oh hey rachel mcadams!

i have the pop culture intelligence of: zero. the only reason why i know that glee has been nominated for the emmy and that insane clown posse exists, is thanks to a revolving circle of well-meaning friends.

i have nothing against television series, soap operas, tinsletown gossip, and others. it’s just that i find it so cumbersome to keep up with episodes. remain loyal while a series is in production. remember the names of celebrity offsprings and follow the banalities that break news everyday.

but there are few that i love religiously. and rachel mcadams is one of them. first spotted at a restaurant on harbord and during a summer i lived on her street, i caught glimpses of this canadian actress a few times. and even aside from her environmental involvement, a vogue interview i read of her some time ago further confirms my belief that, were i a 50 year old yiddish man, i would have billed mcadams a mensch.

in the interview, she talks about how having a house that is always falling apart seemed so romantic, but that “now it seems less so.” and now she does not really desire things, but prefer to spend $$$$$$$ “on experiences, on meals or travel,” which would probably be my answer, were i to be interviewed by vogue magazine.

and she gives off the general ambiance of being, “with it” for a lack of a better word. which is more than i can say for any other actresses that grace the pages of gossip columns and gloss fold outs.

the most expensive 72 hours in canadian history

take me to the ballet

went to go see onegin at the national ballet yesterday. ballet is one of those things that is so unfailingly pleasant, and every time i go, i promise myself that i will attend more shows, before letting the the varied accoutrements of life get in the way.

so onegin more or less broke my heart. no need to bore anyone with plot summaries, but you can guess: yes, it tells the classic tale of star-crossed lover (surprise). but really, these familiar themes of innocence lost and societal expectations and conventions, never fails to stir hearts.

speaking of hearts, the story is set in a time when people still bore souls in love letters (pushkin, tchaikovsky) – and it is always so fascinating to see complex emotions played out on stage without much – just a whole lot of body wizardry and beautiful, stunning choreography.

(spoiler alert)

and woody allen was right. only unrequited love can be romantic. the last act, where onegin reunites with tatiana, where he expresses his undying love for her, and where she rebukes his advances; here, all of the tug of war of human condition is played out in full stanza, and even a flicker, a twirl, and a pause, seem to be charged with so much regret, desire, yearning, and whatever else that may come to mind.

yum. during intermission, we spotted awkward couples on dates, life-long lovers on dates, and father-daughters on dates. when will more boys realize that ballet dates are totally wholesome and wildly welcomed?

(photo is celia franca, founder of the national ballet of canada)

hoof! sanagan’s! caplansky’s!

true say. toronto is in the throes of serious love making with all things meat-y.

also doesn’t help that all three places profiled here by nytimes are within a short walking distance from my doorstep. troubling.

but this is the thing. hoof serves up delicious spreads of, yes, meat-based dishes that many vegetarians might cast stern frowns at. but they are presented oh, so, delectably, and they make it abundantly clear that much creativity and care has gone into preparing the dish. and sanagan’s! where do i start? they are wonderful. no, really. everything from the neighbourhood-shoppe decor, to the friendly butchers who will take your inane questions and run with it, to the locally sourced meat they take great pride in serving up, it’s quite lovely. and caplansky’s just hits at my love of knish and kishka.

i am a late comer to this meat-y reverie. i did not eat meat for a long time growing up, and to this day, i am not an aficionado by any measure. in my paradigm of a world more caring and wholesome, no animal would be slaughtered. that being said, i also do not think there is anything wrong with eating meat as long as it is done consciously and deliberately.

well anyways. perhaps meat eating will go the way of homophobia – an outdated convention that seems so crass and ill-informed in hindsight. but until that day comes, sanagan’s will still be my best friend.

robin hood, snoop dogg, and richard kern

today was a beautiful day. despite the rain, despite the bitter cold, despite the feeling of being wronged to be craving scarves and mittens and coats on a fine day in may, it was lovely nonetheless. perhaps it was the fiddleheads i had for lunch. perhaps it was the junot diaz that kept me company. perhaps none of the above.

what’s more, i got to visit the beloved 401 richmond after work. it had been too long! and walking into that beautiful exposed-brick, hardwood floor, child care playground in the quad, lush foliage covering the walls, building, i had seem to have momentarily forgotten how much affection i hold for that place. it pretty much sums up all that i want in life. the closest thing i have seen to my dream house has so far been the nooks and crannies of 401, and the loft that amanda peet keeps as her studio in that movie about delinquents in new york which i love so much (can’t seem to remember the title though. let’s go ahead and blame it on the oatmeal stout from the bar).

the all-is-well-in-the-world only crescendoed as i caught up with a good friend, learning about her new obsessions (holograms! music and physics and waves! and many more!) and sharing some of mine.

but then. the unbearable. every morning at work, we receive an email with the top searches on google, meant to direct the news coverage for the remainder of the day – it serves as a barometre for what people are up to. when i checked it this morning, the words “robin hood” topped the list. and in my over-zealous, just-out-of-college-we-are-all-hyper-liberal-progressive-policy-advocates-right mindset, i had auto-assumed that it could only mean one thing: the robin hood tax.

and then sifting through a pile of newspapers, seeing russell crowe prominently featured on the front fold, it occurred to me: no, people are most certainly not interested in reading about some left-wing progressive tax campaign. they never have and they never will. what they are more interested in, instead, is a $$$ block bustre featuring that ever-buff australian actor.

some how this aha moment made me incredibly sad. not sure why, but for now, it’s time for some ditch efforts at writing, and off to bed.

a completely unrelated thought: on my walk over from the red light/garrison, i came across an addidas advert featuring david beckham and snoop dogg. this triggered two unrelated thoughts. it reminded me of the time i complemented sporty spice on her mulberry bag (before it became big) not knowing that it was her, and how she is – as we all know – a member of spice girls together with victoria beckham who is david beckhams other. and then i remembered that other occasion when i waited what seemed like light year in newspaper time at le phoenician for snoop dogg to arrive for his – what amounted to a pointless – press conference and how i went to the show later that evening as a VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVIP (oh, middle east) and how that review ran the same day as my article on the local soup kitchen and their valiant effort and bettering lives of the marginalized and how i remember thinking it was odd and sad all at once. and the girl whose house nat and i went to pick up niel from had been photographed by richard kern. whiskey tango foxtrot! i was JUST talking/thinking/wondering about him earlier last week! he had been in toronto to speak! i had almost went had it not been for too much bourbon and not enough word count! and i enjoy his photographs because they are raw and honest and naked and not pretty most of the time. and all these pixels of memories come together to remind me that the world is a small place where all that we are are derivatives of each another.