This is not a blog.

I've made the move on over to Wordpress and won't be updating here no more. blogwhatblog.com should be pointing over at the new site soon if you should like to follow me over there. Thanks for your eyes.

I was missing having a four-legged beast living with me, so I picked up a kitten from the humane society. She came from Annex Cat Rescue, so at 2 months old, there's a good chance she was feral.

Not having had much contact with humans, the poor thing was extremely timid. A few minutes after bringing her home, she disappeared. My place isn't that big and doesn't have many hiding spots, so I was stumped. More than an hour later, I pulled out the sofa bed and she came crawling out of some hole she'd burrowed into. She pretty much spent the next couple of days there, until I figured out to cover the hole up after digging her out for the last time.

At first, the only way I was able to lure her out from under the couch was with a feather attached to a string. Despite her fear, the playful kitten in her wasn't able to resist it. But any sudden movements on my part and she was gone again. So for the first day or two, I'd get her to come out, but would not even think about touching her.

Around the third day, I'd put my hand out. When she came close to sniff it, I'd stay still as stone. I could easily have grabbed her then, but didn't. By the end of the third day, I could move my hand and she wouldn't flinch.

On the fourth day, I could get her to come out without the feather. She'd come out to sniff my hand and would even let me pet her. On the fifth day, she walked across my lap. On the sixth, she was crawling into my lap and staying there.

By the seventh day, a week since I got her, she's been getting up on my lap whenever I'm at my desk, curious about the movements on the screen, as well as whatever I might be eating. I've had to put her off my lap a few times even for her persistent annoyingness. It's a good thing she's still cute.

This is part 2 of 2 in my series on my first Tough Mudder experience. In part 1, I wrote about what I learned from the day. Here, I'm going to describe each obstacle that we had on Sunday, September 29 at Mount St. Louis Moonstone. Note that each event presents different obstacles and you won't know which ones until about a week before your big day.

So fresh and so clean, pre-start line high fives - Pic by Dan Sprague

Even before getting to the start line, you're presented with a taste of what's to come. A smaller version of the Berlin Walls, most will need a step up from their team to get up and over. With spirits and energy levels high, everyone is eager to lend a hand and the tone is set.

Peter gives Angela a helping shoulder - Pic by Dan Sprague

After an inspirational talk by start line emcee Sean Corvelle, you're on your way. For us, this meant a jog up a junior ski slope to wake up the legs. The excitement is high at this point, but as Mudder Erik reminded us all, it's a marathon, not a sprint, so it's important to pace yourself. The total distance is approximately 17km (10 miles).

Clem, Rick, Blair, and Erik. Still all smiles - Pic by Dan Sprague

It's perfectly fine to walk - Pic by Dan Sprague

Our first real obstacle was Kiss of Mud. The trick of this one to get down -- get way down -- as you belly crawl under barbed wire, strung 8 inches above the ground. You crawl through muddy puddles and while you're doing that, you occasionally get sprayed by a hose. Long sleeves or elbow wraps help, but expect to get scratched up here. Practise keeping your butt and head down in army crawl and you'll be fine.

High ponytails do not fare well here

It's funny to think back to how after Kiss of Mud, we thought we were dirty. So naive. It's helpful to go on a training run while wet so that you can see how your clothes and shoes will feel while moving around. Some of us did this a few weeks before the event at an awesome "Mock Mudder" session, designed by Julian.

Zev takes the hose to Julian, who stands in icy water, at our "Mock Mudder" training session

After a short jog, we were on to the Glory Blades. You'll need your teammates' help to get over these 8-foot angled walls, so it helps to be comfortable with each other because you might need to put your helping hands in places on your person and vise versa. Of course, if you're going solo, you'll have plenty of help from strangers. Arm strength helps here to push yourself up over the top of the 3 walls.

Up 'n over the blades

After this, we had our first water station. Water, bananas, and energy snacks are provided along the course; there's no need to bring your own supplies, though Julian did:

Water-impermeable bacon and pancake snacklets by Julian

After a short jog, we came to Cage Crawl. This, like other obstacles involving water, had some people worried, but when we got there, we saw that it wasn't going to be that big of a deal. Mudders position themselves on their backs, floating in about 2 feet of water under horizontal metal fences. As we surveyed the scene, the guy running the obstacle shouted, "If you have morning coffee you want to get rid of, here's where to do it!" He was joking. Relieving yourself on the course is not allowed. There are port-a-potties along the way.

As you pull yourself along in the water, a peaceful feeling comes over you. Calm your breathing and just glide. Watch you don't bump your head at the end.

Note the smile - easy peasy

Killa Gorilla was next for us. I seem to have blacked this one out, but here's a video. Oh yeah, now I remember - a steep hill with a slippery climb up. Not that hard.

