Wanna touch my back?

Yesterday was warm. Real warm. Something like 30+°C with a humidex of 40°C. Sang and I were unloading stuff from my car into his apartment, which is really only barely air conditioned. It has a window box air conditioner, which I think cools the imediate surroundings pretty well (i.e. if you sit on the chair next to it, you feel ok). Sang, however, thinks it just makes noise, so it is rarely turned on.

As we were waiting for the elevator, Sang was telling me how sweaty his back was (he had just come back from a bike ride) and was daring me to touch it. Yuck! At first I refused, but then we decided that if he would touch mine, I would touch his. We had our shirts up to facilitate sweaty back touching, when, of course, the elavator door opened to reveal an older woman waiting inside. Oops!

We were both embarassed and quickly pulled our shirts down. This was one of those times where I figured that truth was stranger than fiction, but still I felt obligated to tell her why we were so strange. I think she believed me (probably better than the alternative) and we happily prattled about the weather down until the main floor. Well, I was certainly prattling. When I am nervous, I sometimes start to babble.

In the meantime, I think Sang and I have learned a valuable lesson about public places and untimely entrances.

Stiffy

I have been taking a yoga class for the last couple weeks, and I am somewhat embarassed to report that me (and one other girl) share the title of being the least flexible in the class, such that the poses we do are somewhat modified.

I should explain that it is our lack of quad and/or hamstring flexibility that has led to this. I have extreme flexibility in other regions, such as my upper body (sholders especially). Since last week, I have been trying to stretch out my taut muscles...we will see if this makes any difference in class.

On the weekend, Sang and I went over to a friend-couple's house, who had recently installed a climbing wall. We had fun and it was very challenging (it's not just about getting to the top, it's the holds that you can use and the routes you can take as you make your way across). The next day, Sang's arms were sore, and couldn't hold much weight. I chided him gently (of course!) for over-exerting himself.

By the next day, however, my arms were hurting, and I still feel residuable stiffness.

I have yoga class now in a couple hours - between my chronic lack of leg flexibility and my new lack of arm flexiblity - it may be all I can do to simply roll out my yoga mat!

Today I am Happy Because:

1. I was able to help people. I like doing that. One person was carrying a lot of stuff from one room to another. I walked with him and opened doors.
(why didn't you just help him carry it? well, it was so precariously balanced and interlocked that i felt sure that my touching the pile would send it all toppling)

2. I said "hi" to someone, and it made them smile. Actually, I think it was that I said "Hi", then he said "Hi", and then we both said "How are you?" at the same time. You know how when that happens it comes out all jumbly and really all you can do is smile?
(who is this person that such a simple thing could brighten your day? my boss, who i don't get a chance to see very often because he is a very busy man, who is respected to the point where some people feel nervous around him, myself included sometimes, but whom i like very much and who i think likes me too)

I'm getting mail

I remember as a child being so excited when a piece of mail arrived at our house with my name on it. Usually, these were birthday cards from out of town relatives - and sometimes - a package - a birthday present! When I was young, mail was the most awesome thing ever.

As I got a little older, mail started to include bank statements. These were less exciting, but still kinda fun, after all, they came in an envelope with my name on it. I also started to get junk mail. This was rare enough that it just made me laugh. Ha ha, why would a 12 year old care about senior health?!

Now, I have reached the point where I get an excess of mail. Some of it I am interested in and open right away - unfortunately, this category is the smallest. Some of it is bills - I feel obligated to open it right away. Some of it is people asking for money. Depending on who, I treat it as junk, or I respond...but usually delayed. Much of my mail sits unopened in a pile...if I know what's inside it, what's the point?

One of the very fun things that has happened to me in this wedding journey is that now that my invites have been mailed out - I am starting to get exciting mail. Everyday I come home to little cream coloured envelopes with my name neatly on a matte finish label. My reply cards! Sometimes people put return addresses on them, sometimes not. Regardless of wheither I know from whom it is, I am curious as to the response: is Mr. X coming? does Mrs. X have any dietary needs? So exciting!

Once the wedding is over, I will be able to repay this excitement, by sending out cute thank-you cards. Then, people will be able to look through their mail to find the small envelopes.

Email rocks for everyday conversation and business, but nothing is personal and special occasion like a mailed card.

My coffee tastes like sushi...

I have a little bit of a coffee habit. It really started in undergrad; I honestly don't think I could have made it through undergrad without. I started drinking coffee with cream and sugar when I was in my late teens. Later, I dropped the sugar. Now, I drink my coffee black. Sometimes when I am out at a fancy restaurant, and they bring the coffee with a pitcher of real cream, I will add a little bit, as a treat. But normally, straight up!

I also am very regular about the amount I drink. I usually fill my thermos in the morning at home, and that is all I will drink. If I drink less, I feel sleepy; if I drink more, I feel jittery.

On weekends, though, anything goes. I'll go without (and take a nap instead), I'll have a skim latte (I think I need to work my dairy into my diet), or sometimes, loads at a restaurant.

Today I was running late in the morning, so I didn't have time to brew my pot. In the morning, I picked up a cup of Timmy Ho's. This afternoon, I picked up a cup from the cafeteria downstairs. I used my own cup, which I pour the coffee from my thermos into. I wash it periodically, but only after it has developed a thick layer of stain. Remember: I drink my coffee black, so really, this isn't as gross as it could be.

As I am sipping it, I am noticing something rather odd, but incredibly tasty. My coffee tastes like sushi. Not just a naked roll, but dipped in soysauce - that had wasabi stirred into it - and covered with soysauce-marinated ginger. In other words, it tastes like sushi just the way I like it.

I can't tell if I am very strongly craving.....mmmm....sushi....or if my coffee has some strange additive. But either way, SO TASTY!

Sometimes, a card really is a gift

Sometimes our life partners make us want to scream and pull our/their hair out. Sometimes, they are so wonderful. Let me share an example of the later.

Sang and I celebrate our anniversary of "dating" on Canada Day, i.e. July 1st. This year marked our sixth, and in a way, also our last - we will be celebrating a different kind of anniversary after this one.

I did not forget the date - this is partly why we picked Canada Day (it's hard to pin-point exactly when we made the transition from "friends" to "more than friends") - so that it was easy to remember. It's just that I was really busy and did not have time to give it much thought. The wedding social was at the end of June, and the wedding proper is coming up, not to mention all the other stuff that goes on in my life.

Well, Saturday I picked Sang up and wished him a happy anniversary, and he gave me a card.

"Oh, don't", I said. "You're making me feel guilty that I didn't get you one".

"But you did", he replied. "You snuck it into my bag, you just forgot to write on it."

The little sweetheart bought me a card - and one from me, for him, too. I signed it and gave it back to him. The card was super appropriate too - it would have been a great card for me to have bought. It said something along the lines of:

I know I've been super busy lately. I wish I had just five extra minutes each day....

So that I could make out like crazy with you for five extra minutes, each day!