Spendy, Spendy!

Well, dreamy-spendy, that is.

Do you ever think about what you'd do if someone gave you a gift card to an upscale store like Holt Renfrew, or Saks Fifth Avenue? I do. Because I am graspy, and because I like to think about stuff that I'd like to make mine.

If I came into possession of such a thing, I would either put it towards purchasing another Mackage coat - this time of car coat length. In particular, this beauty, which I've visited in person, but without the stupid hood that isn't actually attacked to the coat.




Or, I would invest it in a classic, crazy expensive bag. Like this little lady from Furla:



Or this bad boy from Cole Haan:



What one item would you purchase? And it can't be practical! Okay, it can, because coat and bag? Practical. But it must be designer-y and make you drool.

I Gots Nothing. NOTHING.

Seriously, nothing. I need to work on that, obviously.

Okay, I lied. I became impatient and bought a dress, itself deeply discounted, online from Stylefly.ca. It's by a line called Saint Grace.



It looks like this, but is in a plum-y-currant colour. I may wear it Wednesday, if the rain disappears by then.

No Dress For You!

Instead, new rotors for my car's front brakes. How exciting!

Well, no dress for me for a few weeks, at least, until I can find time to make it to a city (read: Toronto) with real stores that don't exist in malls.

That is all.

There's No Use Fighting It

Part the First

Every year I hope that the summer will last forever. That I'll never have to turn over my thermostat control from AC to Heater. That the snow? She will stay away. And every year, I am denied.

This year, I've come to accept the change in season. My air conditioner is already wrapped up in it's winter coat, the furnace has been clicking on for the past two weeks, and today, I moved my outdoor furniture from my balcony to my storage locker.

I feel grown up.

***

Part the Second
























I have gone from reviling dresses to loving them. And this time, I'm not just talking about those of the cocktail persuasion. I'm talking about a wholesale love for the dress.

I want to wear dresses during the day. At work. Which, generally, is a non-cocktail type of place. I want dresses like the one you see to the left. Generra, Ella Moss, Rachel Pally, Geren Ford, I want you all to come to my house and make me pretty things to wear.

And if I was a rich girl, I would also be wanting the dress on the right. Oh, Crazy Uncle Karl, how you make me covet.

Do you like how I just throw out designer names like I've made a study of fashion? I try, kids. Being a poseur is not easy.

That being said, after my car's appointment at the shop, I may try to head on over to Holt's to see if I can find one not too outrageously expense frock to add to my wardrobe. We shall see.

***

Part the Third

I love the Showcase comedy Rent-a-Goalie.

I hate hockey.

I don't know how to reconcile these two facts.


***

Part the Last

For the past few days, my parents, especially my dad, have been doing a wonderful job standing by the sons of his brother as they try to deal with a mountain of shit that he has shovel atop of them.

Although you know that other people's families don't usually work the same way that yours does, its always a little shocking when you're actually confronted with the fact.

It makes you step back and think about your own situation.

And if you're lucky, like me, it makes you thankful.

Oh, look, it's Thanksgiving Day as well. Who knew?

Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo

Hey kids, just to let you know that I'm taking a few days away from the blog. Will be returning, at the latest, next week.

The end.

Flush of Good Health

You may have noticed a change in appearance around these here parts. That's because I'm a-going Pink for October.

Lets face it - someone you might know, someone you might love, someone you might be, has been affected by breast cancer. And even though it's important to spread awareness and raise money for research aimed at combating the disease year-round, it's also important to turn other people's attention to the issue with a very focused, month-long campaign to spread the word.

So while you're thinking about breast cancer, examining your own boobahs (you too, owners of the man-boobs, or, perhaps, "pecs" is more to your liking), and considering donating to the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation / American Breast Cancer Foundation, why not do something even easier?

If you have your own blog, our your own site, or if you make use of Yahoo's homepage as a starting off point on the web, why don't you see if you can turn those pink as well? Do a little to spread the word. Because, like GI Joe says, "Knowing is half the battle".

Tap That Ass

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.

Of course, it really wasn't a run in, it was more like a wee bump, but still, it leaves me livid and hating the drive into the office even more.

I wonder how you can drive on a four lane road, and be behind at least 12 cars that are at a complete stop, waiting for a light to turn, in a lane beside another that is full of cars that are also at a standstill and still manage to tap the fender of the car in front of you.

