2006 Recap

In keeping with recapping tradition, here's what 2006 looked like.

(Instructions: take the first sentence (or 2) from the first post of each month of 2006. That's your year in review.)

When I was a wee baby, I used to want to grow up to be a horse. And that is completely apropos of NOTHING.

When I was in primary school, one thing that I looked forward to every year was the MS Readathon. Did I care that the money raised went towards Multiple Sclerosis research? Hell no. But a sport for your brain? Ohhhh, yeah.

Jeff, my trainer, fairly murdered my biceps and back this morning. I have been walking around all day, arms cradled around each other, perhaps making dinosaur noises.

And not ass of the hot buttered variety, either. But as a child, I devoured them with much aplomb, even though I suspect the chocolate? At least 75% plastic.

Some of you may be wondering why I haven't mentioned Rick Springfield's performance on the Daytime Emmy Awards on Friday. Let me just say that I only recently pulled out of the swoon it put me in.

It must be a fashiony day! Look what arrived at my house this week. Oh, BCBG, how I love you:

But without the tripping. And without the funny.

Although I fear by stating such that the exact opposite will come true. But, still - today I met with my renovation project's new project manager, and their countertop supplier came in to measure my cabinets for their top.

Well, except for paint touch-ups, that is. What am I talking about? Why, my bathroom renovation, of course!

Get your mind out of the gutter - I'm referring to my car. And the crazy lady who ran into my rear end this morning on the way to work.

Crushes come and go, and I've moved on, and on again, to a new love.

That would make me so happy, I would clap like a seal!

An Excellent Toaster

And look how cute it looks in my kitchen!


I can't remember a time in my life when I've actually been in possession of a pop-up toaster. It's always been toaster-ovens-or-bust in my house, because, why have a machine that only does one thing when you can have one that does two or three (usually none of them very well).

Thankfully, it makes an awesome piece of toast, and has made friends with its neighbours, the food processor (ROBOT CUISENAIRE!) and spice grinder. Plus, defrost and reheat options! Slots big enough to toast a bagel!

It really is love, I think.

Proof That There's a Reason for the Immaturity

If you've been anywhere near a TV in the past couple of years, you've seen Drs Michael Roizen and Mehmet Oz on the talkshow and newsmagazine circuit, flogging their book You: The Owner's Manual.

As a part of their official site, they've provided an extensive questionnaire that calculates your real age, taking into account your lifestyle, as well as medical and family histories. Enlightening, indeed.

Wondering how I fared?

Calendar Age: 32.8
Real Age: 24.3

See? I told you there was a reason for the silliness. And now there's proof.

Making Out Like A Bandit

Is what I feel like I did yesterday, with my Christmas loot. And though the holidays aren't supposed to be about the presents, I am still honest enough to admit that they sure do make me happy.

But even better? Watching the people who you've bought something for unwrap and examine, and, if you're lucky, turn to you with just that look in their eyes, like you got them the exactly right thing. Then you feel like both Smokey AND the Bandit (wedding dress and porn-stache optional) .

Completely unrelated, until this morning, I had thoughts of purchasing yet another Mackage. Then I really started to think about it - although lovely, the things that have really made me happy over the past few years have been the things I've experienced, instead of the things that I have. Even though the things I have are freaking awesome. So I'd rather give myself an excellent birthday - whether I stay in town or take off for a weekend - and have something excellent to remember and think on and savour for ages to come.

Where You Been?

I have been even less prolific then usual this week, and I put it all down to the fact that vacations turn me into a sloth, like this:


And sometimes, like this:


HEY YOU GUUUUUUUYS.

It's a Peeler

But not in the stripper sense. So close to being a monkey knife fight, you don't even know.

Via Target

A Proper Size Comparison

I knew the new IPod Shuffles were tiny, but I had no idea just how wee they really were. Until one arrived at my house this morning, via the organizers of a conference I'll be attending in the new year.


