We were discussing look-a-likes in the office today. A coworker thought I looked a little like Punky Brewster. You be the judge.
This is what Dutch Dreams are made of June 29, 2009
Had ice cream at Dutch Dreams with B last week and saw this on their shelf. Is it strange that I have a problem with this? It’s like Nutella, but gross.
What’s your fave? June 26, 2009
In honour of MJ’s passing, I ask you: What’s your favourite Michael Jackson song?
Mine? Beat It. For dancing. Rock with You. For chilling out.
Beach Me June 26, 2009
Thanks to scotteh on Flickr
Breaking news! I’m moving!
This decision wasn’t made because of my noisy neighbours. My lease is up in September, roomie is heading back home and Boy and I l-o-v-e each other enough to tolerate one another’s company in close quarters, as tested during our 8 day long trip out east, basically in isolation, and we didn’t beat each other up, threaten to break up or have superfights.
Searching for an apartment in Toronto is difficult, especially in September, when students are taking up all of the good places but not nearly as difficult as it is on Toronto Island. We started our search early and fortunately after only seeing 3 places we found the perfect place.
We had limited our search to just one Toronto neighbourhood: The Beach (or Beaches for those who don’t live there – superfight over which is the correct term), It’s Better in the Beach. The neighbourhood gives us the feeling of living in one of the cottages on the Island, far away from the downtown core, but in reality we’re so, so close to the hustle and bustle of the city… examine the photo above – CN Tower = hustle and bustle.
Our place is a cute 2 bedroom on the top floor of a triplex and totally 60s traditional. I’m in love with out adorable seafoam green tiled bathroom. The best thing about this place? Walk out the front door, look to the left, oh look at that a 2 minute walk to the beach. Look to the right, Queen St. is a 3 minute walk away – as is the cutest Startbucks in T.O. I’m also looking forward to hanging with my new neighbour and watching fabulous movies together at Fox Theatre.
So now that I’m a Beach resident, am I allowed to place a BEACH sticker on my car?
It’s Night’s like this, I wish I were Deaf June 20, 2009
I’m up at 4am on a Saturday, writing this post. Why ever so, Ivana? Yoy may ask. Unfortunately, I’m not dealing with insomnia, a broken heart, nor am I too excited to get to sleep. The truth is, the neighbour above me is having a party tonight… again.
Since the weather got warmer, it seems that she’s been having guests over every weekend. Great! I’m glad she’s popular to demand this sort of dance card, much more popular than I. The problem is that week after week (after week) these parties run late into the night and not only wake me from my slumber, but keep me up and eff with my sleeping schedule!
I can’t believe I’ve become this person so young but I have and that’s just that, I can’t change it. So tonight, she had some friends out in the backyard. I had my window open on this lovely summer evening. But wait, what do I smell in my room now? Cigarettes! Argh! Fine, shut my window, no problem.
I knew that their talking was going to bother me, so I solved this by lulling myself to sleep with the lovely sounds of Arrested Development. This worked! I was out like a light. I was woken up around 2am to some super loud pop music. Grreeeaat. The minute I heard the pop music, I knew exactly where the night was heading.
Upstairs neighbour was in the first stage of drunk girl night. The stage where all is fun and dandy and top 40 music is where it’s at. It seemed that all of the songs she was playing were direct from my iPod. I managed to convince myself that she was stealing it from my iTunes. I had to ensure that the computer was no longer connected because I’d be damned if I was being kept up all night by my own music.
Soon after, she got into stage 2: ABBA. So much ABBA was playing only moments ago. To make matters worse, I could hear her singing. It’s terrible. It was at this point that I decided to pay her a visit and politely ask her to turn it down. I’m making out full words and can even hear her sing, it’s 3:30am, I don’t think I’m being crazy? Am I? Please confirm.
I finally get the courage to knock on her door. The talking stops momentarily, yet no one comes to answer. Strange. I wait a minute and knock a few times again. Louder. As I start knocking, I hear this terrible, nasal voice yell, but then yell louder as I continue to knock. Is she playing a game? Does she think this is funny? I wouldn’t put it past her, seeing as she barely has the tact to say, “hello” in the hallways… there’s 4 apartments in this house, come on now! Eventually I give up on the knocking, fearing I’ll try her doorknob next and that’ll be a whole other level of crazy.