I also wonder how someone can do this and merely throw their hands up in the air in a shit-happens kind of way. And then insist of driving right behind the car that you bumped into for the next 4 or 5 kilometres.

I pretend to know how people's brains work.

I know nothing.

Anyway, the car, she is fine, as am I. And I may have to confess to snickering at the imprint her license plate left in the layer of dirt coating my bumper. Whoops?

***

In a few paragraphs where I don't complain, I must tell you of my delight with my new necklace!

Ordered from Day Lab for a mere $10 ($10!), I am now in excited possession of a brass octopus. I will love it and hug it and make a home for it around my neck.

Love it! Hug it! Hang it around my neck! It doesn't get any better then that.

I Am Shaggy. Like Dog!

I also, apparently, sit pretty when I want things, and prounce about on a red carpet.

That being said, I am doing everything I can to resist grabbing a pair of scissors and running to the bathroom to chop at my bangs.

I am determined to make it through to Saturday, when I have an appointment with the lovely Tasha for a cut and colour.

But the bangs...they are looking at me, and begging to be cut. It is making my monkey crazy.

Bloodletting. Which Some of the New Season TV Shows Make Me Feel Like Doing.

So I'm on meds that may or may not destroy my kidneys. As such, I have to get yearly blood tests to make sure that the kidney does not turn into cement while everyone's back is turned. Last year, I came out of the lab looking like a novice heroin user with a case of the shakes, so my enthusiasm for the letting of blood that needed to be done today was at an all time low.

Imagine my surprise when the medical assistant assigned to my visit was able to fill up two vials on the first stab. And then imagine my shock when I removed the tape and cotton ball to find only a small pinprick to mark where the needle was placed. Hours later, and I am bruise and ache free. Who knew that was even possible?

***

Every autumn, I look forward with hand-clapping glee to the new TV season. We're halfway through the premieres of brand spanking new shows, and I am both pleased and appalled with what is classified as being good enough television to make it to the air. So let's make a couple of lists running it down.


The Verdict To Date

Added to Viewing Rotation

• Studio 60
  
• Saved
  
• Kidnapped
  
• Six Degrees
• Men In Trees
• Brothers & Sisters

Teetering On The Edge - Episode Two Will Be Make or Break

• Jericho
• Shark

Pass

• Vanished
• Celebrity Duets
• Justice (why only give Victor Garber lines that must be shouted? Why?)
  
• Standoff
• 'Til Death
• Happy Hour
• The Class
• Smith

Coming Up in the Weeks Ahead

• Ugly Betty
• Runaway
• Heroes
• Help Me Help You
• Friday Night Lights
• 20 Good Years
• The Nine
• Big Day
• Notes From The Underbelly
• 30 Rock
• The Knights of Prosperity
• Day Break

Angry New Wave Ponies

A couple of friends travelled up to visit me this weekend. I did not like that they had to leave to go back to their own homes. It made me irate. Like a pirate. Fun times should not have to end.

The lovely hilarity began on Friday evening, when, driving back to my home on the highway, a strange blue car began to keep suspicious pace beside us, on my left hand side, as we approached the exit before my own. Seeing this happening out of the corner of my eye, I pretended to not notice the driver's attempt to capture my attention, because what if that driver was BATSHIT CRAZY? And what if he had A GUN? Southern Ontario, it's a crazy place for drive-by highway shootings. Except not. But I digress.

So I pretended not to notice and chattered away to my friends, until I could see that there driver waving (or were those OBSCENE GESTURES?) at us, and my front seat passenger friend starting to wave back. So I peered out the window, expecting the worst.

And I saw...my brother. And almost collapsed on the floor laughing. Randomly seeing a relative driving beside you on the highway is like being in first grade and seeing your teacher at the mall. Or going to a restaurant and seeing a co-worker who lives no where near the city you live in sitting at the table right beside the entrance.

Which happened as well, that night.

It made me wonder if Canada really was as small as all those people on TV try to make you believe it is.

The next day, we walked a bargazillion kilometres around Toronto. And saw angry ponies. And a travel agency for time travellers from the 80s.

I also retained my title of Shopping Enabler. I warn you - go shopping with me, and you will end up buying something.