So tiny! So cute! It is making me make cooing noises at it.

In other news, I started my final vacation for the year yesterday, and I shant be returning to work until January 4th. So far, my days have been full of sessions at the gym with Jeff, my trainer, and lunch yesterday at The Siddhartha with my excellent friend Brad.

Annnnd....scene.

Dick in a Box

Justin Timberlake on Saturday Night Live. Excellent.

Ballet Girls

For the past few weeks, I've found myself engrossed in the 3-part documentary mini-series Ballet Girls. Filmed in the second half of 2005 at the Royal Winnipeg Ballet, it follows a number of young and teenage girls, as they take-part in an intensive dance camp, through enrollment in the school of dance, through auditions for the RWB's annual production of The Nutcracker touring company.

The series has been making me think a lot about my own childhood, and the time I spent dancing. It makes me think about how different my life could have been if I had a different temperament as a child. As a kid, I was a quitter. It's true! I know some of you who have only known me as an adult might scoff at the thought, but, seriously, it's true.

I saw first enrolled in ballet class before I was even enrolled in grade school. I took part in two recitals, and have the photographic evidence that I just might have to scan when I next visit my parents to prove it. Following a move to a new city, a couple of years later I enrolled in gymnastics. And quit. And started taking piano classes. And quit. And enrolled in jazz dance classes. And quit.

And though I was a middling-to-not-so-bad student in all of them, I had neither the love or drive for any to make a permanent part of my life. Which is a shame, because I think my body was made for all of them. Long limbs; small stature; long, tapering fingers; flexibility that can sometimes be a little circus-freak scary; feet with a pointe that my dance instructors would use as an example for other students.

And it's making me think a lot of about how fun re-taking up ballet would be, and how the last dance studio that I attended is still up-and-running. And how I should call to see if they're offering adult classes. Because how could wearing a tutu as a 32-year-old woman not fucking rule?

World's Tallest Man? Saving Dolphins? Best. Story. Ever.

This is Bao Xishun, the world's tallest man.



This is Bao Xishun's left hand.




This is Bao Xishun sticking his hand down the throat of a dolphin, removing the plastic that it was choking on.




Read the story here: Toronto Star - World's Tallest Man Saves Choking Dolphins

Have Passport, Will Travel

That's right, the Government of Canada has made the dubious decision to lay claim to my nationality and let me loose on the world.

So, when are you going to invite me to visit you?

Completely unrelated, you must click on over to La Tartine Gourmande. Amazing food photography accompanied by recipes. Hot. And also, Damn. Look! Macarons made with Macha Tea and Chocolate Ganache!

Bare Knuckle Brawler

I'm looking down at my hands right now, and they're a complete and utter mess. Mostly because I'm a klutz. Like Daphne, from Scooby Doo. Give me something hot to handle (except my ass. That's hotness that I can handle) and I'll show you a burn waiting to happen. Something sharp? Cuts a-plenty.

I've given up wishing for an incident-free life, as I know I'd be more likely to find out that I was (a) adopted, and (b) a princess. And since I look so much that the pharmacist that we share, who has never seen us together, felt it necessary to marvel over the resemblance last month.

I will always be accident prone. And I will always, eventually, make my way over here to injury-blog.

I reckon this serves as a warning, as slipping on ice weather is about to start. Let the pain begin!

Sleeper Cell Returns

And I am delighted. Although I have issues with Showtime for blocking access to their website to non-US residents, I forgive them that slight due to the fact that they produce incredible, incredible television.

Last year, the first season of Sleeper Cell followed a Muslim FBI agent as he infiltrated and eventually brought down a sleeper cell of multi-ethnic terrorists inside the United States. The show was marked not only by stunning and nuanced performances by Michael Ealy and Oded Fehr, but also taut and thoughtful plotting and dialogue. A compassionate treatment of the subject at hand, even and thought provoking.

I loved the show, and I am very much looking forward to it's return. Except, one thing, that is. Dude, what's up with Ealy's hair?