I should point out that at 3 (or was it 4?) points throughout the course, we had to make our way up these massive ski hills. This is the one thing that I'd say is worth training on. You don't have to do it fast -- and you're probably not going to be able to. They're steep and they're long. Walking backwards can help to mix things up a bit, but it is a slog. The scenery is beautiful, though. Take a moment to stretch and take it in.

Kill the hill - Pic by Dan Sprague

And then there was Walk the Plank. If you are afraid of heights at all, this one could give you some grief. After climbing up a ladder, you get to the top of a 15+ foot platform. Down below is muddy water. There will be a crew member at each jump off point, who will offer to give you a little push if you need it. My best advice: don't think - just jump. Look forward, not down. It'll be over soon. After that, a short swim to a muddy embankment and out.

Safety is paramount for the entire Tough Mudder outfit. Although you're required to sign an EXTENSIVE waiver before participating, they really don't want any accidents. Divers keep a watchful eye over the water and make sure that no one stays under for more than a few moments.

Here's a little known fact about the obstacles: you can skip 'em. They don't advertise this widely, but there is no shame in omitting an obstacle if it just don't feel right. Know your limits.

Like falling off a log

By now, we were soaked through. The next obstacle, Hold Your Wood, was a bit of a break. Pick up a log from a pile by yourself or get one handed to you and a friend or two from people completing this task. Then you just walk with it 'til you get back to the start, where it helps if you hand your wood off to a new person.

The biggest fear I had going into Tough Mudder was anything involving electric shock. I was about to face that fear with Electric Eel. Similar to Kiss of Mud, you're on your belly in water, a little deeper this time, pulling yourself along. But this time, there are live wires hanging down above you. Personally, I thought getting shocked felt like someone was rapping on my collarbone with their knuckles. However, all around me, I could hear screams of what sounded like agony. Don't let it get to you. Just keep your head, focus on your breathing, and get through it. I did end up with some burn marks from this one, but I bruise like a peach.

Peter takes a faceful at the end of Electric Eel

Warrior Carry is next. Get with a partner or two and carry them for 100 yards. Switch off at the halfway point.

Poor Angela

The Funky Monkey was next for us. You'll be going hand over hand on bars spaced 1.5 feet apart that go uphill for the first half. Some bars are apparently greased with butter (though I didn't meet any). I used a swinging technique to reach the next bar, which is what I did during training using monkey bars at the park. This helped, though some Mudders were stymied by how far apart the bars were compared to those built for kids. I dried my hands off as best I could before going. Some people wore gloves, but I'm not sure if it helped. Upper body strength is what you need. Don't have enough and you'll be falling into water below.

Try not to hang for too long by one hand. Keep moving.

The Berlin Walls are similar to Glory Blades except 12 feet high instead of 8. You'll need your team's help to get up, and then hang down and drop down the other side. It can feel scary to drop, but remembering that the distance from your feet to the group is usually only about 2 feet helps.

Lots of helping hands - Pic by Dan Sprague

Bale Bonds were next and were not a big deal. Navigate piles of hay. Take your time, though. Easy to turn ankles.

At various spots along the way, there are these mini obstacles of varying degrees of difficulty, like Devils Beard, where you have to make your way under a heavy net, climb over tractor tires, navigate a mucky walk, etc. At this venue, because it is a ski hill, there were these snowboard pipes that we had to get over. For some reason, I found these really tough. They're just thick, round metal pipes, about 5 feet high. You can get help up, no problem, but once you're on top, be careful because since they're rounded, there's no resting before you slide awkwardly off the other side. Bruises were acquired here.

For the next one, Just the Tip, upper body strength helps. Holding on by your fingertips and stepping with just your toes, you shimmy across the hand and footholds, keeping your body close to the wall. Then, there's only a ledge by your hands to hold on to, but it's easier to grip than a bar. Bit by bit, you'll get across and if you don't, you'll land in water. Using your legs as swing leverage helps a bit. Most, if not all, of our group made it past this one, even if they did not make it through Funky Monkey, which used similar muscles.

Balls to the Wall was our next challenge. Climb up a laddered wall using a knotted rope for help. No issues.

And then, it was everyone's most anticipated obstacle, the dreaded Arctic Enema. Here's another one where mind over matter definitely helps. Drop into a bin of icy water (there are actual ice cubes), then move across it a few feet to the middle, where there is a board with barbed wire blocking your path. There's no choice but to submerge and swim under the board. Once you're back up, it's just a few feet to the end where people will help you out.

