To Have and To Hold

I love going to weddings. I think my favourite part is the assigned seating. Not only do they feed and water you, they tell you where to sit, so you don’t have to stay sober enough to choose your own. Looking at the wedding line-up for the next 10 months, I think it’s going to be a great year for romance.

My brother is one of those getting married this year – and soon. I know ‘writing vows’ is high on his and his fiancée’s list of things to get done in the next three weeks. Movies portray the writing of vows as such a romantic thing to do. The groom-to-be usually procrastinating, wanting to fill his verse with sports metaphors and hardware symbolism, and maybe the odd hockey game memoryfrom that trip with the boys. Meanwhile, the bride-to-be spends her time thinking of fond memories of long walks and surprise flower deliveries and sweet anticipation of things to come. But at the end of the movie, the vows are said with such great meaning in front of a crowd of adoring supporters, that the world almost seems to stand still while the prose is…..perfection.

I often wonder what it would be like to write vows of commitment, after you’ve been married for a few years. Would romance, honour, support and unwavering love be what you’d commit, or would you instead promise to forgive and forget, pledge to try your best not to wake your spouse up when you come to bed late, and admit that sometimes you’d like to go to bed angry. Would you declare that some things are too big to get over, and that when you fight no four-letter words are off limit? And in front of a room full of your closest and not-so-close family and friends, would you confess that there’s a chance that you might be in the bottom 50 percent for success rate. Could the movie still end the same way or would that end up on the cutting room floor?

Oprah’s had a big Best Life week. It was her way to kickstart the New Year – with better health, regular spirituality, more money, and better sex. Yes, Oprah is all about the sex. She’s had a few of these shows now, and I’m always amazed at the men who sit there, in front of 10 million viewers, without squirming, as his sex-life, and usually his wife’s unhappiness, is splayed on national television. Do his friends razz him about it later? Is it one of those topics that ‘mature guys’ just don’t discuss in the locker room? Does he sit there and wish that 24 years ago, his wife had stood at the altar and told him, in between promises of loyalty through sickness and in health, that she had said, “and I look forward to the day where I can be a guest on the Oprah show with you and tell you for the first time, in front of women across North America, that I hate sex.” Would Canon in D still play after that ceremony?

I took the easy way out – instead of talking from the heart, I repeated after the priest. Had I to do it again, I think I would do it the same way. The heart doesn’t know what it’s getting itself into.

Appliance Melancholy

The year.... 1974*. Appliance companies everywhere responded to consumer demand for appliances to be any colour but white. Pea-soup green became the uh... 'gold' standard in households across North America. Other promising colours were dried-mustard yellow and bad-mayonnaise beige. Washing machines began offering 'gentle cycles' and brands like Maytag and Whirlpool became household names, known for producing quality product that lasted for years.

Fast forward to 2008. Last year (in 2007), we bought a house and became proud owners of a pea-soup green washer and dryer. I looked all over the machines for the emblazened seal of approval stating the year of manufacturing, to no avail. I convinced myself I wasn't yet out of diapers.

After my first load of laundry, I asked The Man for a new washer and dryer. "What would really go great in our laundry room is a new washing machine. One that has more than two options for wash cycles," I pleaded. Not a chance. My best hope was for one of the machines to break. I won't lie; in earnest I concocted possible scenarios for how best to break either machine. 'How bad is it really to put a hammer in the dryer? How many towels could I wash at a time before the washing machine choked and died? Is a pack of matches in the dryer a fire hazard?' I never had the nerve, or the financial comfort, to bring my imagination to life. However two weeks ago, the answer came, in the form of a large, blue, terry cloth bathrobe.

Otherwise known as the thing. that would not. dry. Time flies when you only have three dry settings to choose from. Apparently, after three hours, the bathrobe was still not dry. 'Hmm," I thought. "That's some thick bathrobe. Obviously too much for my antique dryer to handle." Genius husband said it was because I was using permanient press dial setting, with the high heat temperature setting. He buys into the theory that if you say anything with authority, people will believe you. I'm onto him though!

A week later my cousin Jenn and her bf Ryan came to visit. They had driven along the coast from B.C, camping in rain for a week, I offered them use of my laundry facilities. No terry-cloth fur coats in their laundry, yet it still took three hours to dry. While I was slightly embarrassed, I rejoiced. "Ding, Dong! The dryer's dead. The dryer's dead!" in tune to the W.O.Oz's Munchkin Parade.

I registered on Consumer Reports. I spent hours browsing. I pounded the pavement. I talked to friends and got first-hand accounts. I read reviews. Using an Excel spreadsheet and some moderately confusing math, I narrowed it down. One of the most important things to me, was energy efficiency. While some people in my household believe more in global cooling than global warming, I wanted a lower electricity bill. Fortunately, that only leaves about 45 units to choose from. I wanted a top loader for a few reasons - easier on my tweaky back, can add clothes to the cycle once it's started, my laundry room doesn't leave a whole lot of room for doors at knee height, and larger loads. (One day I will have a king size bed and will need to wash king-size blankets).

