Sweet Jesus

Life got really since the last post, and I have a lot to catch up on.  What struck me was that we often use life being busy as an excuse, until life catches up to you.

I learned yesterday the morning of Saturday, March 30, that a beloved leader, mother, colleague, and friend, had passed away.  This was just no ordinary woman; She was a visible minority who was Muslim, and was a monumental leader in the industry I work in.

She spent a majority of her career pioneering a way for women to grow in the field, breaking rules, while redefining women’s place in the world of technology.  Not only as software developers, but as leaders.  She had helped change the world we live in today, but few recognized her contribution to society, but what’s best about her is that she never wanted credit. She just wanted the job done.

More so, she helped guide me through one of the biggest and most pivotal moves I made in my career; To move from a technical role, and ushered me to success into a management and business role.   I lived with doubt, asking myself if this was the right career move, but she made sure I made the right choice, and provided me the guidance and direction I needed to succeed.  This woman worked hard, no matter what, despite surviving cancer twice already, and finally succumbing to her third battle with cancer.  She passed away among her family on the night of Friday, March 29, 2019.  The last thing she ever said to me, right about this time last year before my trip to India was, “I want to see this deal through, even if it kills me.”  I’m glad to have closed this chapter for her, and want her to know I will see this through for her until the very bitter end.

Despite being a woman as tough as nails, I am so grateful to have had Razia be one of my leaders through my career transition.  Rest in peace, my friend.  You will be dearly missed by us all.

I had asked my siblings to send me my old Davida motorcycle helmet in anticipation I end up finding a Vespa or motorcycle again. Little did I know that the arrival of my helmet would trigger a wave of pain and uncertainty to my future, of which it questioned whether I truly have grown up or not. It turns out that I haven’t, and that I am still a selfish, wreckless chump who thinks of no one but myself. Looks like I still have a lot of growing up to do. I often wonder how my ex-girlfriend put up with my nonsense all these years. Oh, wait. I think I answered my own question. :)

It’s Been A While

Hello, stranger. It’s been a while.

It took me a while to find the courage to start posting again. Perhaps “courage,” is not the right word, but more so, the will power and motivation to do so. I hid for a while to figure out what life had in store, and was worthy of sharing. One can only share so many food pics, daily rants, random bullshit and nonsense of who we think we are, while being unable to acknowledge what we are.

A lot has happened since my previous post. For starters, I sold off the Tudor Black Bay, and in turn, picked up two new specimens to add to the stable.

I also got my luggage zipper fixed. I didn’t think anything of it, or when I would use it. I was wrong, but more on that later.

Behold – The Nomos Glashutte Metro Datum (manual wind) and Nomos Glashutte Ahoi Datum. The Metro was purchased through Rob @ Toppers Jewelers in San Francisco, CA, and the Ahoi was through Robin @ Exquisite Timepieces. Both were great to deal with and the only drawback was shipping, but we had all mutually understood this being a burden on both ends.

Bauhaus design, German made, and simplistic. A true tool watch that doesn’t scream for attention. Absolutely love both watches and are on the rotational roster.

I even won an Orbita watch winder from Exquisite Timepieces through an Instagram draw. Talk about a real bonus!

On the flip side, I had thought about getting rid of the TAG Heuer Carera Twin Time, but fought with myself internally for months to decide what I wanted to do. It was running slow, and I wouldn’t be able to make anything on it, so I decided to keep it and have it serviced. It took a while, and TAG Heuer’s customer service was just awful. Lesson learned – you get what you pay for. (I do not recommend TAG Heuer unless you are a huge fan of its heritage and current involvement in sport.)

Oh, yes. Finally. SRAM Force 22 compact crankset. There was something defective with the 10-speed Force crankset, and I didn’t want to ride on standard chainrings anymore, so I got it updated at The 11 Inc. Constant Illness and terrible weather has prevented me from putting in any mileage this season.

