Srs Bzns

It's been busy. Nay hectic. July is nearly over and I've only got a rather hazy recollection of wtf has actually happened. Between final exams, papers and the usual gamut of summer school bullshit, Alby left to Korea for two years, a dear friend was visiting Toronto on business for a month, I was coerced into helping coordinate a wedding and doing logistics for a church conference. Unsurprisingly I am totally spent and all I want to do is sleep. I decided to knock out for a quick half an hour nap today after lunch. Which turned out to be slightly problematic because I accidentally set my alarm for 3:15 AM instead of PM. Subsequently I did not wake up early enough to shake off that assy feeling that you get when you've hit a good deep sleep. Boo.

Instead of studying or working on a pending writing project (that has been languishing for a few months) I opted to clean up my living quarters on Saturday. My standard of living can be described as being squalid at best, but I have an excuse! Did you see that whole thing earlier about me being terribly busy for all of July?

Anyways, we know what happens when I purpose to clean. Not much. Behold the fruit of my labour below.

I had one of those make or break career moments last Wednesday. Problem is I won't know if my career has been made or broken as of yet and won't find out until after the Labour Day weekend. Yeah. That's right. Early September. I lack the patience to wait that long for anything and I'm totally stressing out. The only way I've found to cope with all of this is to plan. My one year life plan for my career now has three options and all of them hinge on the answer I get in September. Since it was a director that I was meeting at the company HQ, alby and I hit the mall the previous week and found the below gem. It came with a sash of its own, but I coupled it with my grandfather's cummerbund which I'm sure I've photographed before.



Moving along. When Labro got married in May I was tasked with getting a pair of 'metallic high heeled sandals.' I was wearing the shortest dress of all the bridesmaids and couldn't get away with flats. Four inch heels and one blue bridesmaid's dress later...



While shopping for the shoes I of course browsed around and found these. I have not spent so much on a pair of shoes in a really long time. Even though they're Aldo, hot dang I don't have another pair of shoes that's made out of Italian leather as soft. Plus I think mustard is overtaking torquoise as my couleur du jour. Funny story, the cuffed jeans that the shoes are on top of? 20 bucks at American Eagle. Only hitch? The length is meant for regularly sized people and are therefore close to four inches too long for me (and they look like ass with those gold sandals).



One of my many glamorous jobs at the wedding was to herd around 30+ people around a park. Wearing a sari was not an option. I can't even sit properly in one of those let alone traipse through a poorly maintained park. (Boo to you Mayor Miller! Resolve the civic workers' strike already!) I thought I'd stay true to the Tamil roots and opted to use some silk pavadai chattai material (that I picked up from Ram Brothers down Sea Sreet) as a skirt paired with a random ancient beaded cami from Odel. It worked well enough although some of the old aunties had a few things to say. But really, when do they not?



Alby and I hit up a Jays' game earlier on in July and both walked out desperately wanting either a Blue Jays hat or tshirt. Thanks to the wonderful folks at footlocker and their buy one get one half off sale I picked up one for myself and for her as a going away gift. That hat is now safely ensconced at her apartment in Seoul. I'm going to miss you so much alby :(



I haven't worn a dress since I was in grade eight. All of that changed this year when Labro forced me into one. Then alby and I found this one for 15 bucks at bluenotes. That's when the epidemic started.



I bought this one just before I saw Transformers 2. It was probably the only good thing about that day because dang. That movie was crappy. If I hadn't seen it at the IMAX I think I may have left the theatre.



Labro and I went up to Barrie after work on Tuesday to say bye to alby. Her flight was way too early in the day for us to go to the airport (which is a real bummer because I love going there). Her parents are moving later on this summer and there was a pile of shiz stacked up for Goodwill and look at who was right on top?! That bag apparently was originally her dad's from way back in the day. So not only do I have her kid sister's hand-me-down skates which belonged to Alby and a couple of cousins before her, but I've also got Ron's bag. Pretty sweet! Oh, the cardigan is from a hole in the wall in Wellawatte. Rs 300 bitchz!



I've got a thing for scarves. Aiya found this one at the dollar store of all places and it's pretty hype. It's got Madge circa 1988 on it, her image is black and on a backdrop of different coloured squares: pink, orange, green, purple, yellow and blue. The pink top-like-thing I picked up last week while looking for someone else's birthday present. I know. I've really got to curb the shopping. As my people would say, "What to do no?"



And then it rained.



So I fished out the best umbrella I've ever had, one that I got from Arpico of all places. I'm sort of convinced that you can't really compete with umbrellas that have been designed to withstand the monsoons yo. That shit is serious.



After I tucked the camera away for the day I sat in a ratan chair and watched the rain come down.



Here's hoping for a chillaxed August.

What's so Bad About Dying Anyways?

When you're a kid there will always be certain things which are the shit because you honestly don't know any better. Martin Streek definitely fell into that category.

Growing up Aiya and I depended on the radio for new music. If a new single came out we used to record it off of the radio. I feel like a dinosaur, but I still have cassette tapes, lovingly labeled with artist name, song, date and time. CFNY was my station. Even now when I see Allan Cross walking around downtown I become a total tool. I had a radio in my room that didn't have a recording device on it, just a straight up battery operated radio. When I was in elementary school Martin Streek was an integral part of my life. Thursday night he used to host a show called the Thursday Thirty which counted down the top 30 songs for the week and also introduced new artists. I'd usually fall asleep before the end of the show, but it was Martin who introduced me to Sloan and Radiohead. I'd head to school on Friday mornings feeling like such a badass. Michael and I used to talk music when we should've been doing math, but we used to compare notes and swap artist names. He was an avid Thursday Thirty listener too.

With the dawn of our dial-up internet connection my dependence on the radio slowly began to wane, but all of that changed when I started to work in Sri Lanka. Because of the time difference between Toronto and Colombo I used to catch the Thursday Thirty streamed live on Friday mornings at work. Between that and reading Torontoist and Now online, home didn't seem so far away. I've always said that I become much more patriotic when I'm away from home than when I'm actually here. For a couple of hours every Friday morning I used to feel like I was at home. Without the familiarity of Martin Streek's voice and on air style I doubt I would have felt the same way. That's when I started to understand why the migrant community in Toronto tried so, so hard to hold on to where they came from. Really I was no different, tuning into a Toronto radio station, reading Toronto street magazines. Obviously when I do it's way less fobby. But still.

I found out that Martin had committed suicide via Torontoist on Tuesday morning. When I was on my way home from work Josie Dye (who for the record I cannot EFFING STAND. She and the Dean Blundell Show epitomise everything that's awful with what CFNY now known as edge102 has become) was talking to David Bookman about what had happened. Bookie was just about to take over the afternoon drive shift and one of the first songs that he played in Martin's honour was actually The Lines you Amend by Sloan. It's actually one of my favourite Sloan songs of all time and oh so fitting.

Bye Martin. Toronto is not going to be the same without you. I will miss your voice.


photo from exclaim.ca