Day Two Hundred and Forty-Four - A Whiter Shade Of Pale

Again with the fruits! Ummm, no - this post is not Pride related [though this is my 10th year in a row that I have had a good excuse for not attending Pride - one of these years I will though!]...it is once again related to my quest for decent-tasting fruit @ my crummy grocery store. It's like the search for the Holy Grail it is. In addition to the yummy corn that I purchased on Friday I decided to try out a new fruit - white nectarines. This was mostly to answer that ever-nagging question - do I like nectarines? Well, as it happens - yeah, kinda [which I think is a pretty standard nectarine answer - I don't think many people get passionate about them]. Query solved as I ate a white nectarine.

Photo not available due to the nectarine being excessively ripe. I feel like if I photographed it the nectarine would have dissolved. Suffice to say, a quick Google Images search will show you a nectarine or a white nectarine [I think called Summerwhite Nectarines]. The taste of the white-fleshed nectarine is supposed to be sweeter - they have been bred that way...although this fruit was more sour tasting that sweet [this is my opinion on most fruit - might just be the crummy quality or maybe my tastebuds have changed]. They are mostly shipped to Asia/the Pacific Rim as apparently the demand for very sweet fruit is very high there. Their popularity in North America is growing. They look just like any other nectarine on the outside, so be sure to look @ the label. Also...nectarines are peaches [and yes, they do make white peaches]. Really - they are. Most people think that nectarines are a hybrid of peaches and plums [due to the skin, I think]. They are not. They are simply peaches that have had the fuzzy skin gene bred out of them. As further proof of this - sometimes nectarines will grow on peach trees with all the peaches and vice versa. Freaky!

[and yes, the flesh of the nectarines is pale, but not white. that would be strange. fear not - I am still more pale than they are - even in the summer.]

Day Two Hundred and Forty-Three - Taking It To The Streets

Toronto is pretty much blissfully free of street performers. One must apply to get permission to play on TTC properties and generally speaking - that's where all of the buskers are located. Something about street performers makes me very uncomfortable and feel slightly creeped out and therefore I do my very best to ignore them. Today, however we were walking around the harbourfront area after taking in the Blue Jays/Braves game @ SkyDome [yes, SkyDome dammit!] and we happened upon a street performer. Normally I would scuttle on past and do my darned-est to avoid eye contact [this is my general rule when interacting with any part/person of Toronto actually], however this time I was with my mum and her husband, who seemed interested. Attracted by a flaming torch thing and the fact that we had time to kill before eating dinner we decided to settle in for the show.

It was a mix of illusions and juggling with humour really driving the performance. It was surprisingly...good? Okay, maybe not good - but it was...something. I found the humour to be a bit shockingly edgy for family-based entertainment, so I enjoyed that. Also, juggling with fire is quite an enviable [though useless] skill - especially for a klutz like me who can barely catch one thing. So we watched the entire show and, since I don't really think anything in life is free I gave money to a street performer. I thought perhaps he might be getting money from Harbourfront Centre before remembering that they are probably quite frugal with their monies. As they do not have considerable monies. Anyway - the photograph is of his final illusion...which isn't really an illusion - but hey - you can't complain when something is free.

Day Two Hundred and Forty-Two - Gladiator

So - those who know me know that I am not much of a shopper. I'm easily frustrated, highly impatient and yes, generally totally cautious with my money [that is the polite way to say it]. Also, I'm not much like the stereotypical woman [women - I do apologize for this and I'm not suggesting that you're like this, but "the man" says these things about us] in that I don't get rabidly excited about shoes and I don't expect/demand [you know who you are] that my partner buy me things. I can say all of this and present any amount of feminist street cred to you...but it's really all for naught as @ the moment I'm totally over the moon due to a pair of reasonably impossible shoes purchased for me by my boyfriend. That's right - I did it - I have acquired gladiator sandals! Eeeee! I could not be more excited about this. I mean, I'm kinda @ a loss for words - what could I say that could capture my feelings better than this photo?



See? They are perfection. They are everything that is me...in shoe form. Even the fact that they are brown. In my mind, I really wanted black gladiator sandals...but then Joseph and I had a serious heart to heart [we only do this over very serious matters such as videogames, Battlestar Galactica and apparently crazy amazing shoes] and I began to see the glory of the less popular tan sandal. I asked myself - what would Titus Pullo do? What would Atia do? The answer slowly became quite obvious...I should possess the less popular shoe [apparently the black ones are sold out all over the place] - I should be an individual. I am now fully prepared to kick some ass.

Day Two Hundred and Forty-One - Husker

So we were doing our traditional semi-late-night grocery shop and we were specifically engaged in the neverending quest to find decent vegetables @ our grocery store. You know how news-types are always saying that poor people don't buy fresh fruits and vegetables because they are too expensive? No, that's wrong. Poor people don't buy fresh fruits and vegetables because the majority of produce in cheaper grocery stories is already rotting or way, way under-ripe or just really gross in appearance [and I say this as someone who is un-averse to spots on my apples and other imperfections - just leave me the birds and the trees]. In our struggle for some tasty fresh vegetables I encountered a stranger who urged me to buy some corn on the cob. He even gave me some instructions on how to prepare it. And @ a cost of 2 cobs for $1 - I was totally sold. So tonight I prepared corn on the cob. Here's some of the preparation - some good old fashioned husking going on here.



I really can't believe that I've never prepared corn on the cob before. It is super delicious and so easy. Also, when I husked the corn I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was peaches and cream corn, not just...corn corn? It was just labelled "corn" in the store and being it is our crummy grocery store, I assumed it would be crummy corn. Sweet. Ummm, literally.

Check it out - ears of corn!

