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Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
March 5, 2013
gut instinct (n.)
I remember when I'd get an upset stomach as a child and I
couldn't keep any food down, my mom would make me eat burnt toast and
sip on endless teaspoonfuls of chamomile tea; however, the moment I craved
something (and I recall it once being shrimp gumbo), she'd make me a plate and watch me revel in the tasty mouthfuls. And I'd feel better.
Even if it seemed wrong, giving a child seafood in the midst of food poisoning, she trusted my craving, my gut instinct. And it was right.
I often experience this lingering sensation at the pit of my stomach. Oftentimes - and thankfully - it isn't a stomach bug. Rather, it's a gut feeling that encroaches, ever so mildly, from my stomach up into my throat, a noiseless, weightless clog in the throat.
I listen to it whir inside me, quietly enough that it's difficult to understand, but too loud to ignore. And if I listen intently enough, but ever so passively so as not to mute it out or change its form, it tells me something.
The icky, heavy feeling, the gut instinct, makes us step out of our comfort zone - simply by making us feel uncomfortable.
Countless times, if I listened long enough, it would eventually transform into an increasingly confident voice inside me sharing some kind of worthwhile message - telling me to react in a certain way, notice something, act on something. It's gotten me out of the mundane, the lonely, the empty situations that we often find ourselves in, pushing me to step out into the world and do something new. It's made me book flights at whim; it's made me run for that last train (and I made it); it's made me send in applications, turn them down, and accept them. It's made me say things out loud to others - and it's made me admit things to myself. This gut instinct has often been my impetus to act, fighting the lethargy of my body and the paralysis of my mind.
And it's here again.
Lately, I've been trying to listen to this gut feeling, which is churning inside of me. What I've noticed though - and in retrospect it's probably always been true - is how vague the distinction is between your gut instinct - and anxiety.
For weeks I've felt a lingering anxious sensation, which I've been trying to make my ears more sensitive to in order to better comprehend. I've been seeking this message, the craving of my spirit, in hopes of arriving at what my gut instinct is trying to tell me.
I'm still listening.
Even if it seemed wrong, giving a child seafood in the midst of food poisoning, she trusted my craving, my gut instinct. And it was right.
I often experience this lingering sensation at the pit of my stomach. Oftentimes - and thankfully - it isn't a stomach bug. Rather, it's a gut feeling that encroaches, ever so mildly, from my stomach up into my throat, a noiseless, weightless clog in the throat.
I listen to it whir inside me, quietly enough that it's difficult to understand, but too loud to ignore. And if I listen intently enough, but ever so passively so as not to mute it out or change its form, it tells me something.
The icky, heavy feeling, the gut instinct, makes us step out of our comfort zone - simply by making us feel uncomfortable.
Countless times, if I listened long enough, it would eventually transform into an increasingly confident voice inside me sharing some kind of worthwhile message - telling me to react in a certain way, notice something, act on something. It's gotten me out of the mundane, the lonely, the empty situations that we often find ourselves in, pushing me to step out into the world and do something new. It's made me book flights at whim; it's made me run for that last train (and I made it); it's made me send in applications, turn them down, and accept them. It's made me say things out loud to others - and it's made me admit things to myself. This gut instinct has often been my impetus to act, fighting the lethargy of my body and the paralysis of my mind.
And it's here again.
Lately, I've been trying to listen to this gut feeling, which is churning inside of me. What I've noticed though - and in retrospect it's probably always been true - is how vague the distinction is between your gut instinct - and anxiety.
For weeks I've felt a lingering anxious sensation, which I've been trying to make my ears more sensitive to in order to better comprehend. I've been seeking this message, the craving of my spirit, in hopes of arriving at what my gut instinct is trying to tell me.
I'm still listening.
April 2, 2012
high road (n.)
I got back from a mini trip to Seattle last night and it got me thinking about what it means to take the 'high road' (after having spent 3 or 4 hours on the highway).
I drove Ben down and his coworker, Chris, as they were flying out to Arizona from Sea-Tac for work. We headed down on Friday afternoon and after quickly checking in to our hotel (La la la la la la Quinta..), we headed out for drinks at what is now my favourite pub in Seattle - followed by a lovely dinner at the Palace Kitchen. After a late night of wining and dining, an early morning drive to the airport, and a quick stop (+shop) at Capitol Hill, I headed out on the highway by my lonesome listening to Stadium Arcadium.
I never so passionately hated stupid and/or rude drivers until my car was moving at high speeds on a road shared with them. It's like idiocy is somehow amplified by high velocity - or more likely, my sense of danger becomes more acute when I see an idiot traveling at 70 miles per hour.
Usually, it's Ben who takes the wheel on our longer trips, and I haven't had a car in a few of years now, so driving on the freeway system was a bit new for me. I can count the number of times I've been out on the highway for a long trek before yesterday: 2. (Seattle 2003; Alberta 2004... I really can't think of another). It was a welcome change and I remembered how much I enjoy driving - once I get used to gliding at 110km/hr and merging my way across lanes to get to the suddenly announced ("1/4 mile"-away) exit. And only once I get away from some of the loonies out on the road.
So, let me get to the crux of why I'm posting this: I want to dedicate this entry to all the great, patient, smart, defensive, unwavering, assertive drivers out there - and point my finger at those other drivers, who seem to think they exist in a vacuum (or a tunnel).
By no means is my short stint with the I-5 a warrant for me to be a smart ass - but here are some points from my brief experience. I just want to remind us of those tips we all once learned as newbie drivers, but that many of us seem to have forgotten...the importance of.
If you want to take the high road when driving on the highway DO:
1. Scan your mirrors so that you're aware of and can judge the cars around you: anticipate (unwelcome) moves; watch for reckless driving (and get out of the way); and avoid the surprise of having a car 'sneak up on you' when it emerges from your blind spot.
2. Having said that, stay out of other people's blind spots. If you're going to pass, pass. If you're going to slow down, stay behind, or get in the right(er) lane. Be visible and assertive.
3. Drive at a comfortable, safe, legal, speed. The trifecta of good speed. Don't let cars behind you bully you into speeding up - just get out of the way. But also, don't let slower drivers eat at your patience or tempt you to tailgate.
4. Keep a safe - even extra long - distance between you and the car ahead. That way, if they're leaning on their brake, you're not slamming yours - and risking a domino affect with the tailgating A-hole behind you.
5. Yield and be nice to your neighbour - even (especially) if it's the A-hole; being ahead on the road doesn't get you ahead in life. Take the high road.
If you want to take the high road when driving on the highway DON'T:
1. Think that having a more expensive car makes speeding safer.
2. Pass when the turn is against you.
3. Gorge on a sub while you're driving. Your eyes should be on the road.
4. Race an imaginary race.
5. Tailgate and cut the A-hole off in vengeance. Take. the. high. road.
Happy travels!
 |
| White Horse Trading Company, Seattle, WA |
I never so passionately hated stupid and/or rude drivers until my car was moving at high speeds on a road shared with them. It's like idiocy is somehow amplified by high velocity - or more likely, my sense of danger becomes more acute when I see an idiot traveling at 70 miles per hour.
Usually, it's Ben who takes the wheel on our longer trips, and I haven't had a car in a few of years now, so driving on the freeway system was a bit new for me. I can count the number of times I've been out on the highway for a long trek before yesterday: 2. (Seattle 2003; Alberta 2004... I really can't think of another). It was a welcome change and I remembered how much I enjoy driving - once I get used to gliding at 110km/hr and merging my way across lanes to get to the suddenly announced ("1/4 mile"-away) exit. And only once I get away from some of the loonies out on the road.
 |
| My drive home. (Sunny for the most part..though I hit a rough hail-y, torrential downpour patch. Kinda scary.) @ Peace Arch. |
By no means is my short stint with the I-5 a warrant for me to be a smart ass - but here are some points from my brief experience. I just want to remind us of those tips we all once learned as newbie drivers, but that many of us seem to have forgotten...the importance of.
If you want to take the high road when driving on the highway DO:
1. Scan your mirrors so that you're aware of and can judge the cars around you: anticipate (unwelcome) moves; watch for reckless driving (and get out of the way); and avoid the surprise of having a car 'sneak up on you' when it emerges from your blind spot.
2. Having said that, stay out of other people's blind spots. If you're going to pass, pass. If you're going to slow down, stay behind, or get in the right(er) lane. Be visible and assertive.
3. Drive at a comfortable, safe, legal, speed. The trifecta of good speed. Don't let cars behind you bully you into speeding up - just get out of the way. But also, don't let slower drivers eat at your patience or tempt you to tailgate.
