Sunday, December 10, 2006
The love of my life?
Okay, so we've been dancing around this for too long. It's time we admit to ourselves what we're doing. I've flirted with you for I don't even know how long. I think I've always been more fond of you than I was quite willing to admit. But it's time to lay it all out on the table...shout it from the rooftops. I am deeply in love with...sauce. It really doesn't matter the type: sweet or savory...Asian or French...sauces freaking rule. I am convinced I love French food, even though I haven't sampled much of it, because it almost always involves sauce. Usually a sauce that involves butter and/or cream, but milkfat is a love affair for another day. For a long time I just wrote sauce off as goo...something there solely to disguise badly made food. But I have come to the realization that I do so LOVE goo... red wine and herb, brandy peppercorn, soy...followed by caramel, chocolate, or fruit goo for dessert. One day I'm going to open a restaurant and just call it Sauce. Or maybe Goo. I need to think this over. But let it be known, Sauce (or Goo, as only your most intimate friends call you), from this day forward, that I love you. More even than Carbs. (But don't even get me started on the Carb/Sauce three-way....Poutine, I'm looking at you....)
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Surrealism Defined
Your devout Muslim labmate taking out his prayer rug and doing his daily prayers in the lab while Eminem sings "Lose Yourself" on the radio. Surreal... yet not entirely inappropriate...
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Chance Encounters
So, I'm riding the subway home tonight, coming up to my stop, and I glance down at the other end of the car, and there's a reasonably attractive man standing at the door, waiting for the same stop, who makes brief eye contact. I look away. I look back...he makes eye contact again. I look away again...look back to find him looking at me again. If this were a gum commercial, this is where I would frost up the window with my minty breath and write my number in it as the train pulled away from him at the station, (not to be confused with the similarly minty-fresh Mentos commercial, in which I would probably mysteriously lose my pants in a danish-related mishap and, in a minty candy-fueled moment of clarity, turn his coffee cup into a miniskirt in time to walk the fashion show that is about to begin on the platform) but that only works if only ONE of us is getting off at the next stop. If this were an episode of Sex and the City, this is where he would charmingly sidle up to me after getting off of the train and hit me with some cheesy pickup line, to which I would make a clever retort before he asks if he could take me to dinner sometime because he has a feeling he won't be able to stop thinking about me. But this is no gum commercial... no episode of It's not television, it's HBO... nope, this is Real Life. In Real Life, he takes one staircase, I take another, we go our separate ways, and I'm left wondering if he was looking at me because he thought I was cute, or I look like his Aunt Madge, or I still have wing sauce on my chin. Or maybe he was just thinking, "DUDE, why does that chick keep LOOKING at me???" Chance encounters, the stuff of Sandra Bullock movies and soft-core porn, just aren't all that exciting in the harsh glare of reality. But at least it makes the train ride a wee bit more interesting.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Things I Am Thankful For
Happy endings.
Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. I'm talking about happy endings to bad days. I started my day today feeling pretty damned good. I am officially back at the weight I thought had become a pipe dream...my Personal Best Since High School weight, which I haven't seen for about 2 years now. Which is quite fortuitous, as it's only a week until the wedding I was trying to look good for - YAY!! However, my day started to take a serious turn for the worse, as I took the bus out to FedEx to pick up the bridesmaid dress for said wedding and pay the import duties that FedEx was going to want from me before they would let me have said dress - BOO!! Then, back on the bus, with a stop at the mall on the way to work to have the dress altered because, contrary to what dress manufacturers seem to think, we ladies do not need a foot of extra fabric at the bottom of our skirts and THIS lady does not need the world to be checking out our lingerie above the neckline of our tasteful and appropriate bridesmaid dress. When this particular tailor shop was recommended to me, I was not aware that they were going to be sewing the hemline with THREAD MADE FROM THE FUR OF ENDANGERED MARMOTS, WHICH THEY MUST BE DOING FOR THE PRICE I PAID (are there any endangered marmots? There had better be...) All told, I dropped $100 before lunch on alterations and import duties - BOO!! Not fun. Now, I may have a better salary now than I had as a grad student, but I'm not making as much as a typical postdoc because my boss doesn't have a lot of grant money to cover me at the moment. It's enough to live on, but with my financial messiness back home in those expensive American dollars, I'm still living on a tight budget. Toronto is expensive. Even without marmot