I Would Totally Marry Stephen Colbert

Is That A Tree On Your Skirt, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

Oh. Well, apparently, it IS a tree.

The Eve Gravel La Noyee skirt that I ordered as an exchange for the crazily up-sized Spoken dress arrived today, and La Noyee and I? I feel like we may be in love.

She looks a little like this, but in olive brown, with the tree in a gentle beige:

I Am A Fountain of Knowledge and Truth

"That would make me so happy, I would clap like a seal!"

"The drama! It's like we're an episode of Dynasty. But without the money. And shoulder pads."

"This is the second purple thing I've eaten today."

This is what I sound like at the office. It gets worse when I don't have to put on a professional demeanor.

If You Had A Sheet of Cork, What Would You Do With It?

Earlier this year, the facilities management team at the office created a massive cork board for our department by attaching a sheet of cork right to one of our walls. This was a good half year ago. Ever since, the end bit of that sheet has been sitting in the back room, all rolled up and lonely looking.

Being an artistic opportunist, I finally got sad enough looking at that poor sheet of cork sitting all bored by itself to make sure that the building had no use for it, and brought it home, like a stray dog, with me last week.

I have plans. Art plans. Art plans involving cork. And, wouldn't you know it? Three weeks of vacation coming down the pipe.

My house is about to become a disaster area. I just know it.

Cork dog image lifted from Cork Doll.

Let Them Eat, Erm, Wedding Cake

Gay wedding cake, that is. Though I really am at a loss at how you can make a wedding cake look MORE gay, but...yeah, wedding cakes are pretty much the gayest cakes in existance.

Anyway, Kate forwarded on an email from Canadians for Equal Marriage, and I urge you, if you support the ideal of equal rights, please, take the time to send a message to your MP telling him or her that you do not want the law repealed, and sign the CfEM petition to not reopen debate surrounding equal marriage.

Note: I'm not just posting this because I want my gay friends to throw an excellent party that will fill my belly with excellent food. But that's definitely a part of it. Just not the whole reason.

PS: Check out that cake. GAY!

Stand Up, Fall Down

It's been a sweet forever since my foot fell asleep. A sweet forever, I say! A sweet forever that was broken today.

While sitting at my desk, wearing 2 inch high heels, I somehow managed to sit in a manner that hit that exact spot that cuts off feeling to my right foot. So much so that I didn't even realize that feeling had ceased.

Until I stood up. On 2.5 inch heels. And found my own surprised self then sprawled on the floor behind my desk.

Over the course of the next couple of hours, I proceeded to tell everyone in my office who missed the display about it. And then I came home and composed a blog post about it, with an excellent accompanying graphic. And then I hit publish.

I am an attention hog, I think.

Image from Toothpaste For Dinner.

I Win Things

It's true - I do. It's because I have a wee bit of an embarrasing habit; I enter online contests.

In the past year, I've won the following:

• * Kids in the Hall Season 1 DVD set

• * JLo full size perfume and candle set. It smelled like floral ass, so I chucked it.


• * Full size lipgloss from Maybelline


• * A box from the Happily Handmade Giveaway. Over $200 in hand crafted jewellery, bags, and cosmetics. 2/3 of which were things that I liked. I attempted to hoist the rest off on my co-workers.


• * Balance Necklace made from a Chinese coin by Valentina Design


• * Perfume from The Body Perfumery, one of my favourite scent suppliers, in my favourite scent Amour de Cacao (okay, it's a duplication scent, but smells just like the real thing).
  
• * Full size eyeshadow from Quo Cosmetics.

And my favourite, so far, that just arrived today:

• * IPod Nano (only 1G, and white, but free!) and speaker dock.

The Nano is making me think of all of the things that I can buy for it. For instance, I've been coveting the Nike +IPod Sport Kit, but never purchased because it wouldn't work with my Mini. But now, Nano! And to go with that, I'd pair it with the matching Nike armband, and the Marware Sportsuit Sensor so I could use it with my New Balance shoes, beacuse Nike? Yeah, they don't make shoes that fit my midget feet.

