Playwrights Collective were working on while I was away. Only days after my return, I stepped onto the boards to take up the role of a series of ex-girlfriends in "Exes", who were haunting the playwright (that guy has GOT to get over them, in my opinion). In the same night, I performed as the goddess, Athena, for a really funny play called "The Pantheon", depicting a People's Court type enactment of a messy divorce between Zeus and Hera. Turns out, Medusa is quite the little home-wrecker!

Shortly afterwards, I was asked to be in a show called "The Collection", which was to be performed at a professional theatre, 6th & Penn, for the Resilience of the Human Spirit Festival. I loved the script and accepted eagerly. The story takes place in the Hermitage Museum during the siege of Leningrad (1942) and my role was the part of a young artist and tour guide who, along with other museum staff and Russian military, is slowly starving to death while waiting for the siege to lift. Natalya's passion for art, and her infallible belief that "The Museum will live again", helps her survive, even when faced with the despondent, angry and violent soldiers who burn priceless chairs for firewood and mock her naivety. Here's a few shots of some the more climatic moments... By the way, I have a new scar to show for my efforts there.

The play ran until early August, which was also the end of the festival. I went to a general audition and was asked to do another play for the North Park Playwrights Festival (summer is the season!), however it was only a ten-minute script which I felt, despite having an interesting idea and surreal theatricality, needed quite a bit of editing. Incidentally, I had submitted my own short script to the same festival, but it was not chosen by any of the directors involved. When I happened to speak to one of them, she explained that, while she liked the idea, the requirement of working with teenagers turned her off. I had assumed that no one wanted to do a "Canadian" play. Hmm, not what I expected, but insightful nonetheless. Anyway, regarding the acting role, I decided that for the amount of effort I would be putting into rehearsals, it would not be a good use of my time. Right now, I'm focused more on planning our Italy trip.

Yes! Italy! We are leaving San Diego on September 14th (happy birthday Steph), and will be flying overnight to Heathrow. Side note: the Economist recently quoted the Daily Telegraph as declaring, "... using Heathrow airport is more stressful than getting mugged at knife point." Yikes! Stress aside, we will be staying in London with Lincoln and Deb for a few nights before flying to our first Italian destination; Venice! I can't help but grin to think that a part of my mind will be comparing the real thing to the Venice Hotel in Las Vegas. I expect it will be less pristine and more smelly.. ha ha!

Our general plan at this point is to focus on one type of activity in each of the places we visit, since we know that it is impossible to see everything in one trip and we would only exhaust ourselves or ruin the fun by trying to do too much. So, after some deliberation, we decided that in Venice we will focus mainly on theatre - I plan to buy a performance mask, if I can, and then we will be traveling by train to Tuscany. Our focus there is to visit the country-side and take in some local cuisine (wine!) and culture before continuing on to a locale outside of Naples, where we plan to meet up with Paul and Donna and visit the ruins of Pompeii. Afterwards, it's off to Rome to see as many of the glorious artistic and historical wonders as we can before heading back over the pond, with a brief stop over again in London. Yes, we will be bringing our hosts prezzies to thank them for letting us take up room!

Final tidbits: Phillip's soccer team came in second last season, with our friend, Nora, topping the charts as the highest-scoring female player! Woot! Scuttle has required more medicating - I'm afraid she's starting to show her age, which is eleven years, since March, but is otherwise well. Maverick is great - his training is still slow, but steady. It was nice to hear positive feedback from friends saying "he's getting better"! We've had a few very successful parties here - you guys know we throw great parties - with my fresh lime margaritas and Phillip's eclectic music taste getting top marks! We've made some new friends and things are actually progressing positively with the visa documents. Phillip and I are both starting Yoga in the Park, which is awesome, especially since it's free, and we're both healthy (except for those pesky soccer injuries) and happy.

So, that wasn't too bad, right? Succinct summary of succulent... ah, never mind. I hope you're all caught up, and enjoying summer while it lasts. Take care, drop us a line or give us a call when you can.

March Madness

I think February is the armpit of the year. That's my excuse for not posting for the last three weeks, and I'm sticking to it.

Actually, this February had one bright spot; my dear friend, Heather Marie, came to visit for six, fun-filled days. Oh joy, oh bliss! I mean it. We had a blast - and I think HM's comment on her first night here sums up our visit very well: “Dude! Did we just talk for four straight hours?!” Indeed, we had. No sooner had our guest refreshed herself with a shower after her long flight, did we plop ourselves down on the couch with cups of tea and gab 'till our voices were tired. It was grand.

“Annie Leibovtiz: A Photographer's Life” was at the San Diego Museum of Art during Heather Marie's visit, so it was a natural choice to visit. Bonus: it was a Tuesday and admission was free! The exhibition accompanies the artist's book of the same name, published by Random House (2006) and was quite extensive. We saw the anticipated celebrity portraits, most of which were beautiful, but not as interesting (we thought) as some of the personal and political photos, which surprised us a little. Personally, I have only ever known Leibovtiz as a celebrity photographer, but this showcase was also “... a portrait of the artist as a mother, sister, daughter, friend, lover, concerned citizen of the world and participant in life.” [Jeppesen, Georgette. "Photographic Memories.” Décor & Style Magazine March 2007: 78 - 82.] If the exhibit happens to come to Ottowa, or you have a chance to look through the book, I'd recommend it.

The weather was mostly cooperative for HM's visit; she got a little of everything, though sadly, on her last day, very windy conditions prevented us from going out on one of the harbour excursion ships for a whale-watching event. According to Birch Aquarium, a marine research facility and visitor centre just north of La Jolla, the grey whale migration is 5,000 miles long, leaving Alaskan waters and travelling all the way south to Baja, California - the longest known distance any mammal migrates on an annual basis. With 70 miles of coastline, San Diego is an ideal place to see these amazing animals, but we were simply unlucky this time. During the peak migration season in mid-January, as many as 200 whales per day have been counted off of San Diego’s shores; sometimes, their spouts can be seen from La Jolla's boardwalk. Next time!
Other than that, we saw some good theatre, ate out a few times, shopped (Heather Marie got a fabulous hat that I failed to get a picture of, damnit), and we even went to the spa. I had a facial and pedicure while HM got a two-hour reflexology massage. Lovely. We didn't make it out to a live music show at 4th & B, the same, intimate venue where Phillip and I got to see The Tragically Hip, or the local dance club “Air Conditioned Lounge”, but we had LOTS of conversation, wine and relaxation – just what the doctor ordered, I think. All in all, a very successful visit! By the way, I loved the card, girlfriend!