Stage 3: the last dance. Or what usually is the last dance. But I feel like it’s just the beginning. She’s playing the Canadian bar, last call favourite, Home for a Rest. This is always the last song before heading out and it’s so painful to hear right now. Not only am I listening to this tune on high but I think they’re doing a jumping, skipping, folk dance jig. The floor is creaking, shaking and my nerves and patience are at their wits end.
It’s at this point where I decide that drastic times call for drastic measures. The Boy has told me that I’m famous for my passive aggressive notes and that I should post one of my notes to this site one day. I pull out my trusty passive aggressive notepad and start writing away. It wasn’t even mean, really. I explained that after 2 failed attempts to knock on her door, I’ve had to resort to this. Asked her to turn down her music and even signed my name, that’s not THAT passive aggressive, right? If you answered no, you may change your mind momentarily. I folded up the paper, wrote APT#2 in big, bold letters and taped it to the window by the front door. I then, rang her buzzer repeatedly and ran back to my apartment. In an effort to conceal my identity (although my name was on the letter), I turned my lights off and didn’t lock the door – she was right there, it would’ve been far too obvious. I wait a few minutes, as she retreats back to her apartment, expecting for the music to be lowered, or worse, put up even more. Nothing happens. WTF?!
BITCH DIDN’T TAKE THE NOTE!!!!
At this point, she’s entered stage 4: Classic rock. I don’t know if there’s a stage after this one, so I’m hoping her evening will come to a close shortly. I’m cutting this stage short, because in all honesty, I started writing this after I left her the note, it’s 4:42am. She turned off the music a few minutes ago and all is quiet up there now. She’s asleep and I’m sitting here, writing about how I’m waiting for the music to stop so I can get back to bed. I’m the only loser awake in this house now. Now, as I abruptly leave this post, I must retire. Peace out, homies.
Bergy Bits, Growlers and big honkin’ ‘Bergs June 15, 2009
I just got back from a fabulous trip to the western coast of the eastern coast of Canada (confused you yet?). So much happened and I was excited to get a bunch of things to write about, so here is installment one, Bergy Bits, Growlers and Icebergs.
A few days into our trip, Boy and I drove up to St. Anthony, pretty much the most northern point of the island for Iceberg season and Vikings (more about the Vikings in another post). I really didn’t dress appropriately for this vacation, I was expecting normal weather for June, very stupid. Fortunately, the owners of the cabin we were staying at had a great supply of warm outer wear because the weather in St. Anthony was cold, I’m talking snow on the ground and huge chunks of ice floating in the ocean.
We stayed at a lovely little place, Fishing Point B&B, it was everything I was expecting from my first ever B&B stay. Lovely owners, quaint room, traditional decor and the most delicious breakfast. Ever.
The morning after our stay, we took a tour with Northland Discovery Boat Tours, a family-run business with Captain Lewis (father) and Tour Guide Paul (son) on board in hopes to find some whales for us. The minute we head out, we’re greeting by a couple of seal, although too quick to capture a photo of. In the distance we spotted some whales, as we inch closer to them, Paul let’s us know that they’re humpbacks, a mother and her calf, up north feeding after a long, starving winter down south.
Humpback Mama diving
When they’d dive into the water, they’d leave behind footprints:
Humpback Footprint
This is caused by the whale, thrusting its tail up and down as it dives deep into the ocean. This pair kept us entertained for a short while, until we started heading towards our first ‘berg, enough time for me to start feeling seasick. Observe:
Pukity, Puke, Puke
Before I go further, I’ll quickly explain the difference between Bergy Bits, Growlers and (Big Honkin’) Icebergs.
First, Bergy Bits, usually less than 15ft in size. Broken off bits of ice, from Growlers and Icebergs.
Bergy Bit, courtesy of adactio on Flickr
Growlers are as small as a car and can be as big as a small house. They get this term because of the sound they make.
Growler
This one has an amazing blue glow, the intensity of the glow is dependent on how compact the ice is and how many air bubbles are inside.
We then visited, a (Big Honkin’) Iceberg:
(Big Honkin') Iceberg
This one was about 100ft high, keep in mind, that’s only 1/8th of the iceberg, it’s really quite something.
