Art of war; fencing

I feel an allusion to Confucius' Art of War would be appropriate <here> but I lack the proper reference (feel free to insert said quote between the <>).  I like this one though which comes pretty close: He who exercises government by means of his virtue may be compared to the north polar star, which keeps its place and all the stars turn towards it.

Fencing is sexy

Until today, I've never gone fencing but I found the overall experience, however reminiscent of my ever evolving eye-hand-leg coordination deficiency, was very rewarding. I can't recall another sport in which you are immediately cognisant of your opponents attacks/defences and introspective of your own strengths and weaknesses. Its a strategy game as much as it is about strength (ahem for me it's poor upper body strength and balance and...).

One thing that the Instructor said that really stuck is the fact that, in fencing, you can immediately begin to tell the personality of the person you are fencing against; whether they are emotional, bow to pressure easily, over-zealous etc.  With this knowledge I could deflect my opponents attacks without having to huff and puff all over the place - as we inevitably did when my partner hopped from one 'vulnerable' angle to the other (mind you your allowed only to parry in a straight line...no 'fencing' dance)

To be an adequately good beginner fencer requires very little physical effort.  A body that is relaxed and flexible is more amenable to fencing.  Sure there are lungs and all that bending but the main idea is deflecting and anticipating your opponents next moves which leads to attack. To borrow an analogy from the Tao of Pooh: a body of water will deflect a ball bounced against its surface; no matter how hard you attack the ball it will never pierce the water's surface.  Strength is good but knowing when to use it makes you a better player.

To the tao of fencing :P and it can be all mine for $95 a month.

Who are we really fooling?

Picture fail: photo attempt no. 1092377

Cooler than thou

Before I continue with yesterday’s commentary on virtual identity, I’d like to first clarify some terminology I had used (Thanks Jess for your suggestions!)

First, I mentioned in the last paragraph that: ‘’It is in my opinion that this social malaise is attributable to…de-sensitized self identity.’’ I admit, on occasion, I am prone to self-grandiosity when it comes to wordiness (maybe the residuals from an overly ambitious Social Science post-secondary education) so I’ve tagged the word ‘self’ in front of the word ‘identity’.  What I wanted to reference was the identity of self.  Our self-worth has been demoted to a popularity contest akin to the amount of face-time and friends we get online.  The phenomenon is widely recognised and even merits the occasional joke; in one particular scene in ‘’Due Date’’, Annoying Guy (so called because I can’t remember his name) proudly proclaims that he has 90 friends on facebook and in his words, ‘’12 of them are pending, but I got 90 friends on facebook.’’

FYI I'm hotter than you

However, the seemingly innocuous ‘’anonymity’’ veil provided via the Internet, either via web forums or video sharing platforms that do not immediately reveal user identity, provides a platform for users to abuse targets safely without retaliation.  But how far has our morals fallen when we can easily gripe about a certain TV personalities cellulite on the web when we are not immune either to the same problem.  With the sheath of our brightly light computer screens, remorse and accountability for actions perpetrated online is detached from our ‘real-world’ selves.  It is easier to attack a virtual target than a real person.  It is probably comparable to one attacking an avatar whilst believing that the real person is remains unharmed. New forms of harassment, such as cyber-bullying, have found its niche in such form.

Secondly, that by ‘’ by scattering ourselves virtually, we are spreading ourselves and our identity too thinly in order to seek approval from many and in the process forgetting what makes us us’’. In the storm that is Facebook and Twitter updates (good for you if your ‘’eating your favourite dish with mum’’?), the immeasurable ‘’fun’’ that is our life is validated only as soon as it is updated as a fb or twitter status.  With this social online profile, a certain archetype of cool online aesthetics – imagine a certain aloofness that speaks ‘’take my picture or whatever’’ attitude – demonstrates our ultimate hip status.  Indeed such forays into developing a public persona invariably stroke our desire for aesthetics not only for oneself but also towards others.  Ultimately, the pictures frame how we are perceived by our peers – hopefully of the happy and fun-loving kind.  If you’ve ever noticed, this prompts a certain generic formula. Just Google it.  If you can Google it than its generic enough that it can be applied formulaically.

It is permissible, of course, that one would not want to post a bad picture of themselves (or as I say, when you have a ‘’bad face day’’) but the compulsion to look a certain way to fit in with our online peers has seemingly trumped our own individual personality. Who are we really fooling?