Later on, we filled our bellies at Susur. And though I was remiss in photographing the plates, I think I have enough cred to be believed when I say that it was one of the better meals that I have ever had there. This time around, the vegetarian tasting menu consisted of:

• Amouse Bouche: Three Asian-style spoons, the first holding a thin strip of jicama rolled around tightly diced summer vegetables, the second a vegetable based jelly, and the third displaying two heirloom grape tomatoes in a basil sauce.
• 1st Course: Summer vegetable curry with foam over dal
• 2nd Course: Pan fried potato gnocchi with an heirloom tomato reduction
• 3rd Course: White asparagus and orange segments bathed in an orange cream sauce
• 4th Course: Spinach noodles with summer vegetables, tomato water and spicy peanut sauce
• 5th Course: The now familiar tiered dessert tray plus a plate of four more wee desserts for the table to share

The gnocchi melted in my mouth, the orange cream sauce made me wish that I just had a mug of it to drink straight, and the noodle course was the most amazing, fresh and lovely palate cleanser ever.

And now the weekend is over. And my head feels better for it.

Travelling in September is Always Hit or Miss

Today, as I wait for my friends' plane to arrive, I ponder how more miss then hit it is. Especially when their arrival time kepts being pushed back. And back. And back again.

I will say this, however - expect another Susur-based food porn post after this weekend is over!

Sometimes I feel like I need to branch out and try new fancypants places, but, erm, if it ain't broke?

Read about previous gastronomical events:
. Dinner with Kate (July 2006)
. Dinner with Brad (Feb 2006)
. Lunch with Lorne and pre-blog Susur-love history (Jan 2006)

I Am Not A Quitter. Okay, I Am. Plus, Models.

But at least I gave the jewellery making class a fair shot. I figured that since I was just as disappointed and frustrated with the subject matter and lack of teaching style of the class instructor, coupled with the fact that I could teach my own ass the techniques that were being demonstrated each session, it was time to cut bait and salvage whatever I could from the class fees.

In much more excellent news, America's Next Top Model returned to the airwaves last night. I may be horrid with my love for watching delusional young women compete and the drama that ensues, but I am not ashamed. Hilarity, thy name is ANTM.

The only thing that I dislike about The Models (hi Kate!) is the amount of, and way that young women have attempted to turn shrieking into a serious and valid form of communication. Until the first kid gets the boot, I feel like I've tuned into America's Next Top Cheer Camp. This year, the notion was doubled when a number of the girls performed actual cheers in their first face to face with Tyra and the Jays.

Ready!? ALRIGHT!

Chick Advisor

Earlier this week, Jeneane at Allied, a fellow Blog Sister, pointed me on over to Chick Advisor, a Toronto-based social recommendation site or for products, services and restaurants. Currently Toronto and Southern Ontario-centric (and damn, that's nice to see for once!), I can see this sucker exploding to talk about the good and the bad in cities across the country, and, eventually, in city-centres 'round the world.

Check it out, and if you're up to submitting your own reviews, register and babble on, my lovelies.

Disorganization + Harsh Lighting = Frustration

I've been lax in talking about my first jewellery making class, haven't I? I put it down to being peeved about that whole day and not wanting to relive it, blog-form.

After spending the afternoon running back and forth between condo and cable company to replace not only my original PVR that decided to get all crazy on my ass and not record correctly, but the first replacement box that they gave me which, itself, was broken straight out of the box, I raced on over to the arts college and walked into a room that was lit by the harshest flourescent lighting that I have ever encountered.

And the headache began.

The instructor began to speak, and it was obvious that she had prepared nothing in advance of the class and was decidedly winging it. And badly at that. And she was repeatedly interupted by classmembers who asked her to clarify points that she made by repeating back exactly what she had just stated, in the form of a question, followed by "Is that right?"

And the headache grew worse.

I had to leave with a half hour left to class, as I couldn't deal with sitting at a desk, doing nothing, while the instructor went from student to student, demonstrating the same technique, over and over. Plus, the headache.

I have higher hopes for this week's class, as we'll actually be doing things with our own hands, instead of simply watching and taking notes.

But really? I'm starting to wish that I had sprung for the glassblowing class instead. Molten sand! How can that be made bad?

I Covet, I Long, I Want With a Passion

That almost defies reason.