Now that you’re caught up on your ‘berg vocab, time to fill you in on some fun facts about them ‘bergs. The icebergs that float into “Iceberg Alley” in St. Anthony begin their 2 to 3 year trip from Baffin Bay. I was shocked to learn that after that long trip, it takes about 2 months to melt in St. Anthony.
Sometimes, polar bears float their way to St. Anthony from the great white north. Paul told us of a time that his neighbour saw one peeking into a window of Paul’s home, the neighbour called the family to warn Lewis to get his gun ready. Eventually, the polar bear finds it’s way over to Labrador/home.
As we made our way back to St. Anthony Harbour, we caught a glimpse of a bald eagle (I’ve never know anyone to see these, I almost thought they were a myth, like the unicorn), a puffin (a cross of a penguin and toucan) and some moose perched at the top of a mountain.
This tour really was amazing, so informative and entertaining and really these photos don’t do the animals and ‘bergs justice, you must see these for yourself. For some more interesting info on icebergs, check out the Newfoundland and Labrador website.
Day Two: Get out of jail, free May 26, 2009
If I had special powers that would allow me to see into the future, I would’ve prepared myself for day two of Doors Open. Granted, the Toronto Star did warn me to expect line ups but I wasn’t expecting anything like this. Boy and I arrived at the Don Jail just before 10am, bypassing several coffee shops on the way because we were going to stop for breakfast after the tour. Oh how silly we were. Little did we know that a line had been started at 6:30am, tours didn’t begin until 10! I think my jaw dropped when I saw the line as we were looking for parking. Boy dropped me off so I could get a head start on the line, grateful we did this as it was cut shortly after us.
Just observing the exterior, The Don Jail can send a surge of shivers up your spine. It’s an old building that looks like something out of a horror flick. We kept ourselves busy, watching an extremely hipster couple being extremely hip, unfortunately she left the line to do better things with her time and the boyfriend was boring. We waited 5 bloody hours to get into this place. 5. HOURS. I was hoping it would be worth it.
We were finally shoved (like cattle) into 12 different corrals and given some history on the city of Toronto and the Don Jail. I will do my best to pass along what I learned. The building was designed by William Thomas, the same guy who designed the lovely St. Michael’s Cathedral and St. Lawrence Hall in 1862. At the time, the Don Jail was located in the country, outside of Toronto; it’s strange to think at some point Gerrard and Broadview was the country. It was constructed to house 275 inmates, one in every 3’ x 8’ cell but at some point, it had nearly 600 inmates and storing 2 or 3 inmates into each tiny cell. Inmates were permitted to move freely within each cell block through the day, so they weren’t always crammed into these claustrophobic cells. While capital punishment was still legal, 34 men were hanged at the Don Jail. During an excavation in 2007 in what is now the rear parking lot of the building, the remains of 11 men were found. At the time of their death, no family members came to claim them so they had their remains buried in the prison yard. In 2007, their remains were given a proper burial in a nearby cemetery. An adjoining jail was added in 1958 and the “old” Don Jail was closed in 1977. Bridgepoint Health purchased the building and will be gutting the interior to make room for their administration offices, hoping to maintain as much of the exterior façade as possible.
Here are a few photos from the tour:
The facade of the Don Jail. Thanks to Erik Twight on Flickr for this image!
The photo below may look familiar to you. A scene from Cocktail was filmed in this here Rotunda.
We enter the Rotunda, the meaner way of saying atrium; this is where the prisoners would check-in
Our tour guide pointed out that the support arches were different, depending on which side of the prison you were on. Dragon supports meant you were in officer quarters, snakes meant you were in prisoners quarters.
Snakes on the left, Dragons on the right
We were then escorted to a cell block on the 2nd floor, fire and safety codes only allow a maximum of 20 people on the floor, the 3rd and 4th floors are so unstable that no one is permitted in these areas.
An example of a cell...this is not for solitary confinement
The 2nd floor gave us access to the gallows, where several criminals were hanged. Here’s a view from where they would hang to the ground:
The gallows. Blood and guts and death.
When prisoners completed their time, they were sent to collect their belongings and had to sit outside this building for quite some time. With all that time to spare, they would scratch in their names, time done, crime and year.