alterations. So the whole way to work, I'm thinking about what little treats I had my hopes up for this month (YAY!) that I'm now going to forgo (BOO!), and that's just freaking depressing as all get-out. So I finally get to work, at about 11:30 (because, of course, the mall doesn't open until 10 anyway), and the setup that I need to work on is occupied - BOO! When you're already in a foul-ass mood, little things like that just seriously tork you off even more. I go outside to fill up my water bottle, and run into the VGLM - YAY!! This is the first bright spot in my day since I got off of the scale - I vent my frustrations to the VGLM for a while, ask him to tell me something happy, only to find out that most of the things going on in his life aren't exactly going swimmingly, so at least we commisserate a bit. Hey, bonding is bonding, and I'll take bondage...er, bondING with the VGLM any way I can get it. Seriously, SO dreamy. And hey, at least I was looking relatively skinny and cute today - YAY!! And I come back into the lab, and the guy using the setup is finishing up, so I'll get to use it - YAY!! Except when I try to, one of the weak spots in the ground wire breaks entirely - BOO!! So now I'm trying to figure out what I can do with the rest of my completely ineffectual, unproductive day that might be somewhat effectual or productive, and a labmate (and my Male Canadian Alter Ego) calls from Chemistry. I happen to mention said wiring problem, and he offers to help - YAY!!! Except, being my MCAE, he insists on giving me a hard time the entire time - BOO!! - which normally I take pretty well but today am absolutely not in the mood for. So after he sauters my wire (which sounds dirty but I assure you is not), he makes me go back over to Chemistry with him for donuts (YAY) that I can't eat (BOO!!!) because of that whole trying-to-be-skinny thing. Finally, I come back over to my lab at about 5:30 and START working on my devices to see if they actually work the way they're supposed to, after spending a whole week trying to make them...
and...
THEY DO!!!! HELL TO THE YAY!!!
I feel the need to mention here that nothing... NOTHING ever wor k s for me the first time I try to do it. And this is a completely new field for me, and I really wasn't convinced I'd be able to do it. You spend seven years in grad school, and you start to think maybe you've chosen a career you're just not very good at. Now, I still have to figure out if the CHEMISTRY I want to do in them will actually work, but at least I've gotten through the engineering part of the project and go back to being a chemist for a while. It's a nice feeling. So this is my Happy Ending for the day. If something else shitty should happen to occur before I go to bed tonight, it's going to go in tomorrow's Shit File, because today ended well.
And with that, I shall end this rambling and not terribly interesting post. If you've made it this far, gentle reader, then you must really love me.
Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. I'm talking about happy endings to bad days. I started my day today feeling pretty damned good. I am officially back at the weight I thought had become a pipe dream...my Personal Best Since High School weight, which I haven't seen for about 2 years now. Which is quite fortuitous, as it's only a week until the wedding I was trying to look good for - YAY!! However, my day started to take a serious turn for the worse, as I took the bus out to FedEx to pick up the bridesmaid dress for said wedding and pay the import duties that FedEx was going to want from me before they would let me have said dress - BOO!! Then, back on the bus, with a stop at the mall on the way to work to have the dress altered because, contrary to what dress manufacturers seem to think, we ladies do not need a foot of extra fabric at the bottom of our skirts and THIS lady does not need the world to be checking out our lingerie above the neckline of our tasteful and appropriate bridesmaid dress. When this particular tailor shop was recommended to me, I was not aware that they were going to be sewing the hemline with THREAD MADE FROM THE FUR OF ENDANGERED MARMOTS, WHICH THEY MUST BE DOING FOR THE PRICE I PAID (are there any endangered marmots? There had better be...) All told, I dropped $100 before lunch on alterations and import duties - BOO!! Not fun. Now, I may have a better salary now than I had as a grad student, but I'm not making as much as a typical postdoc because my boss doesn't have a lot of grant money to cover me at the moment. It's enough to live on, but with my financial messiness back home in those expensive American dollars, I'm still living on a tight budget. Toronto is expensive. Even without marmot alterations. So the whole way to work, I'm thinking about what little treats I had my hopes up for this month (YAY!) that I'm now going to forgo (BOO!), and that's just freaking depressing as all get-out. So I finally get to work, at about 11:30 (because, of course, the mall doesn't open until 10 anyway), and the setup that I need to work on is occupied - BOO! When you're already in a foul-ass mood, little things like that just seriously tork you off even more. I go outside to fill up my water bottle, and run into the VGLM - YAY!! This is the first bright spot in my day since