Day Two Hundred and Forty - Top O' The Muffin To You

Joseph and I have been eating entirely too many packaged sweets and baked goods lately. I'm a total cookie monster when I get home from work [or sometimes out of boredom when I'm not working - which is awful, I know]. Then Joseph will continue with the cookie eating after dinner. I resolved earlier this week to start baking more often, so that @ least our sweet things would be without preservatives and possibly low-fat as I cook a lot of low-fat foods. This has coincided nicely with my mum and her husband coming to visit this weekend. They will be staying in a hotel and I know that most people don't travel with food and sometimes one gets peckish in a hotel room either before dinner or after. So I thought I could package up some home-baked treats for them to enjoy in the hotel.

Which brings us to today's thing - in addition to my nearly-world-famous low-fat brownies I made muffins! This is my first-ever muffin baking adventure so I'm very proud of myself. They are blueberry bran muffins and yes, they are low-fat as well as being high in fibre. I have no real excuse for not baking my own muffins before now, except for that when I bake things I like to get a lot of bang for my buck. I like sweet things and muffins seem very middle of the road to me. They did not fluff up as much as I thought they might - so I didn't really get a big muffin top thing going on. I was afraid of them bubbling over and leaving a mess on the muffin tray, so I underfilled the cups a bit. They smell divine - like cinammon and fruit and they are very moist. Joseph says they are very nice and for once, I can take him @ face value as I know he is also not a big muffin fan.

[trouble uploading photo from blogger - bleh]

Day Two Hundred and Thirty-Nine - Step By Step

New Kids on the Block are enjoying a little bit of a throwback to their heyday [a very, very little bit - they were frakking huge! I say this as an unapologetic former fangirl. former.]. With them coming back and topping the charts I thought it would be fun to revist one of their big hits - Step by Step [it's in conjunction with my thing o' the day - I promise]. Let's review:

Step One: We can have lots of fun
Step Two: There's so much we can do
Step Three: It's just you and me
Step Four: I can give you more
Step Five: Don't you know that the time has arrived

...Huh!

So yeah, I think it's pretty clear what's going on in their steps [right? oh wait - maybe not]. I thought I would let everyone in on my daily steps - well, some of them anyway. Today I counted my footsteps. Here's a healthy sampling of following along step by step with me [the numbers are the number of steps]:

From my house to the subway: 777
Taken on the TTC: 390
From the subway to my office: 630 [this one surprised me - this is why I turn up later than I expect @ work - I allow 10 minutes to walk from my house to the subway, but maybe 5 to walk to work from the subway - ooops!]
To the nearby photocopier: 19
To the faraway photocopier: 52 [see - this is why people kick up a fuss about walking to the faraway photocopier]
Stairs @ work: 54
Stairs @ my subway station: 60 [feels like much more after a long day or a night of wearing heels]
From my bed to the bathroom: 17
From the sofa to the fridge: 13
Length of my apartment: 20

Can I say how much I hated doing this? Counting that many steps is really a bit difficult to do and so I had to walk slower and more deliberately for the larger numbers. I'm so very glad that this isn't one of my OCD tendencies [though in small bursts I like counting] - it really felt very claustrophobic/limiting to have to keep count.

Day Two Hundred and Thirty-Eight - Brisk

When I was little and I would eat @ restaurants with my family I would always order iced tea [even though I was a shameful Coke addict and still am]. I felt that it was a terribly mature choice and I always yearned to be terribly mature [ironically enough]. Then all of a sudden iced tea was available everywhere and it lost most of its allure for me as it tasted to me more filled with preservatives and too sweet for my tastes.

I do have a taste for tea in general, though. Each time I make herbal tea I look @ the "instructions for cold tea" and think - that's a good idea - I should make my own iced tea. And so I did - I made iced herbal tea. The process is obviously quite simple - this isn't rocket surgery here - you make a concentrate of hot tea with a small amount of water, large amount of tea bags. Let the conconction steep and then add cold water and sweeten with honey or sugar to taste. I decided to use wild jumbleberry flavour since I feel like I've been drinking that flavour since the beginning of time. The end result tasted to me like some diet iced tea drink - this was after I had added sugar [Joseph thinks I didn't add enough sugar]. It tasted much better without sweetener, although the flavour was a bit muted - I think I was a little cautious in the number of tea bags - for herbal tea one should probably add more than if one were making regular iced tea.

Here's the magical brew!

Day Two Hundred and Thirty-Seven - Twinkle Toes

I rarely paint my toenails. This is for several good/crazy reasons. I have weird little feet. They are tiny. They are wide. They have hair. Yes, I think I am a hobbit. Therefore, I'm rarely anxious to show them off [and yet, I'm also committed to not changing them, so whatever - I deal with it]. Also, I don't wear sandals very often. I'm old school in my fashion sensibilities in that I don't think sandals should be worn in most professional environments. And when I'm not in a professional environment I'm either dressing to go out [so I wear heels] or I am planning to be out walking about [so I wear trainers].

Today I was trimming my nails and I thought - what the heck [that's right - heck] - and I painted my toenails rainbow - in honour of Pride, of course. Yes, I only have five toes [it's really one of the only things that my bare feet have going for them - that and the fact that they are softer than most people's hands] and there are six colours in the rainbow so I went with a yellowed green for the middle toe [which is obviously the worst toe you could ever flip @ someone]. So, since I'm going to be otherwise occupied this weekend and unable to Pride it up, I humbly present my feet [in full on crunchy Birkenstock mode, no less]. So while my toes are flashing around poolside this weekend - @ least they will look awesome and perhaps distract from my not-quite-ready-for-primetime bikini body.

Day Two Hundred and Thirty-Six - Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

This is an ET that I have been wanting to do for a long time, but I was prompted earlier this week by Colette, who did the same thing. Today I memorized the NATO phonetic alphabet. For those who don't know the NATO alphabet assigns code words to the letters of the English alphabet so that critical combinations of letters can be pronounced and understood by those who transmit voice messages, regardless of their native language. Now, I am not likely to be making any radio transmissions or joining the military or anything...but I think that this might be a useful thing to know anyway.

So - here we go - maybe you should memorize it too?

