But this week Stefan is sick - fever, coughing, phlegm, the works. I've tried to stay away, but you know, we do just live in a one bedroom loft. Total lack of contact is not possible. Plus he has a no sleeping apart (unless we're out of the country) rule. The result?
Now I'm sick.
Which means, I can't even visit my mama, who is recovering from being sick. Do you see what you've done? I hope you feel very guilty, Stefan...
Sorry for the late posting. Something is up with our server back home so I couldn't even get the last entry to post properly until now.
The weather here has been so weird. Sunny and warm for half an hour, chilly but clear skies for two hours and then rain. By the time we get to another street, the rain has stopped. It's a good thing we both tend to dress in layers.
Paris is a wonderful city to walk in. A little hard to navigate due to all the windy small streets but just a joy all the same. You feel like there is the possibility of discovery - some wonderful boutique, sight or patisserie at the end of the street.
I thought I would share some of my own observations so far. If they are untrue, please feel free to correct me.
Parisians must learn how to parallel park from the time that they're in kindergarten. The streets here are so very narrow and there doesn't ever seem to be such a thing as a parking lot around due to the lack of space. Sometimes, they even park facing each other! It's the oddest sight to behold. It's almost like you can't own a big car here because where would you park?
We woke up to a very light rain in Paris. As we walked towards the nearest Metro, we saw people who were carrying bunches of flowers and pulling their personal shopping carts. They were obviously doing their weekend shopping. I had been told by a number of friends who lived in Paris that French people have very small fridges in their kitchens. This is mainly due to lack of space but also to the philosophy that everything they cook has to be fresh. So people do food shopping often. The fridge in our rented apartment is a size of what a regular cupboard space at home would be. I have to say that I really like the philosophy of eating fresh, buying produce regularly.
Then we passed by the local marche. If the local marche doesn't inspire you to cook or eat fresh every day, nothing will. Food is displayed in such a glorious manner. It makes me want to move here. Such a silly reason for uprooting everything I know and love, but a country that loves, fosters the love of food (among many other things) has much to recommend them.
We then headed off to the Bastille Market. Even though we were running a little late, it was curious to see that the market was closing up so soon. It turned out that we were actually an hour behind; we had forgotten about the daylight savings time in Paris. Regardless, we managed to see some really cool stalls. The seafood here is unreal. If we did not have other things to see or do, I would have bought a whole bunch and taken it back to our apartment to devour.
We were so tired by all the walking and lack of sleep that we pretty much fell asleep as soon as we got settled in our seats on the Eurostar. If we were living in the UK and making pounds and not dollars, I would be going to Paris every weekend! The train ride was very quick and so inexpensive.
We had rented an apartment in the Latin Quarter but we were confused as to where to pick up the keys. The agency we rented it from had just inserted a standard reply (to pick up keys from them) but also gave us other instructions to pick up our keys at the apartment (due to our late arrival). Because English was not their first language, queries via emails were a little ambiguous.
So here we were, in the City of Lights, tired, dirty, travel weary and hungry (we all know, I don't deal well with hunger...hungry soon amounts to hangry...) and had no idea where to go. On our part, I am ashamed that neither of us took our high school French more seriously. I would understand parts of instructions but not enough. There is no reason not to learn more especially since officially, Canada is a bilingual country. I am so enrolling myself in classes when I return.
So did I mention that we had a bit of a yuck flight across the pond? It was more than a little yuck, it was actually a lot yuck. For some reason, perhaps it being an older plane, there was just no way we could contort our bodies to get comfortable. On top of it all, the cabin was so unbearably hot, to the point of discomfort. I can say that I fly quite a bit and I have never, ever had to take my socks & sweater off, roll my jeans up to my knees and just sit there uncomfortably in a tank.
It basically meant Stefan and I were starting a brand new day in London after pulling an all-nighter in a sweltering sardine can. It made our tempers with each other a little short throughout the day.
We arrived at Heathrow and I was quite shocked to see how run down it looked. I am sure the other terminals must be nicer but the one we arrived in was quite shabby. Stefan breezed through customs with his British passport, although I think they questioned why he had a British one and I had a Canadian one. If only I didn't need to live in the UK for 5 years before being able to apply for dual citizenship, I would definitely have gotten one as we plan to have more vacations in Europe.
We took the underground to King's Cross where we were to pick up our tickets for the Eurostar to Paris. It was surprisingly easy although I found the compartments quite small in comparison to our subways at home. Stefan's head was almost touching the top of the doors. The only issue we had were our bags. I can't figure out whether we (more Stef because his clothes take up so much more room) packed too much or whether we were using the wrong bags. They were not fun to lug around. Next time we go away, I shall heed my friend's motto of "pack light, freeze at night."
I promised my parents that I would write about what I am seeing and doing on my vacation as I did, all those years ago (pre-blog but one of many reasons that I started LBG) when I was traveling in Australia and Asia.
So here goes.
Enroute...
Our plane ride that seemed chock full of "school trippers" was unexpectedly calm. You never know with the mini humans between the ages of 10 and 18. They always seem like gamboling, overexcited, overgrown puppies. I am allowed to say this because I was once one of them.
We experienced some minor turbulence while having our very "lovely" melted plastic plane dinner. I am convinced airplanes can do better with food. After all, I traveled on Singapore Airlines when I went out east and the food was quite good. I don't understand why Air Canada cannot do the same.
I need to go through my categories and streamline them I think.
How do people come up with just a few?
Anyway, I thought I would come up with this new one because you would think after two years of marriage-ness I would be well equipped to deal with it. Alas, I think I will always be in my perpetual state of selfishness and competition to ever really be the type of lifetime companion people dream about. The good thing is that Stefan knows this trait of mine well and finds it vastly amusing.
I was reading him excerpts from MetroDad, a new addition to my RSS feeds when I mentioned once again, how I wish he had a blog.
"What would you do if I did start one and it all of a sudden became really popular?"
Silence.
"I would be SO angry!!"
"I know you would be. That's why I haven't started one. You'd think it was a big competition"
I hate to admit it but he's right. Gad, I really need to get over this competitiveness with Stefan...
I cannot believe that it is our second wedding anniversary already! I can't believe because I am still not used to the idea of you-us-forever. If you think about it, marriage, taken seriously with the thought of forever can be a daunting thought.
The truth is, this year wasn't all rosy. A few close friends ended marriages or long term commitments. To say that these turbulences in our friends' lives don't affect our own would be a lie. You start to question things, issues that were underlying within our own relationship gets brought into the surface. Every time one of our friends' relationships ended, we'd have a couple of sour days following.
Because I have a real bad case of this and it's compounded by Mr. "Hey! Let's Just Go With The Flow".
What is this? A fear of running out of toilet paper.
I'm usually the one in charge of getting personal items such as toothpaste, toilet paper, etc from Shoppers. Not for any other reason other than I love browsing in drug stores. Stefan, however, is in charge of letting me know when these things run out.