Of course, since it's winter, and I am too much of a delicate flower to actually run in the cold and the snow, those can wait, but I do very much like thinking about them. In the meantime, I will wear my Mini on my arm and workout indoors. And I will think. And think. And eventually buy.

Talking about buying, the lovely Spoken dress arrived at my house as well today. And it's too big. Bah! Since I had ordered the smallest size, back it goes, in exchange for either a skirt or a shirt from a completely different designer. Eve Gravel, I am hoping that your sizing is more realistic!

I Am Not Lindsay Lohan.

I swear to God, I'm not. But I will tell you that this morning, I was rear ended again. Yes, twice in two months.

I'm fine. My car is fine. I'm mad. My car? Still serene.

Here's the lowdown (Lohan-down?): I was stopped at a red light, waiting for a break in traffic to make a right hand turn. While waiting for a spot to open up, the driver in the car behind me apparently didn't realize that there was a car in front of his, and drove into my rear end.

I am starting to think that my car might be crazy magical like Wonder Woman's invisible plane.

Anyway, the driver follows me as I turn into a nearby parking lot. He gets out of his car, apologizes, and then says, "I was looking the same way you were".

Apparently, that's supposed to explain everything.

I made him give me his insurance and contact details, and continued on to work.

Thankfully, there wasn't a scratch on the outside of my baby, and my mechanic didn't find any damage underneath.

So, yeah. Car accident post #2. I wonder, if I was Lohan, would I finally get my ass a driver, our would I continue to insist on driving myself, even though the world is trying to tell me not to.

Oh, Man. David Suzuki Shirt!

Dude! Available via the CBC Shop.

They Move Intersections, Don't They?

The answer to this question is "Yes". And, because it's an entirely possible thing to do, if you have the will and the right equipment, for the past week or so, my drive into work has come to resemble a game of Frogger.

Lanes appearing out of nowhere! And ending without any notice! Cars popping in and out, trying to drive down the road!

I feel like the city should be giving me stunt pay.

Sometimes, while attempting to cross that newly moved intersection, I wonder about just how pissed of the gas station and strip mall that used to be located at the corner of the old intersection must be. And if they're being compensated for having to give up prime real estate positions.

And then I shake my fist at the latest person to cut me off, and drive on.

Everybody Needs a TV Boyfriend

And I've finally settled on mine for the Fall 2006 TV season.

Heroes is an excellent show. Sendhil Ramamurthy speaks with an excellent faux-English accent, and, well, looks like he does.

Who really needs anything more?

Coveting, Sometimes, Takes Control

I ordered the dress.

I can't wait for it to arrive.

That is all.

Sometimes, It's A Little Thing That Reminds You About Beauty

Today, it is both the colour and the sleeves on this dress.

Spanish Rapunzel Dress by Spoken, available at Mudshark.

I Gots Me A Big Bag Full Of Pills. Also, Bespoke

So a big bag, full of pills, is currently sitting in the middle of my bed. Not because I am a drug dealer. And not because I have me a nasty habit. I've got a big old bag of pills because I am (a) forgetful, (b) lazy, (c) and cheap, even if I'm spending other peoples' money.

Yesterday, I had the always uncomfortable yearly physical, and grabbed my 13 month repeat prescription for Marvelon, an excellent low-dose birth control pill. And I trekked on over my pharmacy, where I asked for the complete prescription all at once.

I figure the following:

• Even though I have an excellent drug plan through my place of employment, I hate the thought of anyone paying unnecessary dispensing fees. That was the cheap.
• 
  
• If I have my complete prescription for the period (ha!) between one annual examination and the next, I won't have to remember to drop off the script and pick up a new package every month, and I won't have to get my ass in gear to remember to not forget. That was the forgetful and lazy part.

