philth

My failures at thoroughly cleaning out my room are well documented. The last time I attempted I got severely derailed because I found heaps of old things that I didn't know I had and then took pictures. This time an ultimatum was passed down by Ammi over the weekend. Under no circumstances was the new year allowed to befall without a complete clean up of the living quarters. What antiquated superstition she was trying to impose on me only God knows but I did comply. For very different reasons, but still.

1. Running out of clean clothes: scrounging around for clean socks and underwear at ungodly hours of the morning are not acceptable practice for someone who keeps everything so finely timed (i.e. does not roll out of bed until absolutely necessary)

2. Newly acquired clothing was going missing. Ditto for pairs of shoes. I could locate one while the other would be carelessly tossed into some corner not to be found until unneeded.

3. I was starting to get grossed out.

It should come as no surprise that having a steady paycheque has also meant a steady influx of new material possessions.


I rocked a sari for the very first time at V-mantie's wedding in October. I think alby may have very well nearly shit herself. Ammi naturally had to treat herself to some new threads as well because sari shopping with me was no easy feat. That scarf is the blouse piece from one that she picked up. The cardi's new and that t-shirt is an oldie but a goodie. Aiya bought it for me a couple of summers back and it's one of my prized possessions.


Yes. Yes. Poor Oliver. Enough. If he wants to lounge uninvited on my bed he must pay. So yet another fedora to add the collection of wool ones that I never wear. In my defence it was going on sale for 10 bucks at Urban Outfitters. How can you say no to a deal like that??


When does a super cute clutch ever need an explanation? That shirt on the other hand, it's a story in and of itself. It's actually an ancient Club Monaco shirt of Aiya's that I now wear as a wrap dress. Honestly, it's a men's XXL. There's not much else that I could do with it but I love the colour palette.


If I knew how to paint I'd imagine myself wearing a smock similar to do this while pretending to be inspired. One thing that's died very hard in my foray into bonafide corporate whoring is giving up the kitschy wardrobe. I try to mix it up as much as I can with faux-vintage pieces like this but sadly they only come out to play on casual Fridays. In my past life this would've been considered "meeting attire."


That inability to wear heels? Yeah. I still haven't found a cure for that debilitating disease yet. It's tough seeing Labro every single day at work and have her tower over me. Sadly the option of falling on my ass every time there's a lump in the rug really is not viable either. What? Flats can be hot too!


Ugh. What is up with the snow? You know all these weather peeps were saying that this year we wouldn't get pelted with as much snow as last but I think those mofos be lying yo. The last couple of days have really not been fun and from what I understand this week's not going to be overly pretty either. Thankfully I got my new boots just in time and believe me, sourcing these out was NOT an easy task. When it comes to winter boots I am uber picky. I haven't bought a new pair in over four years because I was totally in love with my old ones. (I got them from Gap kids!)


Mad Men is one of my favourite TV shows. It's interesting because out of all the shit you find running during the summer this is actually a show that Ammi and I can agree on watching. She sits back in abject horror and relives what it was like to be a woman breaking into the early days of the ad industry and lust after Ms. Holloway. Anyone who can get away with saying "décolletage" without coming across like an utter tool is A-OK in my books. If I had the above blouse and shoes around Halloween I totally would've dressed up as Joan. Alas both were rather recent acquisitions.


Vests like clutches? Never enough I say! Especially when they have been bought at 85% off the original price. Even I like to bargain shop folks. Don't be fooled.


Who knew that my new favourite pair of jeans would come from Old Navy! I sure as hell never did. Those shoes, I *heart* them but they're damn uncomfortable. I need to invest in some good insoles ASAP. Also, what is up with those weird veins popping out of my feet? WTF. I really hope it's the weird angle that I was holding the camera in because that's just creepy. From my vantage point I've never seen those before!


Handbag purchases fall into a category all on their own. Unlike a clutch I will not impulsively buy a handbag. The issue is that I hate carrying around a camera bag with all my gear shoved into it, I'd much rather have a roomy handbag. I feel a bit less paparazzo you know? This bag is parfait. It's got loads of space for my camera body, 3 lenses, external flash and even tripod attachment pieces with room left over for other shit. The best thing? I personally don't think it comes across looking like a massive Mary Poppins bag. Oh. The scarf I'm wearing around my wrist? A gift from Aiya. The only piece of Liz Claiborne in my wardrobe. Since my bed was occupied by a sleeping hound I had to take advantage of the parentals' room for this photo.