For some reason, he thinks it's a game to see how long we can last on that last roll of toilet paper while it causes me no ends of distress. Once, I was down to the last square and it was not fun. Now when I see there's only one roll left, I'm like a starving person wondering when my next meal will be. Stef just laughs and reminds me that there is a drugstore just down the street from us.
I can't decide whether I am just a needless worrier or whether he's too carefree in this situation. Or whether this is just a boy-girl thing because boys only use toilet paper when they need to poop.
This song has been running through my head all week even though it has NOTHING to do with our situation, other than the title. We've been living in Ikea hell for the past week. Stefan keeps saying that he doesn't know why it's also "my" hell since he's been doing all the work. But he doesn't understand that his frustrations and moaning over the project has been grating on my already irritable nerves.
And really, I have no reason to be irritable. After all, this project has been in part, mainly for me and my burgeoning collection of books. I love to buy books. I still go to the library tons but I love to re-read books so I buy books that I know I will want to experience again. Unfortunately, there are a lot of those.
So I've mentioned before that when our schedules suddenly become very busy, Mama Kang comes to the rescue with home cooked meals already in our freezer. She's lovely, that Mama Kang BUT does she really have to love the White Boy so very much?
I know, I know.
I have issues with sharing my parents' love with my family. I will openly share their love with my friends but when family is involved I get really possessive or competitive about it. Call it "youngest-child-only-girl" syndrome. I just want to point out that I didn't get like this with the sister-in-law though, cos you know, I dig her. That, and she married one of my dumb brothers. Let's just give credit where credit is due.
Mama and Papa Kang are planing to go visit the Big Bro in the Big Apple. So what does Mama Kang do? She's making sure White Boy has enough food while she's gone. Not extra food for the both of us, JUST White Boy.
What the hella, man? What sweet nothings has he been whispering into her gullible ear, I wonder? Because whatever it is, it's gotta stop.
Have I mentioned that when Stefan and I play scrabble, he is always flummoxed by the words I use. I must say there is a great benefit to reading many types of literature because it exposes you to a broader vocabulary. Stef quite hates it when I trump him on the definitions as well.
Words used so far that have exasperated him - Biota, Baryte, Cox and finally Woo.
"What is this woo business?"
"You know to woo me, to seek favour..."
"Hmph! I am never going to woo you again after this..."
We apologize for the delay and lack of posts as of late. There has been an ongoing dispute between the Creative/Writing team and Technical Support at Little Bitty Girl. The Creative/Writing team is currently bored with current masthead design and therefore is not inspired to post any new thoughts. However, the Technical team is not inspired by the newest design submitted by the Creative team and refuses to change current masthead. There have been negotiations on both sides but so far no resolution has been made.
Until then, there will be minimal written entries. We thank you for your ongoing support and emails and we ask you to please forward your complaints to the Technical support team so that we can resolve this issue quickly.
Remember how I said Stefan and I don't travel well? Turns out that I was wrong. See? I can really admit when I am wrong, it's just that it doesn't happen very often. So this is what I discovered. Stef and I definitely have different attitudes when it comes to travel. I have a whole routine when I get to the airport while Stef likes to just meander through. I definitely need to have various options when it comes to what will keep my A.D.Dness occupied on a plane. Stef couldn't understand why I needed to buy another book when I already had two. Turns out, I didn't like one of the books I brought and I finished one of my books on the plane. It was 2 minutes of grumpy time for Stef who had told me not to buy a book at the airport.
We actually were fine in the plane. I sort of treat Stefan like my own personal Gumby (sans the green rubber), bending his limbs to suit my personal comfort. Yes, this is one of the few times when being small in stature really helps.
Anyway, how did the worlds colliding go? Better than expected. They both hugged and then proceeded to keep throwing random barbs and jibes at each other. All in a very good natured way. Ryo looked perplexed when she first met me and used one of my hands as a personal towel to wipe some dribbling drool off her face. She spent our first night acting shy, and hiding around Jenna. She would shoot me death stares but around Stefan, she would flash "beautiful eyes" and smile coyly. This was completely disconcerting to me.
Luckily this morning when Ryo woke up and was brought to say "Good morning" to Uncle Stef, she was completely bewildered by his presence and would sort of cry. All is good in my world again.
Today, at around 8:15 pm west coast time, my worlds are going to collide. Stefan and Marie have never met each other and today is the day that they do. People always think it's so weird that they haven't met despite the fact that I have known Marie for so long. The reason is because Marie only ever comes out east when she does the trade shows in NY and I tend to go out west for work. The one time when she did come to Toronto, Stefan was out of town. Also, my friendship and love for Marie has grown over time, the old fashioned way - emails and phone calls. There was never a circumstance when they would meet.
Over the years, the two of them seemed to have developed a love-hate relationship. Marie, who is soft spoken with a razor wit sense of sarcasm, loves to butt heads or opinions (usually conveyed through me via emails or phone calls) with Stefan who can never resist teasing a girlfriend. Neither one is more of an instigator than the other, they both do it the same amount. It can be quite funny to witness the various barbs and zingers they lob at each other. But part of me worries that they really won't get along. They both are equally important in my life.
But, I figure they're both adults and they'll work it out. As for me, I'll be hanging out with this little person, trying to make her do more of what she's doing in the video below.
Oh, the sudden heatwave is overwhelming but I guess it hasn't been THAT bad since Mindy is not yet dead. She has however, been more lethargic and very needy. My temper has definitely been shorter than usual so hence the reason for the tone of this post.
Stefan and I are getting ready to go on a trip to Vancouver. Stefan is playing Aussie Rules Footy against the U.S and I get to visit the West Coast family. I am a little worried since even though Stef and I have traveled together, we have not flown much together. We tend to take separate flights for circumstantial reasons. I like to go early to airports and not feel rushed, Stef likes to be his usual lackadaisical self and thinks it's an "adventure" if we get anywhere barely on time. It drives me bonkers.
The one thing that we do have in common is that we both like the apartment to be spotless before we go anywhere. There is nothing worse than coming home on a long flight to a place looking like a war zone, which is the current state of the loft right now. I tend to do "deep cleans" whereas Stefan does "surface cleaning." So last night before he came home, I told him that although it may not look like much has been done, it had as I had done a lot of dusting.
Stefan doesn't believe in dusting, or at least he never thinks that the place ever warrants it. Sometimes, I seriously think that he thinks I am making the "dusting" part up. Little does he know that the reason why there are never inches of dust around the apartment is that I dust quite frequently. I will take books off shelves, wipe them clean and arrange them back. Heck! I even dust the plants. Does he think the dust fairy just goes around and cleans stuff up? You cannot live with a cat, in the downtown core with the windows open without copious amounts of dust coming in.
As I am writing this, he's looked at me with his little boy eyes and asking me not to complain about him. He gets me EVERY time.
