No, I didn't go to some magical region in France and recieve some enlightening tutelage. But I did make a sandwich, and I did learn a lesson.
Yesterday, while grocery shopping between the Great Plunging Disaster of '09 - as it henceforth shall be known - and dinner, I decided to buy some Dijon mustard. Now, I mean REAL Dijon mustard, as in, it comes in a jar; as in, it doesn't have that little red French's flag anywhere on the label. I have a thing for mustard; I don't eat it often, but when I do, I prefer mustard the way it was meant to be. Not some watery solution with mustard powder and Yellow Dye No. 16. It comes from my grandparents who still do everything Old World European-style, so I like mustard that comes from a jar.
So as I mentioned, I made a sandwich, today for lunch, a turkey sandwich, and I decided to give this new Dijon mustard a crack. I took two slices of soft, fresh country grain bread, a couple slices of turkey meat, and, since I don't like a dry sandwich, and since I so much enjoy real "Old World" mustard, I applied some Dijon to the bread liberally. I took a bite. I chewed and tasted. It was delicious. Then fire came up my throat and out my nose.
I coughed.
I choked.
I sputtered like a dying automobile.
I breathed out through my mouth and reached for my glass of water.
I gulped furiously.
"WOW." I whispered hoarsely, for lack of ability to make any other noise.
That was great!
I took another bite. And with each successive bite, I threw flames across the room like that little dragon from the late '90's Playstation game Spyro. Each bite was an adventure in itself. It much reminded me of a similar experience I had with a frankfurter with mustard while having lunch with my brother on the front steps of the British Museum long ago. But as much fun as it was, chewing with my mouth open to allow the gases from the sulphites to escape via a path less painful than my nasal passage was less than enjoyable. And the one time I kept my mouth closed and swallowed immediately had more dangerous results, leaving my chest with a searing pain for a minute or two.
Lesson learned: beware of how much Dijon you use. Be frugal with it; a little goes a long way.
Though I'm sure every now and then a Dijon-flame experience can be fun too. ;)
Ciao,
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Adventure No. 6
The roller-coaster rides of the day will never cease, you just gotta roll with them, and hang on tight.
Today began quite nicely with a delicious brunch. After a giant chocolate-and-banana filled crepe, and some intelligent conversation (no, not with myself), I made my way down to Nathan Phillips Square (which I keep calling Charles Clark Square for [not so] obvious reasons) and skated to my Beatles playlist for about an hour or so. About halfway into said skating session, a group of school children on a field trip came on the ice, and I glided around amongst the kinders and their families, as well as some adults who were learning to skate. All in all, it was a picture perfect Christmas skate. I went for a walk around downtown, and came home in a festive mood, only to find my toilet clogged.
Well, luckily for me, I know plumbing well enough to know that you do not flush a clogged toilet with your fingers crossed in hopes that it will magically un-clog itself. You grab a plunger, as unbecoming as that is. Well, I've never owned a plunger, so I was grateful that the wretched little toilet got clogged during regular business hours, and I made my way down to my neighbourhood hardware store to buy one. One plunger, a can of Drano, some shelf brackets, and a hazelnut latte later, I returned home to face my nemesis.
Now, plunging is not a pleasant activity, as you might have guessed, but at least it's a rather simple procedure. Simply place the plunger in the toilet, get a good seal around the drain, and plunge. However, when you have one of those crazy oval-shaped toilets that were so fashionable in the '90's, like I do, a regular round plunger doesn't really get a good seal. In fact, it leaves three slight air holes: one at the top right, one at the top left, and one at the bottom of the drain. Well now, this doesn't only result in a poor seal; imagine what happens when 160lbs of grown man pushes with all his force (that equals quite a bit of pressure by the way, any physicists want to figure that one out?). It equals air, as well as dirty toilet water, spraying all over. And by spraying I don't mean a few drops go splashing, I mean, spraying. Like a fountain that's being powered by one of those pressure washers you see people cleaning their driveways with.
