Today

There is very little to report about the weekend except that it passed in the blink of an eye. Dallas and I do not sleep well on Sunday nights and I suppose it is because our professional lives have been so strenuous lately. I tend to dream about my to do list, which just screams DORK.

Today is a monumental day for us both professionally and personally. About a month ago, my husband left his job to start a new company with two partners.

Today, his first hire begins work.

Today, revenue will be generated.

Today, we can follow the path of every career decision either one of us has ever made to this specific point.

Today, we intimately understand that the picture of one's life is designed, not accidental.

Today, I must remember to say thank you.

The Friday Whine

I'm sorry.

My job is completely overwhelming these days. I regularly read other bloggers who somehow manage to juggle demanding jobs, demanding children, a demanding social life AND still post every day. I don't know how they do it.
They're preternatural.

Me?
Well, the state of my laundry room makes me cry.
I'm popping headache medicine like it was Pez candy.
I'm eating my weight in the Starburst Fruit Chews that our office manager insists on buying and I'll FIGHT YOU TO THE DEATH for the red ones.
My work phone is the enemy. Today it told me my mailbox was full which forced me to listen to the messages that I had avoided all week. I've become that despicable person who won't take calls and who uses the receptionist as the gatekeeper.
"Delete" has become my most favourite word.
My hair is falling out by the handful which is fortuitous considering I eyeballed the clippers this morning and actually contemplated shaving myself BALD because bald people don't have to worry about humidity and frizz.
My children have not seen a steamed vegetable in a month.
By 10:00 pm, I can no longer form coherent sentences and when the alarm goes off in the morning, anxiety rises in the back of my throat like acid.
My daily task list is unreasonably long and my work days feel impossibly short.
I fight the urge, every single day, not to set my ex husband on fire.
I need a wife.
And a cocktail.
And a Xanax.
And a gratitude journal, apparently.

I had lunch with my husband today and as we were finishing our meal, the weather sirens for our town began to wail.

I don't do tornadoes well. Today was no exception.

Within minutes, I was in the car, racing towards home to collect Dylan. The wall cloud was dark and menacing and stretched as far as I could see. The sky beneath it had that telltale green hue that accompanies tornadoes. I repeatedly dialed Dylan's mobile and each time, it went to voice mail. I could feel panic percolating just under the surface.

I got home to find my son in a similar state. We grabbed a cushion off the chesterfield and huddled in the closet under the stairs. The storm passed. We were safe.

As I drove back to work, I did a little mental recalibration and decided that I needed change my attitude.

I am very fortunate to be busy enough in my job to be overwhelmed. I could be standing in an unemployment line like so many others in my town. My children are healthy in spite of their lack of broccoli and really, the situation is temporary.
We're moving to Florida where tornadoes are rare. Really, all things considered, life is good. I'm grateful.

I still want to set my ex husband on fire, though.

Can Anal Retentiveness Be Cured?

I have got to learn how to delegate. Really.

It's not that I'm a total egoist who believes that nobody can do it as well as I can because I'm pretty sure that the world is full of people who are much more capable than me. The problem is that I am Type A.

Pathologically so.

And whether it is work, home, a leaky rental roof or picking a new dentist in a new town, I get horribly uncomfortable when I am unfamiliar with every, last detail. Consequently, my daily to do list is OUT OF CONTROL. Lately, I have been waking up in the morning with a pressing sense of panic wondering how it is that I am going to get everything accomplished. What item do I pick to tackle first when there are so many things that require my attention RIGHT NOW?

I am overwhelmed. Completely.

On the home front, We've got a leaky rental house, the pending move to Florida, a new home to find, new schools to research, small improvements that need to be done like painting and carpet cleaning to make our family home ready to rent out, sorting through moving company quotes, PACKING, the beloved IRS, summer daycare for the kids and all of the other normal, everyday activities in the life of a family.

Professionally, I have had to give up some of the control. I have been forced to admit that I cannot possibly juggle all of my projects and still give 100% to each of them. And I am quite happy to shift some of the responsibility onto the shoulders of my colleagues but I am struggling with the whole fear thing because at the end of the day, the buck stops squarely at my desk. So, at 42 years of age, I am going to have to learn the art of delegation. And it is an art. There's a fine line between following up with people and micromanaging them into a nervous break down. Guess where I drift.

Um...yeah. (Head hanging shamefully)

I think I could use a few tips.

Viva Las Vegas Part One

I was pleasantly surprised with my trip to Las Vegas this time. Being with Steph made all of the difference in the world because she saw things through new eyes and it forced me to revisit all of those elements that make the city great. With my tired and jaded viewpoint, I'd forgotten how fun Las Vegas could be.

We landed just after 6pm Sunday night, got our luggage fairly quickly and rushed to our hotel to check in as we had dinner plans with our client. We stayed at the Planet Hollywood hotel, formerly the Aladdin, which is evident in the magic lamp bathroom fixtures and the purple towels.

It was just okay.