7 years! I can barely believe it. Do you feel the itch? I don't feel one at all. If anything you enthrall and interest me more and more everyday. You're always making me laugh, assuring me when I need it, and you constantly challenge my mind. Knowing my A.D.D-ness, you would have thought that I would have gotten distracted by now, but you still completely fascinate me. What I appreciate most of all, is that you make sure that I begin every day and end every night knowing that I am loved.
I got my teeth cleaned today after not going for almost a year. What can I say? I'm the type of person that needs to be harassed repeatedly before I go. It's not that I hate going to the dentist, I just can't be bothered to remember appointments so far ahead in time. I can barely remember my anniversary or birthdays for Pete's sake.
I've never really understood people's fear of dentists. Even as a child I was so fascinated by all the gee gads that dentists have. It also helps that I've always had very nice, funny dentists. I usually lie there and if the appointment is early enough, I can almost fall asleep.
People say it's also because I have never had issues with my teeth. Only three cavities in the 29 years of my life. I can't help but crow over this fact because I am really, really lazy with dental hygiene. I only floss when I remember and I sometimes fall asleep at night without brushing. I hear dentists everywhere gasping with horror.
On the other hand, Stef is every dentist's dream. He brushes all the time and flosses like a maniac. He always has issues with his teeth. He's convinced my dentist is a quack for never finding any problems.
Sometimes, (very rarely) the fates just like to take my side.
Stefan, like all boys, doesn't usually listen to me. That's to say, he'll hear me chatter but sometimes not all the information filters in. That's not really unusual or insulting, as I wouldn't listen to me as well if I lived with me. I always feel like my brain is on "Operation Overtime" in comparison to those around me. Smells, sights, memories tend to trigger random tangents and I usually like to filter my thoughts out aloud (usually to those close around me, but mostly to Stefan) so it's no wonder that it's tough for the boy to follow.
Once Amy witnessed one of my random thoughts exchanges with Stefan during brunch. After I bounced around several topics ranging from politics, to medieval ideas of society, I finally came to my point. Stefan was nodding and giving me his opinions in his own quiet way when I glanced at Amy. She was all agog and just exclaimed,"What was that?!" to Stef. He just shrugged and said, "That's how she thinks. See how difficult my life can be?" and just kept on eating.
I fell asleep to the sweet melodious sounds of hockey commentating again last night. There's nothing so peaceful or makes you want to poke your eye out with an ice cream scoop more. It's bad enough that they have two games on simultaneously so that Stefan has to maniacally flick between both stations but to make things even BETTER, right after the Eastern games are done, the Western games start. The joy!
So here is my two cents (because I have to have a theory on everything, whether or not I really give a shit) for NHL coaches out there on how to win the playoffs - get the best goalie.
Here's why -
One has to assume that by the time all the other teams are eliminated and your team has actually made it to the playoffs, that the rest of the teams are more or less on the same playing (skills-wise) field. Some teams will have better defense players and others will have better offence players but it all relatively evens out. After all, no one really gets to the playoffs on a complete fluke (except if Boston ever makes it in). In the end, the only thing stopping you from getting that tin can cup is your goalie. If you had two evenly talented teams and Team A has Martin Brodeur and Team B has Tim Thomas, who do you really think is going to win?
I'm just saying, is all.
Now that I've given you the "secret" to winning, maybe you can do me a favour:
Hockey season should end if 90% of all the teams' home cities no longer have snow or ice on the ground.
There should be less teams in the league.
Broadcasting of games should always be silent and only streamed through the internet.
Go on strike. Forever. (That was the best year of my life)
Before you get all judgmental on me, I want to make it clear that I love Stefan very, very much. I really do honor the vows we made to one another, I appreciate the gesture he made when he put my ring on my finger. I do understand the importance of what it all means. I really do love my band and feel quite naked without it.
I want you to know that I never lose my band on purpose. I've never been able to wear any type of jewelry for long periods of time. Even in my teenage years when I thought I was Henry VIII and wore numerous rings on every finger, I always needed to take everything off as soon as I got home.
Plus, have you seen my ring? For one thing, it's not the most practical thing to wear when you're cleaning the bathroom or massaging herbs into a whole chicken. It's also pretty darn heavy. My left hand probably has the same strength as my right hand now that I've been wearing it over the year.
Have I already mentioned how much I hate hockey? I don't think I say it enough to make my point clear. I really, really, really hate hockey. It's getting to the point where I think I must move somewhere where no hockey is played to ensure no probability of future progeny playing or watching the sport. I am pretty sure they have no ice in the Maldives.
I seriously thought that since the Toronto Maple Leafs were out of the playoffs, there would be some reprieve. But alas, there was a playoff hockey pool that took place at home last Tuesday, making sure that all guys involved would stay involved for the rest of the season.
What I can't understand is how are morning hockey highlights any different from highlights the night before that we need to watch both with such avid intensity. If you hear that Stefan's gone to live with my parents for the rest of the playoff season, it's because I've sent him there. They find his love for hockey very "quaint" and my mum gets an on site food taster.
The weekend started off with Stefan being in the dog house for reasons that we won't go over right now. He's out of the dog house now and is currently happily situated in a place called "Sucking Up". All I can say is that boys can just be so DUMB sometimes. I spent a good day contemplating how lesbians are so lucky because at least they're all playing on the same mental playing field.
Despite the slow start to our long weekend, we are ending it off with a bang. Please meet "Mitsuko" the newest member in our family. She joins big sister "Millie" my 20G ipod and "Max" Stefan's ipod mini. We're slowly building our family of Apple gadgets. I have no idea why they all have names starting with "M".
So far the transition has been pretty smooth. I've been slowly migrating my info from the old clunker to this one. The reason why it's been slow is because "clunker" is unbearably slow. But as soon as the transfer begins, it's been pretty lightning fast on Mitsuko's end. The learning curve hasn't been as painful as I expected, although this will most likely change as I add iWork and Creative Suite onto this.
Some people have asked whether the macbook was a part of Stefan "making up" but no, I didn't even think about asking. This is purely my private purchase. I know we're supposed to share stuff now that we're married, but I especially don't like to share (I know, it's bad, I am working on this) technology. It's the Asian in me, I like to have my own technological toys. Stef may borrow it to test his stuff once in awhile but other than that, Mitsuko is for my own play.
Stef did clean the toilet today though, which you all know that to me, is a great way to make up.
As I mentioned fairly recently my parents live really close to me now. So close that walking over EVERY day for a Mama Kang home cooked meal is plausible. Stefan sometimes quips that I am taking advantage of my parent's closeness by raiding their fridge too much, but as usual he doth protest too much.
After all, my mother times HIS separate meals (because he really is THAT picky about food and my mother is convinced that when he's home, I chain Stefan to the old rotting radiators and feed him nothing but stale bread and water) to be ready just as soon as he walks in. Not only does he get an instant dinner, my mother also PACKS him a lunch. It's getting so bad that my mother who has developed a recent allergy to gluten will still bake him cakes daily, despite the fact that she can no longer eat it herself.
