I Know It Is Summer Because I Made Ice Cream This Morning

In celebration of a corporate holiday - long story, short: head office is in Calgary, where it is Stampede, and the city is off stampeding, so everyone else gets the day off too - I made my first ice cream of the season this morning.

Improving on past attempts, rejigging the recipe and time spent in the machine a wee bit, I made my best version of Cheesecake Ice Cream ever. And yes, co-working readers, I will be bringing it in on Monday.

I wonder if broncos like ice cream?

***

Also, I need to stop thinking I can guess what the world will do when given a choice. Because my Rock Star: Supernova prediction? NOT EVEN CLOSE.

Rock Star: Supernova, You Did Not Disappoint!

Ladies who want to be Janis Joplin, men who just want to be. Excellent. Especially when you realize that a number of the songs sung by Rock Star contestants were tackled by Canadian Idol contestants just last week, where the rock? It does not make itself at home.

Here is my prediction for tonight's show:

Bottom three performers

• Magni - horrible stage presence. Had a passable singing voice until he started to verge on Icelandic Black Metal shouting. Then he'd remember that he's auditioning for a rock band and would sing a little, and then forget and start shouting for the devil - not at the devil, mind you, which would have been rock, but for and about. I started to wonder when the druids and horned effigies would appear onstage.
  
• Zayra - modelesque in stature, stinky with the singing voice. Off-key for most of her song, and lacked any power behind her vocals. Also, I fear she is just too edgy for the Rock Star watching and voting demographic.
  
• Chris - oh, man. Worst performance of the night. Possibly because it was so sincere. If anyone wanted to out themselves as a super-limited vocalist, that was the performance to do it with. So maybe he succeeded?
  

Who will be sent home

• Zayra. She's too alt-rock for a hard rock band. And Gilby already expressed in the first episode (which I think was only on the web in the US) that he doesn't get her.

I will confess to watching 2.5 hours of Rock Star TV last night, and DVRing the models for viewing today. What has happened to me?

I Am All A-Quiver With Reality TV Anticipation

I think this week, it shall make me explode. The models! Rock Star (sans spectre of death)! Big Brother All Stars! Holy crap.

Also, I may have just grabbed wee bottles of liquid paper in both fist and shook my arms, like they were a-quiver, to demonstrate my anticipation to Kate. Who is currently sitting not four feet away from me. They made for a lovely sound effect, approximating the way my insides feel at the though of what delusional people will do for cash on camera.

That might make me a horrible person. I'm okay with that.

Update: Rock Star: Supernova's first episode is web-only. And not Firefox friendly. So fire up IE and head on over to watch it.

I So Famous

Indeed, indeed. Today's Constant Shopper column in the Toronto Star makes mention of yours truly, and my Online Shopping in Canada Squidoo lens.

That is all.

How I Know I'm An Adult

Don't get me wrong, my inner 12-year-old boy is still alive and well and kicking up a storm, but he lives deeper inside my head, and shares space with the 32-year-old woman. And a monkey of indeterminate age and sex.

Anyway, I reckon I'm an adult for the following reason: not only do I care about small kitchen appliances, I'm making an effort to replace parental hand-me-downs and less-expensive first apartment gifts with impressive, pretty and HOLY CRAP POWERFUL well known name brand doohickeys.

Today, joining my food processor and ice cream maker in my kitchen starting line-up, is this lovely hand mixing fellow, the Kitchenaid Artisan Series Hand Mixer. Look how sleek and sophisticated he is, with his black tuxedo-like outfit. I think he'll fit right in.

Scouting continues for a new stick blender and coffee grinder. Updates to follow in the coming months.

Revisiting A Band Crush

Do you know what the best thing about the movie The Wedding Crashers is? The delighted flutter I got in my gut when I heard the frenzied guitar opening to the first song played over the closing credits. I may have also clapped my hands together like a 3-year-old when the opening strains of Aside by The Weakerthans began.

I swear, The Weakerthans are everything that I crush on about anything. Beautiful and smart and oddbally sweet.

The first time I heard Left and Leaving, I was struck by how familiar it sounded - not because I had heard anything like it before, but because it sounded like me. Like what I wish the soundtrack of my life would play like. And for that reason alone, it will always sit, highly, on my top ten records of all time. That's right - ALL TIME.

There aren't many bands that can pen a line like "Circumnavigate this body of wonder and uncertainty. Armed with every previous failure, and amateur cartography" and make me sing along and shake my ass like a flat-out goon. And I'm so, so glad that they can. And they do. And I will love them forever for it.

Linka-linka
The Weakerthans official site
The Weakerthans MySpace page

It Was Like That Banana Peel Sight-Gag

But without the tripping. And without the funny. So it was absolutely nothing like that banana peel sight-gag, but it was most definitely the first thing that popped into my head when it happened.

This morning, on the final leg of my bike ride, I was peddling home down a four lane street in the dedicated bicycle lane. A beat-up white jalopy, sunroof open to the lurvley day, sped by me. A split second later, a banana peel, emerging from the sunroof, came sailing through the sky and landed with a banana-peel-like plop right in the path of my front wheel. So I swerve, think about John Cleese pratfalls, and feel the anger start to bubble. Because, (a) litter! And (b) right in my path!

"Jesus FUCK!" and my middle finger got a ferocious workout.

The fuming, she then began, and the peddling, she then became more furious, as I saw the car come to a stop at a set of traffic lights a kilometer in front of me. With visions of fist shaking and accusations of assholery blooming in my head, I managed to cut the distance between us in half before a green light let the car peel away and leave me in the dust.

So I went home. And ate a banana. And threw my peel in the garbage.

Well, There's A Reason Why It Was Harder Then Expected

Because those boxes of tiles were mis-labeled. 6 of them actually weighed 40 lbs a piece, and the other 6 weighed 50 lbs a piece.

I will not confess to putting those boxes on my bathroom scale just so I could see what they really weighed. I WILL NOT CONFESS.

Well, THAT Was Harder Then I Thought It Would Be

The tiles that I ordered for my bathroom renovation project arrived at the store this week, and I went and picked them up this morning. All 12 boxes of them. All 12 25lbs boxes of them.

And even though I am strong, like Godzilla, hefting those suckers 100 meters from garage to front door and up a flight of stairs? Hard. Harder then I thought it was going to be (see: Godzilla-strong reason above). By the end, I was a sweaty beast. And gave up on the first floor of my place, even though they have another flight of stairs to go.

Does that make me a pansy?

How Not to Make a Sale

1) Work door-to-door.

2) Start your spiel for the utility that employs you, and is in competition with the one that I have a contract with, by looking surprised when the person who tells you they take care of the utility payments tells you that they're the person with the cash in the house - you really wanted to ask for my parents, didn't you?

3) Continue your sales pitch by insulting the person who pays those bills, through implying that they may be a deadbeat.

She: "I'm from Energy Savings Utility company. Don't worry! I'm not here to get you!"
Me: "Well, no, you wouldn't be. That would be preposterous for so many reasons."

4) Continue on by lying.

