Rafi's Space

Ok . . . for those of you who wanted to know.  Here are pictures of what I got my sister for xmas.

Here's a link to the original earrings:
http://www.tiffany.com/shopping/item.aspx?c_id=WEB1&c_it=74J3&search_params=t+figure+eight-s+0-p+1-r+-x+&

and necklace:

http://www.tiffany.com/shopping/item.aspx?c_id=WEB1&c_it=74L&search_params=t+figure+eight-s+0-p+1-r+-x+&

Why is something as expensive as jewelry so least functional???

I love my sister.  She's great.  She's always been there for me and has been generous over the years.  To give you an example, for my graduation present back in May, my sister bought me a REALLY NICE $400 Bolova watch.  Once again . . . generous and I love her to death.

But that generosity and love comes at a cost around holiday time I discovered.

Unlike other members of my family this christmas who are happy just to see me come home, my sister bombards me with IM's asking:  (Warning, most of this convo is paraphrased)

Tabinda:  "Soooooo what are you bringing me from San Francisco for christmas????" . . .

Rafi: "What do you want?"

Tabinda: "Any of the following will suffice"

At this point I receive a series of URL's from her that go to sites of stuff that she wants.  Somehow every single link is for some piece of jewelry from the Tiffany's collection.  At first I think to myself: "She's your sister, you love her and you should be willing to drop some money on her."  Before I even click on any of the links, I prepared myself for the horror and tears would follow from the cost of everything and clicked on the links.

I navigate the links and each link I open is more expensive than the next.  Clearly my sister is on crack since one of the links she sent me was for a diamond bracelet that was about a good $5,000.  I told her to keep smoking that hashish.

After all the nagging and tears from looking through the Tiffany's website, I did end up purchasing something from the store for her.  Hopefully she will like it.  I got her a matching set of stuff.  Details will come after xmas.

I’m sweaty and I smell bad right now.  That’s what happens on a good day at the gym.  I'm on month 3 of working out regularly.  I try to make it to the gym about 3 times a week.  Minimum of 2, on average 3, on my best week 4.  Not all that impressive I know but I figure it’s better than nothing.

I've been seeing a personal trainer throughout this time.  His name is Vince.  Good guy.  Seems to know what he's talking about and I've gotten results from working with him.  What's nice, in a masochistic sort of way, is that he tortures me at the gym in the way I need.  For example, he's the type of guy that makes me do something really tiring and painful, lets me stop and says "You know what, I'm not tired yet, how about you give me another set".  At that point I look down in pain and despair and keep going.  I’m not actually in pain or anything but during those moments when I don’t feel like I have the motivation to do it, I have someone to be accountable to which gives me that extra push I need to keep going.

I’m thankful to my roommate Ellie.  She’s a health nut and forces Jon and me to eat healthy.  Thank god b/c we both need it.  Otherwise we’d both become big fat tubs of lard.  For me it’s more of a genetic disposition.  At any rate . . . gonna go take a shower now.

After a long, annoying and painful week.  My spaces account is finally active and working.  The product is still in beta so I wont get my hopes up but now, I no longer have to rely on my other space.

Alrighty people . . . the saga of Rafi Khan begins. (as soon as I figure out where the hell to start ;) )