The same day Heather Marie left, I went back to the spa where the small asian lady, named “Twee”, had promised to easily remove the bumps she noticed on my nose, along with a few moles. After checking out poloroids of previous clients and asking several questions, I agreed. This is California, after all, and this sort of simple cosmetic “surgery” is something done at the spa, not the doc's office. Having had two moles removed with a scalpel and cauterizer before, I was slightly nervous, especially since she had neglected to mention anesthetic. Happily, she had just the tiny cauterizer tool and applied a topical ointment, which satisfied my sense of procedure, and once she began, it seemed fine.

However, the topical anesthetic did not go very deep, and once she burned through a few layers of skin, I could really feel it. Plus, since the work was on my nose and cheek, I could smell the horrible scent of my own flesh burning. I flapped my hands at her until she stopped and reapplied more anesthetic, as well as supplying me with a little japanese fan to wave away the smell. It was better, but still slightly painful. I left the spa with four black scabs on my face and one on my left hand (a worriesome mole there came about after a sunburn, so I was glad to be rid of it). The best part was that this simple procedure only cost me $90.00. That's $50.00 for the first mole, plus $10.00 for each additional! It cost $300.00 for Dr. L. in Ottawa to remove two of them.

A week later and the scabs are nicely healed. I followed the after-care procedure to the letter, treating the burns with polysporin three times daily and now I have only slight red spots, which are fading. The one on my hand was quite deep, and might scar because it got slightly infected. Being on the hand, it doesn't surprise me, and if it does scar, it won't really bother me - better than a sun-spot! Plus, I'm really very pleased to finally be rid of those silly bumps on my nose. Children in the past have asked me, in their sweetly innocent way, if I was a witch. When I asked why, they said “because you have warts on your nose!”. Charming.

Ah, San Diego ... it's growing on me. Maybe it's just the change of seasons – spring is here, by the way - but I do appreciate the benefits of being in Southern California. From simple cosmetic procedures that can be done at the spa (Botox anyone? No worries, I didn't go that far!), to amazing weather and a wonderful variety of food choices that means I'm eating like a queen – it's hard to beat. For example, when HM was here, we made a point of stopping at Whole Foods market, a wonderful health-food, all natural kind of grocery that costs a lot, but carries everything today's health-conscious Californians could possibly want. Since Heather Marie has a few dietary restrictions and we wished to ensure her digestive happiness during her visit, we stopped by and of course, quickly got caught up in “oooh, this looks yummy!”. HM was able to easily find whole cultured yogurt (a plethora of choices), ground flax (a fibre supplement), soy milk (again, plethora) and specific cereal that suited her needs, Phillip and I bought fruit salad, a yummy cherry beer, soy milk, unsulphered ginger slices, dark-chocolate covered organic almonds and organic, free-range eggs. I mean, really! Are we spoiled or what?

So... I may have mentioned wanting to return to Canada soon, but to be honest (and I know Heather Marie will laugh when she reads this), I still haven't given it four years, as originally promised. That's not my only reasoning, however; things are at a junction right now. Phillip is up for one more promotion before he hits the top of his carreer ladder here, and I want to see him succeed at that. This means more opportunity for travel. Yes! Travel. Since Qualcomm gives Phillip three weeks vacation annually, we can take advantage of that benefit to visit Europe for our next holiday. Phillip would probably take one extra week upaid, just so we don't have to rush, but it's an advantage that's hard to pass up. That could happen as early as fall 2007, which means that NEXT year, if we chose to leave, we can travel again (we're hoping to go to Australia) before we settle back in Canada. Finally, we love having visitors here and want to give as many folk as possible the chance to come see what San Diego is all about (and have a cheap place to stay while they're here!) before we leave. It's only fair to share. Given all these points, I feel we will have fully exploited the benefits of being here, both personally and professionally. If I get all gloomy again come winter, someone remind me to read this.

Some unhappy news: Scuttle is spending the night at the vet tonight. She has been acting rather strangely lately: messing on the carpet twice in a week, eating and drinking erratically, and I found blood in her stool when I cleaned her litter box. So, I made an appointment for today and took her in – walking there with her in the soft-sided carrier - something that upset her enough that she messed in it along the way. Though it was unpleasant for me, I just felt awful for her; she's ten years old now and doesn't deal with stress as easily anymore. Phillip and I have had her since she was eleven weeks old and small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, so she's family and it breaks my heart to cause her anxiety. She was shaking like a leaf in the waiting room and when the doctor examined her, he mentioned a heart murmur. She will undergo the full spectrum of tests to find out what's causing the bloody stools, but they're administering antibiotics right away in case of an immune deficiency syndrome. I know she's not a kitten anymore, but I've also known many cats in their teens who were happy and healthy, so I am trying to stay positive. I really expect to have her for many more years. She may just have an allergy or an infection, which should be easily treatable. I'll find out tomorrow when I go pick her up. Keep your fingers crossed!

And finally, after much agonizing and deliberating, Phillip got his new iMac. I was home for the delivery and couldn't resist setting it up. Wow! They really mean it when they say “out of the box plug and play”. It's incredible. The widescreen, 24” display alone had my jaw dropping – and that was just watching it in screen-saver mode. The photos that come packaged with it are spectacular; Paul, you will want one when you see it, I promise. I find I am so seduced by its modernist exterior, cool functionality (including a tiny remote that sticks unobstrusively to the side of the monitor) and its delicious, but powerful guts, that I capitulated my stance on having it in the living room. It's too beautiful not to show off. At least for now....