I got off of the scale - I vent my frustrations to the VGLM for a while, ask him to tell me something happy, only to find out that most of the things going on in his life aren't exactly going swimmingly, so at least we commisserate a bit. Hey, bonding is bonding, and I'll take bondage...er, bondING with the VGLM any way I can get it. Seriously, SO dreamy. And hey, at least I was looking relatively skinny and cute today - YAY!! And I come back into the lab, and the guy using the setup is finishing up, so I'll get to use it - YAY!! Except when I try to, one of the weak spots in the ground wire breaks entirely - BOO!! So now I'm trying to figure out what I can do with the rest of my completely ineffectual, unproductive day that might be somewhat effectual or productive, and a labmate (and my Male Canadian Alter Ego) calls from Chemistry. I happen to mention said wiring problem, and he offers to help - YAY!!! Except, being my MCAE, he insists on giving me a hard time the entire time - BOO!! - which normally I take pretty well but today am absolutely not in the mood for. So after he sauters my wire (which sounds dirty but I assure you is not), he makes me go back over to Chemistry with him for donuts (YAY) that I can't eat (BOO!!!) because of that whole trying-to-be-skinny thing. Finally, I come back over to my lab at about 5:30 and START working on my devices to see if they actually work the way they're supposed to, after spending a whole week trying to make them...
and...
And with that, I shall end this rambling and not terribly interesting post. If you've made it this far, gentle reader, then you must really love me.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Knock knock....
Who's there?
Ima.
Ima who?
Ima bout to smack some bitches up.
I don't actually work in the Chemistry building here at the U of T - I get to work in a much nicer, newer, shinier building a short walk away. Once or twice a week I walk over to Chemistry for one reason or another, but for all intents and purposes, I am not known in the department outside of my own group. So today, after group meeting, my labmate and I are leaving the building to come back over to our lab, and as we walk down the hall in which the first-year chemistry labs are taught, an old man in a lab coat asks us, "are you CHM 139 students?" To which we laugh and say no, in fact, we are not. Old Man's response is, "well, you look like it." He was all set to lecture us on being late to lab when he saw us coming toward him down the hall. Now, I am old enough that I am starting to appreciate that looking younger is a good thing, but young enough that someone assuming I'm A DECADE YOUNGER than I actually am feels more like insult than flattery. At least Labmate is a good 5 years younger than me and Chinese, so it's an easier mistake to make (no matter how long I live, there are two things I doubt I'll ever be able to do on the first try: understand an Indian accent or guess an Asian's age). And I don't care if I DID have my hair up and no makeup on (Looking Pretty is expressly forbidden while working in the cleanroom - nothing says SMOKIN' quite like booties and a hairnet...), I don't look 18. At least, not with my glasses on. Seriously, ever since I got them people tend to guess that I'm around 25 instead of 20, which is about how it should be, in my opinion. So I'm mildly torked off. Bring it on, Old Man, you're goin' DOWN - I may look young, but I can take you.
Oh, and did I mention that CHM 139 is the course I will be TEACHING next semester? Not TAing, LECTURING. Yeah. Good times.
Ima.
Ima who?
Ima bout to smack some bitches up.
I don't actually work in the Chemistry building here at the U of T - I get to work in a much nicer, newer, shinier building a short walk away. Once or twice a week I walk over to Chemistry for one reason or another, but for all intents and purposes, I am not known in the department outside of my own group. So today, after group meeting, my labmate and I are leaving the building to come back over to our lab, and as we walk down the hall in which the first-year chemistry labs are taught, an old man in a lab coat asks us, "are you CHM 139 students?" To which we laugh and say no, in fact, we are not. Old Man's response is, "well, you look like it." He was all set to lecture us on being late to lab when he saw us coming toward him down the hall. Now, I am old enough that I am starting to appreciate that looking younger is a good thing, but young enough that someone assuming I'm A DECADE YOUNGER than I actually am feels more like insult than flattery. At least Labmate is a good 5 years younger than me and Chinese, so it's an easier mistake to make (no matter how long I live, there are two things I doubt I'll ever be able to do on the first try: understand an Indian accent or guess an Asian's age). And I don't care if I DID have my hair up and no makeup on (Looking Pretty is expressly forbidden while working in the cleanroom - nothing says SMOKIN' quite like booties and a hairnet...), I don't look 18. At least, not with my glasses on. Seriously, ever since I got them people tend to guess that I'm around 25 instead of 20, which is about how it should be, in my opinion. So I'm mildly torked off. Bring it on, Old Man, you're goin' DOWN - I may look young, but I can take you.