I narrowed it down to the Whirlpool Cabrio, Maytag Bravos, Kenmore Elilte Oasis HE, and GE Profile. To make a long story less long, I went with the Kenmore Elite Oasis HE from Sears because I got a ridiculously good price on a floor model. (Also, I am less concerned about anti-bacteria in my laundry, am not convinced the 'steam' function really makes a huge difference, not to mention any of those washer and dryers have about 80 per cent more functionality than my current pair, and 100 per cent more effectiveness than my current dryer).

Overall, I would say trying to decide on which appliances to go with is not easy. It's a lot of pressure! It's all fine and dandy for The Guy at home on the couch watching television, but I just knew that if I bought the wrong thing it's going to be all my fault. A woman with her son were also spending their Monday afternoon shopping for a new W/D set, and I'd like to think, we bonded over the anxiety.

Things I learned:

• You will usually pay about $100 more for a non-white machine
• They will take MORE money off the floor model if there are scratches etc. At Sears, for every two weeks the floor model sits there, they knock more money off.
• It's important to note which machines are gas and which are electric
• Doing one load of laundry in hot water uses as much energy as leaving your fridge door open for 24-hours
• By the end of 2011, nearly a quarter of the major home appliances sold worldwide will be non-white. This will be most true for high-end appliances.
• Kenmore appliances are produced by Whirlpool
• No one has invented a washer/dryer combo that folds laundry yet
  

The washer and dryer arrive on Saturday. Here's hoping for a lower electricity bill, cleaner clothes, shorter drying time, and a husband that will do laundry.


* Totally fabricated date

Competition Amongst Friends

The Death Ride is in one week. Seven days of nerves to withstand. It's ridiculous. There's nothing to be nervous about. Get on the bike and pedal. The catch is that you pedal for 12 hours, at elevation, taking 10-15 minute breaks every few hours. The butterflies are going crazy in my stomach.

I did this ride two years ago. And I completed 90 miles of the 129 mile route. I was in better shape, but was not mentally prepared for five "passes" and so only completed four. (Looking back, had I completed the whole thing, I would not be attempting it again. Hindsights a bi*ch).

I've trained a little differently this year.
First, I didn't bike as much. This is not a good thing.
I'm going to take aspirin for the week leading to the event. This should help to thin my blood and make it easier for my heart to work at high altitude.
In training, I rode longer hill climbs and varied it up. Instead of riding the same three hills, I went to Mt. Diablo and Mt. Tamalpais to seek the intensity I would be facing on the Death Ride route.
Lastly, I rode with friends. I'm fortunate this year to be participating in the event with people I know. It's made training easier and more fun. But it's also taught me something about competition amongst friends.

When it comes to athletics, it's hard to find someone that is a mirror image of you in talent and skill Maybe someone runs faster, but the other person can run longer. Cycling is no exception. I have a friend who's excellent at hills. I suck at hills. I have a friend who goes really fast on the flats... I like riding with them because they make me push myself harder on the flats. I consider myself a competitive person, but when it comes to cycling, I want to ride with people who are better than I am. They push me to do better, and i think that's the secret to getting better at anything.

Friendly competition is a phenomenal thing. It can help one succeed when they otherwise wouldn't have; and it can strengthen or break a friendship. If there's one thing I have learned during this season's training, it's to surround yourself with people who want to see you succeed and do well, and who remain supportive and positive, whether they finish before you or after you. Avoid those who never were able to grow out of being that 'sore loser' on the elementary school playground.

Now, go watch the Tour de France!

Things that Make You Go...Fu*k, That's Frustrating

I like things to go my way. I don't feel bad about it because I know I'm not alone. And I know when things don't go my way, I'm going to get a little frustrated. I married a guy who thinks cleaning an entire bathroom - the sink, the toilet, the floor - with just one sponge is perfectly acceptable. This is frustrating to me, but thanks to my grandmother's advice I realize, atleast he's cleaning the bathroom.

I get frustrated by Home Depot. Specifically, the Home Depot 'drain'. That feeling I get as every ounce of energy in my being gets sucked out of me by a lack of employee help, endless aisles full of more things that I need or know how to use, and concrete floors. I waste many a brain calorie wondering if this large black tube 6" wide and 8' long is something I could use at my house. No? Well, what about the one that's only 4" wide and 6' long? No again? What about several black tubes that are only a metre long, and 2" in diameter? There must be something.... which one of these signs is the price of the short black tubes? This one? no. that one? no..... and on and on it goes.. I'm not letting Ikea off this hook, but at least at Ikea, there's a whole couch section and a whole bed section where you can rest up before enjoying a &1.99 breakfast with Swedish meatballs.

