Mary Had A Little Lamb

Poor Nina spent a little too much time in boarding in the past few months. The end result? A bad case of matted fur. The groomer had to crop it all down. She now looks like a miniature sheared lamb.

She hated the whole experience - the clippers, the vacuum, the bath and the dryer. She came home really, really pissed off. To make matters worse, it's winter and the poor thing is cold. I tried a jacket on her yesterday and she detested it like "the Donald" hates Rosie. She refused to move in it.

Neither of us slept well last night. She was probably too cold in her usual sleeping spot, and I had to wipe pee off the floor at 3am. Today's been hell trying to clean up the frequent mess at home. During my much needed evening nap, I finally caved in and took her up on the bed with me. That's been my one hygiene rule so far - no Nina on the bed. Well, she just seemed so cold & miserable today, I couldn't leave her out.

Tonight, I've once again put the jacket on her, hoping she gets used to it. It's been an ordeal. Aside from a few steps to fetch a treat, she's refusing to move. She's been in the same spot for the past 15 minutes, giving me the "how could you?" look and emitting heart-wrenching whimpers once in a while. I'll take the jacket off now and resign myself to one more day of cleaning crap off the floor.

Days like this make me wonder if I made a mistake.

My Job

Barcelona

Pictures speak a thousand words, but sometimes the heart just wants to sing. Enjoy this photo essay.

Gaudi

Park Guell
Originally uploaded by fotoluvr.

Click to enter the whimsical world of Antoni Gaudi.

Visa

visa: noun
1. an endorsement made on a passport by the proper authorities denoting that it has been examined and that the bearer may proceed
2. an entirely unnecessary & protracted bureaucratic formality

At least me thinks so. Today I can Google someone's name and find out all kinds of thing about a person. For a few dollars, I can instantly search public government records on the Internet. Why then can't border/customs people do the same for travellers? In this day and age of instant-everything, it's silly to require a tedious, tree-unfriendly, slow process just to ask permission to ask permission to enter a country. No, that's not a typo. Barring few countries like the UK, a visa is merely a permission to ask permission to enter. Why then should one have to photocopy one's whole life story, fill out a four page form, pay a fee and wait in the dark as the mysterious bureaucratic gears turn in eerie slience?

I have spent the last three days in a state of perturbation thanks to the bureaucratic inefficiences of the government of Spain. Nothing ranks lower in a government's list of priorities than issuing visas to travellers. It's very obvious in the customer service, or lack thereof, at consular offices throughout the world. The consulate of España decided to move offices just as I finished printing a whole forest worth of paperwork for my application. So, I hauled a trunk full of paperwork to their new office the day it re-opened and got merely a promise to try to process it on time. A phone call this Monday got me a callous, disheartening response: "I've processed your visa but waiting on approval from the ministry. I don't expect to get it before Christmas". Click.

I digested this fact in horror as months of preparation, not to mention expenses were hanging by a thread. If they didn't get the approval by today, I would not make my flight on the 27th. Lots of frantic emails flew around, potential workarounds were thrown out and I finally decided the sane option would be to stay home if this fell through. I had resigned my fate to the inevitable. My friends responded with party invitation and alternate plans for New Years eve.

Today was D-day. I put on my crappy/happy face, grabbed a latte and somehow, between here & Bloor, managed to pull it together so I wouldn't punch Señora Torre in the face. I carried my sour face up to floor 12 and spelled out my last name to an oldish Spanish lady. "One moment", she said. "Ah - here it is." And right there, just like magic, was my passport with a shiny new visa!!! I conjured up a happyish face, said a polite thank you and walked out staring in disbelief at the document in my hands.

Barcelona - here I come!!!!

Migration Complete

After several weeks of constant prodding by 'the Google', I moved this blog to blogger beta. Also decided it's time for a new template. Hope everyone can find their way back here eventually.

Slump

I've been in a bloging slump these past few months. Well - I've generally been in a slump. A friend just pointed out that it's obvious from my blog entries (or lack thereof). So, I thought I'd blog about that :)

Somewhere over the past year, I've seen my carefree, jovial state of mind erode away. This year, I've actually had to apply myself at work. Also, some changes this summer led to a more focused effort on my part to be successful. Obviously this has come at the expense of my personal life & sanity. It's time to stop this and return to a more 'normal' existence - i.e. getting drunk 3 nights a week.

Just kidding. It's obvious I need to find a better work/life balance. How does one go about doing that?

Lots of questions and decisions ahead. I hope the two weeks off will help clear my head.

Light & Dark

I was told this is the reason the CN tower is practically invisible at night.

I think it's a bit over the top - akin to stopping all construction work because hibernating squirrels might suffer in the process.

Lights have been fundamental to human culture for millenia. We build things, we decorate them, we light them up. Light is scientifically proven to stimulate the mind and prevent depression. It's even more important when you're in the upper reaches of the temperate belt and average 8 hours or less of daylight each day.

Toronto also has some of the cheapest electricity in North America. Yet, we pale in comparison to most North American cities when it comes to lighting up our public spaces. Public spaces are just those - spaces for people to congregate, celebrate and feel good about life and the city they live in. Yet, we give them dour, dark spaces to call home. Take a walk down Yonge St and you might be forgiven for forgetting it's Xmas season. Where's the cheer? It's a thousand feet up in the sky with the migratory birds.

(Disclaimer: This piece was written by someone prone to SAD).

Furball

She loves sticking her tongue out like that.

Rio in Pictures

Celebration

Today is a good day to be an American. Today we've witness the forces of democracy turn the tide against incompetent, arrogant leaders and bring a new wave of hope to the world. Congratulations to all Americans who worked hard to make this happen.

Cidade Maravilhosa

Beautiful bodies. Smooth, defined and tanned to various shades of orange. Skimpily covered beautiful bodies. Hundreds of them. No, thousands. Everywhere you look. Little is left to the imagination. A thin layer of lycra away from complete nudity. Surfing, swimming, walking, playing or just lounging by a shack sipping agua de coco or Skol.

The only distraction from the beautiful bodies are the mountains. Scraggy, forested peaks jutting up everywhere you look. Favelas draped on them like moss. Tunnels weaving through them, hopelessly trying to reunite what nature tried to divide.

First impressions of Rio de Janeiro.

Little Actors

Ever wonder where they get those tiny babies that magically appear from under the hospital gown? Ever wonder about that gooey stuff they're covered in? Ever wonder what it takes to make them cry? A pinch? A spanking?

All I know is I'm never lending any baby of mine to play a newborn on a TV show.

Ghost

Can you see it?

R U Real?

Here's a fine example of makeup & Photoshop transforming an everyday woman into Billboard Barbie.

Fall

Small Penis Syndrome?

More Fear Mongering

San Jose, California. Local news. Special investigative report. The results of an extensive scientific study show that - OMG - school kids spread germs!!! Scientists carefully sprinkled glow-in-the-dark powder on one kid and watched as it spread throughout the class. The thoughtful lady on the television then proceeded to "inform" us of the wide variety of hand sanitizers available to protect our kids from these deadly germs.