When we finally got home, I got to check out the effects of sitting out in the sun for 5 hours on a lovely day without sunscreen. It was painful! Boy snapped a shot of my terrible burn. Observe:
It's still en fuego.
That night, after I slathered on more aloe vera gel than necessary, I browsed through the photos and noticed that the 2nd image above had orbs! I understand that sure, they could be dust but I refuse to believe it. The Don Jail is known to be haunted so I managed to convince myself that I had disrupted a ghost and it’s out to get haunt me. I already have an overly active imagination so this propelled me to freak out and think there was a ghost nearby, it didn’t help that my neighbourhood raccoon was breathing heavily outside my window and trying to climb the brush along the side of my house. So what did I do? Well, readers, you’re in luck. Not only is this post about my tour of the jail, it’s also going to give you a fail-proof way of dealing with nightmares and an overly active imagination.
If you are laying in bed and cannot get to sleep due to wildly frightening images in your head, follow these steps:
1. Lay on your side.
2. Pull covers over your head so that they cover your eyes, tuck covers under the side of your head.
3. With the remaining covers around your face (and while still tucked under side of head), wrap covers around your mouth.
4. Ensure your feet are covered.
These steps will prepare you should you accidentally open your eyes, because you know, ghosts remain in your room just staring at you, you won’t see anything because the covers are blocking your vision. And having the blanket covering your mouth will prevent the ghosts from drugging you. Plus, it’s pretty comfy. If these fail and you have a nightmare, just go pee. Trust me. My mother would tell me to do this as a child and it works. Promise, promise.
Here’s to no nightmares tonight.
Doors Open: BAPS is beauty May 25, 2009
This weekend was the 10th annual Doors Open Toronto. What goes down is, historic buildings, famous buildings, fabulous buildings within the GTA open up their doors to the public for special tours. What’s ironic is that most of these locations are usually open to the public throughout the year and no one takes advantage of it then. It’s kind of like when a movie you own is on television and you choose to watch the televised version, the one that’s cut up, without profane words or subjects and stuffed with commercials instead of just popping your DVD into the player.
I limited myself to 5 locations which I shortly cut to 3. The BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir Toronto, the Flat Iron Building and the Don Jail. I started out Saturday morning, Roomie and I ventured off to where Toronto and Mississauga meet further north than I normally care to venture but BAPS was well worth it.
A little background on BAPS as per the “multimedia” presentation provided before the tour began. The building is constructed of marble, limestone and sandstone, no metal, concrete or steel was used in constructing the walls of the building. It took 1,800 craftsmen, 18 months to hand carve the entire temple in 26 locations in India. It’s quite a sight. No two walls, archways, columns are the same. The temple boasts 170 sculptures and 132 archways. It cost approximately $40 million to build and not one cent was provided by the government, it was all raised within the Hindu community. It’s the only one of it’s kind in Canada.
The exterior of the temple
Upon conclusion of the presentation, we were welcome to tour the mandir (what I call the church, for comparison), it’s a place where the mind becomes still, a place for prayer, peace and meditation. Our shoes were removed and placed in cubbies on the women’s cubby storage area. I came prepared and wore socks, Roomie was not so lucky and had to go around barefoot – she was going traditional as all of the Hindu community volunteers were not wearing socks. We ensured that our shoulders and legs (below the knee) were not exposed, sarongs were provided to those who weren’t prepared for these rules. And we were on our way.
The mandir is one of the most breathtaking places I’ve ever been. There is so much going on, so much detail, so much tradition and history that I was extremely overwhelmed. Inside the mandir, Scared Shrines are placed throughout the walls, they’re the focal point of the mandir and house the Hindu deities which are decked out in royal attire and gorgeous thrones. I had 101 questions but was afraid of talking as there was a “silence, please” rule in effect and I have a hard time whispering – oddly, it can get louder than my indoor voice. If you plan to check it out, make sure you check out their website as the Sacred Shrines in the mandir are closed for most of the day. No cameras were permitted inside the mandir but I did manage to find a couple of images on Flickr, observe:
What the mandir looked like, blue light and all. Thanks to CHARLES BRAY on Flickr for this photo
Just an example of the amazingly detailed marble in the mandir. Thanks to CHARLES BRAY on Flickr for this photo!