See above: inability to wear heels. Also, my current favourite pair of socks :)


I found this scarf tucked away in a bag of stuff that I hadn't touched since coming back from London. Man, talk about sentimental value. It was one of my very first purchases from the Salvation Army way, way back in high school. I'm pretty sure that I was with alby when I hunted this down and paid 75 cents for it. Technically not a new item, but a found one! That cardigan? Hah, I picked that up at a dodgy store in Wellawatte right across the street from the Savoy. Best 250 Rs I ever spent in my life.


I was in desperate need of a new winter coat. One day when I was waiting to pick up the fascist from the bus station I popped into the local H&M and walked out with an inexpensive winter coat. Natch I needed to get a bag to match. Incidentally those leather gloves are actually goatskin ones that I bought at Odel about 4 years ago. They're perfect for winter driving because I can't deal with a frozen steering wheel and these take the chill right out.

Single parent family

Thathi's half a world away and he still manages to wreak unspeakable havoc on my life even from such vast distances. I got a 6:30 AM wakeup call from him yesterday. Ugh. I know he hates going on vacation alone but honestly in this instance I suppose he really didn't have much of a choice. This is the first Christmas that my grandmother's having in over 60 years that doesn't involve my grandfather. I can't even begin to fathom it actually. Like I've mentioned before, old people come better in pairs like socks and twix. Fortunately for me Ammi has not yet entered into the annoying stage of things just yet but I'm sure our time will come soon enough. We definitely don't have an overly traditional family setup going on for us at the homestead and one thing has become more evident. Ammi would've really sucked as a single parent.

In other news Oliver is entering day #5 of deperession. Yesterday he was leaning against the bathtub in the lightless bathroom for close to 30 minutes. No amount of coaxing could get him out. Labro came by last night to play some pool and this is the furthest he got down the stairs. The blighter is so dramatic. He just sat on the landing in this forlorn manner. Hopefully his spirits will be lifted this afternoon when we got out to shovel snow. Ugh. I can't believe that they're expecting two more snowstorms by Friday. TinyLF is going to get his plump self stuck in the snow on the way to Toronto this Friday. The goose.

Off we go

I may have figured out how to attach pictures to blogspot posts via my iPhone but who really knows? We'll have to wait and see after this post is done.

So the old man is off to Sri Lanka today and I should totally be on the flight with him at 6. Sadly that is not to be because of the new job. Most of the packing is done now and it's just the last minute freak outs. Ugh. I wish he'd just leave already. Old ppl are so ftl.

Poor Oliver has already spiralled into depression.

First belated obligatory post

So. I've impulsively gone and bought myself an iPhone with my first fat paycheque. Being a corporate whore is fantastic by the way. I can actually afford an insane data plan and still have enough leftover to make shoe purchases amongst a host of other things.

I'm going to attempt to afix a picture to this post but who knows.

Incidentally I've got a job interview tomorrow and am hoping to lean heavily on the built in gps to get me there on time. My stupendous lack of direction both in life and reality will no doubt find a way to circumvent technology.

Ignatieff's been made the leader of the Libs and although I totally love him but his acceptance speech? 'My determined determination' oh Michael!

I saw the constellations reveal themselves one star at a time

I haven't felt like this in a very long time. Actually scrap that, it's been a little over a year since the last time. You know? When I feel like my life has spiraled out of my control causing me to become a complete and utter failure? It's never one of those things that can be anticipated. Doesn't hinge on SAD; autumn is my favourite season (and it's been rather magnanimous too, considering our bleak and wet summer). It just happens.

I've had one of those cliched "landmark" 12 months. (Maybe it's because I'll always be a student at heart but a year is September to September.) At this stage in life, every year that goes by is supposed to be progressing at the same rate and scale as a Homeric epic. Except that my story has no invocation of a muse and far more resembles the epci phail variety of Murphy's Law. There has been nothing artful or poetic in the route I took to get here. Watching Levi Johnstone's drunken yet adroit hand unhook Bristol Palin's bra for the first time probably would've been more poignant and meaningful.