I have several issues with this news report. First - anyone with an IQ in the double digits or higher should know that school kids share everything, not just germs. Yes, parents, your kids are eating - gasp - other people's lunches! Secondly, there are trillions & trillions of bacteria all around us - in the air, on our skins, inside our digestive systems, inside our respiratory systems and practically all parts of the body. We develop immunity to the bad ones by being exposed to them during childhood. Take away this essential aspect of development and we're weak for life. Thirdly, nowhere in the news report did they extoll the virtues of proper hand-washing, which removes most newly acquired germs. Finally, frequent use of hand-sanitizers is actually bad for you. There are strains of deadly, resistant bacteria that survive in this environment. You just eliminated all their competition and helped them thrive!

So let's face it parents - schools are a breeding ground for microbes - but so is the rest of the world. Unless you want to raise a family of bubble-boys, teach your kids proper hygiene, keep some Tylenol on hand and let nature take it's course.

Food for Thought

America

Thumbing through my iTunes music collection, I came across a song I haven't heard in ages. America by Simon & Garfunkel. A simple, silly song that magically captures the spirit of youth and that of a nation. It takes me back to when I was younger and exploring a new land. This, I thought, would be a good epilogue to the prior post.

Let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together
I've got some real estate here in my bag
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies
And walked on to look for America

"Cathy," I said, as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now"
It took me four days to hitch-hike from Saginaw
I've gone to look for America

Laughing on the bus, playing games with the faces
She said the man in the gabardine suit is a spy
I said be careful his bow-tie is really a camera

"Pass me a cigarette I think there's one in my raincoat"
"We smoked the last one an hour ago"
So I looked at the scenery, and she read a magazine
The moon rose over an open field

"Cathy, I'm lost", I said though I knew she was sleeping
I'm empty and aching and I don't know why
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They've all gone to look for America

The End of Innocence

As I sit here on this Monday morning, sipping a cup of tea, I'm taken back to this same morning, five yeas ago. That's the morning everything changed. For a city, for a country, and for me. What began as yet another day in paradise turned into a journey of anger, fear, disgust and soul searching.

While the American media, this morning, focuses on the human face of this tragedy, there's another aspect often overlooked. This is the morning when a certain innocence was lost. Decades of invincibility came to an end for a nation and its people. While the twin towers may have seemed like ugly monstrosities to most Americans and even some New Yorkers, to the rest of the world they were the ultimate symbol of an idealogy. Towering temples to the human spirit, unleashed through the forces of capitalism to go forth produce its best. An ideology that brought peace and prosperity (and some might say decadence) to almost 300 million people. An ideology that most of the developing world looked up to. They stood proud like lighthouses - shining beacons of hope to billions. Standing in the lobby, or up on the rooftop, one couldn't have felt more safe & secure in these edifices of steel and concrete.

That's why they were brought down. It wasn't a murder of people, but the attempted murder of an ideology. Yes, thousands of people died, but people who focus on that completely miss the point. If the loss of human life is more important, what about the thousands who die of meaningless gun violence every year? What about the thousands who died of AIDS in the 80s as an administration joked about the crisis? What about the hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians who die every year in Iraq, Darfur, Lebanon, Palestine or Sri Lanka? Does a human life automatically become more important by virtue of being in a certain building on 9/11/01?

What really came down that day was the American spirit - a spirit that gave us the towers in the first place. A spirit so destroyed, that today, five years later, there is no sign of rebuilding. A fraction of the $500 billion that have been spent in Iraq, could have given us, in a couple of years at most, shining new symbols to replace the fallen ones. We would've been redeemed. The world's best architects rushed in with plans to fill the void. Instead, they've been overrun by bean counters concerned about square footage & insurance payouts. People don't want to work on higher floors, they say. Yet, people will happily move to Florida and build homes on former marsh land directly in the path of a hurricane. My alien mind fails to grasp this.

Something else happened on 9/11/01. It brought the entire thinking world together, in solidarity with the American people, in defense of our values of freedom & democracy. Even socialist Parisian newspapers proclaimed "We Are All Americans". Offers of support came pouring in. It was a unique opportunity to put extremism to an end and bring the same peace and prosperity to a neglected part of the world. Instead, I watched as a corrupt administration and an ill-informed population squandered it away. I watched as they sowed the seeds of a new wave of unrest. I watched as they turned on minorities within their own nation. It suddenly turned from a war of economic & social ideologies into a war of straight, white Christians against brown Muslims - and everyone else. Suddenly grandma was being wiretapped, brown people (such as myself) were greeted at the border with sneers and citizens were being lifted out of homes and transported to secret detention camps without trial. A whole new generation witnessed the ugly side of American power.

Since 9/11, I've been struggling to understand and find the true American values that made this nation what it is. I'd like to believe it was "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness". However, 9/11 also brought out certain voices that portray a much darker picture. A picture of greed and imperialist oppression dating back to the 19th century. I don't know what to believe anymore. However, I certainly know that I do not identify with the values portrayed on CNN and Fox News.

Politics is an ugly game.

Party of Death?

What is it with Indian-Americans joining the ranks of conservative bigots? Here's another one to the fray. Ramesh Ponnuru writes a book, provocatively titled "The Party of Death: The Democrats, the Media, the Courts, and the Disregard for Human Life". For added effect, it even has a quote from Ann Coulter on the cover. Wow. I'm really impressed. Makes me want to rush out and buy it. Puke.

I'm trying to understand this phenomenon of people of Indian descent, such as Dinesh D'Souza, Bobby Jindal, Raj Bhakta and now Ramesh Ponnuru, joining the ranks of conservative idealogues. I've always cherished the belief that Indian values - specifically Hindu values - and by Hindu I don't mean the mosque-demolishing, saffron-wearing fundamentalist flavor - I mean the organic, harmonious traditions that evolved in the sub-continent over thousands of years - always espoused liberal social values and a balanced view of economics & statehood. Why then, do children of such a culture, raised in a foreign land grow up to be so conservative? Is there a deep rooted psychological need to overcompensate for their brownness and fit in?

Let's take the case of Bobby Jindal. Growing up in racially tense Louisiana, Bobby chose to "fit in" by converting to Christianity. Unfortunaltey, that didn't turn him white a la Michael Jackson so during high school he converted to Catholicism - an even more conservative flavor of religion. Today, Bobby is probably as desi as Michael Jackson is black. I cringe every time I see an Indian diasporic organization fete him.

Everyone's entitled to their opinons and beliefs. However, I find it unnerving that there is such an overwhelming tilt towards conservatism amongst Indian-Americans. Where are the voices on the other side of the camp?

Nina

Say hello to Nina. She's a 10 week old purebred Shih Tzu. Came home Sunday.

... oh and the pink bow-tie was not my idea.

Who's your daddy?

UN observation post on Israel/Lebanon border.

Ruffled Feathers

Seems like the Brita commercial I talked about here might have ruffled some feathers. It now sports a disclaimer:

Municipally supplied water has been treated to make it safe for drinking

The whole commercial looks quite ridiculous now. They should just pull it.

Disgusting

This is just plain disgusting. The news business is so ugly. Ugh.

Random Observation

I'm finally catching up on Desperate Housewives: Season 2 and I have to say this. This show has turned into a glossier version of the Jerry Springer Show. Behind the pretty picket fences and flower-lined yards, these people are living like trashy low life. Also, I can't figure out why all the gay writers in Hollywood can't write a decent, realistic gay character on a mainstream show. Andrew is SO NOT like any gay guy I've known. He's a complete contradiction.

