I resolve to be kinder to my liver

Sweet baby Jesus. It's only the 31st and already I'm as hungover as hell. That's what going out with a good friend for 'one drink' [which turned into 3 doubles] will get me.

Happy New Year's to everyone!

When your dreams don't come true

Today it hit me how spectacularly I have failed in life. Everything I set out to accomplish, everything I had hoped would happen - nil, nada, nothing. It's quite spectacular really in its breadth. To many people I'm not a failure at all, and I'm not looking for outside affirmation. But in the ways that I had hoped to succeed: I haven't. Today was discovering the most painful one of all. I'm tired to picking myself up and starting over. I will, but it's such a drag.

However, I do realize that I have succeeded in one area. I had a wonderful dinner with St.Dickeybird tonight and a splendid evening with EarthMother and her kids last night. I am rich in friends. And yes, that does mean something to me.

Let us vomit

I had heard a bit about a new healthy Toronto chain where you can get a custom made salad from a variety of greens they have, and so when one opened up near my work, I went to check it out. I like the philosophy of the owner Apparently he sources his ingredients daily from the St.Lawrence Market. I also like the idea of getting to create your own salad.

Imagine my disappointment when I entered only to see a garishly lit space with a cattle-type coral for the line-up and ingredients laid out in little plastic containers like a sub shop. Bought fresh that day or not, the items in the little containers looked sad and tired. Also, there was so much that wasn't there: no sprouts (besides alfalfa), no varieties of vegetarian protein beyond one type of tofu, and a horrid fast-food - sorry, that's 'quick service' - atmosphere. I had annoying counter guy babbling away while I tried to process the huge list of ingredients.

"Have you been here before?"

"No."

"I recommend the Cobb Salad. It's a little bit of everything."

I appreciate that he was just doing his job and he was very professional, but seriously? A Cobb salad? Are we back in the 70s?

I kept looking at the little plastic pots and at the avocado tinged with brown and I did something I rarely do - I walked out. I just didn't want to pay $8 for a salad that looked like it had been made at MacDonalds and came in a giant plastic bowl. Instead I went across the street to Le Gourmand and for $10 got a kick ass sandwich (with green avocado), and a sumptuous soup. Both of these were reasonable portions. Le Gourmand celebrates the joy of eating. Across the street is the other Toronto chain Fresh. They celebrate the joy of healthy eating. I felt that this restaurant was neither.

I think this is my real problem with it. The appeal is only if you are dedicated to the Zone and have to plan out your life going protein + carb + whatever. But there is no delicious celebration of food there. It seems so utilitarian. And I honestly don't see the difference between there salads and one from a more standard 'quick service' restaurant. What this place also falls into is the gross North American concept of huge portions. Yes, it's a salad, but do you need to eat the entire salad bowl? Their soups are mammoth as well. Why can't we all just learn to eat food joyously, healthily, and in smaller portions?

Again, Le Gourmand has delicious composed salads. So many delicious salads have to be made in advance in order for their flavours to meld. I am in rapture just thinking about the beet salad or the beautiful caprese salad with the red tomatos flanking the bocconcini - all flecked with fresh basil. Yum.

I suppose if you are in a strip mall and are surrounded by Tim Hortons, Subway, and Wendys, that an eatery of this type might be a valid alternative. However, for people who are surrounded by delicious food in downtown Toronto, I see this new chain as a blight on the culinary landscape.

A crap rhyme to explain my crap mood

I liked his body I liked his mind
I liked the fact he was so kind
He brought me to orgasm time and again
[a feat not accomplished by many men]
I told him stories I never share
- not even during Truth or Dare
I fooled myself, I really thought
that he was looking for more than just my twat
but yet my inner voice said, "Sue.
This guy is not that into you"
[I fucking hate that book and how
I'm forced to use that title now]

I went and spoke to him last night
And found it sucks to have been right.



So forgive me. I won't be blogging or visiting many blogs in the coming days. I'm shattered into little pieces and need some time to put me back together.

My favourite Kids in the Hall skit...

I aspire to be a Girl Drink Drunk.

The Count and I - Part II

The summer after my parents succeeded in terrifying R. and I by seeing the play Dracula, we went back to Scotland for the entire summer [like good little immigrants]. For a couple of weeks of that trip, my oldest brother hung out in Scotland with two of my aunts, while R. and I travelled around England with my parents visiting old friends of theirs.

One night we went to stay in some town. When we got to the inn, the innkeeper told us that it was full, and redirected us to a tiny, tiny town which had a few houses, a pub, and another inn with a few available rooms. It was one of those foggy English nights and was already dark by the time we reached the old inn. The inn had a grand staircase leading up to the cold, drafty rooms. My brother R. and I immediately realized that the first [and more modern] inn had not in fact been full, but that the innkeeper had just resent us to Dracula's castle because Dracula needed to feed. After all, there was a cemetery right behind the inn. Dracula was just waiting to rise from his grave once we were in bed.

We were at the foot of the grand staircase, scared out of our minds. My brother asked my parents if they had some garlic. My father, sensitive soul that he is, asked my mother: What the hell's wrong with them?

When my mother informed him that we were convinced that we were staying at Dracula's castle, my father just thought that was the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard. No sympathy there. To make matters worse, unlike modern North American motels/hotels we were used to, this inn was freezing cold and there were no adjoining rooms. Instead my brother and I were sharing a room down the hall from our parents. Our fear was mounting with every second.

Oddly enough, according to my brother R., I fell asleep within minutes of us climbing into the one bed in that isolated room, leaving him to stay awake as long as possible to protect us both. Somehow I don't recall that. What I do know is that although the Count decided to spare us that night, the evening only served to increase our fear/fascination with vampires.