4. Keep a safe - even extra long - distance between you and the car ahead. That way, if they're leaning on their brake, you're not slamming yours - and risking a domino affect with the tailgating A-hole behind you.
5. Yield and be nice to your neighbour - even (especially) if it's the A-hole; being ahead on the road doesn't get you ahead in life. Take the high road.
If you want to take the high road when driving on the highway DON'T:
1. Think that having a more expensive car makes speeding safer.
2. Pass when the turn is against you.
3. Gorge on a sub while you're driving. Your eyes should be on the road.
4. Race an imaginary race.
5. Tailgate and cut the A-hole off in vengeance. Take. the. high. road.
Happy travels!
March 21, 2012
nugget (n.)
So lately, with this cleanse I was on, I've become mildly addicted to baby carrots. As I was sitting at work yesterday, munching away, I came across this:
A nugget, is what one coworker referred to it as. I instantly thought of tater tots and timbits (yes, all yummy carb-loaded foods, hinting at my junk-depraved, detoxed self!)
In either case, it got me thinking about nuggets - not deep-fried, chicken or gold. I'm talking nuggets of time, the nuggets in our lives - those tiny moments and aspects of our everyday that can really add up to quite a bit more than they seem. (The nugget was fun to eat, that's for sure.)
Sometimes, like many of us, we can fall into habit, working the 9 to 5, going through the motions of the everyday routine, that we grow accustomed to it and forget to be grateful for the little things that make up that time. The day is filled (or can be filled) with real nuggets that can knock a boring perspective out and bring in a fresher one. It's really easy to get a case of the it's-greener-on-the-other-side after getting used to something, however great.
I'm finally nearing the end of the school semester.. and will soon be entering the "work zone". The year will no longer end in May and start in September. And when that fine day comes at the end of April, when I submit my thesis and all the grades for the courses I'm TAing for, I'll be starting full-time work. Before that happens, I want to indulge in the joys of my varied schedule and my 4-day week. But I also want to reflect on all the great things I'm looking forward to when I start working for a salary. I'm doing this, lest I forget 6 months from now, how excited I am for my change of pace.
Before novelty becomes habit, I want to make sure I will always remember to take a sweet little bite out of the nuggets that make up my life, regardless of what time I'm waking up, how much money I'm making, how late into the night I'm working to make a deadline, etc.
So, there you have it folks: my nugget list*
* This definitely is an incomplete list...an exercise to recognize the beautiful things in my life, of which there are more I'm sure...
And just before I sign off, a couple more weird pictures of my deformed carrot friend:
A nugget, is what one coworker referred to it as. I instantly thought of tater tots and timbits (yes, all yummy carb-loaded foods, hinting at my junk-depraved, detoxed self!)
In either case, it got me thinking about nuggets - not deep-fried, chicken or gold. I'm talking nuggets of time, the nuggets in our lives - those tiny moments and aspects of our everyday that can really add up to quite a bit more than they seem. (The nugget was fun to eat, that's for sure.)
Sometimes, like many of us, we can fall into habit, working the 9 to 5, going through the motions of the everyday routine, that we grow accustomed to it and forget to be grateful for the little things that make up that time. The day is filled (or can be filled) with real nuggets that can knock a boring perspective out and bring in a fresher one. It's really easy to get a case of the it's-greener-on-the-other-side after getting used to something, however great.
I'm finally nearing the end of the school semester.. and will soon be entering the "work zone". The year will no longer end in May and start in September. And when that fine day comes at the end of April, when I submit my thesis and all the grades for the courses I'm TAing for, I'll be starting full-time work. Before that happens, I want to indulge in the joys of my varied schedule and my 4-day week. But I also want to reflect on all the great things I'm looking forward to when I start working for a salary. I'm doing this, lest I forget 6 months from now, how excited I am for my change of pace.
Before novelty becomes habit, I want to make sure I will always remember to take a sweet little bite out of the nuggets that make up my life, regardless of what time I'm waking up, how much money I'm making, how late into the night I'm working to make a deadline, etc.
So, there you have it folks: my nugget list*
- The feeling I get in shavasana after sweating it out in yoga class, my body hot, tired and oh so happy.
It's naturally sweet! - Walking home from work on a Friday evening in late spring, looking forward to the dinner plans I have.
- The taste of that first Americano after a two-week cleanse...or just in general :)
- Laying in the sun in the summer on a weekday, because the day is just so long.
- Getting together with my lady friends and laughing my butt off with them as we drink wine and eat sushi or hot pot or cake or...
- Sitting down at the Naam or some equally yummy establishment with my ma after a long Saturday morning walk.
- The feeling of the warm wind in my face while rollerblading with Ben around the seawall.
- The smell of Bengal spice tea while I catch up on my favourite shows late into the night, exhausted after a yoga class.
- Morning cuddles when you don't have to get up. Even if it's by yourself wrapped in a comfy duvet :)
- The smell of baking at home during the holidays and eating all the extra batter off the bowls with my mom.
- Finding a really great piece of clothing, on a massive sale, andbuying it within minutes without fuss.
- That first sip of beer in the village after a long day ofsnowboarding where I'm still warm and tired.. followed by a greasy beef burger and fries.
- The feeling I get when I read something I've written and I actually really like it.
Always get the poppy-seed dressing, though. - The dinner portion of random date nights with Ben that we don't really plan, where we just wind up hopping between places to have drinks/appies/dinner/dessert to drag out our meal.
- Boarding a plane.
- Watching the geese at Granville Island after not having been there for a long time.
- The moment I look up from my work and out the window of my favourite coffee shop. [Bojangles, Brioche...]
- Feeling how sweaty my pants are (lol) after a super night of dancing where I hit the right buzz the whole night and came home sober.
- The moment we hit the highway to start off a road trip.
- The smell of a salty sunscreen-y bathing suit.
- Putting lotion on my skin after a long day at the beach.
- Being out on the town after a very productive day.
It sure is beautiful - Waking up to the smell of crepes in the morning.
- Finding a letter or postcard in the mail.
- Picking up drinks on my way to watching the hockey game at a friend's place - and realizing it's still light out.
 |
| Bojangles cafe |
* This definitely is an incomplete list...an exercise to recognize the beautiful things in my life, of which there are more I'm sure...
And just before I sign off, a couple more weird pictures of my deformed carrot friend:
March 13, 2012
make up (n., v.)
I don't have a particularly messy apartment. So when it comes to spring cleaning, for me it's really about 2 things:
1. Getting rid of stuff I don't need.
2. Cleaning myself up. That means: revamping my diet so it's healthier, becoming more active, and generally drinking loads of water, vitamin C, and echinacea and garlic so that I stay immune to everything that's in the fine spring air.
This year, I've decided to take my spring cleaning to a new level by merging 1 and 2: Rather than purely going on my cleanse, I've decided to also get rid of something that we, ladies, really don't need: make up.
Today, I'm on day #3 and I'm feeling cleaner already. I must also add that it ain't all that bad. My eyes are a little sleepy as there isn't any mascara to stretch my lashes open (+ I'm not drinking coffee...) but otherwise, I'm feeling alright - if not, the same. It's also very refreshing to be able to come out of a yoga class without raccoon eyes.
I'm hoping that by doing this, I'll get to reflect a little about what I'm really made of, both literally and figuratively speaking. It's kind of like an ego detox of some sort, I guess. Plus, it cuts down my morning routine by a whole 5 minutes!
Of course, I know that I'll be returning to my regular 'programming' within a couple of weeks. This is a spring cleaning challenge and not a life-altering decision after all. This isn't about principles or making a stance on what beauty is; rather, it's a challenge to be a little more real, consume a little more of what's real, and feel like I'm not a made up version of myself.
I'll be back to mascara and blush soon enough (and heck, I'm not really a cosmetics junkie anyway), but I think I'll feel more beautiful then, despite the make up.
Happy cleaning!
1. Getting rid of stuff I don't need.
2. Cleaning myself up. That means: revamping my diet so it's healthier, becoming more active, and generally drinking loads of water, vitamin C, and echinacea and garlic so that I stay immune to everything that's in the fine spring air.
This year, I've decided to take my spring cleaning to a new level by merging 1 and 2: Rather than purely going on my cleanse, I've decided to also get rid of something that we, ladies, really don't need: make up.
Today, I'm on day #3 and I'm feeling cleaner already. I must also add that it ain't all that bad. My eyes are a little sleepy as there isn't any mascara to stretch my lashes open (+ I'm not drinking coffee...) but otherwise, I'm feeling alright - if not, the same. It's also very refreshing to be able to come out of a yoga class without raccoon eyes.