That, and I also get daily lectures from my father and mother that I have to not "bully" Stefan while he looks at them with his sad puppy dog eyes and asks why TSN is not in high definition on my dad's giant TV. I don't know what type of "bullying" they think I can really do to that stubborn giddy goat of a man that I married. Plus, he's twice my size and weight.
Then, there is also the fact that since my parents moved to a smaller place that they had to buy almost all new furniture to fit. Of course, the main thing for my parents is that they can have all their children en masse at the dining room table. But for the past month, the main focus of everything else is whether Stefan will be comfortable on the couch, what if he has no room to stretch out? He likes to have comfy pillows...
So excuse me if I deign to eat my mother's home cooked meals practically every day. I like to think I am making them happy by reliving my teenage years, where the only evidence I existed in their home was the fact that some food would be missing in the morning. Who's taking advantage of whom here, is what I am asking?
Like I said last week, Mama and Papa: Please remember that you gave birth to me and that you've known me longer. You should take my side once in awhile. After all, "technically" your beloved son-in-law has only officially been part of the family for a year and a bit. And Dad, seriously, DO NOT SUBSCRIBE to HD NHL Centre Ice next year. You don't even watch hockey.
I was channel surfing when I happened onto a social experiment taking place on MTV Canada. The topic was about menstruation and one of the VJ's was trying to prove that men had no idea what to do with tampons. So she went around the production office asking various co-workers from the director of marketing to the intern to demonstrate how to use a tampon. Needless to say, the results were quite hilarious. I wondered though, whether the whole thing was a bit of a set up (one never knows with television) because the men were really quite ridiculous and I didn't think it was such a hard contraption to conquer.
I don't know why this is, but it seems that Stefan has suddenly decided he's Chinese all of a sudden. He's been reading stuff on the celebrations and keeps sending me random miscellaneous info on my holiday. Perhaps a lot has to do with the fact that it's his animal year this year. Here are some of the random conversations that have cropped up in the past couple of days.
"Stef, can you please sweep the floor before Amy comes? Your little dirt devil has been shedding under the table again."
"I thought it was bad luck to sweep the floors in the new year..."
"Whatever... just do it."
(muttering to himself) "I can't believe she's making me sweep all my good luck away..."
Later.
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"I'm a metal pig and you're a fire snake."
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"Fire molds metal"
Sulking begins.
Later.
"Be nice to me! It's my auspicious year. It means you have to give me back rubs all the time."
Men seem to have all sorts of "bugs" in their genetic make up. I say this all the time. It's as if their brains just aren't wired in the same way as women's brains are. Has anyone else noticed this? Men are always bragging that God made them first. I have this theory that when men were created, God realized that there were all these bugs in the original prototype and so women were created next. Women are the 2.0 version of humans.
Men in my family have their own set of bugs or flaws. The most prevalent one is Lackofloveitis. This "bug" is actually a mental delusion where the party suffering from it feels that they are loved slightly less or not at all in comparison to others. Every week or so, some member of my family is declaring that one of the guys or the guys themselves are complaining about how they're loved less than the girls. Trust me, they suffer from various other more serious bugs such as Painintheassitis and I.P.S. (Irritable Personality Syndrome) to be concerned with the lack of love. Because them being loved less is simply not an issue.
Thank goodness the women in my family are made from sterner stuff. It balances things out.
To my family, whom I love best in the world: my life would feel like less of a life if one of you were not in it. Happy Valentine's Day.
As everyone knows, I like instant satisfaction. As easy-going and carefree as I may seem to be, I definitely like my routine especially when it comes to my computer stuff. So needless to say when I received an email from Flickr saying that old skool members need to merge their accounts with their yahoo accounts, I wasn't very happy. For me, it's just another bloody online thing that I need to remember my username and password for.
K: Did you get this stupid email from Flickr?
S: Yes, I already merged my account.
K: That's so annoying. Now I have to get some new account?
S: I am sure you already have an account.
Impatiently types "yahoo.com" and waits. For 2 minutes.
K: What the hell? What's taking so long?! I'm cancelling my stupid f*@$%ing flickr account!!
Stefan sensing a brewing tantrum is about to take place comes over and tries to soothe me by hugging me and then mocking me.
S: (in his "Karen" voice) Stupid Flickr! Stupid Yahoo! I am cancelling my flickr! I am cancelling my blog! Screw this! (in his own voice) Who's impatient?
K: Well....
Fortunately making me laugh always gets me out of a funk. More tapping on keys and this realization....
K: I already have a stupid yahoo account.
Stefan starts laughing and sulking ensues on my end....
Here's to the boy whose little boy smile lights up my world, who sits patiently with scratches on his arms, cajoling an unwilling cat to take her medication, who pretends he doesn't care if he gets birthday cake but is always happy that he gets one, teases my mother for always stealing "his" tupperware when in reality she's reclaiming her own from all the meals she brings him, and who makes me laugh like no one else can.
I tend to like to ask and talk about "inappropriate" things. The thing that I just don't understand is why people can't be honest and frank around the people they know. Especially if they know the other person is comfortable with it. Even if they aren't, sometimes I think society is way too P.C. about everything and boundaries need a little pushing.
I like to ask Stef questions.
Sometimes he's really taken aback. I don't know whether this has anything to do with his Anglo-Saxon upbringing that makes him so reticent. Or whether I am just too frank. It definitely doesn't have anything to do with my upbringing since both my parents are notoriously shy. I think the truth of the matter lies somewhere in between.
Plus, he's my husband, if I can't ask him questions, who else can I ask?
A year ago today, I stood with you facing the sea while a thunderstorm was brewing and we vowed to be together for the rest of our lives.
When we first got married, I seriously didn't think that anything would be different. After all, we had co-habited in sin for so long that marriage was just the next eventual step. All of our guy friends joked how it was all "downhill" from here on.
But oh! how you love to surprise me.
When I look back on it, all those dating years it feels like there was a part of you that held back 10% of your true self until you knew for sure, that I was yours. Because this year? This year was a whole different ball game and sometimes I have to stop and think to myself,"Who is this guy?" Don't get me wrong. As my boyfriend, girls would just sigh and tell me how lucky I was. As my husband, I have everyone from my grandma to acquaintances wanting to pay money for you.
Every so often, just when I think my parents have completely assimilated into Canadian culture and lingo, they will say something unexpected that proves that this isn't the case. For instance, a conversation with my mother this morning -
"Don't forget to pick up food for Stefan when you come by today."
"Food? You made him food again? Why did you make him food?"
"I don't like the idea of him eating ABC noodles...."
"What the heck are ABC noodles? .......Oh, Alphaghetti!"
I am a hat lady. I tend to wear hats a lot. I've always said that I wanted to go to the Royal Ascot, if only because it gives me reason to find and wear a really ridiculous hat.
Yesterday I wore one just because I couldn't be bothered to do anything with my hair. This is usually my most common reason for wearing a hat. I was wearing a pretty casual baseball hat since Stef and I were simply running around and doing errands. The only problem with wearing this type of hat in relation to my height, is that it really limits my line of vision.