Today's frustration came from Facebook. While I am happy to be a part of the continuously growing popularity that is FB, I still have no problems admitting the main reason I caved and joined when I did comes from a pretty silver can, named Coors Light and his other five Coors Light friends.

Why does FB only allow you to be a member of one geographic network at a time? I am more than frustrated by this. I don't want to pigeon hole myself into the San Francisco network (no offence all my SF friends), after all, I only work in the city. I don't want to limit myself to San Jose, because I live in Mountain View. The Silicon Valley network works, but then I feel as though I am abandoning all connections to the True North Strong and Free. Why can't I be a member of a Canadian network at the same time I am a member of an American one? Even the U.S Government lets me hold two citizenships. (When I want to get around to it).

I decided to email my question to the Facebook developer team. I admit, mostly, to see what kind of form letter I get in response. Will let you know when I get them to change the rules.

Working to Live or Living to Work

Not everyone is lucky enough to find what they love to do and get paid for it. I often doubt the honesty of people who say they would do what they do for a living - for free. Just because 'lie on the couch and watch tv' isn't anywhere on the career list, doesn't mean it wouldn't make most people's list of preferences, peppered with 'microwaving popcorn.' Get paid to ride my bike and swim all day? Sure! But let's face it, even Olympian swimmers and professional tennis players need a vacation.

Currently searching for a job, I'm facing decisions about long-term career growth, career goals, financial compensation, and personal satisfaction. But in which order should the preceding factors play a role? Does satisfaction beat out financial necessity? Does career growth beat out company morale?

I passed on a job offer today. And only minutes after finding out I didn't get the job that they ended up giving to an internal candidate, I secured an interview elsewhere. The bird in the hand cliche keeps coming to mind, but at what point do you stop waiting for the perfect job and settle for one?

With two interviews tomorrow, it indeed only rains when it pours, and experience tells me it will be thus followed with a drought.

Just when I thought I was getting old...

I haven't been out partying in a while. Part of that is because I just don't have the social circle that is back home, but also, when you live in Mountain View, the city can seem far away. Alas, something kicked my social calendar into a higher gear this weekend and I sit here on not that much sleep after three nights in a row of drinks and socializing.

Thursday was a T. Tahari event at San Francisco's Macy's. My friend B uses a personal shopper, Judy, there - she's free!!! - and so we got invited to an event. Bit of a fashion show of sorts. And maybe it was the free sparkling, or maybe it was the fact that I've been on an anti-spending budget lately, but when I saw those Calvin Klein shoes... I knew I just had to have them.

Friday night we went to Otis to support Brian, an up and coming SF DJ, and then found ourselves in the Marina where B and I befriended a few boys over drinks. And not just any boys... DEA Agent boys. Four and a half hours later, after taxi rides to we're-not-sure-where (inner richmond) and pizza and lots and lots of conversation, I got home at 6 a.m.

What continues to blow me away as I recall the evening/morning, was that these guys were DEA Agents. As in, kick in the door and shout "DEA" really loud, agents. What might be more interesting, is that no, they did not actually admit to being 'on the force.' They were children's book writers, or illustrators, or copywriters. But no children's author that I know packs heat, tucks a shield in his belt, and keeps a DEA I.D card in his back pocket. Apparently, in the city of SF it becomes a controversial issue, so it's just easier 'not to talk about.'

Saturday night we joined our Canadian transplants (and Kate) for dinner in Palo Alto. I stand by that Empire Grill and Tap Room has the best carpaccio on the West Coast. Yum! Then we headed to Molly McGees for more alcohol and yup - dancing! Finally, after almost a full year of being nowhere near a dance floor you couldn't get me off. I think I was most impressed with the fact that the Provider got out there too at the end of the night. I found out today that it turns out he was probably only out there because he didn't realize he was. This morning he admitted not remembering much past dessert.

Nothing like Pho to take off the effects of a hangover. But it's not doing much for the fact that I've gotten about 12 hours of sleep in three nights. Now, I realize compared to what parents of newborns get that's probably a lot, but they have a bundle of joy to keep motivated. No one ever said killer headaches, stomach rot, and 'the spins' were motivating.

FIRST!

So I guess it's time to get on the social networking wagon. Or maybe, I just wanna be like everyone else? Or MAYBE, I don't have enough things to keep me busy during the day, so trying to commit to writing updates daily/weekly/monthly is just one more thing for me to think about. Either way, we'll see how long this lasts! Not to mention, this way, mom can keep up to date on stuff and we'll save time on phonecalls!