Of course, I know that I'll be returning to my regular 'programming' within a couple of weeks. This is a spring cleaning challenge and not a life-altering decision after all. This isn't about principles or making a stance on what beauty is; rather, it's a challenge to be a little more real, consume a little more of what's real, and feel like I'm not a made up version of myself.
I'll be back to mascara and blush soon enough (and heck, I'm not really a cosmetics junkie anyway), but I think I'll feel more beautiful then, despite the make up.
Happy cleaning!
February 15, 2012
professing (v.)
Since last September, I've had a position with the university as a Teaching Assistant for a couple of undergraduate courses. This got me thinking about what teaching is all about. As a recent graduate (and current MPub student), I've known I was taught all my life by others. However, all this teaching business over the last four months has me considering what it means to be on the other side of the equation.
The classes I teach in particular are 300-level publishing and design seminars. One is taught in a computer lab where I offer a weekly abundance of design critiques. In the other, I'm namely a facilitator and overseer of student projects.
All this emphasis on guidance, feedback, collaboration, and discussion has helped me conclude that the line between student and teacher is much thinner than we may realize. (I'm sure, however, Aristotle or some equally inspiring Greek teacher has said the same.)
I'm reminded that learning should always be present regardless of role. Being an expert in something or knowing more than someone else does not make you capable of teaching.
If you don't learn about what your students need, you just can't get through to them - and if you don't let them teach you something every now and then, you won't be the best teacher you can be in the long run. (You probably won't be the best expert, either.)
As with many things in my life, it all conceivably comes back to yoga. And food.
Having taken yoga classes for years now, I've learned a lot from my teachers. One thing that stands out (and it isn't 'how to hold a killer asana') is how significant it is to be our own teacher.
The ability to prepare for a challenge and overcome it (perhaps a neat definition of what it is to learn) comes from within - half of the equation is you.
I can listen to prompts from my yoga mat, watch demos, and memorize sutras; but without a willingness to also learn from myself, I profess, I'll learn little of what I set out to. Our willingness to learn and our willingness to teach are kind of one and the same. By recognizing this ebb and flow, I think we'd all be better teachers and students - of ourselves and each other.
It's tough admitting we're always students - if anything, of our own teaching. It's a constant reminder that there's more to learn (about the world and ourselves) and that enough is never enough. However, good teachers also know this, because they face the same difficulty.
We, as students, should be taught the ingredients, the tools and the techniques - what we cook up is up to us. And to continue with this yummy metaphor, as teachers, we should also learn that there are many different tastes.
So, here's to breaking down the dichotomy of teacher and student. If you are taking part in learning (and not everyone does so consciously), I hope you get your fill by being an avid teacher.
All this emphasis on guidance, feedback, collaboration, and discussion has helped me conclude that the line between student and teacher is much thinner than we may realize. (I'm sure, however, Aristotle or some equally inspiring Greek teacher has said the same.)
I'm reminded that learning should always be present regardless of role. Being an expert in something or knowing more than someone else does not make you capable of teaching.
If you don't learn about what your students need, you just can't get through to them - and if you don't let them teach you something every now and then, you won't be the best teacher you can be in the long run. (You probably won't be the best expert, either.)
As with many things in my life, it all conceivably comes back to yoga. And food.
Having taken yoga classes for years now, I've learned a lot from my teachers. One thing that stands out (and it isn't 'how to hold a killer asana') is how significant it is to be our own teacher.The ability to prepare for a challenge and overcome it (perhaps a neat definition of what it is to learn) comes from within - half of the equation is you.
I can listen to prompts from my yoga mat, watch demos, and memorize sutras; but without a willingness to also learn from myself, I profess, I'll learn little of what I set out to. Our willingness to learn and our willingness to teach are kind of one and the same. By recognizing this ebb and flow, I think we'd all be better teachers and students - of ourselves and each other.
It's tough admitting we're always students - if anything, of our own teaching. It's a constant reminder that there's more to learn (about the world and ourselves) and that enough is never enough. However, good teachers also know this, because they face the same difficulty.
So, here's to breaking down the dichotomy of teacher and student. If you are taking part in learning (and not everyone does so consciously), I hope you get your fill by being an avid teacher.
January 10, 2012
connected (adj.)
I've recently taken on the position of managing the websites and social media for a boutique animation studio here in Vancouver (Global Mechanic). What I've found, interestingly enough, is that while it's made me "plugged-in" virtually (literally) every day, it's also made me re-evaluate what feeling connected is.
All in all, I'm trying to make the most of this space that we, as a society, are increasingly looking to for advice, tips, gossip..solace and friendship. It's a beautiful thing really. As I look at my network expanding (LinkedIn tells me I'm only three degrees away from 1.9 million people), I see the amount of people out there with my interests and aspirations...and I find myself looking up to people I don't even know!
I find engaging articles on Twitter and catch up with friends on Facebook. I spend hours at work doing this and then come home and do more of it. What I realized today, however, is that to feel connected to the world as a human being, I gotta disconnect a little bit.
Interstingly enough, what I have to show for it is a smile (yes), a bowl of pomegranate seeds (yum)...and (ironically) this blog entry.
So, here's to staying connected and feeling connected. And maybe next time you grab the phone to chat with a friend you'll avoid doing it through a text message. Just because.
All in all, I'm trying to make the most of this space that we, as a society, are increasingly looking to for advice, tips, gossip..solace and friendship. It's a beautiful thing really. As I look at my network expanding (LinkedIn tells me I'm only three degrees away from 1.9 million people), I see the amount of people out there with my interests and aspirations...and I find myself looking up to people I don't even know!
I find engaging articles on Twitter and catch up with friends on Facebook. I spend hours at work doing this and then come home and do more of it. What I realized today, however, is that to feel connected to the world as a human being, I gotta disconnect a little bit.
Interstingly enough, what I have to show for it is a smile (yes), a bowl of pomegranate seeds (yum)...and (ironically) this blog entry.
So, here's to staying connected and feeling connected. And maybe next time you grab the phone to chat with a friend you'll avoid doing it through a text message. Just because.
November 9, 2011
salad (n.)
This morning, on my third day of my bi-annual detox, I woke to find I was not particularly hungry. I started doing errands, multitasking (I'm good at it but I genuinely hate it), and then 1pm rolled around and I realized I hadn't eaten - anything.
I had finished a few hours of fact checking for Reader's Digest, caught up on my emails, and watched some Lana Del Ray song videos (it waaay too early in the morning to emote to Video Games, I admit). My stomach hadn't grumbled but I felt agitated a bit, so I coerced myself off of my couch and into the kitchen.
There, I decided to make what I dub, a breakfast salad.
As I happily peeled my apple and carrot, grated them into a bowl, then sprinkled flax seeds, raisins, and blueberries on top with a hint of lemon zest, I came to a realization (apart from that I had invented a recipe): My life's been kind of like a salad these days.
My preoccupation (or lack thereof on one too many days) with writing my thesis, has justified my adoption of a crazy number of activities to keep track of (and be too busy to write). I started with a solid bowl, and rather than filling it with something simple, like soup or yogurt, I've decided to cram in as many different ingredients in there as possible.
And it wasn't hard either.
Leading tutorials, grading projects, working, volunteering, consulting on projects, writing for hire, writing for free, writing with angst and frustration, keeping up with family responsibilities, friend responsibilities, girlfriend responsibilities, and self responsibilities, as well as trying to eat healthy, and look for jobs for the new year, was really easy to take on or say "yup" to. Now, at times, I have started to get a wee bit overwhelmed that maybe I'm just doing too much. That if my "life salad" were an artist's palette or a painting, it'd be a piling up of so many different colours that the whole darn thing just looks, well, brown.
But then I think about it in more positive terms and realize that if my "life salad" were actually a real salad, it'd be daaaamn scrumptious! (I'm just getting a little full, that's all.)
I guess, the only way out is to eat it all at once. Can't be picking out ingredients one by one
at this point!
Gonna go do some yoga and get hungry again and start chomping down!
I had finished a few hours of fact checking for Reader's Digest, caught up on my emails, and watched some Lana Del Ray song videos (it waaay too early in the morning to emote to Video Games, I admit). My stomach hadn't grumbled but I felt agitated a bit, so I coerced myself off of my couch and into the kitchen.
There, I decided to make what I dub, a breakfast salad.