So, yeah, bag full of birth control. PAR-TAY.

***

Bespoke THIS!

I have a new favourite word. And, as it is when you have a new favourite anything, I keep seeing it used by other people. I figure it's because I keep reading fancy-pants UK based fashion blogs, but the term bespoke just hits me as lovely and fun to say.

If I had a bargazillion dollars, I would have scads of clothing that were bespoke in nature. I think I would enjoy sitting for measurements, and attending fittings to try on things to make sure my unique and particular pattern is exactly how it should be. And I know I would love wearing handmade items made to fit only me.

Because I am selfish that way.

What I like even more, I think, is the extension of the word into non-clothing business areas. Bastardization of the term, yes, but still...bespoke chocolate? Don't mind if I do. Bespoke linens? I would very much like to sleep underneath you.

I love new words. Especially unexpectedly lovely ones. And so I share this one with you. Enjoy.

Wake Up, You Filthy Monkey

Most of the time, the best bits of major Hollywood studio animated films are the bit players. While most people have fallen for the penguins in Madagascar, for me, Mason and Phil, the chimpanzees, make this movie worth watching.

Why?

Check it:

Mason, to Phil: I hear Tom Wolfe's speaking at Lincoln Centre.
[Phil signs frantically]
Mason: Well, of course we're going to fling poo at him!

Putting A Price On Your Time

I have. I do. Today, my time was worth $15.

Say what you will about Government run programs and their relationship with efficiency, Passport Canada's network of Canada Post Receiving Agents is a stroke of genius.

I would gladly pay $15 and wait five extra business days to receive my wee book 'o travel then spend hours in line amoungst the surly masses. Because if someone is going to be surly, it should only be me, and I should be alone to revel in it.

I Need A Passport To Do What Now?

Get into the United States, starting in January, it seems.

But only when arriving by plane. Land travel is apparently different. Which makes no sense at all, but whatever on them.

My corporate holiday celebrating slacker self took part of this morning to get my ass photos taken for said passport.

You will never see them.

The thing with having a passport is this: all of a sudden, random, crazy trips to places like Bermuda and the UK and Australia start to seem like a much easier thing to do.

And that's bad. Indeed, it is.

Gorilla Cookies!

I will confess to loving really down and out horrible reality television shows. Loving. Them. Which is why I whooted like a goon when I found out that MuchMoreMusic had finally gotten around to putting MTV's Flavor of Love 2 on the air.




Yes, the show is over and done with, and I know who he chose. Yes, Flav has announced that he's having his 7th child with a woman who didn't appear on the show. But, the thing is, the drama? The craziness? Somethin' shitting on the stairs while everyone was in the foyer? IT'S STILL BRILLIANTLY AWFUL TV.

And I won't miss an episode.

Also, Flav quoting Sanford and Son in a People interview? Best. Thing. Ever.

How Not to Build a Community, and Meme This!

I recently joined a community hosted by a start-up online, blog-style publishing company, paid, in part, by ad revenues, and now, I suspect, per-article on the subjects that they write about.

Last night, following making a comment on one of the articles, I received an email from the site stating that I was in opposition to their terms of use. My crime? Including a link to this blog in my signature, as it "solicits other websites" and is "unauthorized advertising".

Seriously? Yes, seriously.

They continued on in their desist message by stating they've up and erased my signature at the account level, and that they would let me continue to post on their site as long as I didn't post links to other places.

I responded that I found their terms and conditions to be completely unacceptable and directed them to delete my account completely.

It makes me wonder - what is next for them? Deleting comment posts that disagree with the original article?

Having been a member of various online communities for over a decade, it becomes amazingly obvious when marketers who have never had an experience within the type of community they're trying to cash in on decide to start something up. And it chaps my ass. And makes me shake my head at their complete lack of forethought regarding creating and maintaining a sustainable community.


***
150 Things I Might Have Done

Really, much less then 150. Wanna play along? Copy this to your blog and bold the things you've done.

