When I get stressed out I tend to have really insane dreams. Well, I shouldn't say really insane, but you know. Which I guess goes without saying because most dreams always do have a strong element of wtf. It is however that time of year in the summer semester where there are assignments galore and midterms. That means catching up on a condensed half a year worth of reading I haven't done. To make matters slightly more harrowing I need to point out that I'm a proud student at two different universities. So on Mondays and Wednesdays I'm at U of T and Tuesdays and Thursdays at Ryerson. Oh, did I mention that in the sea of books, papers and shoe receipts that is my room I have misplaced my faithful mouthguard. That ingenious creation that stops me from grinding my teeth and saves me from insomnia. My grinding increases with stress and the insomnia from the teeth grinding brings on the effed up dreams.

Last night I wanted to go to bed early, the weekend was hectic. I've been immersed in Victorian lit (and maybe this is the reason for the dreams? All the repression?!) and wanted to take a minute to send Alby a goodbye note before she headed to Memphis. With all this swirling around in my head I went to bed at an indecent hour and had this dream.

We were headed to London, but as usual running late, got separated and boarded the plane individually. When we were in highschool and went on trips, we were Those Kids. You know, the ones that unspoken-ly got the back of the bus even if they're the very last ones to get on? This plane was no exception. Lo and behold Alby, Labro, Copto, Whoren and even Hoolia were all at the back of the plane. Apparently Labro and I were headed to South Africa after London. (Which seriously, wtf. She's the least likely out of everyone to want to do that. Also, no husband either.)

As we buckled ourselves in for take-off, a flight attendant came by, confiscated my iphone, passport and copy of George Eliot's Middlemarch. (I'm actually frantically trying to finish reading that for my mid-term on Wednesday.) This starts a series of scandalised whispers between the girls because as in real life, I look like ass in my passport picture and the flight attendant was all kinds of good looking.

We make it to London and go our separate ways. Emily leaves me for South Africa and I'm left stranded at the Heathrow (an airport I HATE) because the aforementioned confiscated documents. I head over to a kiosk and try to passively aggresively throw a civilised shit fit. Finally the same flight attendant comes by, gives my shiz back and I get upgraded to business class. (You'd think I'd have fought for 1st class eh? Even in dreams I aim low.) In a Bollywood twist of fate he turns out to be my seat neighbour and he's reading Bleak House. He turns to me and asks if I understand anything about the intricacies of the Victorian-era British legal system. I attempt to explain (sadly it is almost a word-for-word repetition on some short hand notes I made on the topic for my mid-term. I had been going over them earlier on in the evening). We then turn our attention over to George Eliot, banter on about Daniel Deronda, Eliot's supposed Christian fundie phase and her general scandalousness.

Natch at this point, I'm all "OMG. THIS FLIGHT ATTENDANT IS LYK TEH BEST EVAH!!1!one1" Then it happens. He transforms into Optimus Prime and ruins everything.

So what did we learn from all of this?
1. I am a giant nerd even in my dreams and Victorian lit is still totally hot.
2. My subconscious is telling me that I should re-look at going to South Africa.
3. Seeing the new Transformers movie really is a must.
4. I'm sort of effed for my mid-term on Wednesday.

Salaam Alaikum.

Coming to a jihad near you

Next month is Black History Month, which means the charming, well dressed African American men with educational pamphlets will soon be outside of St. George Station generally getting in the way and causing people to be late for class. About four years back I was rushing to a politics class at Sid Smith, rocking the same keffiyeh that Ollie's got on when one of the African American scholars turned to me and shouted "Salaam Alaikum, sister!" Under normal circumstances I would've lost my shit at him for condescending to call me "sister," but surprisingly in this instance I returned the greeting "Alaikum Salaam" and got a bit adventurous.

Yes.

I busted out my poor excuse for Wolof as I had a sneaking suspicion that this fellow just may be Sénégalaise, and it turned out he was. What followed was the rapid fire traditional "greeting" which is just one person interogating the other on a myriad of different topics ranging from family, health to business. He was surprised to say the least, when I brought up Daara J.

And that is why I love Toronto. I can get away with wearing a keffiyeh, prattling away in piss poor Wolof and relate this story to any one of you, and in turn none of you would even bat an eyelid. (Although Thorn's very verbose friend would counter that a keffiyeh is one of "the most offensive items of clothing that one could possibly wear. As this clearly and blatantly show support for the PLO and other such terrorist organisations." In all my many years of wearing one, I must say that was the first time anyone has pulled that out of their ass!)

Well, this is life in a robust multicultural city (and yes, my cheque from Ontario Tourism is in the mail, thank you for inquiring). The thing is, I think we Torontonians unlike most other cosmopolitan city dwellers have come to the understanding that, yeah, no shit Sherlock, culture is fluid, and as much as you'd like to box it in, you can't. I also think that I've read too many pages of The Ground Beneath Her Feet in a concentrated period of time, and may very well be spouting off too much Rushdie. (Great book by the way.)

Quebec? Yes, we get it, you speak French, you're a "distinct" society within a "unified Canada." But why harp on that? The polarising nature of the whole separatist debate stagnates Canadian politics to a certain degree. This debate, and "controversy" has been around since the Natives were given the boot. What about cultural inclusion? I'm not talking about coming to Canada and living in your own little enclaves trying to emulate life in the mother land to a T. But look at someone like Deepa Mehta.

Born in India, a naturalised Canadian citizen based in Toronto, makes a Hindi movie set in Varanasi. Which is actually shot in Sri Lanka with a lead actress who is Polish/Indian and was born and brought up in Missisauga. Water, which I've forced most of you to watch at least a part of is incredible, so it should come as no surprise that yesterday it was announced as being on the shortlist for best foreign language film at the Oscars. Canada's contribution I may add. Mehta's film follows in the footsteps of French-Canadian films like the Oscar winning Barbarian Invasions and nominated C.R.A.Z.Y.

I personally don't think there's anything more Canadian than that.

