Go there… Go there now…

On Queen Mary Rd. just east of the Snowdon metro station is perhaps the best sushi place EVER. Okay, there may be better SOMEWHERE, but i have been trying really hard to find it (using guidebooks in other cities and friends’ recommendations) to no avail.

The 7 Dragon specialty roll is perhaps my favourite - crispy yellow rice paper outside, crunchy tempura inside - and the BEST sauce. Did i mention that each specialty roll comes with its own unique sauce?

I never get the salad at a sushi place - all too often it is a little bit of iceberg lettuce covered in some sugary, thick salad dressing - it makes my skin crawl. The waitress - on what is now my sixth visit to Queen Sushi - convinced me to try their seaweed-cucumber salad. YUMMY!

I can also recommend the Oh My God roll - a hint of strawberry at the very end of each bite. Scrumptious. For sushi - it isn’t cheap, BUT well worth it as two people and two rolls makes for the need for a long walk.

But be warned, as my gentleman companion complained last night: “You’ve ruined the cheap avocado rolls i buy for lunch at the Sushi shop. I’ll never enjoy them again.” That’s me - raising people’s foods standards one person at a time.

The accounting department and I went to La Cantina, located at 9090 St. Laurent for lunch on Friday. I was overjoyed to see a real, cloth tablecloth without even a slate of glass over the top. This early sign of some “old-school” service did not lead my expectations astray. The chairs were comfortable, the decor was appropriately themed, the service was amicable yet neither overbearing nor too eager to please. The olives and sausages went very well with the bruschetta - complimentary - the white wine i was brought because it was my birthday was crisp and light (perfect for lunch) and my tortellina in a spinach-gorgonzola sauce was just rich enough. Across the table from me was the most appealing plate of seafood fettucine i have ever seen (and i am not a big fan of food presentation - my taste buds are my main judge). I sampled our controller’s gnocchi - made with ricotta - and it was pleasantly light although the sauce was missing a little sugar (The gnocchi at Five Doors Down in Toronto was much better actually). Again, because it was my birthday, we were brought a slice each of a cheesecake so light and airy it was difficult to be sure it was cheesecake until we had taken three bites - again, perfect for lunch because heavy, rich foods sort of put me to sleep.

La Cantina is a little out of the way if you live in the downtown area - but if you’re up in Ahuntsic or Cartierville for something else already - i highly recommend checking it out. The prices were reasonable ($15-$30/person) and the food well worth it.

I hadn’t been to a movie on opening night in ages and, i must say, the theatre was packed. Burn After Reading provided exactly what i had hoped for in a birthday movie - it was funny; it made me uncomfortable at times; it was social commentary in a completely palatable form.

While the range of coincidences that occur undermine the plausibility of the plot - its lack of resolution makes it much easier to stomach. Things do NOT work out for the best in Burn After Reading. In fact, one could make a good case that the ending is dark. While simultaneously laughing at the farcical yet all too real characters, you can’t help but feel compassion for them. Ok - everyone but George Clooney’s character who is just a less-brighter-than-average dick.

Although i didn’t go in a date format - it’s probably a good date movie - and the phenomenon of date-movies gets ribbed just enough that you might even be able to create a conversation starter.

On a sidenote - we caught the trailer to the new Bill Maher movie - the mock-u-mentary of the religious right in the United States. I vascillate between thinking it’s just cruel to point and laugh and thinking it’s about time. The trailer gives the movie an air of the cyber-popular clip from the end of Trading Spouses when that lunatic goes off the deep end because the family she lived with didn’t believe in Christ. I don’t know if i can sit through more than 3 minutes of that…

My parents are forever telling both myself and anyone willing to listen how “difficult” i am to get along with. There is some truth to this. I have not been at home a week and i am already tired of doing dishes for three people, cooking for more than one person, running around to get the groceries to cook and not being able to go to sleep when i want because SOMEONE is taking forever to feed the cats in the kitchen which is right off my bedroom. Have i ever mentioned that the parental homestead is not particularly spacious?