She: "I'm just checking in with you to make sure that you've signed up..."
Me: "I'm not interested, thanks."
She: "Oh, I'm not selling you anything, I just want to make sure you've signed up for..."
Me: "I'm...not...interested," starting to close the door, "thanks"

And she continues to talk, and talk and talk as I shut the door in her face.

Listen, I know working door to door is a tough job, but, like telemarketers, if I tell you I'm not interested, and I'm polite the first time, insisting that I don't know my own mind by continuing to try to sell to me will get you a firm, and still polite, shut down and click, be it from a door or handset.

Canadian Idol Freaks Me Out

Which is probably why I can only watch one or two episodes a season until I have to run away, hands covering my horrified eyes.

This year's freakout is centered around this young man, 16-year-old Craig "Craigee" Sharpe.









While watching his first live performance last night, I was struck by how every hobbit-like he looked. And then I was struck by the fact that the young man sounded like a very not-manly Christina Aguilera when singing. And talking. Except a Christina Aguilera with a Newfoundland accent. Oh, Frodo Aguilera, look what you're doing to my poor, crazy brain!

And then I realized that I'm just way too old to be so very fascinated at the possible, and only in my head, probabilty of emerging Middlesex reality-tv drama on CTV. But not really, because I'm still thinking about it, far too intently, in fact.

Whoops?

I Very Much Wish...

...for a graphic desinger to magic me up a logo so I can get my ass some customized stationary.

...that having customized stationary would make me write more so I could send note cards (oh, note cards, I love you!) or letters.

...that more stationary designers in Canada would set up webshops, dammit!

...for cherry season to never end.

...that none of the sad-sack horrors (Cowboy, I'm looking at you!) make it on to Big Brother 7: All Stars. PS: I am delighted at the possibility of Will (Metal. Not metal.) being back on TV. Funniest reality TV "villian" ever.

...that the Canadian casting episode for Rockstar: Supernova hadn't been so goddamn hilarious that I'll have to watch the series when it starts up for real this summer. And that bitter, bitter Trevor from SoulDecision hadn't seen the light and dropped out of the pre-competition before being given the boot. Kinda faded is right, young man.

...that I didn't watch so much TV.

See Zombie. See Zombie Use Computer. Type, Zombie, Type!

I think the thing I hate most of all about business travelling is the vacation that my body needs from the flying and the time changes and the crazy-busy days jam packed with meetings.

Okay, that's not true. The thing I hate most about business travelling, and air flight in general, is the state of airplane toilets, and how you can do nothing about what happens in those wee little cubicles before you get in there. And how people standing in line behind you get the idea that YOU'RE the dirty beast, not the person who came before you and inappropriately let loose in that confined space. You know what I'm talking about - don't tell me you don't!

So anyway, I arrived back home yesterday, and the tomato plants? Still. Not. Dead. I am beginning to wonder if there is anything that I can do that will cause them to whither away and die. Nuclear debris? Throwing them off the balcony? I reckon not. In fact, I reckon they, like Superman, are MADE OF STEEL. I wonder if they can fly around the world backwards and turn back time, just so I will know when to and not dash to the bathroom on that plane back home.

PS: Canada's Next Top Model made me laugh like a madwoman last night. But I can't seem to remember why (see reasons why I hate travelling, above). Let me marshall my thoughts for a bit, and we'll see what falls out of my head.

Sometimes I Feel Like I Know Everyone In The World

Case in point: this morning, I recieved an email from a friend that I made when I lived in Australia a bargazillion years ago. She's a bass player, and manages the career of the woman who's band she plays in. She wanted to know if I had ever heard about a Toronto-based label that was interested in putting out their latest record.

That label? Part owned by one of my oldest friends in the world.

My Australian friend and my record label friend? Had no idea that I knew either one.

The end.

Sometimes Airflight Can Be Awesome

On my flight to Calgary yesterday, a woman sitting in the row in front of me was wearing a hat. Not just any hat, but a hat that would make Blossom proud. Made of felt? Turned up brim all the way around? Bedazzled with mutlicoloured rhinestones? Check. Check. CHECK.

Also, apparently, the crazy old man with the greasey Brillcreamed man-dyed hair that insisted on wandering about and making people join him in conversation was Walter Gretzkey, Wayne's dad. Who knew? Apparently hockey fans who raised a fuss and the flight attendants who wished him a Happy Father's Day.

The end.

RSS Rollcall

The best way I know to read blogs and news sources is via a feedreader (PS: Bloglines is an excellent free feedreader). It's like a big box store for words. Awesome. Other then the kids listed in my link panel to the right, here's who I have my feedreader picking up:


Entertainment / Gossip

• A Socialite's Life
  
• The Bastardly
• BBC News - Entertainment
• Digital Spy
• Fitted Sweats
• Globe and Mail - Arts
• MSNBC - Entertainment
• New York Daily News - Entertainment
• New York Post - Gossip
• New York - Times Arts
• People
• Perez Hilton
• Toronto Star - Arts and Entertainment
• TMZ
• Villiage Voice - NYC Life

Fashion / Shopping / Design

• A Dress a Day
• Delight - The Cult of Shopping
• Design*Sponge
• New York Times - Fashion and Style
• Toronto Star - The Constant Shopper
• Toronto Star - Fashion

Food

• Candy Addict
• Candy Blog
• Cheap Eats Toronto
• Toronto Star - Food
• The Unemployed Cook

Health

• New York Times - Health
• Washington Post - Health

News

• 640 AM Toronto
• Reuters
• Toronto Star

Technology / Gadgets

• BBC News - Technology
• Chip Chick
• Cool Gizmo
• Gadget Candy
• Globe and Mail - Technology
• New York Times - Technology
• Techie Diva Guide to Gadgets
• UIE - Brain Sparks
• Washington Post - Technology

IPod Meme and a Picture for Roro

I am lazy and figure the plethora of postings yesterday gives me room to regurgitate one of these suckers.

But first, a picture for Roro and her 87% True Project:













That's beer down the front of that bear's neck, it is. Heinken, if I remember correctly.



And now the meme. Here's how it works:

1. Put your iPod on shuffle.
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the the question.

How am I feeling today?
6 Undergroud, The Sneakerpimps

Will I get far in life?
Bringin' on the Heartache, Def Leppard

How do my friends see me?
I've Done Everything for You, Rick Springfield

When will I get married?
If I Could, Juliana Hatfield

What is my best friend's theme song?
I Can't Wait, Brassy

What is the story of my life?
Live it Out, Metric

What was high school like?
The Chorus is Suffering, Art of Fighting

How am I going to get ahead in life?
(Past-Due), The Weakerthans

What is the best thing about me?
High and Dry, Radiohead

How is today going to be?
What's Wrong, Reggie and the Full Effect

What is in store for this weekend?
Mountain of a Heart, Chamberlain

What song describes my parents?
Jesus Hairdo, Charlatans UK

What song describes your grandparents?
You're No Rock 'n' Roll Fun, Sleater-Kinney

How is my life going?
You Would Know, Queens of the Stone Age

What song will they play at my funeral?
Israel's Song, Built to Spill

How does the world see me?
The Dream is Over, International Noise Conspiracy

Will I have a happy life?
Celebrte Youth, Rick Springfield

What do my friends really think of me?
Robot City, Some Girls

Do people secretly lust after me?
Wave Beat, The Volcanos

How can I make myself happy?
Walk Like a Man, Rick Springfield

What should I do with my life?
Don't Cry, Jackalope

Will I ever have children?
Selfish, N'Sync

What is some good advice for me?
Groove is in the Heart, Deee-Lite

What is my signature dancing song?
For Once in Your Life, The Jealous Sound

What do I think my current theme song is?
I See You, Juliana Hatfield

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
Bingo, MIA

What type of men/women do you like?
Skin Receiver, Auf der Maur

What kind of kisser are you?
Rider, Juliana Hatfield

What's your style?
An-Deluzion, Mary Timony

What kind of lover are you?
Chewing Gum, Annie

What would be playing on a first date?
It's Alive, Unbusted

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
The Jitters, Dismemberment Plan

Hail Seitan!