Idea stolen from RevisionSpiral.

1. Bought everyone in the bar a drink

2. Swam with wild dolphins

3. Climbed a mountain

4. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive

5. Been inside the Great Pyramid

6. Held a tarantula

7. Taken a candlelit bath with someone

8. Said "I love you" and meant it

9. Hugged a tree

10. Bungee jumped

11. Visited Paris

12. Watched a lightning storm at sea - from the shore

13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise

14. Seen the Northern Lights

15. Gone to a huge sports game

16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa

17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables

18. Touched an iceberg

19. Slept under the stars

20. Changed a baby's diaper

21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon

22. Watched a meteor shower

23. Gotten drunk on champagne

24. Given more than you can afford to charity

25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope

26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment

27. Had a food fight

28. Bet on a winning horse

29. Asked out a stranger

30. Had a snowball fight

31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can

32. Held a lamb

33. Seen a total eclipse

34. Ridden a roller coaster

35. Hit a home run

36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking

37. Adopted an accent for an entire day

38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment

39. Had two hard drives for your computer

40. Visited all 50 states

41. Taken care of someone who was drunk

42. Had amazing friends

43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country

44. Watched wild whales

45. Stolen a sign

46. Backpacked in Europe

47. Taken a road-trip

48. Gone rock climbing

49. Midnight walk on the beach

50. Gone sky diving

51. Visited Ireland

52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love

53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them

54. Visited Japan

55. Milked a cow

56. Alphabetized your CDs

57. Pretended to be a superhero

58. Sung karaoke

59. Lounged around in bed all day

60. Played touch football

61. Gone scuba diving

62. Kissed in the rain

63. Played in the mud

64. Played in the rain

65. Gone to a drive-in theater

66. Visited the Great Wall of China

67. Started a business

68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken

69. Toured ancient sites

70. Taken a martial arts class

71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight

72. Gotten married

73. Been in a movie

74. Crashed a party

75. Gotten divorced

76. Gone without food for 5 days

77. Made cookies from scratch

78. Won first prize in a costume contest

79. Ridden a gondola in Venice

80. Gotten a tattoo

81. Rafted the Snake River

82. Been on television news programs as an "expert"

83. Got flowers for no reason

84. Performed on stage

85. Been to Las Vegas

86. Recorded music

87. Eaten shark

88. Kissed on the first date

89. Gone to Thailand

90. Bought a house

91. Been in a combat zone

92. Buried one/both of your parents

93. Been on a cruise ship

94. Spoken more than one language fluently well enough to have a decent conversation

95. Performed in Rocky Horror

96. Raised children

97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour

99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country

100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over

101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge

102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking

103. Had plastic surgery

104. Survived an accident that you shouldn't have survived

105. Wrote articles for a large publication

106. Lost over 100 pounds

107. Held someone while they were having a flashback

108. Piloted an airplane

109. Touched a stingray

110. Broken someone's heart

111. Helped an animal give birth

112. Won money on a T.V. game show

113. Broken a bone

114. Gone on an African photo safari

115. Had a facial part pierced other than your ears

116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol

117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild

118. Ridden a horse

119. Had major surgery

120. Had a snake as a pet

121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon

122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours

123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states

124. Visited all 7 continents

125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days

126. Eaten kangaroo meat

127. Eaten sushi

128. Had your picture in the newspaper

129. Changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about

130. Gone back to school

131. Parasailed

132. Touched a cockroach

133. Eaten fried green tomatoes

134. Read The Iliad

135. Selected one "important" author who you missed in school, and read

136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating

137. Skipped all your school reunions

138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language

139. Been elected to public office

140. Written your own computer language

141. Thought to yourself that you're living your dream

142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care

143. Built your own PC from parts

144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn't know you

145. Had a booth at a street fair

146. Dyed your hair

147. Been a DJ

148. Shaved your head

149. Caused a car accident

150. Saved someone’s life

There Is A Fire In My Belly. Cause By Ire.