OK, it's cold. Get over it and just power through. Don't bother testing the waters - just plunge. Try to jump as far out and close to the middle as possible to minimize your time spent in the water. Admittedly, if you have a little more "insulation" like I do, this obstacle will be easier to endure. Adrenaline helps too. Once again, there are lifeguards on watch to make sure no one stays under for too long. If you are traveling as a group, wait until everyone is there so that you're not waiting at the end to get going again. You're going to want to warm up fast.

Catherine, Jessica, and Julian giving it a good think - Pic by Dan Sprague

Next was what many on our team chose as their favourite obstacle, the Mud Mile. This is where we got real, real dirty. What's involved is crawling up and sliding down super slippery mud hills into gloopy water. It's a challenge because it's hard to get a foot or handhold on the hills, plus you can't see where you're stepping underwater, so it's easy to fall into a pit. If you wear contacts, try to keep your head up on the way down the berms to avoid getting grit in your eyes. At this point, you'll be pretty tired, so getting up and over those mud piles is hard-going. And guess what? You'll be doing it twice.

Peter, Mike, and Catherine on the way out... Pic by Dan Sprague

...Zev, Peter, and Erik on the way in - Pic by Dan Sprague

Next up: Smoke Chutes. Up until this point, I felt strong and brave when faced with each obstacle. This is the one time where I had a bit of an "oh shit!" moment. This was partly due to not knowing exactly what to expect. After climbing up a ladder, you get to a platform about 12 feet high. You're presented with the opening to a tunnel, out of which smoke is pouring. Peering into the tunnel, all you see is sheer vertical drop into darkness.

When you ask, you're told by the crew member that the drop turns into a slide that ends in the water. Take a deep breath and drop off the edge. There is not even enough time to feel the drop. In a fast second, you're zipping down a slide so fast, all you hear is whoosh whoosh, and before you can register anything else, you're shot out into waist-deep muddy water. Again, if you are a contact lens wearer, be careful. There is no avoiding getting splashed in the face here.

Up the chutes... Pic by Dan Sprague

...down the chutes! Pic by Dan Sprague

Next up was the Boa Constrictor. If you're claustrophobic, I suppose this one could bug you, but the tunnel you crawl through is not actually that tight, so again, just concentrate on your breathing and you'll be fine. First you crawl through one tunnel going slightly downhill, slosh on your belly out in the open under barbed wire for a metre or two, then enter the other tunnel, which is going uphill. I found this one a bit more difficult because it was slick with mud and water, but training upper body strength helps. At the end, there was a slight slide down a small muddy hill. I went down on my belly and got scratched up a bit, but not terrible.

Astrid emerges unconstricted from the boa - Pic by Dan Sprague

More Bale Bonds and then Everest. Sean Corvelle was back at this one to emcee. He had some helpful tips too. When approaching this slippery quarter-pipe, there is no need to come at it at a full sprint. If you do, you'll just slam into the ramp, impeding your attempt to scramble up. Instead, slow down slightly and lean back. Keep moving, keeping your eye at the top of the ramp where people will be waiting to grab your outstretched hand. Another important tip: to help your awaiting helpers after they've got hold of you, let your legs dangle. If you try to help out by using your feet to climb the rest of the way, you'll be adding weight by pulling back, making their job harder. This one took me 3 or 4 tries, but as soon as I followed Sean's tips, I got it in one go.

Blair gets a hand up Everest - Pic by Dan Sprague

And finally, your last obstacle, Electroshock Therapy. At this point, the end is so close you can smell it -- literally. As the scent of various fried foods in the finish area wafted up to our final hill descent, Jessica had this choice quote to share, "I smell something fried. I don't care what it is - I want it in me!"

Strings of live wires hang down as you run across bumpy, wet, muddy terrain. Having seen the burn marks on my arms from Electric Eel, I wanted to avoid the same on my precious face, so I ran with my arms up in front of me. I don't know if it was because I was all adrenalined up or none of the wires that touched me were live (not all are), but I didn't feel a thing.

You will hear stories coming out of Tough Mudder that seem to be designed to psyche you out, but here is one that actually happened to one of our Mudders, Zev. Running through this last obstacle, he must have gotten zapped in the face by a strong voltaged wire. This was his first realization as he regained consciousness when his face hit the ground after having blacked out from the shock. He was lucky to have come away with just a small cut on his forehead and a great war story.

This might be the moment when Zev (far right) got zapped in the face - Pic by Dan Sprague

And then you're done! And you look and feel like this:

Erik's elation - Pic by Dan Sprague

Angela's accomplishment - Pic by Dan Sprague

And holy wow, is it ever worth it. And after that, all that's left is to cross the finish line and collect your trophy headband and shirt and celebratory Dos Equis beer, the best beer you've ever tasted.