I’ve been going to the gym with my mother this week. She goes religiously on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I have agreed to go with her (in exchange for her paying for my enrollment, which i very much appreciate) on Mondays and Wednesdays. Our work-outs take almost exactly the same amount of time. In fact, she walks into the stretching room where i am doing sit-ups, push-ups and leg raises at my last exercise and times my “plank.” I am not as in shape as i was in January, that’s for sure. However, it does feel good to at least be doing SOMETHING again. Since my bike got stolen AGAIN in June i had been pretty coach-potatoey. I hate that my morning commute is in an SUV now and not on foot. Our gym is a little sketchy. There are only two cross-trainers. There are apparently never more than five women in the place at a time. No one uses the bottles of alcohol to sanitize a machine after using it (except for me, of course, who developed good hygiene habits through the frequenting of what is now four other gym facilities).

So, i decided to give my mother her birthday present a month early. Yesterday she received all ten Star Trek movies in a boxed set and we are going to watch one a week for the next two and a half months. This is the gift that just keeps on giving - and my mother is quite the trekkie. Watching the first movie last night was, uh, painful? Over five minutes of footage just of the “new and improved” Enterprise. An excruciatingly obvious plot. i missed Jean-Luc. I haven’t seen the last three Star Trek movies and am looking forward to them, but i think i am going to pay for this…

Much of Shakespeare’s comedic corpus illudes me, but I am also of the belief that anything written by the bard builds character. What could be more typical of his vision than a play of gender reversal and improbable love relationships ending in not one but four weddings?

As You Like It contains not only the often-quoted “all the world’s a stage,” which incidentally I found delivered without the power it COULD evoke although the rest of Jacques’ speech and Anthony Reid’s overall performance was absolutely delightful, but also one of my favourite monologues – when Phoebe, played by Sarah Swift, attempts to convince Silvius, played by Paul Hardy, tht she is not in love with Rosalind’s male persona. Sarah Swift provided a magnificent performance of a stunning, yet difficult segment of script that made the almost three hour performance worth attending in and of itself.

The rest of the audience seemed particularly impressed with the opening wrestling match, in which Orlando, played by Tyrone Savage, delivers an unexpected move (I won’t spoil the fun) to win both the match and Rosalind’s heart. I found this staging problematic – that a “low blow” would inspire such admiration from a lady at court was a little more than I could let slip by. I agreed with many of the Lada Darewych’s (the director) other calls, just not this one.

Kristina Stanclik and Evelyn Wiseman gave good performances of Rosalind and Celia respectively. The former had participated in a Ryerson fourth year RTA project, and thus earned my almost instant approval, but her gait and bearing were not convincing – room for improvement rather than outright criticism on my part. Her yellow, shift dress in the opening scenes emphasized a poor posture not fitting of her character and in the last dance scene she was the only actor who appeared outright uncomfortable moving on stage. Practice makes perfect and I am hopeful that even by the end of the show’s run she may correct this. Wiseman’s portrayal of Celia took me by surprise and until the second act I couldn’t resign myself to the exaggerated facial expressions and nasal voice that the rest of the audience appeared to delight in. Perhaps this demonstrates more my own inappreciation for Shakespeare’s comedies than anything else because by the scene in which she futilely endeavours to get some sleep but is unceasingly interrupted by lovers on stage, I too was laughing.

Philosopher’s Stage may no longer be a venue for outdoor performances in downtown Toronto next summer. I highly recommend attending this season (July 16-August 2). The venue opens at 7:30pm with performances from Wednesday to Saturday at 8pm. Pricey, although keeping with Toronto’s expected ticket prices of $10 for adults and $8 for students, Wednesdays are PWYC. Bring a blanket and enjoy the brief musical performances throughout the play, the completely appropriate modern adaptation and the over-the-top staging.

