No Dress Rehearsal. This Is Our Life.
Today we went to the first home game for Toronto FC. We went with GH and Kavita and despite the chilly temperature, thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. It was fantastic! I am definitely hooked, despite the fact that we lost. Again. 0-4 to open a season is not a good omen for what’s to come, but these are the first four games for these players as a team, so I’m not writing them off.
Post-game we went for drinks and snacks at the Bier Markt, making up for last night. 
Tonight, as we do every Friday night, Leah and I went out for dinner. But for a change of scenery, we headed into the city. Our original plan was to have dinner at The Bier Markt, but the wait was 50 minutes, so we decided to wander up to Front Street and hit Spring Rolls. One the way, we cut through an alley and caught a glimpse into a neat looking restaurant… so we decided to try it.
That turned out to be a good decision as dinner was excellent! The restaurant is called Izakaya and features a fun assortment of Japanese dishes.
The room, ambience, service and, of course, the food was fantastic. I would, we would definitely recommend it.
An interesting bit from today’s Globe and Mail:
You tell yourself
My heart is broken.
Science tells you
Brain imaging studies have shown that romantic rejection hurts like physical pain. Helen Fisher of Rutgers University proved that the same circuits of grey matter are triggered whether you have broken up or broken a leg.
Your buddies tell you
You need a rebound.
Science tells you
It might just help. According to Louanne Brizendine, author of The Female Brain, the only surefire way out of the “brain pain” of relationship loss is to trigger a dopamine and oxytocin high – through sex.
Cat Stevens tells you
The first cut is the deepest.
Science tells you
First love really does leave an impression. A University of California, Berkeley, student found the first romantic relationship has a greater impact on an adult’s love life than any other influence, including parenting.
Your mom tells you
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Science tells you
Human beings suffer from romantic withdrawal just like they do from drug withdrawal. Lucy Brown of the Albert Einstein College of Medicine in New York showed people pictures of their romantic partners and noticed immediate stimulation of brain areas responsible for reward and motivation.
Hollywood tells you
Opposites attract.
Science tells you
If you want to make sure he’s the one, get a DNA test. Researchers at the University of New Mexico analyzed the major histocompatibility complex of 48 heterosexual couples who had been together for at least two years. The more similar a woman’s MHC was to her partner’s, the more likely she was to be attracted to other men.
Cosmo tells you
Girls dig the bad boy.
Science tells you
There is a reason women are drawn to emotionally unavailable men. Dr. Brizendine says females are wired to interpret an emotionless face as a signal they’re doing something wrong, and to work harder to get a response.
Last week, I finally placed my feet in Chicago. For some reason, it’s a city I’ve always wanted to visit. So, when a writing workshop in Chicago came up I jumped at the chance to attend.
I arrived in the windy city to a blizzard! Yes, a blizzard in April…yuck! This put a hold on my big plans to take a bus tour of the city. But as an avid shopper, I quickly put on my hat and popped open my umbrella for a walk down Michigan Avenue. Along the Magnificant Mile I had my first experiences with Bloomingdale’s and Victoria’s Secret. Lovely! Later in the day I even walked down to the Marshall Fields (now Macy’s) that apparently had Tiffany windows. Interesting building, though the windows didn’t look like much. Perhaps I need the blue box to get the full Tiffany effect
The fog was incredible. I called Chris and said, “I feel like I”m in a Batman movie.” It was so low, and so thick. It added interesting ambiance to the John Hancock tower and the beautiful Tribune and Wrigley Buildings.
I managed to take a brief poke around the Art Institute. Wow! It’s an amazing building with an amazing collection. I gazed at their impressionist collection for a while, puttered around the Frank Lloyd Wright stuff (fantastic windows) and even found “American Gothic”. It was weird to look at the original work of something you’ve seen around in one form or another.
Other highlights were the deep-dish pizza, the trolley tour of the city (loved the cruise down lake Shore Drive), Garrett’s popcorn, and getting on a early flight home! Yes, I’m a gooey girl and I missed all the comforts of home…especially the good night kisses.
