Lacuna

So what did you think your adult life would be like when you were a kid? Did you ever become a fireman? Did you get married and have those two kids? Where's that dog you always wanted?

How big is the gap between what-you-thought and what-came-true? Is it better? Is it worse? Would the kid-you-once-were recognise the adult-you-are-now? Would they like each other if they met?

I ask these questions because I'm having trouble recalling those memories.

I remember wanting to write and being surrounded by stories, stories, stories from my earliest days. I also remember a short period of time in which I wanted to be a hairdresser. I remember wanting to dance ballet. I remember not believing in Santa Claus. I remember walking to school in the third or fourth grade and thinking, "Just my luck I turned out to be not-pretty". And I remember music every day.

I don't remember fantasizing  about getting married and dressing up like a bride. I don't remember dreaming about having children. I just remember wanting words every day. And looking forward to the day when someone would want to be my Gilbert Blythe. And having a house of my own where friends could come and visit anytime.

So have you filled the intervening years in a satisfying way? Or is there a gaping lacuna between then and now?

I think I'm doing ok. I still have words, stories and music every day. I have a bee-yoo-ti-ful house with a stone Buddha and a crystal chandelier. I have a great hairdresser who helps me overcome my karmic deficiencies. The Santa Claus cynicism does not seem to have negatively impacted my personal development in any lasting way. No one wants to be my Gilbert Blythe (stupid boys!) but I have an army of Diana Barrys to make life bearable... nay pleasurable!

I hope mini-Adriana is proud of me, that I haven't let her down. I'll see what I can do about the ballet... maybe she'll let me do flamenco instead.

Deleting or editing comments

Following a conversation with a friend, I did some research and found a series of blog posts addressing the issue of whether bloggers - and in particular, business bloggers - should edit or delete comments left on their blog.

• Read Mitch Joel's comments here
• Get David Usher's opinion on the matter here (yes, THAT David Usher)

Most seem to agree that if the comment is spam, offensive, pornographic or insulting, deletion is an entirely reasonable response.

As for me, I "approve" comments before they are published not because I want to control the message. It's just an easy way to ensure that I'll respond to all of them.

Going upside down

Part one of the yoga inversions workshop I attended this weekend went extremely well (read: Adriana didn't do anything to embarass herself).

At the beginning, we were all asked to give our reasons for participating in the workshop. Many of the six participants expressed a desire to overcome the fear of being upside down. Oddly, I don't think I'm afraid of being upside down. I'm more panicked by not being able to hold the pose and falling in the most spectacular bone-cracking fashion.

I'm afraid of the precariousness of the pose.

Allison asked us to practice our inversions - headstand, shoulder stand, elbow balance - before the next session in December, so that we can spend the second session refining the poses already learned and move on to the more challenging inversions.

My goals are to:

1. be straighter in shoulder stand
2. learn headstand without the wall
3. learn to bring my legs up together in a controlled fashion, rather than kick up
   

I've only had one yoga practice since the workshop, but I have already made one discovery.

When going up, I always worry that my back is too curved, that my ribcage is already too far back, and if I shift my weight, I will certainly topple. On Monday, I played with the movement, and discovered that my ribcage can be moved back farther than I suspected - and still be entirely stable. And without a wall to catch me either.

I also managed to lift both legs as high as my waist, at which point I was so impressed with myself, I totally forgot what I was doing and just came back down. But for a moment there, I trusted myself, and it worked.

I'm getting there. I'm getting there.

Rant. And help needed.

The previous owner of my condo suggested I put up a NO BIKES PLEASE sign on my front fence, warning me that bikes left locked on the fence could be a hazard in wintertime.

You see, in deep snow, those zippy sidewalk sweepers cannot gauge where the fence ends, and it's happened that while zipping along, they have missed the mark. Now I don't know much about physics, but I do understand that when a speeding object hits a stationary target (unless it's a moose), the moving object wins.

On two occasions, the sweepers have hit bikes on the front lawn - and have taken the fence with them. In fact, the previous owner even took the City of Montreal to court to have her fence repaired last year - and she won. Today, the fence is still a little bent near the entry to the path.

Also, I had beautiful rose bushes that grew around the fence. I didn't want them crushed!

So I put up the sign, using tie-wraps to make it nice and tight against the fence. To be kind to my neighbours, I placed the sign near the opening, where the fence is less stable. This still left them two places - near the outer, anchoring posts - in which to lock their bikes.

I have this cranky German man renting a flat next door who has been heard complaining about my sign, grumbling that people should be allowed to lock their bikes anywhere, that the owner promised him he would always have a place for his bike on the street, and other anarchist-type comments that display a disturbing detachment from reality.

Now let's remember:

• Cranky German man (CGM) is not my tenant and lives in another building
  
• I own my condo, therefore making the fence private property
• Numerous times, while he and his less surly girlfriend have been standing by my fence locking their bikes to the sanctioned corners, I have walked out of my home and smiled at them, never being mean or asking them to cease and desist.
  

In the summer, I tried say hell to CGM (sans girlfriend), but he stared at me coldly like I was dirt. Two days later, I discovered that someone had defaced my sign with a sticker featuring a tree and a line drawn through it (anti-nature? wha??). I calmly peeled it off.

Two days ago, I bid him good morning. More cold stares. And this morning? Someone had stolen my sign. And considering how firmly it was affixed to my fence, CGM (or whoever it was) had to bring tools with him.

Could someone please explain to me how I became the bad guy in all this?

My only thought? Putting up another sign, and then asking my father for big wire cutters so that I can"liberate" CGM's bike the next time he locks it to my fence. Maybe even lock it my balcony and force him to come and ask for it.

This is obviously not the *adult* way to deal with the matter. So, any suggestions?

Palanca gets a digital camera

Guess what? I've joined the 90s and purchased a digital camera! To inaugurate the arrival of my new Canon Powershot, I bring you a snapshot of my favourite grafitti.

Scrawled on a brick wall, corner of Prince Arthur and Clarke. If you can't enlarge the image, it reads:

Anyone can slay a dragon, he told me, but try waking up every morning and loving the world all over again. That's what takes a real hero.

Maybelline New York

At a recent conference I attended on email marketing, there was a presentation from Maybelline New York and the agency that helped them launch this (admittedly) very cool project: my MNY. The company asked women to sign up for a personalized booklet, which they received in the mail after answering a series of questions about their age, complexion, cosmetic style, favourite brands, etc.

The booklet is very modular, with some content that remains unchanged and some customized content that matches your specific profile. The cover photo, of course, was selected according to your colouring, but the teaser titles did not change. Most of the customization was reserved for product promotion on the inside pages. There were also savings coupons with unique serial numbers, so that Maybelline could track who was spending on what and when.

A stroke of genius, really.

There were some 50,000 different versions produced. For anyone who works in advertising and marketing, a project of this scope is undeniably scary... and impressive, if you have the resources to pull it off. At the conference, each participant received a randomly generated booklet, and much time was spent comparing individual pages to see just how much was customized.

And then Palanca learned something new (see image at right). 

Quote: The pointed and turned-out toe pose adds an extra few inches to your leg, making it appear longer.

There is a science to posing apparently, but I think it's inherent, programmed, built-in. I've been doing the pointed and turned-out toe thing unconsciously for years! More often when I'm trying on clothes in stores.

You know what this means, don't we?

We are all supermodels inside...

I miss you J. Hamilton

Correction, I miss talking to you, Hamilton. I could have used your explanations during the World Series.

Wherever you are cookie, I send you love and happiness.

For the rest of you who have no idea to whom I refer, listen to this tune by Angus & Julia Stone instead.