Dinner with a good friend about dating and my ex

On Friday night, I had dinner with a good friend. She asked me about the dating scene. I let her know that the ex had reached out to me.

I decided to write back to the ex on Thursday. I asked him how he was going to make this dinner that he had hoped for pleasant for me. After all, I'd be sitting across from a man who broke my heart, caused me so much anxiety, emotional pain, and depression for a year. I do not want to relapse.

He hasn't responded.

I let my friend know that I wasn't ready to date. I know that I am not ready.

She said the nicest thing towards the end of our time together over dinner. She said that I have the kindest heart and will eventually find the right person who will deserve my heart. She's equally as deserving of that special someone. We are in similar situations.

I don't think that my ex has changed since we last saw each other over three years ago. In his message to me, he said that we "always have a good time." No, we don't. I feel like he is delusional and is only thinking about the good times that we've had. He is omitting how poorly he treated me at the end of our relationship.

My aunt's passing with a ton of thoughts

On the weekend, my dad got word that his youngest sister, my aunt, had passed away. He has handled her death well. I think our entire family has under the circumstances.

Her funeral was on Wednesday. He attended it. I stayed with my mom at my parents' place. I'm glad that we did this setup. My dad had left food in a microwavable container for my mom to heat up. She never did until I was hungry and went to make some lunch. I noticed that the food remained untouched.

My mom is getting old. Her memory isn't great. I have a feeling that it's affecting her judgment, including heating up food. I did it for her, so she was good.

Families can be dysfunctional. Mine is no different. It has been interesting mourning someone who has not been a huge presence in my life.

When my dad and mom got married, my grandmother (my dad's mom) did not welcome my mom with open arms. There was a coldness and perhaps a distain for my mom. We don't know why.

Because my mom was not liked by her mother-in-law, my dad's two sisters also adopted the same coldness or distain for my mom. I look at that behaviour to be juvenile and ridiculous.

My aunt who passed away was the nicer of the two aunts. Her family (husband and four children) lived a block away from us growing up in Toronto. I recall occasionally getting together with them. My mom said that her children didn't treat me well. Apparently, they liked hitting me over the head. I have no recollection of that action. I ended up being far taller and larger than my cousins, so that nonsense likely stopped quickly.

My mom had to go into the hospital for surgery when I was ten. My aunt came over to babysit while my dad was with her to visit. I came on weekends. My aunt was fine. I remember her asking why I didn't cover my feet with my comforter when I was in bed. I have never done that. I always sleep with my feet poking out of it.

Her questions, like that one, had a tinge of judgment and slight disapproval. It happened a few years later when I was at the drugstore counting my money to buy something. She approached me and made a judgmental comment about the purchase that I was going to make. I ignored it and completed this purchase.

When my grandmother passed away, I flew into Toronto from Winnipeg to pay my respects. Despite knowing that she did not treat my mom nicely and that she wasn't exactly warm to me (she never truly addressed me by my real Chinese name whenever we got together), I felt the need to say goodbye. I put all her uncalled-for grudges against my mom aside to say goodbye to her.

After the funeral and burial, we had lunch at a restaurant. My aunt came over and asked why I was so sad. It was an odd way to start a conversation by making such a remark. It felt like a judgmental statement. Why not start by saying hi? I shot back that we were here for a funeral. It's not like I should be tearing up the dance floor to celebrate her death.

I'm thinking that it's the way that my dad and his siblings grew up. They can't seem to handle communicating with people and it comes out wrong. I have seen my dad do that when conversing, but it's never as horrible as what comes out of his sisters' mouths.

It occurred to me that my dad received more education (a few years) than my aunts. I feel that the lack of education plays a part, too.

Twenty years ago, my aunt and her family moved from Toronto to some city in Malaysia. She passed away in Malaysia a month ago.

She wanted to be buried next to her mom in Toronto. It took a month for her body to be flown back here.

My dad made the remark that his sister and family "must be loaded" to fly her back to her final ressting place. True. However, I'm glad that my parents and I aren't impressed or motivated by wealth.

We aren't rich. We aren't poor. We're content with what we have.

At my grandmother's funeral, when an older cousin asked what I did for a living, he got excited when he learned that I was in IT and worked for IBM. He then started to pay more attention to me and talk to me. I didn't like that at all.

The other thing was that I could speak Cantonese. My cousins on my dad's side (they are my other aunt's children) seemed both surprised envious because they couldn't. When I explained that I took Cantonese all through high school, it silenced them.

It helps to not be judgmental. I didn't really care what they thought about me. Never did. I still don't. 

I like how I have turned out. How my parents have raised me to be a good person because they are.

So, I am at peace with my late aunt. I hope that she rests easy. I am glad that she is reunited with her mom after two decades being apart.

Amazon locker, parking, and minivan mixup

Yesterday, I decided to get some air and pick up a couple of packages at my local Amazon locker hub. It happens to be inside a Whole Foods.