And on the tails of my supposition comes the recent conviction of a burglar who decided it was a bright idea to self-incriminate himself by posting pics of himself on his victim's facebook. Good job Einstein. You earned bragging rights for your smooth thievery ways.

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Laughing all the way to the bank (genetically blessed bank that is)

This is worth a laugh and a half. Poor 'ugly' saps just when they thought that their lives couldn't get any worse this happens. The latest article in the Intelligence claims that one thing us average people have leveraged our existence on - our seeming intellectual superiority over pretty people (really but who uses ''hyperbolically happy'' in a sentence?).  It should stand that the conclusions of the study are drawn from the fact traits like intelligence and physical attractiveness are considered highly heritable.

The study indicated attractive men have IQs that are 13.6 points above the average, while beautiful women are 11.4 points higher than average.

To all the pretty people out there: we want you

Since intelligent men are more inclined to achieve more success, they are "more likely to marry beautiful women," Kanazawa said. "Given that both intelligence and physical attractiveness are highly heritable, there should be a positive correlation between intelligence and physical attractiveness in the children's generation."

So I guess if you have a mom like this; and a dad like this; you could get a kid like this.  The fate of the world is yet again sealed in the hands of the (naturally) pretty people - take heart those of you artificially enhanced. I personally subscribe to a more pragmatic approach whereby such traits are begot through better economic and social opportunities.  But if all MDs are as hot (and for each other) and smart as they are in Grey's Anatomy then maybe Kanazawa was onto something.

Can't everyone just get along

Bless you winter.

I've stopped springing out of bed early in the morning to catch the first rays of light. My usual spirited stride down the sidewalk has been replaced now with something that resembles more of a boardwalk shuffle.  I've even found myself putting off  rigorous activity. Yes. Walking to the TV and having to turn it on does count as physically straining. Yet all these are not atypical of the winter blahs.  Living in a city makes it harder to appreciate the white stuff. Salt, dirt, slush, and whatever ill-gotten creation is made when all 3 are combined with snow does not make it any more fun. Nor are the rude individuals who seem to make their prerogative in lifeto spread their unique quality of uncheer.

To use Rodney King's quote in a more colloquial fashion; ''why can't everyone just get along.'' Or maybe people are just angry ALL the time?  Certainly, we all have our inner demon but what qualifies us to dole out our frustration upon random strangers? Maybe its being at the wrong place at the wrong time. But maybe where you live is what makes is making you angry.  I had no knowledge, prior to reading this article from the Sunday Times, that ''queue rage'' existed - well certainly puts a name to what I went through while in queue to pay for groceries. FYI, I was on the receiving end (poo poo to those who could ever think I'd ever be mean to someone - well except for the people who take up copious space in the swimming pool, my former room mate, people who demonstrate general disregard for their job and to the people they service, and arrogant people):

When egos run high

We appear to be living in an age of rage. Earlier this week there seems to have been an incidence of “queue rage” in a supermarket during which a man was punched - and later died. The death raises the whole issue of apparently random acts of violence that are often the product of momentary losses of self-control.
...
Experts have said that in decades such as the 1960s and 1970s people tended to turn their frustration inwards, perhaps taking their anger out on their spouses behind closed doors. The tendency now is to turn it outwards: to externalise the problem to a complete stranger.


Indeed, in an age of indiscriminate self-valorisation, entitlement and conspicuous materialism, we all seem to be jonesing for some illusionary lifestyle.  It is in my opinion that this social malaise is attributable to the degradation of traditional social networks that scattered and de-sensitized self identity.  The wholesale digitisation of our daily routine has legitimized a whole industry based the need to hawk our presence over the internet; the number of ''hits'' generating indirect ''approval ratings''.  But more disturbing is the surfeit rise of videos and pictures, of a violent nature, willingly posted via the web jockeying for approval and personal conquest.  It was not too long ago when such acts were deemed inappropriate and yet now they are broadcast in popular television shows.  I admit that such shows have also achieved a level of audience awareness that may not have been achieved using other channels of communication.  In general, however, by scattering ourselves virtually, we are spreading ourselves and our identity too thinly in order to seek approval from many and in the process forgetting what makes us us.
...(to be continued)

Love is in the air (or in the wine): Verona

Foreboding clouds over Verona 

Valentine's Day is upon us. Hurrah, another holiday to encourage another sugar binge (maybe they just melt all the Halloween leftovers into tiny little hearts). So Happy Valentines Day everyone.  This got me to thinking about Verona IT - where a story based on two lovers took place. I am referring ofcourse to THE Verona in THE Romeo and Juliet. And for all its worth, Verona is a beautifully sad city - city partly because it was rainy the entire time I was there (giving everything a grey-ish tinge) and someone stole my umbrella. No I haven't gotten over that. Who steals an umbrella. That's Made in China.