Anywho, after an hour of plunging, an hour of scrubbing the floor on my hands and knees with a scrub brush, and twenty minutes of scrubbing my body in a hot shower, things were back to normal. Except that by that time it was after seven o'clock, and I still hadn't eaten. That was when I realized, oops, I had no food to eat anyway. Time for grocery shopping.
But after all that was said and done, and my tummy was full, I curled up on my bed by the fire and the Christmas tree, and watched some Christmas specials on CBC (although the term "Christmas special" is a misnomer for the genius that is Merry Christmas Mr. Bean).
And soon, I will be asleep. So what I had here today was a Monday sandwich: some really miserable things sandwiched inbetween some really great experiences. What can I say? That chocolate-banana crepe was amazing.
Ciao,
Today began quite nicely with a delicious brunch. After a giant chocolate-and-banana filled crepe, and some intelligent conversation (no, not with myself), I made my way down to Nathan Phillips Square (which I keep calling Charles Clark Square for [not so] obvious reasons) and skated to my Beatles playlist for about an hour or so. About halfway into said skating session, a group of school children on a field trip came on the ice, and I glided around amongst the kinders and their families, as well as some adults who were learning to skate. All in all, it was a picture perfect Christmas skate. I went for a walk around downtown, and came home in a festive mood, only to find my toilet clogged.
Well, luckily for me, I know plumbing well enough to know that you do not flush a clogged toilet with your fingers crossed in hopes that it will magically un-clog itself. You grab a plunger, as unbecoming as that is. Well, I've never owned a plunger, so I was grateful that the wretched little toilet got clogged during regular business hours, and I made my way down to my neighbourhood hardware store to buy one. One plunger, a can of Drano, some shelf brackets, and a hazelnut latte later, I returned home to face my nemesis.
Now, plunging is not a pleasant activity, as you might have guessed, but at least it's a rather simple procedure. Simply place the plunger in the toilet, get a good seal around the drain, and plunge. However, when you have one of those crazy oval-shaped toilets that were so fashionable in the '90's, like I do, a regular round plunger doesn't really get a good seal. In fact, it leaves three slight air holes: one at the top right, one at the top left, and one at the bottom of the drain. Well now, this doesn't only result in a poor seal; imagine what happens when 160lbs of grown man pushes with all his force (that equals quite a bit of pressure by the way, any physicists want to figure that one out?). It equals air, as well as dirty toilet water, spraying all over. And by spraying I don't mean a few drops go splashing, I mean, spraying. Like a fountain that's being powered by one of those pressure washers you see people cleaning their driveways with.
Anywho, after an hour of plunging, an hour of scrubbing the floor on my hands and knees with a scrub brush, and twenty minutes of scrubbing my body in a hot shower, things were back to normal. Except that by that time it was after seven o'clock, and I still hadn't eaten. That was when I realized, oops, I had no food to eat anyway. Time for grocery shopping.
But after all that was said and done, and my tummy was full, I curled up on my bed by the fire and the Christmas tree, and watched some Christmas specials on CBC (although the term "Christmas special" is a misnomer for the genius that is Merry Christmas Mr. Bean).
And soon, I will be asleep. So what I had here today was a Monday sandwich: some really miserable things sandwiched inbetween some really great experiences. What can I say? That chocolate-banana crepe was amazing.
Ciao,
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Adventure No. 5 - Hooray for good life choices.
So today, having the day off from both jobs (finally) I took the opportunity afforded to me to do a little Christmas shopping, or rather, to get started Christmas shopping. *gulp* I caught a streetcar headed for downtown and did some wandering around. Eventually I found myself at the Eaton's Centre, even though I absolutely dispise malls (they're right up there with racism, famine and war), but I don't really know of any other places to do my Christmas shopping in this city, yet; hopefully next year that will change.