That's the thing with wanting something. At first blush, the need is so strong, it's almost overpowering. I learned long ago that the wait, it is a good thing, as it draws a line between things that I want to develop a long, lasting relationship with, and things that I'm giving the eye as a passing fling.

I generally give myself a couple of weeks to mull my desire over before plunging into a major purchase. And right now? I am currently debating my need for these:




































Rabbit! Monkey! Oh, dear. Necklaces from the Merric Collection by Odette New York.

The Good Blogs

So you might have noticed a new widget (Hi Kate!) in the left hand column over there. Just what is that freakish thing? Why, that's a traffic driver.

The Good Blogs is a network that connects like blogs together, rotating updated blogs in community and posting links to those blogs through that there list you are now a-beholding. The communities that they have available right now are a wee bit limited (hey, let's put all the chicks together), but, dammit, it's a good thing, and pretty much ensures that you'll have something new and exciting to read. Well, new and exciting after you read the NEW and EXCITING and REFORMULATED (what?) stuff here.

So check out them there other blogs. And if you've got yourself a little spot on the Interweb, sign yourself up.

Thanks to Kate (yes, the one at the top of this post) for the finger pointing the way.

Eureka: Separated at Birth

One small complaint that I have about living in Canada is the amount of time it sometimes takes to get original TV programming airing in the US to air up here. This year alone, Project Runway, The Closer andLaguna Beach have started anywhere from weeks to months after beginning their run on US TV.

It's understandable, of course, as these shows come from specialty channels and a whole buy-then-air deal has to be made between US and Canadian TV outlets, so I reckon I shouldn't complain too much...especially when a show like Eureka, an original program from US's SciFi Network, gets picked up by Space.

I confess to geekdom. I confess to love of clever sci-fi shows. And now I confess to a love of Eureka.

And I love it not for the eye candy, though it does help. Even though I always seem to mix up Colin Ferguson with my Keen Eddie boyfriend, Mark Valley. But, c'mon - they could be brothers, don't you think? Which is which? I put the pictures up, and I can't even remember.

You're ON NOTICE!

Thanks to Adrien for leading me to this bit of awesomeness.

Create your own!

There's Something Refreshing About September

Call it a bargazillion years of schooling, but September always makes me want to start something new and exciting and fresh. And so, I'm a-headed back to the hallowed halls. No, this time I won't be stuffing another book-learning degree under my belt (although I have been thinking about my 25 year Doctorate plan...working while schooling, it'll be the only way to do it), but will be exercising the more creative, less "science best practice this is

what works", use my hands to make the picture in my head real bit and learning the basics behind jewellery construction. And classes start next week!

I know, some of you might be saying, "Dear girl, don't you already make jewellery? And what ever happened to your plan to make and sell your fine (okay, more like "funny") art?", to which I answer, "I do, but always fear that since I've never actually learned any techniques from any one and have gone the lick-and-a-prayer route that things might fall apart, I reckon I should learn the rules of construction before I figure out workable ways to break them. And the art is still a go! Especially now that my home is completely mine again".

And then I would realize that the conversation I just had was completely with myself, and I would ruefully scratch my nose and pretend that it hadn't happened.

Anyway, the course that I'll be taking is at a local arts college that specializes in things like furniture making, and animation, and interior design as real-ass multi-year degree courses. Thankfully, they offer evening community classes as well. And that makes me happy like you don't even understand.

Next semester, I'm eye-ing the introduction to glass blowing.




I live for danger.

PS: I Am Still Self Centered

As I prefer to believe that when a character on The Smart Woman Survival Guide shouted "It's a monkey!" as a diversionary tactic, that it was actually a shout-out to me.

The end.

Don't You Ever Leave Me Again!

I have very deep, heartfelt relationships with magazines. Okay, with a couple of magazines. Unfortunately, they usually go under or undergo a "rebirth" that completely strips away everything that I used to love about them. Case in point: Sassy and Jane.

But, Radar? Radar entered my life. Then left due to bankruptcy. Then entered it again when the editorial staff found it some pockets filled with cash. And then they left again, due, again, to money woes. But now? More, bigger pockets, and a slow, but steady, and much less grand re-enterance.