Marbled street. Try walking on that during the rain.

I left Padua for Verona by train which isn't so far away via the cheaper Regionale trains (website is all Italian). I stayed in central Verona and so enjoyed the luxuries that the small vendor streets, cafes, and high-end boutiques had to offer. There is Juliet's Balcony. No its nothing like in Letters to Juliet. I cannot think of a time when the entrance to Juliet's is ever not clogged with tourists. The walls on the tunnel that leads into the courtyard is also full of messages from lovers. Enter the courtyard and its a floating mass of people eager to touch Juliet's boobs - and yes I DID and both but I forgot what luck its supposed to bring you. But like everything else Italian I wouldn't expect the luck to pass for atleast a few more weeks after.  There is also Romeo's 'residence' which was thankfully less frequented.

Locks of love awwww....

The markets are wonderful public spaces for wandering, gawking, shopping and just general loitering.  Thanks to my host, I enjoyed a nice aperatif made of Aperol, wine, and sparkling water to help me cool down on one of the more unusually warm days (I tried reproducing the same once but I've since learned to leave that to the professionals).  This is not to be mistaken with APERATIVO which is like the Italian equivalent of Happy Hour except with finger foods already included. This will generally be in the late afternoon to evening hours at a bar and patrons will pay a bit more for their alcoholic beverage whilst the finger foods are included in a buffet style display along the front of the bar.  I have eaten my share of bit sized cheese pizzas and more during such happy occasions.

Verona from above the castle

How Italians can manage to cross those all marble sidewalks and piazzas on their lovely leather loafers or stiletto heels is beyond me.  I managed well enough in my not so lovely and beaten down leather (-ish?) walking shoes.  Its a whole new ball game when the marble is wet with rain. Instead of running away into subterranean sewers, the water just pools up in small indentations in the marble sidewalk (although I think the idea is for the water to drain to the middle of the sidewalk and eventually follow the slope of the path away from the city centre).  I had much time to ponder this under a big yawning infront of Sephora (I had just recently lost my umbrella) waiting with a bunch of other rather loud HK tourists - lucky for the rain which dissipated some of the noise off the marble otherwise I'm sure the decibel levels coming from the group would have been less bearable.

Verona is like a city steeped in sepia tone. The buildings are a nice reddish-brown topped with roof tiles that are slightly rust red. Which is a lovely contrast as soon as the sky clears up and reveals a brilliant sky blue.  Everywhere I go there is love-themed graffiti proclaiming ''Ti amo'' to someone or other.  But for me, and maybe I wasn't looking, I didn't see many lovelorn couples moping around. Maybe a few errant tourists and their families though. For me, by the second day it was 'Ciao ciao' and off to the next extraordinary town.

I spy Istanbul. Shopping and Eating.

Stomach-friendly sweet

During my sojourn in Europe, I was quite set on seeing as much of the world (well that which was easily accessible from where I was...ahem cheaply) before it goes down the drain.  This thinking is a bit pessimistic yes but its all but practical.  If I am going to shit all over my child's future, I might as well do them the favour of having seen all of it presently and gloating about the past glory days in between their food security issues, land degradation, and climate changes.  Yes, I'd be a pretty damn good mother.

On this note and facing imminent visa default, I left Germany to travel to Istanbul, Turkey before my retreat back to Canadian soil.  It was a very learning experience - for myself, my wallet, my stomach, and my olfactory senses.  I started off the adventure flying via Basel Mulhouse Freiburg airport (which has shared borders in Switzerland, France, and Germany) direct to Istanbul.  As the name suggests, you should leave from the correct side of the exit or face stepping into the wrong country (sadly I made this mistake twice). Visas for Canadian citizens cost 40 USD. I am informed that BOTH British and American citizens pay much less.  Apparently Canada has managed to offend someone more.