As I happily peeled my apple and carrot, grated them into a bowl, then sprinkled flax seeds, raisins, and blueberries on top with a hint of lemon zest, I came to a realization (apart from that I had invented a recipe): My life's been kind of like a salad these days.
My preoccupation (or lack thereof on one too many days) with writing my thesis, has justified my adoption of a crazy number of activities to keep track of (and be too busy to write). I started with a solid bowl, and rather than filling it with something simple, like soup or yogurt, I've decided to cram in as many different ingredients in there as possible.
And it wasn't hard either.
Leading tutorials, grading projects, working, volunteering, consulting on projects, writing for hire, writing for free, writing with angst and frustration, keeping up with family responsibilities, friend responsibilities, girlfriend responsibilities, and self responsibilities, as well as trying to eat healthy, and look for jobs for the new year, was really easy to take on or say "yup" to. Now, at times, I have started to get a wee bit overwhelmed that maybe I'm just doing too much. That if my "life salad" were an artist's palette or a painting, it'd be a piling up of so many different colours that the whole darn thing just looks, well, brown.
But then I think about it in more positive terms and realize that if my "life salad" were actually a real salad, it'd be daaaamn scrumptious! (I'm just getting a little full, that's all.)
I guess, the only way out is to eat it all at once. Can't be picking out ingredients one by one
at this point!
Gonna go do some yoga and get hungry again and start chomping down!
October 21, 2011
stuffed (adj.)
Thanks, October. I'm officially stuffed.
Yup, it's Thanksgiving season, which means pies and turkeys and well, stuffing, galore. This was the first time I didn't spend the holiday with my family and friends, and I gotta say it made me thankful for them even more because they weren't around. They were all out of town - though, admittedly, so was I.
I spent my Thanksgiving (wait for it) in Maple Ridge, at a ranch, with 150 Japanese students and 10 fellow chaperones.
We ate our fill, of turkey (which we kept referring to as "a big chicken") and gravy ("the sauce"); of bread and mashed potatoes (that did a lousy job of replacing the staple of rice). It was our "final feast" after having spent the whole week together.
The group of 13 girls I was responsible for were ridiculously cute and my heart was just so full (stuffed?!) with love for them. They ooh-ed and aww-ed at all these "Canadianisms" that, I, too once had to get used to (cranberry sauce with meat? are you kidding?!) and it reminded me of my first days as a kid in Canada. It was incredibly awesome to see that I had left a mark on them too, just as they did on me:
My girls wrote me the most adorable little letters of thanks, which they handed me as we ate our dessert together than night - along with a ridiculous amount of silly gifts (I have enough chopsticks, origami paper, and pickled plum candy to last me a lifetime).
I
t's very rewarding to learn about a new culture, meet new students, and know that I've really influenced how these kids will remember their first trip overseas, how they will approach new experiences that may scare them -like speaking English or trying stuffing for the first time (which, when they asked what it was, I unfortunately said "it's mixture cooked inside turkey." What troopers!)
Though I've done this a few times before, the whole experience still makes me beam with every new group I take under my little wing. I really think that this cultural exchange gig I do every year is something to be thankful for - I come away from it utterly exhausted, but also very satisfied.
Ah :) I guess, I'm stuffed with turkey as much as I'm stuffed with joy!
I came away so exhausted from working this round that I also found myself bed-ridden the following day + give or take 5 days on top of that... cough, fever, Kleenex, the whole gambit. I've thankfully gotten a lot better (and mustered up the energy to host a dinner for 18 people tonight!) but my nose is still stuffed.
On the bright side (really looking to be thankful here!), being a sleepy hermit for 5 days straight did give me an excuse to take a break from thinking about my thesis for over a week. I just kinda watched 30 Rock a lot and said "stuff it, 13,000 word count!" I've told myself that once my nose de-stuffs, all will be right with the world and I'll be back to thesis-ing.
and finally..My brain is stuffed!
I didn't realize how stuffed my brain was before I took this last week off because I was sick. I had literally gone into overdrive trying to work on my thesis every day (ambitious yes; efficient, no). Thinking about the same ideas all the time and working with an intimidatingly large number of words and reports and files to go through was just kind of making me crazy. The last two weeks have cleared my head and I am so so ready to take on the last two sections of my stupid thesis, (which at this point itself looks pretty stuffed with gibberish and nonsense). Oh well!
Now, off to cook so I can stuff my friends' faces tonight :)
Yup, it's Thanksgiving season, which means pies and turkeys and well, stuffing, galore. This was the first time I didn't spend the holiday with my family and friends, and I gotta say it made me thankful for them even more because they weren't around. They were all out of town - though, admittedly, so was I.
I spent my Thanksgiving (wait for it) in Maple Ridge, at a ranch, with 150 Japanese students and 10 fellow chaperones.
 |
| my stomach: stuffed. |
The group of 13 girls I was responsible for were ridiculously cute and my heart was just so full (stuffed?!) with love for them. They ooh-ed and aww-ed at all these "Canadianisms" that, I, too once had to get used to (cranberry sauce with meat? are you kidding?!) and it reminded me of my first days as a kid in Canada. It was incredibly awesome to see that I had left a mark on them too, just as they did on me:
My girls wrote me the most adorable little letters of thanks, which they handed me as we ate our dessert together than night - along with a ridiculous amount of silly gifts (I have enough chopsticks, origami paper, and pickled plum candy to last me a lifetime).
t's very rewarding to learn about a new culture, meet new students, and know that I've really influenced how these kids will remember their first trip overseas, how they will approach new experiences that may scare them -like speaking English or trying stuffing for the first time (which, when they asked what it was, I unfortunately said "it's mixture cooked inside turkey." What troopers!)
Though I've done this a few times before, the whole experience still makes me beam with every new group I take under my little wing. I really think that this cultural exchange gig I do every year is something to be thankful for - I come away from it utterly exhausted, but also very satisfied.
Ah :) I guess, I'm stuffed with turkey as much as I'm stuffed with joy!
 |
| my nose: stuffed, too. |
On the bright side (really looking to be thankful here!), being a sleepy hermit for 5 days straight did give me an excuse to take a break from thinking about my thesis for over a week. I just kinda watched 30 Rock a lot and said "stuff it, 13,000 word count!" I've told myself that once my nose de-stuffs, all will be right with the world and I'll be back to thesis-ing.
and finally..My brain is stuffed!
I didn't realize how stuffed my brain was before I took this last week off because I was sick. I had literally gone into overdrive trying to work on my thesis every day (ambitious yes; efficient, no). Thinking about the same ideas all the time and working with an intimidatingly large number of words and reports and files to go through was just kind of making me crazy. The last two weeks have cleared my head and I am so so ready to take on the last two sections of my stupid thesis, (which at this point itself looks pretty stuffed with gibberish and nonsense). Oh well!
Now, off to cook so I can stuff my friends' faces tonight :)
September 11, 2011
vacation (n.)
As many of you know, I recently returned from a summer of living in Montreal (MML) while doing an internship at Reader's Digest. It almost felt like it was only a few days ago that I loaded my stuff into a taxi van, slammed the door (or rather, pushed it hard against the oppressive winds of Irene) and flew home to Vancouver.
I say "almost" because five days after landing in Vancouver, sleeping in my old bed and snapping my lips hungrily at fresh BC water (oh, how I missed you!), I was on another plane headed south via Bellingham allll the way to the place where people leave a lot of things behind - namely money, integrity, normal GI levels, and memories.
Vegas.
$ A town whose article we frequently drop because it truly is one of a kind.
$ An artificial city that looks like the Lord Almighty played a simultaneous game of Lego and Lite-Brite.
$ A place where one can't find a grocer, a clock, nor a dirty bathroom (thank god!) but always has plenty of O2, cheap alcohol, and fake sky.
$ A city that offers everything - but if you're smart, not all at once.
$ A place where it takes a long time to get anywhere or do anything (especially make decisions that don't involve pressing a single button that says "Bet" or "Lobby").
$ A place that I thought I'd never want to visit, let alone actually return to.
Sitting on the plane, I was one part excited for the extravagance, and two parts ready to gag at it. Once I got there though I was 100% impressed.
Before I knew it, I refueled poolside by working on my tan lines. It also made me realize that I forgot what desert heat felt like (my last trip to Israel was 3 summers ago). I'd actually close my eyes and have a very hard time figuring out from which direction the sun was hitting me.
I soon found the energy to stay up for the next 23hrs, shop at Miracle Mile, walk from PH to Encore, dance my butt off in a pool at XS, eat gelato at 4am, and feel fully rested after 5 hours of sleep (give or take a coffee or three). The rest of my trip pretty much followed the same pattern (but every day was different). Plus wacky meals and cocktails all around.
