listen to the bunny

i just love happy bunny.

i was surfing my guilty pleasure, celebrity trashing websites the other day at work when i came upon a video posting of a bunch of women riding segways.

i remember in san francisco, you can rent segways to motor up and down the hills by yourself or you can sign up with a tour group. i always thought these wheeled "contraptions" looked utterly hilarious, especially the tour group peggy and i saw who all wore those hazmat coloured vests with the yellow reflectors.

anyways, the women in the video started tearing down a street, having a gay old time when one of the woman's segway's wheel accidentally knocked into the other segway. and because of that, that segway went down and that woman did a spectacular face plant and ate some serious pavement.

it took all the strength that i could muster not to lose my composure at my desk, what with my colleagues within earshot or able to come around the corner any minute. with pursed lips so not even the slightest cackle could escape, i laughed (soundlessly) so hard that my whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

i am so going to hell.

it's a lovefest in here

as opera’s baddest bad-girl, mezzo-soprano rinat shaham suits the title role to near perfection... vancouver sun

...sizzling star puts on a performance you can believe in... the province

...sinewy dancing that included plenty of bared thigh... the georgia straight

...feline sensuality... vancouver courier

all this passion and love and applause for vancouver opera's carmen being bandied about...makes me feel like checking out the flamenco festival in london or new york. or both. it's the red.

don't feed the bloggers

i risk sounding like a broken record but i really do LOVE my job. i'm thu-rilled that i'm part of such a forward thinking, innovative and creative team at vancouver opera. without a doubt, we are one of the most exciting opera companies to watch. not only did we get international shout outs and accolades for creating the world's first opera manga, but now we went and got ourselves noticed at cbc radio 2 and opera chic again.

traditional and social media have picked up on our first blogger night at the opera tonight. we invited four prominent bloggers on the vancouver scene to join us for carmen at the queen elizabeth theatre and blog their impressions and experiences before the performance and during intermissions.



our blogger night created such buzz and interest with our 2500+ attendees tonight that it was a resounding success. but don't believe me, check out what our guests and their readers' had to say:

the adorable kimli at delicious juice

the ever-charming tanya at netchick

rebecca bollwitt, THE absolute go-to person for everything going on in vancouver at miss 604

ami at the widely read beyond robson

all modesty aside, vancouver opera is a trailblazer, making headway and headlines, the company is poised to lead the way among arts organizations.



gosh, there's so many more awesome things we're cooking up for the near future that i want to shout it out from the rooftops; i can barely contain myself.

but contain i must. that is, until we unveil our next surprise.

selling the sizzle

model?


actor?


athlete?


dancer?

nope. this is the new face of opera.

gone are the days of the much older, avuncular and hefty barrel-shaped tenors who parks and barks on stage. more il divo than pavarotti, this collective of uber-masculinity can make any female with blood coursing through the veins re-think her image of opera.



i remember when i was in london over the holidays, i took michelle to the royal opera house so she could buy some souvenirs from the gift shop. i was browsing the store when something made me stop in my tracks. i had walked by a stand of erwin schrott cds (see above first picture) and i had to pause and double back because i wanted to make sure i saw what i just saw. no way could HE be an OPERA singer, i thought. well, wrong i was. turns out that "hot schrott" is many a woman's fantasy.

for more full-on man bites of barihunks and hunkentenors, check out barihunks. this blog site is like porn for the rabid opera fan. and yes, opera fans can be pretty hardcore. erm. let me re-phrase that. opera fans are known to be very passionate about this particular art form.

don't let the bejeweled, dressed to the nines, well heeled ladies who attend opera fool you. yes, the singing is key as well as the acting and chemistry, but let's not discount the obvious and that is the hawtness of these singers. you're going to watch a performance for 3 hours, it may as well be enjoyable.



okay, i got to stop objectifying these men now.

but should one be oogling the barihunks website, a word of warning: don't get caught licking your computer screen.

like looking in a mirror

hello kitty chinese zodiac figurines. yes, i have the collection.

had chinese new years dinner out with the family. as to be expected the restaurant was a complete gong show: waiters running around as if there life depended on it yet our first course took almost 45 minutes to arrive at our table, the food churned out and palatable although my mom's cooking is more kick-ass and my niece going through the terrible twos being a handful to manage at a place where you have to raise your voice many decibels just to be heard.