As much as I loved Season 1, I can't wait for this show to get the axe.

Domestic Bliss

I'm loving the new condo. The colours are starting to work. I can feel the space speaking to me. Accent colours are starting to pop out of everyday objects. I'm loving the spaciousness. My last apartment (which cost about the same) felt like a shoebox in comparison. I'm loving the wide-open east views. I'm loving the wrap-around kitchen. I'm loving my new home office. I'm loving the little park downstairs. I'm never moving out of this place.

Fear-Mongering

Just watched a Brita commercial. The tagline goes something like this.

"Water for your tap and toilet come from the same source. Brita - for water than is 98% pure".

I see so many things wrong with this reasoning, I don't know where to start. Are people really that stupid or paranoid (or both)? Isn't it obvious that all water ultimately comes from the same source? When I see a tagline like this, my initial reaction is - "omg, we're wasting drinkable fresh water in toilets." Not - "I'm drinking toilet water."

Am I weird, or is that commercial just a blatant example of fear-mongering?

True Colors

Here's Virginia Senator and likely Presidential candidate, George Allen. He's referring to a desi from his opponent's camp shooting a documentary film. I get a kick out of watching conservative bigots slip up and show their true colors. Just one of the many reasons I dislike the Republican party.

Forgotten

Amongst all the syndicated reruns of Seinfeld, Friends, Sex and the City, Simpsons, Family Guy and "Law & Order: Special Criminal Victims Disappeared Without a Trace in CSI Miami", one show is conspicuously absent. Ally McBeal.

The show was funny, sassy & original. Calista Flockhat brought something fun & fresh to the screen. I could sure use some Ally reruns.

Speaking of Calista, has anyone seen her lately? I think she went on another diet and disappeared into thin air. Someone please feed her a Tic-Tac so we can catch a wisp of her. Honey - if they can't see you, they won't hire you!

Newflash

This just in. Krispy Kreme opened their latest donut shop in ... guess where?

Hong Kong.

Wonder if they'll have green-tea donuts.

Technicolor Nightmares

Help! I'm going insane!

A few hours wandering around the empty rooms of my new condo have convinced me that the muddy, depressing shade of yellow on the walls has to go! I wish there was an 'erase tool' for wall colours but there isn't. You actually have to paint over with another colour - of your choice. That sounds easier than it is. There are only about a bajillion different shades to choose from.

It gets better. Whatever shade I choose has to go with the dark wood floors and the snow-white doors and kitchen cabinets. And did I mention the bathrooms? Black tiles with greenish veins. Yeah. My brain feels like a blender at a vegan juice bar - with assorted multi-coloured fruits being thrown in to create an odd-looking cocktail. Arrrrghhhh.

I have all of tomorrow to scour the paint stores for chips that work, try out testers and be ready for when my budget-painter arrives on Wednesday morning. I have actually had nightmares with colour wheels hovering menacingly over my bed and my condo being critiqued on a TV makeover show.

Ugh. Too much stress. I think I'm just going to settle for a basic peachy beige that'll accentuate the wood floor. Nightmare-be-gone.

Condo Update

I am now the proud owner of (allegedly) 1100 sq ft of living space in Toronto. It's not a little parcel of Canada, but it's a place to live, as long as I keep shelling out the monthly fees. Doesn't feel the same as when I bought my last place. Maybe because it's a condo. Maybe because I've done it before.

I'll have the keys in a few hours, and then the mayhem begins. The process of uprooting & rearranging my life. I move next week. It was stressful the last time. I hope it's easier this time. And more fun - cause I get to redecorate the place :)

Hot Cross Buns

A tragic side-effect of growing up in a former colony are the vestiges of colonial culture that make absolutely no sense to a developing mind. Like old English nursery rhymes.

"Hot cross buns, Hot cross buns, one a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns, If you have no daughters, give them to your sons, one a penny, two a penny, Hot Cross Buns"

After 30 years of existence, I finally know what the fuss is all about. Discovered at a bakery in St. Lawrence Market. Five minutes in a warm oven yields a delicious, crusty treat scattered with sweet raisins and the obligatory cross on top. I doubt this is the original English version, but hey - it's a hot cross bun!

We Are The World

Came across this interesting video that features an ensemble cast from Bollywood. It seems, from the red ribbon, that it's some kind of AIDS benefit. Could the readers in India enlighten us?

Montréal

City Hall
Originally uploaded by fotoluvr.

Montreal in pictures

Au Revoir

A hidden benefit of living in Canada is that you can visit another country without a passport. Québec, a mere 4 hour train ride north-east of Toronto, is culturally a world apart. Montréal is where it all comes together - a clash of Anglo-Saxon and French culture that explodes in majestic, tree-lined avenues, elegant parks and a joie de vivre that makes it the most vibrant city in Canada. I just returned from a very pleasant three days in that city and will surely be back for more. Meanwhile I have some French to brush up on.

The Devil Wears Prada

It's summer in Toronto, the city is awake, the tourists are back, the days are long and I have little reason to stay indoors. I am going to Montreal in a few hours. Packing is underway.

This is quickly turning into a movie review blog. That's not by design. I write about anything that's on my mind and this summer, movies are about the only thing I can focus on without distraction.

Last night I watched "The Devil Wears Prada". A slick, stylish well made movie with a lot of substance. Everyone looks gorgeous. Everything looks beautiful. The story resounds. I later found out that much of the "Sex and the City" team worked on this movie. It shows.

The movie is about a bright, exceptional young girl who gives up Stanford Law to leave her mark in the world of journalism. Instead she lands the job of second assistant to an icy high-priestess of fashion publishing, a job a million fashionistas would die for. She hates the scene, but, like anyone right out of college, is determined to prove herself and survive. She soon realizes the only way in is by being one of them - a Chanel-clad fashionista. Everything else takes a back-seat. This job could open doors for her. It's a cause worth sacrificing one's personal life, family and friends for. Or so it seems when one is 25 and living in the halls of power. The glamour, the parties, the celebrities. It's addictive. Will Andrea join the ranks of the clones, or will she walk away and pursue her real dreams? Read the book or watch the movie.

"That's all."

Requiem for a Dream

Just finished watching it. I am seriously disturbed. Words fail me.

Prime

Is it true that we peak in our 20s, and it's all downhill from there?

I just finished watching the movie "Proof" and it got me thinking. My academic life certainly went that way. My professional & personal life is heading that way too. Maybe I need to set more modest goals for myself.

Sobering Thoughts

Now that the festivities are over, it's time to reflect a bit. I consider myself immensely fortunate to be in a city and a country that espouses equality for all. It's not everywhere in the world that you find all tiers of government, law enforcement, public services, education and healthcare organizations come out and march in solidarity with the queer community. I never saw anything like this during my 8 years in DC.

The parade began with a sombre reminder that there are parts of the world today where people are persecuted, tortured or killed for who they are. Today we enjoy the fruits of many years of activism by brave individuals who swam against the tide and earned us a legitimate place in society. What took years to achieve could be undone in a matter of months. We must never take these rights of granted. Every new generation needs to remember that.