Oh, and did I mention that CHM 139 is the course I will be TEACHING next semester? Not TAing, LECTURING. Yeah. Good times.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Things I Am Thankful For
Buskers. In particular, my favorite busker who, some mornings, plays the violin in the Queens Park TTC station. This morning, he was playing Csardas, with accordion accompaniment. That just starts my day off right.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Things I Am Thankful For
Kindred spirits. No matter where I go or what I'm doing, I always seem to find them somewhere.
And all I really want, is to meet a soulmate
Someone else to catch this drift
And what I wouldn't give...to meet a kindred...
-Alanis Morrisette
And all I really want, is to meet a soulmate
Someone else to catch this drift
And what I wouldn't give...to meet a kindred...
-Alanis Morrisette
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Independence Day
Tonight, November 2, my best friend is out celebrating her own personal Independence Day. A year ago today, she got out of a toxic relationship, began a new direction in her career, and set into motion a series of positive changes in her life. Congratulations, #1 - I love you dearly, and am so proud of you. It's been a big year for my loved ones - to all those who have made drastic and significant life changes, I salute you. Cheers.
Things I Am Thankful For
As a countdown to the real Thanksgiving (Canadians seem to think it happens in October - as IF), I humbly present the first installment of Things I Am Thankful For:
Men who know how to wear fitted clothing.
Men who know how to wear fitted clothing.
Friday, October 27, 2006
The VGLM
On a Monday morning, during my second week at work, a man walked past my desk. A Very Good-Looking Man. I noticed. It took a couple more passes throughout the day before it occurred to me that the Very Good-Looking Man smiled at me whenever we made eye contact. Now, I'm not the kind of girl that is used to this kind of behavior. I have to make a conscious effort to smile at a guy that I think is cute - I tend to assume that they look right through me. Because, to be honest, I find they usually do. Now, don't get me wrong - I know I'm fabulous, and my fabulosity is of a very great depth, but it takes time for people to see it. You definitely have to spend some time with me to love me, and I find that I become more attractive in direct proportion to the amount of time someone has spent getting to know me. So, while I do occasionally get looks from guys on the street, I'm not used to smiles from strangers. Smiles throw me a little off-kilter, especially when coming from what I consider to be a Very Good-Looking Man.
So I decided I'd like to find a way to meet this VGLM, to see if maybe there was a reason for the smile. But when you've just moved to a new city, and just started a new job, you're meeting people left and right and it's hard to find a way to meet someone in a way that's going to lead to real interaction, instead of rapid-fire introductions after which names are promptly forgotten. But lo and behold, it wasn't long before I found a way - it's amazing how many odd little social events crop up around here. (There's a LOT more to do at the U of T than there ever was at Purdue OR UVa for us socially-inept science geek types.) And in a lot of ways, there's nothing more heartbreaking than finding out that the person you've been admiring actually vastly exceeds your expectations. I'm not going to go into great detail about all of the things we have in common, all of the details about him that are truly remarkable, or the genuine knack he has for making you feel like you are the only person in the room. Just suffice it to say that he instantly became one of the biggest crushes I've ever had, and I actually thought I had become crush-proof at this point in my life.
But here's the problem: I have a pretty good guy-dar, and he's just not that into me. He is incredibly nice, and friendly, and DAMN he has a way of smiling at me that just melts me, but I'm hardly the first person to notice these traits in him and I'm sure I won't be the last. I can feel the energy shift that happens when there's another girl around who is younger, prettier, thinner, etc. than I am. I'm just not the sort of person he's drawn to. And I'm too old to try to force that shit. So he can go right on looking through me. And I'll go right on being a sucker for that smile. And that's fine.
But seriously...VGLM...call me.