Well after a few hours of wandering up and down the floors, heading down to the bottom level only to realize the store I wanted to go to is on the upper level, I actually found quite a few good gifts for those who are near and dear to me. But after all that meandering, and after a good chunk of my pocketbook was eaten by the over commercialization of my favourite holiday season, I decided it was time to go home and make some dinner. So I hopped on a streetcar headed back home.
While I was on the streetcar, watching the city float past me (and occasionally glancing at my reflection to check how the curl in my bangs was holding up) I started thinking long and hard, and while I was thinking, I had another one of my epiphanies. This move I made, this giant leap from Windsor up to the Big T. was one of the best decisions I've ever made for myself. I realized that I am a big tree and Windsor just did not offer me enough space for my roots to grow to their full potential; Toronto does. I realized that in this giant megalopolis of millions of people, of thousands of houses and offices and streets, that I have the world proverbially at my fingertips. I have the ability to make myself smile simply by walking down a bustling street lined with shops and lights, full of people and taxi cabs. I can jump on a bus, streetcar, or subway train and travel the length and/or width of this expansive city all with just a flash of my Metropass (which now occupies the same space my debit card used to). I have the power and the opportunity to do basically whatever it is I want to, all because of this great environment I am now in.
I think I deserve a pat on the back for making this decision. Yay.
Ciao,
Well after a few hours of wandering up and down the floors, heading down to the bottom level only to realize the store I wanted to go to is on the upper level, I actually found quite a few good gifts for those who are near and dear to me. But after all that meandering, and after a good chunk of my pocketbook was eaten by the over commercialization of my favourite holiday season, I decided it was time to go home and make some dinner. So I hopped on a streetcar headed back home.
While I was on the streetcar, watching the city float past me (and occasionally glancing at my reflection to check how the curl in my bangs was holding up) I started thinking long and hard, and while I was thinking, I had another one of my epiphanies. This move I made, this giant leap from Windsor up to the Big T. was one of the best decisions I've ever made for myself. I realized that I am a big tree and Windsor just did not offer me enough space for my roots to grow to their full potential; Toronto does. I realized that in this giant megalopolis of millions of people, of thousands of houses and offices and streets, that I have the world proverbially at my fingertips. I have the ability to make myself smile simply by walking down a bustling street lined with shops and lights, full of people and taxi cabs. I can jump on a bus, streetcar, or subway train and travel the length and/or width of this expansive city all with just a flash of my Metropass (which now occupies the same space my debit card used to). I have the power and the opportunity to do basically whatever it is I want to, all because of this great environment I am now in.
I think I deserve a pat on the back for making this decision. Yay.
Ciao,
Friday, November 20, 2009
Adventure No. 4: Taking the good with the bad
Well, my great daycare job has turned out to be not-so great after all. Unfortunately, I'm being used like it's nobody's business, as a janitor, as kitchen staff, and as accident clean-up crew, instead of actually working with the chlildren. If that's one injury to take, another is the fact that, since my coworkers treat me as a subordinate instead of an equal member of the team, the children don't take me seriously, nor do they respect my authority, which can result in absolute mayhem at times. I also don't agree with some of the actions of my coworkers, like telling a crying child to "Put your tears away."
But, it's all part of the process of getting settled; I'm sure it will take me some time to find a great job out there.
On the bright side though, I'm loving my coworkers from my other (my first) job. Tonight I worked a closing shift... on a Friday night... until 11:30... not exactly easy to take. BUT, in an act that counteracted all the badness that occurred today, we all went out for beers at a pub across the street after work. I got to fraternize and kibitz with my colleagues, and really had a nice time. At least I can be thankful for one of my two jobs, or, at least for the people I work with there.
Ciao,
But, it's all part of the process of getting settled; I'm sure it will take me some time to find a great job out there.