The pervasive smell of cigarettes was everywhere. Even our floor, which was supposed to be non smoking, reeked of stale smoke. The room was a good size and the lighting favourable for someone like me an aging movie star who curses the invention of HDTV but for anything practical like trying to navigate the room without bumping into furniture, it could have withstood a few more high wattage bulbs. On the plus side, it was easy on the wallet and the location was excellent. There was one more thing....

The full length mirror on the wall opposite the bathroom took 20 lbs off my physical frame.

I was delirious.

With joy.

Listen, the ration self understood that this was an optical illusion. The other larger, more influential self, didn't give a shit. I actually contemplated the mechanics necessary to take the mirror home with me but it was BOLTED to the wall. Clearly, the powers that be knew of its intoxicating effects and had planned for the nutbar who'd try to make off with it. That mirror made me feel just the slightest bit like a really famous person who surrounds herself with sycophants. Every time I looked at my reflection before heading out for the night, I could almost hear one of my imagined assistants telling me that I looked fabulous and that of course my skirt wasn't too short for a woman my age. In the same way that sexy underwear changes the way you carry yourself, that mirror did wonders for my self esteem.

After we checked in and dropped our luggage, we dined with our client at a decent steakhouse. Then, we called it a night. No gambling, no shows, no boobie cards (more on that later) and no alcohol. My halo positively RADIATED.

Monday morning, we were up at the ass crack of dawn, shoveling down a typical Las Vegas breakfast buffet (expensive, expansive and soaked in greasy goodness) and then off to the convention center to set our booth. For those of you that have worked a trade show, you know that it is grueling. The hours are long, the conversation a barely modified regurgitation from one person to the next and the food is crappy and overpriced.

After we had set the booth, Steph and I went out on the town for a little Las Vegas flavour. It did not disappoint.

In the next Vegas installment, dude looks like a lady, booby cards and a trip down memory lane.

The Sunshine State

Where the heck have I been?

I know how annoying it is to see a lack of fresh material day after day and I apologize. My work life has been out of control lately and in this economic environment, I am very fortunate that my cup runneth over.

For the last couple of weeks, my time has been divided between two enormous projects. The first one had me researching and writing the business plan that proposed the formation of a new company. The other involved the debut of a product line that has been in development for close to two years. Next month, I will stand by my client as his innovation is introduced to the world retail market. It's all very exciting. And exhausting.

I was crazy busy but managing well until last Thursday when my boss and the chairman of the company dropped the F bomb.

The corporate home office is relocating to Florida.

And I was invited to make the move.

After hearing that news, I went from being busy to being completely overwhelmed. What about the kids? And our ex spouses? And our houses? And our friends? And my husband's job? And that income? And...

We live in Bentonville, Arkansas which is a surprisingly modern small town with all of the amenities and a great regional airport thanks to the fact that three large companies are headquartered in this region. The schools are great, the traffic manageable and the weather gives us four distinct but moderate seasons. Some of the best Harley riding in the US can be found in this area. For a big city girl, I've become remarkably attached to this town. I've been here for ten years and it's a wonderful place to raise children.

When Dallas was told, he was equally stunned and the two of us spent most of this last weekend trying to assess the situation. We scoured the internet for information on housing costs, schools, taxes, amenities, culture and all those things that grown ups consider when weighing a decision like this. We sought the advice of parents, friends and colleagues. We drew up pro/con lists. We LABOURED over this decision.

Yesterday, I spoke with one of my colleagues in Florida and after our conversation, the answer became crystal clear to me. I stepped outside, called Dallas and explained how I felt.

Together, we came to a conclusion.

In early August, just after the celebration of our first wedding anniversary, Dallas, Olivia, Dylan, manchild and I will become Florida's newest residents.

Alligators, mosquitos and hurricanes, be damned.

Texas Hospitality

Sorry to be away so long. Things have been absolutely insane lately. More about that later.

Last week, I was in Dallas to witness the first production run of a product that took seventeen long months to bring to market. Watching a pallet being stacked with the first cases off the line was a tad emotional for me.

It was like giving birth.

With a really LONG gestation period.

Like an elephant.

I took pictures.

And stroked one of the cases lovingly while whispering, "Fly off the shelf, baby".

I called for a taxi to take me to the airport for the flight home. It was driven by a very, very, very large man and as I climbed into the minivan, I was hit with the overpowering scent of cinnamon. I commented about the smell. I think I said, "Wow! your car smells like Christmas"...or something like that.

He enthusiastically held up a bottle of pink Febreeze which turned out to be Apple Spice Delight fragrance. And I am sure that under normal circumstances, it is probably a lovely scent but the dude kept spraying little puffs every five minutes or so and what was at first, a pleasant diversion quickly turned into a cloying, eye-watering, get-me-out-of-this-vehicle experience. I was afraid my clothes would be saturated with the smell by the time we reached the airport. I struggled not to gag.

I rolled down the window in an effort to keep breakfast in my stomach and as the cloud of Christmas was swept outside, I understood why the driver kept his Febreeze bottle so handy. Buried underneath all of that apple and cinnamon, was a mixture of sour sweat, greasy fries and dirty bum. There was a large, grimy patchwork comforter inhabiting the front passenger seat and a small suitcase in the very back of the van. Then, it hit me.