Happy ending - Pic by Dan Sprague

Here are some other random tips that might help you get through:

Do train. We followed the plans on the site. These helped with strength and stamina, but also training as a group helped build camaraderie and kept the motivation levels high. If nothing else, you'll feel more confident going into the event. Can't stress this enough, though: by far, the most important thing to train is hills.

Wear close-fitting clothing. Anything lose will just drag you down as it gets wet. One of our girls wore pants that she ended up tucking into her socks to get out of the way. Check the forecast and dress in layers for warmth if needed. We were lucky with the weather on our day, but could definitely see how being cold and wet would really slow you down and make you hate life.

Gloves or no gloves? Everyone on our team who went without said they were fine. Some people wore them and said they liked them too. If you're iffy, bring 'em (you can pick some up at Mark's Work Wearhouse for around $10) and toss 'em if you don't like. You see quite a few along the way.

There are various parking options provided by Tough Mudder. My carpool opted for the cheapest option, which had us parked about a half hour away, then shuttled to the starting area. This was totally fine -- there were plenty of buses and the operation is run smoothly. However, we discovered that there are residents who live right across the street from the starting area who are offering space to park at their houses FOR THE SAME PRICE. I guess the risk is that by next year, people who remember this option from this year take up all those spots and you'll be stuck paying for something more expensive or driving the half hour back to the cheap lot. And oh yeah, if you can avoid it, do not use the port-a-potty in the cheap lot. Trust me on this. There are lots of non-frightening ones available where the shuttles load, just across the street.

You'll get bracelets in your race package for bag check, entry, and beer. Put them all on before you start. For some reason, a couple of us thought that we'd be returning to our bags before the beer, which wasn't the case, and they're pretty strict about only letting you have a beer if you are wearing the bracelet.

If you wear your number on your front, there's a good chance it'll get torn off going over the various walls. Wearing it on your back, however, significantly decreases your chances of getting official pics taken. We were lucky to have had Catherine's fiancé Dan come as a spectator and take such great photos. I recommend wearing your number on your front and be careful of it going over walls.

Check your bags together. Julian brought his hockey bag and a bunch of us stuffed our packs inside. Saves time at the end.

Wear clothes and shoes that you won't mind leaving behind. Your gear will get so filthy that there's a good chance you'll want to throw them away. There is a big pile of shoes and plastic bags full of clothes that gets cleaned and donated after each event.

Don't forget a clean change of clothes and a towel. You won't be getting squeaky clean, especially since the "showers" (hoses) are freezing, but it would absolutely suck to have to sit in wet, muddy clothes for your ride home.

This is a 2-part post that talks about my first Tough Mudder experience, which took place on September 29th at Mount St. Louis Moonstone. This first part looks at takeaways from the day. Part 2 is a review of each of the obstacles.

Photo by Dan Sprague The first thing anyone asked me when I told them I had signed up for Tough Mudder was “Why?” This was often accompanied with a face that showed a combination of confusion, disgust, and disbelief. I actually know what that face feels like to wear because I’d worn it in the past when hearing about and being invited to participate. Why would anyone subject themselves to what everyone describes as the most gruelling challenge you’ll ever endure in your life?

Photo by Dan Sprague

The question kind of answers itself. It’s because you know and everyone knows it’s going to be tough that you do it. Simply put, to see if you can. ”That which does not kill us makes us stronger," said Friedrich Nietzsche. And it’s true. Every one of us who crossed that finish line on that day was bursting with that “I can do ANYTHING” feeling — such a high. But in order to get it, you have to put in the work.

Photo by Dan Sprague

Our team was made up of current ING DIRECT employees, alumni like me, and a few other friends. Teamwork is one of the themes of Tough Mudder. There are some obstacles, such as Mount Everest, that only the Herculean can do on their own. Even if you are Mudding solo, as our Megan did, the other Mudders are more than happy to help you out. At one point, our team even adopted an orphan, inviting her to be a part of our group of 14. Being a part of a great team makes you realize how important it is.

Photo by Dan Sprague

In fact, when asked what got them through, most of our group attributed the team. “We had an amazing team who were dedicated to making sure we all finished together,” said Catherine. “When I hurt my leg, one of the guys offered to give me a piggyback up one of the hills, I said no, but I was blown away by the offer and the helping hand. A great team made all the difference.”

Official Tough Mudder photo

Put slightly differently, “Peer pressure,” said Rick. “Getting up that first hill it was the thought that I can’t be the only one not to finish, I told everyone I was doing this!” agreed Megan. When under the watchful eye of others, there is an added accountability and drive to finish what you set out to do.

