Thursday, November 2
Rogue Cravings
Today the baby wanted to eat a jar of cocktail olives for lunch. I had to say no and then administer my own spanking.
Monday, October 30
Thursday, October 19
Stupidity First
As a mother-to-be I was elated to find out that I can now sleep soundly at night. The CBC reports that a growing number of schools in the US are putting safety first and banning that fierce and violent pastime also known as TAG. Sorry kids, you'll have to just sniff more magic markers to get your kicks.
And to the Poindexter in the article who says he now feels safer at school: You can look forward to a beating which you probably deserve.
Tools.
What I wanted to have banned when I was seven:
1. teachers with coffee breath
2. eating glue
3. cooties
4. carrot sticks in my lunch box
5. Miss Hagen, the evil spinster librarian
6. licking the spout of the drinking fountain
7. picking your nose and eating it
8. singing Oh Canada in French
And to the Poindexter in the article who says he now feels safer at school: You can look forward to a beating which you probably deserve.
Tools.
What I wanted to have banned when I was seven:
1. teachers with coffee breath
2. eating glue
3. cooties
4. carrot sticks in my lunch box
5. Miss Hagen, the evil spinster librarian
6. licking the spout of the drinking fountain
7. picking your nose and eating it
8. singing Oh Canada in French
a dream i had
Last night I dreamt that the Hanshin Tigers signed a Buddhist monk to play for the team. But the monk wore a robe, and meditated through every pitch until he reached a full count. Only then would he swing, for that last pitch. The pitcher, so rattled by the monk`s zen state as he hurled the ball towards him, became increasingly nervous about his last throw, even though the odds were in his favour.
I woke up just before that final pitch. What would have happened? And what does it mean?
*****
In other news, I accepted candy from a strange man last night on the train even though I`m pretty sure my parents told me not to do that, ever. It was lemony sweet!
I woke up just before that final pitch. What would have happened? And what does it mean?
*****
In other news, I accepted candy from a strange man last night on the train even though I`m pretty sure my parents told me not to do that, ever. It was lemony sweet!
Saturday, October 14
well hello there
It's Saturday morning. My new thing is rising early and eating a hearty breakfast, leaving C snoring in bed for a few extra hours. Today I poured a tall glass of orange sunshine, turned up the Billie Holiday and sat around the kotatsu nibbling granola and yogurt, brown rice cakes and peanut butter and the most delicious organic apple I've ever bitten into. Should be good at three dollars a pop! My apetitie is back and I'm happy to report that my brief intimacy with the toilet, with the late night rendez-vous and morning quickies has come to an abrupt end. Finally, I feel like myself again.
As you've all noticed and commented, I've had a case of the blahgs lately. And consequently, have shown no blogger love for quite some time. I've probably lost my audience but alas, it's time to break the silence. When there is so much to write about, I hate feeling obligated to catch up. And so the cycle of procrastination. In the end, I have decided to just talk the same old trash and skip the big, important posts that I should have updated you with. Luckily, C is in the process of uploading all the pics from our big Indonesia odyssey so I will just direct you there with little more comment than: "yeah, what he said". We are going to have to get into a routine of tag-teaming so why not start with team blogging. Picking up where the other left off. He has also promised to guest blog on Little Green so stay tuned for a message from Daddy.
And now I will leave you with a few pictures taken last Sunday. It was a glorious long weekend. On Sunday morning, we awoke at 5:30 and dressed hastily in the early morning light. The harvest moon still hung full in the sky as the sun was coming up over the trees. Mr. Okabe picked us up a little after six, and we drove together to Hofukuji, the beautiful Buddhist temple in Soja. We were met there by a few monks, and a small gathering of zazen followers and first timers like ourselves. We were led into an airy chamber where we were invited to climb up on the rows of carefully arranged cushions. We each took a place on the cushions and twisted ourselves into half lotus position. The monk meticulously instructed us how to sit, and how to breathe but as always, like idiots, we had to take visual cues from the others. A stick of incense was lit and a small gong hit several times to mark the beginning of silence. For one hour, we were not to move a muscle, but concentrate on circular breathing, let our mind disengage, and enter into the oneness of time and space, and everything contained in between. Easier said than done. For the first half hour, I had some success with the meditation. However, when the monk emerged with a big stick and started whacking people on the back, I was a little distracted. Hard to stay in your zen place when the guy next to you is receiving a beating.