Stefan and I have turned into people I hate - couples who dress alike.
Stefan and I both bought jackets made from the same fabric and same colour. In fairness, I saw my jacket before he did, even though he bought his before I did. Regardless. I really didn't think that we would ever be in a situation where we would actually be wearing the jackets at the same time!
Because believe or not, we barely really see each other. Let me rephrase that. We see each other every day but there's been very rare occasions as of late, when we've been seen with each other in public. We tend to work different hours and be doing different things after. And when we are seen in public together, we definitely make sure we're wearing different jackets.
Except for today.
He met me at the subway and the first thing out of my mouth when I saw him was,"Ohmigad! I am SO embarrassed!" I kept trying to sit in a different spot on the train, so that it would seem like we were not together but the git kept trying to make out with me.
Rest assured, this won't be happening again anytime soon. I am going to re-look at my eight other winter jackets.
I am so very jealous of Lisa's Matilda. I really think that very spoiled Mindy would benefit from having a little baby brother or sister, but Stefan is convinced that Mindy is a one cat type of cat.
Since we(I) adopted Mindy when she was about six years old, I have never been exposed to kittens. Now that Mindy is twelve years old, I constantly worry about how my heart will take it when it's her time to go. Many cat loving friends always say that it's a little easier to take when there is another one to love. I worry that the reason why Mindy is so lazy and overweight is because she's so very bored. Plus, I definitely have it in my heart to love another kitty.
I showed Stefan the following kitty pictures in hopes of changing his mind about adopting another cat -
He's convinced that if we get another, he'll just be a permanent slave as Mindy already treats him like her personal butler. That, and he doesn't want to slip any further on my totem pole of "loves". At this point in time, Mindy is at the very top. I think he's ranked fifth. The god-daughter bumped him down a notch.
I cannot believe that he could look at these pictures and feel nothing.
I bring to you, after a very short blogging silence more ickness from Stefan's hand. Can't you tell that I am just absolutely fascinated by the gross-ness of medical things? I always watch documentaries of surgeries with an appalled fascination. My brain always wants to look but my stomach doesn't really want to.
So, this is Stefan's hand after the stitches were taken out this morning.
"Err...do you think they took it out too soon? There are some gaping holes...."
"Well, supposedly the inside part is healed and the wound is supposed to open up like a book. And then it heals up and whatever is left over falls off."
Stefan just came home from the hospital where they had cut off his cast. He'll now be in the splint that he has now for about 4 weeks and then he gets downgraded to a smaller splint. He has to do hand exercises and even press against his injured finger!
I take it back about him being a baby since his stitches are quite awe inspiring. I can't help but be fascinated and revolted at the same time. They're not very neat stitches, are they? You would think these doctors would take sewing 101 and do it right.
It's a little weird that they're leaving it exposed like that and all he has to do is put poly-sporin. But I guess there's a reason why they're doctors and I'm not.
You know when you were little you would have all sorts of random dreams of what you're going to be when you're older? I think mine was lawyer, performer, scientist, artist, writer all rolled in one; until I was a teenager and realized that was not feasible. I dabbled with the idea of medicine because I always found discovering what was wrong with one's body fascinating and then I had to take OAC (grade 13, which was only offered in our Province and almost equivalent to first year university in other provinces) Biology and I had to dissect a sweet little fetus pig. I dropped that course very quickly and ended my dreams of solving crimes and medical mysteries. I have however, never ever wanted to be a nurse. I don't think I have the patient, extremely caring nature needed to do it.
I can now say with absolute confidence that I was never meant to be a nurse.
Stefan finally managed to get an appointment to have surgery on his hand. The surgeon called to say that it was quite urgent that he get the surgery done immediately and why didn't we come sooner? We'd only been trying to get an appointment since it happened....
He came home with all sorts of zig zag markings to show where his hand would be cut. They're going to try to find the torn tendon but usually when it's left longer than 2 weeks, the tendon retreats lower. If that happens, then they'll have to fish it out of his wrist. They mentioned something about drilling the bone, sewing the tendon through the bone and putting in a stainless steel button . The surgery will take about two and a half hours. Oh, and they're going to do this all without knocking him out.
Can't you tell that I just love all sorts of random medical info? Anyway, I think it's better that they're not putting him under as speaking to several surgeon friends, there is always a higher risk when one is knocked out.
Since Stef is a naturally healthy boy, he's only really been in the hospital (for major things, baring natural scrapes and occasional stitches) twice. Once, when he was born and the second time when he was part of genetic testing group and they had to take some blood work from him.
Unfortunately, during the second time while doing a routine taking of blood, a trainee nurse had managed to let quite a bit of air into his vein. He had a golf ball sized bubble of air in his one vein and they had to keep him at the hospital for about 9 hours for observation.The doctor later confessed that it could have been fatal. Needless to say, Stef's been wary of hospitals ever since.
I have a feeling that he's not going to be the best of patients to look after as he's already saying what he needs before the surgery has even happened - movies, food, constant backrubs... He still needs to tell me how backrubs are going to help the healing of his hand.
Stefan seems to have just left the apartment without saying goodbye to Mindy.
That was an interesting move on his part. I wonder what thing of his she's going to poop on when she discovers that (a) he's not home, (b) he's not going to be home for a couple of days and (c) he didn't kiss her goodbye.
I am constantly grateful for where I grew up and whom I grew up with. The food in Malaysia is so unbelievably diverse that you cannot help but be open about food. Having been colonized by the Dutch, Portuguese, then the British and with traders coming from all over the world, our meals were often punctuated by everyone who had left a bit of their cultures behind. I thank my mother for having this amazing passion for food and for passing it down to her children.
Stefan is going away for his annual boys trip this weekend. As much as I'll miss him, I do enjoy my solitary time and meals without him. I get to test cook and eat whatever I want. Not that I am obligated to cook for him in any way, there are many times when I've just felt like cooking something knowing that he won't eat it. He's fully capable of looking after himself. That and Mama Kang always provides a freezer full of "Stefan's Emergency Food When Karen Is Too Busy To Cook Or When She Is Away" for him. I don't know why she spoils him so much, I guess she just hates that he'll eat canned food. Little does she know that canned food such as Alpha-Ghetti is his comfort food.
Tonight, knowing that Stefan would be working late, I had a very delightful light dinner of freshly shucked oysters, mache salad with marinated spanish onions and vine tomatoes, and moules provencale. This was accompanied by toasted freshly baked french baguette slathered with butter and a glass of sauvignon blanc.
Bliss.
I wonder what other meals I will be making while he's gone.
I've decided to create a whole new category because sometimes (a lot of times) when boys do or say something, I really feel like they are complete aliens. Either that or some parts of their brains just aren't wired the proper way. Here is a recent example -
Me: OHMYGAWD!!! I lost a diamond in my ring...
Stef: Don't be ridiculous. Are you sure?
Me: Of course I am sure. There is a HOLE in my ring.
Stef: Let me see. Looks. I don't see anything.