On the bright side though, I'm loving my coworkers from my other (my first) job. Tonight I worked a closing shift... on a Friday night... until 11:30... not exactly easy to take. BUT, in an act that counteracted all the badness that occurred today, we all went out for beers at a pub across the street after work. I got to fraternize and kibitz with my colleagues, and really had a nice time. At least I can be thankful for one of my two jobs, or, at least for the people I work with there.
Ciao,
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Adventure No. 3: The time is upon us.
So right now, I'm eating homemade cinnamon buns, listening to Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters belting out my favourite Christmas tunes, and online comparison shopping for Christmas trees that will actually fit in my 7' high apartment. Life is good; this is exactly how I know it's finally Christmas time people, because I'm hearing Christmas music, and tapping my feet, rather than grinding my teeth.
Ah, soon, the crisp smell of the first snow will fill our nostrils, we can curl up by the fire with a warm drink, and marvel at how just a few pieces of coloured glass and some LED lights on a tree can make a home warmer than ever, or maybe that's just the wine...
'tis the season!
Ciao,
Ah, soon, the crisp smell of the first snow will fill our nostrils, we can curl up by the fire with a warm drink, and marvel at how just a few pieces of coloured glass and some LED lights on a tree can make a home warmer than ever, or maybe that's just the wine...
'tis the season!
Ciao,
Monday, November 9, 2009
Adventure No. 2: "How to get a new job" or, "When post-secondary education finally pays off"
WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! WOOOOOOHOOOOHOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! There, just needed to get that out of my system. Today was my very first day working as a full-fledged Early Childhood Educator, ever... and it came quite suddenly too, might I add.
This morning started out with me staring bleary-eyed at my phone ringing beside my bed at the (not-so) ungodly hour of a quarter-past seven, trying to decipher what exactly the caller ID meant by displaying the name of a childcare centre I had been at for an interview last week. By the time I realized this meant the centre was actually calling me at that very moment, and probably for something rather important, it was almost time for my voicemail to kick in and pick it up. Then I had a split-second argument with myself - should I pick it up? If I do, I'll have my groggy morning voice. If I don't, I just may be missing the call of a lifetime. Opportunity wasn't knocking, she chose the much less conventional, yet more convenient option of calling my ass out of bed. So, I answered, just in time.
I was greeted not by the supervisor of the centre (I thought that rather odd) but by one of the workers, asking me if I could fill in for a short 12-2 shift to cover while they have a meeting. I stammered in disbelief.
"Ya, uh, yes, of course, I'd love to. But can I? You do know I don't have all my paperwork filled out yet?" And apparently it was okay, according to the supervisor, so long as the paperwork gets done by Friday. Okay. That I can do. No problem. Nix the grocery shopping, the banking, the trek to city hall to get a parking permit, the shoe shopping so I have somthing without holes to cover my feet, and the million-and-one other errands I planned on running today, and go work at a daycare for a couple hours. Get the other stuff done after. Not a problem. "Okay, I'll see you then."
So I get myself ready, have a good wholesome breakfast, a really good cup of strong coffee, spruce myself up, and make the forty-minute commute on the subway to this amazing centre.
Not more than half-an-hour into the shift, and the supervisor comes in and asks me if I'm willing to stay until six. One of the other workers is going home sick.
"Sure!" I say emphatically. Okay. This I can do. I don't have a lunch, or a water bottle, and I'm already kinda thirsty. Today was supposed to be my day off, and I still have all those errands to run, and I have to pee, but really, for this kind of pay, and the foot in the door, it's totally worth it. Besides that, I'm already loving it here. I still have tomorrow before work at the bookstore in the evening for the errands. It's all good. I've managed more before, and it'll all be good.
The day goes by. I jump right in head-first, serving lunch and snack, conducting storytimes, helping out at the arts and crafts area, and facilitating problem solving - almost the whole gamut (there are no diapers because these kids are kindergartners, thank god). Soon, the supervisor comes in again, checks on how things are going, and asks if I can come in tomorrow from 8:15 - 2:30. I seriously can feel glee rising up from within me.