Perhaps the highlight for me was the monk chanting at the close of the ceremony. He had an incredible voice and was able to sustain the notes through circular breathing for what seemed minutes at a time.
Afterwards, we met with the zen master and enjoyed sour plum tea, as well as the traditional maccha green tea with adzuki bean sweet. We had to rely on Mr. Okabe for the English translations afterwards but did learn some interesting seasonal folk tales that the priest shared.
We were home and napping by 10:30 but were left feeling exhilirated by the unique Japanese experience. Coincidentally, that Sunday also marked the end of my retching and I have enjoyed excellent spirits and health ever since. I'm converted! I'll be going zen again soon!
Sunday afternoon we headed up to the mountains with a few friends. We camped on Yataka mountain and made an early rise climb to the top for sunrise. Here was the breathtaking view before us...
As you've all noticed and commented, I've had a case of the blahgs lately. And consequently, have shown no blogger love for quite some time. I've probably lost my audience but alas, it's time to break the silence. When there is so much to write about, I hate feeling obligated to catch up. And so the cycle of procrastination. In the end, I have decided to just talk the same old trash and skip the big, important posts that I should have updated you with. Luckily, C is in the process of uploading all the pics from our big Indonesia odyssey so I will just direct you there with little more comment than: "yeah, what he said". We are going to have to get into a routine of tag-teaming so why not start with team blogging. Picking up where the other left off. He has also promised to guest blog on Little Green so stay tuned for a message from Daddy.
And now I will leave you with a few pictures taken last Sunday. It was a glorious long weekend. On Sunday morning, we awoke at 5:30 and dressed hastily in the early morning light. The harvest moon still hung full in the sky as the sun was coming up over the trees. Mr. Okabe picked us up a little after six, and we drove together to Hofukuji, the beautiful Buddhist temple in Soja. We were met there by a few monks, and a small gathering of zazen followers and first timers like ourselves. We were led into an airy chamber where we were invited to climb up on the rows of carefully arranged cushions. We each took a place on the cushions and twisted ourselves into half lotus position. The monk meticulously instructed us how to sit, and how to breathe but as always, like idiots, we had to take visual cues from the others. A stick of incense was lit and a small gong hit several times to mark the beginning of silence. For one hour, we were not to move a muscle, but concentrate on circular breathing, let our mind disengage, and enter into the oneness of time and space, and everything contained in between. Easier said than done. For the first half hour, I had some success with the meditation. However, when the monk emerged with a big stick and started whacking people on the back, I was a little distracted. Hard to stay in your zen place when the guy next to you is receiving a beating.
Perhaps the highlight for me was the monk chanting at the close of the ceremony. He had an incredible voice and was able to sustain the notes through circular breathing for what seemed minutes at a time.
Afterwards, we met with the zen master and enjoyed sour plum tea, as well as the traditional maccha green tea with adzuki bean sweet. We had to rely on Mr. Okabe for the English translations afterwards but did learn some interesting seasonal folk tales that the priest shared.
We were home and napping by 10:30 but were left feeling exhilirated by the unique Japanese experience. Coincidentally, that Sunday also marked the end of my retching and I have enjoyed excellent spirits and health ever since. I'm converted! I'll be going zen again soon!
Sunday afternoon we headed up to the mountains with a few friends. We camped on Yataka mountain and made an early rise climb to the top for sunrise. Here was the breathtaking view before us...
Saturday, September 30
God's Gonna Cut You Down
Sadly, the MPAA slapped this trailer with a red ban so you won't see it in theatres....
Deliver Us From Evil
Deliver Us From Evil
Tuesday, September 26
Typical Tuesday
Here's my day in a nutshell...