You haven't lived until you've bought a fish kebab from a boat

My arrival to Istanbul was marked by a most unfortunate and gruesome sighting - a pack of dogs and ravens picking away the flesh of some other animal left out in the public park.  This would have seriously turned my conviction against vegetarianism if I weren't one already.  Yet, I think that this small carnivorous event is analogous to the Istanbul that I saw. Embattled by lack of resources (economic?), one necessarily becomes more opportunistic of the resources available to him.  I chose this explanation to describe what I have seen in the following days.

Young boy (8-12?) carrying garbage: better than the alternative

Never one to shy away from suspicious street food

I think the most boisterous markets and sales people must be in the city centre of Istanbul. OK it's also tourist mecca but I've never been cajoled so much by street vendors even in Morocco, Hong Kong, or Shanghai. I have unsavoury moments of vendors obstructing my path and insisting that they 'had something to tell me' or 'I just want to say something' or 'where are you from' before they would try to pull me into their store.  Shoving and undisguised annoyance was quickly adopted and remained so for the rest of the journey.

Bargaining at the Grand Bazaar

Strong Turkish coffee. Emphasis on strong.

The markets there are the most boisterous ones yet. Especially the Grand Bazaar where I must have spent a far bit of my time and money in :) The rule is bargain...hard...and then bargain again for half of that bargained price.  Oh sneaky buggers try to take pictures of you with their merchandise - to prove to other tourists that tourists like buying their stuff. If you happen to see a photo with a frowning tourist pushing away a lamp - that would be me.  I'm also convinced that shopkeepers communicate via fb updates if they are satisfied/unsatisfied about a shop patron. Its a feeling but I have no proof unfortunately.  The Grand Bazaar itself is one huge cavernous maze of shops in alleys specialising in specific goods (like tea, scarves, jewellery, turkish delight, etc.). And undoubtedly I got lost for as many hours as I spent shopping this was also compounded by the fact that I mistook the Turkish word for 'exit', çıkış, to be a unique naming of the exit gate.

I love trying new foods so you can bet I tried as many foods that I couldn't pronounce as possible.  It's an assignment that requires a strong stomach.  Luck for me is this carried me the entire length of the trip. Unluckily for me, I took the hit on the plane ride back home. Most miserable trip ever.  Unfortunately, taking the bill is another thing not to be taken for granted.  I can't tell you how many times I was charged a 'bread fee' where I had never taken any.  Most common response is ''oh but didn't you order bread?''

Efes and Raki are respectively the local beer and spirit. I enjoyed neither and yet somehow managed to take up my friend's share too. Kunefe is made with phyllo pastry and cheese and one of the best dessert dishes I had there. Ayran my favourite yoghurt drink and milk pudding my next favourite dessert.  Next up was Turkish coffee. When I saw it was strong I'm not exaggerating. It was like espresso but more bitter and more granular inside. Still today I cannot figure out if the coffee WAS supposed to be half liquid half coffee grains.  Interestingly, Turkish coffee can be ordered one of three ways - sweet, sweeter, and plain. Those in the know ask for sweet or sweeter.  And even with that coffee is still bitter. Its a taste I'll leave for someone else to acquire.

...

4 Things I hate about Toronto

Enjoying outdoor cinema: Byrant Park NYC

1) Decreasing affordability (also with proportionate decreasing of enjoyment of things I like - see previous post Jan 29). Its no joke. Toronto IS becoming more expensive. This is good news for the rich who can still ride on this wave but bad for the middle class and worse for the poor.  $20 used to carry me a long way were I going out - but now, if I wanted to travel around more than just to and from home I'd spend atleast half of that on the TTC and then probably the rest for a low-budget meal.

Enjoying a public concert: Padua IT

2) Diversity. What? I love diversity actually. Multiculturalism is what makes Toronto Toronto. What I do not like are the xenophobic reactions that follow any conspicuous in-migration of visible minorities to the neighbourhood. It gets worse further from the city centre when, thanks to chain migration, whole communities can isolate themselves into homogeneous ethnic cliques (or ethnic enclaves).  Unfamiliarity can easily breed ignorance and so on. Toronto sure seems to resemble more like tile patchwork than a mosaic.

Marketplace: Padua, Italy

3) Public space. Again something that I love. Except what Toronto considers public space is quite contrary to what I have in mind. New York City has Central Park - a huge green oasis that residents and tourists alike can enjoy year round. In Toronto - well there is the Toronto Music Garden (easily 1/10th of Central Parks size), the Toronto Islands (enjoyment is seasonal at best), Dundas Square, Mel Lastman Square (concrete oasis)... BUT none of the aforementioned are more useful then for a spot to eat before you dash to your next location. I'm better off relaxing in the city's many cemeteries. Atleast I get my peace and quiet there.