Well, that sums up the latest news. Phillip and I will be celebrating our third year wedding anniversary this week, which means twelve years of cohabitant bliss. Crazy! We are both looking forward to our weekend trip to Floriday this month and hope that all of you are doing exceptionally well. It's good to hear news from “back home”, so keep those emails coming. I'll be in Canada from April 24th to May 22nd for the birth of a niece and nephew (how convenient that they're so close together), so I should have some time for visits in between hospital visits!

Take care, all and happy March! XOXO
Kat & Phillip

Observations

In my last update, I mentioned that I had more thoughts to write down, but since the post was getting quite long, I decided to wait for the new year to share them with you. I hope there is some, small, token anticipation, though not so much that you are disappointed with what I have to offer.

Anticipation is a tricky thing; it's often enjoyable because we can imagine a happy outcome, a reward, you might say, for our patience. Yet other times, it can be downright awful – I'm not talking about dreading something, not that kind of anticipation – I'm talking about anticipation that grows out of proportion to whatever it is you are waiting for, so that when the time finally arrives, you are buzzing with it, positively bursting, but the long-awaited reward turns out to be unsatisfactory and you are left feeling deflated and unhappy. One could argue of course, that it isn't the anticipation itself that is at fault, but the resulting negative emotion associated with unrequited desire, but I digress...

Observation: Canadians are everywhere. It's true. I meet one everytime I fly, and I'm not talking about flights to and from Canada, because that that would be too easy. On our last flight from Vegas to San Diego, I met an Acadian, who was living in Nevada because he was working there. Oddly, his destination was Conneticut – his flights were like a connect-the-dots puzzle because of holiday “mix-ups”. Poor guy. He was stoic about it though. Must the be Canadian in him...

We also met a Canadian family in the line up to a restaurant in Vegas. This of course is not that surprising, considering the fact that Vegas is a tourist destination, but I still found it to be a pleasant surprise. They were from Winnepeg I believe and were... c'mon, say it with me... “very nice and polite.”

I regularly bump into new people here in San Diego who are from Canada and just the other night, at a party of mostly unknown people, I met a fellow “Quebecer” who had come to San Diego to teach. My theory is that Canada will slowly but surely infiltrate the entire U.S.A, all the while being very quiet and polite about it, until eventually, large parts of this country (think blue states) will eventually come to realize they would rather be Canadian and politely cede, eh?

Or maybe not. It's just a theory.

We do get noticed however; it's our accent usually, but here's a new example: Phillip and I were eating at a deli in Vegas – one of those old-fashioned places that have black and white tiles everywhere, chequered tableclothes and pickled eggs in jars on the counter – I had ordered a lox plate and Phillip got the turkey dinner sandwich. There was an older couple sitting right beside us because the tables were those metal-edged pedestle affairs that can be pushed together for large parties but are otherwise separated by four inches of space for couples. My bagel and lox was huge: typical for American delis, and apparently my method of eating caught the attention of the gentleman, who asked us if we were European.

When we corrected him, he nodded, as if satisfied, and I couldn't resist asking why he thought we were from Europe. His answer: “You were eating with your knife and fork.” Well! I had no idea that the polite use of utensils was considered “foreign”. It's not like we've seen Americans on hands and knees, grubbing in their food with sauce-covered fingers, but perhaps because I found the bagel, cream cheese and lox too much to comfortably manage with my hands, I was identified an “non-native”. We got a good laugh out of that.

Another funny moment happened while Phillip and I were weaving our way through one of the many casinos that seem to grow like mushrooms in every available space of Las Vegas, including the underground walkways connecting the hotels. Of course, they are the main attraction in the lobby of every hotel, but in this case, we were on a lower level, looking for a box office, and quite lost. We were not alone in this predicament, for as we approached the the glowing promise of a directory map, we saw many other people with similar expressions of bewilderment etched upon their neon-lit faces. My favourite was a family that was circling the area like a herd of sheep when the mother suddenly exclaimed “Wait, I just got a whiff of fresh air! I think it's this way!”

One other, more disturbing thing we noticed on our visits to the classic tourists spots in Vegas is that the majority of people we saw there were obese. Some of them frighteningly so – often with obese children in tow. Considering the massive portions served in every popular restaurant we went to, and the tendency towards highly processed and fast foods available both at the drive through (a sad development in itself) and in our grocery stores,it's really not a surprise that North America as a whole is getting fatter every year. Living in Southern California, we have perhaps had less exposure to it; I believe California tends to be a “healthier” state than most, at least in appearance, so we were rather more aware of it in Vegas when suddenly everyone around us was three times our size. I won't quote statistics and sound-bites here, because I'm sure that most of you have heard them, but evidence to the reality of the situation can be seen in the fact that there are whole groups dedicated to studying the problem.

Something else that is prevalant everwhere we go: Starbucks. It's amazing! I have to admit, however, that we were grateful for the familiar symbol in one instance at least... It was our first morning in Vegas and we were both hungry, caffeine deprived and impatient with the endless lines at every hotel restaurant, so we left in search of a local breakfast place. After walking for a while, it became apparent to us why the concierge had looked at us strangely when we asked directions to the nearest bakery or pancake house. There's little else on the Strip except hotels, so we searched in vain for a while before finally ducking into another hotel, hoping for smaller crowds. Through the haze of smoke and flashing lights from hundreds of slot machines, we saw the white and green sign and, like castaways on a desert island hurrying towards a mirage, we pushed our way through the obstacle course of the casino floor and arrived gasping at our destination. I claimed the first empty table in the shop with a mixture of relief and resignation while Phillip stood in line - this one shorter than others we had seen. I had to fend off the various bids for the empty chair I was saving for Phillip and when he finally returned, I was informed that I should appreciate the mocha and muffin I was having because, in addition to the coffee and muffin Phillip had for his breakfast, we were out another twenty dollars. One would think that the sheer expense of their products would be a deterrent, but in the two-and-a-half years that we've lived here, we've discovered no less than three in our neighbourhood (walking distance) with an additional three within a five minute drive from us. Two of them opened in the last year. Still, I occasionally crave a grandé, non-fat, two-pump mocha, no whip cream, please.