Spend any time with me and you’ll quickly learn that I love Harry Connick jr. Maybe it was all those year’s listening to jazz wafting out of my grandpa’s bedroom door, or maybe it’s the depth of the music itself – whatever it the reason, I have been hooked on Harry since his “Blue Light Red Light” cd came out. Give me songs he’s composed (take “Jill” for example, an early favourite) or just songs he sings (“A Wink and a Smile” tops the list) and I’m a happy girl.
As Chris said, I was VERY excited about the concert last Saturday. You’ve already read some of the highlights (set, intro, etc.) and I’m not sure I can add much more to really capture what it’s like to watch him play. I guess it’s like watching anyone do something they love…you can’t help but get caught up in their passion. Harry is no exception. Great piano player, wonderfully smooth voice, and he’s even funny!
What really made the night special was sharing the experience with my sweetie, and having him like it too – a lot. Now instead of me telling him how great Harry is live, we can remember the experience together.
We had planned to make yesterday a day for us – doing things to spoil ourselves.
We had scheduled a couples massage and manicure at the Pantages Spa; and then dinner at The Keg followed by seeing Harry Connick Jr. in concert at The Hummingbird Centre.
We booked our spa session through WaySpa.com and received a confirmation message and email explaining what would happen, when to be there, etc.
We arrived at the spa 25 minutes prior to our 3pm appointment, with our confirmation email in hand. Unfortunately the girls working the counter at the spa could not find our reservation, and were unwilling to do anything to help us. Their only suggestion, “Call in on Monday between 9 and 5.”
After some heated words, they suggested that we talk to the manager/owner of the spa, and they sent us to go and find her. (In my opinion, they should have found her for us…). Surprisingly she was no where to be found!
We eventually called WaySpa and the reservation agent Nadine looked up our appointment and confirmed that it was booked at the spa. She even called the spa, but as with us, they simply said, too bad, so sad, buh bye.
In the end, we were left on the cold side of the door with 4 hours to kill in downtown. We ended up having a milk shake at Fran’s, and wandering through the Eaton Centre.
At 5pm we headed to The Keg. We like The Keg, but I remembered that the last time I was there I ordered the New York Peppercorn steak and when it arrived at the table, it was covered in mushrooms. I hate mushrooms. The menu does not indicate that there are mushrooms in the meal.
Before ordering I repeatedly questioned the waiter and warned him that I do not want any mushrooms. If it has mushrooms, I’m sending it back.
Guess what happened? The plate arrived with a few mushrooms in the sauce. The waiter is very embarrassed. By this time, we do not have time to wait for them to remake my meal, so I scrap the sauce off and deal with it.
Now, the steaks were fine, but the mushroom issue was just another downer on the day. Thankfully the waiter recognized that we were unhappy, and brought us our a piece of my favourite dessert, the Billy Miner Pie, on the house. This certainly lifted our spirits.
Off to the show we go. Leah is excited. Very excited.
We take our seats – dead centre, 15 rows back – just about perfect!
The curtain goes up and the band breaks into an instrumental medley of classics and Harry-hits! Harry is not on stage. The set is a steamy club in New Orleans, complete with gas lamps and slowly rotating ceiling fans.
After 15 minutes, Harry comes on stage and rips into the first song. I’ve never seen Harry perform before, but I will certainly not miss him when he comes to town again.
I’ll let Leah fill in the review of the show, but suffice to say, it was great!
The owner of the company next door to ours, took his dog to the vet today. While sitting in the waiting room, a couple came in with their Daschund, looking for a refill on a prescription that the vet previously issued them. (The couple are new Canadians from Poland and their grasp of English is limited at best…)
The vet did not remember issuing them a prescription, so he asked some probing questions:
“What was the prescription for? What was wrong with your dog?”
“It was for his skin. You told us to get it at Shoppers Drug Mart. We got it, and have given it to him every day as directed. He does not like it at all, but we have made sure to give it to him. His skin did get better, but he had terrible diarrhea. When the prescription ran out, his diarrhea stopped, but we do not want the skin condition to come back.”