So I decided I'd like to find a way to meet this VGLM, to see if maybe there was a reason for the smile. But when you've just moved to a new city, and just started a new job, you're meeting people left and right and it's hard to find a way to meet someone in a way that's going to lead to real interaction, instead of rapid-fire introductions after which names are promptly forgotten. But lo and behold, it wasn't long before I found a way - it's amazing how many odd little social events crop up around here. (There's a LOT more to do at the U of T than there ever was at Purdue OR UVa for us socially-inept science geek types.) And in a lot of ways, there's nothing more heartbreaking than finding out that the person you've been admiring actually vastly exceeds your expectations. I'm not going to go into great detail about all of the things we have in common, all of the details about him that are truly remarkable, or the genuine knack he has for making you feel like you are the only person in the room. Just suffice it to say that he instantly became one of the biggest crushes I've ever had, and I actually thought I had become crush-proof at this point in my life.
But here's the problem: I have a pretty good guy-dar, and he's just not that into me. He is incredibly nice, and friendly, and DAMN he has a way of smiling at me that just melts me, but I'm hardly the first person to notice these traits in him and I'm sure I won't be the last. I can feel the energy shift that happens when there's another girl around who is younger, prettier, thinner, etc. than I am. I'm just not the sort of person he's drawn to. And I'm too old to try to force that shit. So he can go right on looking through me. And I'll go right on being a sucker for that smile. And that's fine.
But seriously...VGLM...call me.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
5 o'clock pick-me-up
You know what's insane? How I can be completely tired, bored, literally falling asleep at my desk, ready to go home on a drizzly, cold, gloomy Tuesday evening. Until that one particular person walks past my desk. The sudden rush of happy reminds me that, at heart, I am still approximately twelve, and desperately hoping to be noticed. Yet somehow, it's enough for me to just notice him.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
La Vie Boheme
The need to express...to communicate...to going against the grain...going insane...going mad.
I've found I can be a lot to handle. This is probably why I don't have a boyfriend. Well, that and the fact that I just moved to Canada and still don't quite speak the language. Every once in a while, I find myself in one of these self-indulgent, nobody-gets-me kind of moods. These moods are what make me do stupid things. Like obsessing over that cute guy to an uncalled-for level, or becoming wildly jealous that someone I hardly know and have no vested interest in is dating someone else. These are stupid things to do. I know this.
But when it comes down to it, these thing happen merely because I'm a passionate person. When I love something, I do it passionately - whether that something is food, wine, or music... a hobby or a human being... friend, family, or significant other. The flipside of that is that when things are slow in life (which they often are), I have to vent the passion that would normally be directed towards a project or relationship. So it gets redirected. Take tonight - the redirection du jour meant channeling my creative energies into cooking a good dinner with good wine to match. Now, this would be fine - fabulous, in fact - were it enough. But for some reason I have to take it one step further so that I eventually find myself serenading my landlord's dogs. You may laugh, but they make for a very attentive audience. Or at least they do until they start humping each other. Apparently, in the canine world, I am Barry White... kind of like how Jerry Lewis is a comic genius in France, or how Kevin Federline is a worthwhile human being in the twisted mind of Britney Spears.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes - feeling a need to be expressive. Funny how that need always seems to make me incoherent as hell. This....this is how I know I'm ready to find Something to Do With Myself. Or at the very least, to put on some music to sing and dance along with while I fantasize about my Real Life. You know what I mean - most of us wander around aimlessly through life waiting for it to begin. Every time I make a big change in my life, I feel like it's imminent...but so far, it hasn't happened yet. Oh, well - I'm ready whenever you are.
Any minute now, my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
I'll stand on the bow, feel the waves come crashing
Come crashing down down down, on me
And you say, be still my love
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in
But don't you understand
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin
-Colin Hay
I've found I can be a lot to handle. This is probably why I don't have a boyfriend. Well, that and the fact that I just moved to Canada and still don't quite speak the language. Every once in a while, I find myself in one of these self-indulgent, nobody-gets-me kind of moods. These moods are what make me do stupid things. Like obsessing over that cute guy to an uncalled-for level, or becoming wildly jealous that someone I hardly know and have no vested interest in is dating someone else. These are stupid things to do. I know this.