Me: Right there. A BIG HOLE.
After a while.
Stef: Oh yeah..... How could you tell? It's so shiny. Do we have to replace it? Maybe no one will notice.
Turns to look at me.
Big puppy eyes look at him with tears welling up.
BIG SIGH
Stef: Go get it replaced and tell him to put it on my credit card.
I really can't believe he didn't notice right away. Every girlfriend I showed the ring to noticed immediately and all the boys had the same duh! reaction as Stef.
So, now Blinger (if you don't remember, that's the name our friends gave my ring) is at the hospital after suffering some blunt force trauma. Not really sure when I am getting it back. It's funny how you don't realize how used you are to things until they are no longer there.
My finger feels naked and I keep thinking that I've inadvertently left it somewhere. Or when other women see me walking with Stef, they think that I am some big floozy ho messing with
a married man. Because that's what I think when I see other ringless women with ring wearing men.
Stefan managed to rip the tendons off his fourth finger on his right hand at the last footy game. This condition is actually called jersey finger. I swear, I am not making it up as we googled it. So as Stefan's finger swells to a slight, purplish sized sausage and we find out that he needs to have surgery immediately as it's a time sensitive issue, the first thing out of his mouth was, "Man, how am I supposed to play squash?"
I really hope our children take up painting as a sport.
Last night, I was lying in bed at night with Mindy and having one of our "chase my hand under the duvet" games. She was like a lion after it's prey and all Stefan could hear was random bouts of giggling. He popped his head in to see what we were up to and we both looked at him with,"What? We're not doing anything!" looks and he just said,"You're such a little girl", shook his head and went back out.
Later on at night, we were having one of our random night conversations about having children -
K: I really am still a little girl. I can't be anyone else's mummy.
S: I know. I would have to do everything.
K: But if we were to have daughters, wouldn't you want them to be like me? I'm fun.
S: Hmm....I would like them to be a little less mischievous...
K: What do you mean? I'm not mischievous.
There seems to be a conspiracy brewing in the upper ranks of the Kang household. I have always been the apple of my parents' eye. Mind you, my brothers are apples of my parents' eye as well; I just like to think that my apple is shinier and prettier. Since I am the youngest and only girl, I've always been a little more spoiled than the others.
As you all know, things have begun to slightly shift ever since I started dating Stefan. For some reason, it was pretty instantaneous love between my parents and Stef. Not that I minded, as it's always lovely when your family accepts the one you love. My parents, especially my mum tend to convey love through food. I think that is where I got my passion for cooking and why I love doing it for friends and family.
Marriage seems to be the thought du jour lately. This has been the record high year for the number of acquaintances and friends getting married.
Yesterday, Stefan and I went out with the footy lads and ladies after a disappointing defeat with our rival team. At some point we ended up meeting A (can't remember his name) who was thinking of proposing to his girlfriend and was nervous about it. He had planned some grand gesture and was worried about it not going completely to plan. I told him that she would be so happy that she most likely won't even remember what he said in the proposal. I'm still trying to get Stefan to re-propose to me so that I can have memories of him saying it.
Stefan is an onion, or so he likes to tell me. He has many layers. I often tell him that likening himself to an onion is a terrible analogy because after you peel the layers, you simply get more onion.
Anyway, it's true that Stefan has many layers. One of his "layers" that everyone finds so surprising is that he's very design oriented. They just think, because of what he does, that he's just this computer geek. Little do they know that he actually had plans to be an architect with his best friends but numbers and solving theoretical problems won that debate.
Almost everything that he ever picks, whether it be clothing or furniture has to have an element of interesting design. I tend to lean towards whimsical and vintage. Often, when you see his choices, you'll think, "God, how simple. Such clean lines and so boring." and then at a closer look, you'll notice some cool detail, ever so slight.
I just discovered one of the sucky things about being married. Because now we have this dilemna of having two anniversaries. Most people say that when you get married, it goes back to zero. How can that be? That is such crap. Let this be a cautionary tale for those of you still living in sin. All your hard work goes to pot once you tie the knot. Well, I've decided to defy those naysayers who say that we cannot celebrate both.
Ever since we moved into this loft apartment, the toilet has been a little sketch - the seat's a little loose and the base a little rocky. It drives me mental and ever time we have guests, I think some poor fool is going to fall over.
Yesterday, after some creative persuasion, Stefan decided to clean the washroom. I hear numerous bangings and such and I figured that he was just finding his own groove on how to clean the bathroom. He came out, sweaty and announced,"Well, it looks like your daily amusement ride is over. I fixed the toilet." Sure enough, there wasn't even a slight wobble. It made me SO happy.
See? At the end of the day, I am just a simple girl with simple needs.
We were watching The Ten Commandments mini series over the Easter/Passover weekend. I didn't really watch it as I had already seen the 1956 version but I wanted Stefan to watch it because I think he should at least know some bible basics.
Halfway through, he started asking questions.
Stefan: So.....where is Jesus? I keep waiting for him to pop up.
Me: Jesus is after. Long after.
Stefan: Who is this Joseph guy they keep talking about?
Me: Technicolour dreamcoat...
5 minutes passed and he started listing the only Bible people he knew.
Stefan: Jacob and Esau?
Me: Before...
Stefan: Cain and Abel?
Me: They were the first children! Remember Adam and Eve? Look. Why don't you read the Bible from the beginning. It explains everything. Read until Exodus at least and you'll get caught up to this story.
Stefan: Is there a Coles Notes version?
Me: No, they have a children's bible with pictures.
Another 5 minutes.
Stefan: I'm still confused. Where is Jesus? Who was he with?
Me: John the Baptist.
Stefan: Hmph. Well, I'm Stefan the Sleepy and I am going to bed.
During the weekend, we got caught watching old skool The Newlywed Game on GSN. We decided to make one up of our own and Sebastien (the only single one in the room) was picked to choose questions and be the mediator. Here are some examples of the questions, our answers and my comments.
What is your biggest pet peeve about Stefan?
Me: His tardiness
Stefan: Hmm... there are so many! There's farting....and being weird about food. I am going to say she hates that I am not open about food. I am not quite sure how he got this wrong since we were just arguing about this on the way to the cottage as he was late getting ready to leave!
If Karen could speak to anyone dead or alive, who would it be?
Me: Madonna
Stefan: Madonna I know it sounds SO superficial! There are too many people in the world that I would love to talk to. But, I am a huge fan of Madonna and it seemed like the easy answer. Mags had answered Sting and Adrienne made us feel bad by picking Gandhi!
Who is the better driver?
Me: Me
Stefan: Me HUH! He always like to point out the time when I was learning how to drive. That was then. I am WAY the better driver, no matter what he says.
What is the one piece of clothing that Stefan owns that you wish you could throw out?
Me: His stupid suede jacket from grade 10
Stefan: My suede jacket I hate that stupid jacket. Stef keeps telling me it's going to come back in style and I tell him regardless of that, he's quite a bit bigger than he was at 15.