Alpha
Bravo
Charlie
Delta
Echo
Foxtrot
Golf
Hotel
India
Juliet
Kilo
Lima
Mike
November
Oscar
Papa
Quebec
Romeo
Sierra
Tango
Uniform
Victor
Whiskey
X-ray
Zulu

Some of these really surprised me - especially the use of all of the proper nouns. The place names would be a bit confusing I would think...but hey - what do I know? Anyway, it's nice to have more knowledge beyond WTF and now I feel very cool and like I know a secret language. Unfortunately no one else I know is aware of this alphabet so it's kinda a language all to myself...which is fine as I spend quite a lot of time alone.

Day Two Hundred and Thirty-Five - NerdFest 2008

This highly nerdy thing came oh-so-very close to not happening at all. I was out volunteering my time @ LifeBeat 2008 - which was being held to benefit Geneva Centre and things carried on a bit longer than what I had originally planned. I placed a highly-charged call to Joseph and we decided to make a break for it and see if we could catch the tail end of what he dubbed NerdFest 2008. And we made it [well, I made it 25 minutes before Joseph] - we saw Video Games Live! For those of you not in the know [and to be honest I'm not sure why you would be] Video Games Live is an event where video game music is performed by a full symphony orchestra. This event was free and on @ Dundas Square - which also marks the first time that I spent time @ Dundas Square. This location is tacky, visually horrific, a Times-Square-wannabe, a hideous assault on one's senses...and potentially a very good place to get shot.

The performance was very good - it's quite overwhelming to hear music like that [orchestra music I mean] - it's so loud and powerful. And truly, one has not lived until one has heard the Mario theme music played by someone who is very likely classically trained in piano or holds a PhD in music or something. The turn-out was huge - which is why my photos are from so far away. It was really very good though - even though I wasn't familiar with the songs, they really sold it [and they show the animated bits of the video games on a big screen behind the orchestra]. Also - I got to see Fratty [aka Tommy Tallarico] - he is one of the creators of Video Games Live and also co-hosts/produces this silly video game review show that I like to watch to see him bicker with Nerdy [see - they are Nerdy and Fratty] and to get all riled up about ridiculous things [reminds me of me, even though we don't agree on most things]. In short, I would definitely pay money for this - I think crossover culture things like this are superneat. Also, if I saw this @ a better venue not only would the acoustics be better...there might not be nerds threatening me with their lightsabres.





Also - for the first time ever - please enjoy exclusive [ummm - unless you are familar with YouTube] VIDEO of Video Games Live. This is One-Winged Angel - which is the grande finale song in Final Fantasy VII - making it quite infamous to hardcore nerds and casual nerds [like me - which...yes, I have not finished the game yet - but keep watching this space]. And that's Fratty on guitar. No images of the game because everyone and their mother is familiar with it and it was the special encore. [sorry - video won't work - I will need my IT department to investigate]

Day Two Hundred and Thirty-Four - Rocketeer

I don't drive. At all. I have no shred of a driver's license. I briefly held a beginners/learning permit when I was almost 19 years old and I wanted a solid form of identification while legally drinking. Now I'm old and I think I look old enough to drink - although I was recently carded @ my local pub...so yeah - apparently I've still got that youthful glow about me. I'm kinda proud of the fact that I've managed to make it through 29 years without having my license even though absolutely EVERYONE I know stresses to me how important it is for me to get it. I like to pretend I'm some great environmentalist or something [mostly it's just laziness and this should come as a shock to no one]. And with my lack of a steady gig and also taxi fares on the rise in Toronto I am @ the mercy of the TTC. I mentioned yesterday that I had a bad incident on the TTC yesterday after a few really stressful days...but I didn't completely lose it [this should come as a shock to you].

Today I did something to fight back - I wrote a strongly worded email of complaint to the TTC. Although I've had numerous bad, bad times on the TTC [pretty much everyday to be honest] I have never bothered to officially complain as I highly suspect that it does nothing. The thing I am most proud of is that I refrained from swearing [I do have the mouth of a longshoreman, but I am aiming to reduce cursing by 40% in this house], although I believe that there was some sarcasm [though I think that will be lost on any TTC employee, particularly those who may be fielding the complaints]. It didn't really make me feel any better to complain in the formal way and I'm sure it will do nothing - the driver will probably get some sort of commendation for speeding up service by slamming the doors in our face. Gosh I just love unions.

[ps - the cotton candy photo has been added!]

Day Two Hundred and Thirty-Three - Strangers Have The Best Candy

I've had an exhausting few days with the execution of two different events, working with some very trying individuals, on my feet a lot and busting up my knee a bit - I am quite out of it today and I'm now preparing for two days of volunteering. I was so drained today that I just had to do something out of sheer desperation - I drank a Diet Pepsi. And yet, while that is something quite momentous and entirely brand new - that's not even my official ET for the day. That is how much I love to give. I'm tireless in that respect. For the official record though - Diet Pepsi is vile and I wouldn't serve it to pigs. And yet, I drank the entire can. Wonders never cease.

Today I also had a very trying time with the streetcar down @ the harbourfront. Mainly, it didn't arrive for 20 minutes...arrived...let one passenger on [car was not full @ all]...and then slammed the doors in our faces [about 8 of us waiting]. I may have let out a few expletive deleteds [those who know me know that I did]. Anyway, I had no choice but to wait again for another streetcar when I noticed that the fellow to my left had the same MP3 player as I did. This is quite something. You see, I don't have an iPod like everyone else on the planet. When I went to buy an MP3 player [finally getting on board with the technology in October of this year] I saw that iPods were much more expensive than non-iPods. To me, this seemed crazy - why pay more? So, I bought myself a 4GB Creative Zen MP3 player - I call it the nonPod. I never see fellow TTC riders with this. So, I broke with my longstanding tradition of regarding even eye contact from other passengers as a hostile advance and I started a conversation with a complete stranger on the TTC. See - he had a skin for his nonPod and I didn't buy one when I first got mine and couldn't find one in the stores when I looked last month. So, I asked the guy where he got the skin and complimented his taste in personal and portable electronics. He seemed to think that I wasn't a complete psycho. Score! [and now I know how to get me a fancy red skin for my non-red nonPod - red makes things better]

