Saturday, August 30, 2008

Update!

Hurrah!

It has been confirmed to me that the subject of Monday's post is, indeed, not interested in making babies with me (or any of my sisters), unless it were in some sort of surrogate fashion.

One of my aforementioned gay boyfriends has seen him out at clubs.



BUT: after discussing my quandry [could I put a gay man on my husband list, or is it disrespectful], my gay bf du jour assures me that it's kosher because my list is a fantasy list with men who have qualities that I someday hope to find in a partner. It's fairly clear that I don't actually plan to marry these men, as if Ryan Reynolds would whisk me away if I met him.

Also, a good lesbian friend told me that her wife list is made up of a lot of straight women, and we can't control the orientation of those we have crushes on.

After sorting out this whole dilemma, I know for sure: I don't know any straight people.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Hands Up: Who's The Creepy Stalker?

Anyone who really knows me knows the answer to that one.

Last night, I was blithely riding the College streetcar when Ryan Ward, who played Ash in Evil Dead, the Musical, got on at Spadina.

I quickly took off my ipod, in case he wanted to talk to me and date me forever, etc., and I creepy-like watched what stop he got off at.

Today, in my unemployed state, I decided to take a walk to that area to see if I could spot him again.

Not creepy.

No.

Anyhow, oddly, I ran into another man I didn't expect to: Jeremy, my old roommate! Holy cow! I hadn't seen him in quite some time (like years and months), and we had a quick catch-up. Like old times, said we, as we nursed our violently fived hands. (We had a once-in-a-lifetime high-five chemistry.)

Monday, August 25, 2008

Like I Need Another Gay Boyfriend...

This last weekend, I started a whirlwind summer fling.

Now, before your toes start curling, I'm pretty sure my new flame is a flamer, so don't get too excited.

I started watching "The After Show" on MTV Canada.

The "After" part refers to the fact that it follows the show "The Hills," which, as far as I can tell, is a terrible, terrible, show. It's about bikini-clad, forever made-up, Hollywood Hills 20-somethings who discuss the states of their friendships and who's feuding with whom. It is also the kind of show that can easily suck in the unwary, so I have vowed to never watch it.

Happily, "The After Show" only minimally discusses "The Hills" in each show, and then moves on to other pop culture fare. I had sworn off most pop culture as saccharine BS, but the two hosts of "The After Show" are so charming, funny, and honest, it's difficult not to be entertained.

For a long time, I regarded the new-to-the-Canadian-scene MTV with scorn, since its long-established American counterpart is less music and more trash TV. Also, out of loyalty to Much Music, I didn't give much thought to MTV. Now, however, since Much has slipped at an alarming pace into endless reruns of cheap pseudo-celebrity "reality" drivel programming like "Girlicious," and their VJs make me want to pull out my hair, my loyalty is shot.

"The After Show" has caught my attention, and, with it, a new potential member of the Husband List? My problem is, never before have I included a husband on my illustrious list that is so camp. No - he's not camp. He's playful but understated; informed and not boorish. I'm talking about Dan Levy.


Dan is the bespectacled young man whose soft-spoken wit and hipster-geek styling has caught my attention. But: I think I'm slightly broken. Two of my closest friends are gay, and that may be prejudicing me. My gaydar is not good, but there are too many clues to make me think my Dear Dan is gay.

Since my gaydar is so bad and I've been surprised so many times, I think I'm overcompensating by immediately assuming all the men in my life are gay. Still, even I, with my broken detection equipment, am tipped off to Levy's "qualities." (Watch and decide for yourself.)

It would be funny if this is the only time a lovely, winning, intelligent, joyous man who I think is gay is not. (Not that this is an issue. We wouldn't be "an item" if he were straight.)

Anyhow, as is my rule, until I hear it from him, I'm going to assume he's straight.

[Sub-topic: could I put an openly gay man on my husband list? Is that offensive? (I think so - it disregards his sexuality, which is unfair.) I take the list seriously, as you might know, and I think it would trivialize it if I didn't consider sexual compatibility. Still: NPH?]

Well, "The After Show" is going from a weekly show to daily (Monday through Thursdays) today, which is fantastic. More Dan time in my down time. And another potential Canuck member of my HL!

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Summer Lovin'.

Warning: I am about to get very juvenile. I have resigned myself to the fact that there is no dignity involved in my reaction to Adam Levine, so I'm going to run with it.

My housemate L had to talk me going to an outdoor concert last night. I didn't want to go (despite the stellar Sara Bareilles/Counting Crows/Maroon 5 triple bill) because I was bitter about Ticketmaster being a world of douche. Our $28 tickets came to $42 after all the bullshit charges. What are they, fucking Air Canada? What the fuck surcharges are they levying? Am I underestimating how much cocaine the CEOs at Ticketmaster can hoover?

It was very autumnal yesterday, but warm. I wore a thin scoop-neck tee and cotton pants (sailor front - me likey). I met L, who is working at the Exhibition in a beaver mascot costume (don't worry; we haven't missed out on the sweaty beaver comments), and we walked in every direction but the right one to find the Molson Amphitheatre. It seemed that every employee at the Ex had his/her head permanently performing a self-colonoscopy, so it was almost by chance that we found the place at all.