This week I have heard the following terms used on internationally broadcast news shows:

• Co-ed
• Mixed company

Who knew we still lived in a world where women are (a) an oddity at institutes of higher learning, or (b) are so delicate of mental and emotional constitution that certain things can't be mentioned in front of them?

Seriously, which one of you knew? Because, with information like that, you really should share. Because I'm now questioning every life decision I ever made?

Oh, wait, no...what I'm questioning is if I'll ever watch the idiots who used such terms ever again.

I'll let you in on a secret: the answer is no.

Food Photography is an Amazing Art

It's one thing to make a beautiful, edible dish. It's another thing completely to capture that beauty on film.

Here are a couple of my favourite images that I've stumbled across in the past couple of weeks.

Vosages Wink of the Rabbit Caramel

Opera Cake from Dessert First

25 Piece Blue & Brown Collection from MarieBelle New York

Unleashing the Inner 12-Year-Old Boy

They poop candy. I mean, c'mon!




Also, talking about Christmas: confidential to the family, I know two of you are taking off on Friday. That gives you two days to let me know what you want!

An Open Letter to Britney Spears

Dear Britney,

We should've known something was up when you appeared on Letterman last night, looking put together and in control. It's been years since we've seen you like that. Years.

But, you know, if you really wanted kids, you didn't need to actually marry that loser. But, better late then never.

Why do I care? Because your divorce pretty much guarantees that Federline will fade back into the obscurity that he came from. And I thank you for that. But I still don't forgive you for throwing him into the spotlight to begin with.

I Love Toast

Not bread, toast. Does that make me crazy? Because, seriously, there is nothing in the world better then a lovely, toasted piece of bread. The smell is so comforting, so enveloping, the scent of everything being right in the world.


The untoasted stuff? Yeah, don't even think of trying to sit down next to me, trying to get fresh in your freshness, limp bread-stuffs. Because I'll pop you one in the eye. If you had an eye.

My latest grainy love comes from Toronto's ACE Bakery. I have pledged my love to both their Organic Sliced Flax bread and their Organic Sliced Multigrain. ACE delivers daily to local grocery stores, so you know that every loaf, or baguette, or bun that you bring home had been baked that morning.

ACE has also finally given me a reason to covet (yes, sometimes you do need a reason to covet) this toaster from Hamilton-Beach's Eclectrics line:

Is it wrong that I think about accessorizing my foodstuffs?

Even if it is, I don't want to be right.

Bravo, I Love You

Bravo TV from the US of A, I mean. Bravo! Canada? Yeah, not so much.

But anyway, I must tell you, Bravo, if you were a boy, I would date you. Let's talk about why:

• * TV shows like Project Runway and Top Chef
• * Awesome interactive elements on your website, like PR's Tim Gunn's Blogs and Podcasts, and Top Chef's blogs and step-by-step recipes from the episodes, as well as video examples of selected recipes
• * Encouraging Andy Cohen, Bravo's Vice President of Production and Programming, to blog about whatever the fuck he wants to talk about

You give me so much. So make like Pinocchio, become a real boy, and take me out to dinner.

So You Know I'm Watching You, Right?

Seriously, for those that know me personally, you know I'm a geek, and you have to know that I have metric software incorporated into this blog.

Some of the search terms that lead people here are pretty awesome. "Naked Monkey Toilet" is my current favourite.

But if you connect to the Interwebs from a city that I used to work in, and arrive at my blog by using both my first and last name in a Google search, and then don't say anything? You freak me out.

That is all.

PS: New Colour For Blog Because WINTER

She is a-coming.

The end.

Art Crush, Revisited

Crushes come and go, and I've moved on, and on again, to a new love. Credit to red.house for the introduction. I feel like this is a CYO dance, and a friend of a friend brought their 2nd cousin with them, and now we're slow dancing to a glam metal power ballad.