Day Two Hundred and Thirty-Two - Barbapapa

It's no secret that I enjoy carnival food - cotton candy, candy and caramel apples, funnel cakes, ice creams, hot dogs, fudge, popcorn, big pretzels, those tiny doughnuts, things that are deep fried that perhaps god did not intend to deep fry...it's all very, very good. Except for that one summer when me, Joseph and Rory got drunk on grease @ the CNE and the whole world stopped making sense and I thought a calliope was evil and trying to speak to me [that was bad - very, very bad]. And while I once spent an entire summer working @ Canada's biggest carnival-type location [okay, Adam thought it was a carnival when we took him last year] - I was strictly retail. You should not listen to me if I give you ride safety tips. And you probably shouldn't have let me prepare carnival foods for you...that is until today when I learned how to make cotton candy! Pictures most certainly will follow - they were snapped by our media person @ Geneva Centre and she is now on holiday until after Canada Day.

Here's how this exciting development...developed. Today was our Annual Family Picnic @ Geneva Centre. We hold the event in a local city park and invite all of our families/the community @ large to join us for carnival rides, carnival games, a BBQ, facepainting and etc. The etc. is where I come in with my mad cotton candy making skills. While this is not a fundraising event, the organization of picnic does fell into the hands of a former foundation director, so now my boss heads it up. While we had many lovely volunteers today - our volunteers who were to be man-ing the cotton candy stand did not turn up [I think they were overwhelemed by the pressure of the whole situation]. My boss came up to a group of us @ the registration table and asked - kinda jokingly - does anyone want to learn to make cotton candy? Well, of course I did! Unravelling the mysteries of carnival food is infinitely more interesting than registration, coordination and admin stuff. That belief is probably why I'm such a successful career woman.

So, I learned to make cotton candy. Then I served up dozens and dozens of fluffed up bits of the stuff on sticks to happy [and curious] customers. Apparently, the process of making cotton candy is inherently interesting. I agree. Normally you can't see what they are doing to make it - so it's a bit magical. However, I will let you in on a little secret...cotton candy...is people...IT'S PEOPLE!!! No, just kidding - it's just sugar. Pink-tinted sugar or blue-tinted sugar or whatever...but...just sugar. Sugar goes into a central heating and shaking area - the machine is turned on and that area begins to spin. Then - as if from heaven - suddenly gossamer bits of candied floss begin to appear. You can trap them on the stick and use them to make more...and oh - there will be more and it will be everywhere. Once the cotton candy appears things move really quickly and suddenly you're overrun with the stuff. Without even knowing it I had a film of cotton candy over my glasses, my sweater and my hair. Mmmmm - sticky. And yet, I didn't really mind being sticky - it was for the kids!

[here I am rather slyly and shyly making the cotton candy. fabulous shot of a ttc bus in the background. i had some stiff competition from the popcorn dude to my right - but sugar is always more popular!]



And now I have an amazing skill if I ever want to run off and become a carnie/join the circus [which I would obviously never do as I boycott all circuses]. The carnie part though is a definite possibility. I could perform as the moustached lady as well.

Day Two Hundred and Thirty-One - After School Special

When I was growing up my elementary school was three doors down from my grandparents' house. As a result I spent a lot of time there - before school, after school, on days off, etc. I enjoyed spending time with my grandparents, even though they were never the most active people ever [Joseph's grandparents are quite the contrast]. Perhaps because they were not the most active people. I liked latch-hooking and watching game shows with my grandpa and I liked cross-stitching and gossiping about everyone with my grandma. It's good to see where I get my love of inactivity from - it's clearly inherited. I guess my grandma wasn't the typical grandma as I don't remember her serving me up some freshly baked cookies or really any kind of baked goods [unless it was Christmas because then we got shortbread and that seafoam candy stuff]. What she did serve me as an after-school snack was full cans of Coca-Cola product and freezing cold chips [freezing cold because she kept them in the freezer].

But there's no reason why I can't enjoy a tasty after-school snack the traditional way, even though I'm officially old. So today I had a snack of chocolate milk and cookies - for dunking. Please see below.



I guess this really isn't such a big deal. I'm just not much of a dunker apparently [witness my recent inaugural doughnut dunking operation]. This was shaping up to be a rather tasty experience...however...all of a sudden I smelled something off [with my super powerful nose - it is my super power] - the milk. Out came two "bits" of...something? And yeah, that was that. Milk is pretty gross, to be honest. Joseph assured me that it was just bits of cream, but I couldn't bring myself to finish drinking it. Cookies are always enjoyable though. They are so not a sometimes food.

Day Two Hundred and Thirty - Olde Time-y Villain

As a girl - I am not terribly girlie. Sure, I have long hair [that I used to try to keep dyed in fresh and unnatural colours until I apparently stopped caring], I wear makeup and I wear dresses and high heels a lot. I think I also have what one might describe as a girlish or womanish figure - curves and everything. I have rarely been mistaken for a boy, although I think that androgeny is a really cool look. It's not really one I can pull off successfully [I also can't pull off any other cool looks that I like]. When I had my old, old glasses and I wore them with a baseball hat my friend Claire would tell me that I looked like David Letterman. While I love David Letterman, I don't think that's much of a compliment, although my fragile adolescent self didn't seem to mind [shocking, I know]. Well, today I was inspired by my friend Cristina's little boy who apparently insisted on leaving the house with a drawn in moustache two days in a row a couple of weeks ago. So today - a rare Monday off work I gave myself a moustache. Check it out.



Honestly, I think I look pretty cute [okay, cute for no makeup and unbrushed hair]. Okay, maybe not cute...but...something? I kept it on all day as I was sorting out four loads of laundry in the bedroom and kept catching myself in the big mirrors. Maybe this could be a new look for the summer? Or like, different kinds of moustaches? I must admit, I don't like them very much on men so maybe women are due to have more success with this look.

Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Nine - Junkie

I have been having some exciting stomach problems for pretty much the entire week. So, it's Sunday and it's time to get things back on track. I could do this by being healthy and stuff...but honestly I think I do eat reasonably healthy most of the time [with my indulgences in pizza, french fries and ice cream put aside]...and healthful just doesn't seem to be working. So, throwing caution to the wind I ate junk food all day. Truthfully, I didn't each very much all day due to some stomach issues - but everything I ate was not part of a balanced diet.

This morning I was up and atom @ the Bata Shoe Museum and I was so darn excited about my first-ever weekend shift that I completely forgot to eat breakfast [I did drink coffee]. I starved my way through my shift until Joseph came to meet me to get a treat. He suggested JFL or sushi or even pizza...but I decided to go with my gut and get the ice cream. Mainly because I feared that if I ate sushi or juice or pizza I would not have room for ice cream. That just couldn't be. So we went to Baskin-Robbins and I got a double scoop - world class chocolate and chocolate and peanut butter [of course]. It was so delicious. Then my stomach was full, but also kinda hated me a lot. I went home to play vidya games in an attempt to work off the ice cream. Then, instead of dinner Joseph and I decided to eat a bag of tortilla chips with the tasty guacamole below. It was very garlicky and very citrusy. I think I killed the subtle avocado-ness. Oooops. However, @ the end of the day I was able to get to sleep a little bit easier than in many previous nights [due to bad stomach things a-happening].

[Additionally - I've started sleeping under Japanese robes. not a blanket, sheet or duvet. I find this recent development to be wonderfully pretentious and annoyingly quirky.]

Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Eight - Ole!

I'm not sure that I have sufficiently complained about this fact - but my local grocery store has an absolutely miserable selection of fresh fruits and vegetables. So, when they put items on sale it generally means that they got in some extra large shipment and they just might be good enough to eat [if eaten within 24 hours]. This is what happened this week with the mangoes and shockingly enough...avocadoes. I think avocadoes are my favourite fruit ever. Is it even a fruit? Anyway, I bought two avocadoes and used them both up today when I made guacamole. I even took a photo, even though it does not look particularly appetizing. I can assure you that it was.



I used to really enjoy Mexican food [okay, Tex-Mex] when I was younger and had a stronger stomach. However, these days I am violently allergic to jalapeno peppers so I eat Mexican food very sporadically these days and only @ places that I trust. Therefore, I'm always apprehensive about getting guacamole, even though I love it. Thankfully it's super easy to make - given that you have access to some nice avocadoes. Unfortunately, I got a little overzealous while adding the cayenne pepper and slipped and added way too much. I always underestimate its power and the power of my clumsiness. Dangerous. I was able to correct this by adding lots more lime. Which made it a bit too citrusy, but still highly edible and very addictive.

[I found the picture of the mango. You can't see its cute fat kissing bird shape though. Ataulfo mangoes are smaller than the red/green ones - and should be entirely yellow - just for reference.]

Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Seven - Watch Out Lou Dobbs...

For the Ataulfo mangoes are invading! Hailing from Mexico these fruits are considered the champagne of all mangoes. They are cute as pie and look kinda like plump little animated birds [kissing if you have two mangoes] if you look @ them in the proper fashion. Anyway, after far too long slogging my way through clearly inferior mangoes [although they were always lovingly prepared for me by Joseph - as I don't know how to make mangoes] today I had my first Ataulfo mango. I did have a photo of Joseph's non-alient fingers lovingly preparing our first Ataulfo - however I am an idiot and I deleted all of the photos off of the small memory card [correction - here is the photo!].



So, in the absence of a photo - allow me to explain the Ataulfo. The main thing that sets them apart from the mangoes that are kinda Christmasy [red and green] is that they are less fibrous. Therefore, way less stringy-ness to get stuck into your teeth. In addition, another feature that I enjoyed was less juicy-ness. I know what you're thinking - why, that sounds quite awful, please elaborate. Thank you, I will. The other mangoes are so juicy that the juice gets everywhere - and the juice stains everything. I really enjoyed the Ataulfos - they taste more citrusy than the other mangoes and less sweet [again, I know this mind sound like a bad thing - but the other mangoes are too much like candy for my non-sweet tough]. Dee-licious. I shan't be going back to the other inferior mangoes.

Day Two Hundred and Twenty Six - A-S-S-H-O-L-E

I want to say that today's thing started off when I ripped off a cab driver this morning but that's not entirely true. I think it started when I got dressed and generally a big gussied up. I will be completely honest - I love wearing business suits - whether they are Hillary Clinton pantsuit style or with a cute dress [but not too cute] or with a miniskirt [as part of my ongoing series - a Salute to Miniskirts, of course]. They make me feel badass. I know that most people like a work environment where they don't have to get dressed up - I am quite the opposite. I mean, I'm not enough of a preppy/yuppie [in part due to lack of moneys] to dress this way when I'm not @ work - but then I like to be very casual and often with a healthy amount of decolletage and shirts that say rude and/or clever things on them. But - for work - I like to feel important - like I am more than the sum of all the crummy bits of my life. A business suit is like a mask that I can slip on and instantly become a more confident and badass person [it hides the real me with the lack of real job, house, other material items, other non-material items]. So why not present the best you possible?

This morning I was feeling rather fierce [thanks Tyra] in my pinstripe suit [it has a vest/corset type thing that makes it extra good] and my lovely flat, straight hair and good make-up. I think I let it go to my head because today I was an asshole all day. In addition to ripping off the cabbie [it was his fault - he couldn't change a $20 so I could only give him $10 - I have gone to make change on other days] I also closed an elevator door on someone, I sneaked into line @ a Starbucks ahead of people who were waiting before me, I smushed a bug [normally I set them free or just let them be], I put a cup that still had liquid in it into a public rubbish bin [ewww], I let my bag and Starbucks cup have its own seat on the subway [but had to relent when a couple with a stroller motioned for me to move it] and I left a bunch of items @ Zellers sitting under the price checker thing instead of taking them back to where they belonged. So yeah...I'm an urban a-hole.