We stopped off at the gift shop to check out a few things. I found a shrine which I considered purchasing for Princess Pennysnacks (ha, ha) but felt that was inappropriate. Roomie bought a comic book that tells the story of Krishna, “a very naughty boy” the 7-year-old salesgirl told us. Roomie was a great asset on this trip as she studied Philosophy in school and has an impressive wealth of knowledge when it comes to world religions; she provided some great insight that would’ve otherwise gone unnoticed.
Once we were outtie, Roomie had to head to her parents place and I continued back to the T.O. on my own. My next stop was the Flat Iron Building. It took well over an hour to reach my destination as I was heading from the outskirts of the city, where the subway line just starts. Unfortunately, as I approached the building, they were closing for lunch. I trekked over to my favourite bookstore, across the street and when I returned, there was an extremely large line waiting to get into the Flat Iron. Argh! I abandoned ship and went home. At least I reached one of the 2 locations I had selected for the day.
Tomorrow: THE DON JAIL and how I deal with nightmares…
Under Pressure May 17, 2009
I’ve been in blogging hibernation for a bit, I can’t even describe what a stressful 2 weeks I’d had. I’ve finally reached the light at the end of the tunnel and have time to relax and enjoy life again.
This September, I’m participating in the Weekend to End Breat Cancer, it’s a 2-day 60km walk through Toronto and all money raised goes to fund cancer research at the Princess Margaret Hospital, one of the top 5 cancer research facilities in the world. In order to participate in the weekend, I must raise at least $2,000. When I first heard that, I was intimidated to say the least but after the orientation, I was convinced that I could do it. So off I went shooting off emails to everyone I knew, asking for the “big give” which is taking someone out for a coffee and asking for $1,000. I’m 0 for 7 on this so far.
I’m feeling a bit defeated and intimidation is rising again. I’ve only raised 24% of my minimum goal and I’ve hit a bump in the road. What else can I do to fundraise? I’ve got a jar full of gummy worms sitting on my desk at work and am charging people to guess how many are in there. Winner gets it all. I’ve added the fundraising application to my facebook page but that’s been a dud so far. My dad has promised to get me $1,000 from all of his friends but it seems that he’s just left my donation forms on a table at their hangout spot. What else can I do?
I need some suggestions, have you got any?
And you know, if you’re in the charitable mood, visit my personal page and hit that donate button, but be sure to read my little blurb and check out my profile photo.
Photo courtesy of jnicholl81 on Flickr.
Expanding my Network May 17, 2009
How many times have you heard, “it’s not what you know, it’s who you know”? I don’t even think I’m able to count how many times I’ve not only heard this but spat these exact words out of my mouth.
Back when I was young able to go out on a week night and enjoy a few drinks without having to call in sick or late the next morning, I would be found, out with some friends and chatting up a few industry people to get my name out there. It’s a bit more difficult for me to get out there, maybe its because I’ve been out of the weeknight night life for so long and all I need are a few rough mornings to get me back into shape but I don’t know if I’ve got the energy for it.
I spent some time strategizing and planning on expanding my network and found an event that was just what I was looking for. Last week, Savoir Faire Professionals had a networking party. I was totally stoked for this event and really wanted to go and get to know ladies in the industry. Unfortunately, there was a conflict in my schedule: a) I had my office’s first softball game and I’m co-captain and b) it was on the 13th, days short of my “rich pay period”, funds were running pretty low and I simply couldn’t afford the $30 ticket. Too bad, so sad.
As I was wallowing in my lack of network self pity, I realized this networking thing doesn’t only mean meeting people outside your company. It can be used even after you’ve landed the job you love. I’ve made a point of joining several groups/teams in my office, especially when I first started. I wanted to get to know the people I worked with, whether directly or not and this was a perfect opportunity to chat them up. It was in these casual settings where I felt comfortable to show who I really am and not feel pressure to impress them, which would inevitebly lead me to make a fool of myself. You spend the time to get to know people and they will be willing to help you out when you need a favour.
There is one important key to this though. You must be genuine in building relationships with these people. They’re not idiots and can see right through someone who’s using them just to get ahead. That sort of desperation and manipulation doesn’t look good on anyone.
So although I missed an opportunity to meet several strangers, I got to spend some time with my coworkers and chat with a few people I haven’t met before and it was great, even though we lost BIG TIME.