watching my brother try to feed my niece was entertaining to put it mildly. she ate a little bit but then declared "full!", "no moooore!", shaking her head, fists in a ball and throwing up her forearm to cover her mouth. if you try to shovel food in her mouth, she wouldn't swallow.

it was fun to watch my mom and brothers try to tempt her with jaunts out to the lobby or to check out the fishies in the tanks, in exchange for "just one more bite."

when she's at home, my brother told me it still could take upwards of an hour for him to feed her everything in her bowl. and after she finishes eating, it'd be another couple of hours that she'll have to be fed again. a constant struggle to feed this tot.

and forget about my niece drinking the recommended 24 oz of milk a day. (according to whom i'd like to know) she only wants to drink about half of that. especially now that she's had her taste of juices and freezies. allan would have to give my niece cheese and yoghurt in lieu of milk.

and since kidlet's all about the playing, if she had it her way, my niece would probably want to play all day without wanting to eat any solid food. just give her some fruity drink and she's happy as a clam.

i started chuckling and jokingly chided my niece about how naughty she is until my mom piped up and said my niece is exactly like how i used to be when i was her age. erm, thanks mom.

apparently, i was legendary at testing the patience of those who were the unfortunate ones feeding me. i used to be so frustrating to spoon feed, that my poor grandmother always gave up on that task and gave me back to my mom. but grams had no problems feeding both my brothers. or so the story goes.

so after my mom said that, i had a bit of a childhood flashback and i smiled to myself because my niece is indeed a mini me. but that just says to me that she'll be fine.

she'll grow to like broccoli, peppers and onions (although if she's really like me, cauliflower will still be on the no list) she'll probably give up milk by high school, if not sooner. (and if i could weigh in on that decision, i would have her give up cow's milk as soon as possible; what with the amount of hormones and antibiotics in it. it's not the same milk we had when we were kidlets. and when you think about it, human's are the only species that would drink milk from another species? uh, no.)

and if she's really like her aunt, she'll be drinking juice boxes even when she's a 30-something years old adult.

sunday morning laze

a busy work week behind me.

a through-the-roof successful opening of carmen last night.

this sunny afternoon.

relaxin' at home.

listening to the incomparable and soulful paul weller. (i love this man)



makes for one of those purr-fect sundays.

not the girly type

today was hella busy but i got to cap off the day with some shooting at the club. for those of us who went to tonight's meet, we didn't know it but there was a surprise in store for us archers. tonight was the first anniversary of the archer's group. so i got to shoot and have cake too. wicked.


top left: chocolatey chocolate cake
bottom left: the girly arrows with the yellow fletchings
top right: what will get your thrown out, if not barred

since there weren't any newbies tonight, all 8 of us started shooting from the furthest distances 15m and 18m line. the manager on duty recommended that i try out a shorter 20 lb recurve with some lighter arrows. i must say, it felt weird. the arrow's diameter was smaller than the arrows i've been shooting with the past couple of times and it flew differently. because the arrows were thinner and lighter, especially at the tip, they flew higher which meant i had to readjust my aiming.

after a few ends and alternating between the two bows and two sets of arrows, i decided that i'm not much of the girly type. i prefer the heavy thwack of a more weighted arrow piercing into the target.



after having our sugar fix of chocolate cake, it was time for some prize shooting. the first to shoot the target would be bestowed some gourmet bakery goods but as always, i shot not for the loot but rather for the challenge.



it proved a challenge. on the upside, i was happy to see my groupings were getting tighter and tighter, which is what you want. so after try and try and try yet again, i finally clipped the edge of the cupcake. (hitting the target paper doesn't count, you have to hit the actual picture) and it was as satisfying as noshing on a real cupcake.



we got to shoot past our 2 hour allotted time which was great. the manager doug regaled us with stories of when he competed professionally. each daily practice session would find him shooting minimum of 150 arrows. if i did that i'm sure my massage therapist would be thu-rilled. what a time he would have to try to make my back even, what with one side becoming more developed with all that drawing of the bow.