I love kitchen experiements (see: Tortillas, Yogurt, Peanut Butter). So I decided that I wanted to make seitan - otherwise known as wheat meat.

So I did.

So take a look.

Seasoned high gluten dough:












After resting, pieces are pulled out and wrapped around themselves:












And plopped into simmering vegetable stock, like dumplings:












After an hour, they're done! And sliced, and chopped. Unlike tofu, seitan has a firm, meaty texture:




















But it's all wheat, baby!

CNTM - Episode #3 - In One Day, You Brought Us from heinous Disaster to Alright

Just a short highlight of awesome today - I don't reckon the play-by-play style is getting much love, and it takes a massive amount of time to write (badly).

• In the previous episode recap at the top of the show, Tricia makes use of the ANTM trademark description "fierce". Hot damn! Or should I say, "fierce"?
• Returning home, the first thing Andrea does is shave the hair from her arms.
• In confessional, Sisi talks shit about everyone and vows revenge. Like a prize fighter! Later on, she calls the rest of the girls stupid, fake and lame. Oh, pot. See kettle. You are both black.
  
• Judge Stacy, she of the manly smoker voice, teaches the girls how to walk at bowling alley. The look of disgust on her face at what she has to work with is LOVELY. Almost as good as her impression of each girl's individual walks. And that woman? Damn, can she walk on a runway.
• Andrea starts her first in a series of crying jags when she realizes just how outclassed she is. And seriously, the fact that she can be outclassed by the other competitors? Sad, sad, sad.
• The runway competition is in the middle of a rugby field. In front of rugby players. Now THAT'S high fashion! Or just low rent.
  
• Brandi wins the runway competition. Her prize? The use of a secret bathroom in the house. And a pedicure. Worst. Prize. Ever. But Andrea? Is jealous and runs away to cry. Brandi proceeds to get sloppily, tearily, running nose-ingly drunk, and it's the most amazing drunkfest I've ever seen on television. It was capped off by a teary confessional following a teary phone call to her boyfriend where, talking through her nose and sounding like a five year old (a drunk five year old!) she complains about breaking her IPod by accidentally, drunkenly allowing it to fall in the jacuzzi.
• The photo shoot is helmed by Philip Bloch, the most annoying celebrity stylist I have ever done seen. But the thing is, his honesty, frustration and disgust with the "models" he has to work with? Made me like him. Made me even overlook the icky, pencil thin signature moustache (signature mustache!) he has cultivated.
  
• During judging, Andrea starts crying again. Oh, man.
• Natalie gets the boot. Which was expected, due to her height (6') and larger, more solid frame, but it makes me a little sad. The editors focused on Natalie this show, and she came across like a very intelligent, level headed woman. Okay, perhaps an intelligent, level headed woman built like Natalie would know that there was no way in hell that she could ever be a high fashion model, but still. I liked her, and she was far more interesting then the vapid women that remain on the show.
• Next week: A trainer makes the girls exercise, the girls pose in lingerie with male models, and Ylena has to make a moral decision about the shoot.
  

A Plague of Squirrels Upon Your House!

While leaving my house for work this morning, I opened my door to the strangest scene I have ever beheld with my own eyes.

From the trees in the ravine that my building backs onto, and the trees lining the walkway from my door to the building that houses my garage, poured a veritable waterfall of brown and grey and black squirrels.

All a-chitter, making a noise I can only describe as what a rabbit pretending to be a pig would sound like, they scurried down tree trunks, burst into a full run when they hit the ground, then skidded to a stop, and sat back on their haunches, peering into the sky. Still oinking like rabbits (pretending to be pigs), they would then dash off across the compound in the opposite direction from where they came.

I stood in my doorway, eyes even wider then usual, watching the craziness on the lawn in front of me. When 20 or so had passed, and the herd of stampeding squirrels seemed to be thinning out, I took a chance and started to walk gingerly to the garage eyes darting all about, ready to throw myself out of the way of any agitated fur face who might just get the idea that I'd be a nice obsticle to tree themselves in as they attempt to alude whatever Stephen King-like preditor that is now lurking in the woods outside my house.

If you don't hear from me again, take that as a sign that the monster that is now making it's home outside my home has eaten me alive. I hope I went quickly, and gave it a good punch to the throat.

PS: CNTM Episode #3 recap to come later on today.

I Claim this Land in the Name of Spain!

The wee plot of flowerbed land outside my front door has been annexed by my downstairs neighbours.

Background - I'm in a stacked condo. It's a three story building, and mine are the upper two. I have a private entrance on the ground level that opens to a stairway that brings you up to my unit. The end.

Anyway, before I moved in, the previous owners dug up a mess of wee trees and flowers, leaving behind only three or four green bushes. And, having a black thumb, I can only identify one as a hosta - the others? Not a clue. But really, I liked it that way. I'm not at all a flower person, as the scent tends to cause small imaginary hammers to pound on my brain. As well, flowers bring flying bugs, and around an entryway, I wish for bugs to be scarce.

This spring, I had planned on purchasing a couple more hostas to fill in some of the blank spaces in the bed. Until I came home a week and a half ago and found that my downstairs neighbours had planted single pansies not only in the bed in front of their bay window, but in the bed alongside my door.

On one hand, I thought, "Cheeky bastards! And also, gah, flowers!", and on the other, "Oh, look what I don't have to deal with anymore!"

My ass? It is lazy. Lazy, indeed.

So far, I am leaning towards not being irritated - the bug situation is not too bad, as of today, and as long as they continue to garden that space, hey, more power to them.

Also, it lets me think the thought "Pansy ass!" whenever I leave and come back home.

I Confess!

1. I DVRd last night's premiere episode of How to Get the Guy.
2. I am watching it right now. And I am snickering. And thinking of how it's just a high budget TLC show.
3. I may very well be taking mental notes.

I have sunk to a new low.

I Stole a Haircut. And a Random Tomato Plant Picture.

You may remember from my Episode Two recap of Canada's Next Top Model that I admit to coveting Heather's haircut.

What I may not have told you was that I had set up an appointment with my stylist and colourist, erm, 8 weeks ago, for last Saturday.

And I may have brought in the following picture with me.

Tasha was lovely enough not to make fun of me for watching completely crap reality television. Possibly because she does not share the love for the crapulence that is modern-day TV.