So here I am, brimming with wasted potential waiting for what's supposed to be the next big phase and wondering if it's my fault that the I am where I am. I've often pointed out that with a sub-conscious like mine having a well-dressed-dastardly arch nemesis would sort of be superfluous. Somehow I've managed to become an unrivaled self-saboteur. The most recent and weighty example of this would be the whole drama surrounding my foreign service application.

I was told by my grade nine guidance counsellor that it is not uncommon for people to go through 3 or more career changes before settling in for the long haul. Of course I didn't pay any heed to what she had to say, I already knew what I wanted to do and where I was going to do it. Yes. I do want to slap my grade nine-self right upside the head. At current count I think I'm already briskly moving towards career change number 3 or even a potential 4th. Surprisingly this does not bother me as much as I thought it would and that bothers me.

Since I've recently become one of the first casualties of the financial crisis, scanning all the requisite places for a new job has become a regular fixture. During one of these daily perusals I discovered that I had 7 days to get my shit together for some post-grad federal government positions at CSIS and Foreign Affairs.

I sat on it.

Decided living in Ottawa would blow.

Bounced the idea off of a few friends.

Had them tell me that living in Ottawa would blow.

Then I finally reluctantly recalled the time when an on-campus recruiter had suggested that I join up. A job at CSIS/Foreign Affairs is the "grown-up" thing that remained constant through all the high school angst, university uncertainty and career letdowns. One of the last original things about me.

I was too afraid to apply because the thought of being rejection blew harder than the thought of living in Ottawa.

Again, that too really bothered me. The apathy that I thought was only reserved for fundamental Christians and politics was seeping into my own life a bit faster than I had anticipated. I've felt the shift for a long time but never thought it would engulf me so soon. After every one of these little mini-life-direction-crisis-points are done and finished with it feels like I've said goodbye to another part of me.

My life up to this point has been shaped with the mantra of not having any regrets. I've doggedly tried to adhere as closely to that as possible (which has caused some to call me impulsive). So I forced myself to go through the application process, which I did in a state of automatism. I remember tweeting at the time that, "I can't recognise the person staring back at me."

It all felt so unnatural and I suppose that neatly sums up where I'm at now? My life is no longer being actively lived out by me, instead I've just become a casual observer who flips through when there's nothing else to watch.

*Title shamelessly stolen from a line in Bobcaygeon by The Hip.

Captain Cold Feet

I've had to put my sandals permanently away because sock weather is upon us kids and I can't deal. My head space has been a bit weirder than it normally is and despite having more things than usual to blog about I can barely muster two coherent sentences let alone a fluid post.

Spent the better part of the afternoon staring blankly at my computer screen trying to write a wee 300 word essay on why I'd be a suitable candidate to join the Canadian Foreign Service. Right now I'm slightly more interested in exploring why Cutty Ranks just never seems to gets old.

Dear David Emerson, (Minister of Foreign Affairs and International Trade)

Although I will never, ever vote for your party (in the current election and all subsequent ones to follow) I listen to good dancehall music. This should alleviate any concerns you should have about my levels of competency and ability to be a super secret spy.

Much love to the wife and kids!

Aiya and I beat a hasty retreat during a super horrifically awkward family dinner on Monday night and managed to catch another "Road Talk."


Mace from rasti on Vimeo.

Clearly the dancehall thing has been recurring all week. Also just to be clear, he doesn't wear fugly crocs. Aiya prefers these. Something about the breathable cork yadda comfortable yadda.

Road Talks

Aiya and I are lame. We like Ben Stiller movies and fart jokes. Our parents get annoyed because we giggle like maniacs and it grates on their nerves. Despite sporting a fairly significant age gap we get along really, really well. Of course this wasn't the case when he was in his teens. Things only started improving after he left high school.

So he's moved out of the house and I don't get to see him as often as I did before. It does suck but due to a few personal issues that have cropped up in his life he's around a lot more. Even though the circumstances aren't the best it's really nice to have him around. Our time together usually revolves around getting good Chinese food and watching really juvenile movies. The night we were going to see Tropic Thunder (amazing movie by the way, I'm so glad we saw it with a theatre full of 14 year old boys), he suggested that I turn on the video camera on my phone and let it roll.

My apologies in advance because the clips are all turned over on their sides. I'm a technopeasant :(

**disclaimer: Aiya's a total racialist and I feel the need to point out that the hate mail should be directed towards him.


Untitled from rasti on Vimeo.
Yeah I'm a tool. "Road Trips?" Those are things you TAKE not record on your phone.