So after a long and hard fought battle (again, an internal struggle with myself) I decided to give up on Windows Phone and Android. Truth be told, the software on the Windows Phone was buggy and lost its 5Ghz WiFi capability, so that sucked. It couldn’t perform even the most basic of functions any normal person would require from a phone. The Android, well, Outlook was driving me nuts, and most Android phones are physically massive, so the only altenative was going with an iPhone. Let me tell you, it is one refreshing experience. I need a phone, to do normal phone things, and be a normal size. Like have a decent battery life and make phone calls and sending/receiving SMS messages. Is it that hard, Android!!?!?! RIP Windows Phone.

A few random events – I went to the David Tao concert at the Sony Centre, and it was a pretty good show and playlist.

Came across a coffee shop in The Annex/Koreatown that serves coffee roasted by Habit, but the beans are sole sourced from Vietnam. The owners were very nice and accommodating, allowing me to come inside, despite them being closed. There was no sign indicating they were closed. Regardless, I haven’t been back because it’s just out of the way.

I seriously have no idea where this was taken anymore.

Public Espresso in Buffalo, NY

Went to see some shitty Vespas, and the experience was only shitter than your typical Italian motorcycle, car, or scooter.

Random picture I took at home. Not really sure how to butter this one up.

I had to head down to Los Angeles/San Diego as I had learned that my great grandmother had just come back home from the hospital. Rather than make the same mistakes from when my grandmother passed away a number of years back, I decided to catch the next plane as soon as I could to see her. I got the chance to see her one last time. Unfortunately, she passed away earlier this week. 105 years old? Not bad. She was one tough cookie. I often wonder how and why she managed to live so long. But hey, she lived in San Diego. Who wouldn’t want to live longer?!

I don’t remember if this was Premium Economy or Business. My guess is Premium Economy. I got a nice option to upgrade for a reasonable price.

Lunch time in Orange County

Camp Pendleton

Stopped by to visit my grandparents at the cemetery. Despite a grim location, true beauty can be found. You just need to look for it.

No trip to LA is complete without a stopover at Blue Bottle and Intelligentsia on Abbot Kinney in Venice.

Of course, Deus Ex Machina

And Coffee Commissary on Motor Ave

I stood out in the sun, put my bag down, and reminded myself that this bag has been to so many places, and can only continue to go further. I don’t recall exactly when i got this bag, but it certainly has been almost eight or nine years. Six for sure. Who knew it would take me further so soon?

Upon return to the office, I had, literally, less than 24 hours, to come up with a lean budget and business case for my VP and SVP to approve a necessary trip to India for business. It was such a fucking nightmare, but I managed to pull through and bought my tickets booked my hotels, and packed with less than 12 hours before my first flight. After coming back from Los Angeles/San Diego, it had been stressful enough, coming back to the office, dealing with a tonne of bullshit, and having to pack for a three week trip, including scheduling of all meetings with suppliers, is a real fucking pain in the ass. Well, off to Amsterdam for a short layover, and then to Pune, Bangalore, and Chennai, India. Thank you, fixed luggage zipper!

Jet Airways business class. It…was okay.

This is, if I recall correctly, a Goan chicken curry. There was something black in the dish that looked like an olive, so I thought to myself, “Okay, sure!” Taking a bite out of this proved to be a terrible idea; It was some kind of fucking chili pepper, and my mouth was on fire. The saving grace was the yoghurt. Had it not been for that, I would have been screwed so hard.

Schipol Amsterdam Airport

Growing up, we would read about Miffy and her adventures in class together. Never did I think in my life that I would see a life-sized Miffy.

India has always been on my radar to visit, however, was never up at the top of my to do list. Never did I think in a day of my life that I would travel there for business. Sadly, that was the case, and I felt awful because there will be a handful of judgmental pricks out there who would rag on me for not traveling “authentically,” to enjoy “the true Indian experience.” Let’s get a few things straight.