-woke up to minor earthquake
-sang Michael Jackson song in front of 300 people
-hit on by a sixteen year old boy in the dark
-chased by paparazzi of high school girls with disposable cameras
-threw up while riding my bicycle
-threw up on my driveway
-went to bed
-woke up to minor earthquake
-sang Michael Jackson song in front of 300 people
-hit on by a sixteen year old boy in the dark
-chased by paparazzi of high school girls with disposable cameras
-threw up while riding my bicycle
-threw up on my driveway
-went to bed
Tuesday, September 12
When we heed a certain call
It's that time of year again. Head bowed, avoiding all eye contact, hiding inside my locker til after cleaning time, I thought this year I could maybe, just maybe get out of participating in the dignity-sucking School Festival hit pararde. Last year, I gave it my best Karen Carpentar, belting out On Top Of The World with a shit-eating grin spread wide across my face. Did I have fun? Absolutely. In a kind of, "well, this is a unique Japanese experience that I never care to repeat" kind of way. And just when I thought I was off the hook, two students slyly entrapped me at my desk, slipping me a CD and requesting with sad, puppy dog eyes that I sing again this year. When I looked at what they wanted me to sing, I asked them if they were freaking bananas. They looked at me blankly, muttered "nani?" and took my reply as a yes. I will say this: my moment has come. On stage, performing before a live audience and backed by a full brass band, I have been hand-picked to sing We Are The World. By myself.
I`ve been studiously watching the 1985 video in an attempt to master the swaying and facial ticks of each singer. Oh, yes. I plan to do all the voices. I especially love slipping from Dionne Warwick to Willy Nelson. Or from Kenny Rogers to James Ingram. They're gonna think I'm possessed by a freaking demon. Any costume suggestions? Maybe just an oversized pair of padded headphones...
I`ve been studiously watching the 1985 video in an attempt to master the swaying and facial ticks of each singer. Oh, yes. I plan to do all the voices. I especially love slipping from Dionne Warwick to Willy Nelson. Or from Kenny Rogers to James Ingram. They're gonna think I'm possessed by a freaking demon. Any costume suggestions? Maybe just an oversized pair of padded headphones...
Monday, September 11
Invisible Ink
Maybe I wrote in invisible ink,
Oh I tried to think
How I could make it appear...
We are back from Indonesia. I haven't been able to write about it, not until now. And even this post is hush hush. We discovered something so life-altering in the jungle that it has been difficult to think of anything else. I'm pregnant. And boy, was that unexpected! In case you`re wondering how something like this could happen, see this post. Check out what we've been up to the past couple of weeks. I've started an offshore blog to document our shock and bewilderment (and our joy, of course). I promise to get back to regular updates soon. In the meantime, you can read about my retching at: http://littlegreen2007.blogspot.com
Oh I tried to think
How I could make it appear...
We are back from Indonesia. I haven't been able to write about it, not until now. And even this post is hush hush. We discovered something so life-altering in the jungle that it has been difficult to think of anything else. I'm pregnant. And boy, was that unexpected! In case you`re wondering how something like this could happen, see this post. Check out what we've been up to the past couple of weeks. I've started an offshore blog to document our shock and bewilderment (and our joy, of course). I promise to get back to regular updates soon. In the meantime, you can read about my retching at: http://littlegreen2007.blogspot.com
Sunday, September 10
Teaser Trailer
I have yet to recover from my mystery jungle illness. All will be revealed shortly. In the meantime, here are some shots to whet your appetitie. I've missed you!!
Saturday, August 5
Down to the Wire
It's 15 hours before departure and we're just packing the last of our things. Not so long ago, I could throw together a suitcase in 15 minutes. Destination unknown: Tel-Aviv, Sao Paulo, Paris, Thunder Bay, Saskatoon, it didn't matter. I could be ready to go anywhere with the snap of a finger. No clean underwear? No problem. Just turn them inside out! One year later, I sit here ironing handkerchiefs and t-shirts, placing everything neatly into labeled zip-lock bags. Is my grandmother inhabiting my body? Next thing you know I'll be sewing the days of the week onto the ass of my undies.