Which is why shows like Little Mosque on the Prairie, can air in Canada and not even raise an eyebrow of controversy in its home country. But have the US media up in arms. Our inbred cousins to the South have got their eye on us! I checked it out last Tuesday night after the Mercer Report like the good CBC supporter that I am.

I was pleasantly surprised but thought I'd wait until the second episode aired before I weighed in with an opinion. I like it. It's smart, funny and it doesn't just focus in on the Muslims in the small town cliche. It also examines the whole idea of Toronto being the centre of Canada, and well, other Canadians being more than a little irked by that. Although one quibble that I do have, I wish they had a "progressive" practising Muslim woman on the show who didn't wear a burqa.

OoOoOo.

That's right, it looks like the diatribe is back!

Tagged by a sloth.

God bless the genius that put this up on youtube. Anarkali's Veet advert has unfortunately provided me with more amusement than I am willing to admit. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of witnessing her onscreen skills, trust me, if this Veet thing is anything to go by, she is a veritable Meryl Streep.

Seriously, who knew that a slow moving fellow like slothykins would not only complete a meme but also tag two whole other people? I was wondering how long it would take, thanks slothy, *squee* does this make me one of the cool kids?

1. Popcorn or Candy
- Um, can I say both? Because I need something sweet to counteract the salty and vice versa. Also, a bottle of water please.

2. Name a movie you've been meaning to see forever
- Umm. There are loads. But right off the top of my head? Raise the Red Lantern.

3. You are given the power to recall one Oscar: who loses theirs and to whom
- This is hard. I hate the Oscars, I never feel like the movies/actors/people who deserve to win them ever do. So shall we just go back to last year? Let the homos thief the Oscar from the racists please.

4. Steal one costume from a movie for your wardrobe. Which will it be?
- Diane Keaton's wardrobe from Annie Hall.
(Aside: Diane? Isn't it time YOU stopped dressing like Annie? I mean, that was 1977, and you're no spring chicken.)

5. Invite 5 movie people over for dinner, who are they? What would you feed them?
I'm going to do two lists, one living and one dead.
Living:
- George Clooney (this will be the night when i make him fall in love with me)
- Nandita Das
- Alan Alda
- Katie Holmes (to save her from Tom Cruise, it's an act of humanitarianism)
- Ken Watanabe (incase things don't work out with George)
Dinner: Given the myriad of dietary restrictions that'd probably be present in such mixed company. I'd go vegan, with aiya doing the honours.

Dead:
- Audrey Hepburn
- Cary Grant
- River Phoenix
- Errol Flynn
- Orson Welles
Dinner: Really? But they're dead.

6. Your favourite film franchise is?
- At the moment it's Deepa Mehta's elements trilogy. Although i want to say Ocean's 11 and 12, because everyone in that was so yummy.

7. What is the appropriate punishment for people who answer cell phones in the movie theatre?
- Theatre? What's that?

8. Choose a female bodyguard
- Ziyi Zhang's Mei in House of Flying Daggers. Anyone who can do that kind of shit with beans is okay in my books.

9. What's the scariest thing you've ever seen in a movie?
- A 55+ mother with her teenage daughter seated and waiting for Wedding Crashers to start.

10. Your favourite genre (excluding comedy and drama)
- Thrillers, although I must add, I'm one of those people who MUST know how a movie ends before I watch it, so sometimes, there's not a whole lot of thrill going on.

11. You are given the power to greenlight movies at a major studio for one year. How do you wield this power?
- I'd make sure that any actor/actress who tries to cross over into music never makes a film ever again, and any musicians who think they can act, well. They just won't get a chance to try.

12. Bonnie or Clyde
- Umm, that's a toughie, I've already tried to pick.

And I'm not going to tag anyone...However, if I do perchance tag Venus, does that mean she'll start blogging again? If that's the case, then consider yourself tagged. (Thanks for the tactic N, and err, consider yourself tagged too?)

Happy Birthday Babies!!

(image shamelessly stolen from Alby's facebook)

First off, a belated birthday shout out to Copto, and a Fresh one for Labro. Just because I didn't see either of you in the flesh does not mean your birthday beats are not forthcoming. Because they are. And I've been working out, so watch yourselves.

Secondly. I don't really know exactly what I've been doing since my last blog post, but evidently a lot because uh, I haven't found time to sight ye olde blogger-o.

Hmm...well, I survived the puppy and have come to the conclusion that if i can't afford a nanny there's no way in hell I'm having more than one child, two hyper active terriers for one week just about killed me.

I have been watching copious amounts of movies as of late. Some good some bad. Most are better left unnamed because, well, I'm a bit embarassed by my viewing selections.

A few things that I'm looking forward to in this glorious month of September.

Am counting down the 17 days and 40 minutes until I will be smooshed inside of the Horeshoe, standing stiff as a board (can't dance, and head bopping is forbidden because I look like I'm seizing) being mesmerised by the goodness that is controller.controller, because you know that Nirmala is my Sri Lankan idol, suck it M.I.A.

The Film Fest is starting! And you better believe I will be trying to score same day rush tickets for Borat Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, but let's see if my endeavour is indeed a great success. There are a bunch of other flicks I want to catch, but I won't bother mentioning all of them, because that's tedious, and as it is no one reads half of what I write. I know you skim. Don't lie. I'd do it too if I were you.

I have a kick ass schedule, Mondays and Fridays I am free from the shackles of higher education. Which for my slower readers means a four day weekend. Every week. Until April. w00t.

The days are getting cooler which means I can start wearing layers again. And sweaters...mmm...sweaters.

After 9 long and painful years, Abs is back in Ontario! Yay for Waterloo being the only university in Canada to offer optometry or some craziness like that. Looking forward to being able to pick up the phone and call without having to calculate a three hour time difference between Toronto and Vancouver. It will be down right pleasant.

And now? I'm too lazy to continue on with this half assed list.

*ouch*

I'm starting my Oscar Party a bit early this year.

*groan* I got my wisdom teeth taken out yesterday. It wasn't as nightmarish as I thought it would be. Since I had already braced myself for the worst before getting to the dentist's office I was in a significant state of neurosis by the time they were prepping me for surgery. The most paramount fear that was dancing through my head was the thought of loosing my sense of taste. For. Ever. You don't joke around about that stuff with a glut. It's just not cool.