But, the true reason that my word today is "vacation" is that in all my amazement at the "Desert Rose", I actually don't think I had a vacation - or at least the kind I'm used to.
I stopped and smelled the roses, blew a bit of cash in return for exuberant sights and sounds, food, shopping, and clubbing. But I did not vacate. Sure, I vacated Vancouver to enter into an illusory life comprised of lights, slot machines, and firm asses; however, my body and mind worked in overdrive, and however much or little I drank, I still feel hungover from head to toe. I sustained a right pinky injury, a redder credit card bill than I planned for, and I've slept 30 hours over the last three nights. I wish I could blame it on jet lag, but I can't.
Some of you are probably reminded of similar vacations to places other than Las Vegas that you've been to, after which you came home in shambles, broken, and tired with swollen feet and a sunburn.
But this one's different, folks. It's nothing I've ever experienced before (and trust me, I've lived out of a backpack for months, slept on snails on a camping trip, have been down to a single Euro in Amsterdam, and was hostel-less at 3am).
What Vegas does is exhaust all senses.
So, let's give a cheers to vacations - in all their forms and guises. Because until you've been to Vegas, you could've sworn you knew them all.
I'm happy to have known you, Vegas. I hope to see you soon, sexy lady. I'll miss you, friend. But I need a break from you because one can have too much of a good thing (especially if that thing seems to be on steroids and speed all the time.)
xox.
I say "almost" because five days after landing in Vancouver, sleeping in my old bed and snapping my lips hungrily at fresh BC water (oh, how I missed you!), I was on another plane headed south via Bellingham allll the way to the place where people leave a lot of things behind - namely money, integrity, normal GI levels, and memories.
Vegas.
$ A town whose article we frequently drop because it truly is one of a kind.$ An artificial city that looks like the Lord Almighty played a simultaneous game of Lego and Lite-Brite.
$ A place where one can't find a grocer, a clock, nor a dirty bathroom (thank god!) but always has plenty of O2, cheap alcohol, and fake sky.
$ A city that offers everything - but if you're smart, not all at once.
$ A place where it takes a long time to get anywhere or do anything (especially make decisions that don't involve pressing a single button that says "Bet" or "Lobby").
$ A place that I thought I'd never want to visit, let alone actually return to.
 |
| Rose-coloured glasses. |
 |
| no biggie. |
Before I knew it, I refueled poolside by working on my tan lines. It also made me realize that I forgot what desert heat felt like (my last trip to Israel was 3 summers ago). I'd actually close my eyes and have a very hard time figuring out from which direction the sun was hitting me.
 |
| dinner. |
 |
| breakfast (chicken & waffles) |
But, the true reason that my word today is "vacation" is that in all my amazement at the "Desert Rose", I actually don't think I had a vacation - or at least the kind I'm used to.
I stopped and smelled the roses, blew a bit of cash in return for exuberant sights and sounds, food, shopping, and clubbing. But I did not vacate. Sure, I vacated Vancouver to enter into an illusory life comprised of lights, slot machines, and firm asses; however, my body and mind worked in overdrive, and however much or little I drank, I still feel hungover from head to toe. I sustained a right pinky injury, a redder credit card bill than I planned for, and I've slept 30 hours over the last three nights. I wish I could blame it on jet lag, but I can't.
 |
| Because to see Vegas clearly is to not to have seen it all. (It's a coping strategy) |
But this one's different, folks. It's nothing I've ever experienced before (and trust me, I've lived out of a backpack for months, slept on snails on a camping trip, have been down to a single Euro in Amsterdam, and was hostel-less at 3am).
What Vegas does is exhaust all senses.
So, let's give a cheers to vacations - in all their forms and guises. Because until you've been to Vegas, you could've sworn you knew them all.
I'm happy to have known you, Vegas. I hope to see you soon, sexy lady. I'll miss you, friend. But I need a break from you because one can have too much of a good thing (especially if that thing seems to be on steroids and speed all the time.)
xox.
July 7, 2011
gag (v.)
I don"t have much of a gag reflex. Most things, though gross, will elicit a verbal response from me instead. A gag, only comes now and again, when words just can't be processed in time.
Words, like the following, are great titles for wretched, sickly things we encounter in life:
"gross" (a go-to term for things that simply repulse us; overused in my vocabulary)
"yucky" (to describe things that elicit a pasty fat-tongue feeling at the back of your throat)
"disgusting" (for a response to something physically seen)
"creepy" or "uncanny" (if it gives me some kind of out-of-this-world, ephemeral shudder)
"foul" (if it's immoral or indescribably stinky)
"abysmal" (if I'm feeling dramatic or using a British accent)
"god-awful" or "fugly" (in response to bad fashion choices)
All of these words are great for making a negative remark and expressing a repulsed opinion about both the physical and abstract world. However, none of these words encompass what a gag does.
Gag encompasses a moment. It makes your eyes roll back, the skin go all goosebumpy, and the brain momentarily stop functioning. It's an experience where for an instant, the exact millisecond that the sparks in your mind fly to connect what's happening, your body follows with a simple gag.
Today, I gagged for the first time in a long time. I was sitting in my office keeping up my daily quota of 2L of water a day by sipping from my Nalgene. Before I knew it, I had something in my mouth - the texture of a leaf. I spat it out, instantly, and to my horror, realized it was a daddy long legs. Well, a deceased daddy long legs. My throat did some funny retraction thing, and there it was: a gag.
I eventually got over it, ate my peanut butter and banana sandwich and got on with my day, researching ebook series and fact checking an article on a universal influenza vaccine.
But it wasn't over.
A few hours later, I was on St Catherine walking home from work with a bounce in my step, in a giddy mood. I walked into the Jean Coutu there to buy some Bandaids and goat milk soap (my latest obsession). In the aisle, to my horror, another gag recurred.
What I'm about to show you probably does not warrant the gag reflex kicking in, but I guess the muscle memory kicked in with the long-legged bug still lingering in whatever part of my brain it is that files away trauma.
Here it is my friend. Something gag-worthy:
For other cilantro-haters like me, please join the anti-cilantro movement.
Thank you and good night, y'all.
*gag*
Words, like the following, are great titles for wretched, sickly things we encounter in life:
"gross" (a go-to term for things that simply repulse us; overused in my vocabulary)
"yucky" (to describe things that elicit a pasty fat-tongue feeling at the back of your throat)
"disgusting" (for a response to something physically seen)
"creepy" or "uncanny" (if it gives me some kind of out-of-this-world, ephemeral shudder)
"foul" (if it's immoral or indescribably stinky)
"abysmal" (if I'm feeling dramatic or using a British accent)
"god-awful" or "fugly" (in response to bad fashion choices)
All of these words are great for making a negative remark and expressing a repulsed opinion about both the physical and abstract world. However, none of these words encompass what a gag does.
Gag encompasses a moment. It makes your eyes roll back, the skin go all goosebumpy, and the brain momentarily stop functioning. It's an experience where for an instant, the exact millisecond that the sparks in your mind fly to connect what's happening, your body follows with a simple gag.
Today, I gagged for the first time in a long time. I was sitting in my office keeping up my daily quota of 2L of water a day by sipping from my Nalgene. Before I knew it, I had something in my mouth - the texture of a leaf. I spat it out, instantly, and to my horror, realized it was a daddy long legs. Well, a deceased daddy long legs. My throat did some funny retraction thing, and there it was: a gag.
I eventually got over it, ate my peanut butter and banana sandwich and got on with my day, researching ebook series and fact checking an article on a universal influenza vaccine.
But it wasn't over.
A few hours later, I was on St Catherine walking home from work with a bounce in my step, in a giddy mood. I walked into the Jean Coutu there to buy some Bandaids and goat milk soap (my latest obsession). In the aisle, to my horror, another gag recurred.
What I'm about to show you probably does not warrant the gag reflex kicking in, but I guess the muscle memory kicked in with the long-legged bug still lingering in whatever part of my brain it is that files away trauma.
Here it is my friend. Something gag-worthy:
For other cilantro-haters like me, please join the anti-cilantro movement.
Thank you and good night, y'all.
*gag*
June 25, 2011
coughie (adj.)
It's been a busy week. My boyfriend, Ben, joined MML last week and we pretty much went straight into turbo-drive over the weekend - going out every night, staying up late, going for daily walks, and eating smoked meat and yummy boulangerie goods. To no surprise, I woke up with a scratchy throat on Monday and after spending 36 hours denying that something was going down with my immune system, I woke up on Tuesday to finally accept that I'm sick.