What does it mean to have a "Pride" parade in this day and age? A pride parade is a continuous reminder to the world that we exist. That the majority heterosexual population cannot afford to ignore us and erode away our rights. That we've been around for a long long time, and that we'll continue to be around forever. Today, at least in major Western cities, no one's afraid to strut around and be themselves in the gay ghettos. However, it takes a certain courage to uphold the same ideals when suddenly you're not in the majority anymore. It takes courage to show your face to the world. That's what Pride is all about.

Five Seconds of Fame

During my days in the closet, I'd avoid obviously gay events like Pride fests, for fear of being seen, or worse still accidentally ending up in a newspaper photo. I opened today's Toronto Star, jumped to page A9, which featured a full-page spread on the Pride Parade. And there I was! On the sidelines. Smiling at the excellent photo op presented by the "lady" in white, on a shiny red car. Standing next to me is my dear friend S, who fought a hangover to come watch the parade with me.

Surreal

This video almost has a Zen-like quality, if you watch it with the right mindset.

Weekend Update

I'm chilling in my living room, feet up on the ottoman, wishing I had a personal masseuse at my beck and call. My lower extremeties hurt like hell. It's been a tiring, but fun weekend. The Pride festival rages on outside my windows.

Today I witnessed one of the longest, largest Pride parades ever. Yonge St was elaborately cordoned off. Shirtless men & women were strategically located on sidewalks, streets, balconies throughout. The porn studio had a rooftop party full of hot men with squirt guns aimed at the crowds. I clawed my way to a decent spot by the fence, camera in hand. Droves of proud people walked by in some of the most outrageous outfits, dancing, singing, yelling, having a good time. The local government came out in full support. I stood by watching the mayor, local MPs, police chiefs, mounties, city councillors and would-be PMs walk by showing their support for (and raking votes from) the queer community. The South Asian float was kinda disappointing. They drove by too fast and everyone seemed too self-obsessed. The drag queens were prancing as usual. No one reached out to the crowds. No one paused and smiled.

Yonge St has officially turned into a zoo. A quick foray into the gay village revealed utter chaos - it was packed with curb-to-curb people. A hasty retreat and a much need meal at Biryani House wrapped up a long and tiring weekend of festivities for me. The parties will go on into tomorrow but I'm done. I have over a thousand pictures to sift through.

Through all this craziness, I managed to find time to buy a condo! Yes - I am soon to be the owner of a nice condo on Bay St. It took a little haggling but we finally agreed on a price and the deal is done! We close August 1st, after which I have to decorate and move in. So much to do - so little time.

Polite Cities

According to a Readers' Digest survey, Toronto is the 3rd most polite city in the world, after NYC and Zurich. Yes - NYC!!! Seems lopsided, doesn't it? They also ranked Montreal pretty low on the list, which is the complete opposite of my experience.

As big cities go, Toronto is unusually polite. Zurich I can understand, but we were beaten by New York??? New York????? Give me a break.

Condo Hunting

Inspired by my tryst with real estate two weeks ago, I called an agent and saw some condos this weekend. It's nice to see places and actually get time to think about them - unlike when I bought in DC where the sharks would start circling even before the "For Sale" sign went up.

My search began two blocks down from my current place on Bay St. Very nice building but the lobby felt like a fancy hotel. The unit was bright, spacious with a newly installed, gorgeous, dark wood floor. The walls were freshly painted a cheerful shade of yellow. A nice surprise was a large storage room right by the entrance. The kitchen and bathrooms looked spanking new but the design was more 90s.

After seeing a couple of nice, but dated, "Golden Girl" units around the St. Lawrence market area, we moved on to the RIchmond/Spadina area. First building looked quite modern but gave off a weird vibe. The build quality looked poor and the windows hadn't been washed in over a year. The unit turned out to be a 1+den, and decorated on a scrappy budget. Horrible. Next one was a really stylish building on the corner of Richmond & Spadina. The unit was in good condition, however looking out from the 4th floor, it felt like I could reach out and touch the Spadina streetcars. The noise was ok with windows closed, but unbearable with them open. Although the price was attractive, can you really put a price on peace-of-mind? That was it for Sunday.

Today took us to another unit on Richmond W. A real loft with 12' ceilings and exposed ductwork. Bright, spacious, modern and sexy. The condo reeked of money and man. You could smell the testosterone in the air. It was the kind of place that makes you want to just get naked, lie down and scream "take me"!! The space could totally work for me ;) Except one problem - huge redecoration effort - all my furniture/accessories would be horribly out of place. It's also a mixed-use building (a quick walk down the hallway revealed a modeling agency) - which mean strangers have free access to the building during the day. Not cool for security.

On we went to Radio City - a spanking new, high-rise complex that came up last year by the gay village. We walked past scores of rainbow flags draped across balconies, fags wearing rainbow Tees and a lesbian concierge to the 15th floor unit with southwest views of the financial district and the CN tower. Other than the views, and the gas-cooking (a rarity in condos), the unit was disappointing. That wrapped up another day of condo-viewing.

So which one will it be? I think you can guess. Stay tuned!

Blogging

Home

Sometime during my inebriated bar-hopping last night, I stumbled upon a "For Sale" sign outside an imposing attractive looking townhouse between Yonge & Church Streets - steps from the village. I joked to my friends that this would be a house worth keeping a high-stress job for. I guess they were sober enough to point out that there would be an open house today.

So this afternoon, on I went through the ornate, wrought iron gates into what turned out to be a cozy little courtyard of townhouses. The stone steps led to pretty front porches with flower planters and a very homely atmosphere. The house turned out to be a relatively new, beautiful 4-level townhome with a 2-car garage. Well laid out, bright, airy with 1800 sq.ft. of space to go around. All of the asking price of $639K, soon to be "reduced substantially". Now before anyone croaks, let me put this in perspective. A 2-bedroom, 1200 sq.ft. condo in a good building in Toronto will set you back by at least $450K, not to mention monthly maintenance. Considering the location, size and ambience, this house seemed like heaven. It brought back memories from my place in Virgina. Back then, I used to joke that if I could transplant my townhouse from the suburbs into the middle of DC, I'd never leave. This house seemed like just that. Barely two blocks away from my current place, it seemed like an oasis of seclusion and comfortable living. Happy, domestic thoughts came back.

I could afford this place if I rented out one or two of the bedrooms. It would still be steep, but not much more than I'm paying in rent right now. However, houses come with a lot of maintenance. Am I ready for the responsibilities again? What about my 6-month vacation plans? What if I find myself out of a job? Do I really need a place this big? Am I ready for domestic life again?

In a way, I feel lighter right now not having to worry about home maintenance. I write one check a month and that covers everything. I call maintenance if the door sticks. I can choose put my things in storage, leave this place and go away if I wanted. There's a sense of freedom. However, that house felt right. It felt good. It felt like I belonged. It woke up something inside of me.

Life is full of difficult decisions and most of mine have been impulsive ones. However, in this case, I'm going to let discretion win. I am going to step aside and let someone else make it their home. Sigh.

Where's Ameet?

Fountain
Originally uploaded by fotoluvr.

Photo class is over. I now have a stack of beautiful black & white prints to admire, and maybe someday, frame. So what's next?

While the lessons I learnt in the darkroom are useful, they're not sustainable. Traditional photography is on its death-bed, and the trick is to transfer those processes to a digital darkroom. With a few tips from the instructor, I am now churning out near-professional quality prints out of my humble Epson.