Also in preparation for tomorrow's departure, C and I have removed our wedding rings and filed our nails down to the bone. Apparently, there will be no toilet paper available at the camp. We are expected to make do with our left hand, a bucket of water, and a scoop. Constipation never looked so good! At least we've got the squat down from living in Japan. Ah, well. As the old saying goes, when in Rome...
Joking aside, we are jumping up and down with excitement and anticipation. Only one more sleep!! Be back at the end of August! So long, folks!
ps...In Sumatra I can give up a lot of things: TV, the internet, my ipod and even toilet paper. But one thing I will miss is a new episode of Wiretap on CBC radio. If anyone can tape it for me, I'll be their best friend.
August 6/Wiretap: The Promise of Childhood
Jonathan Goldstein describes how it feels when Zuuzuu discovers the Beatles. Gregor does his best to save a precocious child from certain doom - a future of adult mediocrity. Howard tries to convince Goldstein to revisit the glories of childhood with a round of what he claims was the best game ever: No Rules Octopus Rock Tag.
The new episodes now air on Sundays (Monday for us--rats!!!)
Also in preparation for tomorrow's departure, C and I have removed our wedding rings and filed our nails down to the bone. Apparently, there will be no toilet paper available at the camp. We are expected to make do with our left hand, a bucket of water, and a scoop. Constipation never looked so good! At least we've got the squat down from living in Japan. Ah, well. As the old saying goes, when in Rome...
Joking aside, we are jumping up and down with excitement and anticipation. Only one more sleep!! Be back at the end of August! So long, folks!
ps...In Sumatra I can give up a lot of things: TV, the internet, my ipod and even toilet paper. But one thing I will miss is a new episode of Wiretap on CBC radio. If anyone can tape it for me, I'll be their best friend.
August 6/Wiretap: The Promise of Childhood
Jonathan Goldstein describes how it feels when Zuuzuu discovers the Beatles. Gregor does his best to save a precocious child from certain doom - a future of adult mediocrity. Howard tries to convince Goldstein to revisit the glories of childhood with a round of what he claims was the best game ever: No Rules Octopus Rock Tag.
The new episodes now air on Sundays (Monday for us--rats!!!)
Thursday, August 3
These Boots Were Made For
I have a foot fetish. Often I have pondered the nature and origin of my fetish and have come to the conclusion that I just like going places. There are always places to come from, and places to go, and damn it, it's my feet that take me there. In turn, I am kind to my feet. I spoil them with expensive lotions and creams. I trip around in comfy Mary Janes and flip flops, and they have yet to complain of a blister this summer.
Boots have, and will always be the ultimate treat for my feet. Some will recall the girly rainboots I just had to have, or those sexy brown suede knee highs I kicked around in for years. In high school, my social-in was owing to a pair of 10-hole Dock Martens (OK, the ripped fishnets helped too.)
And tonight, shopping for mosquito repellant at the Namba Home Centre, I had to give in to yet another whimsical demand of my feet. Behold, the ninja boot:
They are currently only popular among Japanese construction workers and myself. I will see that they catch on. Everybody needs a pair, I say. They are light and quick-drying with amazing grip. And when you slip them on you feel a little like a super hero...or a marsupial.
I must run now. There are trees to climb. And walls to scale. And balls to bust.
Boots have, and will always be the ultimate treat for my feet. Some will recall the girly rainboots I just had to have, or those sexy brown suede knee highs I kicked around in for years. In high school, my social-in was owing to a pair of 10-hole Dock Martens (OK, the ripped fishnets helped too.)
And tonight, shopping for mosquito repellant at the Namba Home Centre, I had to give in to yet another whimsical demand of my feet. Behold, the ninja boot:
They are currently only popular among Japanese construction workers and myself. I will see that they catch on. Everybody needs a pair, I say. They are light and quick-drying with amazing grip. And when you slip them on you feel a little like a super hero...or a marsupial.