I first fell in love with Banana Yoshimoto’s writing in CEGEP when we had to read Kitchen as an international component of a Literature class. Actually, thinking back, the entire literature program offered by the International Baccalaureate was just fabulous. We also read Cymbeline, King Lear, WWI poetry by Owen, Sassoon and Rosenberg, Kiss of the Spider Woman and The Wars. From this list are four of my favourite authors and one of my favourite Shakespeare plays as well as my favourite poem… And just this week i was thinking that the IB was a huge waste of time… I must rethink that.

Goodbye Tsugumi was exactly what i expected of Yoshimoto. I can’t really explain what that means though for her writing is … light, almost trite, yet profound and unexpected. Her characters approach the world from a perspective so radically different from my own i find it difficult to believe how caught up i get in their memories, feelings and relationships. The main character, Maria, returns to the seaside town where she grew up after a year living with in Tokyo and has to come to turns with her adulthood, her relationship with her frail yet passionate cousin Tsugumi and the nostalgia for things past. It’s just lovely… Tsugumi is a great character, unbelievable at times, but since the story isn’t told from her perspective it isn’t entirely a problem. I love how Yoshimoto always has at least one transgressional romantic relationship in her books… and this one was no exception.

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I know i have been neglecting the online world. I haven’t posted in over a week, am not checking my emails and just don’t feel like being caught up in my own head right now. I figure it will pass. Another chapter is due tomorrow… i am scared about being able to pull off what now looks like the impossible again. Eep. My time has pretty much been completely devoted to Latin and working lately… and if you need to contact me… try facebook.

This past Saturday, i was lucky enough to attend a production of My Fair Lady. I will admit that i was a tad worried because the movie with Audrey Hepburn is one of my all-time favourites and it was going to be hard to live up to the comparison.

The singing and acting were very good. I particularly liked Mrs. Higgins whom i found difficult to attach to in the aforementioned film version. Most exciting, however, was the set. Different locales changed seamlessly in a matter of seconds… all very detailed and extravagant. Prof. Higgins’ library was ALMOST as impressive as the film version - and every since i saw it i have been dreaming about having a study like that in my own home.

The costumes were quite a bit of a let-down though. When my theatre group went to see My Fair Lady in Stratford in 2002, one of the girls burst out into spontaneous tears when the curtain opened for the race scene. This production had everyone clothed in black - and frankly, the idea of Victorian women wearing black as a fashionable colour just doesn’t work for me.

All in all, it was a great show and i am very happy that we went. The day was not too ruined by my still overly painful leg-cramp and there was a great meal at Five Doors North - about which i will blog shortly - and some French lingerie shopping which always makes me happy

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Bryan Bertino’s newest screenplay, The Strangers, will be released in Canada on May 30th. The extent to which the trailer reminded me of Vacancy, which i saw last summer at the drive-in, was actually so substantial that I ended up doing an IMDB look-up. I’m usually opposed to writers directing their own work as is the case with this film. The soundtrack looks particularly creepy and Bertino has said in an interview that the events are based on the Manson murders.

If the photos of the movie are any indication, Liv Tyler does an excellent job looking terrified. The trailer alone gave me goosebumps - but i have very little tolerance for the suspense/thriller genre. Sleepy Hollow gave me nightmares for weeks after a certain someone, after expressly promising not to because i otherwise would have refused to watch the film, yelled “AH!” at a most inopportune moment.

Do you think that the movie being loosely based on real events - or at least billed as such - will encourage or deter people from watching? I’m having problems coming to any conclusion on the subject as i don’t really see the appeal of scaring yourself. Is it the adrenaline rush? The way the banality of our own lives looks great by comparison? Our fascination with crimes, mine too if my addiction to CSI: Crime Scene Investigation and CSI: New York are factored in, is particularly morbid. I’m thinking of those rubber-neckers whenever there is an accident who cause a traffic jam on the OTHER side of the road.

And, on a last, side rant: What is up with movie websites (you’ll note i have NOT linked to the official The Strangers website over this) requiring the most recent version of Flash? NO - I don’t want to download your crappy piece of software - Just give me a barebones alternative.