If Karen won $5000 in the lottery, what would be the first thing she would buy?
Me: An expensive handbag
Stefan: hmm.....well, if it's only $5000, I know she wouldn't give me any....I am going to say some sort of pricey handbag. HE does know me, he really does!
Mags/Rich got the most points, us second and Kev/Adrienne last. The way the scoring worked out is actually kind of funny because all of us got together with our partners the same summer. But Mags and Rich have been married the longest and Kev and Adrienne are engaged to be married this Fall.
It's such a gorgeous sunny day today and I am on my way to morning spin.
I was just thinking, looking ay everyone's gorgeous "days in colour" pictures how I wish I had gotten a digial SLR instead of my P&S.
Last year when I was debating what to get, I was insistent that I wanted a compact camera that I could tout around in my purse. Stefan really thought I should have gotten a digital SLR. He thought that since I'd been taking photography courses for fun and had been taking some gorgeous shots with a vintage manual SLR (a gift from my father-in-law), that it would make a more sensible choice. But no, I was insistent and I got my Canon SD700.
And don't get me wrong, I love my little Canon but we also already had Stefan's Canon SD450. We like our Canons, can't you tell?
But when we were in Jamaica, I wished that I had an SLR to take some interesting shots. Now looking around at some prints I did with my manual, I really, really wish I had one. Oh well, I guess it's time to save up.
I've been trying to get back into my reading groove and you know it's hard to figure out what you want to read. I go to the library and I try to pick out books that catch my eye in the different sections. It's rather overwhelming because sometimes there's so much choice and you can't always tell by the back flap. The book can sometimes look interesting and then it sucks.
Anyway, I realized that I had been neglecting male authors lately so I've been making a serious effort to consciously pick them up. You know, because it's important to get the opposite sex's point of view.
So this book, Man and Boy by Tony Parsons was my latest read. I don't want to generalize but the last five books that I've read by younger men have ALL dealt with the same subject.
Man is in relationship. Man goes through crisis. Man has one night stand. Woman leaves man. Man is lost without woman. Man needs to re-adjust to life. Woman is being impossible for not understanding his slip. Yada yada yada.
Boo-fucking-hoo. Cry me a river.
I know people cheat. It does happen. More than we think it does, so let's not lie to ourselves. It happens for many reasons. Everyone makes mistakes, I know that.
BUT, why is it such a popular topic for guys to write about? Is there no other intriguing life experience that they can talk about? I just want to know. Is this all they think about? It's just such a done storyline. It's like the cop out "I-need-to-create-tension" part of writing. And really, I don't feel sympathetic towards these characters. Cheating as an excuse to get out of a bad relationship is pathetic in my books. Be a man and just deal with it.
So, as I was reading this last night, I was also absolutely seething with rage. Stefan hates it when I read books with topics that bother me because I just get so upset. I started to ask him (I like to ask people, especially him, hypothetical questions -- it can be really fun) whether he would cheat and he just said, "Do I look stupid? Don't you know that I am afraid of you? I don't want my nuts chopped off and shoved down my throat."
Stefan thinks that he should be nominated for early sainthood as this was our second weekend in a row, watching yet another version of Pride and Prejudice. I keep wondering why I love the movies and book so much.
I love Jane Austen's works. Her observations of human nature, familial love and respect are all things that I can relate to. I read all of her works annually. Yes, I am a re-reader, a habit that many of my friends cannot understand. I say a favourite book is like comfort blanket that you never want to let go. Plus, I've always found, depending on my mood, that I always get a different feel from a re-reading.
As you can see, Stefan and I made the local paper today. I am actually surprised at how many people read that paper but I guess it just goes to show that just because I don't read it, doesn't mean no one else reads it.
For those who are or were curious, we didn't submit our picture in. After we eloped, I had sent all my personal contacts an email telling them about our marriage. A large number of those contacts happened to be people I work with, which happens to be people who work in the fashion industry. It just so happened at the time the Fashion editor was working on a "Groom" story and had asked around to see whether any one in our industry had gotten married. It just so happened that we did and that's what happened.
To be honest with you, I kinda had forgotten about it as the story kept on getting pushed back. After all, all the major fashion weeks around the globe were in full force. Who wanted to hear about a wedding story?
So the news hit today.
Stefan got a lot of ribbing from his footy friends who had somehow found out. Some people asked me how I, a person who works in fashion, could possibly buy my wedding dress on Ebay? First, I am pretty pragmatic about that kind of stuff. I just wanted a pretty dress that I could put in the Goodwilll bag or back on Ebay without feeling like I spent so much money on something that I am not really sentimental about. Secondly, do you know how hard it is to find a non-wedding-wedding dress in December, in the land of ice and snow?
Anyway, there it is -- my 2 seconds of fame. My proud papa bought a couple of copies and my crazy brother Kelvin, bought 5!
Kelvin, what is wrong with you? What the hell are you going to do with all those copies, for Pete's sakes?
Once upon a time, before we started dating, Stefan had a beautiful glass fishbowl. It was quite large and contained three goldfish, named after his then roommates and himself.
"Paulo" was the fish with a big hairy mole after his Portuguese namesake, "Stefan" was the beautiful albino fish and "Tom" was the grumpy, fat fish. As legend goes, "Paulo" and "Tom" killed "Stefan" because it was too beautiful, Paulo then killed himself out of boredom and "Tom" was left. Two sets of roommates and four years later, "Tom" still happily swum around the fishbowl. Stefan was convinced that he had the record for the longest living $2.99 goldfish.
Woo Hoo! I am always so excited when I switch my masthead. Only because I have such a short attention span and I get so bored of things quickly. It's another downside to being in the fashion industry, I think.
Lia, Stefan and I have really gotten our masthead making down to a science.
My wonderful Lia, who says that I am the worst and best client. I can always envision what I want but I don't have the skills to execute it. That is where Lia and Stefan come in. I remember the first masthead, which was Spring last year.
"Lia, I am thinking baby pink and mint green with a girly font. Just do whatever you like" I said. She came back with something and I was happy because back then it was really simple. (For the guys who are colour blind, no this is not the same colour scheme as last year. This is coral and lime, thank you very much!)
By summer, I came up with blue and hot pink as my colours. "Think cottage and relaxing. Boats , sun and water." I thought I was being very direct and creative. She gave me three options and I was like,"Err....this is not really what I had in mind...maybe you can add this or do this....."
Then there is poor Stefan, who I've always thought was my own personal web master. I am always expecting him to tweek one thing or another and I always want it right now!! It's even worse now that we're married, because I always think that it's my God given right to demand round the clock service.
Back in the day, I would give Lia colours to work with for the masthead but Stefan would get nothing for the rest. I would say, "Just do variations of what Lia did...." and then I would make him change it because I didn't like his colour combinations.
Yes, I am an unreasonable bum! Anyway, now that we've had a bunch of seasons under our belts, I try to make things as easy for them as possible. Now, I am really specific with details - I send both my overall colour scheme (using this handy tool and Photoshop), an image that I want and just let them do whatever. After all, they both do it for free and out of love for me. (I hope!)