It's a shame that I don't drink. My super cool oral surgeon (hi Dr. Baron!) told me that for a person of my size I'd have a really high tolerance level. They were unable to sedate me! The laughing gas didn't work so I got IV-ed instead. It wore off before the surgery was over, I remember waking up and demanding for a blanket because I was cold. I'm always cold.

A few other random things. The heart monitor freaked me out, and the blood pressure machine squeezed the shit out of my arm. Who knew that my veins were so small AND traveled? Apparently they too have no sense of direction, it took so long to get the needle in my arm. Ranjan Bappa's leaving to Sri Lanka this afternoon, so we went over to punchy's place last night, I was still all frozen so I was okay to go. What I was not okay to do was sit there and watch while everyone was eating punchy's cooking. I was stuck drinking some bland ass Campbell's Gardenay.

So. What are in the cards for me today? Other than stuffing my face with Jello cherry cheesecake (thathi picked some up for me, they're awesome) and letting out the odd groan, I'm going have an Oscar party for two and try to watch as many Oscar nominated movies as I can. Ollie gets the George Clooney mask, and I'm going to wear the Keira Knightley one, my jaw is so swollen and mannish that I can totally play the part.

On the list for today, Capote, Tsotsi, and Walk the Line. Throw in a few episodes of My Name is Earl, The Office and of course Project Runway and you've got yourself a really happy, sedated and swollen camper.

Hmm, now the only thing I need to do is find some J-list Hollywood star to sell my oxycoden to so that I can call it a day well spent.

A Realisation

Ralph Fiennes wearing a sarong in The Constant Gardener

The politics department was having a 'finding your career' thing which I popped into the other day. Most of it was useless, but I found out that yours truly is a prime candidate to become a spy! Although that doesn't say a lot, because this is Canada. As you can see from the above poorly taken photo, reconnaissance would obviously not be my area of expertise. Come to think of it, I don't know what my area of expertise would be. My French is mediocre at best and insulting at worst. I think I'd be a liability more than anything else.

Anywho, by this point my loyal reader, you're probably wondering what Ralph Fiennes has to do with any of this. Well. Simple. He's won me over, and just by wearing a sarong. Ralph is an amazing actor, and we've been best friends since I had to watch Schindler's List a million times in order to 'prepare' for a role in grade 10 drama. (I use the term 'prepare' and 'role' really loosely in this context.) His portrayal of Amon Goeth was so spot on, he's creepED me out ever since, until he went native and wore a sarong.

Although I wasn't really feeling the whole shpiel on the big pharmaceuticals the 'Constant Gardener' was an excellent movie and waaay better than Beyond Borders. My BFF was understated and brilliant as usual. Rachel Weisz's character Tessa? To say she irritated me would be an understatement. She totally got under my skin for a myriad of different reasons.

You know how they say that the things that bug you about other people, are the same things you hate about yourself? Well. 'They' are pretty right. Tessa bugged me a lot because I saw flashes of myself in her. I am the idiot who goes and makes impassioned (read: psycho) speeches regardless of if my audience cares or not. It isn't unusual for me to adopt a patronising tone of voice and demeanor when it becomes obvious that you don't know jack about politics, yet still want to talk shop. The list is endless. She and I most importantly, share the same kind of selfishness that is always mistaken for 'goodness.'

People automatically assume that just because someone wants to dedicate their life to eradicating poverty in the third world, it makes them 'good' and 'kind.' God forbid that I'd want to go somewhere that's politically unstable because that would cause me to become 'noble' or 'selfless' which is just laughable. I don't by any means speak for the majority of people in my field of study, but I'd hazard to guess that a lot of people are in it for the same reason I am. Unending guilt.

I have a guilt complex that's so big, I might as well be Jewish. Remember, I'm the eternal pessimist, you come to me for your daily dose of cynicism and bitterness, thus far I've delivered. I know I'm not making any sort of difference in the world through my actions. In order for me to think like that I'd have to be an idealist. In actuality I'm just a person driven by guilt. You see I feel guilty that I have a life in the 'first world' when I could've easily been born into poverty. Life is funny like that, I know I don't deserve my silverspoon. As a result I can't live with the guilt of knowing that human suffering is going on while I stuff my face with cake. To alleviate that feeling, I've got to do something about it. I don't do this because I want to, it's because I have to. The feeling of being less guilty is great, almost like a natural high. We 'do gooders' are no better than junkies, we're just chasing the good feeling.

Kids, I'm shallow. My passion doesn't lay in helping other people, I'm about good music and clothes, but I hope that I'd be able to recognise genuine passion when I see it. Today I saw a particularly candid and brutal documentary on the genocide in Rwanda. As is often her wont, Professor Handley, who happens to be a white South African, stood up to wrap the class up after the video. While she was talking about the utter failure of humanity in Rwanda (which we all are well aware of,) she began to choke up and fight back her tears. Of course she tried to play it off by rustling some papers. The injustice was so palpable to her.

That's passion. It's passion like that which I wish I had. I guess I'll have to make do with alleviating my Jewish guilt instead.

And this post doesn't really make a lot of sense. Thank you if you've stuck this far ;)

A Round-up

This has nothing to do with my post. I just thought it was pretty cool. Read about it this morning, here's the article on the Beeb.

Umm. So my life generally is wholly uninteresting. I'm painfully aware of this fact already. The only thing that I really can do is bemoan this fact to everyone and anyone. It truly is cathartic. Sometimes even my life spirals into even more uninterestingness than it normally is prone to.

Case in point. The last two weeks the film festival was going on. Aside from the obligatory celebrity sightings I had to deal with the pointless entourages. I find that the bigger the star, the smaller the entourage. At least in Toronto. The most random people have entourages. And more power to you if you want a bunch of freeloaders strapped to your backside. To each one his own. I go to U of T, and even the most suburbian amongst us know that this campus is smack dab in the middle of the film festival, and all the swanky hotels/restaurants to boot. Which means I had to fight my way through entourages to get to my classes on time. Dude? So. Not. Cool.

