I had hoped to craft a long-ish post at some point today, but the day ended up getting away from me (a wonderful 90-minute nap will do that). I wanted to reflect on 2006, which I've recently dubbed the "year of transition," and speculate on 2007 (which has yet to be dubbed), as well outline some of my goals (distinct from resolutions) for the coming year. Unfortunately my heart just isn't into it right now! Perhaps tomorrow, when 2006 is over and I'll have some distance - I might feel a little more dispassionate about the whole year which will provide some proper perspective.
Adding to the "raw" emotions is that I'm spending New Year's Eve alone this year. It's not entirely my volition: I didn't end up getting one invite to go out! (Not entirely true, actually: I received an invite on Friday, but at the time it wouldn't have been appropriate for me to accept. Long story.) I was pretty bummed out about my lack of invites, particularly since I spent last year alone (a deliberate choice) and felt that I'd be much more in a "party" mood this year. Alas, the invitations were not forthcoming. But all is not lost: I'm going to make a nice dinner, I just poured myself some 12-year old single malt scotch and I have a some expensive Bordeaux decanting. I'll throw on a couple of "comfort" films, maybe blast some tunes (out of my new speakers, which was my xmas gift to myself), write in my journal, and enjoy an evening of contemplation.
To all my regular readers, thank you for sticking with me through these last couple of months. I hope you have a wonderful new year's eve and a peaceful and prosperous 2007. And if I haven't bored the pants off you, please continue to visit me here! I have high hopes for the coming year: I'm entering into it with much optimism and a positive spirit.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Sunday, December 24, 2006
'twas the night before christmas
Just a quick note to all my readers (all four of you, or thereabouts) to wish you a wonderful and happy Christmas. Take the time to reflect on the things that mean most to you - whether that's family or friends or peace of mind - and be grateful for the wonders of this world. Peace to all.
Friday, December 22, 2006
The Big O
Just a quick note to remind all my readers that today is Global Orgasm Day! If you have a partner, share this day with them. Don't let not having a partner stop you from enjoying the day and doing your bit for world peace: you don't need me to spell out what you should be doing.
Happy Winter Solstice to you all.
Happy Winter Solstice to you all.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Smoked meat, part 3
Unlike my previous two smoked meat posts, this one is actually about smoked meat. Or, more precisely, the absence of it: I heard on the radio this morning that Ben's Deli, the venerable restaurant on de Maisonneuve Blvd. in Montreal, has closed its doors for good. I actually had to stop what I was doing (the dishes, although I can usually find any excuse not to do the dishes) and even said to myself (since the cat wasn't in the kitchen at the time), "Wow."
Sure, some will argue that Ben's was not exactly good eats: for one, it was ridiculously unhealthy. Others will argue that the best smoked meat in Montreal is actually served uptown at Schwartz's (and it's not a point of view I would necessarily disagree with). Still, I have a soft spot for Ben's, not just for its Montreal history (Leonard Cohen was a regular, and luminaries such as Trudeau ate there) but for my own personal history: after all, Ben's was the first downtown restaurant I ate at.
When I was growing up in the West Island of Montreal, I used to go to about three or four Montreal Canadiens hockey games a year, owing to the fact that my dad's employer had season tickets. Going downtown with my father to take in a game was always a treat - in fact, some of my fondest memories of my childhood were those evenings I spent with him at the Forum. My dad wasn't much of a hockey fan, but I was a fanatic, particularly of the Habs (Guy Lafleur was my hero). So when my dad managed to procure tickets, we'd make a full night of it, which usually meant beginning the evening at Ben's to enjoy a succulent smoked meat sandwich (with a side of fries, of course). Even as a pre-teen, I was taken with quaintness of the experience: the brightness of the space, the elderly and stoic waiters with their bow ties, the meat itself spilling out of the rye bread. I loved it!
Our family moved away from Montreal back in the 1980s, but almost every time I went back, a visit to Ben's (and usually Mike's Submarine, also a staple dining experience from my youth) was de rigeur. And it's amazing how little the place changed - it was almost exactly as I remembered it (although I'd usually order a Molson 50 instead of a coke). I haven't been to Montreal for a couple of years, but the next trip (and I have been thinking about going next year for the jazz fest; for one, my fave jazz musician, Keith Jarrett, is scheduled to play with his trio) will just not seem the same without steady Ben's.