I love action movies - my excitement over the impending release of the new Indiana Jones is already starting to irritate those few people who talk to me semi-regularly. Iron Man had been highly recommended by a large swatch of the population and now i see why.

It starts with a big boom and some great music (ok, so i love ACDC, be kind). There’s a love story on the periphery that in no way interferes with the plot, character development and a fantastic villain. Although i don’t know whether what sold me was Iron Man’s lack of a superpower, i found the second-half of the movie much more believable than the first. Not that the first wasn’t well done. It seemed necessary for a believable plotline and i was able to get over my problems with the believability by whispering over at Khuffie those irritating comments like “seriously? he has an open face wound in the desert with all that sand flying around?” and “wouldn’t it be kind of hot in a case of iron in an explosion?” Either i got too caught up in the movie to keep doing this after the first hour, or it became more “plausible” even though the technology got way more interesting.

And Iron Man is hot… Tony Stark is hot. So hot, in fact, that for a moment not only did i want to be him, but i seriously considered how cool it would be to be a pole-dancing stewardess on his private plane. Then dreams of boob jobs and liposuction ran through my head. Yes… i am weird. Unlike Spiderman, and i really like the Spiderman movies, Tony Stark has balls. At least four times during every Spiderman movie i just want to scream out at that ridiculous little man “You’re Spiderman for God’s Sake! Grow some stones!” Not such with Tony Stark… Tony Stark is an asshole. Drool…

Go see it… It’s worth it.

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Lisa Moore, Alligator. Grove Press: 2006. 320 pgs.

My last BMV Books trip with Veronica included the purchasing of some Canadiana by Lisa Moore. I am usually opposed to buying something just because it is written by a Canadian author (and my strong dislike of Margaret Atwood and Alice Munroe continues this trend), but the cover was snazzy and it was on sale, so i thought it at least deserved my reading the back cover.

Alligator was a Commonwealth Writers’ Prize Winner and a Globe and Mail Book of the Year. Two pretty prestigious accolades for something written about Newfoundland. i will admit, i had been meaning to get around to reading some of the great fiction about Newfoundland recommended to me over the years by my LAC colleagues. I was sold.

I had a hard time getting into Alligator - and i can’t decide if this is because i am finding it hard reading these days (i had the same problem with The Historian and The Eyre Affair, both of which i ended up liking immensely) or if it was because of the wide array of characters whose perspective was adopted in individual chapters. Furthermore, each character was, well, an extreme example of their “type.” Usually i am all for playing with stereotypes, but i couldn’t get myself to attach to either Colleen or Madeleine and their roles were substantial in the plot development.

Much like Middlemarch, by the end of the novel all the characters were connected, but unlike Middlemarch, i didn’t mourn every time the perspective was switched. My overall verdict was that this is an excellent light read, or beach reading for those of us who understand what that means (that’s for you Veronica). However, Lisa Moore is also the author of an award-winning short-story collection which i think i will check out in the near future… the book shows much promise. Maybe it just wasn’t my cup of tea. Some of the descriptions were stunning and the plot at times highly unexpected. I will be open-minded.

The back cover reads:
Moving with the swiftness of an alligator in attack mode, Lisa Moore’s award-winning first novel is a wickedly fresh introduction to St. John’s, Newfoundland. Its denizens jostle one another in uneasy arabesques of desire, greed, and ambition, juxtaposed with a yearning for purity, depth, and redemption. Colleen is a seventeen-year-old would-be ecoterrorist, drawn inexorably to the places where alligators thrive. Her mother, Beverly, is cloaked in grief after the death of her husband. Beverly’s sister, Madeleine, is a driven, aging filmmaker who obsesses over completing her magnum opus before she dies. And Frank, a young man whose life is a strange anthology of unpredictable dangers, is desperate to protect his hot-dog stand from sociopathic Russian sailor Valentin, whose predatory tendencies threaten everyone he encounters. Alligator is a remarkable book, a suspenseful, heartfelt, and sexy story that examines the ruthlessly reptilian and painfully human sides of all of us.