"Of course! That'd be great." I say with a massive display of my pearly whites. All the while the little secretary inside of me who manages my agenda is saying, "You have work at 5:30 tomorrow, you're cutting it pretty close to overbooking. Watch yourself there." (she has an auburn beehive hairdo, white rhinestone horn-rimmed glasses, a nasally voice, and sits at a vintage Steelcase desk with an Arne Jacobsen chair) So I check myself, and realize I can't commit to anything more tomorrow after this. There go the groceries, and the errands, but what the hey, for that money, the groceries are already paid for!
So the day wears on. The kids are sweet, the staff is friendly and supportive, and the parents are all pleased to meet me. "So nice to see the men in this field." they say. Six o'clock hits and I'm dismissed. I drag my tired sack of bones to the subway station (not before visiting the other Subway for an easy supper - hey, I deserve it, besides, there are no groceries at home!) I call Mom and give her the good news, ask about how Dad's first day went, and agreed that we need to mark this day on the calander as a good one for the Ouellette's - it's been too long since we did that. Finally (yet I don't know how I did it physically) dragged myself to the grocery store and home (though I did take the streetcar home, even though it's only from one stop to the next), got a lovely call from a long-time friend of mine who's in grad school at Duluth now - ya, that's Wisconsin (or is it Minnesota?), a text from one of my best friends in Windsor, and a hilarious email from the Julia Child soufflé-master I spoke (wrote?) of last time. And now here I am, up past my bedtime, running only on the focus of getting my words written out and posted up. Then I will crash. And it can start all over again tomorrow. So that's how the world works.
In the long run, the moral of this story? Stay in school kids. If you do, you'll get to work two jobs, have no time to buy food, and spend the time you should use for sleeping blogging on the internet. But hey, it beats standing in a breadline, right? (Do they even have those anymore?)
Ciao
This morning started out with me staring bleary-eyed at my phone ringing beside my bed at the (not-so) ungodly hour of a quarter-past seven, trying to decipher what exactly the caller ID meant by displaying the name of a childcare centre I had been at for an interview last week. By the time I realized this meant the centre was actually calling me at that very moment, and probably for something rather important, it was almost time for my voicemail to kick in and pick it up. Then I had a split-second argument with myself - should I pick it up? If I do, I'll have my groggy morning voice. If I don't, I just may be missing the call of a lifetime. Opportunity wasn't knocking, she chose the much less conventional, yet more convenient option of calling my ass out of bed. So, I answered, just in time.
I was greeted not by the supervisor of the centre (I thought that rather odd) but by one of the workers, asking me if I could fill in for a short 12-2 shift to cover while they have a meeting. I stammered in disbelief.
"Ya, uh, yes, of course, I'd love to. But can I? You do know I don't have all my paperwork filled out yet?" And apparently it was okay, according to the supervisor, so long as the paperwork gets done by Friday. Okay. That I can do. No problem. Nix the grocery shopping, the banking, the trek to city hall to get a parking permit, the shoe shopping so I have somthing without holes to cover my feet, and the million-and-one other errands I planned on running today, and go work at a daycare for a couple hours. Get the other stuff done after. Not a problem. "Okay, I'll see you then."
So I get myself ready, have a good wholesome breakfast, a really good cup of strong coffee, spruce myself up, and make the forty-minute commute on the subway to this amazing centre.
Not more than half-an-hour into the shift, and the supervisor comes in and asks me if I'm willing to stay until six. One of the other workers is going home sick.
"Sure!" I say emphatically. Okay. This I can do. I don't have a lunch, or a water bottle, and I'm already kinda thirsty. Today was supposed to be my day off, and I still have all those errands to run, and I have to pee, but really, for this kind of pay, and the foot in the door, it's totally worth it. Besides that, I'm already loving it here. I still have tomorrow before work at the bookstore in the evening for the errands. It's all good. I've managed more before, and it'll all be good.