My driver was living in his taxi.

Since I am not the most subtle girl on the block, I came out and asked him what was up with the bedding in the front seat. I half expected him to tell me he napped between fares but he unselfconsciously confirmed my suspicions and shared that he was homeless after foreclosing on his house. For the rest of the day, I had a hard time thinking about anything else.

It's really not a level playing field out there and I suppose we are all products of the choices we've made but as I snuggled next to my hubby in our king bed that night, after a hot shower and a home cooked meal, in our comfortable house, in our sleepy, safe neighbourhood, I felt a gratitude that has been absent for a few months.

I despise the use of the cliché, "it could be worse" but when I think about where that taxi driver is likely to lay his head tonight, I know that for some people, the worst has arrived.

Makes my heart hurt.

Trip to Boise

This week, I got the opportunity to visit Boise, Idaho on business. When I first learned that this was a trip I had to make, I was not thrilled. I don't particularly care for travel anymore since a significant amount of time over the last four years has been spent outside of the US. For me, getting on a plane has become a bit like a fork in the eye.

I'm not sure what I was expecting, potato farms perhaps, but Boise blew my mind.

It is a beautiful place, nestled into the foothills of the Rocky mountains. Being the capital of Idaho, Boise has all of the amenities that come with the government crowd. There are great restaurants, theatre, decent shopping and a good school system. The city has been planned well and traffic was a dream except for stop lights that seemed interminable. I didn't get to see much this time around so I look forward to a return visit. It's an easy place to like. Two or three people told me that they had first landed in Boise to attend a wedding or to go to school and they just never left. I completely understood why.

I went there to see Nutrivet, a client that I've had for a couple of years now. They are way ahead of the times with their approach to animal health. They firmly believe in preventative versus reactionary care, which is somewhat revolutionary in respect to pets. A lot of people feed and water their furry friends and take them to the vet when they are sick. They get the recommended vaccines and call it a day. As pet owners, we can be doing more, though. Just like we pop our vitamin C and take our flax oil, Nutrivet tries to prevent illness by offering a line of nutritional and problem-specific supplements designed to optimize pet health. Got a dog that eats his poop? They've got something you might try. Skittish cat? No problem. There's an aromatherapy diffuser for that.

I think that as medical costs for pets escalate like everything else, it will increasingly make sense for us to try to take care of our animals through more holistic means. Consider big breed dogs and their chronic issues with osteoarthritis. Instead of filling them full of nsaids, which is really hard on the lining of their stomachs, wouldn't it be better to start them on bone and joint supplements as puppies to try to prevent these issues? Our animals are subjected to the same environmental pollutants as we are. Their food is as heavily processed as ours. It's no wonder that cancers, auto immune disorders and allergies are on the rise in our animals. Why would they be any different than us?

Anyway, I like this company. The owners are dynamic, generous and passionate about their business. They want to make a difference. I respect that.

And if they really have found a way to lessen the odour of the litter box in my house, I will be eternally grateful. I'll keep you posted on how that product works out.

Which brings me to the PS of this post. On Mondays, I will begin posting a product review over at my sister site, "Wack-In-Review". I'm not sure of the exact format yet but check it out on Monday and tell me what you think.

Viva Las Vegas

What can I say about Las Vegas that hasn't already been written?

It is bright lights and performance on an unimaginably grand scale. It is hookers and junkies and all night buffets. It is surgically enhanced breasts, one arm bandits and celebrity sightings. It is trade shows, displaced New York cabbies and endless tour busses. It is the personification of excess in the human condition soaked in alcohol and with a wallet full of cash. A weekend trip is a little slice of naughty. A full seven days is like having an ice pick jammed into your brain.

Our team stayed at the Bellagio and when we first made these reservations, I was excited. I've had the opportunity to bunk at several different Las Vegas properties but I had heard that the Bellagio was pretty swank and I was looking forward to the luxury.

Perhaps my multitude of trips over to the Orient has spoiled me but I felt the Bellagio was just okay. I got to my room and was THRILLED with the bathroom. It was large enough in which to host a cocktail party and had one of those lighted magnifying mirrors for the terminally middle aged. The bathrobes were thick and luxurious, bedding was lovely and mini bar was stocked should I lose my mind and choose to indulge in an $8 bottle of Fiji water.

I hooked up my computer and clicked on my browser, expecting to get the usual message about internet fees, blah, blah, blah but nothing happened. Hmm. Strange. So, I called down to the main desk to inquire as to what I was doing wrong.

"We aren't wired for WiFi ma'am." (Five Star hotel? In 2008?)

"Uh, okay. Where is the ethernet cord kept?"

"We have one available for purchase through your mini bar. It's in the basket with the chocolates and our world famous Bellagio chips. It's $13.99 but be careful ma'am. The items are hooked into a sensor and if you take it out of the basket, you are automatically charged." (Of course.)

Reluctantly, I purchased the cord and was sorely disappointed to find that it was not dipped in platinum and encrusted with diamonds.