Meanwhile, I've been trigger happy this weekend. A combination of good weather and the "Doors Open" heritage festival meant I was out the whole weekend clicking pictures. The processed ones are on flickr. Check them out.

Cartoon

Tom Toles, Washington Post.

Happy Mommy's Day

... to all the wonderful moms out there who sacrified so much to bring us into the world. Spending a weekend with my sister and her 10 month old son gives me newfound appreciation for the art of child-raising. I knew it was hard - but not THAT hard. You girls rock!

More Prints

Perspectives
Originally uploaded by fotoluvr.

Uploaded some more B&W prints on Flickr. Take a look and feel free to leave comments.

Shrinking Sleeves

There is a conspiracy brewing against the biceps-challenged. Notice how shirt sleeves are getting shorter and shorter this summer? Makes my average arms look like chopsticks. Between my personal life and my job, time left over for pumping iron is a scarce luxury. I don't need to feel any more guilty about it. I will brave out this summer in last year's Tees. Sigh.

Hope

Today's Sex and the City line:

If the world's fattest twins can find love, there's hope for all of us.

Colour Returns

Yorkville
Originally uploaded by fotoluvr.

There are two rolls of undeveloped black and white film sitting on my kitchen counter - mocking me. I won't know how they turned out till I print something in class on Tuesday. Seeking some instant gratification, I picked up my digital camera and went on a shooting spree. Click on the pic to see the results.

Foto

I'm taking a photography class to learn the darkroom process. We had our first printing session yesterday. Here's a scan of my first successful print!! It took about 5 tries to get it right, but it finally worked!


The picture is a clocktower on Yonge St. You can see the top of First Canadian Place (BMO tower) in the background.

Black and white pictures really force you to think about contrast, exposure and composition. I miss colour, but I need to get the basics down first.

Guess Who?

Can you guess who's this celebrity enjoying (supposedly) private time? A friend sent this pic - but I'm not convinced. I'd like to see if any of my blog readers can guess.

Spring Cleaning

What does a single gay man do on a rainy, April weekend morning? Clean his wardrobe!

Anyone who lives in a temperate climate endures a bi-annual ritual known as "changing of the wardrobe". A long, arduous, linty, sneezy affair. It involves taking down everything from the hangers and folding everything into two neat piles, one for storage and one for Goodwill. That's only half the task. The other half is opening your storage boxes and taking out all those skimpy, short-sleeved summer clothes, trying them on to see what fits, discarding the ones that are oh-so-last-year and hanging up the ones that could still work. Ok - there is some washing and pressing involved, but how much can you do in one day?

There's a refreshing, misty, cool breeze blowing in through the open window. Perfect weather for some pakodas and chai.

TV Wisdom

The Toronto Star ran this piece on all the "wise" things we hear on TV. Here's an interesting one from Brenda on Six Feet Under.

"Academia is one huge circle jerk. All the sequestered people defending the one good idea they've had in their lives."

Is that why they have tenure?

Washington DC

Literary Gem?

"His penis is so beautiful ... I just want to knit it a hat"
-from the movie "Prime".

That line threw me into a loop. When I see a penis, tiny woolen hats are the last thing on my mind. I don't knit either. I dabbled in some crochet as a kid, but that's another story. In fact, I don't look at penises that much. I don't find them visually attractive. I am more interested in the bodies they are attached to. And the only hat I want to see on a penis is a rubber one.

What to do - I'm like this only.

[A little inside joke - for those who watched MTV India in the mid 90s.]

Sone Ki Chidiya

Saffron

That's the source. As beautiful as the aroma and flavor it exudes.


Came across this picture on Wikipedia and just had to post it.

Washington Bound

It's been 9 months since I left the DC area. Washington DC has the most beautifully landscaped public spaces in North America. Every Spring, they reward us with a splendid display of nature's bounty. Starting with the cherry blossoms that blanket parts of the city, the manicured trees and lawns of the National Mall burst forth with fresh green foliage, rinsed clean by the April showers. Cool, crisp Spring breezes make exploring the city on foot a delight.

This April I have the opportunity to visit my beloved city once again. Following a training class on Thursday in Reston, I will be spending the long weekend (it's Good Friday) with my dear friends in Washington DC.

Meanwhile, here are some pictures I took around DC last Spring.

Spring

Spring is in the air. The mercury has been climbing. The sun's out in full force. The street musicians are back. So are the sketch artists and vendors. Most importantly, the tourists are back! Nothing says Spring in Toronto like the hordes of American tourists.

Random observation. There are two neo-classical edifices on Yonge St - just North of Queen. They're each about the width of a typical storefront. Separating them is a driveway leading to some uninteresting buildings. The gap seems oddly out of place - as if the structures were once connected - part of a larger structure. Got my curiosity going.

Another random observation. The area South of Bloor and just West of Spadina has some beautiful homes. Each decorated to the nines. Remided me of the homes around Dupont Circle in DC.

Walls Do Talk

She snuck into the building right behind me, carrying a tray of leftover sandwiches. About 5'2" tall and slightly overweight. She wore a bright red spring jacket. I had never seen her before. We both walked briskly towards the waiting elevator. She hit #15 - my floor. Could it be? I brushed aside the thought. The elevator stopped at #4 and the other guy got off. I began the small talk, "I guess that's dinner". ".. and lunch", she quipped. "I am stuffed, but my boyfriend is probably starving", she added. The elevator stopped at #15. "After you", I said. She walked out. I reached for my keys and walked to #1501. She stopped at #1502 - the apartment next door. We both looked at each other. A silent acknowledgement.

She fakes them quite well.

Random Thought

Isn't it ironic that when you have lots of time, you have no money to do stuff, and when you have the money, you have no time to do stuff?

15 Park Avenue

My vegetative state last evening, thanks to a neck cramp, was a convenient excuse for some heavier TV watching. I popped in the DVD for 15 Park Avenue, mixed up some salad, poured me some wine and watched the movie. (On an unrelated note, when they say Ibuprofen and alcohol will give you stomach ulcers, they mean business. My gut feels sand-papered this morning).

Aparna Sen is a good director who, for untold reasons, happens to be obsessed with street addresses. 15 Park Avenue comes across as an attempt to bring art cinema to the Indian masses. Pick a contentious social issue, throw in some talented actors and film most of it in exotic locales. That Aparna Sen formula, which I first encountered in Mr. & Mrs. Iyer, has been carried forward to this movie.

The contentious social issue is mental disorders (with rape thrown in). The talented actors include Konkona Sen Sharma - who delivers, Rahul Bose - whose talents are completely wasted, Shabana Azmi - who mostly plays herself and Waheeda Rehman - who has limited opportunities to shine, but shine she does. Shefali Shetty (Ria from Monsoon Wedding) gives an highly underrated performance in a supporting role. The exotic locale is the Kingdom of Bhutan - rarely seen by the outside world.

The actors put in a good effort, however the end result comes across as uncoordinated. The cinematography comes across as too flat. This was probably intentional, as any creative use of lighting effect renders Indian cinema to the dusty depths of the"art-movie" pile. (My mom's words echo in my mind -"what a dull movie - it's always so dark".)