4)  The TTC. Delays. Poor service. Increasing fares. People not doing their work.  Weak connection of metro stops to bus stops. The TTC is just digging their own grave.

Standing still in Sweden

That feeling of being in the middle of nowhere: Sweden

Having spent most of my two years abroad here, I feel it safe to declare that Sweden was one of only a few countries I really feel comfortable in.  By this I mean that rare sense of security and self-assurance that comes from not fearing that danger lurks around the corner (except maybe if you were a cyclist in Toronto - then your just screwed) and not being leered at or bothered (well ok wearing a big mushroom cap hat and childish mittens assured I'd be kept off the radar).

Stockholm. Yep still cold.

Sweden is really much more than IKEA (I like the IKEA man), Swedish meatballs, blonde people, and knackebroed  -but Swedes don't really let you in on the secret until they get to know you a bit better (read: 3< years). No not even after downing a few bottles of local ol (beer) although it does go a long way. No Swedes are just...special...but also the most genuine and independent people I've met.  The country itself makes an example of values that we thought we had pegged like equality, appreciation for nature (thats right I had to google the Canadian national anthem to compare - there's no shame in that), walking in heels and tights in the dead of winter, and hell they even speak our own language pretty decently.

What I DON'T miss about Sweden:
1) The 7 months of darkness during the long winter season. And I still resent having to winter pant suit up just to go hiking in the woods.  But if anything, atleast the snow stays white and clean for much longer than it does on a typical Toronto street.

Uppsala (close to the Economikum)

Welcome here. Welcome home. Uppsala

2) I don't enjoy not fitting into any pants I buy there (bizarre freak mutation in Swedes - what's the advantage? getting further away from the warmth of the floor?).

Uppsala

Lining up for fika brunch

3) Pancake and pea soup Thursdays (serious? they've take a novelty cafeteria idea and unilaterally decided that institutionalising it was a good thing. I beg to differ. Cream on pancakes is not an afternoon meal).
4) I don't like how the supermarkets never have much more than root vegetables and pasta.
5) I don't like how the currency just doesn't make sense (why can't they be the same size?? and eliminate the 50 ore? really? makes it easier to count change).
6) I call it super equality. The Swedes call it Jantelagen. Does it hinder the learning process? Yes, I believe it does.
7) The word 'Lagom'. It has no meaning! Do you want more or less or not at all?
8) I don't like the vanity (cough cough Stockholmers cough cough. Men are not exempted).
9) Living in the middle of nowhere (serious did YOU know where Sweden was before I mentioned it? no not Switzerland)
10) Paying to use the toilets. Even in the malls.


What I DO miss about Sweden:
1) How I can wear a slouchy sweater, leggings and boots and call that an outfit without even trying.
2) Dinsko.
3) Daim chocolate (hurrah I've found that IKEA stores here sell it).
4) The coffee. 
5) Systembolaget is evil but such a necessary evil.
6) The lipbalm (the nice green bottle where you can just slide the balm up). 
7) The nice Swedish summer (when its usual that the entire day be sunny).
8) Nature.
9) The Swedish language. Listen to IKEA man. How can you not love it (this is just funny)? 
10) The individual washrooms. And the little indicators to say its occupied. Yah no more having to surreptitiously check for feet poking out.
11) Fika. No not the Italian meaning. I would not encourage you to use that word whilst in Italy. The Swedes have taken the coffee break to a higher level.
12) That no one begrudges the grocery bag fee. Why are we such stuck-up prisses and why not fork over the 5 cents?

That sinking feeling: Venice

Somethings missing: Bra bar

Last fall I had the remarkable opportunity to shindig with other like-minded professionals at a week long workshop on international environmental law in Venice, Italy.  The program was fantastically put together in a collaboration between the University of Padua and the International Centre for Climate Governance-Venice scheduling lectures by prominent practitioners in the field.  I still can't stop drooling over all the amazing people and topics covered - well despite the fact that International Environmental Law, atleast for now, is  less than helpful (thank you very much economic lust and political bigotry). But still its an amazing field and, with the fluidity of climate change and air borne pollutants, it seems to be a field with vast potential for change (mm this sounded more like a wish than a concrete statement).