In my defence - doing all of these things I was forcing myself to go outside my comfort zone - I would normally never do these things. However, I've worked my share of retail/customer service jobs - I dealt with many-a a-hole in my day. I didn't really get anything out of being an a-hole [like, it didn't improve my life in any way] - which makes me think that most people are blissfully unaware that they are jerks, since it really offers no inherent reward. Realizing that helps me to not take personally all of the crummy things people routinely do. I stand by my previous statement - when I die - on my tombstone I want written - My Name: Surrounded by A-Holes [because @ no point in my life do I see this not being true].

Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Five - The Secret Garden

As much as I don't really like going outside unless absolutely necessary, one of the many things I miss about my old house was the garden. We had full, private use of the backyard and garden for three summers. Although we BBQ-ed rarely due to raccoon attacks and we never had people over - I miss the garden. The flowers I was very "meh" on, but I loved growing my own vegetables. It was a source of fascination and great interest to me. Of course, each year we were overrun by tomatoes and other things - but that was always a great feeling. Especially when contrasted with these days when...I got nothing. Most days I feel like I live in a basement apartment, actually.

However, in the city green spaces tend to happen in the most unusual places. One such space surrounds the entrance/exit to my subway stop. This area has been taken over my community garden people and this week in particular the flowers have been particularly beautiful and fragrant [and not in an allergic way - it's a fine line for me]. Normally I appreciate them while cruising on by, but today I was so taken in by a really lush smell that I just had to - I stopped and smelled the flowers. I'm no good @ identifying flowers, so I can't tell you what it was that smelled so good, although I was able to locate it. The garden has grown really full and tall - it's really spectacular [my camera is still without a protective case so no photo - I will try next week]. So much so that I was moved to send an email of appreciation to the people who maintain the garden. I wanted to let them know that, as someone without their own green space, their garden really brightens my day before and after heading into the un-green subway [although it often has many interesting smells]. I got a quick response from the garden people and they have invited me to join them on a future Sunday...which I just might do, depending on my levels of social anxiety.

Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Four - Peace, Man

I don't regularly wear any kind of jewellery. Nothing that hasn't been punched through me with a piercing needle thing, that is. I find those more difficult to remove, so they stay in forever. I find jewellery to be a bit of a pain and also makes me feel slightly claustrophobic. Even if I were to get married, I probably wouldn't wear a ring everyday. However, today while volunteering @ the Bata Shoe Museum I was struck by the rare beauty of a ring worth all of $2. Yes, I do quite love things that are tacky - it's really my signature style. The price was right and I had to have it so I purchased a mood ring. And I'm still wearing it. Although it is in the shape of one of my most personally disliked form of shoes [the flip flop], I still think it's nifty. Please enjoy my creepy alien fingers below.



During the late 80s/early 90s the whole 60s hippie vibe came back into fashion and all of us cool cats were adorning our NKOTB tshirts with classy peace signs [one of my peace sign necklaces was beyond gigantic - it looked like I ripped it off the hood of a Mercedes] and also wearing mood rings. Mine was a big clunker of a thing [I'm seeing a theme here] and it was always this hideous gray-ish black colour. The ring was too big for my creepy thin alien fingers [so I padded it out with yarn I think - so classy] and as it was "gold" also turned my finger green. While I accept the fact that this ring will also turn my finger green - it changes colour much more easily and is set in silver. Mostly it seems to vary between a deep purple and a pretty teal green. While wearing the ring @ the museum I sold a box and a half of them to visitors. Turns out my creepy alien fingers are attractive enough to turn me into quite the salesgirl!

Peace, man!

Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Three - THIRTEEN!!!

Today is a bit of special day as I say goodbye a TV show that has helped to keep me sane these past few months [yes, TV really is that important to me when it's done well - you can make fun of me if you want] and it's also marking the first day that I'm posting a photo to my blog. I realise it's too late now - but many people who read this don't know what I look like - and I'm curious to see if they would be able to guess. Oh well. I will say that in the future I won't be posting many pictures of myself - more of the things that are my extraordinary things - but today's is inexplicably linked. Please know that I hate being photographed.

But yes, today was the series finale for Rome. I know, it really ended ages ago, but I'm both Canadian and poor so I had to wait for our History Network to pick up the series. As a big fan of Ancient Rome - I couldn't have been more pleased with the series - everything about it was amazing. To celebrate the finale and to give it praise [not bury it] I thought it would be fitting if I wore a toga.



As you can see - it is not the traditional white of a senator's toga. The only white sheet we had was a fitted one, so that was a no go. Joseph wrapped me in the toga - we tried a couple of different styles - both made me look heavier than what I am, but Roman women were most likely a lot more sturdy than I, so it's appropriate. Togas were worn in a number of different colours - largely determined by one's class and while I'm not entirely sure they had red and blue 70s flower print [my parents got these sheets as a wedding gift in 1970-something]...I'm more than sure that I would have been a dirty pleb. Also, please note how much hotter I would be if I were wearing some Roman gladiator sandals that are quite in fashion these days.

Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Two - Autism Walks

Normally I don't do too much with my Sundays - especially my Sunday mornings. This is a good time to sleep in, to eat nice Marmite on toast and to catch up on any episodes of DOOL or The Daily Show/Colbert Report that I have missed throughout the week. It's strictly a pajama time. Today was different as I set my alarm, got up, showered and put on a pretty summer skirt and went outside into the insane heat and humidity for some do-gooderism and exercise. Well, kinda exercise.