Photo by Dan Sprague

With the exception of Peter, none of us had done Tough Mudder before. We each had an idea of what to expect. Sure, we’d visited the web site, watched the videos, and read the blogs, as well as talked to past Mudders, but everyone’s experience is different. Those who had trained (which some of us did as a group, led by Sofia from Body At Work), felt confident and ready. “I felt really good and prepared. I ran 5k on the 28th and it was like floating,” said Julian. And some, like Jessica, were buoyed by their personalities. “I felt comfortable going into it, not only because I had been training but because I’m too stubborn of a person to give up.” Others, despite having trained, let the hype get to them. Rick: “I was scared sh*tless!” Confidence is one of your most important muscles to build.

Photo by Jonathan Marcella

When asked for their favourite obstacle, the most common answer given was the “Funky Monkey”, which involved hand-over-hand traversing of monkey bars over muddy water. Also common was the reason why. “Going in, I was certain I wouldn’t be able to complete it given my spaghetti-like arms,” said Jessica. “Turns out, I was one of few who conquered that obstacle.” As Megan pointed out, part of the enjoyment was acknowledging the challenge. “I liked Cage Crawl, Smoke Chute, and Walk the Plank, but I think they were a little too easy so you didn’t walk away with bragging rights you know?” One’s sense of accomplishment is directly-related to the size of the challenge.

Photo by Dan Sprague

The bigger challenges proved to be those that relied on a Mudder’s mental chutzpah. “Walk the Plank” had quite a few team members questioning themselves as they stood on a platform 15+ feet high, looking down at mud-opaque water below. The other obstacle that elicited the most anticipatory fear was “Arctic Enema”, a plunge into a vat of frigid ice-cubed water, which necessitated participants to dunk their heads in the middle to get under a barbed wire-topped submerged plank of wood. In these cases, the obstacle was not in front of us, but rather, in our heads. The trick is to focus on the end result, rather than the hard part, which is inevitable, so you might as well just get going.

Photo by Dan Sprague

Finally, if you’ve ever considered doing Tough Mudder, but something held you back, just sign up already. After that, your toughest obstacle by far is already complete. Committing to a task is often the biggest hurdle. Everything falls out from there. Megan had this advice to give: “Don’t take it so seriously, have fun! I was so nervous beforehand, I wasted a lot of energy worrying.” Catherine agrees. “Crossing that finish line is so rewarding, especially when you look back and realize how far you’ve come. Everyone should try it once.”

Photo by Dan Sprague

3 weeks since finishing Tough Mudder, my bruises have faded and my scrapes are just about healed. In the week following the event, I found myself missing the feelings of that day — the camaraderie, the adrenaline, the sheer effort expended in order to get through. Without a big enough challenge, sometimes it can feel like you’re just coasting, going nowhere. Which is OK sometimes, but sooner or later, whether you admit it or not, you’ll need to get down in the muck, if for nothing else, for the high you get once you’re out.

In the last few years, I've been doing a lot of jumping out of the boat. "A lot" is a relative term, but since said jumping includes exiting from a marriage and leaving a good job, then I think it counts as a lot. There are people who see both these actions as why-the-hell-would-you-even-think-to-do-that types of behaviour, so to some, it's downright insane.

I've already written about the process leading up to and the actual jump. Both are labourious and gut-punchingly difficult. But I believe that if you want something to happen, you have to ignite the starting fire yourself. Nothing is going to just happen. That only occurs in bad movies and heavily-edited social media stories that go viral.

As a result of my leaving my good job in search of something even gooder, I ended up in a not-so-good one. Not for me anyway. It was a calculated risk. While it didn't feel like the best fit, I recognized the discomfort as a process of learning and weathered it as best I could until I got laid off a couple of weeks ago. Not a huge surprise. In jumping out of a sturdy boat into a wobbly one, it was inevitable that I should capsize and find myself in the water.

It would be so easy to throw some sharks or piranha into this dreadfully metaphor-laden post, but that would be unnecessary and twee. The fact is, I have a wonderful and highly-appreciated support network, the weather is fine, and the water is warm... with opportunity.

A few weeks ago, I met up with a prospective employer. Since he chose to have us meet at a coffee shop, I looked him up first so that I'd be able to recognize him. I told him what I'd be wearing and gave him a general self-description. Short of arriving with a rose in my teeth, it was pretty much like a blind date.

Once you've done a few of these chats, you know what to expect. You've got your conversation cannon preloaded with answers to questions you know are going to be asked. They start taking on qualities of a well-practised dance routine: a 5 6 7 8, question there, answer here, nod, nod, nod, and smile! Give example, back up point, a touch of disagreement to show backbone...and jazz hands!