Untitled from rasti on Vimeo.
A few things Aiya's waxing on about finding a mate, "mara" is what we call Thathi, the official "euthaniser of relationships" title belongs to someone else but I like to mix it up and I don't really know why Aiya's talking in a Sri Lankan accent either.


Untitled from rasti on Vimeo.
He did end up parking in the handicap spot, limping out and leaving me with those two creepy hindustani dudes as company

Domestication

Having Abi around as my only close Sri Lankan girlfriend means that we can have a heartier laugh over some of the more ridiculous elements of our culture than I could with, say, Alby. Since we're considered to be of "marriageable" age these days we find older, more meddlesome friends of our parents seeing the need to make comments on our varying levels of "domestication." As Abi puts it, they make it sound like we're feral beasts who've only just barely managed to be paper trained or something.

Cleaning is really not my forte, not that I'll never do it, I just don't derive the same pleasure from it as Alby does. If I'm mucking around in the kitchen I'll clean up after myself, but my room? An absolute nightmare, something akin to my locker in high school. However clutter in my living spaces drive me bonkers. I'm sort of like Monica but instead of a closet I've got a bedroom. I've been meaning to purge it out for sometime now and since we had a new cleaning service coming in this afternoon I figured that now would be as good a time as any. One thing I never take into consideration is my ability to get easily distracted. I start finding things, old clothes to try on, books which get skimmed through, sweetly scribbled handwritten notes on pieces of random paper...you know, the things that'll totally make me sit down and take a closer look.

It all started innocently enough. I swear.


I was told to run down to the basement and make sure none of Oliver's toys were on the floor before the cleaning ladies came. That's when I caught sight of one of Lokku Mammah's blue Barefoot shirts in a garbage bag. Aiya had claimed that shirt a few years ago and I was surprised to see it in the give-away pile that he had put together just before he moved. So I ran upstairs and tried to figure out a way that I could wear said shirt without looking like a tool. That was really the beginning of the end. I coupled it with my favourite pin-stripped vest and one of my grandfather's ties.

I love that shade of blue.


While rummaging through my scarf/tie rack looking for Papa's tie I came across this little tie. It belongs to one of my most favourite shirts of all time, which surprise, surprise I'm now way too fat to even poke a finger into. I practically lived in that shirt when I was working in Colombo. The stripes and the white take me right back to all of that. Note the absolute squalor in the background. (And apparently, I was told, my hair looks FAKE in the above? I know right? How dare he etc.)


Guys, remember when I was totally obsessed with the Beastie Boys? Oh. Wait. That's right I still am. I bought this hat right around the time "To The Five Boroughs" came out. It was my homage to them. This was the hat I was wearing when I failed my driver's test for the 3rd time, it was around Thanksgiving too. On a side note, if it was possible to hug Paul's Boutique I think I would. Also, Adam Horowitz? I'm totally single and available (age means nothing). Call me!


One of my favourite people in the world totally misjudged me and gave me a black and beige organza sari from Singapore. I love her to bits but not enough to even attempt rocking it. The sari went to Ammi but I held on to the blouse piece which has alternatively been on my bed and also used as a scarf. It is surprisingly warm and makes me giggle at the stupendous lapse of judgement.


This penchant for scarves of all sizes is like a filthy drug. I'm going to end up a toothless junkie because of it. Last summer in Colombo the bossman and I made a quick dash to Cotton Collection to pick out a shirt for some fuddy duddy meeting he was attending the following day. This little scarf was by the cash register for 100 Rs so he grabbed it for me. On our way out to the parking lot we were promptly shoved into a random saivar kade because the road was closed off for some minister. So we sat there and drank cups of ginger tea, shot the breeze and managed to leave without cholera. If I recall correctly this was the lovely workmate's favourite colour and he ended up designing the cover page of a report to match it. Perhaps that'll be my only real legacy in Sri Lanka.


The TinyLittleFascist used to always make fun of me because I had a tendency to wear something akin to a hijab when scampering around Colombo in tuktuks. The thing is my hair was a dirt magnet and it just made more sense to keep it covered up to avoid all the nastiness that would otherwise get trapped in it. I was immensely amused when I came home last summer and found that someone who had recently visited the Middle East decided it would be a great idea to give my Christian Fundamentalist mother an Islamic head dress. Fun times indeed people! I clearly wear it as a neck scarf and not a head one.