Today, the Radar website was reactivated. Crazy new content, and an archive of old. Hard to kill, indeed. I can't wait until the physical edition starts re-publication. There's something so right about the tactile sensation of holding cynical brilliance in your hand, and flipping through the pages, deciding where to stop.

Jesus Christ, It's Actually Done!

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

As trauma filled as it's been, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

By the way, I painted and installed the light fixture and all the accessories myself.

Before we start, you might want to take a look at what it looked like on Day One of the project.

Okay then, here we go.

From the hall door, looking in:




From the opposite corner, inside the bathroom. The first is the door to the hall:




And a couple of close-ups of the sink and shower system:

Look, A Picture of Me!

That is, if I lived in Asia. And was an actual bunny instead of just a wee lass who lays claim to a legacy screenname including the word.

What?

Little Miss Sunshine

Last night, I attended the early showing of Little Miss Sunshine, which is not about this:


But this:



Really, though, it was smart, oddly charming and incredibly hilarious.

My dislike of sitting in a theatre, however, was only reinforced. Average age of my fellow theatre go-ers? 65. And, like my parents who are of a similiar age (sorry Mom & Dad, but you know you do!), they were all talkers...the worst offenders being the couple who sat directly behind me.

"WHY WOULD HE DOOOOO THAT? WHY? WHY?"
"Oooh, he's never met a family like that!"
"Oh, JUST lovely!"
"So, they have to drive to California, and then drive all the way BACK!"

When a couple of irritated over the shoulder glances did nothing to quell their use of outdoor voices, I had to be the mean young lady who turned around and asked them to please be quiet.

Funny thing, though - the instant I did, they stopped talking and started whispering, meaning they had the ability to whisper the entire time, and just chose not to. WHY WOULD THEY DOOOOO THAT? WHY? WHY?

I don't think I'll be heading out to the theatre to see another movie for a while, golden age date-night showing or not. Because the movie talkers? They are everywhere. And, let's face it, the films, they all come to digital cable soon enough.

Of Cherry Flavoured Beverages, Bowling and Jewellery Classes

Dear Diet Black Cherry Vanilla Coke,

I had high hopes for you. In my misspent youth, I loved your sister, Cherry Coke, with an abandon, and wept when I could no longer find you on shelves where I am. But you? You are a disappointment.

Don't get me wrong...you are pretty. And even a little classy looking. But to taste? You are naught but unappealing.

The black cherry taste? But an afterthought

The vanilla? Artificial and overwhelming the cola.

And neither...neither can do anything to cover up the taste of aspartame.

I will continue to pledge my allegiance to Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper. Because she? She rocks the house.

That being said, I have 11 cans of the stuff. Anyone I see face-to-face want them? Lemme know.

***

Random suprise-pre-wedding celebrations for co-workers at bowling alleys are an excellent way to break-up a work week.

***

So I make jewellery, right? But I'm always a little scared that it will fall apart, due to the fact that I've taught myself how to make these things. So I've gone and registered for a 12-week jewellery and bead making course at the local fine arts college, starting in September.

And you're all receiving my homework as gifts!

Samantha Bee Investigates

Could it Happen Here: Snakes

Or, perhaps more to the point: Could it Happen Here: Motherfucking Snakes on a Motherfucking Plane.

Gratuitous Baby Monkey Video Ahead

You have been warned.

Motherfucking Snakes on a Motherfucking Blog Post

It's been a good eight months since I jumped on the Snakes of a Plane bandwagon, and I must say that I couldn't be happier that the film has finally arrived.

I have even interupted my vacation to post about my joy.

Now that? That is dedication.

Of course, I won't be heading out to see it until the craziness dies down, because me and crowds of people? We are not friends.

***

Before I go to enjoy the last few days of being a slack-ass motherfucking snake on a plane, I would just like to take a minute to be absolutely self centered and egotistical and tell you about how ABNORMALLY STRONG I am.

Me? I am small.

But I am strong.

Case (cases?) in point: Yesterday and today (and tomorrow), my trainer has (will be) setting me up on a new program of heavy weights, doing sets of only 8 reps at as heavy a weight I can stand to move.

Yesterday, I did chin-ups on the assist machine. The deal with the machine is that the more weight you select, the easier it is to do the exercise. And yesterday, I was doing chin-ups with only 10lbs of assistance. Soon, I'll be doing chin-ups without it at all, and probably in incredibly annoying non-gym situations just because I can, and I'm an ass that way.

