It's very non chill being misrepresented in a professional capacity because, in part, I suspect that guys have the tendency to focus all their aggression on a woman, even if a woman and a man are saying the EXACT SAME THING.
Am I loud? Yes. Am I outspoken? Yes. Have I been that way since pretty much birth? Yes. Am I confident in my brains and my professional judgment? Yes. Do I feel this is something I should apologize for, or curb? AW HELL NO.
I've had a very trying time, the past week and a half. But there have been bright spots.
Like: Dr. Rei and I hatching a plan for an awesome project together, and by extension, me being continuously nourished and sustained by this beautiful, strong, funny, smart woman's counsel, commiseration, and support.
Like: we had my mum over for a birthday celebration for her and ate Sukho Thai takeout and I presented her with a coconut bundt cake that she didn't care for.
Like: we took the kids to the Zoo on Friday. We had a really fun time and it was all around splendid. At the gorilla enclosure one of the male gorillas, Sadiki, was standing right at the glass and I met his eyes for a solid 30 seconds, and I don't know what happened...but I started welling up. He just held my gaze and the meaning behind his eyes was so primordial, still, and all-knowing...it triggered the Romantic sublime in me, and I just felt overcome. It's like that scene in Mulholland Drive where the women are are sitting in the theatre and listening to a woman singing a Spanish (?) version of Roy Orbison's "Crying" and one of the women watching just starts to cry and cry, tears spilling silently down her face. It was such a deep moment, and after, I felt so calm, and centred.
The other night we were watching Broad City and I had one of my mortality moments and I felt my blood pressure skyrocket and that panicky, IDON'TWANTTODIEEVER feeling in the pit of my chest, which is usually how it goes when I think about dying. After staring into the eyes of the gorilla though, I was acutely aware that the feeling I had when he assessed my soul, were I to think about my own mortality and death (which I did, immediately thereafter - Romantic sublime again), would carry over and I would feel peace and that maybe this is what people feel like when they're about to die. Maybe if the conditions are right, you're not filled with panic and dread, but you tap into the ancient gorilla-gaze that lies dormant in the deepest recesses of your brain and soul.
Like: we went to Barque for brunch with the kids on Sunday morning and hit the Jamie Bell adventure playground to burn off some kid steam right before. It was such a nice morning and Barque is so kid friendly. Like, I knew they were kid friendly because we had gone there when the Big Yam was young, but kid-friendly enough to handle a table of 5 featuring three kids to two adults is like, next level kid friendly. They have little mini packs of play-doh for each kid! Anyway, the kid's menu had scrambled eggs or pancakes (and some other stuff that were non-options for my guys). I ordered pancakes for the Twins, and I asked the Big Yam what he wanted. "Scrambled eggs." "Are you sure? You don't usually like scrambled eggs when I make them at home." "Scrambled eggs." "You're sure you don't want pancakes?" "Yes, I want scrambled eggs."
Scrambled eggs are placed in front of him. He glances at his brothers' pancake plates and his face crumples in abject dejection and he wails, "Awww...I should've ordered pancakes!" and then he buries his face in the Dotytron's chest and cries, "Now I wish I didn't order scrambled eggs!" and maybe there's something wrong with me, but the crushing realization of his own error in judgment was very hilarious.
Like: Twin A's singing along to his auntie's song in his little wispy voice.
Like: Twin B's standard greeting of "Hell-lo" when you enter the room. As well as his new thing of saying, "aww" in this funny, aggressive kind of way. And also saying, "alright" to agree with you.
Like: the Dotytron and I getting a night out for ourselves, midweek, thanks to the babysitting services of one Momma D. We went to Imanishi Japanese Kitchen, a new Japanese izakaya-type place. The space is really pretty - kind of serene Japanese-rustic...like we were in a tavern in the Japanese countryside. I think it's run by ex Kinka (née Guu) dudes. The food was good, but not great, and while I liked eating izakaya-type food in a quiet, adult space, I thought the execution at Kinka is much better - the fish carpaccios are more inventive and the flavours make more sense at Kinka. The standout dish at Imanishi was the corn tempura, and everything else was okay, but not as satisfying as the Kinka experience.
This was grilled sting ray fin with a dipping sauce. This dish was a flop. It was chewy and lightly charred but the texture was off and the flavour was vaguely funky, but not in a good way.
You can't go wrong with fried oysters.
I didn't take a picture of every dish, but we got the beef carpaccio, and the whitefish crudo, the aforementioned corn tempura (so lacy and salty and addictive), and perfectly cooked octopus balanced against the crunchy brightness of celery.
That's a good summary of my bright spots. Friends, family, and food. Pretty on-brand, I'd say.