But when it comes down to it, these thing happen merely because I'm a passionate person. When I love something, I do it passionately - whether that something is food, wine, or music... a hobby or a human being... friend, family, or significant other. The flipside of that is that when things are slow in life (which they often are), I have to vent the passion that would normally be directed towards a project or relationship. So it gets redirected. Take tonight - the redirection du jour meant channeling my creative energies into cooking a good dinner with good wine to match. Now, this would be fine - fabulous, in fact - were it enough. But for some reason I have to take it one step further so that I eventually find myself serenading my landlord's dogs. You may laugh, but they make for a very attentive audience. Or at least they do until they start humping each other. Apparently, in the canine world, I am Barry White... kind of like how Jerry Lewis is a comic genius in France, or how Kevin Federline is a worthwhile human being in the twisted mind of Britney Spears.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes - feeling a need to be expressive. Funny how that need always seems to make me incoherent as hell. This....this is how I know I'm ready to find Something to Do With Myself. Or at the very least, to put on some music to sing and dance along with while I fantasize about my Real Life. You know what I mean - most of us wander around aimlessly through life waiting for it to begin. Every time I make a big change in my life, I feel like it's imminent...but so far, it hasn't happened yet. Oh, well - I'm ready whenever you are.
Any minute now, my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
I'll stand on the bow, feel the waves come crashing
Come crashing down down down, on me
And you say, be still my love
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in
But don't you understand
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin
-Colin Hay
Friday, October 13, 2006
Paintball and Public Art
So there were a number of reasons that I was REALLY excited to move to Toronto...FINALLY finishing my Ph.D. and getting to leave Indiana behind was only part of it. Everyone I've ever mentioned coming here to has reacted with something along the lines of, "oh, I hear/know/may have read once in a bathroom stall that Toronto is WAY fun... you're going to love it there... you're not going to want to come back... wow, that's really far north and people talk funny - do they really say "eh?" a lot????" and so on. And I learned during my brief interview trip in July that yes, there really are many things to love about this city, an infinite number of possibilities to explore, and, perhaps most importantly, they really do say "eh" almost exactly as much as Americans do when they're making fun of them. But of course, when you move to a new city, and you really don't know anyone, that tends to limit the possibilities a wee bit. I mean, don't get me wrong - I am all about just packing a lunch in my backpack and wandering around a new city to explore...in fact, it's my idea of a perfect vacation. However, there are a number of things that you simply have to have friends to properly experience - a great meal or a glass of wine is ALWAYS better when you have someone to share it with, comedy is funnier when you're laughing with someone else, and table tennis is, well, damn near impossible. Which is why, when the French guy who works in one of the other research groups that shares the lab space I'm in (let's just call him Pepe Le Pew) came around one day a couple of weeks after I got here talking about organizing an outing to get people from the 4th floor together so we could get to know each other better, I immediately volunteered myself to represent my group. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I will admit that when he first started talking about it, I missed the beginning of the conversation, so I had no idea if I was volunteering for a picnic or the Israeli army, but whatever it was, I was going to meet people, dammit! And, well, I may have had an ulterior motive, but we'll talk more about that later. Maybe. Haven't decided if I'm going to discuss that on here yet - right now, since I only have one actual reader (HI, EM!!!), it seems pretty harmless to talk about people, but you never know who might be reading this someday...
Anyway, so it turned out I had volunteered for paintball. The original idea was for it to be a death match between teams from the four groups that share the 4th floor, but it basically turned out to be PLP's group vs. me and one guy from one other group. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't seem to remember ever hearing about a Great War between Germany... and Lichtenstein. So by the time the fateful day came, it had been decided that we'd just divide up into two teams when we got there. We had been hoping we'd have at least 15 people total, because they told us if we had that many, we could have a field to ourselves, but if not, we'd have to mingle with other groups. So Saturday rolls around, and we have about 12-13 people. Well, shit - of those dozen or so people, we have approximately two that have ever played before. We are about to get massacred by strangers - always a good time in my book. We get out to the paintball place and...double shit. EVERYONE is decked out in camouflage, toting their own equipment - guns, paint HANDGRENADES, night-vision goggles (okay, maybe not, but I wouldn't put it past some of these people) - and here we tumble out of our rented minivan, half of us girls, some of whom are wearing - and I am not making this up - MASCARA. These people think they're in an ACTUAL WAR and we are LICHTENSTEIN. But, plucky nerds that we are, we march into the Big Barn of Scary, where they provide us with handy waivers that basically say that, should we be maimed, disabled, blinded, killed, or pushed down the hill by a peri-menopausal Nazi, we're on our own. Great. But then, they start giving us equipment. Now WE are dressed in camouflage...WE have big guns full of deceptively harmless-looking balls of paint...WE have Darth Vader masks to perch menacingly atop our noggins too!!! Okay, so we're still scared pantsless, but at least now we look the part. Once we're properly attired, and the pre-mortem group picture is taken, Referee Guy comes out to explain the rules. Someone bravely asks who we'll be playing with, and RG says the most beautiful words I've ever heard, "Oh, you'll just be playing against each other." (Cue Hallelujah Chorus)
So, from this point on, there's not really a whole lot more to report about paintball. Basically, we spent the next few hours chasing each other around and having an awful lot of fun. We even had our very own UN Observer! And I learned that I would SUCK in an actual war, but come on, didn't we all pretty much know that already??? I think my primary problem is just that I get really bored with the "hiding behind things" and the "trying not to get shot" - after a couple of minutes of that I just want to storm the castle, ya know? So after three hours of light rain, several bags of ammunition, and about 4 significant bruises (not bad, eh?), we called it a day and drove back to town, muddy and tired, but our bloodlust temporarily sated. Now, on a normal day, in a normal place, one might think this is where the story ends. But one would be wrong...