In fact, she was excited that I wanted to halt the growing experiment that I had going on on top of my noggin, and whipped up an amazing science experiment of colour to compliment the cut.

She's a wiz, she is.

Anyway, I give to you the before and after. We did what we could with the shorter fringe that I was already sporting, but it's pretty close, I reckon. For the colour, she applied an excellent chocolate brown with auburn undertones to even out my base and fill in the peak-a-boo highlights she gave me the last time I had my colour done. And then? With the forward pushed curtain that serves as excellent long-ass bangs? She put a series of two-tone highlights in that bit - all golden and red and tigers and bears, oh my!

Right, I said "I give to you", didn't I? So let me get right on that.

Runway ready, indeed. Except the opposite of that. That being said, I very much love it, and it brings to 1 Bargazillion the number of hairstyles I have had during my 32 years on the planet.

The new forward motion of the fringe is excellent, even if it has forced me into becoming a hair flipper so I can see. The thing is? It kind of reminds me of the fetlock on a horse, which fulfills all kinds of childhood wishes for the future that I used to hold dear.

***

As promised, Day 9:

Welcome to the Grade 1 Science Experiment on my Deck

Day one:











Day four:











Day five:














Seriously. For those familiar with my black thumb, I am as astounded as you are. Also, how much do I love time-lapse photo essays? Far too much. More tomato pictures to come. You have been warned.

CNTM - Episode #2 - "I Was Thinking That My Brain Was Going to be Pulled Out"

This week's episode opens on the girls returning to the house post-elimination. A couple of the girls talk about how easy it is for them to maintain a model weight, while Natalie, who isn't blessed with a metabolism that runs like crazy, and who isn't willing, like Heather confessed last episode, to live only on rice cakes and water, wraps her body in saran wrap in order to sweat off water weight.

Saran wrap. Saran wrap! Like a 6 foot tall jockey, but without the horse riding at the end.

One thing that I really like about this show is that it keeps pointing out the reality of the modeling industry. Well, reality if you excuse the fantasy that any of these girls could ever model in anything other then a Sears catalogue or a Wal-Mart flyer. Both the girls and the judges and modeling agency representatives talk frankly about the difference between the body size, proportion and muscle tone needed to work in the fashion industry and what is considered beautiful outside of the business. All of the girls seem to be, at least, aware of the fact that models serve one purpose: to serve as moving, breathing clothes hangers. And the show makes no excuse about that.

Tricia seems to be playing a much bigger role in this version of the show - unlike Tyre's hands-off swoop-in-make-them-cry-run-away, Tricia appears and jumps in feet first, talking and showing and mentoring. And that starts as she greats the girls the next day, at a salon in the city, for their model make-overs. She, judge Paul Venoit, her personal stylist, Greg Wencel, Gino Garcia, whom Helfer refers to as a specially flown-in colour master, and a flotilla of hair stylists and colourists attack the girls in a frenzy of snipping and bottle squeezing - well, except for Brandi, who is deemed already perfect...except for that horrible personal style issue they, correctly, keep harping on.

Heather gets an amazing hair cut that I covet, and criescriescries because of it. Perhaps its because my hair grows like a cherry tomato plant, but the crazy attachment, and the equally crazy worry about how her boyfriend will react makes me wonder if she's at all prepared the rest of the show. But, you know, it's not a make-over episode unless one of the girls freaks her shit. And even better, this show gave us two!

Tricia and her stylist had planned to give gawky Andrea hair extensions, but, due to the horrible state of her hair (man, after seeing the girl punish it with a flat iron applied directly to dry hair without using a spray-protectent, they should've known), especially after a colour lift following a self impossed previous chemical fry-up, they had to hack and hack and hack the damage away. But you know what? She went from gawky 5-year old to a confident young woman. It's amazing what a stylist who knows their shit can do. But the tears! Oh, the tears. Her excitement at finally having long hair was replaced by horror at having to go even shorter then it was when she sat in that stylists' chair to crazy love with what she ended up with. Ah, to be so young and care so deeply. I sometimes long for those days.

Tenika plays the diva card, causing Greg, in a shit-talking aside to Paul that made me love them so damn much, to remark: "I've never worked with someone so irritating and demanding in my whole career, and I've seen a lot of irritating and demanding. Trust me". Paul also tells Andrea, point blank, that she needs to buy a fashion magazine and develop a sense of style because she's an absolute disaster. It was brilliant and made my general low-level irritation with him recede to previously unheard of levels.

At the end of things, the girls definitely look more downtown and less suburban mall, but, really, I think there is nothing that anyone can do to make any one of these girls look like a top model.

Back at the house, Andrea, in shades of Anne confessing her love to Eva on America's Next Top Model, dissolved in snotty tears as she tells Tenika of her sisterly love for her. She tells her how her feelings for her mom, who is her best friend, have been transferred onto Tenika. I am looking forward to a melt-down / high-noon showdown in future episodes.

This show's photo shoot's theme is Fight Club. Unfortunately, it did not involve soap being made from human fat, but I reckon that's just too much to ask.

The girls are dressed in the hoochiest swimsuits that I have ever, ever seen in my entire life. Tricia joins them in a boxing ring, and coaches them through poses and working expression and emotion into their faces. Watching them mimic Tricia is like watching wee ducklings, waddling about, mindlessly, behind their mother. Excellent. Especially since none of them are at all able to duplicate anything on film. That's right - the results of the photo shoot are pretty much on par with those from the first episode. Stinky, stinky, stinky.

During the judging, before the one-on-one critiques, Tricia asks the girls to leave and has them return, one at a time, and forces them to choose which contestant that they feel should get the boot. Based, of course, on what they've learned thus far about the modelling industry. Ha! But whatever - when the numbers are added up, Sisi has the most votes. But what does this mean? We shall soon see.

The girls return and the critiques begin. Random comments:

• On Tenika - "The body looks experienced, but the face looks like it's your first shoot". My inner 12-year-old boy fell in love with Venoit right then and there.
• Andrea blames the extra hair on her arms on being cold. Really, though, growth of the kind of hair she has on her extremities - the peach fuzz, downy kind - only happens a body doesn't have enough body fat to keep it warm. Instead of addressing that issue, she's told to find some way to remove it.
• On Brandi: "That's messed up, girl"
• On Heather: "She's already aged in her face"

Following the critiques, Tricia reveal to the girls that Sisi received the most votes and was deemed, by them, to be the person who should be kicked off. But also that the result may not have any effect on what the judges decide. Which makes me believe, quite strongly, that the producers saw just how politely boring the girls were and that they needed to stir up some shit in the house to make for anything resembling entertaining television.

The judges deliberate, and then call the girls back in. It comes down to Dawn and Brandi, but Dawn's overall fear of the camera and of modeling in general does her in.

Random Confessional Moments

• Tenika hates Brandi and equates her to a snake, constricting around everyone to squeeze the life out of them.
• Sisi delivers an absolutely unrecognizable, but entirely hilarious, impression of Dawn. After which, she opines, "You're so fucking. Boring."

Next week, Sisi vows revenge on the girls who voted for her to leave, the super-annoying and super-fem celebrity stylist-slash-irritant Philip Bloch guest directs at the photo shoot, and the girls take part in their first runway show.

