I'd just like to take a minute to pat myself on the back

The God of Green-thumbery has finally decided to cut me some slack. I woke up yesterday, and voila! Flowers! And more flowers! On my tiny terrace garden! Behold!

 

 

 

I'd started to believe that the only way I could have a green thumb was if I belonged to Shrek's family. And now after this, I'm all like, Hey, Martha Stewart, eat your heart out!

Those schoolgirl days (of telling tales and biting nails are gone...)

I was in the 9th grade, I think, when puberty really kicked in and everyone went haywire. The girls wanted to be noticed, so they tried to get away with the shortest skirts and the smallest socks to give the illusion of the longest legs. I knew this guy who actually tied a small mirror to his shoelaces to try and look up girls' skirts. I can tell you, THAT did not go down very well. But my point is, at least boys and girls were just being themselves and doing what their hormones dictated. The thrill was in trying to see what you could get away with. And nowadays, well, things are different, to say the least. This is a billboard I see on my way to work everyday -

It seems to just scream, 'Send your daughters to us and we'll turn them into just what you've always dreamed of for them--Deepal Shaw wannabes.'

All I know is that if I'd worn a short skirt and stockings to school, the principal would've probably ordered me to be hanged until death, with my own stockings, from the school's clock-tower.
I can just picture the mothers of teenage boys lining up to get their sons into this school. Yeah.

Just like Bo

A while back, a girlfriend's status update read as 'I like it on the corner of the dining table', and another one followed with, 'I like it on the smooth marble floor in my living room.' I have to say, that the the first time I read something like that, I was pretty shocked. I'd like to think that I'm as open-minded as the next person, but that status update was from a girl who actually bakes brownies, and sings in the church choir, you know?

And then I thought, 'Hmmm...that's pretty progressive, isn't it? If these girls are being so open and forthright, why an I being such a prude?' So I thought about it for a while. Hmmm...how about...no, too much information. What about...ew, no! So I wrote-- 'I like it in the shower.'

B, bless her soul, was online at that moment, and popped up in the chat window-'Why would you want to put your handbag in the shower?' I was, like, huh? And then she sent me a message that proves beyond all doubt that on the imbecility scale of 1 to 10, I am a perfect 10. I am the Bo Derek of the imbeciles. She said, 'The original question that every woman needs to answer as her status update, is where is your favourite place to keep your handbag? And you like to keep yours in the shower??' And even though I was turning a deep shade of red and hyperventilating in embarrassment at that moment, and though I couldn't actually see it, I know that last sentence definitely involved an eye-roll.

Then, as an afterthought, she added, 'Babe, I do love you, but you're an idiot sometimes.'

P.S-For the record, I'd like to state that I like to keep my handbag on the non-kinky sidetable next to my bed. Just so you know.

How Google got me the day off

So I'm sitting at my desk at work, all furrowed of brow and foul of mood, and I suddenly burst out laughing. My co-workers scamper to my side and peer at my screen to read what they assume is the joke that someone has forwarded me, but they see me cracking up at...the Google homepage?

They back out of my workspace slowly, keeping an eye on me the whole time, and hurry towards my boss's cabin to ask him if maybe, just maybe, he can make me take a forced vacation, because I'm finally falling off the deep end.

Google really cracks me up sometimes. Especially in the middle of a crappy day, when I need to find an important bit of information, I would naturally turn to trusty ol' Google, right? And barely do I type in 'How to' and I get the following screen---

How to get pregnant? Hmmm...yes, yes. I really need Google to teach me how. You'd think that I'd have figured it out by now, living in a country with a population of 1.21 billion. And kids today would much read about how to kiss on Google, rather than fumble through the saliva-fest that is their first kiss, behind the school auditorium. I also want Google to teach me---get this, get this, to GAIN weight, because it's not enough, I suspect, that I have a metabolism that helps my body to ingest fat particles straight out of the air that I breathe and deposits them on my hips. And an invaluable skill that every person must possess is TO KNOW HOW TO HACK A FACEBOOK ACCOUNT. In case you get so psyched that somebody's actually looking up how to do that right at this very moment as you're reading this, and you no longer want to even be on facebook anymore because of all the crazies out there, then there's HOW TO DELETE A FACEBOOK ACCOUNT right below that. How very convenient.

The funniest thing that happened, though, was that my boss came in and peeped in over my shoulder while I was chuckling to myself and then called me into his cabin and gave me 4 days off next week to 'regroup' , which when translated into Crazyspeak means 'to regain your grip on reality, woman!'

Excuse me, can you bring me the Reality Check please?

Last month, when I read the last post of Derek Miller, the waterworks turned themselves on. That's the thing with me. My heart is an ocean, and I can never really accurately predict who will get to swim in it. And what is it about dying that really fills me up? And what is it about dying too soon, before one's time, with so much left to do, and no time to do it? What is it about being full of dreams and plans, and the will and desire to grab life by the collar and shake it up and say,"I'm here for a short while, and we've got a load of stuff to do, so let's get started, and make it count!" but sometimes not having the opportunity to do it all?

And cancer-it's so insidious. You wouldn't even know that you had it, while you're putting things off for later, for when you're older, or richer, or have more time, or when you presume you'll be happier, it's quietly eating you up inside. I can only imagine the rage, the bitterness, and the sense of betrayal, the unfairness of it all. I have known a strong, wonderful woman, who loved her family and her life fiercely, and battled this bravely. I have seen her struggle up close.The struggle to stand and face it with grace and dignity, while her hair fell out, while she lost her appetite.While she turned weak and emaciated, and her skin turned like paper, and she looked like a ghost of her former self. In the end, the cancer won. Derek Miller talks about how he had to start wearing adult diapers, and sign his own DNR (Do Not Resuscitate form) and how he actually wished he could choose which season to die in.

So when I'm feeling all 'woe-is-me' and not having a particularly good day, and I'm griping and moaning about how rough I've got it, I go back to Derek Miller's page where he writes...

A wondrous place

The world, indeed the whole universe, is a beautiful, astonishing, wondrous place. There is always more to find out. I don't look back and regret anything, and I hope my family can find a way to do the same.

What is true is that I loved them. Lauren and Marina(his daughters), as you mature and become yourselves over the years, know that I loved you and did my best to be a good father.

Airdrie (his wife), you were my best friend and my closest connection. I don't know what we'd have been like without each other, but I think the world would be a poorer place. I loved you deeply, I loved you, I loved you, I loved you.

And in my heart I know that there are people who love me deeply too. They love me, love me, love me. Then I look into the mirror and need to say to myself, "Perspective, Baby. Get some."