Really? Does the significance of this beret really need to be explained? If I need to spell it out then you don't deserve to know. However I will give you this, I've had it since I was in high school.


The very first vintage sweater I ever bought at Courage My Love. I think I shelled out 10 dollars for this beauty when I was in grade 9. Surprisingly enough it still fits but only because it's snug in all the right places. Trust me though, it could've gone either way. There's potential there for it to have looked horrific.


Most of the things that meant the most to my grandfather when he died went to my uncles and Thathi, which is totally fair. Aiya of course got the best stuff out of all the grandkids. I grabbed on to precious little that I could get hold of, mostly ties and scarves that the others weren't interested in. The above is actually a cummerbund which his bestfriend Carlyle brought back to him after a trip to London sometime in the early 1950s. It's starting to get a bit chillier out these days and I'm head over heels for the pattern on the cummerbund I figured that I'd start wearing it as an ascot in the fall instead of just using it as a cinch. Apparently it works? Both are cheating I know. Shh.


Again, I totally found this while rummaging. This is one of my favourite ties, I picked it up for 25 cents at the open Saturday market along la Rue Mariste in Dakar. Clothes and other items which people from the developed world hoping would go to needy people in Africa oftentimes ended up at the market for sale instead. I bought this tie along with 3 others, they were the first items I ever price-bargained for in Senegal. The rush of being able to haggle successfully in French? If there's any French speakers out there, you know what I'm talking about.

So it's now just after 2:40 AM my room still looks like the closet threw up and I'm left with the choice of just shoving my clothes off of the bed and onto the the other pile of clothes on the floor, sleeping on top of them, or just heading to the guest room to sleep tonight.

Choices.

*woot*

There are very few things in this world that get me this excited about anything. Canadian Politics unfortunately happens to be one of those few things. Turns out we'll be having an election in October, the rumours were true!

I didn't know what I was going to do with myself after the Olympics were over, there was nothing to obssess over, nohting to fill that big dark empty void. Then the DNC and RNC came along and provided me and many others with hours of entertainment. Frankly it's a miracle that I came out of the RNC alive. Palin? She makes me want to do harmful things to myself and despite the haterade she did look fantastic on Wedensday night.

Now? Now I've got a Canadian election to look forward too as well! Although I'm a bit sad becaues Stephane Dion is stuch a flipping asshat. *sigh* I'm nostalgic for the time when I actually thought that Michael Ignatieff would be leading the Liberal party. Mofo should've made an appearance in Canada slightly earlier than the year of the leadership race.

Stay tuned my pretties, remember the last time when there was large scale Canadian politics a foot?

EEK.

I wish it would stop raining.

A few odds and ends my lovelies. I got a new toy for my camera and have been snapping shit up.


My rain drenched driveway

I was observing a focus group on Thursday and inbetween the bajillion sessions my white middle aged client turns to the "hip young" account exec from the "hip young" ad agency and starts complaining about the weather. Apparently the client has been unable to use the pool the whole summer despite it being heated. As I inwardly rolled my eyes to the back of my skull the account exec's witty riposte went something along the lines of "Yeah I haven't been able to hit Muskoka and engage in some shit faced boating." (Drunk boating is BAD kids!) While I was trying to keep the chicken salad I was eating from climbing up my throat and spewing across my laptop at this blatant exhibit of elite WASP-ism, I caught myself.

Last week I was cursing Zeus for making it impossible for me to waste the early part of my week in an inner tube with my sunglasses and a drink. Then on Wednesday I got news that our planned cottage escape for the end of August? Canceled because the mate's parent's cottage has been heavily damaged by the torrential rains.

A quick perusal of the list at Stuff White People Like proved to be rather uncomfortable to a lass like me. Although the official title of "whitest brown person ever" belongs to my stateside doppelgänger I think that I may be swiftly moving in on that.

Disgusting? Absolutely.

Three cheers to upwards mobility though.

Moving along.


Oliver trying to escape from inside my grocery bag

One of the great things about being a consultant is the ability to do bugger all during the day and set your own hours. I was on an excursion last week at the famous grocery store and while bagging my groceries it occurred to me that I had totally become the caricature that I've been trying to vainly avoid for most of my adult existence. Someone recently, much to my chagrin, informed me that I have no reason to complain because I perpetuate it. As I looked down in my hand was a box of organic strawberries and rolling down my direction along the conveyor belt were some omega 3 fortified eggs, flax seed granola and low fat cream cheese amongst a host of other things.