Venice: Tight quarters

Watching 'The Tourist' is what set me off again into this little reverie of Venice. I mean just watching Angie pout in almost every scene while strutting along the streets of Venice makes me want to go back again - sit in a lovely cafe in St Marks square..and pay and arm and a leg for some real Italian coffee. I had the pleasure along the way to learn that saying things like ''why don't you have a Pizza Hut'' and ''super size that'' are blasphemous.  That wearing the right clothes with your hair properly done could probably pass as permissible for a tourist in  the city - except if your an Americano...there's no real cover for that. But maybe after a few glasses of Prosecco you'd do fine. And there are a whole lot of tourists in Venice - everywhere! Everyday and for every season - Venice literally is sinking with tourists. Quite literally. You people who are guilty. You know who you are.

After wave

Before wave

The island of Venice is just like the little pink logo suggests - fish shaped (I studied on an island just off the bottom tip of the fish tail).  I had taken the train from Bologna to Venice at a surprisingly cheaper ticket price than I had imagined (considering how much it costs to take the train from Toronto to Montreal with VIA).  It was just about the end of September and still it was such nice weather. Lucky me. Since I had misjudged and decided that a walk from the train station to St Marks Square was absolutely doable. This was indeed not the case - especially with my heavy backpack (mind you blazoned with little flags of all the countries Id been too - yah I'm that awesome) and a satchel which was by then also digging into my shoulders.  I had also made the unsavoury choice of entering into some boutiques along the way (but it turned out to be a good idea anyway-they don't have this stuff here).

Venice sunset

Venice by day

Venice is how I remember it the last time I visited (about 3 years ago?) - except for the obvious fact that there  were much more raised platforms then before. That and there were more dog owners ignoring the obvious fact that their dog just did number two in the middle of the sidewalk.  Ok. Besides being quite handy as an impromptu fashion runway in the middle of the night while your hollaring at the top of your lungs - its demonstrable of the fact that the tides are really turning against the city.  Well, to be factual, the tides never were working for Venice. Venice is built up in a lagoon-your living predicament can't be more precarious than that (making Venetians also quite vulnerable to a phenomenon called Aqua alta which is another way to say high tide). So imagine being knee deep in water (from the Adriatic Sea) and having your building's facade being washed out at it too. Enter the GATES OF SALVATION (just say it in that game show host voice too...getting the jitters too?). The project is called MOSE (thats just one 'S' short of a biblical reference...oh wait sorry it IS Moses in Italian). They are like mobile gates embedded into the sea just a short ways away from the island. But this video makes it look cooler than if I gave the point-by-point play.

Outside the train station: no trains are allowed on the Island

But ofcourse ''It is not just rising sea levels with which Venice has to contend. The city is sinking as a result of subsidence caused by decades of groundwater extraction for agriculture and industry on the mainland, and offshore drilling for methane gas. This combination means that Venice has effectively sunk 23cm in the last century.'' But what more is there to do but watch it all unfold marvellously as mother nature unravels the sea onto Venice like it has always done.  These and other effects of climate change are bound to catch up to us sooner or later. 

10 Things

Making lists are good - especially those ones that come in 5 or 10 - the exact amount of digits you have on one hand or two. No brainy for counting off your listed items. Unless of course you forget you have 5 digits and end off sounding three items rather than 5. But thats just embarrassing and besides its probably nothing Id be willing to share anyway. Lists are lovely. But not in an offish pretentious way - ahem my top 5 besties (no I'm not giving you a rank). Lists are lovely because, although quite reductionist, they are a mirror of who you are and what priorities you've set - that's what I think.

Cheaper than a drivers license (plus subsequent orders of beer)

My list:

Library Card - Sure beats having to buy books and its much cheaper! Although it would be nice to have a nice library of my own...except for those pesky overdue fines.

Elevate: heeled shoes

Internet - When there is nothing on TV - there's sure to be something on here. Plus life starts and ends here nowadays. Theres no escape. I blame facebook.

Tweezer - Keep those bushes I call my eyebrows in order.

Water - Its just good for you.

Credit Card - Try to travel around the world without it. Good back up incase of...well an emergency (read: bargain deal on designer wear). I do believe I wouldn't have the pretty nice shoes I have now if it weren't for Mr. Credit Card. Bless

Phone - Insurance for when you've got no money. Its your 'call a friend' option :) Also to inform friends of said bargain deal on designer wear. But only when you've got there first.