Today, on the lying leg press machine, I hoisted 235lbs into the air.

Apparently, you should be ware not to mess with me. But that's possibly only because I will fight dirty.

Out of Office Assistant

That's right, I'm on vacation, and I reckon that unless something crazy comes up, I'm going to take a week-long break from blogging too.

Promise to come back with stories that may or may not be true. And / or funny.

The end.

It's A Jelly

If there is one movie that I adore beyond rational thought, it's Strange Brew. I can't begin to count the number of times that I've watched it, how many times a random quote has popped out of my mouth ("Radiation has made me an enemy of civilization!") at the most hilarious and unrelated times, or how random images from the film sometimes just fill up my inner movie watching head and cause me to snicker at, seemingly, nothing at all.


I bring this up because, heyhey, guess what I'm watching right now? Showcase, I can always depend on you to deliver the unexpected awesomeness just when I need it. This is the perfect way to spend the final afternoon of a civic holiday long weekend. Perfect, I say!

For those of you without access to Showcase, I give to you this:

• A virtual scene by scene video capture of the movie

Don't say I never gave you anything!

The Best Music Video I Have Seen In A Long Time

I Think There Might Be A Light At The End Of The Tunnel

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.

Is the end actually in sight?

I sure hope so. Stumbling between two bathrooms on two different floors in order to get ready for work in the morning? Sometimes, in and of itself turns into a comedy of errors.

And talking about Shakespeare (what?), a quick shout of delight (and despair) that the final season of the amazing Slings & Arrows is airing right now. Adoration for Paul Gross, Martha Burns, Don McKellar, Susan Coynes and Mark McKinney, and goon-like clapping for this season's guest stars, Sarah Polley and William Hutt. Also, I adore King Lear.

That is all.

I Am Calling You Out!

I know, I'm so rude with the calling out of the lurkers, but I know I've got me some readers that I didn't know before starting this here blog, and I'd love to hear a little bit about you. I gots to know! Because I am nosey. And, as I mentioned before, rude.

Give it up, people!

And yes, I am completely expecting to receive no response to my plea and will sit here with egg on my face. But I am ever hopeful. Because I am not so much fond of the eggs. Unlike the pug to your left, who seems to love the eggs far too much.

***

I am loathe to talk too much about this under the suspicion that talking about it will make things go horribly wrong, but there is a new project manager on my bathroom renovation case, and I am hopeful. Hopeful, I say.

I have also been so focused on the project that I have no good stories to tell you today. But I'm working on it.

Slap a Coat of Paint on It!

So I just did. On the walls in my bathroom, I mean. Switching out the light fixture tomorrow, and moving all my independent shelves and art back in too.

And then the wait for all the stuff I have no control over, she begins.

PS: I got paint in me hair. And on every square centimeter of exposed skin too. I am thanking my own cleverness for buying disposable drop cloths, I am.

I Don't Even WANT To Get Into It Today

But let me just say this: the project manager on my renovation? Apparently has no idea what a project is. Or how it should be managed.

I will just make myself focus on the fact that I get to prime and paint and install lighting today, and expel all the frustration into something constructive.

I Just Peed in my New Toilet

Aren't you happy you decided to access this blog today?

Really, though, aside from the vanity top / sink installation and mirror framing, the reno company's part of the new bathroom is done. But no pictures until it's all complete!

I swear, however, that these cabinets are going to be the death of me. I sat down on the toilet and glanced over at the cabinet side that is alongside my toilet. And what did I see? Bare wood. Apparently, either the reno company failed to tell them that that side of the cabinet would be facing the world, or they decided to ignore that. And by the time I saw that, my reno company had closed for the evening. One more thing for the project manager to add to the list of things that need to be done. Oh, also, they sent too short screws for the drawer and door pulls.

Cabinets of death, they are.

To be done:

• Install vanity top (reno company)
• Install sink and faucet (reno company)
• Install drawer and door pulls (reno company)
• Stain unstained cabinet side (reno company)
• Paint walls (me)
• Install new light (me)

Guess who's going to get their shit done first?

Renovation Trauma Continues

Last night, at 9PM, I recieved a call from Kwami, the installer that the company doing my bathroom renovation had contracted to do the work.