My beloved Mac has packed up. I'm just praying that it's not the cursed ibook lcd screen malfunction. Because if it is, I think I'll cry. Fortunately I just lost my first week of notes for class. I would've committed suicide by now if it was December and right before mid-terms. Unfortunately I've lost a lot of other more important things. Such as reports for work. Which now need to be redone. Yay for punitive justice. Because I believe that's what's being waged against me.

Oliver tried to eat a wasp. In the process he got severely stung. I never said he was smart. After a trip to the vet we have discovered that someone is having a 'type 2' reaction and therefore has to take prednisone. A tablet which we need to creatively hid in foodstuffs, otherwise it runs the risk of being spat up on the kitchen floor. I never said he was smart.

While being recruited for the Tamil Student's Association, I wasn't hit on this year. Thank the Lord. Perhaps it's too early to celebrate, because I'm yet to be approached by the South Asian Student's Association. You know I think I wouldn't mind the unwarranted attention as much if it wasn't for the fact that I am a fob magnet. Children? Speaking fluent English is always a prerequisite.

I'm still in my PJs and have bed head. Time to go and administer a prednisone laced carrot.

So, you're insane?

Claire: What's wrong with the belt?
Jerry: I went to the movies last night, I went to the bathroom and I unbuckled a little wobbly and the buckle kind of banged against the side of the urinal. So…(throws away belt) that’s it!
Claire: So, you're insane?*

Okay. So maybe it wasn't a belt buckle. But it was still disgusting, I had to rip the dangly hem off the bottom of my jeans (left leg) because it dragged on a WET bathroom floor. It was as disgusting as it sounds. Trust me on this one.

Deep Thoughts. More along the lines of Jack Handey

I miss Thorn. If she was here and not in Paris I would have dragged her to see Daara J with me. They were in Toronto a few days back. When I was in Senegal they were really popular, I thought I'd meet some Wolof speakers at the show. How fun would that have been? Granted I'm a bit rusty, but the looks on peoples faces would have been priceless. (As they have been in the past).

Why does The Edge play such crappy music sometimes? I'm listening to a remixed version of Metric's Dead Disco. Why ruin something that's good?

I read this on a fellow Sri Lankan's blog and thought it was funny. Especially the dialogue that ensues in the comments section. It's all so sadly funny.

I need a new pair of sneakers. Well, when do I actually need a new pair of shoes? I got some back GST/HST cheques in the mail. Which means I have cash to blow on sneakers. But I need your help. Should I go with this, this or this?

(Un)fortunately I completely missed the whole Live 8 dealeo. I was stuck in three different airports in the course of the day, on my way home. I happened to catch the tiniest bit of it on one of the many screens in Heathrow, it was altogether uninteresting to me. However, I love the Kaiser Chiefs and unbeknownst to me they played Live 8 Philly. AOL has so kindly put up clips of all the performances. Bless them. But what's with the randomness that played in Rome?

Why is it so hot outside? Someone throw an ice cream cone at my head and call me a unicorn. Please.

Our new deck is almost finished. 3 months later.

I find this whole thing deplorable. That man's life has essentially been ruined and for no good cause. And let's not even get started on this.

I want to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I don't mind going solo, but feel weird going alone to a kids movie. Seems a bit pedophile Pete-ish doesn't it? Thus Alby has been enlisted to go and watch it on Simcoe Day.

Oliver smells like popcorn today, and he ate a rubberband this morning.

And this was the most random post. Ever.

*Seinfeld Episode 158: The Voice

Claustrophobia strikes once again.

Last week I had the strangest dream
Where everything was exactly how it seemed*

Hmm. Four weeks of classes left, the less thought about that the better methinks. So how do I cope during a period which should be highly stressful? I hallucinate of course! Let's see, for the past I don't know, 2-3 weeks I've been having recurring nightmares where I get stuck in an elevator either by myself, or horror of all horrors with a crowd. Most of you enjoy exploiting my severe claustrophobia by squishing me into small spaces, purposely keeping elevator doors closed, swarming me etc and all you sadists get some sort of thrill in eliciting a panicked reaction from me. You'll all be happy to know, these stupid elevator dreams are incredibly realistic and just thinking about them is freaking me out.

Last week I saw Labro at the library, so I decided I'd go and scare her, because after Copto, she's the best to get reactions out of. She was sitting at a computer engrossed in what she was doing, so I went and shook her swivel chair really violently. When she turned around and looked at me horrified I realized it wasn't Labro. These cases of mistaken identity are occuring too rapidly for my liking! I swear I see someone I 'know' at least once a day. But after last week's episode, I restrain myself. Nevertheless they still leave me confused and disoriented. Oh wait. I'm always like that.

Naturally essay procrastination leads to watching crappy movies
Thathi has a thing for poorly made action movies. I have a thing for Hugh Laurie (and really it's only because of Blackadder) so when Thathi brought home Flight of the Pheonix I should have trusted my better judgement and not watched it. But it was Hugh Laurie (and I didn't want to study)! 113 minutes (plus previews) of my life which I will never recover. When in doubt, NEVER watch a remake, words cannot even begin to describe how terrible that flick was. Speaking of remakes though, I watched the original Ocean's 11, flipping amazing. A young Frank Sinatra, *swoon*

To make amends for my terrible lapse of judgement also known as the Flight of the Pheonix, I had to revisit some old friends. Meet some incredibly made Evian commercials. European of course. 'Evian Voices' is great, it's a montage of people lip synching to school kids singing Queen's We Will Rock You. My favorite, is the suit that's (*gasp*) singing in the elevator. 'Evian Water Boy' is soooooo cute. Of course it won a bunch of awards including a Clio. I'm sure you'll enjoy them more than the Flight of the Pheonix, or the Notebook. And no Alby, the final scene in that movie? It's not touching. It's cheesey.

*Sleeping In - The Postal Service

Prepare yourself for a rather useless diatribe

(Drunken debaucherous pictures from our lunch at Spring Rolls are here.)