Funny thing is, I go through a similar pattern every time. While I don't get sick too often, when it hits, it hits hard. My 5 Stages of Incubation are as such:
1. Denial: I pretend nothing is happening and decide to push through oncoming fatigue by staying out later than I would otherwise, just to "prove a point".
2. Anger: I wake the next day with that odd feeling behind my eyeballs and nose...sickness is rising up, but I decide to push it back with gusto. I relish greedily in a huge cup of coffee as a reward for sleeping less than I should have the night before.
3. Bargaining: I go ahead with my day, but decide to purchase some chewable vitamin C tablets. I tell myself I can continue as before if I gulp 2 litres of liquid echinacea and lemon juice like no one's business.
4. Depression: I wake up the next day with an itchy throat and coughie-ness coming on. I get down on myself because I know the truth: I'm going to be disgusting (read: phlegmy, snotty, bunched-up-kleenex-in-my pockts) for a while now.
5. Acceptance: I finally accept that something is wrong with me: I don't feel like drinking my regular cup of coffee.
This time around though, I think something's different. I had 4 cups of coffee yesterday morning over a big breakfast with Ben at Cafe Cherrie on St. Denis. I coughed a couple of times, but I decided to sleep for 9 hours last night and I feel I fought the cold and I won after a 4-day battle. I'm a success case! Cured of flu denial - and the flu!
On another note, this is what a broken laundry dryer looks like:
P.S. This morning, I had another cup of coffee to start the day :)
Funny thing is, I go through a similar pattern every time. While I don't get sick too often, when it hits, it hits hard. My 5 Stages of Incubation are as such:
1. Denial: I pretend nothing is happening and decide to push through oncoming fatigue by staying out later than I would otherwise, just to "prove a point".
2. Anger: I wake the next day with that odd feeling behind my eyeballs and nose...sickness is rising up, but I decide to push it back with gusto. I relish greedily in a huge cup of coffee as a reward for sleeping less than I should have the night before.
3. Bargaining: I go ahead with my day, but decide to purchase some chewable vitamin C tablets. I tell myself I can continue as before if I gulp 2 litres of liquid echinacea and lemon juice like no one's business.
4. Depression: I wake up the next day with an itchy throat and coughie-ness coming on. I get down on myself because I know the truth: I'm going to be disgusting (read: phlegmy, snotty, bunched-up-kleenex-in-my pockts) for a while now.
5. Acceptance: I finally accept that something is wrong with me: I don't feel like drinking my regular cup of coffee.
This time around though, I think something's different. I had 4 cups of coffee yesterday morning over a big breakfast with Ben at Cafe Cherrie on St. Denis. I coughed a couple of times, but I decided to sleep for 9 hours last night and I feel I fought the cold and I won after a 4-day battle. I'm a success case! Cured of flu denial - and the flu!
On another note, this is what a broken laundry dryer looks like:
 |
| How many socks can you spot? |
P.S. This morning, I had another cup of coffee to start the day :)
June 12, 2011
m.m.l. (n.)
Recently, I've taken to distinguishing from my "regular" life and "my Montreal life" (henceforth, MML).
I feel like there's so many differences that I have to mention the difference when talking about either. Neither wins over the other. Vancouver is overflowing with some of the greatest friends and good times a girl could ever wish for. Montreal is filled with some of the greatest food and entertainment a girl could ever wish for.
Vancouver Vish is yoga-seawall-snowboarding-beach-bum-Naam-"corner-store" and hookah Vish. Montreal Vish is 4am gnocchi-triple-gin-bike-shopping-crazy-bakery-pillaging Vish.
Both are pretty awesome and happy. But it's hard to combine the two worlds. So, for now, I divide them and expect different things. For now, the summer is gonna be festival-crazy and just plain fun all around because so far, I like worktime and playtime :)
In spirit of MML, I've decided to compile a list (that I'll be updating) of Montreal-must do's, as I do them or plan to.
Here goes.
- Crescent Street: Sir Winston Churchill Pub (the site of poor Barney Panofsky's downward spiral) & Brutopia (the site of apricot beer - but only on the 1st floor...)
- Bixi-ing down to the old Port and all around on secure bike paths.
- St. Viateur's Bagel (is better than Fairmount! They're more fluffy and .. voluminous?..)
- Bluegrass at Barfly. A bit of a dirty bar, but nevertheless.
- Free Museum Day. Free culture!! Google it.
- Craigslist, thank you for my cheap (but quality coffee-worthy) coffee maker. What did we do before you?
- Patiti Patata poutine (=D)) [Yup, that's my attempt at making a unicode double chin]
- Dunn's kreplach and matzah ball soups at 3am; Schwartz's smoked meat sandwiches....the line is always worth it.
- The bar at the The W is pretttyyy wunderbar and worth a visit :)
- the Montenegro bar on St. Laurent: the owner Soki is very hilarious and really knows how to treat the real "locals".
- Ye Olde Orchard (on Prince Arthur) has awesome live music on most days. One night, Ben and I stumbled into a rockabilly-themed night.
- Marche Lobo (on Parc and Milton) - a budget grocery shopper's dream. It's worth a visit just to see the prices (and the food's healthy and often organic!)
- $2 Street "Chew Mein": it's the talk of the town (still!) Thanks to my dear friend, Mikey, the Historian. Unfortunately, the historian special is no longer available.
- Festival Mondial de la Biere. There's another one in Strasbourg- so it must mean that it's good. Plenty of beer (kinda expensive, but hey! where else can you drink up on many many many types of beers and hoola hoop to live music while chewing on bison?!)
- Crescent St. during the Grand Prix. Don't miss it if you like crowds, promo products, and of course, cars.
- Clubbing in the Gay Village - east St. Catherine. Wish I could remember where we wound up that night... but I'm sure they're all great.
- Caffee in Gamba. The best coffee in town. Especially great on an early Sunday when it's not busy. Biscotti is not optional, (I say).
- O Noir. Blind waiters, what!
- Sweet Lee's. Apparently, this rustic bakery, while currently only a travelling stand at select art fests (like Puce Pop), is opening a Montreal location in 3 weeks. I am suuuppperrrr stoked because, I know my dessert, and man oh man, I couldn't get enough of their carrot cheesecake (all fresh and wholesome ingredients, including pineapple!)
- Simons - a department store that speaks to my taste and budget. (Side note: The Bay in Montreal is amazingly well-stocked with quality designer labels and the shoes go on pretty good sales!!)
- By far, the best gypsy (country, blues) folk I've ever heard: The Unsettlers - I caught them for free @Pl. des Ameriques, when they opened Fringe Fest - and they blew me away! Very Nick Cave/Bregovic/Tom Waits-ish, but happier (or at least tragi-comedic). Listen to "Dead and Gone".
- And naturally, the Jazz Festival is on my list (starts on the 25th though), with 3 free Unsettlers shows!!
- Cheskie's Bakery in Outremont. 6 types of rugelach, challah the size of Ben's head.... sigh. :) Don't leave empty-handed.
- Romado's Rotisserie on Parc. Best Portuguese BBQ. Massive amounts of chicken, potatoes and rice for cheap. Order some custard pies on the side.
- Jardin Nelson.. best terrace ever. @Pl. J. Cartier in the Old Port.
- Suntanning and reading at Parc la Fontaine or at the McGill Campus.
- Tam Tam Sundays at Parc Jeanne-Mance :)
- I know this isn't any sort of "establishment", but my bed is so comfy. Comfy beds are so important, in regular life and in MML. (Which reminds me, it's time to go to bed.)
------------------------ to be continued ------------------------
July 25, 2011:
Because all good dictionaries get updated, here is an even more expanded definition of "MML":
- Bixi bikes have increased my enjoyment of MML to the nth degree - the joy I get from a night's breeze in my buzzed face on my way home down St. Urbain is magnifique.
- Chez Jose('s, haaa) houses what is may be one of the most amazing meals I've had (especially, for $9). Perhaps is was the colourful, grafitti-esque decor, the fruity smoothies (Yuniki is the bomb) or the avocado and cheese mix with the Portugese chicken, it's hard to say. Perhaps it's all three.
- This may seem a funny one, but: NYC. It's really great to have the city of cities only a 6.5 hour drive (i.e. weekend-trip) away, while getting to enjoy the benefits of living as a Canadian.
- Vintage shopping at it's best, (and I don't even like vintage shopping).
