Among the many bad things Arnold Schwarzenegger will someday have to account for, not least among them is the fact that when an otherwise regular gentleman speaks to you in English with a German accent, all you can hear is goddamn Arnie and it takes everything within you to be able to look the speaker in the eye and not giggle uncontrollably. Terz thinks the German gentleman in question is built a little like Arnie too, but I blame it entirely on the accent. We'll see if repeated exposure to the accent --- assuming we run into this guy at Sods 2 again --- dulls the Arnie effect.

This morning was spent in a flurry of guilty email correspondence, with missives flying to at least three different continents, though all had in common something to do with my time at Northwestern. I don't email often anymore, not compared to the chitchatty daily bulletins I used to shoot off in university days, back when the Internet was just a toddler --- but when I do, it's one mad rash of typing that sounds, I imagine, like a frantic screenwriter trying to finalise changes before the day's shoot.

We celebrated my grandfather's birthday in advance today (it's not for another week and a half, really) with abundant dim sum at Yum Cha Restaurant in Chinatown. The place was noisier than a Hong Kong dim sum restaurant, with scattered chaos as food-bearing trolleys jostled their way between tables to serve customers, the disorder exacerbated by the fact that like every choice presented to us necessitated at least an awkward ten-second go-around of "Do we want this? --- No? --- What is it? --- Oh, anyone want it? --- Maybe?" before a final nod or shake of the head determined matters. I'm surprised the waitresses just didn't give up on our table entirely and wait for us to beseech them for scraps instead.

While the food wasn't the best I've ever had, Terz and I were relieved that it was decent, hearty and gave us no reason to continue cracking our heads to remember if someone in our acquaintance had warned against Yum Cha's food or if we were just remembering things all wrong. Even the noise was suitably festive and atmospheric; only the parking situation --- as in any Chinatown anywhere in the world, I suppose --- was dreadful.

During our post-lunch shopping excursion to walk off the meal, I purchased another book on Pilates which has inspiring pictures of strong, slender people arching their bodies every which way. Better yet, it turns out that Terz has two mats lying around that can function as exercise mats, so I don't have to spend more money on getting one. Now if I could only find the discipline to do the routines three times a week like I'm supposed to ...