Having a younger sibling is tough. A much younger one is even tougher. There's about 16 years between me and my sister, so being the eldest of three, I'm fastened with the duty of making sure the younger one is included in all that we do. Which is tough, though as she gets older, it's becoming somewhat easier to include her in the things we do. We took her to a Raptors game back in March, and she still talks about it as if it was last week.
My mom is set out to make sure that she never feels neglected and that she gets to do all the wonderful things me and my brother got to do as kids. So this weekend, despite my whining, we went to Toronto Island to spend the day there. My brother got to sneak out of it...he says he had to "work" - I'll bet. But I, having no work on a Sunday nor the excuse of any other usefulness to complete, had to tag along for the day.
The guilt trip I've been using on other people ("I'm leaving in 2 months...don't you want to do what I say before you never get to see me again??") back-fired in my face, Hindenburg-style.
My mom, who should be given a shout-out for her counter-tactic and timing, reminded me that in 2 months, I'll be moving away from the little girl who admires and looks up to me like no other person in the world could be better. That in 2 months, she'll have to live pretty much like an only child and is unprepared to understand how her life will change - couldnt I spend just one day with her doing the things she wanted?
Guilt-ridden and open-mouth I could only gape at that reality and quietly have her lead the way out the door.
Surprisingly, it wasn't all the bad. I even got to go one some of the rides :D . The day was absolute gorgeousness. Not too hot, not too cold, not a lot of sun, clear blue sky. As a result, I got some nice pictures, though I realized afterwards a couple came out a little tilted (do I have some sort of problem with me?? Maybe one leg is shorter than the other...!?).
They're not all that good at all but I thought them nice anyways. I want a new camera! But since my finances are tied up, that's not happening anytime soon (anyone have about $800 lying around?) regardless, here they are:
*Taken on the ferry going to Toronto Island *Tree (one of many tree pictures)
*They need a sign for that? *Sun shining through a tree (one of my favorites)
*The trees here at this point somehow grew to form an archway
* My sister on a ferris wheel ride (she's the one on the left)
*My sister and I went on one those little trains that takes you all around the Centreville theme park area, so I got to take these pictures from there.
*Taken from above, in one of those sky ride things that went from on side of the park are and back.
* Fountain by the garden area *Finally reached the beach
*All of these were taken by the pier and beach by Lake Ontario.
From this point on, I'm forever cursing Dirk Nowitzki, aka "Disco Dirk". Sure, being a good, nay, great player isn't your fault. Nor is it your fault that you signed to the Mavericks. But beating out my team yesterday - you just didn't do right DD. And I did like you before this, despite the hair.
Now poor Timmy has to go fishing. I don't think he even likes fishing!? See what you've forced him to! He could've still been playing strong in the finals with his buddies Tony and Manu. Actually I blame Manu a little for yesterday. But s'all good G. We still love you.
To my brother, the anti-Spurs enthusiast. There will be no "I told you so" around the house. Let's just maintain the peace, and let me mourn my team. Afterall, it's your fault that I'm in this mess to begin with. You and your basketball fanaticism..ism. Let's just move on from this moment, and go with our boy Nash and his team. Purple and orange are my new colours (though black and white will be underneath - behind the purple and red of course).
Tim, my friend, I've looked up to you since your rookie days with the Spurs. When you did those amusing Edge shaving cream commercials with David Robinson. You've come a long way, and to me, you'll always be one of the "good guys" (remember all the awards and accolades you got for that?) and above all, champion.
Keep your arms raised in victory - we've always got next season.
Damn you, White Chocolate Bluberry Scone from Starbucks.
I swear you'll be the end of me.
One day you'll find me passed out with crumbs all around me because I've choken on one of these scones. They're dry, but oh-so-good. It's my Saturday-morning-at-work routine. Tea ("one grande Awake tea, please") and a scone ("oh and a White Chocolate Bluberry scone, why not").
The baristas at the Starbucks have caught on. They know I'm not just being casual. They know they'll see me in there by 10:30 for this request because after that time all the scones are gone. Well except the Whole Wheat Rasperry scones. But who wants to have a whole wheat scone that just tastes like whole wheat toast with jam.
It's next door to my work, how can I resist?! Not even the next block of buildings. It's attached to us. We can literally here them from our lunch room and smell the coffee so I'm pretty helpless in the matter.
It's the time of season.
The grass is green and lush, the flowers are coming into full bloom and the sporadic gushes of rain are short-lasting.
It's spring wedding season.
I'm fortunate that this month I have two very good friends getting married so I'm a part of the festivities. And if you know Indian weddings, there are a lot of them. I'm so very happy for them and I wish them a lifetime of love, happiness and health together in their lives. Etc. etc...
Happiness aside, I can't quite get myself to say the 'M' word without it conjuring up a stream of other thoughts, fears, frustrations, opinions, and more fears.
This is not (yet another) part of my Peter Pan Syndrome. I kinda do want to grow up. But marriage? It seems like a whole other realm of life that I haven't given much of any thought to other than when I'm forced to when the parents bring it up.
Unfortunately for me, lately, that's been pretty much other day.
From my understanding, if you're female from the South Asian persuasion, you have an expiry date. Don't start checking the back of your neck to see what it is. It's not engraved anywhere but in your mind. Before going further, I have to say, that this isn't a mad rant against my culture. I'm not disowning the culture and it's beliefs. But I have to say at some point or another I feel like tearing my hair out.
Actually, come to think of it, maybe it's not just the South Asian culture. It's a stigma everywhere. Women have to be married off by a certain age, or else their called "old maid" or "spinster". While in men, it seems like it's a charming trait to be a bachelor well into your 50s.
I'm not ranting. I'm not. Seriously.
'kay, maybe just a little. I do want to be married someday and have the whole family scenario. But why am I made to feel that it's got to be now or never? I'm constantly reminded of my age. I know what it is, thank you very much. If you didn't know, I was there when I turned 23 this past October.
"23? I was married by your age! When are you getting married!?" >"When I'm done school" "When is that?" >"3 years" "Oh?" >"I'll be 26." "Oh."
I think we have a sick sense of humour here at the bank. It's about 1:50pm and I know that in about an hour and 10 minutes that when we lock the front doors, we'll continue to get people coming up to the door, try pulling at the door once. Look confused, then try harder twice. Then they'll mouth the words "You're closed!?"
>"Yes" we reply with a smug smile. (Saturday's are unbelievable busy. We can't wait til those doors are locked. Our "HI! Can I help you?" smiles come off.) "I just need to do a quick deposit, can I come in" >"nope" more smiling. "Please, just one second" >"Sorry, our policy. Can't let anyone in after 3pm. We were open 6 hours. Come back Monday or use the ABM" "But I bank here! I'm a customer" >Your point?! "I understand. But sorry." Bye bye now. Then we get to watch their frustrated expressions as they're forced to turn around and leave.
Sometime we won't even dignify their door-pulling with a reply. I mean the hours are posted in front of your face. If you pull the door harder at 3:20, it aint gonna open.