If a cold beer is more to your liking, we spotted a sign during our travels at a local watering hole: “Happy Hour, 11am – 6am”. How's that for a tall drink? Wish I'd had my camera.

Speaking of which, Peter Lik is a photographer who had a gallery at the Venetian; here's a link to his site and a sample of his surrealist landscapes. The black-walled space they used to display his work highlighted the incredible light and colour in his images. I recommend a visit.

Well, that's all for this update. I know I rambled, but that's why I saved this stuff for last. It was a little bit of everything, all scraped together, so you'll forgive the ocassionaly dramatic turn of phrase, I hope, and drop us a line sometime.

Farewell, 2006!

As I begin to write, I realize that this will be my last post for 2006. Amazing how quickly the time passes. Come May, we will have been in San Diego for three years!

The last several weeks were relatively quiet, plus I did not feel prepared to relate to you any earlier than now the one small adventure I had, since it was neither thrilling nor fun. After several months of suffering very strange patterns of indigestion and taking far more Malox than I would like, I decided to look for a new GP, though our original practitioner had moved away and the group with whom he'd worked was no longer accepting our insurance. By the way, health insurance here is still a mystery to me and I fear that will always be the case.

Anyway, after going through a ridiculous rigmarole to actually find a doctor that was: 1)accepting new patients and, 2) would accept our particular insurance, I made an appointment, for which I was warned not to eat or drink anything after nine o'clock the night before. Perhaps I was spoiled by my last experience with the neuro-specialist, but this encounter was more like being a lab rat than a client deserving of health care. If any of you have ever had to undergo an “upper GI” exam, you have my deepest sympathies.

The ultrasound was not really that bad; cold, gooey gel on my belly and some minor prodding was quickly forgotten in the face of a starchy robe to wear over nothing but my birthday suit and socks, which was quite the fashion statement. More awkward was being made to wait in the little change closet in the hallway while people went wandering by! I couldn't close the door for fear the doctor would lose track of me, but there was a lot of tugging of the robe going on while I tried to read a book with the casual air of someone who often sits half-naked in a closet.

I was eventually led to a very chilly exam room which was dominated by a huge x-ray machine that looked like it was new in the sixties, and there I sat to waited some more until a lab technician came and mixed some “potions” as he so wittily called them. The doctor, who breezed in like a cold wind, barely said two words to me; this procedure was obviously done about a hundred times per day and they had it down to a bleak science. After stepping onto the platform and being blocked in by the metal film chamber, I was told to drink down something like Alka-Seltzer to the power of ten, immediately followed by chalky white barium.

Oh my f*cking god! I was warned that I “may have the urge to burp”, but that doesn't come close to describing the eruptions that emanated from me at an alarming rate and ferocity. I soon had barium all over my chin and hands as I tried desperately to quell the embarrassing variety of responses to these “potions”. The doctor looked disappointed with me and cruelly order another round of the gassy shot, which I wisely drank with smaller sips this time (I'd thrown back the first like a shot of tequila) and managed to hold it down long enough for the doc to get her x-rays of my esophagus.

Next, the platform was tilted to become horizontal and I was told to “roll like a log” for the barium to coat my stomach; while more pictures were taken of my insides. My flopping about and the pictures continued at a rather manic pace until I was made to sip more barium through a straw while lying on my stomach so they could observe my swallowing function or some such thing. During this whole episode, incessant burps were struggling out through my mouth and nose and I swear, one came out my ears.

When it was over, I was told to wait in the exam room (which was no warmer) and allowed to wash my hands and face before being let go. Burping all the way home, I had the sinking feeling that my ordeal would prove fruitless, and I was proved correct. Apparently there is no evident cause for my stomach pains. I've only suffered one bout of indigestion since then (as if my body is afraid of going through the ordeal again) and I'm thinking Malox will always be a staple in our medicine cabinet.

December was heralded in with the usual premature Christmas jingles in every store, though we were happily spared for the most part, since we did no shopping this year, except for a few cards and one or two gifts for each other. Despite this god-send, I missed the fun of gift-buying for the family. Next year, next year, I say! And thank you all very much for the gifts we received in the mail. They arrived whole and undamaged and were enjoyed and appreciated.

As many of you already know, our plans for Christmas this year were unconventional - four days and nights in Vegas! We began spoiling ourselves almost immediately when we realized we would have at least a three hour wait in Los Angeles. We paid the twenty-five dollar fee to take advantage of Delta's business-class lounge where we had free drinks and snacks and wireless access. It turned out to be a wise choice as we had arrived early and our connecting flight arrived two hours late.

We checked into the Paris Las Vegas hotel, which has a huge Eiffel Tower built into its entrance facade and is happily across from the Bellagio, which is famous for its musical fountain and light show. Check out Phillip's Picassa album for our Vegas shots. The interior, aside from the massive, in-your-face casino floor, has a concave ceiling painted to look like a blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds and ambient light that is at the perfect comfort level of pseudo-dusk or early morning. No nasty sun to make you squint while you gamble. There is a constant breeze coming from the vents, cleverly disguised in the leafy canopies of the fake trees scattered about and once you pass the slot machines and card tables, you can follow the quaint cobbled streets that take you along the shop fronts and restaurants throughout the “property”.

These hotels really are the next generation of accommodation; they are referred to as “properties” because they really are like an acreage, encompassing everything a body could possibly want to find in a quaint Parisian (or Venetian, or Roman, or Tropical, etc) village. There are many little shops catering to everything from commercial, mass-produced souvenir trinkets to high-end jewelery stores and exclusive designer fashions. There are also several restaurants, from all-you-can eat delis to typical American-style eateries – we visited the St. Louis on our first night due to fatigue and hunger and were sadly disappointed with the very bland, standard American fare. This was later rectified by a visit to the most exclusive Eiffel Tower Restaurant, requiring a reservation, the correct attire and a “laissez-faire” attitude about having your wallet yanked out through your nose.