The plot is revealed slowly and carefully. The characters build up over time. We can soon put the pieces together. And just when we felt everything was coming together, the movie ends. Like a dangling sentence. Leaving us to stop and think, and reflect on Meethi's existence. This much-disliked ending was my favorite part of the movie.

Friday Humor

Brokeback Mountain in 30 seconds.

Holi Hai

Wishing everyone a Happy Holi. Too bad I missed it by a few days.


Music: Rang Barse from Silsila

March Monsoons

It rained. In Bombay. In March!!! Never happed before in my 21 years in this city. The intense aroma of raindrops hitting parched earth. The thunder. The clouds. The respite from the harsh sun. The chilled monsoon winds wafting in through the windows.

I haven't experienced a Mumbai Monsoon since 1997. This was a bonus!

Happy Women's Day

Today is International Women's Day. Here's a bow to all the fabulous women out there who make the world more bearable.

Bombay Rediscovered

Phew. I finally got a break from five, non-stop days of exploring this city from a whole new perspective, with a whole new set of people from all over the world. I haven't had this much fun in Bombay since 1996. Some cool new finds:

- Seijo: Fabulous lounge hidden away on the 3rd floor of an inconspicuous building on Waterfield Road. Equally yummy-looking resraurant next door, although I didn't get to eat there. Thanks Vik for dragging us out there!

- Salt Water Grill: So far, my favorite meal in town. Possibly THE best place in South Bombay for dinner and drinks on a good-weather day. Beach-chic ambience. We sat on the lovely couches in the bar area. The table was a rough-cut sheet of stained wood resting on coconut palm stumps. Great view of the Queen's Necklace. Soft sounds of surf crashing on sand. Eclectic lounge music. Tiki-torches and discreet mosquito coils keeping various flying objects at bay. Amazing Italian food. Great drinks menu. World-class service.

- Konkan Cafe (President Hotel): This is my comfort food. Fabulous fish delicacies. Equally fabulous vegetarian selections. Restaurant is decorated like a traditional konkani home - reminiscent of grandparent-era homes I had the fortune of visiting during my childhood. Memorable cocktails (thanks Alana and Andy):
- coconut water + Absolut Kurant
- fresh lime soda (sweet) + Bombay Sapphire

Memorable moments from the past five days:

- standing around in a huddle outside Elephanta caves, surrounded by an army of monkeys, and a few dogs, trying to eat a sandwich

- eating Black Forest cake at the Sea Lounge, as part of my early-birthday celebration. Thank you Manu, Andy, Mark, Alana and Ryan (not necessarily in that order). I couldn't have asked for a better way to turn 30! Well - almost 30. And did I mention they were playing elevator-ABBA in the background?


- the big-breasted woman at Swati Snacks with "Hooch" written on her shirt, which my dirty mind promptly mis-read and led to a Mexican wave of laughter around the table

A huge thank you to Andy for making that detour, to Manu for instigating this trip, to Mark for being my travel buddy through the first few days and putting up with that train-ride from hell, and to Alana and Ryan for taking the long train ride down from Kandivali almost every single day. Speaking of Alana and Ryan - you guys rock! This city is not for the faint of heart and I wish I was half as brave as you when I was your age. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.

Bombay Bound

Tumne bulaya aur hum chale aye

It's been 15 months since I got my last dose of the crazy megalopolis called Bombay (well - actually Mumbai - but we'll ignore that for now). Looking forward to an exciting week of friends, family, partying, shopping and culinary delights, not necessarily in that order.

Hope to see some of you in Bombay!

Double Standards

Help! The Arabs are taking over our ports!

We like globalization but only when we can explot cheap third-world labor, and sell the product back to them at an enormous profit. Such is the double standard being exhibited by the US of A right now. Even the worldly literati (like Maureen Dowd in today's Toronto Star) are crying foul. I can't characterize this reaction as anything but selfishness. I'm sorry America, but you can't expect the world to let you lead when you portray such blatant double standards.

On one hand the argument goes something like this. We're the world's most powerful nation. We don't like Arabs. We feel very scared right now. So we must have everything our way. Well - guess what America - you don't have everything your way. Here's what the politicians are not telling you. Your enormous national debt is being financed by Japan, China, Saudi Arabia and many emerging economies. A fraction of your oil dollars are ending up in the hands of terrorists. Your own domestic oil industry is heavily owned and controlled by Arab oil interests. One of your biggest banks - Citigroup - is controlled by Arab sheiks. All your consumer goods are made in China - a communist nation. Many of your well-respected corporations are incorporated offshore - outside the clutches of US law. Do you feel scared now?

On the other hand, does the world cry out when the US Navy controls all the major shipping channels in the world? No. Does the world complain when Microsoft collects $99 on (almost) every PC produced in the world? No. Do we flinch when yet another American CEO collects a $100 million bonus? No. Do we complain when Wal Mart wants to set up shop in our backyards? Maybe a little.

Now one might argue that American busiiness are held to higher standards and accountability as compared to a shady Arab outfit. Well, first of all not all Arab outfits are shady. Citigroup is one of the world's largest, well-respected banks - with the biggest shareholders being Dubai-based sheikhs. Secondly, two of the world's largest bankruptcies happened in America: Enron and Worldcom. As far as the security question goes - America still has the world's largest military. They created the TSA because private airlines couldn't be trusted with security. Why are ports any different? Besides, guarding the ports is a well-defined function of the US Coast Guard anyway. So there you go.

Dubai is one of the largest, most efficiently run ports in the world. One would think they qualify based on merit to operate a large volume of the world's shipping trade. The only argument that should be raised here is the issue of consolidation. It's never a good idea to concentrate too much in the hands of one power group.

Raat Baki

Raat baki, baat baki
Hona hai jo, ho jane do

Socho na, dekho to
Dekho haan, janeja
Mujhe pyaar se

Kashti jawaan dil ki toofan se takara gayi
Manzil muhabbata ki ab to kareeb aa gayi
Aaa dekhle, hai kya maza, dil haar ke

Awaz yeh hai to anjaam hoga haseen
Deewane parwane marne se darte nahin
Aa dilruba, khul ke zara, mil yaar se

Downloaded and heard this song after AGES. Pretty fucking cool. It's like one of the earliest songs I remember taking a fondness to :) Parveen Babi swooning over something ... can't remember. Gawd I was gay!

Friday evening

- Sleep all evening
- Wake up at 8:30pm after repeated wake-up calls from friends.
- Waste time till 9:15.
- Make 4-egg, 1-yolk omlette
- Enjoy with leftover wine
- Smoke a bud with a friend
- Head to Tangos at 10:30 - woo hoo ... no line
- Get insanely drunk
- Exchange sly glances with cute twinks on dance floor
- Let wisdom prevail and not pursue cute twinks
- Leave at the decent hour of 1am
- Stop by Pizza Pizza on the way back and load up on a cheese slice
- Write blog entry - anything to avoid sleeping :-)

Adsense II

This is getting interesting. I've made about a buck in one week. The ads have been interesting so far:

- plastinated human specimens
- Canadian cooking supply store
- weight loss
- Hong Kong relocation
- Canadian Fur

Let's see how this goes.