And somewhere in the visit, my "Do Not Disturb" sign disappeared, never to return. This would have been fine except that one evening, I went to bed before midnight.

The night before, I'd had a thousand cocktails, a few nasty cigarettes and settled into bed for a mere two and a half hour snooze before my alarm went off. I got up, had a shower, started a caffeine IV and stood on my feet all day. I had the kind of headache that cannot be managed with water and ibuprofen. I needed sleep. So that night, when the rest of the team went out for dinner and cocktails, I declined and dragged my sorry ass back to the hotel room. I had a shower, brushed my teeth and slid gratefully into dreamland....

Until 10:40 pm when housekeeping banged on the door in an attempt to turn my bed down. I staggered up, threw on a robe and opened the door but she had already moved on to the next room after finding my security lock engaged. When she came out, I asked her for another "Do Not Disturb" sign and was told she would take care of that for me. I never got another one. And my clock was never changed to the correct time after daylight savings ended. And one ceiling light was burnt out and never replaced. And there was no shower gel. And the chocolates that they left during the turn down service tasted like Hershey's (yuck). And there was no pen with the stationary set. And the bathroom scale lied.

The one really great event of the week was attending Cirque du Soleil's show, "O", which was playing at the Bellagio's theatre. I'm at a loss to describe how fantastic this was. The Cirque du Soleil organization has the uncanny ability to stimulate every single sense during one of their performances. I have been fortunate enough to attend shows in San Diego and Florida and they never cease to amaze me. They are worth the steep ticket price.

So, aside from the show, I wasn't much impressed with the Bellagio even though David Duchovny was apparently laying his head down under the same roof. Paris Hilton showed her face, which did nothing for me but sent a shiver through the crowd. Next time, I'm likely to stay at the MGM or try to convince my boss to pony up a few more bucks and house us at the Wynn.

As I was preparing to leave my room for the last time, I took both door keys and laid them on the small table beside the bed like I always do. I opened all of the drawers and closets and did a sweep of the bathroom to be sure that I hadn't left anything behind. As I muscled my bulging suitcase out into the hallway, I caught sight of my $14 ethernet cord hanging from the desk as the door swung shut.

Viva Las Vegas.

Like Sand Through An Hourglass...

My kids have been out of school this week, which is an unfortunate pitfall of a non-traditional school calendar. I'm not sure what my expectations of year round school were except that I thought they would be in school...umm...ALL YEAR!

Not the case. In our school system, the interpretation of year round school means that the summer holiday is shortened by several weeks and then those filthy days are spread out in week long segments through out the year. Practically every month, the kids have a week off, PLEASE KILL ME NOW which affords all of us parents the ability to spend some quality time with our little tykes.

"Don't complain", says the administration, "It gives you plenty of opportunity to vacation during off peak times with your children." Oh yes. And this would be of great benefit if one actually believed that a holiday included children, ketchup and bug spray. Please. I love my kids (obligatory preface) however, my idea of a vacation involves a tropical beach, very little clothing and plenty of distilled beverages.

In the past, I have been forced to work from home and as you know, that is a lot like a bikini wax in that there is just nothing positive you can say about it. This time, Dallas has looked after the children, allowing me to flee go to the office and I can't begin to describe how leisurely the last week has been.

Every day, I have had a coffee waiting for me on the bathroom counter after my shower. My breakfast has been prepared and lunch is delivered to my office. The children are fed, watered and entertained and dinner has been on the table by five thirty. The laundry is done, the house cleaned, the lawn mowed and I haven't had to grocery shop in forever. Come to think of it, most of my days are like this even when the children are in school. Dallas takes care of EVERYTHING. Except the carpool and for some reason, the whole Perry Como vibe goes straight to hell when I've got a car full of kids.

Imagine that.

This week was full of small delights. Yesterday, I had the luxury of having lunch with a friend.. at a restaurant..LIKE A NORMAL PERSON! Usually, I stay at my desk so that I can leave work early to fulfill my carpooling duties. On Wednesday, I rode my Harley into work. I parked it right outside of my office window. There was something supremely satisfying about sitting on that bike and changing from my riding boots into my kitten heels. I have slept an extra half hour every morning because that is usually how long it takes for me to wrangle Dylan and Olivia into the car on school days. Not once have I had to say, "Do you have your lunch?" Pure, unadulterated joy.

Next week, we are back to the usual routine and ten days from now, Dallas is starting his new job so my hours of being pampered like a queen are numbered. I had always wondered what it would be like to have someone taking care of every last detail and I envied my male counterparts whose wives did not work outside of the home. Now that I have sipped from the domestic bliss cup, I'm not sure that I'll ever be satisfied with the status quo. So, I'm going to savour every minute of the last few days that I have left of this fantasy life that we've been living.

Shhhh...please do not wake me when it's over.

It's the Small Things

Well, I am home from China and back in the office. And I know that I have been neglecting you internet. I am aware that my posts have been random and scattered like bird shit on a Chevy. I will try to do better. Really. So you can stop sending me hate mail, okay?

