"canadian wedding"

Canada passed its same-sex marriage bill yesterday, one day before Spain did. (Less than that, given the time difference.)
We're now (barely) the 3rd country in the world (after Belgium & Netherlands) to permit it.

Was there some sort of undeclared race going on?
Was it one of those classic Olympic contests, where Canada squeaks by for a bronze finish, still fighting off the 4th-place contestant just to get onto the medal podium?

Is that why Paul Martin pushed it though on this timeline? for a gimmick?
Are we going to have signs at the border that say:
"Welcome to Canada. Please keep your religion to yourself and hey -- didja know? -- we're the 3rd country to permit same-sex marriage!"

Jesse's girl...

My friend Jen's friend Jesse Wong is a very cool artist. And a great guy. Who just happens to take amazing photos.

If you're in Toronto (and if you're not, what are you waiting for?!) - hie thee to his exhibit at the Distillery.

porca madonna! it's phat

Berlusconi's liposuctioned by-product was turned into a bar of soap by a Swiss artist.

Unfortunately it's been bought by a private collector, which probably means it's circling the drain.

Even creepier: The BBC files the article about it under "Entertainment".

ode to my dad

My dad has a funny way of buying cars. He reads all the reports, finds the most stolen car, and then buys the model just below it from the same line.
Seriously. The most stolen car in the United States.
That's how my parents got his-and-hers silver Honda Civics. Yes, they're both silver.
Happy Father's Day, dad.

Say Huutajat

I'm having a beer at work. If my boss comes by I'm hoping he'll think it's apple juice. Serves Jason right for leaving Heineken in the fridge.

This week's news:
One> Finland, Finland, Finland. A NYT article about how they're classical-music crazy.
Even more exciting: Oulu, Finland has a Shouting Choir! Sound clips here. I was actually there last summer for a wedding; if I'd heard shouting, I would have followed it. (and the actual lyrics from Monty Python)

Two> Terri Schiavo's brain was way wasted. Is it sadder that:
a) was resuscitated in order to vegetate through the next 15 years,
b) this happened to her at age 26, or
c) I'm spreading this news.

birthday roundup

It's been a crazy week. And I think my best birthday ever. I've been working my ass off lately, and am definitely in need of sleep, but occasional crankiness doesn't stop me from appreciating how much I love the people who love me.
I had 2 birthday picnics here in Montreal, and Sunday morning finally felt that bliss from walking home in the early broad daylight after a euphoric night out. (Not since New Year's at least, which is another story.) Plus it was so warm at 5.30am, it was a revelation. it was a re-birth.

Friday lunch I had a picnic with Cathy and Bianca. It was divinely decadent, and I will never again underestimate the power of drinking rousse on my lunch break.
Friday night I went with Erika to see Never Surrender, but their Fringe show sucked compared to last year's edition - 'cause they'd used all the good music already. Three words: Bryan Adams ballads. played full-length. gag. Still enjoyable on the whole, though.

Saturday I did the 10K race on the mountain, in which 2 people fainted. I ate so many oranges afterwards that my grandkids will be scurvy-proof. Erika and I then absquatulated for ice cream, and ran like giggling maniacs through every park fountain in Outremont. We got busted by security. Twice.

Saturday night I went with the yuki-ninjas and John and Amos & Co. to Stereo, which was amazing. It also looked like the club scene in a tv-movie about the HIV epidemic. Which brings me back to my Sunday morning walk home...

Monday night we had a sangria and birthday cake sunset picnic in Parc Lafontaine, courtesy of wonderful Dr. J. We all fell asleep on the blankets in what was possibly the most perfect evening of the year.

i'm so spoiled. 27 rocks. If you're disgusted reading all this, i'll understand...

geburtstag schmeburtstag

today is my last day of being 26. Tomorrow I will be officially, undeniably, in my late 20s.
at least i'm in better shape now than i was a year ago. not having a broken toe is a good thing.

26 is the number of letters in the english alphabet. now i'm moving on. sure, it will be just as cool to be divisible by 9, but still, being too old for the alphabet is a little scary.

As happens every year, plans to celebrate it are falling apart. and as of age 27, i will have spent one third of my life in montreal. scarier!

last night I went to the circus!

It was awesome and beautiful, an amazing combination of athletics and grace and humour. (With Cathy and Janius and Mike and Michael Anthony Hall and Michelle and tony and others.) Forget law school; for my next career, I'm definitely joining the circus.

My ex would-be roommate Terry was performing - it was his end of year show for the National Circus School. He tumbled down 20 feet on a rope and did general acrobatics with lots of people dressed in the same creepy uniform. He was awesome, we dug it. There was some cool hoop work and an erotic trapeze duet.

Going to someone else's school play is so much fun. There's a kind of sexual tension that goes with a performance where the actor knows they will be especially watched as a person. And as with all school productions, you watch everybody try so earnestly. During the post-show foyer mingling, you could sniff the incest in the air of the circus community.

I declined to go to a drink afterwards, thinking that if I was a good girl I would get lots of sleep. Not a chance.

drinking and driving

I just spent a long weekend cruising the vineyards of Niagara with my parents & sister, getting in touch with my white, upper middle-class, British roots. We even accidentally stopped by the Henley regatta site where the well-bred high schools were holding their rowing finals. Nothing says privilege like a Havergal rowing jacket on a future housewife.

It was a nice, nice, weekend. Niagara-on-the-Lake is still striving to be Canada's cutest town. Take my advice though, and don't ever go to a winery for brunch. Since you're obviously not there to buy wine, your food will be prepared with the same attention to detail as the kids menu: pancakes and sausages sweating in buffet table warmers beside the ketchup and hamburgers.

Aside from that, I spent a day and a half in Toronto (where I spent the first 18 years of my life). Did some wading at City Hall with the coolest woman I know, Erika L. And I went for a run in the ravines by my parents' house. I'd forgotten how awesomely secluded they are, and how upscale the surrounding neighbourhoods had become. I got the vibe of a leisure class conspiracy going on. As I ran, total strangers audibly greeted me, probably just because it was 9am on a Friday.

It always strikes me how masculine Toronto strives to be in contrast to Montreal. All those glass towers, all those pithy expressways, all those unadorned square buildings and cement expanses. Like it's demonstrating its importance by its ability to consume space. It's your basic steroidal architecture.