First of all, what the fuck does that even mean? Show up in a raggy shirt that hasn’t been washed, wear sandal flip flops, practice poor hygiene, drink local water, pet random street animals, ride the public bus and auto rickshaw? Eat street food? Have you lost our mind? No normal person should do this, and I seriously mean it. You could get food poisoning, traveler’s diarrhea, AIDS, cancer, Yellow Fever, malaria, and all sorts of bullshit. (Kidding about AIDS and cancer.) That in itself would get you a one-way ticket to an unknown Indian hospital with a hefty bill because chances are, your insurance won’t cover what you got. Because medical treatment there is a business, and doctors/hospitals have quotas to meet. You would get so fucked if you wanted to screw around.

Secondly, while most people speak English there, not everyone is honest. Agreed fare for the cab? Pay the westerner’s price for anything and everything? You would get totally ripped off, it’d be like getting raped and not knowing it. I would caution anyone going to India to bring someone along who is Indian, or meet with a trusted local. You need to remember – this is a third world country. Women are still treated very differently, and their old cultural habits are still very strong. I don’t suggest taking the public bus; you’d probably get molested or pick pocketed, robbed, and even gang raped. And I’m actually serious.

    Pune India

This is supposedly a university city, a few hours out from Mumbai (Bombay.) Sadly, it’s primarily an IT hub with a heavy military presence.

Pune Airport – let me tell you. It’s a fucking dump with some third-world bullshit procedures. Fuck this place. My advice is you watch and learn, and be prepared to deal with some serious third-world bullshit. You need to literally watch and learn. Any deviation from the local process and procedures could earn you a night in jail and a hefty fine. They don’t fuck around here. And washrooms, lounges, and restaurants? Good luck!


I quite liked this city. The weather, while “hot” was relatively mild, and there was a fair amount of green space that made it feel very serene. In a way, it was almost like Vancouver. Especially the traffic. My goodness, it would take at least 45 minutes to an hour to get anywhere, despite the distance. Otherwise, the people here, in general, are pretty nice and the food was pretty good.

The ITC Windsor Hotel – I loved this place. The definition of true Indian hospitality. Despite it being an old building and facility, highly recommended. They make you feel like Gods.


Off to Chennai. I liked the sticker on the plane.

    Chennai and Pondicherry

The southern Indian city, formerly known as Madras. The city’s infrastructure was quite modern and most roads are nicely paved. Traffic moves steadily, so you’re okay for the most part. A monorail exists and is operational, however, apparently it costs too much to take it, so people either drive or ride scooters. It was hot and humid as fuck here, and this was only “the beginning of summer” there. Fuck no. Never again. Go in the winter, but never April/May. At the tail end of my trip, I got the flu and was bed-ridden because of me going in between hot and cold environments non-stop. It was fucking terrible. I would not wish getting sick to anyone while in India. You’ve been warned.

Our hosts took us to Pondicherry for an off-site meeting. We stopped along the country side to see and try a few new things.

Totally not racist, right? I’m considered, “Others.” And don’t even start to think of starting a #MeToo and #BlackLivesMatter protest. You’d be beaten up so fast.

I grew fond of Madras filtered coffee, which is more or less similar to the Vietnamese coffee, except they boil and “pull” the milk to create a smooth, airy texture. Think of it as an Indian latte.

If you ever decide to go to India, do your homework first. Getting a visa to enter the country is, by and far, one hell of a convoluted process, if you are going on business. You can now apply for your travel and business visa online, however, it is confusing as fuck. Imagine having to do this in person at their consulate, embassy, or third-party/outsources visa centres? Be prepared to be in a world of hurt and frustration. Bring some Advil just in case!

The culture is still very strong in India, so nothing will change overnight. My biggest cultural shock is the clear divide between the wealthy, and dare I say it, the poor? Even if you were middle class, you were still going to be treated like a pile of trash. Because that’s just how it is. Nobody in India is “special.” Especially not foreigners. You’re likely at the bottom of the food chain. People work 12+ hours a day, seven days a week, waiting on others, or performing some kind of low/menial work and still get paid and treated like crap.

Now, my travel was not easy. Despite the fancy hotels, I was only there to sleep, nothing more, and it was not a lot of sleep, if any. I was in and out of business meetings from sunrise to sunset, which usually meant getting back to the hotel at 11 pm or midnight, whereas my day would start between 6:30am-7am. To summarize my trip, it was airport, flight, car, hotel, car, office, car, hotel, and repeat. To top things off, I still had my day job to handle and take care of. There were no days off or weekends; it was just all work-work-work. So you see, corporate travel is not all that it seems to be. The novelty wears off fast.