Tights

Good shoes - Many shoes for many different occasions.  Its like when, in the realllll old days, you used to have a morning dress, day dress, evening dress, etc. Plus its not practical to hike up a hill in heels. Believe me on that.

Camera - Not being able to read a bit of Chinese, this is the how I found my way back to my bus (real handy to leave a digital trail). Also it helps catching TTC drivers doing stuff they shouldn't.

Epilator - For those days when you do bother. This gets it done faster.

(opaque) Tights - There are days when you just can't bother. Tights are there for those days :) And because they come in so many colors :) (just waiting until I can find a replacement for my red jeans RIP)

We interrupt your regular scheduled program with this special news -

TTC: Take The Car

Really? What? A portion of of the subway (and mind you the important part - the one that brings you to the city centre where all the fun is) is scheduled to close and remain close from 6 am Sat Jan 29 until 6 am Mon Jan 31 to undergo track installation.  If you can count you will realise that this is TWO full days.  Although ''frequent bus service'' (read: no service or freeze your ass in the cold for 45 minutes waiting for the next delayed bus to arrive) will be available all along the routes shut down by the maintenance.  Comes at a perfect time too - come this evening, temperatures are forecast to fall between -15 to -17 for the next two days.

Texting 'n driving: work benefits?

For its complex size, Toronto amazingly still retains a quite decrepit subway system.  And while some metro systems are complex and large enough to accommodate for track re-routing because they have other lines passing similar stations (check: New York, Paris, London), Toronto has a sad total of 4 routes. The main exchange stations are few and far between: Sheppard-Yonge, Bloor-Yonge, St-George and Spadina.  For us lucky Torontonians, this means delays can be a real bitch.  We simply cannot hop out to take another route but maybe fall back on the reliability of bus service.  Which, if its anything like the no. 97 (runs up and down THE main street of Toronto) is like no bus at all.

Good night

Yet another complaint surfaced recently in an article in the Toronto Star.  The article responds to pictures of a TTC driver apparently texting while driving.  If your like me - Id be on my toes if I had to take those substitute buses over the weekend.  And the TTC just continues receiving bad flack. Whomever covers the PR sure has it cut out for them.  TTC spokesman Brad Ross even asks that ''people do not take pictures...I’m not saying we wouldn’t use photographs sent to us (for an internal investigation), just that we don’t require it.'' But I do think you need it Mr. Ross. I'm sure the matter would be investigated nevertheless but pictures do speak thousands.  And pictures SHOULD keep coming in until these things stop happening. A report can be typed up and filed and never seen again. But a picture - well that, in the right hands, can become your worst PR nightmare :)

Toronto. Password: Creativity

Painful to watch: The Bilbao Effect

You could whisper it, shout it, breath it out, or, more appropriately, do it in a lovely drawl all the while with the smallest hint of a sneer that only a true blue-blooded Torontonians could do.  Creativity.  It may be the shiniest button out there - but it doesn't mean its the only thing that holds up the jacket.  And cue in Bilbao Effect or, in layman terms, the utter fallacy of 'build it (something shiny and glamorous) and they will come'.  I refer, ofcourse, to the majestic Guggenheim Museum in the city of Bilbao - its beautiful, its new (ish), and it says something (probably).  Bilbao was just another decaying Spanish industrial city before - but, for the Museum, it was just the luck of being there at the right time - the City started to turn around just at the time the Museum took up residence in the city. Economy and infrastructure improvements were already on its way but the Museum inevitably remained the superstar and took home the credit.  Reproductions of this archi-porn has sprung up around the world (ahem ROM and AGO) - but have not received the level of success achieved before by the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao - but small wonder as the context was completely different!

Gentrification: Thanks white people

So, then I beg to ask why have we allowed ourselves to be sold hold, line, and sinker, that creativity is such a good thing?  I love art and I love culture. But these two are not synonymous with making a city identifiable with its citizens.  Art and culture are innately programmed to engage people without and within their environment.  ''What good does it do to do to build cultural temples if the pilgrims have shuttle back home to edge cities, intent on what they think the real business of life is--to make money, to stay afloat, to get quickly onto the lucky side of the gulf between the rich and the poor.''  We've been sucked into creativity as a way of live.  Its completely reorganised the way we see things as they are and the way we think that they should look like.  Maybe Toronto should stop trying so hard and just try to be, you know, a city - not for the idea but the people.