and then doug told us of a time at the gallery of an archer who had never picked up a bow and arrow before and after 4 arrows, shot a robin hood. (when an arrow is shot into another arrow, end to end) what beginner's luck. he assured us that we'd eventually get a robin hood for ourselves. the first time would be absolutely elating, but then the second, third or subsequently times may prove frustrating because of the cost in replacing the arrow destroyed. (one carbon arrow can cost up to $60) yeah, no. i'd eat the cost of split arrows for robin hoods.

course that makes me want to reach for that brass ring.

shoot a robin hood. have it framed.

goes well with breakfast

forget those boring comics in your morning paper when you're having your coffee/tea and toast with jam.

instead check out the awesomeness that is vancouver opera's carmen manga:



it's the beginning of the end for carmen.

happiness in a sign

you know how you're chugging along day in day out, going through the motions of work and school, you're neither happy nor sad for the most part, but rather, just being?

and when winding down from said obligations, you start to feel a tinge of sadness at the possible thought of being forgotten or insignificant?

and then when you least expect it, something happens that slaps a cheshire smile on your visage and you can literally feel the air molecules changing around you?

well, my very dear friend sent me a photo he snapped of a store with both our names on it. (what are the chances? how many stores out there have a combination of a chinese and english name?) and that totally made my day.



you know how there's people that you'll just love and adore forever and a day?

well, mr walker is one of those people.

what's new, pussycat?

if i won the lottery tomorrow, one of the many things i'd do with the booty would be to open a no kill animal sanctuary. yup, a city chick like me buying plots of land out in the countryside so that stray, injured and abandoned animals could be rescued and sheltered until they're adopted. animals that would be housed in cozy home-like settings and pastures and not in cages.

i believe that animals are absolutely essential to our well-being.

so imagine my delight when i read about the nekorobi cat cafe in tokyo. for Y1000 or $14 CDN an hour, a busy urban dweller who may not be permitted to have pets at home or who cannot afford the time/money to have pets of their own, could chill out and have a long play session with their favourite kitties and in doing so, can experience the healing powers of animals.

the eleven resident cats even have their own photo scrap books.


photo credit: japanorama

the cats spend their days wiling away on cat condos, beanbags or wicker seats, playing with toys or each other and being fawned over by the people that drop in. cats rule here and basically have free reign to do as they please. luxury living, wouldn't you say?


photo credit: getty images

i can not think of a better de-stressor for crazed work days. i would SO do this on my lunch hour.

reading about the nekorobi cafe gives me a pang in my heart because i miss my kitty edie. like big time miss her. and even though i know she's super loved and well looked after by my friends anna and jesse in north carolina, i still experience separation issues.

who wouldn't when she's as adorable as this?


photo by jesse

and yes, everyone that meets edie fall in love with her immediately.

a new dawn

shag's aquarius by josh agle

welcome aquarius - the sign of humanitarianism and brotherhood.

is there a more purr-fect sun sign for the inauguration day?

folks we have a winner

now that the holidays are behind us, i'm happy that i'm getting back into my regular schedule again. that means my archery class is back on its timetable. it's been a month since i last shot. that's way too long.

it was sketchy at first - getting re-acquainted with my 20 lb recurve and arrows again. but after 45 minutes, my shots were getting better and my groupings hitting closer together. i was not sure i'd even hit a bulls-eye but after a short while, i did.


my first new years bulls-eye

the group was smaller tonight (8 archers) which was fantastic because we could shoot all at once without waiting for a second line. this meant more practice time, even if our arms got a bit tired at the end.



photos courtesy of rina

we even got to shoot for cards to play texas hold'em poker. starting at the far line (18m) for the faced down cards yielded no results for me. but when we all moved up to the 15m line (second farthest), i pierced not one, but TWO cards. that illicited a little jump and a woot from me. such a nerd.



when everyone got their 2 cards, we gathered around the table to throw down the first 3 cards, which came up 7, 8, 9. then a 6 and an ace. i woot'ed again as i beat a pair with my straight. yay! i won the 50/50 which was a whopping four bucks! it could have been a buck for all i cared. i nailed 2 cards in one go AND those 2 cards won the poker hand.

colour me awesome.