This response confused the vet greatly. As the couple did not have an appointment, he did not have their file ready. After a few minutes he returned with their file and said, “I did not give you a prescription last time you were here. I told you to go to Shoppers Drug Mart and buy a shampoo for dry skin!”
Why is Al Sharpton involved?
Why is this newsworthy?
Al Sharpton is a media whore. Nothing more. And he has somehow parlayed being an outspoken jack ass into full time gig! I can’t stand the guy. He parades around, with cameras and reporters in tow, like he’s a god. Just because he continually tells you that he is against racism and social injustice does not mean that he is neither racist nor willing to take advantage of his social status. (“you” = generic citizen that has made Al Sharpton famous.)
Leah is away on a work trip; maybe that’s what’s really gotten me all riled up?
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So I decided to add a bit more to this post – copying directly what was posted by some Tragically Hip fans on a discussion forum:
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If, by the title of this thread, you don’t know who Don Imus is and what the uproar is all about, then you’ve done a bang-up job of avoiding the media for the past few days. Google his name and you’ll quickly be up-to-speed
The coast-to-coast fervor over this story is ridiculous, but not surprising.
I have heard many say that Imus’ remarks reflect the ever-present ignorant and racist attitudes that contaminate our society. I contend that the uproar itself, not the ill-advised attempt at shock-value humor, is what is truly indicative of the continuing racial disharmony in this country.
I’m not going to defend Imus’ remarks, because the term “nappy-headed hos” should never be uttered on public airways in reference to a team of collegiate athletes.
But isn’t there a boatload of irony in the branding of a white person as ‘racist’ for using slang that is common and widespread throughout a cross-section of American culture, but one which eminates directly from black culture itself? After all, it’s not just that the rap / hip-hop culture uses these terms freely and without castigation; it’s that the rap / hip-hop culture is specifically responsible for creating them in the first place.
A societal uproar directed at the shock jock whose hackneyed use of these terms in a attempt at cutting-edge humor seems almost hypocritical, doesn’t it?
Does to me.
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Equally hypocritical in my mind is the failure of the mainstream media, willful or in fear of attack by upstanding African-American leaders like Al Sharpton or Jesse Jackson, to report on the rap/hip-hop culture that spawns these attitudes towards women and to black culture at large. There is almost nobody of stature in the media industry attacking the likes of Nelly (who swiped a credit card through the buttocks of woman in one of his music videos) or R. Kelly.
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that is a very interesting point – while he shouldnt be defended for what he said, how does something like this fly in comparison to what he said?:
“Bitches Ain’t Shit”
(feat. Snoop Dogg, Dat Nigga Daz, Kurupt, Jewel)
[Snoop] Bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks…
[Chorus: Snoop (2X)]
Bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick
Get’s the f**k out after you’re done
And I hops in my ride to make a quick run…
[Dr. Dre]
I used to know a bitch named Eric Wright
We used to roll around and f**k the hoes at night
Tight than a mutharfucka with the gangsta beats
And we was ballin’ on the muthafuckin’ Compton streets
Peep, the shit got deep and it was on
Number 1 song after number 1 song
Long as my muthafuckin’ pockets was fat
I didn’t give a f**k where the bitch was at
But she was hangin’ with a white bitch doin’ the shit she do
Suckin’ on his dick just to get a buck or 2
And the few ends she got didn’t mean nothin’
Now she’s suing cuz the shit she be doin’ ain’t shit
Bitch can’t hang with the streets, she found herself short
So now she’s takin’ me to court
It’s real conversation for your ass
So recognize and pass to Daz
[Dat Ni**a Daz]
Now as i’m rollin’ with my ni**a Dre and Eastwood
Fuckin’ hoes, clockin’ dough up to no good
We flip flop and serve hoes like flap jacks
(Snoop: But we don’t love them hoes) Bitch, and it’s like that
This is what you look for in a ho who got cash flow
Ya run up in them hoes and grab the cash
And get your dash on
While you’re chillin’, with your homies and shit
And how my ni**az kick the anthem like this
[Snoop] BEEEYYAAACHHH!