See, I had heard about something called Nuit Blanche here and there, but I wasn't sure what it was. So when we got started in the morning, I asked some people exactly what the deal was, and they confirmed that it was pretty much what it sounded like: from 7pm to 7am, there would be performances, galleries, and public art installations all over downtown. Sounds like fun, eh? But this is exactly the sort of thing to which I alluded earlier: wandering around downtown all night by yourself is not fun. Wandering around WITH people, talking about what you're looking at, and stopping for the occasional drink is FUN. So when we got back from paintball, half of the minivan scattered to do God knows what. That left four of us - two of whom had tentative plans to go to Nuit Blanche with other friends, and two of whom were interested in tagging along. So we got dinner - because that's what people who enjoy culture do. We had an AMAZING dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant...I had never had Ethiopian food, but now I know that it's damn good stuff. Then we started wandering. And from here on, the evening sort of defies description. I can't possibly convey the sensory experience of it all, but it was just incredibly fun and stimulating. Now, part of that was the company - by the end, there were five of us, and among the group we had 3 violinists, one person who has sung opera, two who have danced ballet, and...one who is French - meh, it'll do. The streets were just swarming with people, pouring in and out of art galleries, rec centers, public baths - everything from live music to bizarre films to balloon penguins floating on frisbees in a swimming pool. The whole thing was so surreal, especially considering we had begun the day chasing each other around with guns, only to end it by listening to a jazz combo while we talked to an artist about his work. So eventually we headed back to PLP's house, ostensibly to have a couple of drinks and recharge, but the change of pace served to put the final nail in the sleepy coffin for half of our little group, so at about 4:30 I hopped on the night bus to slowly make my way home. At which time I met Zanta. Now, Zanta also sort of defies description. I'll let him speak for himself. Suffice it to say, it was a perfectly bizarre ending to a fairly random day. But considering the last all-nighter I pulled was spent doing labwork, I'll take this any day. :)
So that was my first big day/night out in Toronto. I think the bar's been set pretty high...I'm looking forward to seeing where the city takes me next.