I must run now. There are trees to climb. And walls to scale. And balls to bust.
Tuesday, August 1
Eavesdrop
on a conversation I had:
-Do you know where I can find a bathing suit to fit me?
-How about a military base.
-Wha?
-Do you know where I can find a bathing suit to fit me?
-How about a military base.
-Wha?
Sunday, July 30
Fireworks Festival
The rainy season is over. The oppressive heat of summer has arrived in full force, accompanied by the deafening song of the cicadas. In celebration of summer, we did what anybody would do: don traditional clothing and suppress our breathing! We met at Chisato's house where her mom manhandled us into snuggly fitting yukata. I could feel my arms and legs, but not much in between, the obi cutting off every sensation (except for pain). Christopher's challenge was of a different nature: he had to walk in wooden platform geta while serving as porter and photographer to all the ladies.
The Fireworks Festival in Kasaoka was rather impressive, with 40 000 people coming from nearby towns to take part. What I enjoyed most was admiring the hundreds of different yukata patterns and hearing the click click click of wooden geta on the pavement. As foreigners, we mostly attracted curious stares and the occasional point. I will tell myself it was because we looked so beautiful.
Not to be performed in yukata: eating, drinking of any kind, urinating, opera arias.
The Fireworks Festival in Kasaoka was rather impressive, with 40 000 people coming from nearby towns to take part. What I enjoyed most was admiring the hundreds of different yukata patterns and hearing the click click click of wooden geta on the pavement. As foreigners, we mostly attracted curious stares and the occasional point. I will tell myself it was because we looked so beautiful.
Not to be performed in yukata: eating, drinking of any kind, urinating, opera arias.
Tuesday, July 25
Simple Twist of Fate
We finally got off our butts and booked a flight to Indonesia. After hmmming and hawwwing between Bali, Borneo and Sumatra, we settled on Bali and Lombok. And wouldn`t you know it, 24 hours later, the Orangutan Health Project in Sumatra finally responded to our queries about volunteering on the program. Gahhhhh! I guess some things are just not meant to be.
...or are they? Turns out, there are a couple of cheap and easy flights we can catch to make it to Medan for the August expedition. After three weeks of ironing out the many wrinkles we have decided to do it. We just sent in our forms and have started training (I can do 50 sit-ups and 5 push-ups!) The ball is rolling, folks.
Check out the project.
...or are they? Turns out, there are a couple of cheap and easy flights we can catch to make it to Medan for the August expedition. After three weeks of ironing out the many wrinkles we have decided to do it. We just sent in our forms and have started training (I can do 50 sit-ups and 5 push-ups!) The ball is rolling, folks.
Check out the project.
Saturday, July 22
Dress Up
Georgina and I try on summer yukata for the fireworks festival. We refuse the ugly selection of "tall girl" sizes and opt for a three quarter length sleeve instead. Also purchased: traditional wooden geta for Christopher (Japan's answer to Dutch wooden clogs). I'll be able to hear him coming!
Later at the bar, Dan dresses up like someone's grandmother. That's what they get for running a clothing store by day and a watering hole by night!
Later at the bar, Dan dresses up like someone's grandmother. That's what they get for running a clothing store by day and a watering hole by night! 
Friday, July 21
Tuesday, July 18
The Ugly Stick
Mammoth mouth-breather Miyabiyama defeats Hakuho in an upset victory Monday. In related news, The Sumo Association receives petition demanding the wrestler wear a bra.
Other disappointments: Dumb brute Baruto manhandles Kotooushu out of the ring.
Monday, July 17
Long Weekend
The Plan: camping on Mayajima island.
Materials: 2 Dahon folding bikes, 1 imported Canadian tent, beer, snacks, 2 silk sleeping bags, sunscreen, deodorant, toilet paper.
Wardrobe: clean t-shirt, shorts, trainers.
The Reality: intermittent thunderstorms, flat tire, oversleeping, impromptu dinner party, 8 consecutive hours of movie viewing, afternoon boozing, sumo upsets.