(Chorus)
[Kurupt]
…To the store, to get me a 4-0
Snoop Doggy Dogg paged, that must mean more hoes
So I head down the street to long beach
Just so i could meet, a freak
To lick me from my head to my feet
And I’m here, now I’m ready to be done up
Nothin’ but homies around so I puts my gun up
Bitches on my nuts like clothes
But i’m from the pound and we don’t love them hoes
How could you trust a hoe? [Snoop:] Why? [echoed 3X]
Cuz a hoe’s a trick
We don’t love them tricks [Snoop:] Why? [echoed 3X]
Cuz a trick’s a bitch
And my dick’s constantly in her mouth
And turnin’ them trick ass hoes the f**k out
Now…
[Snoop Doggy Dogg]
I once had a bitch named Mandy May
Used to be up in them guts like everyday
The pussy was the bomb, had a ni**a on sprung
I was in love like a muthafucka lickin’ the protung
The homies used to tell me that she wasn’t no good
But I’m the maniac in black, Mr. Snoop Eastwood
So I figure ni**az wouldn’t trip with mine
Guess what? Got gaffled by one time
I’m back to the muthafuckin’ county jail
6 months on my chest, now it’s time to bail
I get’s released on a hot sunny day
My nigga D.O.C. and my homey Dr Dre
Scooped in a coupe, Snoop we got news
Your girl was trickin’ while you was draped in your county blues
I ain’t been out a second
And already gotta do some muthafuckin chin checkin
Move up the block as we groove down the block
See my girl’s house, Dre, pass the glock
Kick in the do’, I look on the flo’
It’s my little cousin Daz and he’s fuckin’ my hoe, yo
(Bitches ain’t shit)
I uncocked my shit…I’m heart-broke but I’m still loc’ed
Man, f**k a bitch!
[Chorus]
[Jewell]
(Dr. Dre in background “Bitches ain’t shit”)
I don’t give a f**k about a bitch
But i and her know that they can’t fade this
Cause i’m doin my own thingdown with the swang
I’m hangin’ with Death Row like it ain’t no thing
I say you know can’t deal
Cuz I’m a btich that’s real
Motherfucker need to step back, hell yeah
They need to chill
Because I don’t give a f**k
And I don’t give a f**k [x3]
And now I gotta do some…
And now I gotta do some shit that’s clean
But when I’m on a dick, hell yeah, I get real mean
Like a washing machine
I can wash the clothes
All the hoes knows
That i’m on the flo’ ho
But they can’t hang with my type on swang
I ain’t tryin’ to say I suck every ding-a-lang
But just the juicy ones
Witht he tip of the tongue
And then their sprung
With the nuts hung
[Dr. Dre:] Bitches ain’t shit
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This particular example really highlights the essential problem and underlying argument. How is ok for men in the black community to use derading language and have it not braded as sexism at the very least? Why does it become more offensive when the terms are utter by a white man? Is it becaue there is a dual layer of ignorance at work, both based on sex and race?
Ben Folds covered “Bitches Ain’t Shit” on his last tour a number of times. In doing so, he acknowledges the aburdity of *off limits* slang/vernacular. There are few artists who are as obviously and unbashedly white as Mr. Folds. In my opinion, he uses this detail to its fullest advantage to acknowledge such flawed logic [/end sidenote].
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I know it’s almost old news, but I finally got around to getting a pic of the ring I gave Leah. Without any further delay, here ’tis!
OK.
This weekend is my weekend to catch up on all kinds of things that I’ve fallen behind on:
1. Ring pic
2. Wedding plans – started them…
3. Condo changes – rearrange furniture, hang prints, figure out solution for coffee bean bags (more on the last one in another post!)
4. Check my 6/49 tickets!
5. Finishing editing a concert video – I put it off…
6. Go to the AGO – postponed
7. Get a new website set-up: bangkoktobabylon.com (I’m taking over from the current owner/host…)
But before I start in on my list, I need to get Leah feeling better…
So that’s what I’m using this weekend for; what are you doing?