The day goes by. I jump right in head-first, serving lunch and snack, conducting storytimes, helping out at the arts and crafts area, and facilitating problem solving - almost the whole gamut (there are no diapers because these kids are kindergartners, thank god). Soon, the supervisor comes in again, checks on how things are going, and asks if I can come in tomorrow from 8:15 - 2:30. I seriously can feel glee rising up from within me.
"Of course! That'd be great." I say with a massive display of my pearly whites. All the while the little secretary inside of me who manages my agenda is saying, "You have work at 5:30 tomorrow, you're cutting it pretty close to overbooking. Watch yourself there." (she has an auburn beehive hairdo, white rhinestone horn-rimmed glasses, a nasally voice, and sits at a vintage Steelcase desk with an Arne Jacobsen chair) So I check myself, and realize I can't commit to anything more tomorrow after this. There go the groceries, and the errands, but what the hey, for that money, the groceries are already paid for!
So the day wears on. The kids are sweet, the staff is friendly and supportive, and the parents are all pleased to meet me. "So nice to see the men in this field." they say. Six o'clock hits and I'm dismissed. I drag my tired sack of bones to the subway station (not before visiting the other Subway for an easy supper - hey, I deserve it, besides, there are no groceries at home!) I call Mom and give her the good news, ask about how Dad's first day went, and agreed that we need to mark this day on the calander as a good one for the Ouellette's - it's been too long since we did that. Finally (yet I don't know how I did it physically) dragged myself to the grocery store and home (though I did take the streetcar home, even though it's only from one stop to the next), got a lovely call from a long-time friend of mine who's in grad school at Duluth now - ya, that's Wisconsin (or is it Minnesota?), a text from one of my best friends in Windsor, and a hilarious email from the Julia Child soufflé-master I spoke (wrote?) of last time. And now here I am, up past my bedtime, running only on the focus of getting my words written out and posted up. Then I will crash. And it can start all over again tomorrow. So that's how the world works.
In the long run, the moral of this story? Stay in school kids. If you do, you'll get to work two jobs, have no time to buy food, and spend the time you should use for sleeping blogging on the internet. But hey, it beats standing in a breadline, right? (Do they even have those anymore?)
Ciao
Friday, November 6, 2009
Adventure No.1
Life is full of changes; no one can argue against that.
No one can argue either that my life is not full of changes. For the past few years my life has been flipped, bounced, ripped apart, and shoddily glued back together, only to come apart again.
And here I find myself now, putting it back together again, this time with a little more care and concern, and a great deal more support. I'm living in a big, bustling, exciting city full of opportunity and inspiration, in an amazing apartment with great landlords - all which just a short time ago were too far away for me to even dream about.
Things are going well now, finally. My father has a new job, after losing the family business of 31 years this past summer. I now live a few blocks away from one of my dearest friends of many years. I also have more promise and opportunity to land on my feet and make a name for myself - not just as an artist or a professional, but as an adult. I no longer have to live on a student budget, and in time, I'll be able to afford a comfortable lifestyle without worrying about if I can afford groceries next week or not.
I'm also very excited for the future; a relatively new concept to me. I'm excited that this is the point in my life where a new adventure awaits me around every corner, that now I can explore and experience many new things with a joie de vivre, that I have the ability to go anywhere and do almost anything I desire. It's about freaking time!
