Tag Archives: friends

Slumber party

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I had an unexpected visitor spend the night last night in my bed:

On my way home from work last night, I received a phone call from Derek (Sonya’s dad), letting me know that my friend Mitali (Sonya’s mom), who is 8.5 months pregnant with baby #2, was at the hospital, and was most likely going into labor.  He asked if I could help them out by picking up Sonya from daycare, which I was happy to do.

Sonya and I are buddies.  She is at the most delightful age (1.5 years), my favorite age for babies, when they are beginning to express themselves, and are so much fun to play with.  She is also good buddies with Rusby, who has spent many days over at Sonya’s house while I am at work.  You can see some adorable pictures of them together here, here and here.  Or, here is a great video Mitali put together:

I was a little nervous about being alone with Sonya overnight, but she is such a great girl (good girl, as she says it), and we had alot of fun.  She was eager and willing to eat anything I put in front of her, and had creative ways of playing with the limited toys we have in the house.  Although it was hard for her that her parents weren’t there, or that she wasn’t at home (like when she woke up at 6am and screamed cause she didn’t know where she was, or who I was), she always calmed down and gave me a big smile.  When her dad came to pick her up, she practically bolted out the door, but I think overall the experience wasn’t too traumatizing for either of us. I guess I’ll really know next time I see Sonya, whether she’ll give me a hug or run the other way.

By the way, Mitali, who is a super-mom allstar in everyway, delivered a beautiful little girl, Leena, last night.  Sonya and I practiced the word “sister” all day long in preparation.

 

My valentine

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Last Friday, I got a package.  It was addressed just to me.  And it was from my Valentine.

I have had the same Valentine for about 10 years now, someone who is so thoughtful and considerate.  I got so giddy when I saw the handwriting, cause it is a dead giveaway on who it is.  Isn’t the packaging great?

Someone who knows that I love candy, and chocolate, and the cute little candy shop at the University Village in Seattle.  And who has always remembered me during this silly holiday.  Of course, I don’t think it is silly when there is chocolate involved, and yogurt covered pretzels, and all other sorts of goodness.  Then I take it all very serious.

Ten years, I have been rubbing my tongue raw with these wonderfully sour hearts.  I don’t like to share these.

Thanks, Khanh, for always remembering me.

Little Girl

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Oh!  Hello there!!

Little miss Sophia, do you remember me?  Our time together has been brief, but I know your mom from way way back when.  I dyed my hair for the first time in her bathtub, and we would write notes to each other in middle school.  We would team up together for projects, and go to Baskin & Robbins to do research for assignments.  I knew your mom before she was a mommy, before she was Hamilton, before she was a Cali girl, before she knew how to drive…lets just say I have known her a long long time.

But you, you are new to me.  I am just one of the many many aunties who love you from far away, admiring you from pictures and videos your mommy shares with us.  And we try to get together as much as possible to see you in person, and to have fun with our first, communal niece.

Cause you know that we all claim you as ours too.  We’ve known your mommy so long, anything she is excited about, we are excited about.  From your beautiful blue eyes to your chunky thighs to your eating habits.  You are such a Cali girl, eating avocados!!

And your laugh!!  You got your giggles and huge smile from your mom.  You know she is known for her grin, right?  It fills the room and is completely contagious.  And although I don’t get to see you everyday like I would like to, a glimpse of your smile reminds me that you are my girl’s girl, and we are connected together.

You guys seem to have so much fun together.

So although you might not know me the way I know you, please know that I love you very very much.

Your auntie,

Mahsa

Christophe!

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Pedram’s bestest friend visited us from Geneva, where he works at the CERN as a nuclear engineer.  Do not make the mistake I did and ask him what he does — it includes such incredibly abstract ideas that it makes me dizzy to think about it.  Basically, it is like they are looking to collide neutrons (protons? electrons?  chupatrons?), which will create a huge black hole and kill us all.  They do this out of curiosity, because they are bored and have too much time and money on their hands.  (Just joking, he has reassured me that there is no reason to worry about the black hole).

Christophe is Belgian, and the means that him and Pedram talk in their own dialect, which includes:

ey, kwe?

ey, kwe!

which means, “hello, how are you doing?” and “I am doing great, thanks”.  When together, they also add a “quoi” at the end of every sentence, which I compare to my saying “like” all the time.