My trip was productive. The thing about trade shows is that you either love them or hate them. Guess how I feel? Unfortunately, they are a necessary evil. So, being the glass half full gal that I am, I chose to focus on those things that made me laugh.

Take the medical supplies portion of the fair. I walked into the hall and booth after booth presented an array of products from stone massage slippers to portable blood pressure devices. There wasn't much that made me chuckle, until this:


Now I know that you are looking at this picture and wondering what in the world I might find funny. Look closely. This was a medical devices booth. They were peddling everything from ventilators to blood glucose strips. See it now? Maybe this will help:

Yep. Those would be COFFINS!! And cremation urns on the back shelf. Talk about a one-stop shop. Heck, if they can't cure you, they're happy to help dispose of your diseased arse. With a completely straight face, I had one enthusiastic sales rep extol the virtues of the latest and greatest "earth friendly" version: cardboard. (far right of the picture..the water bottle is a nice touch)

"Very popular", he said. Yeah, I'll bet.

Later on that day, we had to make our way back to Hong Kong via the train. I LOVE taking the train. It's comfortable, equipped with toilets that have seats and refreshments are served. The absolute best part is the waiting area where everyone has to congregate before boarding. It is here that I plug in my iPod and unabashedly stare watch people from all over the world. I've already gone on about how differently European men dress from Americans. If they were all to land on US soil tomorrow, the gay men in this country would be in an uproar because metrosexual Europeans jam the gaydar, especially when they wear capri pants. What I admire most, though, is that no matter how eclectic the dress, European boys have got some serious style.

Unlike this poor woman who was either blind or in serious need of a mirror.

Excuse me ma'am. Where did you say you parked your broom?

The last night that I was in Hong Kong, my friends took me to eat in a district known for fresh seafood. All of the restaurants are fairly similar in price and offerings so the second that we got out of the taxi, we were approached by numerous people trying to lure us into their restaurants. We walked through narrow alleyways that were lined with fish tanks. The ground was soaking wet and the air was pungent with the scent of the sea. Everywhere I looked, I saw these:

It's a Geoduck Clam. My friends called it an Elephant Nose. I'm sure it's tasty but I just couldn't get my head around the appearance. Just another phallic looking treat from the ocean to keep the sea cucumber company. Every time I look at that picture, I giggle.

So now that the glow of international travel has faded, it's the small absurdities that help to make it all tolerable. I suppose I'm fortunate that my mind is a giant junk yard because everyday, while sifting through the garbage, I usually find a treasure or two and who can really ask for more?

Home Office Hell

Yesterday, was day two at home with my children while trying to work. They are not in school this week which has caused me to have to operate from my home office. Normally, I would welcome the ability to have conference calls in my pajamas but not this time.

They.are.driving.me.crazy.

Olivia has a magical Hallowe'en bucket. It appears to replenish itself. I'm finding candy wrappers all over the house: under beds, stuffed beside the cushions of furniture, tucked away under clothes in her drawers- EVERYWHERE. She still has not made the cerebral connection between mass quantities of candy and a bad belly so I had to take the bucket away yesterday which resulted in her repeatedly throwing herself on the floor. She hasn't done that since she was two. After that episode was finished, she was understandably drained and asked if I would help her find some mind numbing cartoons. I gave in and let Nickelodeon babysit.

Then, Dylan and two of his friends slammed into the house and banged up the stairs where they proceeded to play "Guitar Hero" loud enough to make my molars ache. I usually try to be that cool mum who has refreshments available and favoured snacks on hand because I want the neighbourhood kids to hang at my house where I can make sure that they're not snorting too many lines. But yesterday, I couldn't take the cacophony one second longer. I was working on cost sheets and after hearing "Smoke On The Water" FIVE HUNDRED TIMES, the numbers were swimming on my computer screen. I had to throw the boys out. "But we're thirsty," my son complained. "There's a hose on the side of the house," I replied, while fastening the dead bolt.

By the end of the day, I was grateful to get in the shower. Friends of mine had invited me out to dinner and the thought of adult conversation and alcohol of any kind was beyond appealing. I practically skipped out to my car.

Once inside, I turned on the iPod, jacked up volume, opened the garage door and

PROCEEDED TO SLAM INTO MY BABYSITTER'S CAR,

which was parked in the driveway.

Well, shit.

Today, I get to go into my real office. With a receptionist. And relative quiet. And no SpongeBob, no kitten high on catnip, no pre-adolescents making fart sounds with their underarms, no bag of popcorn being set on fire in the microwave, no tantrums, no wrestling, no "Mummy! Can you PLEASE wipe my bottom!".....

I've never been more grateful to walk into my 100 square feet of occupational bliss.

Spandex Is Not My Friend

I have only a couple of things for you today.

First of all, I loathe my bathroom scale. It lies. Whore.

Everyone tells me that the weight loss is really noticeable, which I believe because the pants that I wore three weeks ago can now be removed without undoing the zipper. The cerebral part of the self knows this. But the emotional side of me just goes bat shit when I get on that machine and the digital read out says the same thing it said yesterday...AND THE DAY BEFORE...AND THE BLEEDING DAY BEFORE THAT!!!