"Dedicated with honour to the women and children of Calcutta's Red Light District*"
(Excuse the poor grammar and sentence structure. I wanted it to be an authentic diatribe. But really, I'd like to think that my small heart is still capable of warning people against the evil that is formally known as 'D's Run On Sentence of Death.' Consider yourselves warned.)

Photo courtesy of Kids With Cameras

I had wanted to see Born into Brothels for a really long time; way before the Oscar hype(have no fear, I have not gone mainstream. Not yet at least.) But as is often the case, I never get around to actually dragging myself to the theatre and justifying spending $13.50 on a movie that will eventually come out on DVD and can be rented for much less (and now with Blockbuster's wicked no late fees, what's the point anyway?!) I knew if I didn't go and watch it this week, there was no way I would get a chance anytime in the near future. So I pulled a Stan and went solo. Best decision I could have made, because I cried through parts of the bloody thing. And God only knows how big of an arse I would've felt if someone I knew witnessed that. The entire experience was incredibly thought provoking, as is often the case when dealing with documentaries of that sort.

I think my spiral into this month's bout of extreme leftism occured this past Tusday after I watched Cry Freetown (done by Sorious Samura of Living with Refugees fame) in one of my politics lectures. There was an absolutely horrific scene in that documentary where a deaf and mute 10 year old boy was stripped naked and beaten by Nigerian peacekeepers in Sierre Leone on suspicion of being a rebel snipper. He was sobbing and screaming for them to stop. Fanners had to cover her eyes while it was going on. I was immobilized, just sitting there in absolute shock and horror. Although I couldn't erase the images that I had seen from Cry Freetown I still willingly went to see Born into Brothels on Thursday. It's really difficult for me to quantify what I felt watching those two stellar documentaries; but simply put it felt like every single child who had crossed my path and affected me in some form or manner during my times in Mexico, Sri Lanka and Senegal was staring right back at me through the faces of the children on screen. The rawness of their lives once again came up and slapped me across the face. And what made it sting so much more is that for the first time I was able to feel shaken deep within myself while in Canada. As I was watching the little boy being beaten by peacekeepers, I felt the same tightness in my stomach as I did the day when a boy around the same age walked into the Talibe Centre (in Dakar) with horrible third degree burns all up and down his arms. The marabout he belonged to had thrown boiling water on him in a fit of rage. I remember there was a chubby little boy named Reuben in Mexico who insisted that we play frozen tag with him, I used to watch him and all the other little kids and wonder what life would be like for them if they had access to proper education and health care, what they would become. Kochi who is growing up in a brothel in Calcutta wondered the same thing; how different life could be for her if she could end the cycle of poverty and get an education. Childhood has been robbed from these children, their faces are full of innocence but their lives reflect something way beyond my understanding.

Even as I still try to rationalize all of this, I just can't. And to tell you the truth, I'm glad I can't, because really who wants to understand the real reasons behind why developed countries sit idly by and watch the third world go up in flames? Isn't it mind boggling to know that in this day of budget surpluses and booming economies there's still high levels of child poverty in the United States, England and Canada? More attention needs to be paid to the plight of children in poverty and not fixated on fighting a war on terror while millions are dying of preventable deaths every day. Even Richard Roeper rightly points out that films such as Born into Brothels needs more widespread recognition, "This is a movie about our world that deserves the attention and audience that Michael Moore's films command." (For the record, Michael Moore blows, and hopefully this will be the last time I find myself using Roeper to back me up on a point.)

A wise woman once said "Speak up for those who can't speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy." (Proverbs 31:8,9) So, who would like to step up to the plate?

*steps off soapbox* (I know, as of late i've been abusing it. But there's only so much I can hold in. Plus. No one told you that you had to read all of it. What? I msged you on MSN and made you. Well, that's possible, but technically you stillhad a choice. So can it.)

*Born into Brothels

Happy Chrismukkah!

Damn you $13.00 movie tickets!
Um. Yeah. So i'm a Scrooge around Christmas. I'm not averse to it. Really i'm not. I just hate the whole retail part of it. You know the malls, the nauseating music. On the other hand i love getting prezzies. Yeah, can the "Jesus is the reason for the season" schtick, He wasn't even BORN in December! Another thing that's great about Christmas time, the kick arse movies. Aiya and I go nuts. Recently we were saying how weird it'll be NOT to sit through 3 hours of Lord of the Rings while our gluts go numb and we make fun of the effeminate characters. However as I have noted to some of you already, a lot of my current boyfriends are in some really good movies. Not just eye candy folks, but QUALITY as well, and that's always good! Here's the shortlist:

The Assasination of Richard Nixon
The Aviator
Bad Education
Beyond the Sea
Bride and Prejudice
Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason
Closer
Finding Neverland
Hotel Rwanda
House of Flying Daggers
I am David
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
Meet the Fockers
The Merchant of Venice
Oceans 12
Ray
Sideways
A Very Long Engagement

Speaking of boyfriends and movies though. I watched The Sound of Music yesterday, and i remembered how great Christoper Plummer was in his youth! Come on ladies you have to admit, those girlie men like Jude Law et al (who are undoubtedly good looking nonetheless) are really nothing in comparison the men of old. They just don't make 'em like Gregory Peck, Paul Newman, or Robert Redford anymore.

What do you expect for 15 bucks!
Yeah. Uh. I got my haircut at WalMart. I told you fanners that i was going to live it up white trash styles this Christmas. Along with the haircut i have a full cupboard of KD, a fridge full of chicken weiners and other disgusting things that i would never normally eat. Aiya has just informed me that we will be partaking in a meal of Miss Vicki's jalapeno chips, KD, and vanilla coke. Pretty crappy Christmas eh? It feels like a total fast forward! To add to it, flipping Oliver decides to screw over my Christmas eve by EATING house plants and random intervals. This i'm not used to. He has his bouts of evilness, but i think this is the worst he's ever done in terms of destruction. There was potting soil all over the living room carpet, hopefully i can ground the dirt into it. That way my parents will be forced to get rid of it and we can have hardwood again!

Quips
Him: Niles, Copernicus called, he said you're not the centre of the universe

Her: Not only do i have a plan. I have a dress too!