CNTM - Episode #2 - Not a Recap, but a Triumphant, and Quick, Fist into the Air

Just a quick, non-recap Hell Yeah shout. Thankfully, the show is becoming all that I wished for previously. The bitch divas are coming out, the tears are flowing, and Tricia Helfer has become a bargazillion times more personable.

Recap tomorrow!

I Have Not Yet Murdered Them

And that is surprising! In fact, THEY THRIVE.

Proof

Sunday afternoon:
















Today:
















Double the size! I am freaked out, and hoping that they are really tomato plants and not crazyass bean stalks. Because I am just no emotionally prepared for battling a giant right now. I am a delicate flower, you see.

Shut it.

23 Squidoo

I have succumbed to peer pressure and created a Squidoo lens for my Canadian Online Shopping list.

Visit and help me add to it!


Online Shopping in Canada

Skirty McSkirterson

I don't know if you've noticed, or noticed me noticing you (winkwink, hey sailor!), but I'm pretty much in love with skirts. Which means that I adore every season that isn't winter 'cause I get to wear them. Why not so much with the skirt wearing in winter? Because tights + me = hilarious, uncomfortable comedy of errors. Each and every time.

That being said, the last couple of years have been lean with the skirt-buying and me. I have not the tall stature to pull of the boho-floaty-mid-calf-to-ankle designs that have taken over store shelves of late. So when I find a lovely a-line that hits me at the knee? I do whatever I can to snap it up.

Here's the skirt I wore today. It made me feel a bit like a surf bum, though I'm not quite sure why.

I Will Feed Millions with my Cherry Tomato-y Goodness

Or, at least, this plant and it's sister will do much to fill my own belly with tomato-y goodness. Which, though selfish, is all I really want.

So there.

Another Fashiony Post

It must be a fashiony day!

Look what arrived at my house this week. Oh, BCBG, how I love you:
























As I suspected, the silk underskirt is about an inch too long, and the tulle overlay, upon with the lurvely sequins are attached, is another inch longer. My current plan is this: visit seamstress. Shorten underskirt by an inch. Have the unsequened bit of tulle cut down to where the sequins start. Same effect, no? I am possibly too afraid of the possible problems that might arise from having the tulle overlay removed, taking an inch off at the top, and reattaching it to the hem. Thoughts?

This is the skirt I wore today:

















It's by OK47, and it is one of my absolute favourites.

Shamefacedly, and yet, strangely and proudly, I now present to you my ugly new shoes. I promise to only wear them when on my deck, gardening and washing my car. I sometimes wonder about my questionable taste.

CNTM - Episode 1 - "He told me I looked like a bulldog"

Dear Canada's Next Top Model,

Where, I ask you, is the overwhelming, over the top drama and craziness? Why do I get the feeling that you didn't really do a casting call, but instead left filling the slots to, say, the day before shooting started, causing you to run out into the street and make any girl that you ran into that fit the 5'9" and over, somewhat slim, over-18-under-25 criteria? And here is my proof: a casting episode, something considered standard for ANTM, and reality competition shows in general, was no where to be seen.

As exhibit two, I give you the competitors themselves. I know I said it yesterday, but, dear Christ, there is no way in hell that you can do anything to convince me that any of these girls could make it to the pages of a Sears catalogue, let alone a high fashion runway. As well, the prevailing attitude seems not to be one of the self delusional dementia on ANTM, but one of "Hey, someone suggested I try this. I'm not doing anything else right now, so…" And, although I was initially happy that the girls on this show seem to have not yet gotten to the stage where they consider shrieking in excitement as a valid method of communication, the lack of excitement and passion, even if it's generally misguided, does not give me hope for the reality train wreck that this show is supposed to be.

Things got off to a promising start with little orange Jay Manuel greeting the girls at a lakeside hotel, forcing them to remove their make-up, snapping polaroids, and making them choose an outfit and strut down long, curvy wooden dock, which served as an excellent makeshift catwalk. And, yeah, none of the girls can really walk. But that's no surprise.

Tricia Helfer, as host, disappointed the crap out of me. So stiff! So walled off and disconnected. Sigh.

An interesting twist on this version of the show, I think, is the inclusion of representatives from the modeling company that the winner will be contracted to. They talk a lot about the physical demands on a model - not just the work, but the look and proportions that a model must live up to. Measurements going on pre-photo shoot? Check. Talk about what it is about a face that makes it photogenic? Check. Discussion about things that the girls have to change about their body and physical presentation, up front and unapologetically presented? Check. Which is really refreshing - so many people that I know who watch these types of modeling competitions don't seem to get that while some of the competitors might be real-life pretty and have real-life bodies that others might envy, to fill the job of a model, they just don't stack up.

The girls are plopped down into their first photo shoot where they're directed to channel bad-ass rock and roll chick attitudes. Seated or sprawled out on a multi-coloured, lighted disco-style dance floor, the shoots themselves are painful to watch, and the results are even worse. The only girls who don't give a photo that either looks like an over-styled yearbook graduation photo, or a Glamour-Shot studio reject are Brandi, who comes across as the most fashion-y, Ylena, who, though photogenic, looks like she's in her 30s in the image, and Sylvie, which surprised the crap out of me because that girl? Off-film looks like that girl who captained your high school's softball team before becoming queen of the stoners. Ridden hard and put away wet, indeed.

As for the other girls, well. Alanna revealed that she was a replacement for a competitor who decided not to be on the show at the last minute. It shows. Sisi and Andrea are odd looking, but not in a way that makes the camera love them. They're also both intensely awkward in front of the camera and on the catwalk. Natalie is the most masculine looking contestant, and, at least in the first photo shoot, it is definitely working against her - Jay's assertion that she looked like a bulldog had a ring of truth when her best photo was revealed. Dawn is remarkable if only for her total inability to do anything but stare like a scared rabbit into the camera lens. Heather is forgettable, even though she was deemed as having the best walk and the most symmetrical features. Tenika is a pretty girl on video, and has the kind of intense energy that is admirable, but just does not take anything close to an attractive still picture.

Unfortunately for Sylvie, the fact that she doesn't seem to give a shit about the competition in particular, and the fashion industry in general (the "So what" she gave to the judges when the commented on her super-sloppy appearance sealed the deal, sweetie) had more weight then a somewhat acceptable photo, and she given the boot. The most excellent thing about this episode, however, had to be her near-fury at being eliminated. The bitterness! The disbelief! The refusal to cry! Closest thing to the craziness that makes America's Next Top Model watchable TV.

Overall, I was underwhelmed. You know there's an issue when the only person bringing the bitch is Jay, a castmember from the parent show. Jeanne Beker, I know you're a crazy ego-maniac - I want you to get Simon Cowell on those girls! Models, I want you to get the freak-out on!

I want delivery on the hilarious drama, dammit! And I want it now!

Prediction: Brandi will win.


xo,
M.

The Stench of Model is in the Air!