Tonight I went to the cinema around the corner from my apartment. A great little locally run place - the Revue Cinema on Roncesvalles Ave. - that has the atmosphere of an old cinema, and a wonderful sense of community. It allows you to enjoy the movies the way they were intended to; the way I remember seeing movies before the days of the megaplex on the outskirts of town, before everything was owned by Cineplex Odeon. I went to see Julie & Julia, and I was completely endeared. It was such a sweet harmonization of two completely different people leading uncannily similar lives, one of whom, Julia Child, I have admired for many years. I found it quite profound in its inspiration; for starters, I really want to try making Boeuf Bourgingnon (I have been meaning to make a good stew lately), and secondly, I decided to blog. Not just to purge my thoughts, not because I think or hope it will lead to a movie or book deal, but just to record my meomories as they happen. To hold on to some part of time before it whizzes past me all together. So now I'm sitting here with a glass of Pelee Island Late Harvest Vidal 2008 (which I opened quite resourcefully with a screw and a pair of pliers [thanks wikihow] due to my apparent and afore unnoticed lack of a corkscrew), Dvorak on the radio, and blogging.
It was a very good friend of mine who first convinced me I should see Julie & Julia because of his feelings toward the movie (he went out and bought soufflé dishes and Mastering the Art of French Cooking after seeing it). I've realized lately that there's a lot I hold back from telling my good friends, for reasons that are difficult to explain, and that possibly, letting a little more of my personal life out into the public realm might help me overcome those irrational fears. Maybe not; we'll see.
So for now, I'm happy, in this very moment and overall with my life, I'm happy. And I think I'll leave it at that for now, since it's such a novelty for me.
Until next time,
Ciao
No one can argue either that my life is not full of changes. For the past few years my life has been flipped, bounced, ripped apart, and shoddily glued back together, only to come apart again.
And here I find myself now, putting it back together again, this time with a little more care and concern, and a great deal more support. I'm living in a big, bustling, exciting city full of opportunity and inspiration, in an amazing apartment with great landlords - all which just a short time ago were too far away for me to even dream about.
Things are going well now, finally. My father has a new job, after losing the family business of 31 years this past summer. I now live a few blocks away from one of my dearest friends of many years. I also have more promise and opportunity to land on my feet and make a name for myself - not just as an artist or a professional, but as an adult. I no longer have to live on a student budget, and in time, I'll be able to afford a comfortable lifestyle without worrying about if I can afford groceries next week or not.
I'm also very excited for the future; a relatively new concept to me. I'm excited that this is the point in my life where a new adventure awaits me around every corner, that now I can explore and experience many new things with a joie de vivre, that I have the ability to go anywhere and do almost anything I desire. It's about freaking time!
Tonight I went to the cinema around the corner from my apartment. A great little locally run place - the Revue Cinema on Roncesvalles Ave. - that has the atmosphere of an old cinema, and a wonderful sense of community. It allows you to enjoy the movies the way they were intended to; the way I remember seeing movies before the days of the megaplex on the outskirts of town, before everything was owned by Cineplex Odeon. I went to see Julie & Julia, and I was completely endeared. It was such a sweet harmonization of two completely different people leading uncannily similar lives, one of whom, Julia Child, I have admired for many years. I found it quite profound in its inspiration; for starters, I really want to try making Boeuf Bourgingnon (I have been meaning to make a good stew lately), and secondly, I decided to blog. Not just to purge my thoughts, not because I think or hope it will lead to a movie or book deal, but just to record my meomories as they happen. To hold on to some part of time before it whizzes past me all together. So now I'm sitting here with a glass of Pelee Island Late Harvest Vidal 2008 (which I opened quite resourcefully with a screw and a pair of pliers [thanks wikihow] due to my apparent and afore unnoticed lack of a corkscrew), Dvorak on the radio, and blogging.
It was a very good friend of mine who first convinced me I should see Julie & Julia because of his feelings toward the movie (he went out and bought soufflé dishes and Mastering the Art of French Cooking after seeing it). I've realized lately that there's a lot I hold back from telling my good friends, for reasons that are difficult to explain, and that possibly, letting a little more of my personal life out into the public realm might help me overcome those irrational fears. Maybe not; we'll see.
So for now, I'm happy, in this very moment and overall with my life, I'm happy. And I think I'll leave it at that for now, since it's such a novelty for me.
Until next time,
Ciao
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