Another part of my youth, dismantling.
Sure, some will argue that Ben's was not exactly good eats: for one, it was ridiculously unhealthy. Others will argue that the best smoked meat in Montreal is actually served uptown at Schwartz's (and it's not a point of view I would necessarily disagree with). Still, I have a soft spot for Ben's, not just for its Montreal history (Leonard Cohen was a regular, and luminaries such as Trudeau ate there) but for my own personal history: after all, Ben's was the first downtown restaurant I ate at.
When I was growing up in the West Island of Montreal, I used to go to about three or four Montreal Canadiens hockey games a year, owing to the fact that my dad's employer had season tickets. Going downtown with my father to take in a game was always a treat - in fact, some of my fondest memories of my childhood were those evenings I spent with him at the Forum. My dad wasn't much of a hockey fan, but I was a fanatic, particularly of the Habs (Guy Lafleur was my hero). So when my dad managed to procure tickets, we'd make a full night of it, which usually meant beginning the evening at Ben's to enjoy a succulent smoked meat sandwich (with a side of fries, of course). Even as a pre-teen, I was taken with quaintness of the experience: the brightness of the space, the elderly and stoic waiters with their bow ties, the meat itself spilling out of the rye bread. I loved it!
Our family moved away from Montreal back in the 1980s, but almost every time I went back, a visit to Ben's (and usually Mike's Submarine, also a staple dining experience from my youth) was de rigeur. And it's amazing how little the place changed - it was almost exactly as I remembered it (although I'd usually order a Molson 50 instead of a coke). I haven't been to Montreal for a couple of years, but the next trip (and I have been thinking about going next year for the jazz fest; for one, my fave jazz musician, Keith Jarrett, is scheduled to play with his trio) will just not seem the same without steady Ben's.
Another part of my youth, dismantling.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Strange days
Talk about a strange stretch of about two hours today. I had several destinations planned when I set out at around 1:00 this afternoon: the library (to pick up a couple of books awaiting for me), the bank machine (seems like I'm going through a lot of coin so far this holiday season, even though I only have a few people to actually purchase gifts for), the new BMV book store (I thought I might be able to find something for my parents there, but my heart - surprisingly, perhaps - wasn't in to book browsing; at some point I'm going to write about that chain of book stores and its threat to the true independent book shop, but today is not the day), to Trinity-St. Paul's Church (for the Last-Minute Craft Fair where my friend j-love was selling her soap), and then finally to Indigo to buy a gift for my nephew (I normally eschew Indigo, but I was told that this is one of the few stores in the downtown core where I could buy the particular gift that he wants and was requested by his mother to buy).
The library visit was fine, but then the strangeness took hold as I was walking along Bloor St. toward BMV. I didn't have a chance to react because she was past me before I knew it, but a woman I went on a few dates this past summer strolled right past me. I mention this only because this is the first I've seen her since the summer: she basically disappeared from my life, without warning and explanation. (She could have at least sent me a quick e-mail saying "I've left the building.") I figured I'd run into her at some point - this city is not that big, and we have a number of friends and acquaintances in common - but I wasn't expecting to see her on Bloor. I sort-of regret not turning around, catching up with her and saying hi, but perhaps it's for the best. (She was also with a friend and I thought that might add to the awkwardness - not hers but mine!) Still, I harbour no ill feelings toward her. I really just miss having her a part of my life, however small. She was a wonderfully interesting woman.
There was more weirdness to come at the craft fair. There was a woman hawking her handmade magnets who looked ridiculously familiar. I finally figured out who she was: someone who I had a raving crush on in high school. I actually used to see her fairly often when I lived in a different neighbourhood, but haven't seen her for at least 10 years. Even crazier, I actually brought her name up this week at work! It's the first time I've thought of her in years, and next thing you know, there she is! Small world indeed.