- The biggest outdoor terrace in North America: Le Saint-Sulpice in the Latin Quarter (though the Latin Q should also get it's own shout out!) It's like drinking beers with a football field filled with people.
- Rooftop pools + Friday afternoons off = a great start to a weekend.
- Concerts. While I'm sure I'm biased because it's summer and the city is teeming with festivals on every street at every hour, the concerts in Montreal are superb - from the free ones, to Osheaga, to the fact that I had the chance to watch Bono throw white roses at me from 3 rows away for $70 in the open air, while the Edge skirted around with his guitar metres above my head.
- Mont Royal. The view is spectacular, the lac is wack, there's pedal boats and dragon flies and lots of forest greenery to cool you off on a hot Montreal day. The "hike" is also doable in Birkenstocks (I have banned socks this summer so this is quite important).
- Checking out a game at Stade Molson is a must, for non-football and football fans alike. The view of downtown is spectacular once the sun sets if you get seats on the south side. It's especially cool because they allow in's and out's....which is even more cool if you lived kiddy corner to the stadium, like I did.
- Cafe Milton breakfasts - and pretty much any other Montreal breakfast. These people really know how to serve up their eggs, sausages, waffles, crepes, thick-cut toast, potatoes, orange juice and coffee. (And it's great after nights at places like St. Sulpice...)
- La Distillerie. If I became an alcoholic, I would blame the Planter's Punch, served in a clunky jar with chunks of pineapple, fresh-squeezed juice, and 2 oz of heavenly booze with lemon and grenadine.
- The old port at night is a place like none other. The cobblestone and lighting is romantic, the ice cream is plentiful, the artisan alleys are open late, and if you've planned it right, you can also catch some fireworks, then bike home in a warm breeze with a $20 caricature done of you, rolled-up in your basket waiting to be framed at home so that all your friends can laugh at you.
------------------------ to be continued ------------------------
I feel like there's so many differences that I have to mention the difference when talking about either. Neither wins over the other. Vancouver is overflowing with some of the greatest friends and good times a girl could ever wish for. Montreal is filled with some of the greatest food and entertainment a girl could ever wish for.
Vancouver Vish is yoga-seawall-snowboarding-beach-bum-Naam-"corner-store" and hookah Vish. Montreal Vish is 4am gnocchi-triple-gin-bike-shopping-crazy-bakery-pillaging Vish.
Both are pretty awesome and happy. But it's hard to combine the two worlds. So, for now, I divide them and expect different things. For now, the summer is gonna be festival-crazy and just plain fun all around because so far, I like worktime and playtime :)
In spirit of MML, I've decided to compile a list (that I'll be updating) of Montreal-must do's, as I do them or plan to.
Here goes.
- Crescent Street: Sir Winston Churchill Pub (the site of poor Barney Panofsky's downward spiral) & Brutopia (the site of apricot beer - but only on the 1st floor...)
- Bixi-ing down to the old Port and all around on secure bike paths.
- St. Viateur's Bagel (is better than Fairmount! They're more fluffy and .. voluminous?..)
- Bluegrass at Barfly. A bit of a dirty bar, but nevertheless.
- Free Museum Day. Free culture!! Google it.
- Craigslist, thank you for my cheap (but quality coffee-worthy) coffee maker. What did we do before you?
- Patiti Patata poutine (=D)) [Yup, that's my attempt at making a unicode double chin]- Dunn's kreplach and matzah ball soups at 3am; Schwartz's smoked meat sandwiches....the line is always worth it.
- The bar at the The W is pretttyyy wunderbar and worth a visit :)
- the Montenegro bar on St. Laurent: the owner Soki is very hilarious and really knows how to treat the real "locals".
- Ye Olde Orchard (on Prince Arthur) has awesome live music on most days. One night, Ben and I stumbled into a rockabilly-themed night.
- Marche Lobo (on Parc and Milton) - a budget grocery shopper's dream. It's worth a visit just to see the prices (and the food's healthy and often organic!)
- $2 Street "Chew Mein": it's the talk of the town (still!) Thanks to my dear friend, Mikey, the Historian. Unfortunately, the historian special is no longer available.- Festival Mondial de la Biere. There's another one in Strasbourg- so it must mean that it's good. Plenty of beer (kinda expensive, but hey! where else can you drink up on many many many types of beers and hoola hoop to live music while chewing on bison?!)
- Crescent St. during the Grand Prix. Don't miss it if you like crowds, promo products, and of course, cars.
- Clubbing in the Gay Village - east St. Catherine. Wish I could remember where we wound up that night... but I'm sure they're all great.
- Caffee in Gamba. The best coffee in town. Especially great on an early Sunday when it's not busy. Biscotti is not optional, (I say).
- O Noir. Blind waiters, what!
- Sweet Lee's. Apparently, this rustic bakery, while currently only a travelling stand at select art fests (like Puce Pop), is opening a Montreal location in 3 weeks. I am suuuppperrrr stoked because, I know my dessert, and man oh man, I couldn't get enough of their carrot cheesecake (all fresh and wholesome ingredients, including pineapple!)- Simons - a department store that speaks to my taste and budget. (Side note: The Bay in Montreal is amazingly well-stocked with quality designer labels and the shoes go on pretty good sales!!)
- By far, the best gypsy (country, blues) folk I've ever heard: The Unsettlers - I caught them for free @Pl. des Ameriques, when they opened Fringe Fest - and they blew me away! Very Nick Cave/Bregovic/Tom Waits-ish, but happier (or at least tragi-comedic). Listen to "Dead and Gone".
- And naturally, the Jazz Festival is on my list (starts on the 25th though), with 3 free Unsettlers shows!!
- Cheskie's Bakery in Outremont. 6 types of rugelach, challah the size of Ben's head.... sigh. :) Don't leave empty-handed.
- Romado's Rotisserie on Parc. Best Portuguese BBQ. Massive amounts of chicken, potatoes and rice for cheap. Order some custard pies on the side.
- Jardin Nelson.. best terrace ever. @Pl. J. Cartier in the Old Port.
- Suntanning and reading at Parc la Fontaine or at the McGill Campus.
- Tam Tam Sundays at Parc Jeanne-Mance :)
- I know this isn't any sort of "establishment", but my bed is so comfy. Comfy beds are so important, in regular life and in MML. (Which reminds me, it's time to go to bed.)
------------------------ to be continued ------------------------
July 25, 2011:
Because all good dictionaries get updated, here is an even more expanded definition of "MML":
- Bixi bikes have increased my enjoyment of MML to the nth degree - the joy I get from a night's breeze in my buzzed face on my way home down St. Urbain is magnifique.
- Chez Jose('s, haaa) houses what is may be one of the most amazing meals I've had (especially, for $9). Perhaps is was the colourful, grafitti-esque decor, the fruity smoothies (Yuniki is the bomb) or the avocado and cheese mix with the Portugese chicken, it's hard to say. Perhaps it's all three.- This may seem a funny one, but: NYC. It's really great to have the city of cities only a 6.5 hour drive (i.e. weekend-trip) away, while getting to enjoy the benefits of living as a Canadian.
- Vintage shopping at it's best, (and I don't even like vintage shopping).
- The biggest outdoor terrace in North America: Le Saint-Sulpice in the Latin Quarter (though the Latin Q should also get it's own shout out!) It's like drinking beers with a football field filled with people.- Rooftop pools + Friday afternoons off = a great start to a weekend.
- Concerts. While I'm sure I'm biased because it's summer and the city is teeming with festivals on every street at every hour, the concerts in Montreal are superb - from the free ones, to Osheaga, to the fact that I had the chance to watch Bono throw white roses at me from 3 rows away for $70 in the open air, while the Edge skirted around with his guitar metres above my head.- Mont Royal. The view is spectacular, the lac is wack, there's pedal boats and dragon flies and lots of forest greenery to cool you off on a hot Montreal day. The "hike" is also doable in Birkenstocks (I have banned socks this summer so this is quite important).
- Checking out a game at Stade Molson is a must, for non-football and football fans alike. The view of downtown is spectacular once the sun sets if you get seats on the south side. It's especially cool because they allow in's and out's....which is even more cool if you lived kiddy corner to the stadium, like I did.- Cafe Milton breakfasts - and pretty much any other Montreal breakfast. These people really know how to serve up their eggs, sausages, waffles, crepes, thick-cut toast, potatoes, orange juice and coffee. (And it's great after nights at places like St. Sulpice...)