Associations

Notice how a particualr song, or piece music takes us back in time? Back to where we were when we heard it most? Your mind starts to feel the same way again. You can see flashes from your past. The sights, the smells, the tastes, the emotions start to come back.

Currently playing - "Let's Talk" by Coldplay. Takes me back to July 2005. This CD was in my car player on those long drives between Virginia, Pittsburgh and Toronto. Also in my car the day Siddharth was born - the long drive early on Tuesday from a sleepy overcast Toronto to a sunny, busy Pittsburgh, my only directions being to look for the Forbes/Oakland exit in downtown Pittsburgh. Later that week, trying to jump-start the car multiple-times with the dead battery and all. Huddled under the hood trying my hand at replacing a car battery (cause the Germans make their cars so complex, no one dares to touch them).

In a perfect world I would forget all this stressful stuff, but these memories are also mixed in with some very happy ones. Welcoming a new addition to the family. Watching in awe as this tiny precious life squirms, squints, takes one look at you and goes back to sleep, feeling safe in your arms.


So you don't know where you're going, and you wanna talk
And you feel like you're going where you've been before
You tell anyone who'll listen but you feel ignored
Nothing's really making any sense at all
Let's talk

So True

Movie Quotes

Some memorable movie quotes:


Auntie Mame: "Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death"


Mommie Dearest: "NO WIRE HANGERS - EVER"


The Opposite of Sex: "(I feel) like the Baroness in The Sound of Music. While everybody's just singing and climbing an Alp. And I just wanna STUFF THAT GUITAR UP THAT NUN'S ASS!"


As Good As It Gets:
Carol: Why can't I have a normal boyfriend? Just a regular boyfriend, one that doesn't go nuts on me!
Mom: Everybody wants that, dear. It doesn't exist.

Melvin: "People who talk in metaphors oughta shampoo my crotch."


Breakfast at Tiffany's: "Well, when I get (the mean reds) the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!"

AdSense

Yayy. My AdSense account is up and running. And guess what? My blog has been viewed 158 times in the last two days (and there aren't the same people reloading the page). Hmm ... who would've thought.

So far I have made 11 cents - based on one ad click - which was probably just me fooling around :)

Bhel

Just made some sweet-corn bhel. Except I have no bhel-mix - and too lazy to drive out to Gerrard St. Just realized what would've made this bhel complete. Chopped raw mangoes. I have to make do with amchur instead.

Body Worlds

My friends and I spent this afternoon at the Ontario Science Centre checking out the Body Worlds exhibition. It was a cross between an anatomy class and an art show. Carefully dissected and plasticized body parts in display cases. Entire bodies flayed out and arranged like art installations. Thinly sliced sections of body parts mounted on glass. Overheard comments like - "this is making me hungry". There was a section of a leg that looked like ham. Learnt something new about the male anatomy, and saw parts of the female anatomy for the first time.

Although I have a good stomach for this stuff, the only part that disturbed me was a 3 month old fetus inside a cut-open uterus. Got me thinking about abortions. Although I am a firm defender of choice in these matters, it will definitely make me think twice if I am faced with the situation.

Shopping Diary

Confessions of a brand whore.

H&M: Hasn't changed much. Found a fabulous floral-print fitted shirt. Checked if I could pull off a Small. Who am I kidding - swapped it for a Medium. A lovely shade of red catches my eye - full-sleeve shirt - more dressy than the other one but fits like a charm. Explore various varieties of dog tags. H&M is a great place for cheap accessories. Finally settle on a green-bead wrist thingy - and a cloth belt to match. Ran into Aman again - he probably thinks I'm stalking him.

Walk down two escalators to avoid the Sears labrynth. Blue Note tees looked too butch. Stiches had nothing for boyz. On I go. Now who the hell put up a tropical bar in the middle of Eaton Centre?

Hollister: If this is the future of shopping - I might as well take up 'sanyas' right now. Apparently Toronto winters aren't depressing enough so they build this dark, wood-paneled thing that looks like a tropical plantation home - at night. The only lighting in there is strategically placed spots on their wares. Walk in. Feel suicidal 30s later. Walk out. Stuff looks like A&F.

Club Monaco: Not much new since the holidays. Strut in. Check out the boyz. Try on jeans - wash looks interesting - fit is not. Strut out.

Browns Shoes: Interesting pair of Diesels. $180. Promptly return to shelf and strut out.

Mexx: Sad. No sale rack. Strut out.

Gap: Same old same old.

Le Chateau: Casual-wear is disappointing. Formal-wear is interesting. Shoes even more. Lone sales guy in mens' section too busy attending to Arab shopper. Strut out.

Banana Republic: The Canadian editions continue to disappoint. I won't return till I need more of their crew-neck colored tees. Those are the best. Awesome colors, snug fit and they keep their shape. Great for layering and color-coordinating.

Town Shoes: I see potential. Unfortunately my shoes situation is in a mess right now. Need to match up with some outfits.

Sephora: Nose overwhelmed the minute I walk in. They need better air-handling. Try about 30 different colognes. Nose numb. Settle for Hugo Boss - they've been good to me since the 80s. Mental note to look for Paco Rabanne Ultraviolet at Heathrow.

Closing time. Come home, make some cheese toast and enjoy with excellent Pinot Grigio to Salaam Namaste soundtrack.

Bluffmaster

Hats off to those guys for making Bombay look SO fabulous! Fun movie too.

Experiment - II

Ok. So there's more to this. After a sign-up process the Gods of Google have deemed that my account needs a 'review' before full activation. Until then, we will be goaded into helping hurricane victims untill one of us dies of shame, or OD's on crawfish and alcohol. Damn I should've attended Mardi Gras.

Experiment

Often, while browsing through the blogger dashboard, I've come across the little link called "AdSense". Today curiosity got the better of me and I enabled Google ads on my blog. Now before y'awll go all ghetto on my ass, I'm not doing this to make money - just attempting two answer two very important questions:

- what's makes Google ads so compelling?
- does anyone read my blog?

First up is a Public Service Announcement from Google goading us to help Katrina victims. Maybe Google hasn't finished digesting my blog yet? Or maybe my blog isn't worth anyone's advertising dollar?

I promise the ads will be gone soon. But meanwhile, don't hesitate to click if you see something you like ;)

Rose By Any Other Name

More in the tradition of political hypocrisy.

Iranians love Danish pastries, but now when they look for the flaky dessert at the bakery they have to ask for "Roses of the Prophet Muhammad."

Freedom Fries come to mind. Hate the creator. Not the creation. Cause giving up unhealthy indulgences did not poll well.

Hidden Gems

Lately I have been complaining about the lack of aesthetic sensibilities in Toronto. Perhaps those 8 years in the DC area have spoilt me. Washington, DC, as many of you know, is a culturally vibrant city, with an artistic surprise waiting for you at every corner. The urban fabric consists of ornate mansions, richly restored townhomes and elegant apartment blocks from the heydays of the 20s, mixed in with ultra-modern condo conversions. The business district has its share of 70s bare-concrete edifices, but thankfully they're keep well-hidden by the height restriction. Overlayed on all of this are some of the finest landscaped parks and public spaces in the world, connected by criss-crossing avenues and parkways that're designed more for aesthetics than driver convenience. Every out-of-town driver in DC has at least once been stuck in this 'chakravyuh', only to end up in the ghettos of South-East. Even the ghettos are garnished with once-pretty townhomes, reminiscent of the vibrant residential neighborhoods they once formed - and will soon again.