a sitzprobe is not an acne device

sitzprobe literally translates to "sit and study" and is the first music rehearsal where all the musical components of an opera come together. it is here that the singers and orchestra hear each other for the first time. the sitzprobe is their opportunity to sit down and go through the music from beginning to end, integrating both groups.

up until the "sitz", the orchestra, chorus and principle singers have been rehearsing separately. last week i sat in on a staging rehearsal where the singers would sing along to piano accompaniment as the director went over how he envisions a scene. a couple days later, i caught a note reading with the conductor and orchestra. and although it was rehearsed in a church hall, thus lacking the acoustics of the theatre we'll be performing out of, it was still wonderous to listen to, especially as i was sitting 3 feet away from the horns and bass section. it was like sitting right in the orchestra pit with them.

this afternoon, i had the pleasure to observe the "sitz" at work at the queen elizabeth theatre. we're a week out from the carmen opening night and i sat enthralled, watching the conductor, anthony walker, fuse together all the elements with the jaunt of his baton and hand gesturing motions to the orchestra as well as collaborating and giving direction to the singers and chorus onstage.

the sitzprobe marks the first step to a very busy forthcoming week. on monday, it's the start of tech week which involves loading in, setting the stage, sound and lights. then it's full-on rehearsals with the cast in costumes. the dress rehearsal is this thursday and vancouver opera opens for a 6 performance run starting next saturday.

think you don't know opera? well, everybody knows carmen. it's right up there with madama butterfly and la boheme as the most popular operas out there. even an opera neophyte will recognize the famous song, habanera or the sweeping prelude, les toreadors.

george bizet's carmen has been performed thousands of time over, inspiring jim hensen's muppets and comedian benny hill. there's even a carmen legos opera. that's right. LEGOS. like the kind we played with when we were little kids. carmen joining the pantheons of legos tribute, alongside the dark knight, star wars and indiana jones. how's that for pop culture cross-over?

you've been flashed!

a flash mob is when a large assembly of people appear in some random public place (determined before hand), perform an unusual act and then leave the scene just as quickly as they appeared, acting as if nothing happened. often time these antics leave the observers at such a scene in stitches or at the very least amused.

well, the whole concept of a flash mob was kicked up a notch yesterday in london. there were so many reasons for me to smile reading my online newsites yesternight. besides the inspiring us airways emergency landing on new york's hudson river, i read with delight what happened at london's liverpool station.

imagine if you will, going about your business at a train station, walking through what you would think would be a normal lunchtime commuter crowd, when all of a sudden the 400 people around you "spontaneously" bust out in synchronized dancing? it'd be like accidentally wandering onto a music video being filmed where everyone hip hops, discos and ballroom dances to shout, the only way is up, don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me, get down on it, since you've been gone, my boy lollipop and do you love me?


photo credit: press association

i for one, would be jumping up and down clapping, a smile from ear to ear. my friends can attest to me often lamenting the fact that i wished we all could just break out in song and dance in our daily lives. you know, a la west side story, grease or grease 2. (i don't care what anyone says, i loved grease 2)



and although most calls for flash mobs are organized through social networking sites, this staged flash mob was coordinated by t-mobile for a commercial that was aired around the world via youtube today. and although some purists will pan this "flash mob", i think it would've still been pretty awesome to witness. i certainly would've been dancing and cheering from the sidelines!

the first flash mob was created by new yorker bill wasik in 2003. since then, noteable and famous flash mobs include:

zombie walk - zombies remaining in character, shuffling, groaning, slurring out "brains." for added realism, human participants would be planted along the zombie route to be "mobbed and eaten" thus creating a new victim for the zombie army. my lord, not sure how i would react if i had to witness THAT live. (i'm sure christopher is chuckling at me for this one.)


leicester square, london

frozen flash mobs - the best frozen one took place in paris on march 8, 2008, involving 3000 frozen people and coordinated by the absolutely buh-rilliant folks at improv everywhere. but the best reactions to frozen flash mobs belong to new yorkers, of course.


grand central station, new york

circle line parties - organized by the space hijackers , these were subway parties on london underground's circle line where revelers would smuggle in sound systems, disco lights and tequila bars disguised as luggage. due to not having permission from the underground or the british transport police, revelers would only party whenever the train traveled into the tunnels. but when the trains approached stations, everything would stop and the revelers would act like they were bored commuters. could you imagine cluelessly stepping onto one of these trains?