Materials: 2 granny bikes w. baskets, 7-Eleven, 24-hour video store, 1 gas burner, beer, wine, sake, rum, ouzo (ouch-o), Brad and Alicia.
Wardrobe: pajamas and/or underwear
Sunday, July 16
This is your captain speaking
It’s hard to believe that it has been one year since I turned in my wings, retired the heels and said sayonara to my friends and family. Life on the ground has been more agreeable than I would have imagined and I have even come to (gasp) like the M-F routine. A ringing phone no longer punctuates the night with the following one-sided conversation: Congratulations! You’ve won a trip to [shitty destination]. Check-in is in two hours. Click.
But changing horses in midstream comes with its own set of challenges. At times I feel like a giant fraud, making it up as I go along. The time I spent earning my degrees is like a hazy cloud in my head after a night of binge drinking. Did I really do that? Yes, you did. That was you. So why am I left feeling so inadequate and ill equipped? And then again, does it really matter? I’d rather be a fraud than a chicken shit. Like my uncle Dennis sneaking into the swimming pool at The Plaza, I’ll just strut my stuff until someone says: “hey, what the f*ck do you think you’re doing?” And then run like hell…
The year in retrospect has been good for me. My face looks the same in the mirror but I know that I have changed in sublte ways that even elude myself. The education system in Japan is tragically flawed but I have shifted my focus to more important things, namely, motivating students and spreading an enthusiasm for, well, everything. I've sacrificed my dignity playing air guitar in class, dressing up my boys in drag, and the crowning moment: belting out On Top of the World with the Brass Band backing me up. It's the cumulative day-to-day moments with my kids that have made me reach for a pen and sign up for another year. Unlike the nameless passengers being chauffered between Point A and B, I'm met with bright and expectant faces every day. It gets me out of bed in the morning…without so much as a phone call.
Sometimes you have to take a giant wrecking ball to your life and put it back together the way you want it. The change has done me good. Cruising at a different altitude, it’s now my turn to relax, sit back, and enjoy the ride.
before:
after:
But changing horses in midstream comes with its own set of challenges. At times I feel like a giant fraud, making it up as I go along. The time I spent earning my degrees is like a hazy cloud in my head after a night of binge drinking. Did I really do that? Yes, you did. That was you. So why am I left feeling so inadequate and ill equipped? And then again, does it really matter? I’d rather be a fraud than a chicken shit. Like my uncle Dennis sneaking into the swimming pool at The Plaza, I’ll just strut my stuff until someone says: “hey, what the f*ck do you think you’re doing?” And then run like hell…
The year in retrospect has been good for me. My face looks the same in the mirror but I know that I have changed in sublte ways that even elude myself. The education system in Japan is tragically flawed but I have shifted my focus to more important things, namely, motivating students and spreading an enthusiasm for, well, everything. I've sacrificed my dignity playing air guitar in class, dressing up my boys in drag, and the crowning moment: belting out On Top of the World with the Brass Band backing me up. It's the cumulative day-to-day moments with my kids that have made me reach for a pen and sign up for another year. Unlike the nameless passengers being chauffered between Point A and B, I'm met with bright and expectant faces every day. It gets me out of bed in the morning…without so much as a phone call.
Sometimes you have to take a giant wrecking ball to your life and put it back together the way you want it. The change has done me good. Cruising at a different altitude, it’s now my turn to relax, sit back, and enjoy the ride.
before:
after:
Friday, July 14
Lacroix sweetie, Lacroix.
This afternoon I was perusing a friend's blog. As I scrolled down to check out the new design I noticed her links and started clicking away. One link was entitled: Keeping Import Wine Sales High. Intrigued, I clicked, only to be directed to my own blog. Very amusing. I guess at times the blog can read like a night out with Eddy and Patsy. On that note, here is your quote of the week, sweeties:
"The last mosquito that bit me had to check in to The Betty Ford Clinic".
"The last mosquito that bit me had to check in to The Betty Ford Clinic".