Apparently, yesterday afternoon, as he was leaving my place after grouting the shower and laying the floor tiles, he misstepped on the staircase and injured his foot. And hadn't realized how hurt he was until last night. He said he was going to go to the doctor this morning, and see if he could come in to complete the job afterwards. I asked him if he had talked to the project manager, and he said that he would do so in the morning.

Of course, being a micromanager, the first thing I do this morning, when the company opens for business, is call the project manager myself, who, rationally, tells me that he won't be able to do anything until Kwami calls him and updates him on his condition.

That being said, the project manager just called me to let me know that Kwami won't be showing up at my house today, as he has to have x-rays done. But that he is pretty sure that he'll be able to return to the job tomorrow.

I. Hate. This.

I feel bad for Kwami, but, really? I just want it all to be done.

Stupidity about the vanity top (see yesterday) aside, here's what was supposed to be done today, now tomorrow, to finish up most of the job:

• Caulk shower / tub
• Install shower system
• Grout floor
• Install baseboards
• Install toilet
• Install threshold cover
• Install cabinet
• Template cabinet top

Gah. GAH.

Of Course, Things Were Going Too Smoothly

I was talking to my renovation project manager today, and, of course, there are issues with my bathroom. Although the cabinets arrived today, and will be installed tomorrow, they still have to template the top, send that information to the cabinet maker, and have the top cut out. And the cabinet maker is closed for the week. And the top? Could take 5 days. So, no vanity top, and no sink for a while. Gar. Also, the wood that the cabinet maker was supposed to send along to frame my mirror? Didn't arrive with the cabinet. And, again, the cabinet maker? On vacation.

But work continues on here, and, so far, is going very well. I am trying not to start to thing that everything else will fall apart too. But of course I am. And it makes me sleep horribly, it does.

In other news, my car? She is paid off and completely mine now! And my dealership? Just called to see if I was interested in trading it in. Not likely. I reckon I shall drive it for at least a few more years until I really need to buy a new car.

That is all.

The end.

And We Have Tiles

In the shower, at least.



























Floor tiles and grouting to happen on Monday, caulking of the shower, and installation of the shower system, toilet and vanity, hopefully on Tuesday. And then it's up to me to change out the lighting and paint (I am a cheap bastard.)

Yesterday, My Bathroom Disappeared

And this is what I was left with:





















Today, I have a new sub-floor, tub and sheetrock in the shower.

Susur, Friend, Cocktail Dress. Dude.

Last night, Kate and I had dinner at Susur.

I wore a cocktail dress. Which you really can't see in this picture.




















But trust me, it was a dress that made the woman taking my money at the parking lot say, "What a beautiful dress!" and a yahoo honk at me and scream "GORGEOUS!" while walking to the restuarant. I wish I could wear that dress every day - not because of the dirty old man shouting, but because it makes me feel freaking pretty.

Anyway, this was my third experience at Susur, and I have to say it wasn't the best. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that it was the first night of a new menu, but things seemed a little off. It was still a lovely, delicious meal, but it didn't knock the socks off my ass like previous meals.

Our server was lovely, but had a thick french accent, and neither of us could understand half of what he was saying, so descriptions are a little sketchy. I had the vegetarian 5 course tasting menu, Kate had the meaty 6 course - we shared the desert course, as you'll see below.


Amouse Bouche
















From the left - Pineapple, tomato and some kind of reduction; zuchinni, carrot and some kind of reduction; tofu and some kind of gelle reduction


First Course

















Squash filled with dal curry topped with baby carrots, asparagus, peas and toasted almonds, with two types of sauces made from heirloom tomatos, a cherry tomato, pineapple and some other kind of reduction


Second Course
















Gnocchi in a tart tomato cheese sauce with cherry tomatos, peas and parmageno. Sorry the photo is so washed out! I just wanted to dig in and forgot to fiddle around with the exposure.