All I want is a steaming bowl of tortellini, a loaf of warm bread and a bottle of 2003 Amarone Allegrini. And I want chocolate. Heaps of it. But noooo.....I don't give in because hanging on the back of my bathroom door is the Miracle Suit in all of it's girdle-like glory. I would rather watch a George Bush State of the Union speech (with the volume turned up) than face having to pull that baby on ever again.

So. I'll munch on my celery and try to be content.

In other news....

My.Deal.Came.Together.....For real.

My friend called me and said two words, "It's done." For the first few minutes, I sat in my office and stared out the window because I was quite certain that hell had just frozen over and I was interested to see what flying pigs might look like. Then I exhaled with the realization that I had been holding my breath.

Then, I reached for the power switch on my calculator and turned it on.........

Let's Make A Deal

Just when I was sitting around the office wondering how I was going to earn my keep next year, an old friend of mine dumped an opportunity in my lap. At first glance, it looked pretty exciting but then again, I've had several things come my way over the last four years that I was convinced would buy me that villa in the south of France. Then, something would happen. A buyer would leave or the product would suddenly become unavailable and I'd watch the home run turn into a strike out.

So with a skeptic's eye and a pessimist's heart, I agreed to make a few phone calls because what the heck? After years of slinging mud at the hut, something was bound to stick one of these days.

Whatevah.

Then late last week, some of the elements of the deal started to come together and I allowed myself just a sliver of hope.

And I began to knock on wood.

In earnest.

However, I did not allow myself to pull out the calculator and speculate on commission income because that would indicate an emotional investment in the eventual outcome.

WHICH WOULD CAUSE LOCUSTS TO RAIN DOWN AND THE SEAS TO TURN TO BLOOD.

Instead, I shrugged it off, enjoyed my weekend and arrived at work Monday completely detached. To my amazement, still more pieces slid into place. I had to remind myself to keep my head down and just put one foot in front of the other. "Due diligence," I whispered. "Find the deal spoiler." Indeed.

And as fortune would have it, yesterday I was given a glimpse at the bastard proverbial wrench-in-the-deal person. You know the guy I'm talking about. He's the control freak with the hidden financial kickback agenda who enters a room wild-eyed with suspicion, convinced that the world is going to swindle him of his last penny. He squawks out of both sides of his mouth about integrity while deftly slipping the knife between your shoulder blades. I've been fortunate enough to walk the path with his type before so this time, I was able to spot him, anticipate his game and neutralize him before he had a chance to kill the deal.

I lightly fondled the calculator yesterday but still, I didn't go there. I just couldn't. My friend, who handed me the opportunity in the first place, called me at home last night. He was so excited. It was infectious. I felt it bubbling up inside of me, too. He was confident that the deal was 95% done.

Every minute or so during our conversation, I was knocking on wood and throwing salt over my shoulder.

Pure, unadulterated, wack a do.

The CEO and president of my company have been out of the country and are scheduled to return at the end of the week. It's been a challenging final quarter for all of us. If this deal gets done, it should be inked by Friday. It would be nice to tell them that we finally knocked one out of the park.

T.G.I.F.

Oh, thank GOD it's Friday.

I'm taking today off to see to some personal business and I have never been so happy to welcome the weekend. This has been a monstrously stressful week at the office and I'm not even bearing the full brunt of the issues. My Seinfeldian workmate in one of our satellite offices has had to be the face to our customers and I can only imagine how hard he's hitting the bottle this week has been for him.

This weekend, I'm planning to ride and golf. Close your eyes. I sound like a guy, don't I? I probably need to check that. Anyhoo...Saturday, a friend from work and I will be participating in the last poker run at our Harley store. I've never ridden in one before but apparently, you start at the dealership and then cruise to several different locations. At each place you will be asked to draw one card. Everyone stops for lunch and then rides back and assembles their cards into a poker hand. Best one wins. I don't know what the prize is but who cares? Just getting the itch scratched is enough.

Sunday morning I'm golfing and in the afternoon, Dallas and I are going to ride out to one of our favourite places for a late lunch. The route is lined with huge sugar maples so the scenery should be spectacular. Besides, I love spending time with him.

The weather is chilly enough that I'll have to dress like a serious biker chick. Gloves, my new jacket and leather chaps will be the outfit du jour on both days. Chaps are naughty. It doesn't matter that they serve a purpose. They're wicked. You just never know what a girl might be capable of when she's wearing a pair of chaps.

It's Hallowe'en..finally

I apologize for the lack of posts. I'm absolutely swamped at work and all hell has broken loose over the quality issue that first came to light while I was in China. It's a huge deal and I'm sick about it. It's one of those situations where there is no solution in sight so that tense, thick knot of yuck doesn't dissipate.

Olivia woke up this morning at the crack of flipping 4:00 am dawn and announced that today was Hallowe'en. She did this yesterday and Monday too, so when she put her chubby little hands on my face and got this close to me to make her announcement, she was somewhat uncertain.