That's right, for keen and observant blog readers today I participated in the Walk Now For Autism. I managed to raise $300 for Autism Speaks - which is great for them...except I don't work for them [and I work to raise money for our organization, so...duh]. I wanted to volunteer myself for this so that I could get to know some of my co-workers a little bit better and to do something - many of our events are just too expensive for me @ this point in time, but I wanted to show my dedication. The walk involved everyone from Geneva Centre wearing black tshirts with snazzy new Geneva Centre branded red/black sling backpacks [which all the hip young kids have these days, even though they hold nothing...and like, negative nothing compared to my gigantic Invicta backpack] as well as red wristbands or headscarves. The walk was 3 kilometres long...which, yes - is highly pathetic. In my defence, it is criminally hot out [and I'm wearing black and a backpack - thus creating a nice amount of sexy backsweat]. And I'm criminally lazy.

One of our clients and mother saw us walking with our nifty banner and the young boy immediately ran up to the people he knew and he ended up carrying the banner and leading us on. That really speaks to the type of work done @ the centre and how much the people that work with our clients really mean to them. [yeah, I nearly cried - I'm a mushball]

Day Two Hundred and Twenty-One - Hippie Hippie Shake

As promised tonight I drank wheatgrass. Trust me, I did mention this before when I tried royal jelly. I have long been scared to try wheatgrass because I thought that it was like human Drano and might result in a potentially highly embarassing situation in a rather public space like a restaurant or the subway. As a result, I did some research and found out that while wheatgrass is great for your kidneys, blood and liver and boosting your immune system - it likely won't mess you up too badly. I tried the wheatgrass shake @ JFL as I was super excited with their updated menu.

Called the Singing Grasshopper the shake contains mango, peppermint, banana and agave as well as the juiced wheatgrass [which you can also do shots of if you are feeling extra hardcore]. Despite my initial reservations this drink almost immediately rocketed to the top of my list. When our drinks arrived my sensitive sniffer was in high alert and I started freaking out a bit "what smells like lawn?" I asked. It was my drink. It smelled like lawn and looked like a regular mango shake garnished with perhaps a shot of that You Can't Do That On Television slime [or Nickelodian slime for my American friends]. I was a little alarmed. Fearlessly I drank on [as is the custom with my people - we've never seen a drink that we didn't try @ least once]. Mmmmm - amazing. It tasted like lawn. In a good way. Like when the Gap came out with their original GapScents way back in 1995 and they had the one that smelled like grass. Yeah, like drinking that.

Day Two Hundred and Twenty - Not Quite How I Remembered It

Yes, I was a fine arts student and yes, I still hold out the faintest of hopes that maybe someday someone might employ me in that field. And while I have travelled a bit in search of le art [that's French], there are some milestones I have not achieved. Up until this evening the only art exhibition opening that I had been to was for my friend Seth, when he was a visual arts student @ York University. It was pretty cool as I totally knew the artist [I'm an insider] and I'm pretty sure there was candy. Also, the art was good [and I don't wear friend or love goggles even if the artist is someone I know - like Seth or Joseph]. Part of me is pretty ashamed that I've never gotten it together enough to be invited to some fancy art opening...until now, that is. As tonight I attended an art exhibition opening. Truthfully, I was volunteering so I didn't exactly get myself invited so much as I was working...but it was free to the public anyway.

I could gush about the exhibition - it is really wonderful. And yes, I've been totally smitten with most everything @ The Power Plant. Perhaps the best news is that due to a grant [I think?] the gallery is open to the public - all free, all summer. Their admission prices are very low anyway, but now it's free...so Toronto you officially have no excuse not to get out there and absorb [ummm, not literally] some quality contemporary art. The exhibition features a number of different artists from all around the world examining events, narratives and cultural artifacts from our recent history through re-enactment and reconstruction. I feel I'm not doing the exhibition any justice with my crummy words [which might be why I can't get a job], so please visit the gallery's website for more information. Also, it's on the waterfront - so really, who doesn't love that? In addition to the art being fabulous, the opening also featured cheap-ish drinks and hot dogs. Mmmm - art.

Day Two Hundred and Eighteen - Ice Ice Baby

It's about to become unbearably hot in my fair city - very likely by tomorrow. This will bring about more headaches [migraine episode today] and a bitch-osity of me that is very rarely seen. With each passing year I become more and more angry with summer and more fond of winter. True, summer has lots of interesting things like baseball and maybe roller coasters or something. Therefore, I have to be proactive in developing strategies to deal with the oncoming onslaught of humidity and insane heat and the push/pull of summer social things.

Without shame, I dig Starbucks. I mean, I guess I'm still a little ashamed, but I really like Starbucks - just the regular coffee drinks and sometimes a Chai Soy Latte and lots of delicious treats, too. However, obviously right now is not the time for hot coffee. I was, however, spurned onwards to Starbucks on West Queen West today after being called a hipster on the bus. To prove that I'm no hipster [and perhaps signifying that I am a douchebag with a laptop] I drank an iced coffee from Starbucks. Just regular coffee, served ice cold...with ice. And apparently some gigantic and fat straw that made me feel terribly self-conscious and Freudian. Joseph recalls that one of his first experiences with coffee was when he stayed @ a friend's house when he was little and his parents had a big jug of coffee in the fridge and he thought it was fan-tastic [however until he met me, he did not drink coffee]. It really is beyond tasty. This particular cup of iced goodness was my reward for a job well done for The Power Plant [delivery girl again] and also caused my heart to race like cra-zay and prevent me from sleeping until around 3:30am - so, in conclusion - good times.

Day Two Hundred and Seventeen - Jackets Required

When I was growing up we had potatoes practically every single day. The only real alternative was when we would have spaghetti. Otherwise, it was mashed potatoes, boiled potatoes, scalloped potatoes [mmmmm], baked potatoes, BBQ-ed potatoes...and yes, even riced potatoes [because we never had rice...okay, sometimes Minute Rice]. We were a family bound together by our love for carbs. Eventually though, I got extremely sick of potatoes in all forms. With the exception of the mashed potatoes in my university dining hall and insane amounts of french fries - I cut potatoes almost entirely out of my life. My mum still finds this quite shocking and she's always wondering what I eat for dinner [since I don't eat meat either].