Third Course
















Artichoke filled with spinach and ricotta, top with toasted almonds, flanked by cooked pears on top of an apple foam (Kate also had this as one of her courses - I'm hoping she got a shot that isn't so washed out)


Fourth Course
















From the top, clockwise: two slices of heirloom tomato sandwiching a ricota mixture, heirloom tomato gazpacho, heirloom tomatos on a thin cheese wafer, balsamic vinegar gelle, roased vidalia onion


Fifth Course - two angles
































Top level: kiwi sorbet on meringe, another citrus sorbet toppped with meringue on a thin biscuit, cocoa tulle filled with chocolate mousse and topped with raspberries, tart topped with chocolate ganache and sugared cranberries, tart with pistachio cream topped with mango slices

Second level: warm chocolate cake with a peanut, peanut butter and pear centre, black tea creme brule topped with blueberries, coconut cake and banana reduction, summer berry gelle, and a chocolate cherry tart with vanilla ice cream

Long Time. No Excuse.

Well, except that there've been things going on in the past week that've made my pretty little head spin...not limited to Kate & Rose pulling up stakes and getting my place ready for the bathroom renovation that's starting NEXT WEEK.

Holy crap.

And since you all know my fondness for change, all I've been able to do in reaction is think and think and think and start to plan and lay out a new routine. Oh, routine, how you make me feel safe and warm with your snuggly soft arms wrapped around my shoulders.

Anyway, back to the excellent inane: I am delighted by the following:

• The Office webisodes. New webisodes posted every Thursday!
• NBC picking up the first two episodes of Project Runway Season Three, and airing them tomorrow and next Monday. I can only hope that ratings will be crazy insane and they'll pick up the whole season, because who knows when The Life Network will be airing them up here. Not me, who emailed the network a week and a half ago and am still waiting to hear back from them.
• Well, NBC as a whole, I guess. They've been incredibly pro-active about making use of the web as a tool, and I love them for it. From The Book of Daniel to posting scenes from SNL (hello, Chronicles of Narnia and the Natalie Portman hardcore rap, though the interface makes you work for it - click on Web Favourites on the bottom right of the page) that kids were watching on You Tube, to this stuff up above? Brilliant. Other networks have a lot to learn.

That is all.

Oh, the French.

They are a crazy lot. And I mean the ones in that there France.

Nabazta's blog picked up my blog posting about the wonder that is Nabazta and concocted an excellent and hilarious what-if situation of the romantic persuasation for me. Involving yours truly.

Thank God Rose is an excellent transalor (Babel Fish? Not so much), and was able to give me the lowdown. Between gales of laughter.

Now I REALLY want one!

Squidoo, Squidah. Plus, Sad.

My Squidoo lens, Online Shopping in Canada, has gotten so large that I've revamped the main page and separated out categories into their own lenses, linked from the main page. Please take a look and let me know what you think!


***

Right, so, sad. Today I learned that a co-worker is leaving the company to take advantage of a kick-ass job opportunity across the country. I'll be losing an incredibly smart and imaginative person to work alongside, but, more importanly, I'll be losing the chance to see a funny friend just about every day. And also, two of my bestest taste-testers and confidence-in-my-crafts boosters.

I'm super-happy for her, but sad for me.

Thank God we're at least going to have a chance to go out and say goodbye.

Brotherhood

This was going to be a post about the new Showtime produced show Brotherhood, airing up in here on The Movie Network. That is, until I attempted to access the official website at Showtime and was presented with this message instead:

Sorry. We at Showtime Online express our apologies; however, these pages are intended for access only from within the United States.

The hell? Showtime is plotting against the world! They are keeping secrets! They must be amassing troops on the border. Bastards. The lot of them.

Seriously, though, why would you block access to a website like that? It's not like Showtime has an MTV-Canada type deal going on where CRTC regulations insist that they not air things like music videos in Canada as it goes against their broadcasting charter. It makes no sense, and, seriously, does nothing but make me think they're a bunch of yahoos without a firm grasp at how information lives and grows and becomes the face of a corporation.

PS: I am trying to love Brotherhood because Ethan Embry is in it. Because Mark from Empire Records? He deserves the love.

.

I Wish For One Of These...

Say hello to the Nabaztag. Or get me one, get yourself one, and talk to me through it.

It's a freaking bunny, people, and some of you know that means I pretty much need to have it for that reason alone. But it will also:

• Tell me when you send me email and READ it to me
• Play MP3s and use them to wake me up when I tell it to
• Tell me about the weather
• Move it's EARS when you move the ears on yours! If they're matched, that is
• Look super-cute on my desk
• Possibly use it's status as a smart object and take over the world