There is no point in misrepresentation. Telling someone that you're 4 inches taller, 20lbs lighter, or have experience in way more projects than you actually do will only lead to disappointment and embarrassment. Some things cannot be faked.

Sometimes you hit it off so well with someone that you're apt to think, "This is it! I've finally found what I've been looking for!" but then things sort of fizzle and you realize that things weren't as great as you thought; it's just that you wanted it to work out so much that your judgment was clouded. And if you're really honest with yourself, that corporate culture/the way he slurps his coffee would have grated on you eventually.

So you plod on. Each meeting has as much potential as lining up for a tee shot: the careful positioning, relaxed stance, keep your eye on the ball, take it slow, take it slow, smooth arc, and follow through. If you golf like me, half the time you don't even make contact with the ball. But the *potential* is there. That's the beauty of it.

One of the more irritating pieces of advice you hear when dating is that once you stop trying so hard for love, that's when it'll happen for you. So, what you're telling me is that this thing that I want so much, I gotta not want it, and then I'll get it? Thanks. So helpful.

Turns out it's true. Who knew? I guess it's because in trying so hard for the things we want, we lose sight of the art of the process and the big picture in general, which results in behaviour that actual thwarts our attempts at achieving success. We stand in our own way.

The other big challenge is that in the immortal words of the great Joe Jackson, "You can't get what you want 'til you know what you want." This applies to me so well. In love and in career, I've always had a long list of things that I don't want, but when it comes to what I do want, it's not as clear.

Floating. I was floating when I thought up this blog post. I was floating and I was thinking about pain. I was thinking about how as humans, we are designed to forget painful physical trauma, like, for example, childbirth. We forget so that we can do it again. It's a survival of the species thing.

And then I thought, just as we are able to forget the bad stuff, we seem to pretty easily forget the good stuff too. Like, tomorrow, when I am at the office, wishing I was anywhere but, why couldn't I just remember the feeling of floating in the still, crystal waters of Lake Huron, the temperature so on point that I've lost all sense of where my skin is, sun shining warm and bright down through the lake surface, magnifying and clarifying every grain of sand and algaed stone, beach glass glinting blues, greens, and bottle browns, far away kids' voices happy and calm as they stuff themselves with crackers shaped like goldfish, but tasting like pretzels. All I have to do is remember and be there again soon.

In my last year of university, I signed up for a Mandarin language course at McGill. OK, Mandarin is my first language and yes, I had taken 7 years of Saturday morning Chinese school as a child, but as I've asked you before, dear reader, let's put that aside. Not only was it a nice way to wind down my higher education experience, but I got to declare proudly that I went to McGill (sometimes) as opposed to mumble with inferiority that I was a student at Concordia.

The class was made up of mostly Chinese kids like myself, some of whom already spoke Chinese in varying amounts, either Mandarin, but mostly Cantonese, which meant that some of them they could read and write, but speaking it was slightly different. For most of the kids in the class, this was a slacker credit, but the class also had a small handful of white kids. I was super impressed by some of them and their ability to grasp the language. Even though I'd grown up with it, it is so entirely different from English that I couldn't imagine how they were able to get it. But mangia red bean paste cake accents aside, they did pretty well.

The way the class was structured had me attending 2 lectures a week, each given by a different teacher. One would teach more conceptually about the language, and the other more practical. So, while one teacher would introduce a grammatical or vocabulary concept, the other would do drills and exercises.

The older teacher, Ms. Chang (I can't actually remember her name, so I'm just going to call her that), was the one who taught the linguistic concepts. On that particular day, she was teaching the phrase "所有都", which kind of means "all of the things". The way you would use it is by first declaring a list of items, then "所有都", then your verb clause. For example, "Pizza, fries, cake, and chocolate -- I ate all of those things."

To demonstrate the use, Ms. Chang, a fashionably-dressed lady probably in her fifties, used the example of her devoted mother. First, she listed all the things her mother used to do for her and her siblings: "Cooking, cleaning, making our clothes," then she added the verb and phrase, "all of those things, she did for us."

And then Ms. Chang started weeping. The class was in shock to see their teacher crying in front of them. We were stunned for a few moments in awkward silence until this one nerdy, but funny boy named Oscar (his actual name) broke in with, "Uh...OK, I know a joke!"

'Tis the eve of my 40th birthday. 40. What is 40? Been giving this some thought lately, though not as much as you might think.

The difference between 40 and 30 for me is more acceptance. I suppose more confidence also comes with that. It's the confidence to accept that the way things are, are that way for a reason, and that if I want them to change, then I can make that happen too.