Unfortunately, a large, white minivan decided to park super close to my car in the parking lot. It was a Chinese female. I just stared at her as I left my car to go into the store. I was not impressed.

When I came out with my packages, I got to my car and slowly squeezed myself into my car. A woman came over and asked whether it was a tight squeeze. She offered to move her vehicle.

Wait a minute. This woman wasn't the same Chinese female. I asked her whether she had the correct van. I made her laugh when I said that she didn't look Asian and I knew that I had given that woman a dirty look for parking ridiculously close to my car.

She owns a white minivan, but the sun in her eyes made her believe that this vehicle was hers. I said that it happens. I wished her a good day and she reciprocated.

She was nice. I liked chatting briefly with her. I appreciated her kindness and humanity.

Cancelled and rescheduled flights

On my last full day in the States, I received a notification on my phone driving back to the hotel that my flight heading home the following day was cancelled. My heart sank.

I pulled over to check my inbox. I'm glad that I did. The airline managed to book me on an alternative set of flights home. It involved going into the opposite direction. I essentially flew from Minneapolis to Denver, and then to Toronto.

It was roughly an extra three hours. It made for a long day, but I was grateful to get home on the same day and wasn't left stranded somewhere.

I was originally upgraded to business class. With these two flight segments, only my second one was in business class. It was fine, as it was the longer segment.

In business class, I sat next to a nice, older man. He figured that I was heading home to Toronto, probably because I was my usual polite self. He was heading to Dubai after landing in Toronto. He had a two-hour layover.

By the way, the flight out of Denver was delayed by two hours. It isn't unusual these days with staff being sick.

When the plane touched down in Toronto, he said, "Welcome home!" He made a comment that it's always a good feeling returning home. He was right.

I have been fortunate to have struck up conversations with folks during my travels. I enjoy them. He was so nice by getting my backpack and jacket from the overhead bin.

Random act of kindness came in the mail

A few weeks ago, a tea company in Vancouver that I follow on Instagram did an act of random kindness. The company wanted to send me some goodies. It was so completely out of the blue!

Well, my gifts came in the mail. I got a bunch of looseleaf tea varieties. I also got some hand-carved wooden spoons to scoop the tea out of the containers. One is round and the other is heart-shaped.

This photo shows my purple jasmine tea with the heart-shaped wooden spoon:

  

It was such a thoughtful gesture. This company made my day and month.

Positivity snacks and a jerk who got what he deserved

Some places in the States do not ship to Canada. Recently, I contributed my thoughts about positivity on a company's Instagram account. This company ended up sending me a huge box of snacks as a gift. It was an extremely generous gesture.

Sadly, this place doesn't ship to Canada. However, I have a way to have items shipped up here through a shipping service.

There is one person at this shipping place who has been a pain to deal with. The first time I dealt with him, he asked for my ID. I was fine and asked if I needed to present it all the time, as none of the other staff members had asked me for it. He said no and that it was a one-time thing.

I dropped by a month later and he asked for ID. I reminded him that last time, he said it was a one-time thing. He made up a reason on-the-fly by saying that he will stop asking until he knows me. Um, I have been dealing with your business for four years. I'm a regular. You happen to be new and are making rules up as you go.

The third time I had to deal with him, he stopped asking me for my ID. Yay! The jerk, however, said my last name wrong. It's not a difficult last name or word to pronounce. I happily corrected him, staring sternly at hime. He actually apologized for a change.

On Saturday, I went in to pick up my box of snacks. This jerk was dealing with another customer who was yelling at him and dropped the f-word several times. I grinned. What goes around, comes around.

Luckily, I dealt with his female counterpart who was respectful and nice. She recognized me as a regular. I got my shipment, said thanks, wished her a good day, and left.

It helps to be kind to folks. If you're a jerk, there will be consequences to your attitude and behaviour.

A compliment from my manager

I worked from home on Tuesday. I had a conference call with my manager. As usual, he was running late.

I decided to review a video that my student had redone while waiting for him. When he got on the call, he heard part of it.

"Is that our student?" he asked me.
"Yes, it's a video that she did for our new application," I replied.
"She sounds professional," he complimented.
"She does. She's the only person on my team who is professional," I noted, hinting at the clueless woman in yesterday's post.
"There's you, too. Don't forget to include you. You count as 1.5 people on the professional scale, which makes up for her deficiency," he said.

It was a nice compliment to hear. I paid it forward and shared the compliment that my student got from our manager with her.

Standing up at work for a meeting and being gently pushed

At work on Thursday, our company had an all-employee meeting. It was originally slated to be in our auditorium. I have no idea why the venue changed to a corner of our floor.

We had bigwigs visiting us. There was supposed to be an online feed, but the audio sucked. I walked over there to listen in instead. I was hoping to tune in while eating my lunch, as this meeting started at noon.