Thathi and I talking politics
Him: It's terrible what happened to Viktor Yushenko isn't it?
Me: Yeah, it is. And he was pretty good looking too!
Him: Movie star good looks.
Me: umm.
Him: No. I'm the only every day man that has the looks of a movie star*
*side note* Aiya: "Yeah, a Tamil movie star"

Thorn and i discussing the merits of getting haircuts at WalMart
Her: What the hell did you do?!
Me: It was only 15 bucks! And i got what i expected
Her: Yeah. I learned a long time ago, it's best not to be cheap when it comes to personal appearance
Me: Amen!
Both: We're so superficial

Well Kiddies, MERRY CHRISTMAS and all that jazz. Remember 91.1 FM will be playing Christmas swing tomorrow so remember to listen! Hope to see you all on the 28th :)

Karma police, I've given all I can!!

This is what you get
This is what you get
This is what you get when you mess with us*

Today was pure evil. I swear. It was like the karma police were after me! There was no escaping. It all started with the wet hair that i went to bed with last night. I woke up and my bangs looked like Cameron Diaz's from that scene in There's Something About Mary, hence the bobby pin action. I had a crap load of books that i had to schlep with me so i put them all in a nice big, sturdy, impenetrable Gap bag. As always the Brimley bus was late and I had to stand out in the pouring rain as it hurled itself at me. So i get on the bus and i'm about to sit down when it jerks, and the bottom of my Gap bag gives way and everything falls out! Oh yeah. I forgot to mention. My bag was made out of paper. The ONE DAY i decide to pack my lunch had to be today, because of course it was in the bag, and my little tangerine rolled across the floor like it was doomsday. I also probably should have worn a Bounty paper towel rolls on my feet today instead of shoes, because they sure do feel like 'the thicker picker upper' right now. The sad thing is, the day isn't even over yet. I'll stop whining. I all of a sudden feel Jewish and it's scaring me.

Not Now Magical Arctic Puffin!!
Speaking of Jewish people, if you want some mindless yet hillarious entertainment, go and rent the Hebrew Hammer. I can say no more. It was too good. I FINALLY saw Elf. The same night as when i watched the Hammer. I've said it before, but man, Will Ferrell=GENIUS! I liked Elf, but A Night at the Roxbury and Old School were better. I'm STILL waiting to see Anchorman though, that looks flipping funny. I know it says so much about me as a person doesn't it? ;)

"You know what the 'W' stands for right?"
So Dubya came to Canada. *woot*woot* (feel the sarcasm?) Funny thing is, a)He refused to address parliament and b)He didn't come to Toronto. What a wuss eh? If he had come to Toronto, the entire university would've shut down and we all would've been outside of the US Consulate. Bus loads of protestors went from U of T to Ottawa. So he played it safe and went to Halifax. I was watching the National last night, and they were taking a look at America's reaction to Canadian anti-Americans. It was so sad. One guy on Fox who was wearing a bow-tie said that Canadians don't like Americans because we 'feel inferior' to them. Yeah. That's it Pee Wee. You keep believing that. But really, what IS up with all the anti-Americanism that's going on? I think most Canadians are retards because they can't seem to separate Bush from America. I know it's pretty hard to, since the majority of Americans actually DO like him and that in itself is pretty scary. But still. Come on! Give it a break already.

The people have spoken
The Greatest Canadian? Tommy Douglas of course! I don't agree with anti-Americanism, but i don't agree with the people who say that Canada's an extension of the U.S either because clearly we're not. What other country would vote a Baptist Premier from out West who instituted universal healthcare as their greatest citizen? Canadians and their drugs eh?

Today's World AIDS Day, and I can't help but thinking about James Orbinski (instrumental in getting generic retroviral HIV/AIDS medication available, and also the president of MSF when they won the Nobel Peace Prize - note if you read the speech it was done in 1999, read what he has to say about the U.S' involvement in Sudan. Very interesting). I remember when he came in and spoke in one of my first year politics classes. He was such an inspiration! The only reason why Canada is such a leader in the fight against AIDS is because of people like him and Stephen Lewis. I think I agree with my boyfriend Bono when he said "The world needs more Canada."

*Karma Police - Radiohead

Do you think there's a cure for Dromomania?

So Sven came and went. We had a wicked time, go and see Diarious de Motocicleta (Motorcycle Diaries) you won't regret it. (Plus Gael García Bernal is so pretty!!!) I've always wanted to go to Peru, but frig, after watching that movie i want to go even more! I know it's not just me, but this week has been nuts eh? At least it's starting to calm down a bit, and i shouldn't really be complaining b/c us artsies get off really easily. I feel sorry for you guys who had to do mid-terms! I just had a crap load of papers, i remember Kellen once said during his first year of university he had so many term papers coming out of his arse he could feel the paper cuts >_<.

I think that the dromomania is settling in once again folks. Leave me alone. I know. It comes every three months, and it seems only when things get really hectic. But honestly i do think it's an incurable disease. *sigh* i guess that is my lot in life. Right now i want to go to Morrocco really badly, even when i was in Senegal i wanted to go to Morrocco. I think that's because the only person who was relatively close to my age was part Morrocan and part French, he had a lot to say about it, and also because i read that book "A Street in Marrakesh," that really was a clincher. Fricking books. If i didn't read them life would be so much simpler. I'd never want to travel anywhere ;). And i want to go to these places b/c the names are so exotic. How can you not want to go to a place named Dar Es Salam, Khartoum, Addis Ababa, Lagos...

Well flying away to some exotic locale is not the only way to cheer up the mid-semester blues. Shopping always does the trick, so perhaps i will go on a spree tomorrow. Getting my haircut is also fun, and something that needs to be done *cough* after the self-cut bangs affair of September. I've also suddenly been seized with the desire to clean my entire room up. Yeah. I can't explain it either. Then of course there's looking for some place to volunteer. We all know i only volunteer for self-serving purposes. Pfft, i wasn't at War Child for the kids, i was there b/c i was bored!