Sunday, July 9
Recipe
Ingredients:
one large booth
20 JETs
3 JTEs
20,000 song titles
100 conbini beers
2 microphones
20 JETs
3 JTEs
20,000 song titles
100 conbini beers
2 microphones
And voila!
You have a Saturday night!
Ready for this?
Beer is my boyfriend.
Divinyls Duet. When I Think About You I Touch Myself...
Like I said...
Everybody loves a Scottish lass! And I will drink five hundred beers and I will drink five hundred more... DADADADADADA!
Demure Patrique is not immune to the feminine charms of: Irene Cara, Beyonce, Bonnie Tyler and Julia. (I have a secret theory that Patrique is really a vampire. He aroused suspicion yet again with his karaoke selection: Fame! I`m gonna live forever...coincidence?)
The King of Karaoke: the best songster this town has ever seen.
I smell a Styx song coming on...could it be the shirt?
Awwww.
Saturday, July 8
Friday, July 7
The Daytripper
We have a date today, the city and I. You'll pick me up bright and early, right? You remember the place: the old basement apartment on Shaw, precariously straddling the border of Little Italy and Portugal. That's right, the red brick house across from the park with the leaky faucet and futon shaped like a hotdog bun (another story, that one). Antonio, the landlord will likely be outside giving the lawn a crew cut. You can't miss him. He'll be wearing his khaki shorts, navy pull-up socks and sandals. He'll force a smile but hawk eye you as you approach the house, thinking that you're also in need of a haircut. For the love of god, don't step on the man's grass. And don't be late...
So what do you want to do first? It's such a beautiful day, I suggest we cut down to Crawford and admire some of the Edwardian homes. I love these old maple lined streets. Hey, doesn't Daniel Richler live in that one? No, I think he moved awhile back. But Broken Social Scene still jams around here in one of these old monsters. Come on now, keep up.
We're approaching Dundas street. I see a familiar red streetcar flash by, accelerating and emitting sparks. I sigh deeply. We come to the intersection and I point out where Miss Nix used to live before we lost her to the burbs (she'll soon return to Liberty Village) We wait for the light to change, and observe the metamorphosis that has taken place on the once sketchy street. Gone is the sad succession of boarded up shops. You are quick to point out how they've been replaced by the flirty Skirt and Clandestino, as well as a recently renovated Cafe Brasiliano. And let's not forget our favourite hang out, The Communist's Daughter. Ah yes, we'll come back to that one later...it deserves its own post.
I know what C would call all this: gentrification. But it's just so much easier on the eye than the crack houses of old, don't you think?
But enough about Dundas. Especially when the green oasis of Trinity Park lies before us. Let's take a stroll through it! Oh, how I've missed you! Hey, look! A cop on horseback! What's he thinking walking past the Dog Park? Look at the terriers going freaking bananas--hilarious.
Do you remember this spot? Last summer we congregated here and stretched out on blankets under a starry night sky. I was in charge of mixing the gin and tonics and made them too strong. That's where Carine passed out. I wonder what she's up to today...maybe she can meet us!
I have a hankering for something sweet now. How about a caffe latte and a decadent pain au chocolat from Clafouti, the best French bakery in the city? Mais pourquoi pas? No, we don't need a bag for those. They are going straight into our mouths. And, since this is a fantasy and all, let's eat six a piece, okay? Moving on (we have to work off that pound of butter).
Next destination: Kensington Market. The fridge is empty, after all. We must stop and pick up some organic veggies from Potts. What's he got today? Oh my god, that kale is enormous! And there he is, singing along to Al Green and cooking up his own stew which he will generously share with any takers. I could stay here all day shooting the shit with this man. I lurve you, Potts!
You look at your watch and I shoot you a dirty one. How dare you rush me! But you remind me how much left there is to do today--if I am to be satisfied. Time for breakfast. What will it be? The patio at Musa with the delightfully surly wait staff? Our usual scrambled egg crepe with hollandaise at Boom? Healthy organic scrambled eggs and organic salad at Luna? Um, no. I think what I want is Cafe Brasiliano Eggs Florentine. Let's hurry so we can snag a booth!