Ah, Canada's Next Top Model, though you have yet to air a single episode, I am in love with you. Your America's Next Top Model pedigree, your host, Tricia Helfer, one of my favourite Canadian models, and one of the few model-actress hybrids that does both more then well (ah, Battlestar Galactica!), your co-opting of the very orange Jay Manuel as a guest judge - how can you not be a winner?

Add to that a seemingly excellent online partnership with Yahoo Canada, and all I have to say is that you will make the insanely hot and sticky summer to come enjoyable. Even more so then Rockstar: INXS did last year. And me? I will take joy in mocking recaps after every show. Especially since the competitors? Look even less like models then last season of America's Next Top Model. Daria Werbowy, Jessica Stam, and Linda Evangelista, they most deifinately are not.

JOY!

You have been warned.

So lets get down to it with a mess of introductory links:

• Canada's Next Top Model site on Yahoo.ca
• Tricia Helfer's CNTM blog - Via Yahoo 360
• CNTM Radio Station via LaunchCast
  
• CNTM discussion group on Yahoo.ca (okay, this on is even too geeky for me)
• Pictures of the models' digs via Flickr - Vancouver Island is a lovely place. But does Vancouver really support an international modelling and fashion publishing / advertising industry like Toronto?

Competitor / Judge blog listings via Yahoo 360 - currently empty:

• Alanna
• Andrea
• Brandi
• Dawn
• Heather
• Natalie
• Sisi
• Sylvie
• Tenika
• Ylenia
• Judge: Jeanne
  
• Judge: Paul
• Judge: Stacey

I am holding out hope that my ANTM boyfriend, Nigel Barker, will make an appearance. But I tend to hope that about pretty much every situation.

I am the Girl Who...

Thinks that ending a very serious business meeting with a high five is an excellent idea.

Loves excellent skirts made in even more excellent fabrics.

Skirt, worn today, by Love Life

Tries to have dark chocolate every single day.

Hates the lull between TV series ending in May and the summer oddity shows beginning in June.

Is afraid at just how bad the summer is going to get with the hot and the humid and the sweat and the gross.

Is a monkey.

Who are you?

Because I am a Copycat

And because I love the visuals, I copy the Kate and present to you, via Aharef, the DOM structure of Its A Monkey.

I Love the Smell of Diesel Exhaust in the Morning

Since the last time I waxed spoke-etic, the instances of me on my baby bike have been, well, nil. After I picked up my bike from the shop, I headed on over to NYC. And then the weather here, following my return, became all kinds of mid-autumn and rainy like a son of a bitch. Was my furnace still on and kicking in this week? Indeed, it was.

But this morning? This morning, that all changed. The first ride of the season is under my belt, and it was excellent. Well, except for the fact that the first really lovely weekend of the spring also brought out the crazys cruising garage sales. And the big old trucks driving out to construction sites, making me wish for a Michael Jackson mask as they left fumes from their exhaust pipes in their wake. But for all of the complaining, it felt good, really good, to just be out sweating in the wind and the sun.

I love the cycling. And I think it might love me.

And now for something random: MTV Canada is just airing season 2 of Laguna Beach. I nominate Jason as the biggest douche to ever make an appearance on reality TV.

Canadian Online Shopping is a Sorry, Sorry State of Affairs

So I've started to compile a list of online retailers that are either based in Canada or will ship here. And I give those links, now, to you. Please feel free to add in the comments section! And no, I haven't ordered from most of these sites. But give me the cash, and I will.

Clothing / Jewellery / Accessories - Canada

• Amy Kovach - Jewellery and accessories
  
• Big It Up - Hats
• Biko Designs - Jewellery
• Broxup Jewellery - Jewellery made o' wood
  
• Felt - Bags, gifts and housewears
• Fine and Good - Jewellery
  
• Flyball Bags - Bags
• Girly Things - Jewellery
• Jeweliette - Jewellery and accessories
• Made You Look - Jewellery
  
• Marshall's Clothing Company - Clothing from many a-label
• Melissa Beth Designs - Laptop bags and tech gear
• Missy Industry - Jewellery
  
• Mountain Equipment Co-Op - Clothing and gear for the out of doors
• Mudshark Streetwear - Urban fashion from Canadian, and other, designers
• Paper-doll - Fashionable streetwear from Canadian designers
• Purple and Pink - Jewellery
• Shi Studio - Textile-based jewellery
  
• Sick on Sin - Clothing, buttons, magnets and the like covered in graphics from the artist behind Orneryboy.
  
• Snazzy Girl - All kinds of purty things from independent, often Canadian, designers
• Soos - Jewellery
  

Cosmetics - Canada

• Beautymark - Cosmetics and bath products
• Blossom Bath and Body Inc - Cosmetics and bath products
• B Skin - Bath and body products
  
• Cake Beauty - Bath and body products
• It's About Me - Cosmetics and bath products
• Lush - Bath and body products
• The Make-up Bar - Cosmetics
• Quorra Apothecary - Cosmetic and bath products
  
• Skindazzles - Handmade bath and body products

Foodstuffs and Kitchen Things - Canada

• Bernard Callebaut - Oh, chocolate
• Cards and Presents LTD - Fiestware and the like
  
• Chocolate Planet - Oh, chocolate. Again
• City Chef - Make your own damn food
• JS Bonbons - Again with the chocolate. Are you noticing a theme?
• Thomas Haas - Fine, fine chocolate
• Old Dutch Potato Chips - Truly the finest chips ever made
• Queen of Tarts - Only sells gingerbread cookies online, but, dude, they fucking rock with the shapes.
• Wild Sweets - Chocolate of the more experimental variety
  

Housewares / Stationary / Gifts - Canada

• In House Products - Housewares
• Meigo - Gifts of all sorts
  
• Mirage Paper Co - Stationary
• Plush Home and Design - Pillows
• Tigo - Excellent gifts made o' suede

Online sites based in the USA - will ship to Canada

• The Body Bakery - Bath and body products
• The Body Perfumery - Bath and body products
  
• Cooking.com - Seriously, you need me to describe this?
• Lucky Scent - Perfume
  
• Pasuptina - Necklaces made of the most amazing beads I've ever seen
  
• Pink Icing - Clothing and accessories
• Sephora - Cosmetics, bath and body products
  
• Shoes.com - Shoes. Dot com.
  

All I Need is a Life to Match the Clothes

Remember a few months ago when I fell in love with a lurvely chocolate brown sequined BCBG skirt that I found on EBay? Remember when I was outbid on that skirt, and reacted with dramatic tears and pretend fist shaking?

I do. And I clapped with glee when that skirt, this time in inky black, came up for auction this week.

Guess what will be making a home in my closet when it arrives at my house next week? Lookee!





















Of course, I reckon I'll have to find me a clever seamstress to shorten it a wee bit, to make it hit as high at the knee as it does on the leggier-then-I mannequin, but, damn, I am delighted.

I also have no place to wear it. Would someone please help me do something about that?

Ohhh, Just Like Mom Used to Make!

Okay, not so much make, more like "cover my pillows with".

Perhaps that calls for an explanation. Or perhaps not, and I will leave you in a state of mystery! But then you will call Mystery Inc, and they'd not only solve it, quick-like and crazily, but the case would also probably end up with a crotchety old man behind bars.

So tell you, I shall.