We treated ourselves to this expensive meal on the last night because I'd heard the chef “upstairs” was fabulous. As it turns out, we were both delighted with the champagne aperitif, the baked Camembert starter and the wonderful Napa Valley Duckhorn Sauvignon Blanc (2005) recommended my our charming, tuxedoed – and Russian! waiter. My vegetarian main was beautiful, if a little boring in flavour, but I found Phillip's organic chicken dish very subtle and delicious. My chocolate hazelnut desert with espresso was wonderful, but the whole experience reminded me that French food is very rich, often hearty, and not terribly interested in vegetarian expression.

Paris Las Vegas was not our favourite hotel in the end, mostly due to the over-abundance of cigarette smoke. After walking our feet off for nearly the entire length of The Strip, and visiting nearly every major hotel, we decided that New York -New York , Mandalay Bay and The Venetian took the cake for overall, cohesive themes, functional layouts and appealing offerings for the jaded consumer.

The shows were our main reason for visiting Vegas and we are happy to report that they were all fabulous! The first, Zumanity, at New York-New York, was a sensual celebration of human sexuality and eroticism and was done very tastefully, with a good dash of humour on the side. The point regarding variety in human pleasure was well made and the result was a very enjoyable spectacle.

The second show was a Beatles-themed affair titled “Love” that made me question whether Cirque de Soleil's creative juices were finally drying up, but nay, my doubting mind was quickly put at ease in the amazing theatre-in-the round, which made brilliant use of huge scrims; these curtains are ingenious theatre devices woven in such a way as to be made opaque, semi-transparent or invisible with the use of different lighting angles. Initially used to divide the auditorium into four sections, they seemed odd, but they were pulled back at the start of the show and brought out later to good effect. The whole show naturally used Beatles music, which heightened the nostalgic feeling of joy and hope as half the audience sang along (myself included) and acrobats cavorted in hippy costumes reminiscent of the era of peace and love and the anti-war movement of the sixties. Very very well done – our favourite show as it turns out.

The final show we saw was not by Cirque de Soleil, though definitely inspired by them. It was also in a round, domed theatre, but the stage was a huge, circular pool with multiple levels that could be raised and lowered for amazing variety. The performers wore a variety of costumes, from sea-dragons to ballerinas and synchronized swimmers of the 50's. It was a visual treat and what I found particularly interesting was the choice of white-only performers, all the males having been made to shave their heads bald and most of the women wearing skullcaps to give them a fifties-style wavy coif. Overall, these choices contributed to the highly styalized light, water and steam effects, which were very impressive. We did have one minor critique of the show, however; unlike Cirque, who use simultaneous groups of performers on-stage for transitions, this show didn't quite manage to hold the attention where it was supposed to be. We both found ourselves easily distracted by minor performances that pulled focus from the main attraction for too long or too often. Still, we had a wonderful time and hope to return for more shows sometime in the future.

We came home this week, replete with entertainment and have quite enjoyed sleeping in, lazing about the house, playing our favourite online game together and eating out whenever the mood strikes us (which has been frequently). Phillip has a bit of cold – probably as a result of the incredibly dry environment of Nevada, but we are both otherwise very healthy and content. We have some great memories of a very unusual Christmas holiday and hope that the New Year holds as much promise. I have more to share in the way of “observations” and anecdotes, but I will save them for our next post, which should also include a report of our New Year's Eve activities, which I promis for mid-January at the latest. Here's wishing you all happy, healthy and safe holidays.

K & P

November

Have you ever been so convinced by someone's dopplegänger, even though your rational mind tells you it's highly unlikely to be them, that you stop the person and say “Jane?” Or not Jane, if it's a Joe or a Jim or a Judy, but you get my point. Well, I did that recently. And I acutally said “Jane?” because I thought this woman walking down the street in my neighbourhood was Jane Findley. Those of you who know her will be amazed when I say that here was a woman, taller than I, with short white hair, large blue eyes, and a confident walk that seemed so convincingly Jane-like that I was forced to reach out to her. Of course, I was immediately corrected as she pulled her arm away from me with something akin to distaste (not very Jane-like really) and went along her solitary way. She was listening to an iPod, so who knows what she thought I said to her?

Dopplegängers are very curious, don't you think? From the German words “doppel”, meaning “double” and “gänger” - “walker”, the dictionary describes it as: “the ghostly, or in some cases physical, double of a living person. In the vernacular, refers to any double or look-alike of a person, most commonly in reference to a so-called evil twin, or to bilocation.”

Apparently, I have several of these twins walking about. I have been told on more occasions than I care to remember that I look “just like” so-and-so, or have been told “I saw you go by yesterday”, only to correct the person with some other alibi. My guess is that I have fairly common features, and therefore, it is rather easy for me to look like a greater number of people. But Jane? She's not at all common in appearance. I would go so far as to say that she stands out in a crowd. This is why I was driven to stop a complete stranger on the street and call her “Jane”.

A less pleasant description of dopplegänger stems from myth: “Alternatively, the word is used to describe a phenomenon where you catch your own image out of the corner of your eye. In some traditions, seeing one's own doppelgänger is an omen of death. A doppelgänger seen by friends or relatives of a person may sometimes bring bad luck, or indicate an approaching illness or health problem.”

Obviously, I'm not superstitious, otherwise, I'd be asking someone to contact Jane and ask her how she's feeling, but I do find the notion of people who look so much alike as to mistaken for each other very curious. It's as though there are just so many molds with which to make a person that some tend to be used more often. Or, as I like to imagine for my case, some molds are preferred. ;)

To look at this from another perspective, having common features that I can also choose to look like a greater number of other people, ie; be someone else. Rather convenient for an actor, wouldn't you say? It's always a compliment to me when, after a show, someone will express great surprise at my appearance and say “Wow, I didn't recognize you in the show.” Maybe that's why I enjoy mask and clown so much. One really becomes a blank slate on which to paint a completely different picture. It can be quite liberating, not to mention fun!