the last circle line party was held on may 31, 2008 and attended by thousands in full-on protest, one day before the new mayor, boris johnson put a ban on drinking of alcohol on trains.


the last circle line party, london underground

incidentally vyvy and i were keeping an eye on the space hijacker's website for any announced at the last minute new years eve party when i was in london over the holidays. but alas, there was no such event planned.

last september, the space hijackers hatched a pirate themed party in the greenwich foot tunnel, a 24 hour public footpath running underneath the thames river. dang. i would've loved to have partied at something like that. *flashback to my raver days*

speaking of which...

silent discos/raves or mobile disco - where dancers listen to their ipod or tune in to a dj/fm transmitter through personal wireless headphones in a public space due to noise restrictions. spectators would be treated to an assembly of people dancing, yet hear no music, save for the hooting, hollering and stomping of feet.


wireless headphones at edinburgh festival, scotland


personal mp3's in the turbine hall at tate modern, london

damn. LONDON SO ROCKS! i love london! i miss london!

how much fun it would be to watch these displays of social connectedness? wait a minute. f*ck that. how much fun would it be to BE a part of these flash dance mobs? pure liberation!

as the girl with the ipod and earphones glued to her ears EVERYWHERE she goes, i would LOVE to partake in such a danceteria with other like minded guys and gals!

that would be such an 'EFFIN RAD thing to be a part of!

what's that i smell? ah yes, opportunity

well, THAT didn't take long at all. breakneck speed. record-breaking time, actually. glasvegas was JUST here the other night and i hadn't even a chance to post up my concert pictures on flickr yet (clickety click) and then i get THIS in my inbox this morning.

seems the corporate monster that is live nation has jumped on the GV bandwagon. (big surprise) live nation presents: glasvegas returns to vancouver! are you kidding me? the band returns sunday april 12 to play the commodore ballroom. pre-sale starts tomorrow.

as much as i like glasvegas, i ponder if i will go again? i mean, they're no interpol or anything. and the venue is not as intimate as richards on richards. (400 club capacity vs. 990 capacity at the commodore)

but still, i can't help but think what if the next time they're here, they're playing arena sized venues? this could be the last time i get to see them up close and personal. and i have to factor in james allan crooning with rolled Rs. you gotta dig on that accent.

i'm going to have to play this one by ear.

here comes the scots

i was uber-psyched tonight because not only do i get to see glasvegas play a sold out gig at richards on richards but carl barat, ex-libertines and ex-dirty pretty things was also touring with the band.

however, to our disappointment we were informed that "due to unforeseen circumstances, carl barat will not be playing tonight." what sort of unforeseen circumstances? is that code for something? glasvegas and carl barat were just playing in seattle last night, so that makes one wonder if he even made it up to canada? what a disappointment. it would've been an awesome double bill.

anyhow, glasvegas more than made up for it. and as we waited (im)patiently for the band to come out, we stood listening to 50s rock 'n roll, rockabilly, do-wop and shoe-gazey songs come through the house speakers. this was not lost on myself or the few people around me as we joked that this was an obvious primer to the glasvegas sound. probably requested by the band.

the glaswegian quartet look like a throwback to the 1950s, when rock and roll was unleashed onto the world. stylistically, their rock and roll rebel image brings to mind the look and attitude of gene vincent, eddie cochran, early elvis, the clash and the stray cats.



the band was outfitted in black drainpipe jeans, black t-shirts underneath black leather jackets, looking like a biker gang (marlon brando's the wild one, anyone?) with pompadour and swagger, frontman james allan even looks eerily like joe strummer.

there's been huge hype about this band all last year; that they were touted as the biggest thing to come out of the glasgow music scene since jesus and mary chain, (love jamc) whom they're invariably compared to.

because i listen to bbc, i got to hear glasvegas' daddy's gone, geraldine and please come back home being played in heavy rotation. and with every release, i really started to like this band. it could be also that i just love that james allan sings in his thick scottish accent. don't you just love singers that don't conform to singing like an american? damon albarn, being another artist i dig, also sings in his british accent.