There were a ton of people. I ended up standing in a corridor, unable to see anyone.

It helps that I am friendly. It have established a rapport with those whom I work closely with. As of late, I have had to work with a product manager. He looked, saw me, and literally let me know that I could move up in front of him.

"I'm tall. You stand here," he said.
"Thanks," I replied.

He must be 6'4". I'm 5'10" and seem mighty short standing next to him.

It was interesting that he gently pushed me up, touching the back of my shoulder blades with his palms. I have never had anyone do that before.

It worked. I had a good view. I could hear. All was great.

It helps to work with decent people who are polite and care.

My summer job at a fish and chips store

As I grow older, I have noticed that many folks who have helped me along the way are passing on. I have yet another story to share.

I grew up in a friendly neighbourhood in Toronto. I went back there the other night to have dinner with my friend. We did a lot of reminiscing.

There used to be a fish and chips store a few blocks away from where I used to live. It was a family-run business. A Chinese couple owned and worked at the store for over thirty years.

When I was old enough buy an order of chips (fries) wrapped in newspaper for a dollar, I would visit the store after school. They were terrific.

A few years later, I asked my mom whether she could ask the owners if I could work for them that summer. My mom would often visit the store to get dinner. Sure enough, I got it. I had just turned eighteen years old.

I felt that I was slow learning about everything. However, my boss, Mary, had a chat with my mom and said the complete opposite -- that I was a quick learner and a hard worker.

I learned how to wrap fish and chips in newspaper. I even folded a number of open-faced newspaper holders for chips, so you could eat out of it as you walked. I honed my skills talking to and serving customers. I even learned about orange roughy.

The couple often insisted that I have dinner there. I felt odd about it. Eventually, I caved. It was delicious, as always.

The store closed just after I had earned my undergraduate degree. I have often wondered about the couple and how there were.

I decided to do a search. I learned that Mary had passed on in 2009 at the age of 72. She, like her husband, were kind and treated me like family. I regret not seeing them as much when my family had moved away a year after I had worked at the store.

May she continue to rest in peace.

Thinking about a former manager who has passed on

Over a decade ago, I moved to the States. It was one of those bold leaps of faith. I didn't know anyone. My skills matched a position as a technical writer.

I was a contractor at Big Blue. My mentor was a gentle soul. He was also my manager. He was helpful in making sure that I was okay and was confident in my abilities.

At the beginning, I thought that I was slow at learning everything. He was encouraging, stating that it was the contrary -- that I was a quick learner.

When I look back, I was a decent writer. I made my deadlines either early or on time. I managed to pitch in and help others, often working extra hours to pick up the slack left by others.

I recall working 12-hour days for 12 days. A student had left the company and didn't do a great job on his deliverables. 

A colleague and I were there on the weekend. We were both contractors. Our manager was also there. We chatted around my office. He was grateful that we were there, pitching in.

When I got laid off, my manager waited till around 16:45 that Tuesday. My office door was three-quarters closed. He knocked and let himself in.

"I am sorry that you got laid off," he said sincerely. "It should have been me and not you."

I can still hear his voice telling me that. It was moving. He was nearly sixty years old and was about to retire.

"It's a business decision and I don't take it personally," I tried to comfort him. "I go home to Winnipeg and there's nothing wrong with that at all."

He smiled and seemed at ease. He let me know that he would be arranging my farewell luncheon. He also got a parting gift for me. It was a Java mug. I worked on the Java team. It was fitting, even though I am not a coffee drinker.

He was generous and sweet. I just learned that he had passed away two years ago from Parkinson's Disease. May he rest in peace.

Thoughtful texts and nice complements on training

My guy and I have a 10.5-hour time difference these days. Luckily, when I start my day at work, he is done eating dinner and is catching up on work in his hotel room.

Just before my guy wakes up in the morning, I will send him a text message, wishing him a great day. When I start my morning, he will do the same. It gives us time to briefly converse and see how we're doing.

He's still adjusting to the time difference. He is in Chennai for two weeks. By the time he is fully adjusted, it'll be time for him to return home.

Last week, I finished training our latest contractor at work. I continue to train my two co-op students.

A few weeks ago, my guy asked me whether I was getting sick of training folks. He does it for a living and was at the stage where he felt like he was a broken record with the content. Although I tend to train different folks on similar content, there are changes to procedures that keep me on my toes. So far, with each student that I end up working with, their assignments have been completely different.

My guy is pressed to deliver new content for his upcoming course offering. To say that he is busy is quite the understatement. The change will be good for him. He won't sound like a broken record for a bit, as he continues to fine-tune his course material.

On Monday, my manager and I interviewed a candidate who knows our latest contractor. After the interview, the candidate asked whether she could say hi to her friend. We were both game.

The new contractor said in front of her friend and my manager that I am a hoot. She also said that I am an excellent, patient, logical trainer.

It's nice to hear such kind words. I never paid her anything!