Recently though I have been allowing potatoes back in a little bit. I make something called Potato Surprise which is oven-roasted potatoes and other vegetables with balsamic and seasonings served on couscous. I also make awesome non-fried spicy fries in the oven. Tonight I decided to go all simple and I made baked potatoes. I actually had to look up on Wikihow to figure out how to make them. Heh. When they were cooked through I cut them open and fluffed them out - put in butter and sour cream and topped with [fake] bacon bits. It was a thing of beauty - like something out of a TGI Fridays advert. I've been successful in making far more exciting dishes, but these baked potatoes kinda thrilled me.

Oh yes, in England baked potatoes are called jacket potatoes [maybe only with filling - I'm not sure]. I find this insanely adorable. In my brain I have a whole episode going on with potatoes in jackets playing jazz in some smoke-filled underground bar.

Day Two Hundred and Sixteen - Spin Off

During my festive time of unemployment [and partial employment] I have been able to reconnect with one of my cheesefest-iest shows of love - Beverly Hills 90210. The 4pm airtime was perfect for an hour of unwinding after a hard day of looking for jobs and they were airing later seasons that I had not really seen, so it was all cake. These days I can only see about 2.5 episodes a week, instead of the daily regimen - but it's something I still try to do. Today I was out doing some paid work for The Power Plant and, vaguely concerned about the time - I got home just in time for a little 90210 - or so I thought.

I turn on the TV and instead of "da ne ne ne - chh chh" [with fist pump] it was...something brand new - Melrose Place. Now that I'm an adult [well, legally - this often has no bearing on my actions and thoughts] I feel that maybe I am capable of moving on from teenage drama to adult drama so I watched Melrose Place. After all, it's not really the red-headed stepchild of 90210 [there were far crappier versions of the theme] - it might be okay in the same way as BH. Well, it's only just okay. I admit that it takes more time to get into soap drama type things - an ensemble of characters with crazy backstories, lots of relationship things...and general craziness - it's a lot to absorb in one hour [daily soaps do the catch-up thing so much better]. Things I liked: a redhead named Sydney accused of murder and goes cra-zay, her crazy sister taking off her wig to reveal crazy brain surgery scars and then @ the same time getting it on with an amnesia guy [apparently this is some famous Melrose Place scene], lots of awful early 90s fashion, Heather Locklear! and Darren Star's unmistakably BH 90210-esque plaintive guitar wails of angst/lust/injustice/justice/anger/whatever other emotion.

So yeah, while it's not quite appointment TV - I feel like if I had more time to get into it, I could quickly become a superfan.

Day Two Hundred and Fifteen - Figgy Pudding

At my previous job, there was always free food floating around [ummm, not literally]. We ordered in food for clients and there was always leftovers [except one time my client group were wolverines]. I started to really take it for granted and I was bored silly with catering food - no matter how nice it was. However, I'm so lazy and I loved never having to make my own lunch and other assorted free treats. These days, in my current job the food is a little less plentiful. On occasion food does show up though - but it seems infinitely more mysterious to me as I'm not involved in ordering it and I'm not sure who is eating it first.

Today I went into the kitchen early this morning [the work kitchen] and there was a plate of assorted things - really, really tiny muffins [like, so so tiny] in assorted flavours, strawberries and dried...items. Normally, my food neophobia serves me well and I am very reluctant to try anything new - when I don't know what it is and where it came from [this strategy serves rats well and I figure they must be doing something right to have such a fantastic survival rate]. I took the items back to my desk for closer inspection and only after tasting them did I realize that I ate dried apricots and figs. So gross. Both of them. The flavour of the apricots is lovely, but the texture is so fleshy and wrong. Like biting into someone's arm. The figs? Well, I had no clue what it was. Actually, even after tasting it - I thought figs...but wasn't sure until I did a Google Images search. Yup - those are the culprits. So...seedy. Though, I do enjoy regular figs so I'm not sure what's happening.

Day Two Hundred and Fourteen - The Braidy Bunch

Another thing that me and my mum have in common [aside from our love for the TV program Dallas] is that we have no interest in my hair. My mum might be interested enough in her hair, but thankfully she's never cared much for mine. Sure, she prefers my hair to be long and she did cry when I got my first real haircut @ age fourteen. But, she never gave me too hard of a time when I subjected myself to about a zillion failed spiral perms or when I dyed my hair every colour under the sun. She also didn't make me endure hairstyles that I didn't like - including braids. I only liked braids if they were used as a means to achieve Princess Leia style hair danishes [which was a look I did indeed rock for much of the 80s]. One of my good friends while I was growing up, Jennifer - she could do her own French braids and she was a figure skater and I thought that these two things combined were very cool [because I couldn't do either]. So one time me and my mum signed up for a braiding night course thing...about 5 minutes into it I became very annoyed @ being touched and my mum lost her patience with the whole braiding thing. We forfeited the course fee, walked on out of there [yes, 5 minutes in] and got huge ice cream cones. I won't lie - I never regretted this decision and the ice cream was obviously so awesome that I still remember it almost 20 years later.

Now that I'm older I still don't do much with my hair. I wash it every now and again, I brush it once a day...and that's about it. I have a couple of signature hairstyles that I call "ears" - there are a few variations on this. It was a style I invented while trying to write a paper super late one night my first year in university and my wet hair was bugging me. All variations are supercute. But other than that and a ponytail, I don't do anything with my hair and I never use any hair products [other than shampoo/conditioner]. The other day I saw some older girl [because I'm still not yet a woman] wearing her hair in braids, kinda Anne of Green Gables style. I think this is an acceptable look for slightly crunchy type chicks [which I'm not]...but I decided maybe it was time to revisit braids. So today I wore my hair in braids all day. I had never braided my own hair, so just getting my hair into this style was a bit of a struggle and almost required a third hand. The results were mixed - I liked having my hair out of my way and not brushing against anything and Joseph thought it was supercute...but honestly I think it more resembled Snoop Dogg [remember when rappers started wearing their hair in real braids - not cornrows?] than anything girlie and did not do any favours to my face shape. Joseph clearly sees through love goggles.