In high school I was the spunky ethnic sidekick. I suppose now it's only fitting that I stop resisting and morph into the spunky-ethnic-suburban yuppie with a twist? (See below)


I've been in the market for a new watch for awhile. When I turned 15 Aiya got me a gorgeous vintage watch that I love dearly and am now petrified to wear. It's got a classic face and strap, it's totally timeless and classic. Having no money and a need for a timepiece I, like thorn, opted to hit up the local fleamarket to get the above gem for a steal of a deal. The place smelled like Majestic City on an average day and since I was feeling rather nostalgic, there was nary a tweet of complaint. It's a damn shame that I don't have $400 just casually lying around because I SO want one of these. Hopefully after a bit more corporate whoring I'll be able to justify that purchase by the end of next month.


Gaudy costume jewelery

Speaking of Majestic City, Thathi's office was one of the main sponsors of Masala!Mehndi!Masti! as a result our unwilling asses were dragged down thataways. Aiya and I both felt like we were back in Colombo. Poor sanitation, questionable food handling, lecherous men all present in spades and minus the 22 hour plane ride! The only plus side? I've discovered a few fantastic local South Asian artists who I'll definitely be calling in the near future to procure some original work.


A surprisingly dry day at the park
My dog is getting old people. This pose? It's becoming the norm when we go out for our walks these days. He does this and refuses to get up off the ground until he's caught his breath. I think it's time to start looking around for his replacement.


Cedric repping on top of a phone booth


And for all those who asked? Yes. The trip really sucked. But it's Virginia. What do you expect?

One last thing.

The Olympics?

TOTALLY ADDICTED.

My apologies in advance to everyone for falling off of the grid until August 24th. Seriously nothing makes me feel more patriotic than watching Canadian athletes engaging in physical activity. Especially when we have such a good looking contingent this year. Mmm.


Brent Hayden, one of our medal hopefuls


Our flagbearer Adam van Koeverden

Go team Canada.

How could I forget?

Last year's cake

Today is my best slag's birthday. Well, technically it's on the 30th but there's no way I'm going to be up past 11:59.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOUWER. I wish I was around the greater Colombo area to be on hand to surprise you shitless like last year. It's a shame that StupidLittleFascist is off jetsetting and unable to do my bidding. Which is sad really, since he is mansage.

So here's to you, the one who introduced me to the man that eventually broke my heart into a million little pieces. Picked me up off the ground and forced me to scream Bob Marley songs in an incoherent manner at R&B. Taught me that quiet geeks can be absolutely vile when questioned about check point etiquette and brought a new meaning to the phrase "purple haze."

Two posts in one day? I KNOW. Wtf is going on right?

That is the power of louwe people.

(s_cozy)

Don't step on a crack, or you'll fall and break your back.

As promised our next installment of "How to Combat Writer's Block via Blogging about Dinosaurs" features The Land Before Time. Srsly. This movie? It totally changed my elementary school life. My more astute readers will readily recognise today's title as a quote from Ducky. I vividly recall walking home from school with my peepz and looking down at the sidewalk purposely trying to avoid the cracks. Yeah, we were totally cool back in 1988. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Moving along.

I start work on Wednesday. Or something? (Does a day of wage negotiations and getting to know the client base count?) Curious Yellow asked me to "Pray tell" as have many others. I suppose the best way to answer that is I'm going to be paid to be me. There is copious amounts of travel slated, mingling with interesting people and also corporately whore-ish ones. Listening to music and watching movies is necessary along with shopping. I will be paid to shop. Let that sink in kids. I will be PAID TO SHOP.

My homz over here sums up the general nature of what I'll be doing rather neatly "they somehow turned an hour conversation into an hour signifying nothing: a brilliant art, a legerdemain of the mouth, a slight of tongue."

I think it's going to be perfect.

Denver.

Dinosaurs? For the next 6 months? Bring it.