(Sigh) "Yes, Liv. It's Hallowe'en today but Mummy needs to sleep for a bit longer or she'll be a wicked witch all day long."

"Mama, that's okay. Even witches get candy." Yes, I suppose they do and with that, I surrendered and got out of bed.

There is nothing like a child to help you put things into perspective.

(pictures to follow later on today)

The Fat Lady Sang

Well, it's finally over. I just landed in Taipei and in forty minutes or so, I'll be boarding the plane back to Los Angeles.

I am always a bit sentimental on my way home and one of my friends in Hong Kong sort of summed it up. She said I have one foot in Canada and one foot in the States but my heart is in Asia. I think that is probably true and under different circumstances, I might have chosen to move to the Far East. Not now, though. Besides the effects that such a move would have on my children, I can't imagine breathing that air for the rest of my life.

For some reason, the pollution seemed to be worse or perhaps I was just more aware. I traveled all over the eastern seaboard this trip and I did not experience ONE clear day. At eight o'clock in the morning, it was still dark enough to require lights on in the hotel room. The outdoor plants had a visible layer of grime on them. Besides the burning of coal for electricity, the emergence of the middle class, with their new found affluence has led to record auto sales and staggering traffic congestion. Carbon emissions are way up and the predicted results are noticeable. It's heartbreaking, really.

On a positive note, things went well at the fair. Trade shows are just a giant pain the the arse but this one is so well organized that you can focus on a single section and get heaps accomplished with limited time.

The naughtiest subtext during the show was boy watching. Again, I don't understand why I have never noticed before but WOW! European men dress distinctly differently than Americans. They tend to be more daring and their clothes always look tailored. One disturbing trend that I witnessed was capri pants....for men. Look, I know that they are comfortable. I've got a closet full of them and they are so convenient when one is trying to manage warmer temperatures but there is just no way to make those things masculine. In an understated, quiet, sucker punch kind of way, capri pants are flamboyant. You can put camo all over those bad boys and they're still going to look like they belong in Boy George's drawer.

On a weird note: I am some kind of freak Turkish man magnet. I'm not sure what the draw is (fat ass, perhaps) but I was approached several times and the conversation never varied much.

"Hello. Where are you from?" Usually asked while standing side by side in the booth, perusing aphrodisiacs like steak knives and vinyl flooring.

"US."

"Ah...American." Said with a knowing tone and a little nod which inexplicably made me feel like he might be friendly with some of the skeletons in my closet.

At this point, I usually smiled and tried to move away. In response, he would ask me where I was staying in Guangzhou and inquire whether I might like to meet later. I have never been to Turkey and I cannot talk intelligently about the culture. The one opinion I heard was from an old Greek roommate of mine and I would not characterize her opinion of the Turkish population as unbiased. Apparently, the whole Cypress issue is still raw. In any case, I declined the invitations because I was busy....getting massages...after work.
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I got called to board my plane before I could post so now I am in Los Angeles overnight. As we descended, you could see how the city was blanketed in ash from the fires. It's been devastating, especially for San Diego County. I spoke with one of my best friends who lives in La Mesa and she sent a few pics that I'll post over the next couple of days. I just hope that this disaster is handled better than some of the others the nation has faced over the past couple of years. In the shuttle on the way over to the hotel, we experienced a light sprinkle. I've never seen it rain BLACK before. Eerie.

Hangzhou the Beautiful

Hangzhou has been lovely but exhausting. The first day, we did not go on our marathon car ride. Instead, we checked into the Shangri-La (De da) and then met with one of our suppliers. Later on, we went for a boat ride on the famous West Lake.

The streets are immaculate and there is manicured landscaping everywhere , which is normal for Chinese cities but Hangzhou stands out as among the most impressive.

This lake sits right across from our hotel and was originally a small sea inlet. Then some emperor decided to dump a bunch of silt and presto, a lake was formed. Kazelles, one of my work friends, was concerned about getting in the boat because she doesn't swim. She had nothing to be concerned about, though. The average depth of the lake is only around five feet.

After the canoe ride, we took a cab to this great market in the heart of the city. Hangzhou is famous for its silk and its Longjing cha (Dragon Well tea) and this market is known for the quality of its handmade goods.

I managed to get tea, some unique verbena incense and this incredible handmade replica of an old Harley-Davidson motorcycle. It's wrapped and packed away but I'll snap a picture of it once I'm home. It's a nifty conversation piece.

Today was the day that we had to make the four hour trek out to the factory. I was pleasantly surprised. Yangzhou is a busy, thriving city and not at all what I expected. Our factory contacts were gracious hosts and lunch was actually quite good. No heads, feet or fins to be seen. Afterward, we quickly toured the place and drove another TWO hours to a second factory. Again, the people were great. I learned all about toothpaste production and the unexpected plus at this place was that it smelled really good.