- La Distillerie. If I became an alcoholic, I would blame the Planter's Punch, served in a clunky jar with chunks of pineapple, fresh-squeezed juice, and 2 oz of heavenly booze with lemon and grenadine.
- The old port at night is a place like none other. The cobblestone and lighting is romantic, the ice cream is plentiful, the artisan alleys are open late, and if you've planned it right, you can also catch some fireworks, then bike home in a warm breeze with a $20 caricature done of you, rolled-up in your basket waiting to be framed at home so that all your friends can laugh at you.
------------------------ to be continued ------------------------
May 23, 2011
count off (n.)
It's been a while since I wrote anything - seeing I moved my butt across the country for an exciting opportunity to work at Reader's Digest Canada for the summer, you think it would've been sooner that I'd feel I needed to let it allll outttt!!
I haven't had a moment to even reflect on all that's happened in the last 2 weeks - however, now that I have a long weekend, I can get started (and hopefully finished).
To avoid this turning into a long Vish Ramble, I will also (in Vish-like manner) proceed with a list.
Alliteratively and alphabetically (feels so good).
I imagine this will give you all an idea of what my life in Montreal (mon-ray-all) has been like since I got here a couple of weeks ago :) Of course, there's parts missing, but I've tried to piece it together....
B
C
E
Evening runs and walks :)
Eden grocery has all the lovely specialties I encountered in Vancouver all in one spot: vegetable gyozas, Bengal spice tea, fortune cookies, Leslie Stowe's crisps, mint body wash & Manna bread!
F
Looking forward to festival season to start up in June... it's gonna be effin' crazy! And fireworks!
Miss Farmer, my new weekend roomie :) sleepovers, manicures, movies & ice cream!
I have yet to learn francais... Je vais continuer essayer...
J
Place Jacques Cartier and the old city - just great for jolly weekend afternoons :)
K
I really like my kitchen - it's kind of a room of its own, with access to the balcony and filled with useful knick-knacks; it has a Vish-sized oven, too!
L
M
Marche Lobo: money well spent (on mounds of food - organics too!); with prices like that, it's gotta be a shady operation, right?
Mango had a 30% off sale! Speaking of mangoes... the city can't get enough of them!
Missing all my Vancouverites, of course.... :) Vous me manquez!
N
Noshing: one of Dani & Vish's favourite activities when they get together. (Melt that Fudge-O, Dani!)
P
Poutine, please!
R
Reader's Digest is going really well - I've been given a range of responsibilities that I like doing and am good at: research, reviewing/editing, writing copy, pitching articles, doing marketing tasks (ad layouts for example) and updating online content. So far, so good - and everyone is so nice!
S
Free shots at the sports bar for every time Burrows or Salo scored a goal!
Skyping with my Vancouverites makes me feel special :)
Summer hours at work means early Fridays!
Scrabble with Ben is not dead!
U
Early May: UVA rays, what!
& St. Urbain's wonderful Jewish bakeries - and downhill bike lane! :)
W
Walking to work is great! Sipping coffee, getting a bit of Vit D, right before the day starts :)
Also - On Saturday I realized that my apartment had no hot water; and I also realized that, you know you're in Montreal when your neighbours don't seem to care or mind all that much - apparently hot water is more of a luxury than a necessity? Well, I'm relieved to find that today (Monday), the faucet gave me what I needed and it sure is hot!
I haven't had a moment to even reflect on all that's happened in the last 2 weeks - however, now that I have a long weekend, I can get started (and hopefully finished).
To avoid this turning into a long Vish Ramble, I will also (in Vish-like manner) proceed with a list.
Alliteratively and alphabetically (feels so good).
I imagine this will give you all an idea of what my life in Montreal (mon-ray-all) has been like since I got here a couple of weeks ago :) Of course, there's parts missing, but I've tried to piece it together....
A
My Apartment is on Rue Aylmer - with ample room for all my stuff.
I've been drinking ample amounts of St. Ambroise amber ale on any given "patio day".
B
I have a balcony that overlooks a bad-ass beer can burial ground.
Bixi bikes are the best - and especially beneficial for booking it to Outremont for fresh babkas and bagels in the a.m. (My monthly Bixi pass was the first thing to arrive in the mail addressed to me!)
C
$2 chow mein on St. Laurent is not closed. Clearly, it's still conducive to late-night chomping - two doors down from the original location.
Crescent St.'s Sir Winston Churchill pub is cheaper than I remember it being. $2.50 for a mixed cocktail on Mondays?!
Champs has officially been classified as the centre of Canucks fandom.
D
D
Dinner has become really delightful because I get to dream it up and make myself - simple or crazy, it's always delicious.
E
Evening runs and walks :)
Eden grocery has all the lovely specialties I encountered in Vancouver all in one spot: vegetable gyozas, Bengal spice tea, fortune cookies, Leslie Stowe's crisps, mint body wash & Manna bread!
F
Looking forward to festival season to start up in June... it's gonna be effin' crazy! And fireworks!
Miss Farmer, my new weekend roomie :) sleepovers, manicures, movies & ice cream!
I have yet to learn francais... Je vais continuer essayer...
G
Google has been a gigantic help in giving me tips on how to find things, clean things, cook things, and just generally, how to play house!
H
H
My home was not hot enough (i.e. cold) so I used my hair dryer to keep my toes warm in the mornings.
H&M shopping and city "hike" with Dani for 6 hours in the heat.
Tim Horton's iced capps in the old city.
Tim Horton's iced capps in the old city.
I
Visited Little Italy, Dani's neighbourhood - the industrious Jean Talon market and its invigorating fruit samples are the bomb.
Visited Little Italy, Dani's neighbourhood - the industrious Jean Talon market and its invigorating fruit samples are the bomb.
J
K
  |
| Cooking "instruction sheet" pull-out in my oven! And my red kitchen! |
I really like my kitchen - it's kind of a room of its own, with access to the balcony and filled with useful knick-knacks; it has a Vish-sized oven, too!
Mini kickoff pizza party at work on my first day at RD.
Went to The Keg with Ben before he left for the month; probably the last steak I'll be able to afford on my summer (party, concert) budget!
Went to The Keg with Ben before he left for the month; probably the last steak I'll be able to afford on my summer (party, concert) budget!
L
 |
| Pont Victoria connects Montreal with St. Lambert. |
Ben and I went on a little adventure to St. Lambert where he'll be working at an e.s.L. camp!
Biking the Lachine canal and the St. Lawrence river.
Biking the Lachine canal and the St. Lawrence river.
The first day arriving at my apartment, it looked more than a little dark - but then Ben screwed in some more light bulbs... phew!
Oh-- AND! check out: Librissime bookstore.
Oh-- AND! check out: Librissime bookstore.
M
Mango had a 30% off sale! Speaking of mangoes... the city can't get enough of them!
Missing all my Vancouverites, of course.... :) Vous me manquez!
N
O
Trying on onesies at Forever 21 on the long weekend...uber obnoxious-looking.
P
Q
Quinoa, the quintessential nutritious dinner :)
R
S
 |
| except no goal by Salo yet.... |
 |
| and no win for Ben...(yet!) |
Free shots at the sports bar for every time Burrows or Salo scored a goal!
Skyping with my Vancouverites makes me feel special :)
Summer hours at work means early Fridays!
Scrabble with Ben is not dead!
T
Tam tam on Sunday: picnicked and really got into it...so sweaty!
U
Early May: UVA rays, what!
& St. Urbain's wonderful Jewish bakeries - and downhill bike lane! :)
V
Vishie likes this ville she's living in. A smart personal venture.
Restaurant signs, "apportez votre vin", means cheaper wine for just an uncorking fee!
Restaurant signs, "apportez votre vin", means cheaper wine for just an uncorking fee!
W
 |
| The park kiddy corner to my building. |
Also - On Saturday I realized that my apartment had no hot water; and I also realized that, you know you're in Montreal when your neighbours don't seem to care or mind all that much - apparently hot water is more of a luxury than a necessity? Well, I'm relieved to find that today (Monday), the faucet gave me what I needed and it sure is hot!
X
xox's to all my lovelies who aren't here with me!
xox's to all my lovelies who aren't here with me!
Y
Couldn't say anything but, "Yes!" to onion rings at Champs!
Couldn't say anything but, "Yes!" to onion rings at Champs!
Z
Looking for Dani's place - on rue zygote was over zealous as it was really "rue Zotique".... woops.
Looking for Dani's place - on rue zygote was over zealous as it was really "rue Zotique".... woops.
Now I know my Ah - Bay - Says... Next time won't you chante avec maaayyy!!
<3 miss you all!
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