Speaking of shows, I performed in a short play on the third and fourth this month. A play called “Bone China”; a snapshot moment between two sisters sitting in their parent's attic reminiscing while tentatively discussing the future in which one of them (my character's sister) will be dead of an inoperable brain tumour, leaving behind a three year old daughter that will not remember her. It's not as gloomy as it sounds; it is well balanced with humour and affection between the sisters and the director pointedly steered it away from a Disney tear-jerker, so I had good feelings about it. Our first performance was a little rocky at the start because my co-star panicked and dropped a page worth of lines – it's only a twenty minute play, so a page is signifigant, but I modified one of her lines and made it my own in order to get us back on track and we were fine after that, though not entirely happy. The second performance was good. A local critic asked me to contact him the next time I'm in a show, but he has a reputation of being a lecherous old coot, so I this was less of an honour than it would otherwise be.

In other entertainment news, I've finally broken down and submitted my resume and headshot to two local filmmakers who are known through a mutual friend. I won't tell you more about it until I hear back – if at all, because I'm a bit spooked by the idea of acting in front of a camera.. go figure.

I mentioned in our last update that the Qualcomm year-end party was coming up and that we had purchased vintage clothes for the event, so hence the picture. It was a fun, magician-themed night with a bit of fantasy thrown in by way of dueling knights who did a pretty good job weilding heavy broadswords at each other for our amusement. One of these days, we're going to discover that Qualcomm is an evil corporation bent on taking over the world and we'll look back at these events and go. “Uh huh. Just as we suspected.” It feels that way sometimes.

So, there you have it, a summary of highlights from October. We're planning to do American Thanksgiving with Phillip's soccer buddies this year – "the Sprouts". *snicker* Not much otherwise going on. We'll be in touch.

Woot, top post!

I did that just to bother Kat. We're sitting at an Open Mike at the local coffee shop listening to upstarts, wannabes, progressing artists ... and a few freaks. Normal offerings in North Park. Ooh. Opera. Mixed feelings about that one, truly not something I was expecting at a coffee shop.

I'm actually working. Obviously not as I write this, I'm writing between kicking things off and watching log files scroll by. I had to get the system to myself and night-time is the only chance I have to do that.

This weekend promises to be nothing but work. The Qualcomm Year End party is on Friday night, so that is the kind of work I don't mind. Just for the fun of it Kat and I decided to go retro this year and went to a place called Frock You! that deals in vintage clothing. Kat got a beautiful dress that looks like a 20s flapper dress (but we were assured was 60s, because they loved the 20s, that says something about cyclical fashion trends) and I picked up a suit circa 1940s, with suspenders and matching shirt. I decided to go without the tie, I'll be a crazy 1940s tieless rebel. I still have to go pick up a fedora to match the outfit, luckily there is the Village Hat Shop here in San Diego and has a wide range of hats to choose from. We'll have to post some pictures once we've gotten all dolled up. Kat looks stunning, as per normal :)

Sadly the rest of the weekend is me going in on Saturday to support a large release of new code, then being on call all Sunday for changes that are going through. Does it suck? Yes indeed it does.

I'll post a link to some pictures from six flags once I'm back on my own computer, I don't have them on the laptop. I must say that I managed a big Karma boost, I drove to six flags and sat outside the rides waiting while all the adrenaline freaks had their fixes. In my mind I was figuring out their wait:ride ratio, and it wasn't good. Assuming 2min per ride (and that is pretty generous) and five rides they went on the ratio was around 30:1. I did manage to get through the previous weeks Economist and half way through the new week, so not all was lost :P

The pictures are from a ride called Tatsu that looked ... well nausea inducing. They hung down from those supports and got thrown around a lot. You'll have to read from somebody who would enjoy that sort of thing a better explanation, I don't understand it. I did chat with a lady whose 70 year old husband was also in line to ride that thing, seems he had 'corrupted' the grand children into enjoying them. Given that our only common discussion point was a dislike of rides we didn't have a long conversation. Short sentences, sighs of common troubles, smirks of understanding, eye rolling, raised eyebrows, uncomfortable silences, shuffling, relieved partings.

Just in case people are wondering, the other guy in the photos is Todd, a friend from work. He really likes rides so he was more than happy to come along. Todd enjoys them, but I think Lisa tops that, she has a manic focus: she had a list of the top rides she wanted to go on. I felt like being part of themepark elite force: maximum rides, minimum time. go Go GO! I know some of you are pondering how somebody can manage a 'manic focus', she pulled it off, it's a little scary.
For those of you in Southern California, Todd's single, a really nice guy, and plays in a band. Heavy metal appreciation only.
The other person in the picture is Kat, you probably can't tell with all that hair in the way.

Links to pictures:

Lisa_visit_2006

When it Rains...

This is my favourite month, not only because of my second birthday (October 20th ) or “unbrithday” as I fondly call it, but because the weather becomes decidedly cooler and more serious. I should have followed my instincts the other day and taken a photo of the colourful leaves clinging gamely to a small oaky-looking sapling, but alas, after I returned, I forgot all about it. Until now, which means I'll feel obligated to go out there again and find that damn tree, just to prove to everyone that autumn happens here too.

Since last I wrote, gas prices in San Diego soared briefly to an all time high (in my experience) of 3.02 / gallon for premium, which is what we buy for the bikes. Gadzooks! Someone do the conversion on that. It must be nearly as expensive as buying gas in Canada!

I mentioned that my first one-act play was being read at a local festival and I must say, the event itself went quite well. We had a great audience, though because my script was read first, the actors were rather cold and it took a little while to get into rhythm. The woman I was most worried about (she didn't come to any rehearsals) proved my fears accurate by sitting very stiffly, leaving her hair in her face and reading like a computer. Oh well. One bit of feedback said that it was a “clever” play. Yay! I was going for clever and subtle. Phillip pointed out that I blew subtle out of the water. Heh. Well, one out of two isn't bad, right? If you'd like to read the script, you can email me. It's still a work in progress, so I'm you know... working on it.