But wait, there's even more. As I was buying some greeting cards adorned with these interesting lino-cuts - I figured I could send them out as letters since I'm back in a letter-writing phase - the woman who created the cards said to me, "You're J., aren't you?" The crazy thing is, I had no idea who the hell she was! I think I figured it out (and I could be wrong): she's someone I communicated with months ago when I was originally trying the online dating thing. I don't remember how far it went - we never met, obviously, and probably only exchanged a few e-mails (one of which I must have included a photo). And truthfully I could have the story wrong. Perhaps she was confusing me with another J.
Two more sightings to report: Andrew Coyne from the National Post (looking rather befuddled), and then, perhaps the oddest of all, Michael Ignatieff in line (in a huge line, I should add) at Indigo.
Then I came home and caught the end of the movie You've Got Mail, which (and maybe this is really the oddest of all) I have a surprising soft spot for.
The library visit was fine, but then the strangeness took hold as I was walking along Bloor St. toward BMV. I didn't have a chance to react because she was past me before I knew it, but a woman I went on a few dates this past summer strolled right past me. I mention this only because this is the first I've seen her since the summer: she basically disappeared from my life, without warning and explanation. (She could have at least sent me a quick e-mail saying "I've left the building.") I figured I'd run into her at some point - this city is not that big, and we have a number of friends and acquaintances in common - but I wasn't expecting to see her on Bloor. I sort-of regret not turning around, catching up with her and saying hi, but perhaps it's for the best. (She was also with a friend and I thought that might add to the awkwardness - not hers but mine!) Still, I harbour no ill feelings toward her. I really just miss having her a part of my life, however small. She was a wonderfully interesting woman.
There was more weirdness to come at the craft fair. There was a woman hawking her handmade magnets who looked ridiculously familiar. I finally figured out who she was: someone who I had a raving crush on in high school. I actually used to see her fairly often when I lived in a different neighbourhood, but haven't seen her for at least 10 years. Even crazier, I actually brought her name up this week at work! It's the first time I've thought of her in years, and next thing you know, there she is! Small world indeed.
But wait, there's even more. As I was buying some greeting cards adorned with these interesting lino-cuts - I figured I could send them out as letters since I'm back in a letter-writing phase - the woman who created the cards said to me, "You're J., aren't you?" The crazy thing is, I had no idea who the hell she was! I think I figured it out (and I could be wrong): she's someone I communicated with months ago when I was originally trying the online dating thing. I don't remember how far it went - we never met, obviously, and probably only exchanged a few e-mails (one of which I must have included a photo). And truthfully I could have the story wrong. Perhaps she was confusing me with another J.
Two more sightings to report: Andrew Coyne from the National Post (looking rather befuddled), and then, perhaps the oddest of all, Michael Ignatieff in line (in a huge line, I should add) at Indigo.
Then I came home and caught the end of the movie You've Got Mail, which (and maybe this is really the oddest of all) I have a surprising soft spot for.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Closure
After last evening, I feel like I'm getting closer to it. I don't want to write about all the reasons why, but my spirits are a little higher this morning as a result. And (gasp!) I feel like I might actually get into the holiday spirit this year! I even wrote up some xmas cards last night.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
"To Do" List
A list of things I'd like to accomplish this weekend:
- Conquer my fears, embrace my desires
- buy a new pair of shoes, preferably Dr. Martens to replace my aging pair
- continue to get in touch with my poetic soul
- visit a friend's new house
- explore the whimsical
- buy milk, bread, kitty litter and other necessities
- stay warm
- burn some CDs for a couple of my U.S. friends to send as xmas gifts
- daydream
- buy new acoustic guitar strings
- revel in the dark, rebel in the light
- apologize and submit to love
- Conquer my fears, embrace my desires
- buy a new pair of shoes, preferably Dr. Martens to replace my aging pair
- continue to get in touch with my poetic soul
- visit a friend's new house
- explore the whimsical
- buy milk, bread, kitty litter and other necessities
- stay warm
- burn some CDs for a couple of my U.S. friends to send as xmas gifts
- daydream
- buy new acoustic guitar strings
- revel in the dark, rebel in the light
- apologize and submit to love
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