Now, some people go to India to “find themselves.” I think I can understand why, or the logic behind it, but I can assure you, there are better places to do that, like getting a job at McDonald’s, or volunteering at a homeless shelter or food bank. You won’t need to fly 18+ hours to a third world country to find yourself. There is nothing glamorous living in squander, or eating spoiled street food, or contaminated water, and getting malaria. If you don’t know what you’re doing, and don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, don’t go directly to India. You don’t just show up acting like a savant and tell everyone that you’re here to “change the world.” Eat Pray Love? Wake up! People here are poor! They can only pray, and constantly worry about eating. This place is not for the faint of heart.

From a financial point of view, India can get expensive very easily. The moment you want to be comfortable, like being in a western-style hotel, you’ll be paying through the roof. I learned that the $100/night Holiday Inn in India is nowhere near the same as the Holiday Inn in North America/Europe. These hotels are in seedy areas, with questionable security, and people buzzing around. Want a real Western oriented hotel? Be prepared to pay for it. And then some. And the airports? You better go at least two hours early. Anything after 2, you’ll be lucky to even pass through security.

The bottom line is, India has so many cultures, religions, races, and processes/procedures, that there is no one unified solution or answer to their everyday problems. You will need to learn on the fly what the different nuances are from region to region. And if you can’t adapt fast, boy, you are going to be royally screwed. Anyone who tells you India is awesome and that it was an amazing experience is a fucking liar. Unfriend them immediately. Do not go back. Do not pass go. I’m sure you can already think of who these people are. Despite all of this, India truly is a sensory experience. The lights, the sights, the smells, and the sounds. Except don’t touch anything because it probably contains some kind of bacterial and viral infection. I do miss waking up and smelling the jasmine flowers waft through the air during a light breeze.

Would I go back to India? Definitely. I wish I had more time to explore the city and experience the culture, however, with more of the locals. This time, it was purely a business trip. I only got to see the western stuff, experience western experiences, and have a feel for the “western” life in India. I didn’t get to explore the local sights, sounds, and experiences. Maybe do some of that Eat Play Love nonsense. (Yeah, right.)

After coming back, my colleagues decided to go to Firangi to celebrate a few birthdays. I was secretly glad we went to Firangi because I had actually missed and craved Indian food. This here is called, “tiffin,” which is essentially a metal lunch box that stacks on top of one another and can be individually collapsed. The food here is amazing. I would say they set the bar for quality of food, and even India doesn’t come close!

Picked these tulips for a dollar for Mothers Day.

Been exploring the idea of picking up a manual car for the summer, particularly a Porsche Boxster, considering their reliability and cost of entry. Went to see this, and it got me all hooked again. Absolutely amazing cars.

All in all, life has been busy since the new year. A lot of changes, a lot of experiences, and a lot of ups and downs. But that’s life, right? I hope to do a bit more traveling this year, particularly to Singapore, HK/Macau, and hopefully the Maritimes and East Coast. Europe is still on the horizon, but this all depends on work. But hey, after this India trip, maybe I did find myself, as ironic as it may be. I had zero expectations, but I learned so much from it, both personally, and professionally. I’m glad I went. There’s so much more to life, and we’re always missing out on it. Go chase after it.

Wise Words

The Porsche 911 is the reason why people work 16-hour days and eat nothing but peanut butter sandwiches for 2 years straight. It’s that good.

– Rennlist Member

And I agree. But that’s because I’ve done it. And will do it again.


So I went grocery shopping and came across this in a dedicated hot-pot aisle (seriously, a fucking hot pot aisle.) Pay close attention to the demographic of the image portrayed and how much fun it is for them having hot pot. It looks like an elegant and posh affair. The reality is, hot pot fucking sucks, okay? It’s a shit tonne of work and you smell awful afterwards. Nobody dresses up for hot pot, unless you’re some kind of punk ass Communist overseas brat driving a Lamborghini Aventador with the license plate “I <3 JuJu." The package below is a lie, and a complete waste of time. This is not what hot pot looks like.