Then, we climbed back into the car, got lost for and hour and then spent another two traveling back to the hotel. Early tomorrow morning, we are flying back to Guangzhou for the second half of the Canton Fair. I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. That is, I could see a light until I spoke with the president of my company. Apparently, we've got quality issues with some of our product in California so it looks like I'm going to have to rearrange my schedule to make a pit stop in Santa Barbara on my way home.

Sometimes it feels like it never ends.

Beijing

I love Beijing. We landed here Saturday night and it was like coming home. I could easily live here. With the evergreens and the mountains, it reminds me of Canada. The last time I was here was in the winter and I had forgotten how the cold, sharp air can make your lungs sing. This time, Beijing is in the first stirrings of fall and it is beautiful in spite of the smog, which is worse than Los Angeles.

Before heading out to our factory, I got up early yesterday morning and took a cab out to the only Harley dealership in mainland China. I'm pleased to share that the biker spirit is alive and kicking in Asia. I had a nice chat with the general manager who took me outside and showed me his bike. He rides an '07 Electra Glide Ultra Classic. It was a gorgeous cherry red and he had added a bunch of accessories. Even though he had changed out his pipes, Beijing noise laws had prevented him from being able to put on real rumblers. I showed him pictures of my bikes and we bonded. I ended up buying a couple of shirts and a new leather jacket from them. He was kind enough to give me a discount. Bonus.



From there, we went to the factory and had a very productive meeting. Of course, we had lunch and since they know that I like spicy food, they had the restaurant make me a special fish dish. I'm not sure that I have an esophagus left. It made my eyes water and I could have lit a cigarette with my breath.


Those black things are whole peppercorns and the red bits are dried chili peppers. This, not vitamin C, is how you kill viruses.

Anyway, we're at the airport now and off to Hangzhou where I will suffer through four miserable hours driving out to a factory, where they have probably never seen a "gui lo" (Chinese slur for caucasians). I can't bear to think what lunch might be like. Shudder. I raided the cracker and cookie bin in the airport lounge just in case. Then, we will turn around and drive four hours back. I'm charging my iPod and downloading Grey's Anatomy episodes as I write this.

Hopefully, we will get back to the hotel early enough to take a walk. Hangzhou is one of my most favourite cities in China. I'll post photos so you can see why.

I Heard It Was Great....

Last night after dinner, we went back to the hotel and decided to indulge in a massage. It is one of my most favourite things about Guangzhou. For less than $20, you get about two hours of pure bliss.

It all begins with half an hour on the shoulders, back and neck. I have found that the masseuse has been trained to respond to the client's needs in regard to pressure and strength. I have never had to tell them to be more gentle or more aggressive. They just seem to know and adjust intuitively.

Next, comes the foot massage. For at least an hour, your feet and lower legs are bathed, oiled and massaged. I cannot adequately describe how good this is. Most of the time, we will get the pedicure guy to come in. It's not the type of pedicure that we are used to in North America. Nope. This guy arrives with a straight razor, a pumice stone and a stool. He trims your toenails and shaves off any rough areas on the bottom of your feet. There are no ragged edges and I am always in awe of how good my feet look after he is finished.

Finally, during the last half an hour, you are treated to a hot neck roll and a full arm and leg massage. I usually put my iPod on and relax through out the process. Last night, after the neck and back massage, I put the tunes on and fell asleep. I woke up thirsty, feeling like a rag doll and with feet that looked fantastic. I asked if pedicure man had been in and was told that I slept through the whole thing.

Wow. That's some kind of jet lag.

Jet Lag in Guangzhou

My sweet son, Dylan, called me today. I'm sure he didn't give it another thought since it was 3pm his time but my cell rang at four this morning jolting me out of a REALLY good dream. It's been a strange deal so far because I'm sleeping like I used to in university...you know, BC...before children.

My kids both think that it is absolutely astounding that it can be Friday for me and Thursday for them. They liken it to some sort of sci-fi time traveler thing and thus, every conversation opens with the same dialogue:

"Hi Mama. What day is it over there?"

Before taking this trip, I went to Sam's and invested in some new luggage. I am extremely hard on my suitcases and I usually have to replace them once a year so when I saw "10 year guarantee" written all over the packaging, I chose Ricardo of Beverly Hills instead of Samsonite. The stuff didn't even make it one leg of the trip. The handle on the large suitcase is defective so that if I want to stow it, I have to unzip the case, reach in and feel around for the magic nodule. I press this and the handle goes down. Then to get it back up, I must unzip again, reach further down and depress yet another enchanted button. Let me tell you how much fun this was today as I hauled my luggage around an impossibly crowded train station. Besides the fact that my feminine protection leapt out of the bag every time I had to make an adjustment, the embarrassment factor was topped only by my panties who apparently wanted in on the action and made an appearance or two, as well.

We made it into Guangzhou around ten in the morning. After checking into the hotel, we grabbed a quick bite and then spent the next six hours at the fair going from booth to booth. It was a productive day and we'll be back at it again tomorrow morning before flying out to Beijing in the afternoon.

We're just now headed out to my favourite Chinese seafood restaurant where I will chow on lobster and politely try to avoid the sea cucumber. I can't wait to crawl into bed tonight.