Since then, I've started a new script for a ten minute play competition somewhere in middle America. They have posted their call for submissions with the theme of “Lone Shoe”. To explain, they are looking for short plays that might answer the question of those random shoes one sees every now and then, lonely and abandoned at the side of the road. Where did it come from? How did it get there? What's its story? I found the question amusing, so started writing. The deadline for submissions is February, so the Aspire Collective (the playwrights group I'm in) will be working on individual pieces that we can critique and edit before sending off. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

My dear friend of approximately twenty years, Lisa, came to stay with us for a week at the end of September and we had a great time. She was shown the usual San Diego attractions: Old Town, Little Italy, La Jolla, Balboa Park and the Zoo, Torrey Pines State Park and beach and we also drove up to Six Flags theme park. We also, of course, did some shopping and generally had a great time scooting around town and eating too much junk food. Good times. We highly recommend it to anyone who wishes to come south for a visit. That said, book soon! Phillip and I are planning a getaway at Christmastime to Las Vegas. Classic, no?

Lisa even came with me to the dentist where I had a cleaning appointment. Of course it was still regarded with trepidation, because rarely is a trip to the dentist JUST a cleaning for me. As feared, a cavity was discovered via x-ray, having formed underneath a very old filling. Because the old filling has to be removed, and the tooth beside it is already repaired and somewhat delicate, it will be a big, double crown job that will take two hours. This probably means I'll be in the torture-chair for at least three hours. Someone please just put me out out of my misery! I swear, I am starting to sympathize with my father's choice to have all his teeth pulled out.
Anyway, I hastily agreed to the first appointment I was given and skedaddled out of there. Unfortunately, when the day rolled around, I panicked and didn't go. Now we have a bill for seventy-five dollars for a “broken appointment”. Call me crazy, but that seems a little excessive to me. Yes, I broke an appointment, but bloody hell, I've spent more time in that office than many spend in pergatory and our insurance is literally tapped out for dentistry (over $2,500.00 at last count). That dentist is the devil and her staff are vile minions.

Last week, a new friend, Mary, invited me to a independent short-film premiere in which she starred. It was being presented at a hip new club downtown called “Thin” (entirely appropriate for the clubby girls of this city), but which won my heart by having eighteen year old Macallan's whiskey on the shelf. The bartender, seemingly surprised at actually selling an ounce of booze for fourteen dollars, poured me a double at no extra charge. Yay!

The film was cute and funny and Mary was hilarous – one of her special talents (revealed in the gag reels) is making her throat puff up like a bullfrog, I tell ya, this girl is going places. Anyway, we didn't get a chance to chat much, since she was busily working the room, so I finished my one drink and left with promises to call about a dozen people I barely know. Hopping on my scooter, I squinted into the maze of one-way streets in my search for the one that went North without being cut off by the highway.

Because of this confusion of directions, I made a mistake, turning left from a one-way onto what I thought was another one-way, but was in fact a normal street on which I was now the wrong side. I quickly corrected my mistake without any problems, since it was a relatively quiet Wednesday night. I would not have made the mistake if I had seen traffic going back and forth, but the only car on the road just then happened to be a police officer. He flashed his lights and made a U-turn, pulling up behind me. I was so surprised I did one of those “who, me?” gestures before pulling over. Big sigh.

The cop didn't buy my confused look, assuming I was playing dumb. (I was, but only a little.) The problem was that he accused me of being “impatient” about the pedestrians who had crossed in front of me before I turned into the left lane – legal, I remind you, if the street had been one way as I thought it was. I was being a “hothead on a motorbike” who was driving recklessly now. I was aghast at the injustice of his accusation. Really.

One of my rants about this city – Phillip will confirm this, is that drivers have no respect for pedestrians and routinely pull into an intersection while one is still crossing the street. One of the most impressive lessons from my driving course was to NEVER take your foot off the brake when a pedestrian is in front of your car. Now I was being accused of purposefully breaking the law because I couldn't wait for two people to cross in front of me. I insisted on being allowed to explain.

The officer had a poker face, so I gave him my explanation and papers (praying he wouldn't notice alcohol on my breath or the expired stickers on my plate) and waited while he disappeared into his car. When he came back, he explained that I had a court date in November and an unknown amount for a fine.

“So you didn't believe me when I said I made a mistake?” I asked glumly.

“I took your word for it and charged you for the lesser infraction.” Said Mr. Poker Face. I sighed.

So my very first traffic ticket EVER. Crossing the double line on a turn. Unknown ticket amount. Fourteen years of a perfect record down the tubes. Bleh. I'm going to fight it of course. I think one mistake on a quiet street hardly rates the over $250+ fine we're likely to pay – I asked a friend about the amount, and if anyone disagrees with me, I don't want to hear it. I'm not a hothead on a motorbike. Hell, I'm usually the pedestrian shaking my fist at the hotheads. I will let you all know how this little drama continues...

Halloween is fast approaching – my favourite day, and this year, Phillip and I are going “vintage”. Since Qualcomm is hosting its usual decadent bash this month, we decided to have a little fun with it and buy vintage clothing (not costumes) in which to attend. I am now the proud owner of a flapper-style dress – actually from the sixties, with delightful fringe down its length and rhinestone-decked straps, and Phillip is dashing in a grey pin-striped suit and suspenders with matching fedora. Snazzy! We'll take pictures.

Okay, I think I've gone on long enough. Thanks to those of you who replied to my last post. I apologize if I have not replied yet. I love to hear from you, it's just been like hills and valleys for me lately. Kisses all around!

K.

Streaming Audio at work Good or Evil?

I use it a lot so I can block out other people hallway conversations, and those who insist on having long speakerphone conversations with their doors open. I have co-workers who used to have speakerphone conversations when their offices were across the hall from each other. I could hear the echo of him saying it, then it coming out of her speakerphone. If they'd spoke a little loudly they could have done without the phone entirely.

The only reason this struck me was that I waited two minutes before going to a meeting so I could finish listening to Gordon Lightfoot's Canadian Railroad Trilogy. How could I not? That man has a way of writing very long songs :P The downside to tagging Gordon Lightfoot as a favourite is that Pandora keeps trying to make me listen to other artists like Jim Croce, who I have no interest in. Pandora is the free streaming music that Ben at work pointed me to, I used to listen to either Yahoo music or di.fm trance. The adds annoyed me for Yahoo music and Pandora has more options that pure trance from di.fm

Just finished watching a Train show, a corporate concert ... they played at a EMC corporate event that I happen to be at (EMC bought Documentum, the application I know very well). I heard from somebody in the audience that they were paid $25,000 to do the concert and they don't need to bring any of their own equipment. Nice job. They played a couple songs that I knew, then I left (yes, I left a free concert after it was halfway done).