I'll try but given my past track record with doing any kind of regulated blogging, holding your breath probably wouldn't be the best option. Does anyone remember the "12 Days of Christmas" that stopped with the 5th day? *cough*

I think we're all having debilitating writers block because of that lovely little web 2.0 app that we've been wasting our time on (s_angry). Here's the thing though, there are still things to blog about, things to talk about, pictures to post up. You've been complaining and trying to figure out how it's possible for a person to leave to Sri Lanka for a funeral go to London for (what was supposed to be) two years, come back, deal with the most scandalous family issues ever, become somewhat self-employed, back to unemployed and then land a dream job in the span of three months.

I suppose this is the reason why you sit here refreshing the page every hour to see if I've posted something new. *PATS* It's okay, your reward will come soon my pretties. Just not right now because all this babbling? It's supposed to be about DINOSAURS. Kudos to kerms for actually getting the ball rolling, I take my hat off (and only my hat, ahem,) to you sir.

So does anyone remember the above TV show? Denver the Last Dinosaur? Aiya and I used to watch it way back in the day. I checked out the wiki on it and couldn't help but chuckle. "The show revolved around the adventures of Denver, a dinosaur who was released from his dino egg by a group of multiracial modern California teens."

Come on, who wouldn't want to watch a show like that on Saturday morning?!

Next post: The Land Before Time among other things.

I am nothing if I am not chaotic.

I always manage to misplace the most important things 20 seconds before I need them. Leaving for Virginia and I can't find my passport. Predictably it shows up 1.5 hours before the allocated departure time under my bed wrapped in the sleeve of a tshirt.

If this was plurk I'd be raising my red fist of anger and shaking it furiously.

Beverage Sensitivity Training

There's a new Loblaws that's opened up near the house, one of those giant "SuperStores." While I was meandering through the aisles I found the above gem. Were you aware that beverages could have ethnicity? Apparently they can be divided into cultural, linguistic, religious and geographic groups. Who knew? I wonder how their grand metanarratives are constructed. To think, all this time I always thought that soft drinks were either carbonated or flat.

My hat goes off to the corporate genius that figured mango and pineapple juice are too exotic to be contained in the same aisle as the Welches. These are the kinds of things that seriously have me questioning whether or not anyone pays attention to StatsCan's visible minority predictions for 2017. 9 years is not a long way off and we brown peeps are going to rule the GTA with an iron fist. So instead of using a term like "TROPICAL beverages" it's no surprise that Loblaws opts for the more ridiculous "ETHNIC" route.

Why can't juice just be effing juice?

Shutter Speed

Jebus. I'm too lazy to blog properly (surprise). I present you the last lightening speed month and three quarters through the eyes of that snazzy new camera phone which I acquired along with a haircut at Pacific Mall.


This is what Toronto looked like when I left. I had a week and a bit of do nothingness before I took off unexpectedly to Colombo for the funeral. The original plan had been three weeks of do nothingness interspersed with leisurely getting my shit together for the Big Trip to London. I used to take Oliver for a walk every day during that spell and this is what a typical day would start off looking like. Apparently Toronto's still sort of like this? Perhaps my parents are just big exaggeraters?


Thathi and I were walking through the Katunayake Airport on our way to pick up our luggage remarking how it sort of feels nice to be back in Sri Lanka despite the utterly unfortunate circumstances. Seriously, look at that snow covered horror above. Now look at those luscious bouganvilla flowers in my grandparents' garden. It was nice to get away from one of the worst winters on record. When Ammi and Punchy made it into Colombo the heat had already started, I managed to miss that completely. However there was a few insane downpours, nothing compared to last year when that bit of the Galle Road collapsed. But still. I do recall a very unpleasant trishaw ride with Mansage from the Cinnamon Grand to Agra which involved rolled up pant legs, leaping over puddles and rubber slippers (which were worn in mutiny).


While I'm not a huge cat person this is my homeboy. Kitty, for that is his most unfortunate name, and I used to have a mutual understanding. He was less than a year old when I came to Sri Lanka last year. In exchange for play fighting in the mornings before leaving for work he would let me cuddle him for a brief spell in the evenings when I'd actually make it home at a decent hour. Although he used to make an utter fuss, I know he liked it. His throat used to vibrate, with a normal cat this would be purring, but his autism prevents him from showing affection, and that's as close as he'd get. No noise at all. The morning that my grandfather passed away he bolted and hung out on top of the water tower for nearly 5 days. He still refuses to go into my grandparents' bedroom. I don't know what he did after I left but the little beastie used to curl up in a ball and either sleep with me on my bed or on the floor beside me.