Spent some time in Vancouver. Best city in the world? Fuck, yes. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise because they don’t know shit.

Spade – This used to be a Starbucks. I think it was the first one I went to when I was in high school, and I felt all fancy and smart when I ordered a cappuccino. Boy, was I stupid back then (and now!) Third-wave look; Second-wave appeal.

Taste & See – Caught them before they shuttered their doors for good on Saturday. A matter of lease-end, politics, permits, and a vision for a future. I hope they open up again, and soon.

Family dinner @ Sushi By Yuji. He looks tired, but was happy to see us as we haven’t been around in a while. Food isn’t as wowing as it once was, but hey, it is what it is. The sparkle and shine is no longer there.

Bringing my 2012 Cannondale CAAD10 back to life with a new groupset – 11-speed Campagnolo Potenza. This is what happens when an Italian comes to America.

Full Campagnolo Potenza 11-speed groupset (I think 11-25 cassette and 50/34 compact chainrings @ 170mm crank arms)
Custom HED Belgium C2 wheels with Sapim spokes and Ultegra hubs w/ Michelin Pro 4 Service Course tires
Mish-mash cockpit consisting of 3T, Deda, Fizik, Thomson, and Selle Italia
Missing: Bottle cages and pedals (fuck)

Coffee chat and shenanigans @ Depot (Timbertrain Coffee’s roasting facility) in Grandview-Woodlands. Despite what people and the Internet tell you, I can assure you that it is NOT in Strathcona. All these bitches out there are trying to capitalize on this Strathcona craze. As a Strathcona OG, I disapprove of this nonsense.

My Christmas wish came true (yeah right.)

On an unrelated note, my old 1979 Yamaha SR500 cafe racer popped up for sale on Craigslist, mostly unchanged, save for some mileage.

Merry Christmas to all you jerks, liars, lazy asses, and good-for-nothing freeloaders.

The Ides of March

Signed and ready to roll. ‘Tis the Ides of March!

Spent the past few weeks in YUL and YYZ to check out my new digs.

Yes. Being poor is not fun.

I went to a cat cafe with A and Hachi Six. Lucky for him, he didn’t have to stay. The coffee was awful, but the cat people were even worse. They are so fucking weird beyond words. I got a chill down my spine upon entering the facility.
Coffee – 0/10
Cats – 0/10 I actually felt sorry for them. People trying to pet and play with them for 8 hours a day would piss any cat off. The one below were 10/10 cuz they were sleeping and didn’t bother me.
Humans- No rating can express my disdain for them. They all suck.

I hate cats.
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Dinner at “Fat Mao” in Chinatown. The duck noodles were awesome and so was the laksa, which was more of a Thai curry noodle, but still awesome. Pass on the beef pancake, okay? It sucks so bad.
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Montreal – I are t3h noob. It snowed, and I was unprepared as hell, walking around in dress shoes and a soft shell jacket meant to be kick ass in the West Coast weather. I felt like dying.

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Reuben’s (Not pictured – Dunn’s, Deli Planet, and St. Hubert.)
Melk Coffee Bar
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Gare Central. Felt like Europe all over again.
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St. Dorothee Station in Laval
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This troll dog
Yes, please give me unlimited access to cash money
YUL Maple Leaf Lounge Viewing Telescope (Leica)
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Dirty bird
RAV4 in the Big Smoke
Sursur Lee
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Down the street from my (soon to be) humble abode)
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Not sure what happened here
Little Portugal, Toronto. You already know.
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Portuguese Chicken Guys
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The ugliness that Toronto can be (Brampton)
Business class in the AC 788
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I came home to discover this crack. God damn it.

Giving up on life – Furniture shopping at Ikea.

Interesting pictogram
How I feel about Millenials
To make life better and more tolerable, this is how awesome the Porsche 911 is. I will have another one, but another day.