We had lawn tickets, which I was kinda ok with before I looked down to see a tiny speck of Sara Bareilles performing (early, for some reason...). My camera has digital zoom, so I got some pictures that turned out pretty ok, when people weren't walking in front of us, or when the rednecks behind us weren't drunkenly using the back of my chair to hoist themselves up from their blanket.

Sara Bareilles was very good. She was at the piano, and her voice is clear and strong. I recognised some of her songs, but I'm at a bit of a disadvantage since I don't listen to a lot of commercial radio. L is a big fan, so that she started early and we missed some of her set was a disappointment. (Who ever starts early?) She ended her set with the Beatles' "Oh! Darling" It was fine, but I've got problems listening to covers of the Beatles. If it ain't broke, you know?

The Counting Crows were up next. They are only peripherally on my radar, and I didn't really take them seriously. They were, however, fantastic. If I ever have a chance to see them again, I will jump at it. The lead singer (Adam Duritz) was animated and seemed to be exuding joy, which is infectious and inspiring.

I thought he looked like a bearded, dreadlocked, more casual version of Robert Downey, Jr., or, a slimmer version of Kevin Smith (w/ dreads). He also gave a nice speech at the end encouraging people to volunteer locally if the problems of the world seem too big to tackle.

They sang lots of songs I knew, and more I didn't know but would like to be more familiar with. They didn't sing "Accidentally in Love," which is one of my favourite songs to play with Duke.


By now, the sun was dipping down. The sunset lit up the CN Tower to the east, and BMO Field where the Toronto FC plays was all empty and in shadow to the west. I was comfortable until the sun went down, and then then the goosebumps set in. L complained a lot about how cold she was, as is her way. She's adorable. I had the scarf I wrap around Duke, so I warmed up with that.


Then Maroon 5 came out.

Then I soiled myself.

Suddenly sympathetic with those teenagers during Beatlemania, I sat, mesmerized and spontaneously ovulating.

I do not like using the word "hot" to describe a man. I don't think it's very dignified, illustrative, or specific, and it's too subjective.

BUT: there is nothing else for it.

Adam Levine is hot.

Smoking hot.

Ragingly hot.

Besides that, Maroon 5 is excellent live. Levine's vocals are spot on, and I am officially going to crown him king of modern falsetto.

I was trying to document the show, so I had one eye on the viewfinder, and one eye on the stage. (This, by the way, was effective on two fronts: I could see the wide view of the stage and what I was taking pictures of, thereby sending my brain not one, but two images of Adam Levine.)

They sang every song I wanted to hear but "I Won't Go Home Without You." They chose from both albums, and added in Chris Isaac's (the deposed king of falsetto) "Wicked Game," which I was underwhelmed by. My favourite, was "Sunday Morning," which sounds so unbelievably good on Duke, it has worked its way up my list of all-time favourite songs.

One complaint: Adam Levine wore a plain white tee, which made him visible to the naked eye, but made my camera overexpose him in a halo of glare in most of my pictures. Plus, it didn't cover his tattoos, whch are expanding and of which I am not a fan (therefore, please: in the future, stick with the slim-cut suits!).

The upshot is, I'm pregnant.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Toothsome Journeys.

I'm back in Toronto, and back to sitting in front of the computer for some time each day, so you should expect some better updating.

Here is a quick outline of the goodness I ate and didn't eat in the last two months.


I could eat these two up!

I ATE:
-beautiful fresh cod in Glovertown (top of the list because it was the freshest, most perfectly done cod I'd ever had)
-lassy (molasses) buns in Glovertown
-fish and brewis in Glovertown (yes, with scruncheons!)
-pan-fried cod tongues in Glovertown
-caplin in Glovertown
-prosciutto and melon in Riva Del Garda
-Limoncello in London (!)
-Katjes Kinder in Germany (Mit Calcium + Eisen!)
-self-picked blueberries and raspberries in Glovertown
-my mother's home cooking/baking, including her bread, in Stratford
-Family-style 4-pasta dish in New York City
-Burrito and pitcher of margaritas in New York City
-my first gelato in Venice (and my second, about an hour later)
-a cornish pasty at a market in London
-Wedgies in Glovertown (seasoned potato wedges, regionally called wedgies)
-The Gahan House's nachoes in Charlottetown
-Atlantic Smoked Salmon in Stratford
-Multiple Double Deckers in London
-self-harvested chanterelle mushrooms, which we cooked in a rice pilaf
-chocolate in Switzerland (and Toronto, and Stratford, after I brought home 400kgs)
-Jaegerschniztel in Nurenburg
-street pretzels in Cologne
-Beer, beer, beer, in all of the above

I DIDN'T EAT (not much! zing!):
-Lobster
-Mussels
-Frosty Treat, Frosty Treat; Place so nice you say it twice
-Dulse
-Ashley's trail mix
-Rosey's mother's crack cake