Cut to Toronto. Largely ignored until the 70s, when paranoid bankers, fearing a separate Quebec, abandoned Montreal and relocated to anglophone Toronto. The urban landscape is dominated by 70s-style bare-concrete office blocks. Towering over these is the CN Tower - apparently the world's tallest freestanding structure. We're Canadian. We're big. We have penis envy so we erected the world's biggest phallic symbol. Whatever.

Largely absent from this landscape is green space (I'm sorry but High Park and Trinity-Bellwoods are sorry excuses). This city needs a heavy infusion of landscape artists, gardeners and nitrogen fertilizer. Heck - even Ottawa has some green patches in the middle of winter! Also absent are the grand residential neighbourhoods that grace every major North American city.

Anyway, the reason for my post is that lately I have been noticing a lot of urban art scattered around the city. Foil-cut figurines of kids climbing a large concrete column. Giant concrete sculptures shaped like buds about to bloom. Abstract sculptures that I can't even begin to describe. It makes me appreciate this city a little more. Also, today's wintry weather has left a silvery lining of wet snow on the bare trees, giving them an element of charm. Sitting in the back of a cab, riding up University Avenue, I was able to appreciate the architectural detail of the (somewhat) historic buildings with elegantly landscaped grounds. I just realized that's one thing I've been missing - being driven around the city, eyes free to wander and admire the hidden gems.

FOBjection

Ennis at Sepia Mutiny decides to write this oh-so-enlightened piece about how FOBs hate ice in their drinks. Could it be because ice-cubes 'over there' are loaded with germs and god knows what else? Could it be because one can get sick 'over there' from drinking a frozen beverage when it's too hot?

Boo Sepia Mutiny - you're perpetuating the same sterotypes that you're trying to demystify through your blog. Here's my response to this piece:


Filling a glass up to the brim with ice, and then adding an itsy bit of liquid to fill up the crevases is an American thing. I dislike it for the following reasons:

- I want a drink. If I wanted to eat ice, I'd ask for it. I prefer my drink to last more than three gulps, without having to wait for all the ice to melt and turn the drink into a watery mess. The only time that is a good idea is while drinking scotch on the rocks - or sambuca.

- Parts of this continent are frickin cold! I've just walked into a bar when it's 15F outside. I order a vodka tonic. He hands me a mound of ice that I'm supposed to hold for the next 20 minutes while trying to look cool and scaning the room for potential dates while my hands are being cryogenically preserved. Not a pleasant experience.

- It only takes about 3 decent sized cubes of ice to keep a drink cool until you finish it, without turning it into a watery mess. Maybe 4 or 5 if it's summer in LA.

- Loading a glass with ice simply continues the American tradition of excess at the dinner table - in line with the 2000 calorie entrees. Ice doesn't just happen. It has to be produced and the process consumes a *lot* of energy. Tossing 20oz cups of soda half filled with ice is just as bad as tossing a half-eaten steak, or driving Hummers. Maybe a necessary evil during LA/FL summers, but an unnecessary excess in NYC in January.

That's all. It has nothing to do with ingrained notions of ice being dirty, or cold drinks giving you brain-freeze in a hot country. It's a cultural difference. Once you're hooked on a soda glass filled with (gasp) soda, it's hard to settle for the frozen stuff.

There's a time for slurpies, and there's a time for sodas!

FOB

Sunday Musings

1. It's winter here again. We had a respectable snowstorm this week and temperatures have dropped.

2. Margaret Cho is funny - no matter how many times you watch her. On a related note, Bjork is a very easy target.

3. I need a cleaning lady. I have no time for housekeeping anymore.

4. Desperate Housewives has gone downhill - but then you knew that.

5. Apparently lots of people have a morbid interest in dissected human bodies. The exhibition was sold out today. On an unrelated note, Casa Loma closes at 4pm.

6. Staying in on a Saturday night once in a while is good for you.

7. I think my car's suspension is giving away again. There goes my next paycheck. Damn city roads.

Comments?

Not sure how I feel about this. By the way, the prints on his shorts are old Bollywood movie posters

Song

Falling in love with a song from the Brokeback Mountain soundtrack - "A Love That Will Never Grow Old", sung by Emmylou Harris, and written by Bernie Taupin. Listen to it if you can.

Sunday Musings

1. Who knew bookstores could be fun? Normally, they're quiet hangouts where you can commune with your inner thoughts, load up on caffeine or impress a date with your literary knowledge. Today the Indigo Books at the Manulife Centre felt like a fiesta (minus the food of course). They had a live band playing fabulous salsa music. Feet were tapping, bonbons were shaking and the place was buzzing with life. I now have a newfound respect for salsa music :)

2. What is it with me and fried chicken? The southen-style, batter-fried boneless variety. It'll kill me someday but I can't stay away from it.

3. It would be nice if Toronto had at least one real snowstorm this winter. We've had piddly dustings so far. I want to see at least one nasty mofo of a winter storm - the kind where I can walk out onto the street behind and make a respectable snow angel. Of course, I wouldn't be saying this if I had to shovel any of it :)

4. Seinfeld is still funny.

On Turning 30

It just hit me. In another 7 weeks, I will have to say goodbye to my 20s :( It's that sick feeling in your guts. All along I've been consoling my friends by saying 30 is the new 20. Sounds cool - doesn't it? Yet - when its your own turn, that sick feeling takes over. If I had any food left in my stomach, it'd be out by now.

Guess Which One Am I?

Brokeback Mountain

Ok. Everybody is talking about it. You can't pick up a newspaper these days without finding some reference to it.

I don't like bragging but I was one of the few early birds to watch this movie at the Toronto Film Fest back in September. Ang Lee had just won the Venice award and skipped the Toronto premiere, but he was back in time to watch the screening I attended. It was the middle of the day. I skipped work, bought tix and went to Paramount Cinemas on Richmond/John. The huge line full of industry professionals, critics and press-types should have been a give-away. I sat next to this particularly chatty Jewish ex-New Yorker. She was interested in Bollywood and I gave her a list of must-see movies. The Chinese girl next to her only spoke sign language, and was glad to find someone to 'talk' to (not me, the ex-New Yorker).

And then the movie began. The starkness of the scenery had me mesmerised. The meadows brought back memories of 'Legends of the Fall'. Heath Ledger was entirely convincing as a cowboy. Jake Gyllenhaal less so. The storyline brought back a flood of emotions. Like one of the newspaper critics said, the movie felt like someone kicking you in the guts.

I usually don't cry during movies, and I'm not sure I did at this one. It feels like I did at some point - or was at least about to. The music was mesmerizing - specially this guitar piece called "The Wings". The movie ended. The credits rolled. Ang Lee appeared - back from Venice. He answered a few questions and then we all left - everyone visibly shaken in some way.

Brokeback Mountain is a good movie, that also happens to be a gay movie. I hope it teaches the world that being gay is a feeling in your heart, not a lifestyle.

Escape

Yayy! I'm going to Bombay - in less than a month! It's only for a week - but I'll have some of my friends there! I've always wanted to party in Bombay with my close friends and now I'll finally have that chance. Can't wait. So glad February is a short month.