Last night, Brad and I ate at the Rice Bar (Note: their site seems to be down right now, but it's worked for me in the past). Upon entering the building, I saw some interesting textile art displayed on one of the walls. And my interesting textile art, I mean a series of 70s-style pillowcases strung up on a piece of rope.

Two caught my eye. Why? Because even though one was in green, and the other was in pink, I could tell that they were the missing siblings of the blue and orange sheet sets that my brother and I had when we were kids.

Here - I circled the one of the cases that I'm talking about. Stiped body! Floral boarder! Oh, my.









Thanks to Eye for capturing the wall! Now go and read their review of the place.

And no thanks to people not setting up a sheet set archive site. Because Googling "stripes" "floral" "pillow" "sheet" "70s" doesn't return nothin' but crap.

Also, the food? Very much excellent, my friends. I had the brown basmati with pan fried tofu, asparagus, soy and ginger sauce, and toasted garlic.

To: Rosemary

From: Melissa
Subject: Your ill advised decision to get off the Q-Tip train

Just what do you think you're doing? You're willing to leave John Cusack scene recreations behind you?
















I am aghast. In fact, I don't even know who you are anymore.


Bonus link: Read about the life of the Better off Dead Camaro post-production

Flushing with Pride

Dr Plumber, report to Home Depot, STAT!

Ah, emergency plumbing, how I both love and revile you. Last night, in particular, with the love and revilement. Why? Because the toilet that I'll be chucking out following the July bathroom renovation has developed a slow fill problem. In order to combat the issue, last night at around 6:30PM, I got me a screwdriver and started adjusting the screw that controls the water level in the tank on the float (no, not THAT kind of toilet related float. You have a dirty mind).

Turn, turn, SNAP, what the hell?

15 year old plastic breaks far to easily, I think. And I was faced with no longer a slow, continual fill, but a balls-to-the-wall rushing continual fill.

Excellent. If by excellent you mean GoodGodDamn. And I do.

I dropped to the floor, and turned off the water supply to the commode, and ran to call Home Depot to see if they were still open. Thankfully, those suckers know that suckers like me tend to plan badly and attempt repairs at stupid times, and had set store hours to accommodate. And so I ran over, bought a new float mechanism, and returned to my home, sitting on the floor, reading the installation directions.

1) Turn off water and empty tank. Dude, already done.
2) Uninstall old float mechanism. With a little muscle and a monkey wrench, check!
3) Mop up all the water that streamed onto the floor from its hiding place in the tank when you were trying to empty it. Ha, great. Check.
4) Install new float mechanism. Check.
5) Turn on water. Done, and done.
6) Flush toilet far too many times for the following reasons: too much pride at having performed a sucessful surgery; paranoia that none of the parts have been screwed in tightly enough, resulting in flooding fear. To date, flooding has been successfully averted.
7) Shake fist at toilet for the need to fix something that will be smashed to pieces in a few short months.

Me = MASTER PLUMBER.

The end.

On anyone else, this would not be cute, nor endearing.

But on Kiefer Sutherland, drunken Christmas Tree tackling? Somehow, adorable.



Direct link: Kiefer Sutherland, taking exception to a Christmas Tree topper because it called him a pussy - YouTube video

The Renovation Diaries: It's a Go!

After finally getting estimates back from all of the companies that I brought in to take a look at my bathroom, I settled on and signed a contract with the one that made me feel the most comfortable. Hot damn!

I'm very excited about the vanity that will be eventually living in there, even if the custom cabinetry is going to be at least 8 weeks before it comes down the line. So much so that I drew a picture in MS Paint for you.























The cabinet will be made of maple, and stained in a brown/black with the excellent stain-name o' Espresso. The pulls will be long and thin and stainless steel. Two drawers, to doored cabinets, and two large open spaces beneath the drawers. The best, though? It will be suspended from the wall. Suspended!

The top will be in a formica (I know, but the marble? Mad pricey. Especially for a place that I don't intend on dying in) called Mineral Spa, a bone with darker bone flecks that make it look like a natural stone.

Check it:





















The top will have square edges, and butt up right against the wall without a backsplash, which, I think, will make my stupidly angled wall on the right side of the vanity look lovely. Not to mention how excellent my sink will look on top of it.

I can't wait for July!

This Ass? It is Made of Pansies.

The crazy rain has made me reschedule tonight's dinner. Because the traffic driving into the city? Too much for me to take.

I am a horrible friend, I reckon. Whoops?

BlogHerNorth - Can I Get a Hell Yeah?

Previously, on It's a Monkey (and MyNameIsKate.ca), the notion of a geek-ass (BlogHerCan!) shoot-off BlogHer conference in Toronto was discussed.

Today, the planning process got itself publically kicked off.

Visit BlogHerNorth.org. Register. Keep up-to-date on the happenings. And then come up to kick it (ha, I said "kick it". I so hip. Ow, my hip hurts) in the fall!

***

Completely unrelated, I'll be a-dining at Rice Bar, Brock Shepherd's (formerly of Azul) newish place, tomorrow night. Neither I, nor my lovely Brad-type companion, have been there before. I know one of you Toronto and area kids must've in the near past. Personal reviews would be greatly appreciated.

I am now wondering what it is with me and grain-based food named food places this month. Bread Bar, Rice Bar...I feel like I must hunt down an Oatmeal Bar to round out the experience.

Iron Chef America, Battle: What the Fuck?

Having been unleashed from my chatty shackles of not chatting about the Susur Lee v. Bobby Flay battle on Iron Chef America that aired on FoodTV Canada this weekend, I find myself with little to say. Except, seriously, what the fuck? Okay, and also: Seriously, what the fuck.

The result? Battle: Bacon = A tie.

Ties? They stink. Especially when the judges expressed the following sentiments over and over regarding Lee's work: amazing and interesting. But interesting in a "toooooooo crazy for TV!" kind of way. Lee and Flay tied scores on flavour, and Lee was awarded more points for originalty, but lost out to Flay's standard and boring plating.

Granted, I may be more then a little biased, what with Lee being my chef crush, and my historical belief that Flay is an asshat of monumental proportions, but please. Giving Flay higher plating marks was insane. Look at the plates that were set down on my table on my last visit to Susur, and you tell me who knows plating. Susur knows plating, that's who.

For your reading pleasure, here are a few articles and interviews with Lee surrounding the Iron Chef experience:

• Macleans.ca - Iron Man Susur Lee
  
• Sceneandheard.ca: Will Susur's Cuisine Reign Supreme?
• Globeandmail.com - Susur Lee Fails to Slay Bobby Flay

Hospitality Blogging, NYC

Because a few of you out there have been remiss in viewing the Susur Lee Iron Chef America episode that aired this weekend, I am restraining myself from talking about it here. But confidential to you slackers: That shit won't watch itself.

So why don't I talk a bit more about NYC? Don't mind if I do. Unfortunately, no pictures as I left my camera at home, but it my Thursday Brad's Birthday Dinner plans go as planned, I'll hopefully have an excellent food photo essay for you by the end of the week.

And so we begin...