Christophe is a generally, all around, super cool laid back guy, and it is hard for me to make fun of him when he is just so nice. He is such a good guy that he never complained about us forcing him to enjoy the Quebecois cuisine of choice, poutine.  I’ll go more into poutine in detail sometime later, but it is a strange quebecois dish that is both hearty and tasteless.  Since Christophe is from Belgium where they eat horse, rabbits and raw beef, we figured he’d be fine with poutine.

And he was.  He never once complained, never once asked what was the funny cheese, what a strange combination of ingredients (his poutine mediterranean included eggs and sausage), never once made a face.  He finished the entire dish, using a knife and fork for his fries, leaving not a trace of gravy on his plate.

He left this morning, but not without gifting us some of our favorite gifts from the old continent — chocolate baby!  Swiss chocolate, but still oh so good.

Friends Make Life Better

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Sometimes, when you are new to a city, to a job, to a class, meeting new people and trying to create your own niche in town, it can be EXHAUSTING.  You’re constantly “on”, desperately trying to making good impressions, focusing on saying witty things, being thoughtful, expressing your opinions delicately, stifling emotions and reactions under a thin but persistent smile, and at the end of the day, you are tired of being a facade of your former self.

Sometimes I want to unwind, be myself, complain, question everything and everyone, be moody and angry without cause and without judgement.  But often people new to a city don’t have that luxury.  Because you are new, you are trying to get a job, make new friends, influence colleagues, make an impression.  Eventhough you are tired of being “on”.

And then sometimes, you can go to New York City, where a lifelong friend lives, meet up with another friend from Los Angeles, and spend hours talking, venting, and being utterly honest with no risk of judgement.  Friends you have known almost your entire life, who can spread warmth to your soul with a hug.  Catching up on stories, crying with empathy, shaking with laughing, sharing (with no shame) incredibly personal issues, supporting each other through whatever delicate obstacle the other is maneuvering, passing time over coffee walking through the streets of Manhattan, never pausing in conversation (except so that they can manically talk on their phones/text).

It was just one weekend in New York, but it felt like an enormous warm hug after being outside in the rain.  It feels amazing to be “off”, to remind myself of who I really am.  I am so grateful to have amazing friends in my lives, who ground me and give me hope about finding my place in Montreal.  Or, we can all move to San Francisco in 5 years.  Deal?

Thanks for reminding me who I am.

Big Blue – The Guest Bed

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I just counted on my fingers 30+ people who have stayed at our place in Brussels in the last two years.  That is crazy, no?

We were so lucky to have so many people stop by to pay us a visit and I have really enjoyed sharing Brussels with friends and family.  Most people have had the lucky honor of sleeping on Big Blue — the blow up mattress I bought in Costco a few years ago and hauled over to Brussels.  Many of our guests have had the shower experience at our apartment — 9 minutes of hot water in a mini bathtub with a random step.

We (still) do not have an apartment in Montreal, but we are trying to get a two-bedroom, to give Big Blue a little break.  I also can confirm my very first Montreal visitor, who will be coming at the end of June.  Hopefully we’ll have an apartment by then.

Thank you to the 30+ people who have visited us here, it means alot to us both.

We’ve also received some great gifts from friends, including these cute tea cups from the Mardons, and maybe the best tea I have ever tasted from Sepehr, both of which I am enjoying today.

tea

Frenchie and American in the Sun

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Lisa:  I don’t like the picture you posted of Sebastien and I on your blog

Sebastien:  Yeah, you should change it

Lisa:  Wait, before you take a new picture, Sebastien, you have something in your teeth

teeth

Sebastien:  Where?  Here?  Is it all gone now?

teeth2

(Jean-Philippe — I hope this one made you smile)  :)

Lunch conversations

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There are some French words that I cannot say easily — such as:

Tu m’enerves!

and

Traiteur

Most words with the letter R take alot concentration from my end.

There are some English words that French people cannot say well.  My first week working in Brussels, a French co-worker told me that he was trying to explain that “we zell ze best hair conditioning in the harea”  For some reason, many francophones add the letter H in front of words, and remove the H from others.  And the sound “th” is turned into “zuh”.

In our lunch meetings, often times Lisa and I will turn to each other and ask “Did you understand exactly what Sebastien just said?”.

Did he “hate” the sandwich or “ate” the sandwich?  Is he “hungry” or “angry”?  Is he saying he has an “ear” or he cannot “hear”?  Is he “working” or “walking?”

This provides for endless entertainment on our end.

Other great sources of giggles:

When he told me to “please address zhe and”

and he meant “talk to the hand”