Anyway, so it turned out I had volunteered for paintball. The original idea was for it to be a death match between teams from the four groups that share the 4th floor, but it basically turned out to be PLP's group vs. me and one guy from one other group. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't seem to remember ever hearing about a Great War between Germany... and Lichtenstein. So by the time the fateful day came, it had been decided that we'd just divide up into two teams when we got there. We had been hoping we'd have at least 15 people total, because they told us if we had that many, we could have a field to ourselves, but if not, we'd have to mingle with other groups. So Saturday rolls around, and we have about 12-13 people. Well, shit - of those dozen or so people, we have approximately two that have ever played before. We are about to get massacred by strangers - always a good time in my book. We get out to the paintball place and...double shit. EVERYONE is decked out in camouflage, toting their own equipment - guns, paint HANDGRENADES, night-vision goggles (okay, maybe not, but I wouldn't put it past some of these people) - and here we tumble out of our rented minivan, half of us girls, some of whom are wearing - and I am not making this up - MASCARA. These people think they're in an ACTUAL WAR and we are LICHTENSTEIN. But, plucky nerds that we are, we march into the Big Barn of Scary, where they provide us with handy waivers that basically say that, should we be maimed, disabled, blinded, killed, or pushed down the hill by a peri-menopausal Nazi, we're on our own. Great. But then, they start giving us equipment. Now WE are dressed in camouflage...WE have big guns full of deceptively harmless-looking balls of paint...WE have Darth Vader masks to perch menacingly atop our noggins too!!! Okay, so we're still scared pantsless, but at least now we look the part. Once we're properly attired, and the pre-mortem group picture is taken, Referee Guy comes out to explain the rules. Someone bravely asks who we'll be playing with, and RG says the most beautiful words I've ever heard, "Oh, you'll just be playing against each other." (Cue Hallelujah Chorus)
So, from this point on, there's not really a whole lot more to report about paintball. Basically, we spent the next few hours chasing each other around and having an awful lot of fun. We even had our very own UN Observer! And I learned that I would SUCK in an actual war, but come on, didn't we all pretty much know that already??? I think my primary problem is just that I get really bored with the "hiding behind things" and the "trying not to get shot" - after a couple of minutes of that I just want to storm the castle, ya know? So after three hours of light rain, several bags of ammunition, and about 4 significant bruises (not bad, eh?), we called it a day and drove back to town, muddy and tired, but our bloodlust temporarily sated. Now, on a normal day, in a normal place, one might think this is where the story ends. But one would be wrong...
See, I had heard about something called Nuit Blanche here and there, but I wasn't sure what it was. So when we got started in the morning, I asked some people exactly what the deal was, and they confirmed that it was pretty much what it sounded like: from 7pm to 7am, there would be performances, galleries, and public art installations all over downtown. Sounds like fun, eh? But this is exactly the sort of thing to which I alluded earlier: wandering around downtown all night by yourself is not fun. Wandering around WITH people, talking about what you're looking at, and stopping for the occasional drink is FUN. So when we got back from paintball, half of the minivan scattered to do God knows what. That left four of us - two of whom had tentative plans to go to Nuit Blanche with other friends, and two of whom were interested in tagging along. So we got dinner - because that's what people who enjoy culture do. We had an AMAZING dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant...I had never had Ethiopian food, but now I know that it's damn good stuff. Then we started wandering. And from here on, the evening sort of defies description. I can't possibly convey the sensory experience of it all, but it was just incredibly fun and stimulating. Now, part of that was the company - by the end, there were five of us, and among the group we had 3 violinists, one person who has sung opera, two who have danced ballet, and...one who is French - meh, it'll do. The streets were just swarming with people, pouring in and out of art galleries, rec centers, public baths - everything from live music to bizarre films to balloon penguins floating on frisbees in a swimming pool. The whole thing was so surreal, especially considering we had begun the day chasing each other around with guns, only to end it by listening to a jazz combo while we talked to an artist about his work. So eventually we headed back to PLP's house, ostensibly to have a couple of drinks and recharge, but the change of pace served to put the final nail in the sleepy coffin for half of our little group, so at about 4:30 I hopped on the night bus to slowly make my way home. At which time I met Zanta. Now, Zanta also sort of defies description. I'll let him speak for himself. Suffice it to say, it was a perfectly bizarre ending to a fairly random day. But considering the last all-nighter I pulled was spent doing labwork, I'll take this any day. :)
So that was my first big day/night out in Toronto. I think the bar's been set pretty high...I'm looking forward to seeing where the city takes me next.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
My bed is a fortress....
A fortress of SEXY, that is.
Okay, so I'm new to the blogging game, but frankly, typing is a heckuva lot faster than writing longhand, and sometimes I think faster than I can write, so here I am, writing the newer, sleeker, more modern equivalent of the lame-ass website I had in college. I just moved to Toronto from the States, so I will be taking many cheap shots at Canadians, Americans, and, well, anyone that should happen to piss me off. There will be smartass comments of the sort that can only be crafted by those who have spent WAY too long in grad school, yet finally, somehow, broken free. There will be poorly-veiled attempts to discuss my failed relationships, and even more poorly-veiled attempts at discussing my future ones. But most of all, there will be the Sexy. Okay, who am I kidding... there will be the Cute. It's the best that I can do, but should I ever fail, feel free to call me Sexy...
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