Speaking of War Child
The other day when Aiya and i were heading downtown we bumped into one of his acquaintances on the subway. He looked really familiar, and i recognized him from the NGO Fair from the spring, LOL where i manned the War Child booth and he even remembered that i was squeezed between the two Oxfam nuts. He's taken a year off from Med School and he's heading out to Latin America, i was burning with envy. Here's a conclusion i have come to, and a huge broad biased generalization. (Damn it i'm tired of being politically correct ;)) Have you noticed that people who are a lot like me, meaning love to travel, want to go into international development, listen to kick ass music (no bias at all) have somewhat of a sense of adventure (I AM adventurous. Stop laughing. It's called "calculated risk" remember!) the people who are like that tend to be gross dirty hippies. This guy was no exception. Yeah usually people like this tend to be white (esp. the U of T folk) but this guy, he was brown, and DISGUSTING. Stupid Aiya got off at PAPE station, so i was stuck with this yobo until i got to campus b/c we were going the same way. I have all the luck i know

Sorry, this post was pointless. My brain is totally fried. I'll give you guys something better next time. Hopefully i'll have some good pictures of Oliver's graduation (Monday's his last class!!!).

With your feet in the air and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head will collapse
But there's nothing in it
And you'll ask yourself

Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?

Way out in the water
See it swimmin'

I was swimmin' in the Carribean
Animals were hiding behind the rocks
Except the little fish
But they told me, he swears
Tryin' to talk to me to me to me

Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?

It's, it's like a lava lamp!

OoOo lots of things to talk about!! I have been having lots of random fun.

But first
A lexicon of terms, for those who asked for clarification.
Ammi - Sinhalese, means mom
Thathi - Sinhalese, means dad
Aiya - Sinhalese, means older brother
Oliver - our Jack Russell Terrier
Punchy - Sinhalese for little, it's what we call my mom's younger sister
Ranjan Bappa - Punchy's husband
Vhindiya - My female cousin
Paul - My other female cousin
Bro/Sis - I go to a hardcore Pentecostal church, need i say more?
Alby, Copto, Genis/Gene/Tool, Labro etc - Friends from high school.
Thorn - University buddy

And now in no particular order a smattering of how i have been occupying myself

:) Slobo's Baby Shower - Baby Showers are fun. They're even more fun when they're for friends! Slobo's was great. The moment of the night had to have been the "Copto" revelation. Copto was demanding answers and no one could give him any! (Slobo holding up Genis' baby clothes!)

:) Meeting the Dutch hottie - Alby and I had loads of fun. Perhaps the best part of it all was watching Dirjk (the Dutch hottie) fold his massive 6 foot+ frame into ammi's tiny little Carolla. (l-r: Dutch cuties + Alby)

:P Going to the Blue Jays' Game - I hate baseball. I still had fun though. It all started off with a guy hitting on Alby, using the smooth pick up line of "Hi, were you at Spring Rolls on Sunday night? I saw you there, my name is Kelly" *extends creepy hand* Alby getting excited and hitting Sonic's hand and Sonic spilling Coke on her upper thigh. Labro "supposedly" getting asked for her phone number by Jays' starting pitcher 'Botista' none of us have a clue as to who the heck he is LOL. Being told we're not allowed to take pictures in the stadiuam b/c it's "distracting" to the players. Riight. So we took one anyway. (l-r: Sonic and Alby)

:) Shopping with Alby like it was 1999 - To make up for the lost summer Alby and i saw a tonne of movies after i finished work. The one that really sticks out the most though is the night we went to see Collateral (of course we had to assign real life characters, Alby was Jamie Foxx, and i was Tom Cruise i don't remember who was Jada Pinkett, but it was probably Genis as usual). We went shopping before the movie and came to this conclusion. It would be impossible for us to have a psychological disorder. We could never be anorexic b/c we don't have ANY self control...we must eat. And we can't be "cutters" either b/c neither of us would ever have the guts to cut ourselves :) Another more important conclusion. Shopping for jeans = robbing a chick of all self-esteem that they might have. Flipping jeans. The sad thing is. They really do. To make amends i bought a fetching purse for a fetching price.

:) Monet - So Thorn and i went to see the Impressionist exhibit that was going on at the AGO. Whistler, Monet, and Turner. Let me tell you. It kicked some serious arse. I had such a good time. We got our tickets for free b/c some lady didn't want to wait in the crazy long entrance line. I can't wait to go to Europe. I finally got a real taste of what it's like to see the work of artists that you admire up close. There was a certain thrill in looking at paintings that you're familiar with...seeing the individual brush strokes, looking at the signature and all the minute little details and knowing that you and a couple of hundred other people in the room are looking at a piece of history. *emo shudder.* This is also the day i cut my own bangs in the bathroom. They were getting too long! (Thorn at the crusty St. Patrick's Station hold up one of our FREE ticket stubs :))

:S People trying to be philosophical, when they shouldn't - I was on the subway and this was taped to the seat in front of me. I think the ridiculousness of it speaks for itself. I hope it's clear enough for you to read it. (Read me if you dare!)

:( It's, it's like a lava lamp! - I know low-rise, crotch dusting jeans are supposedly in style. I too hate wearing pants that are too high. BUT. Something about having your arse hang out of your pants everytime you bend over does not appeal to me either. PEOPLE. PLEASE. STOP. WITH. THE. OVER. EXPOSURE. So Thorn and I are walking on Bloor street b/c she wanted to go and check Aritzia out. Just ahead of us is a fat chick in low rise pants and a CROPPED vintage t-shirt two sizes too small. I'm not thin. I know that. But as i stated above, i don't wear those freaking ultra low rise pants. Her rolls were out for the entire world to see. There must have been a foot of exposure from the waist of her pants to the bottom of her shirt. I like to keep my rolls private. But really. They were mesmerizing. Thorn aptly pointed out that "it's, it's like a lava lamp."