Proof of this: I had a birthday get-together today. My usual birthday ritual is to hide the fact that it's my birthday, then feel sorry for myself that no one cares. But not this year. I just spent an absolutely surreal, but gobsmackingly-fun day with a bunch of peeps at The Backyard Axe-Throwing League, hucking axes at targets. I'm pretty sure that the reason I sucked so bad at axe-throwing was because I was so distracted by the fact that here I was, surrounded by about a dozen of my friends from all different times and places, all having come together for the first time, to chuck axes with me. Even writing that sounds so weird, but that's the way I like it.

Lovely people have been telling me that I don't look 40 and I appreciate that. I like it a lot. Some people ask what my secret is, to which I respond with this reference:

But really, the secret is that there is no secret*. Here are a few things to which I attribute my youthful, dewy looks and happy-go-lucky child-like demeanour:

Having a winning ticket in the gene lottery. Thanks, Mommy and Daddy.

Living a healthy(ish) lifestyle.

Doing what makes me happy.

Avoiding what makes me unhappy.

Being honest when I'm deluding myself about the above two points. Forgiving myself the oversight and trying to do better next time.

Trying to think happy thoughts. Recognizing when I'm bringing myself down with not-so-happy ones.

And surrounding myself with good people. No man is an eyelet. Or however that expression goes.

I by no means have things figured out, but I also know now that that is completely not the point. There is nothing to figure out and how would we know when we had it figured anyway? Ridiculous.

If you're reading this, it probably means that you've played a part in my life up until this point and for that, I thank you! Best birthday ever.

I have this friend called Rich. Lately I've been thinking about what it is about him that has kept us friends for so long. Here's a list:

He's known me for a long time. 13 or 14 years. This means that he knows where I've come from and what I'm capable of. He's able to track my habits. He's heard my stories and I've heard his, which means we focus on what's happening right now.

There's a comfort level of having known someone for so long. It's like, you know all that stuff about me and you're still around? OK, I guess I can just let it all hang out then because it doesn't seem to bother you. There's an honesty there that doesn't happen with simple acquaintances. Lowered guards. I never have to question his intentions or my own.

He calls me out on my bullshit. He seems to know me better than I know myself. When I'm not being honest with myself, he reminds me of that fact and slaps a big reality helmet onto my massive head, which I need sometimes. But at other times, when he knows that I just want a whinge, he'll indulge me with that as well.

He lives far away. I think this is important. I think the distance allows us to sustain the friendship and commit to it more fully because there isn't the obligation of getting together on a regular basis. Would this sense of obligation exist if we lived closer together? Probably. Does this mean that we're not that good friends after all? No, I think it's our personalities that make us this way and the surrounding factors of our friendship are what make it good. Besides, it means that when we do get together, we have a hoot of a time.

We've been through a lot together. Well, apart. Life has happened to both of us. Massive sadness and great triumphs. The stuff that movies are made of. Actually, it's nothing that special--it happens to everyone. But there have been lessons taught in how each other has gotten through the strife. It's shown me that anything is sloggable.

The point is that a lot has happened, much time has passed, and we've come to a point in our friendship, I think, that it doesn't matter what happens going forward, I know I can always count on Rich to be my friend. I've come to understand that this level of friendship means that I don't have to adore and revere him all the time. His stubborn grumpiness and overuse of logic as a weapon against uncontrollable emotion doesn't get to me because I accept it as simply a part of who he is. And when I do stupid things and act like a girl in grade 10 with the self-esteem of a flea, he's there to point that out and remind me I can do better.

Valentine's Day is coming up. No, this is not a post about the material commercialization of human affection, nor is it about the unrealistic expectations of an elusive state of romance set for us by popular media, and it's not about the inherent undefinability of the word either. It's about a much simpler time where love was unjaded and experienced in a more pure form. This is...

Love, the Primary School Years

My kid came home the other day and told me that her bestie Ella and a boy, Clark are now "an item". I asked her what she meant by that because she's only 7 and sometimes repeats things she's heard without actually knowing what they mean. "You know," she replied, "They're boyfriend-girlfriend." I asked her to explain what that entailed. Impatiently, she told me, "You know, like they hold hands and walk with their arms around each other's waists, and when Madame was reading us a story, Ella was sitting beside Clark on the ground and had her legs on top of his."

After school the next day, my kid informed me that Ella and Clark were no longer going out. When I asked what happened, she told me that Clark had dumped Ella because his mother told him that he wasn't allowed to have a girlfriend until he was 18 years old. Tragic.