Meet Virginia which oddly enough reminded me of An Emotional Fish song ... and I don't really remember where I heard of those guys, but I own the album (the An Emotional Fish album, not the Train album). I have to admit they knew the age of their audience because they played a cover of ramble on, sadly that was the one song I really enjoyed and hell, that song was released the same year I was born!

Most corporate events remind me of the scene from Roller Ball where the main character goes to a party for the rich corporate elite. Every time I go to one of these things (and that includes the Qualcomm Year End parties) I keep waiting for the revolution to happen and the poor to rise up and annihilate everyone. Too many bad sci-fi films in my youth.

Heh, I have to wonder why two of my references were from before I was nine.

Post From Anaheim
I now have access to the blog, bad things may happen.

I'm in Anaheim (if you couldn't figure that out from the title) for a Documentum conference. Last year it was in Las Vegas (woo!) this year it is in Anaheim (sounds of crickets). The only good thing is that I could take the motorcycle here instead of flying. One hour forty minutes of being on the bike and I find that I've stuff in my eye at 65mph (snuck under my full face helmet!) and loss of feeling in my hands. The benefit? I do love the smell of Southern California, and the ability to accelerate. By the way, for all of you thinking 'The smell of southern california?' you must come visit and get a good lungful when you get off the plan in San Diego.

Oh yeah, Disney Land is here ... and by here I mean three blocks away. I've been here three hours and if I see one more mickey mouse ballon, it's exceeded my kitch level for this year.

Good things about being in a hotel: Travel channel, and Adult Swim, and the joy of time shifting. Time shifting means that they play shows that usually end up at 1am EST at 10pm PST. Since I'm sitting in a hotel room very far away from anything interesting, I'm watching television. Isn't that what one does while doing business travel? Yes I could be checking my email and finding out the health of some of the systems I'm responsible for ... meh. The travel channel has grabbed my attention with travel to deep Indonesia and the islands of Java. I have to admit that some of the shots remind me of the cloud forest in Peru.

There was a chance of me heading off to Korea for work reasons, but that doesn't look like it is going to happen. I just found out that if I was to go I would need to do so in six days ... I'm not going to get a Visa in that short a time so it looks like it isn't going to happen. Brent (my immediate boss) has mentioned that I'll probably be able to sneak some travel in some time soon. I can wait.

A big hello out to Lincoln and Deb. They've arrived in London and they're getting all settled. Lincoln has met some VPs and Directors in Delloite and Touche. They've decided not to rent a more expensive flat near some green space because it is a little too expensive ... they're so self-centered. Where are Kat and I supposed to stay while we're there?

Why is everything that sounds yummy from Indonesia come with coconut milk?

Kat has asked me to link in some pictures from Peru, so here they

Peru Trip

Jul 11, 2006 - 103 Photos

Don't even say it. I know what you're thinking, and you're right. I agree wholeheartedly. Now that we've got that over with, let's move on...

I had a great visit in Ottawa and the Eastern Townships last month. The flight up was not great, despite my being cozily ensconced in buisniess class. You see, I have great difficulty sleeping on a plane, don't ask me why, though in this case, it may have had something to do with the snoring Japanese businessman beside me who reeked so badly of alchohol fumes, that I was glad that no one would be using a lighter onboard. *woosh!* I could picture it...

Anyway, Steph picked me up at the airport and I was only too happy to settle into the spare bedroom shortly after arrival to revive myself with a two-hour nap. Amazing what a few zzz's can do for one's mental alertness. Of course, I don't think Steph would have let me drive without it. ;)

It was nice to hang out for a few days, visiting and visiting, eating and visiting some more. There are babies galore and happy parents and granparents and me, the fabulous aunty. Heheh, I think I'll have cards made up. Everyone looked good and it was such a pleasure to be surrounded by friends and family again, if only for a short while.

I owe Steph a huge thanks *blows kisses* for the loan of the little Honda Civic ("it goes") to drive down East and all over Bolton Center, Mansonville, Stukely and beyond. It saved us a bundle of money and came with a book of CD's! "Blessed is the compact disc, for it shall deliver thee from the monotony of radio." On the way back to Ottawa, unfortunately, the weather was so terrible (BUCKETS of rain) that I could not spare the attention to change the disk for about two hours. As a result, Sarah McLaughlan's "Building a Mystery" album was etched into my brain for over a week after I got home. Poor Phillip was an innocent bystander and victim to my perpetual humming and did not go unscathed.

The flight back was much nicer, and it was good to come home to a husband (and a pooch) that missed me. Granted, Phillip was slightly less effusive in his greetings. He didn't try to lick my face even once. Scuttle was her usual self... "Oh. Were you away? I didn't notice."

The weather here has settled into a very pleasant string of days ranging in the mid to low 20's. Ahhhh! I must admit. The climate has grown on me, like a barnacle. No seriously, I remember when we first arrived saying "so what?!" about San Diego's fabled moderate temperatures, but now I gripe if it hovers too long near 30 or if I have to wear a sweater to go out at night. We're spoiled, I admit it. Still, that doesn't mean I don't miss the snow, but I think I've adopted Phillip's practical attitude; if we want, we can visit the snow.

Speaking of which, I don't know how many of you we've broken the news to, but after reviewing Phillip's time off schedule and our finances, we realize that we were hasty in our assertion that we would be visiting for Christmas this year, and for that, our apologies. As much as we'd both love to, it really isn't feasible this year. I'm bummed about this, for several reasons, as you might guess, but on the upside, we are going to be here for the cold months and throwing wide our doors to anyone who wishes to drop in for a visit. The only time we will be away will be a few days in December to go to Vegas for some shows, and then in March for Joan's birthday weekend in Florida. :) Looking forward to both!

Well, this has gone on long enough. I hope to hear back from you when you have a minute. Take care, be well!