I stayed at an excellently pretentious hotel called Hotel QT. No "the". Darkly lit corridors, and even darker elevators. I had to stoop and almost smash my nose against the panel to figure out where the button for my floor was. It was a hipster haven, it was, and it was wonderful. I think my most favourite thing about it was the wee fridge (NOT an honour bar, an empty wee fridge!) that was built into the bathroom vanity. But more on that later.

After getting settled at the hotel, I headed out to fill my belly at Zen Palate, and excellent and reknowned vegan / vegetarian restaurant and cafe. I had the assorted steamed vegetables with red and brown rice, and a couple of amazing rice paper taro rolls.

Afterwards, I headed on over to the Food Emporium, to stock up on supplies - organic yogurt, Bare Naked granola, natural peanut butter and massive amounts of fruit - to fill that wee fridge. There's nothing better then being able to have breakfast with having to pay attention to your appearance in order to make an appearance at a restaurant. Not to mention having excellent fruit snacks available throughout the day.

That evening, I met up with friends at Bar Nine. It was a relaxed, casual place that was pretty cool, until a jazz fusion band took the stage. Porn bass (you heard me right - porn bass)? Thank, you, but no.

The next day, I lunched at the vegetarian restaurant and tea house Franchia. The warm vegetables in cold rice paper rolls and spicy mustard sauce, accompanied by a salad with creamy citrus dressing, were the perfect counterpoint to an unseasonably warm, though beautiful, afternoon. The surroundings were absolutely serene and lovely, and I was refreshed.

For dinner, I returned to the vegan raw food restaurant, Pure Food and Wine, but visited their Take Away storefront instead. I revisited their excellent vegan sushi and tried out their spicy thai lettuce rolls. Excellent, if a bit messy, and definitely good enough to make me accidentally purchase a Eat Raw, Live Long t-shirt. Which may also have tickled my double entendre fancy.

That evening, I met up with friends at the Beauty Bar. Outfitted like a beauty parlor, with a manicurist on staff, the place was awesome. And had glittery paint stripes on the walls!

On Friday, the conference catered in lunch, and damn, did they do it right. All of the food was organic, and all but 2 options were vegetarian as well! I had a couple of vegetarian sushi hand rolls, red lentil salad, carrot salad, raw hierloom baby carrots and steamed asparagus.

The first part of the evening, was spent Gstaad. Again with the hipster mood lighting, this time in the unisex bathrooms, but the rest of the place really appealed to my love of clean lines and urban un-clutter. PS: Swiss! But no cheese. Or watches. Or knives. I wish to see a rumble involving cheese. And watches. And knives.

Dinner was at Bread Bar at Tabla, which I had visited on my last visit to the city. Because that place? I was still occasionally having dreams about it. The food is served family / tapas style, and was just as excellent as my previous visit. We ordered Saag Paneer Pizza, which did crazy things to my tastebuds, channa masala, onion rings, baby bok choy pakoras, yogurt pilaf rice, 2 naans (rosemary and garlic), and an order of tandoori calamari.

Saturday's food haul was disappointing in comparison. Lunch at Au Bon Pain at Laugardia? Don't even look at me, you sad pile of foodstuffs, you.

Running on Empty

What is it about traveling that is so very exhausting? I was so pleased to be able to sleep in my own bed last night, but it made me realize just how very, very tired I was. And am.

Which brings me to my current dilemma. I purchased the most horribly tacky and hilarious birthday present for Brad: the scrolling LED belt buckle!





















I want to preprogram it, but my brain is slamming up against a brick wall. Help?

Did New York Eat You Alive?

No, no, but, goddamn, has it kept me busy. And happy. Which, let me tell you, surprises me, as NYC has a tendency to make me feel compressed and hateful with the rushing and too many people in not enough space.

The Good Experience Live conference was amazing. Mark Hurst of Creative Good was one of the best hosts that I have ever encountered, and though a few of the speakers were outside of my area of interest, a number stick out as people that I'd pay to see speak again. Hell, that I'd pay to sit down at a table and have a coffee with. Because I am a librarian, here is a link list of those people:

• Danny Brown - maker of crazy-ass films
• Geoffrey Canada - Harlem Children's Zone
• Jason Fried - 37 Signals
• Seth Godin - Dude
• Ji Lee - The Bubble Project
• Jane McGonigal - Avant Game
• Erin McKean - New Oxford American Dictionary, Verbatim magazine, A Dress a Day
• Mark Salem - Mentalist

Add on to that amazing weather that allowed me to stomp about the city every day, excellent restuarants (Pure Food and Wine's take-away joint, Zen Palate, Franchia, and the Bread Bar at Tabla), awesome shopping, and most importantly, and most fun, getting to spend time every evening with the most excellent people ever.

EVER.

It makes me sad to have to hop on a plane this morning. It really was that excellent of a trip.

The Streets in New York Are Busy and Loud

I am in possession of the gift of stating the obvious. I'm seven floors up in my hotel on 45th St, and I keep being awoken by car horns and people barking like dogs. Oh, those crazy theatre goers!

My hotel is so very pretensious and excellent, I can't even begin to tell you. I am sad that in an effort to "pack light" I left my camera at home.

While foraging for food after check in, I walked down 45th, and came across a massive gathering at Broadway. People from all sides of the street were standing, neck crained, excited, with cameras at the ready, at a flotilla of parked black SUVs and a whole department of police officers surrounding them. Because I am nosey, I accosted someone with a walkie talkie and asked what everyone was waiting for.

"Tom Cruise", he said.
"Fucking Tom Cruise" I muttered, and ran away, very quickly, so that Cruise wouldn't have the opportunity to make me a baby carrying Scientologist fiance.

End Day One summary.

Keep Your Pimp Hand Strong

I give to you Pimp My Snack. A piece of UK brilliance, the kids chattering in the Pimp My Snack forums goad each other into creating homemade, crazy ass huge versions of store-bought snack foods, documenting the process from ingredients to comparison photo finale.

Take a look at some of my favourites.

• Ultimeight
• The Fistful of Fudge
• The King Rolo

I fear this site because it gives me ideas. I love this site because it gives me ideas.

You Found Out...I've Got a Crush. On. You.

Before we start, a bit of housekeeping: Blogger has improved it's comment-spam-blocking powers, so I've up and changed the comment feature on It's A Monkey. You no longer have to be a registered user to comment, but still have to use the enter-this-random-word verification to post.

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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. See for yourself, why don't you?

Note: the below links will open up an html page with an imbedded media player, but will not automatically start playing the clip. So press start, already.

Springfield Daytime Emmy Performance - Before the opening credits roll (Windows Media file)
Springfield Daytime Emmy Performance - Post opening credits (Windows Media file)

I must stop talking about it before I fall into swoon again.

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My chef crush, Susur Lee, will be battling proven asshat Bobby Flay on Iron Chef America on Food TV Canada this Wednesday, at 9PM EST.

I have no idea when the show is set to air in other areas, as Foodtv.com's ICA page seems to not want to reveal that information. Sigh. But seriously, I implore you to watch.

Oh, Susur. I wish for you to cook every morsel of food that I will ever eat for me from now on until the end of time, the end.

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And finally, the a killer bunny from the Monty Python Plush Toy line.