This got me thinking of my own romantic experiences at that age. In grade 1, I remember falling for Dwayne Armstrong. He was the tallest boy in the class and very handsome. Plus, he had a name like a superhero. One day, he returned my affection and we fell in love. We sat beside each other at storytime and I let him hold my stuffed koala. That night, I went home and asked my mother to help me write him a love note. She still remembers that and the feelings of a/be-musement she had about it. The next morning, I went to school with the note folded into a tight square in my pocket. As soon as Dwayne saw me, he started running in my direction, happily calling my name. I immediately felt embarrassed and repulsed and cruelly snubbed him for the rest of the day. Later that morning, when we went to the library, I tore the note up and threw the pieces into the garbage can.

In grade 3, a new boy joined our class part way through the year. His name was Greg Poole and he was from the States, which was a huge deal. Tall and blond, he wore rugby pants and was good at drawing. He had excellent penmanship and was great at spelling and all the girls swooned over him. One day, I found a secret admirer's note in my desk. The note talked about how special my admirer thought I was and there was a cool styled cartoon of a girl on it.  Later that week, there were more notes from the same admirer. The girls I'd shown it to told me that it was Greg for sure. We giggled and stole glances at him. He was putting up a good show at pretending he had no idea what was going on. At the end of the week, my secret admirer revealed herself to be Karen Bailey, a quiet, sullen arty girl, who used big words and spoke like a grown-up. I felt embarrassed, let down, and confused.

In grade 4, I developed a crush on Michael Senechal. He was the fastest runner in the school (next to Olga Petosa), got Excellence in every activity in the Canada Fitness Test, and was also good at math. Parent-teacher interviews were coming up and because our last names were close together, I knew that Michael's and my parents would be scheduled to visit the teacher around the same time. That day, I'd worn this white bohemian style shirt with a V-neck that had flowers embroidered around the V. That evening, as we were getting ready to go to school, I pushed my thumb down into the fabric at the bottom of the V, tearing the fabric slightly to make my neckline plunge deeper. When we got to the classroom, I saw that Michael was there, so I went over to the bookshelf to ignore him. He came over and said hi, but I don't think he noticed my shirt. I felt ashamed that I'd put so much energy and effort into it and he hadn't even noticed.

In grade 5, a boy named David Chatto told me that he had something to tell me. When I asked him what, he refused to say. This became a game and for the rest of the school year, he would taunt me by saying that he was going to tell me, then he wouldn't. David was known for being able to beat every kid in the class at math flash cards, except for me. It wasn't that I was that good at math--he just seemed to get flustered when standing beside my desk. Finally, on the last day of school, with the encouragement of his buddy Tim, David cornered me by the long jump pit and told me that the secret that he'd been keeping the whole year was that he liked me. Then he promptly ran away, out of the schoolyard and I never saw him again because his family moved to another city. For the whole year, I'd been annoyed by the guy, then as soon as I knew I'd never see him again, I felt so wistful.

* * *

Now that I work in advertising (for 4, going on 5 days now), I will probably start talking about it more. Here's the first ad that I want to bring to your attention:

My friend Steve posted this on Facebook with instruction from the original poster to share it.

At first read, the reaction is likely to be "Yeah! Anti-establishmentarianism! Screw the capitalist pigs! F-word against money-makers! I'm totally spreading the anarchic word!" But hold on to your Doc Martens for a second, Sid Vicious because guess what? The ones who will have the last laugh on this kind of thing are the very ones against whom you seek to rebel. Here's why:

Coke has done a fine job of establishing and reinforcing their brand imagery. It's reached icon status. The copy in the above image is teensy, but it doesn't matter--you could see this from across the room and know it's Coke. In fact, even that particular shade of red alone might pop a thought of cola into your head. So entrenched, the company has even trademarked the exact colour.

In advertising terms, this is called an impression. An impression is the unit of measurement on which all ad costing is based. How many impressions an ad will make determines who much it will cost to buy that space. An impression equals a dollar amount.

So back to the Banksy piece. You saw it, you made the Coke connection, i.e. it made an impression on you → ka-ching for Coke. All right, not exactly ka-ching because you haven't actually bought a Coke yet. But maybe you will later. It's an inadvertant advertisement, allowing me to coin the term inadvertisement.

The majority of the people who will share Banksy's piece in social media will not do what he and/or she is telling people to do, mostly because they don't have the time, skills, or gumption. But they will think about the message which--don't get me wrong--I actually really like. But how can I work in advertising and like this anti-advertiser message? I'm funny like that. Juxta is my favourite position.

What I like about the message is that it brings to light the fact that we are bludgeoned with all sorts of messages telling us how to think. You have free will; use it or lose it. You gotta make informed decisions about what you consume, otherwise you have no one to blame but yourself for the consequences, whether that be physical, mental, or financial health. Your decisions have a direct effect on your world--and mine! So please, for the sake of all of us, try to be a little more thinky before plonking down your dollar, OK? Thanks in advance.