Thank you, Lia and Stef for doing such a great job and for always indulging me!
Valentine's Day (yes, I know I am a day late but who really cares?) is such a weird concept. We never really celebrate it. At first, I was a little offended because I had always been throughly spoilt by all previous boys on this day. The first Valentine Day we spent was when we'd been together for all of six months. Stefan just refused to celebrate it because he called it "superficial" and "social bullshit."
Even though I agreed with him, I still wanted to have a little something for him to acknowledge that I would eventually be the love of his life. He surprised me on the day by giving me a tiny chocolate bear holding a heart. Cheesy, but I still loved it. We've kind of celebrated it every year by not celebrating it.
We had our wedding celebration party last night at The Century Room with some family and all of our friends. It's a jolly good thing we didn't have a wedding because I barely had a chance to talk to anyone. We had a good time though but now am suffering from it.
Stefan and I are idiots.
We came home last night, drunk as skunks and gleefully tore through all the cards and gifts. We weren't expecting anything since we eloped, so it was a very nice surprise.
However, now we can't figure out who gave us what. We've managed to find out most of them after painfully tracing our stupored steps but there are still three unknown presents. I think we need to figure it out after some needed rest (and advil) as I am definitely not in the right frame of mind right now.
I thought I should get this part over with before it gets way too late and everyone goes,"Bloody shut up about your stupid wedding already!!!"
Please click on the pictures and it will automatically redirect you to my Flickr account and reveal a photo slideshow. If you want to see my individual comments on each picture, all you have to do is click stop slideshow and manually view it.
My lovely boy and his beautiful blue eyes. My week old husband. My kitty litter picker upper. My rescue king in rocky waters. My powder white wonder, who needs at least three months to work on the slightest tan. My backgammon buddy. My fellow plotter and eloper. My lily pad boy.
I thought I would impart some age old knowledge now that I am a married woman. HAH! As if I've acquired any, it's only been 6 days after all. But I thought I would share some random thoughts about what I think so far about getting married and eloping.
I am not sure whether many brides get to really enjoy their weddings (I've heard plenty of horror stories) but I definitely did.
It was really funny because once we got to Jamaica, all the stress of planning the whole thing just melted away.
Our neighbours in the next villa were so shocked when they went on their balcony before the sunset and realized that they were witnessing a wedding taking place on the gazebo. They said they had to get out their binoculars to make sure that it was really us.
I think it was because we had the chillest day. We went swimming in the warm ocean, then laid in the sun, read books and spent the whole day just enjoying ourselves. Then we realized it was almost time for our wedding and we got dressed and off we went.
Both Stefan and I were a bundle of nerves. But once the ceremony started, all of that also melted away. We both had our own vows in addition to the ones the minister had. There were some tears but mostly laughter.
For the next few days, almost every couple at the hotel were telling us how if they had to do their wedding all over again, they too would have done it by themselves.
I am glad that we did it the way we wanted to because we really had the perfect wedding.
December 24, 2005
We finally picked up our rings. Oh, that Stefan and I, we sure like to live by the ants in our pants. Talk about stressful. My ring is absolutely beautiful and much larger than we anticipated. I keep thinking people are going to think it's fake or try to rob me. We both can't stop looking at it on the street. We go home and we both put our rings on. I love the fact that they are both so different from each other, they're so uniquely a part of ourselves and yet it symbolizes our unity.
I like the fact that I did not go for a solitaire engagement ring and a wedding ring. It's just a thick band because I figured I wear rings like that all the time and it had to be comfortable. Plus, there was no need for an engagement ring since we were eloping. It really was a very personal choice and it made sense for me. A friend told me once, that in her culture, a lot of people don't wear their engagement rings on the ring finger once they are married. When I asked why, she said it's because a solitaire is a broken circle and a marriage should remain unbroken. Funny, but now that I think about it it just gives my choice more significance to me as my ring is a really solid, unbroken ring.
I wear my ring all night long to get used to wearing a ring all the time. I can feel Stefan trying to get a better look at it while I am sleeping. It's quite comfortable. He said the words," Wife..." this morning. WE-IRD!
December 2, 2005
We finally decided on a place! We've made a reservation at The Rockhouse, it's a smaller, boutique hotel that's gotten really good reviews. Stefan keeps saying we're going to jump off the cliffs but he doesn't get that people who wear bikinis and jump tend to lose their bikinis in the landing. I'll stick to using the stairs. I am excited and nervous that it's all coming about. And also tremendously relieved, I don't know why brides like long engagements. Painful experience, I think. Just think of it like a bandaid and rip it off, I say. Now I can worry about more important things like Christmas.
You know, I'm thinking I would have been just fine with a used car as an engagement thing and getting married at City Hall. I'm pragmatic like that. Stef is more the romantic and he wanted somewhere beautiful and sunny because I've come to dread the winters here. He's such a nice guy, I am really very lucky....
It's not really a gunshot wedding, but sounds so much more dramatic when you say it that way, don't you think? Stefan and I always said we would elope when we got married. I believe we brought up the subject up on our third date and after, we were a little creeped out that we both were so in sync straight off the bat. We said we wanted to go somewhere hot and it would just be the two of us and that is exactly what we did. Here is a short diary of our engagement and the planning leading to the BIG DAY.
Sharing a bed with someone else is weird. I've always thought so. Sharing a bed with someone twice your size, in a bed meant to be for a teenager is simply ridiculous.
Stefan and I always argue about the stupid bed. It's his old one from university days and how he ever fit into that thing in the first place, I'll never understand. It's a double, the size in between a single and a queen for those of you who don't know. I've almost always been in a queen size bed and having done so, am not apt to share my space.
I am not sure what it is about me, and I assure you that I do not do this out of spite, but I love to teach Stefan non-useful words from my language. I can speak a mixture of Chinese, Malaysian and English. Growing up in Asia, where everyone speaks at least three languages or dialects, it is not uncommon to mix them up. It makes for very funny conversations. At least, it sounds like that to the ear.
He says that I am obsessed with the show, that he doesn't actually watch it and that the only reason why he sometimes watches it, is because of me. Yet....
He's always the first one to remind me what time it's on.
He gets mad if I should even try to surf during commercials.
He knows all the doctor's TV names (I watch it all the time and I still call them by their real names or by the roles they did before).
I've caught him watching it by himself when I've been out that night.
Despite the slow start to our long weekend, we are ending it off with a bang. Please meet "Mitsuko" the newest member in our family. She joins big sister "Millie" my 20G ipod and "Max" Stefan's ipod mini. We're slowly building our family of Apple gadgets. I have no idea why they all have names starting with "M". 
Stefan just came home from the hospital where they had cut off his cast. He'll now be in the splint that he has now for about 4 weeks and then he gets downgraded to a smaller splint. He has to do hand exercises and even press against his injured finger! 