Stay tuned for the next nostalgia-induced Hog Town Visit...
Nostalgia-Helpers:
Almost Summer-Jason Collett
Hangover Days - Jason Collett
Hell, that whole album (Idols of Exile)
Friends Forever - Old 97s
Away - Kathleen Edwards
Strawberry Blonde - Ron Sexsmith
Northern Wish - Rheostatics
Mushaboom - Feist
So what do you want to do first? It's such a beautiful day, I suggest we cut down to Crawford and admire some of the Edwardian homes. I love these old maple lined streets. Hey, doesn't Daniel Richler live in that one? No, I think he moved awhile back. But Broken Social Scene still jams around here in one of these old monsters. Come on now, keep up.
We're approaching Dundas street. I see a familiar red streetcar flash by, accelerating and emitting sparks. I sigh deeply. We come to the intersection and I point out where Miss Nix used to live before we lost her to the burbs (she'll soon return to Liberty Village) We wait for the light to change, and observe the metamorphosis that has taken place on the once sketchy street. Gone is the sad succession of boarded up shops. You are quick to point out how they've been replaced by the flirty Skirt and Clandestino, as well as a recently renovated Cafe Brasiliano. And let's not forget our favourite hang out, The Communist's Daughter. Ah yes, we'll come back to that one later...it deserves its own post.
I know what C would call all this: gentrification. But it's just so much easier on the eye than the crack houses of old, don't you think?
But enough about Dundas. Especially when the green oasis of Trinity Park lies before us. Let's take a stroll through it! Oh, how I've missed you! Hey, look! A cop on horseback! What's he thinking walking past the Dog Park? Look at the terriers going freaking bananas--hilarious.
Do you remember this spot? Last summer we congregated here and stretched out on blankets under a starry night sky. I was in charge of mixing the gin and tonics and made them too strong. That's where Carine passed out. I wonder what she's up to today...maybe she can meet us!
I have a hankering for something sweet now. How about a caffe latte and a decadent pain au chocolat from Clafouti, the best French bakery in the city? Mais pourquoi pas? No, we don't need a bag for those. They are going straight into our mouths. And, since this is a fantasy and all, let's eat six a piece, okay? Moving on (we have to work off that pound of butter).
Next destination: Kensington Market. The fridge is empty, after all. We must stop and pick up some organic veggies from Potts. What's he got today? Oh my god, that kale is enormous! And there he is, singing along to Al Green and cooking up his own stew which he will generously share with any takers. I could stay here all day shooting the shit with this man. I lurve you, Potts!
You look at your watch and I shoot you a dirty one. How dare you rush me! But you remind me how much left there is to do today--if I am to be satisfied. Time for breakfast. What will it be? The patio at Musa with the delightfully surly wait staff? Our usual scrambled egg crepe with hollandaise at Boom? Healthy organic scrambled eggs and organic salad at Luna? Um, no. I think what I want is Cafe Brasiliano Eggs Florentine. Let's hurry so we can snag a booth!
Stay tuned for the next nostalgia-induced Hog Town Visit...
Nostalgia-Helpers:
Almost Summer-Jason CollettHangover Days - Jason Collett
Hell, that whole album (Idols of Exile)
Friends Forever - Old 97s
Away - Kathleen Edwards
Strawberry Blonde - Ron Sexsmith
Northern Wish - Rheostatics
Mushaboom - Feist
Thursday, July 6
Wednesday, July 5
Hot Diggidy Dog
Takeru Kobayashi: Still the Hot Dog Eating Champion Of the World
The 130 lb lightweight from Nagano does it again!
The 130 lb lightweight from Nagano does it again!
Who says Japan has no celebrities?
Monday, July 3
my new favourite snack
Introducing:
Special Edition "Gas Pedal" Doritos
For crotch-kickin good times
Also for a limited time:
Special Edition "Pervy Stares" Doritos
Have you been ogled yet today?
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