The final purchase that I made before I left Colombo was an umbrella from Arpico (pictured above). You know one of those silver coated jobbies. I figured that going to London without one would be just plain retarded. Gayan and I sped over as fast as we could to Dehiwela the night before I left. I needed to be at the Commons for a birthday fête and final goodbye. It was sad, and rushed. Tears were shed sly words exchanged and then it was time to go. The night before Mansage and I had a very fitting and hilarious goodbye that began at the Coffee Bean meandered to Clancys and then a mad rush back to the Bean. He even kept the blubbing to a minimum. It was so not enough time to see everyone I wanted to and there were so many people that I didn't even get a chance to see let alone call. I've always believed that any trip to Sri Lanka has to be at least 4 weeks long otherwise it's an utter disappointing and rushed experience.


I am hardly ever late for anything. Usually I am ridiculously early. This is a trait that Alby and I have both exhibited since time immemorial. So when I landed in London from Colombo and came back to Thorn's place at about 11:00 PM we weren't really worried about me being able to make my 6:30 AM flight that next morning. Oh how wrong we were. I was flying Easy Jet from Stantsted and in a series of events befitting Murphy I managed to get to the gate just as it was closing despite having started my journey at 3:00 AM. It was one of the most stressful things evar. Spain was great though, Barcelona's such a gorgeous city. I've got way more pictures which will eventually be posted on flickr. Seeing Gaudi's work in the flesh was phenomenal. I found myself at Sagrada Família on Easter Sunday and it was so overwhelming. The religious significance aside, as a piece of art it just left me dumbfounded.

Generally I don't like buying lame souvenirs and what inadvertently started off as an innocent scarf purchase in Dakar has now become my "thing." I buy scarves from every place I visit, managed to get the two above for 2 Euros. Which I thought was pretty awesome and of course now I'm regretting not getting more.


Getting lost in a city is the best way to discover it. This is what I say because I legendarily lack a sense of direction. On this particular day I was waiting for the ex-workmate to finish off some shiz and meet up with me for a day of shopping. So I wondered around Leicester Square and found a section that sold antique books. It was like I had died and gone to bookheaven. If the exchange rate wasn't 2 CND to a Pound I could've easily walked away with the entire store.


Went and met Aunty C at St Pancras a few weeks ago. She came and spent the day with me from Leeds and couldn't have picked a better weekend. The photo does not do justice to how kickass that clock really was. The two of us had a great time just wondering around the city. I managed to get us spectacularly lost at one point when I took the map.



A carved rock outside the British Library. They had a whole bunch of them around the entrance.


I still can't get over how "British" everything looks.


Seriously, how cute is that? Mind you it would've been way better if my unsteady hands didn't go all parkinsons on me. There actually are red phone booths in and around certain parts of the city.


Okay, so it does rain here on and off but it doesn't bother me! Is there something wrong? Am I unknowingly prepping for life in Vancouver?


Camden has become one of my favourite parts of London. I spend too much time and too much money there.


I go to church in Brixton. How bad ass am I? Witnessed my first building fire. Must say I really was not impressed with the way the firefighters and cops handled things. But that's another post altogether.


Gigs! With Thorn! It feels like home. But not really. Live music always makes me feel like I'm at home, no matter what part of the world I'm in. The London indie scene is really good obviously. Different than the Toronto one for sure. I think the calibre of musicianship is much better here but the creativity is lacking. But that's just me. Also? British indie boys? zomg. ftw!


Some of the little sculptures and pieces of art that are found in and around London are just strange. This is very close to one of the first places I worked here. I mean look at it! It's looks like a giant hot dog ffs. Click on the photo to make it larger and see if you don't believe me.


I wish I had more money. Or conversely, I wish I was making some money. Did a bit of shopping today. Picked up some sweet Clarks for Aiya and decided to get a pair of shoes for myself as well. The dude at Footlocker was absolutely incredulous when I told him that my feet were a size 6 US. This is normally the case since I think I defy some sort of science laws. There is no way that someone of my size should be able to be held up by feet that are so tiny they look like they've been bound.

Plenty more things that need to be seen and explored. Of course I'll take 'actual' pictures with the Nikon eventually, I'm really digging the little Sony though. I usually don't die for electronic items, but I'm a fan of the camera. It's so convenient.