Anyway, I give to you the papercut work of Peter Callesen.

If I Was A Chef, And If I Worked With Meat

I would totally plate my dishes like this:



Because I am an asshole and like to shout things like, "THOSE DEAD CRABS ARE TOTALLY DOING IT ON THAT PLATE!"

Dia de los Muertos

I haven't enjoyed Halloween for years. I'm not a fan of drinking until pukefaced while adorned in an ackward costume. I'm also not a fan of the "sexy" occupation costumes that most women these days seem to think are the be all and end of celebrating the holiday. Unless it's a sexy garbage collector. Because that? That is hot.

That being said, I think the Mexico's Day of the Dead is a completely different animal that I would very much enjoy. And I do hope that my own big brother, who is in Mexico on business this week, will take the time to head out into the streets to experience it for himself.

And that he'll take pictures.

And that he'll bring me back a skeletal present.

Because it's all about me.

MEMEME.

Day of the Dead Horseman Mosiac by Martin Cheek

Hell Has Frozen Over. Something Made Me Like Posh Spice.

Ms. Beckham being interviewed by two wee lads. No longer robot! Who knew she was capable of more then pouting and pointing?

Video from YouTube.

Is That A Nail In Your Tire, Or Are You...

Oh, right. It is a nail.

This morning, I came out of a meeting to see my phone's voicemail light flashing, accusingly, at me. When I finally got around to listening to the message - I am convinced that people only leave messages when they have something bad to tell me - I was left with the task of figuring out how to deal with the fact that my car, who had left my garage with four lovely and inflated tires, had somehow become crippled and was now listing to one side.

Lorne (my boss), and Fabian, Stefan and John, (in charge of all things facility related at my office) (insert "How many people does it take to change a tire?" joke here) (and "How many parenthetical asides does this sentence need?" joke here), helped me take off it's floppy, deflated shoe, and put on the donut that I had in my truck.

The tire? Had a big old nail stuck in it.

The donut? Yeah, it was flat too.

Lorne and I piled, with tire, into his car to get it all a-patched up. Which took 2.5 hours. By the time I shanghaied Fabian and John to take me back to pick it up and slap it back onto my car, it was time to run home and deflate myself. But not before stopping to pick up hilarious, and possibly horrible tasting, Halloween themed cookies to give the boys tomorrow morning as thanks for their above the call of duty help.

I don't know how many times I can say this, but the people I work with are #1 Awesome.

The end.

Missing: One Sweet Tooth

For the past few years, I've pretty much revamped my mode o' eating, cutting out the masses of prepaired and highly processed foods that I used to live on (aside: I really believe that the chemical preservatives that I used to down with abandon have severely slowed down my own aging process. Really). In return, my palate has become more sensitive, and it allows me to actually taste the food that I eat. And until you make a major eating-style change like that, you really can't understand what that's like, but trust me, when I say taste, I really mean taste. Flavours explode. And sometimes overwhelm. Which brings me to last week.

I used to adore super-sweet things, and milk chocolate was my favourite type of snack. I avoided dark chocolate assiduously, as I found it far to bitter to enjoy.

These days, I adore dark chocolate and can't stand it's milky sister because all I can taste when I bite into it is sugar and milk fats, and nothing of the cocoa bean at all.

I bring this up because last week I gots me some Nutella, remembering how I loved to eat it directly from a spoon, and on top of things like ice cream. I loaded up a spoon, turned it over and, in turn, loaded up my taste buds. And pretty much gagged. Sugar - check. Milk - check. Fake vanilla - check. Where was the cocoa? Where were the hazelnuts? Overpowered by everything else, they were! And it made me sad. And it made me start to plot, and consider just what I would need to make my own, less sweet, less fake version of the spread. And then I pondered that since I already make an organic dark chocolate cinnamon peanut butter, how easy a cobbling a Nutella-like spread together would be.

Kitchen experiment ahead!