More Recently
Fanners and I hit up H&M. I got a sweet men's hat :) After H&M we went to Old Navy. Where we tried on children's Halloween costumes. Fanners is freakishly small, and i have a freakishly small head and feet. We took these pictures in the mirror; hence the overall bad quality picture. I'm a mouse, and Fanner's is a fairy :P (l-r: Fanners et moi)

:D Olivier - He got a new collar. It's kind of like a muzzle. But not so evil and mean. He hates it as you can see here, here, and here lol. He started obedience school, and he's bad so he gets stuck with a "Gentle Leader" as it is called. For the Sri Lankan/Indians out there. When you were a kid did you ever use your dad's sarong/lungi as a swing? I used to do it ALL THE TIME. Oliver enjoys doing it too. Yeah, Thathi's wearing a Scotiabank t-shirt. (Thathi and Ollie at the kitchen table)

In other news
We might have 30 people staying with us for Thanksgiving weekend. Yeah it's that time of year again! Our church is having it's annual Thanksgiving Conference (which you are ALL most welcome to attend btw!! October 7-10) and they want to take advantage of all the space in our empty basement. We have 3.5 washrooms. Will this be a billeting nightmare(as in years past)? Or billeting fun time? Stay tuned to find out!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

I must confess I do like snow...well I like the first snowfall and that's about it. Snow after the first snowfall = dreary Canadian winters and we all know how great those are! Not that I should complain because those poor people in the prairies get it so MUCH worse than we do in Toronto with our stupid "Lake Effect snow." Snow however is only supposed to be outside when it's cold. NOT in August. Richmond Street was closed again yesterday for freaking Cindrella Man. Traffic was disgusting and the amount of humanity outside gawking was ridiculous. Why can't they shoot on a weekend is what I'd like to know. So why were all these people outside? Other than to see Russell Crowe, there was snow out!!!! The entire street was covered in snow, the Model T Fords, old fashioned trolleys, everything covered in snow. By the time it hit five though most of it had melted :(

The Warsaw Uprising
This past Sunday marked the 60th Anniversary of the Warsaw Uprising. It's difficult for me to think about the uprising without thinking about the ordinary people, how they wanted to rise up against the opression and take a stand. Those individuals that wanted to make a change; they weren't alone in Poland all across Europe the underground resistance was working. It makes me think of modern day Iraq.

Oh YES Wyoming!

(*sorry, but blogger's being stupid today, for some reason i can't post my links in properly...i'll try to fix it up when i get home!!)
This is old news, but I love the Seinfeld/Superman tag team action for those online commercials. *SIGH* I LOVE SEINFELD, his show is right up there in my list of fave TV shows (along with The Office, Blackadder, Monty Python's Flying Circus... the list can go on...) I haven't quiet decided on Curb Your Enthusiasm yet. It's almost like watching Seinfeld with a different character playing Jerry. I know Larry David was one of the creators, but the similarities are often eerie *shudder* Well back to those commercials. I think there should be a musical written about Toronto, just like for Wyoming. That way I could use lyrics from the musical as the title for this blog entry. What I would have really liked to say is "OH YES TORONTO."

OH YES TORONTO :)
I love Toronto (more than I love Jerry Seinfeld), but sometimes I wonder about this fair city I live in. It's hurting. Badly. Our city is full of beautiful people. Who can't dress. The other night on the Subway I saw a woman whose earrings were made out of TOONIES . That's right. Toonies. There is no excuse for that. Last week in the morning on the way to work we got stuck between Victoria St and Bay on Richmond b/c there was no electricity in the street lights. Why? Because they were shooting Cinderella Man (the new Russel Crowe boxing flick) outside of the Bay and needed to use old fashioned street lamps. Thus I was delayed from getting to work on time AND was hit on my super gross techies with mullets who were old enough to be my dad *vomit.* Although I see this whole Hollywood North thing as Canada prostituting itself for some US bling I realize how much cash it brings into our cash strapped film economy...total conundrum if you ask me. Well I'm yet to see Russell Crowe but the set is pretty cool. They've turned the Bay into Madison Square Gardens, and it looks better as MSG than anything else so far. In other news it looks like I will not see Ja Rule either. Freaking guy was right across the street from me last week too for his court appearance!! And you guys KNOW how much i LOVE his music. Some people have all the luck

A Love/Hate Relationship with the Scarborough Rotary Ribfest
So it's already established that I'm a pretensious snob when it comes to cultural things. I'm sorry but I'm just not a Ribfest sort of person. Mullets scare me. The music of Twisted Sister gives me nightmares. The 80s must go away. It is however possible to find the 80s in its purest most concentrated form at certain social gatherings. Like NASCAR (Elspeth can attest to this), and the Scarborough Rotary Ribfest . At first I loved it, because it gave me the entire house to myself on Friday night, which was AMAZING. I don't remember the last time I had the house to myself, to sit around and do absolutely nothing with no one around. As opposed to sitting around and doing nothing with the entire family around. Refreshing. The however came Saturday. That's when I began to despise my liberator. The Ribfest had to go. I couldn't HANDLE the BAD 80s music interspersed with bad Country and Western. I love music from the 80s The Cure rock (and they're coming to town next week for their Curiosa Festival!) but not blared from Thompson Park and invading my afternoon nap time! Even Oliver was unimpressed, he felt threatened by a mini Pomeranian and went and hid on the front porch ;) All in all, Ribfest can take a hike next year. However, one highlight of Saturday. I rode my bike down St.Andrews by the old church just after the downpour. There's something about being outside after a heavy rainfall. I think it's the smell, you know that damp earthy smell...

The Interpreter
There are very few things that will make me seriously consider moving to the States, particularly New York city. Among the few: Having the Beastie Boys , Interpol AND the Strokes living within a close proximity and being available for summer BBQs whenever I want them to come; scoring that dream job with the UN . I'm not big into watching movies in theatres, mainly because I think it's highway robbery to force someone to pay upwards of $13.00 for a movie that would look just fine on a TV screen. Buuuut, I'm TOTALLY stoked for the Interpreter, because for now I'm going to have to live vicariously through Nicole Kidman until I actually score that dream job at the UN. It's the only movie that's ever been allowed to actually shoot inside the General Assembly. Which is pretty wicked if you ask me.

...Well it's the beginning of August, so that means I need to go on my magazine run at lunch!!! As Fez would say, "I say good day"