glasvegas bestowed on the audience mountains of reverb and the phil spector's wall of noise they're known for. the twangy guitars gave forth an almost shimmery sound to their songs with themes of violence, divorce and abandonment. although their melodies have a vintage-y, crooney feel to them, the edgy lyrics are often raw, personal and heavy with emotions. james allan can even somehow make the children's lullaby, you are my sunshine sound so heart-wrenchingly sad. the light show was so white-hot intense for such an intimate venue that i didn't think my earplugs were enough armour; i should've bought along my raybans as well.

the setlist:

flowers & football tops
you are my sunshine
lonesome swan
it's my own cheating heart that makes me cry
please come back home
polmont on my mind
geraldine
ice cream van
go square go
stabbed
daddy's gone

i really hope that glasvegas is not a gimmick or a blip on the face of british music. here today, gone tomorrow. they may have only one sound for now, but then again, so did the jesus and mary chain when they first came onto the scene. and jamc are still revered today because they proven they are masters of their signature sound.

i'd really like for glasvegas to stick around for a while and see what direction they take their music. and although i love 50s music, i'd really don't want to picture glasvegas as a cover band on some stage in a legion or a heritage hall somewhere belting out tunes like "come on everybody", "runaway" or "be bop a lula."

wherever i lay my hat

ever since i can remember gypsies have fascinated me. when i was a little girl, i used to daydream of traveling to far-off lands in a kumpania (caravan train). i grew up with favourite words such as vagabond, explorer, wayfarer and bohemian and i thought that the idea of nomadism had a certain romantic appeal.

i remember talking with mat, who has gypsy blood in his family tree, about spiritual homes. in all of his travels in his year long sabbatical, mat found his spiritual home in tasmania. he told me that he knew at once that it was the place that he'd call home for the rest of his life. that overwhelming feeling of "coming home" is something i have not experienced yet. there are still so many places i haven't seen and experienced. i am still searching. i suppose home is wherever i lay my hat right now.

so this fascination with the wandering gypsies, or the roma, was rekindled as i watched latcho drom the other night. my work will be presenting bizet's opera carmen at the end of the month, so lately, this has been an opportunity for me to delve deeper into this mysterious and exotic culture.

latcho drom, or "safe journey", is a mesmerizing 1993 film directed by tony gatlif. the traveling musiclogue features gypsies of india, egypt, turkey, romania, slovakia, germany, france and spain. there is no dialogue. everything is captured hypnotically in music, song, clapping, swaying of hips and dancing. the cinematography is amazing, the landscapes are evocative, the costumes are colourful and the songs soulful and emotional. if you like how baraka was filmed, you'll enjoy this movie.

the roma people are descended from nomadic tribes of the northern rajasthan area of india before migrating westward to the middle east and europe. these "children of the wind" remain a small tightly knit community with a strong desire to maintain and protect their culture and identity through all the adversity, persecution, oppression and annihilation endured throughout the centuries.

romani history has been passed down from generation to generation entirely through music and song. the roma were instrumental in introducing a multitude of musical influences in their wanderings; starting with east indian musical instruments such as the kemenche, rebec and hkartal to the music, dance and culture of the roma of andalusia spain, the gitanos. the spanish flamenco to a large extent is rooted in indian classical dance.

along the way, romani music have also left its mark on greek, arabic, persian, turkish, slavic, romanian, german, french, spanish and celtic cultures.



i'm ever fascinated with dancers who can twirl like a top. like my whirling dervishes and this exquisite rajasthan gypsy girl featured at 1:30 at the above clip.



latcho drom is a wonderful piece of cinema. the songs within reflect joys of life, hopes, sorrows, hardships of being outsiders and exiles and the struggle to remain as free nomads in this world. these original non-conformers have lived their lives with the belief that music, song and dance are what feeds the soul and has cast their net far and wide with that belief. and the world music stage today is all the more better for it.

tag! you're it! v.2

the "more than you ever wanted to know about me" tag courtesy of miss jai:

01. whenever i sneeze, it comes out in a fit. (only dry sneezes. no wet ones) my highest count is 13. one right after the other.

02. my youngest memory was at age 3 when i saw a little brown mouse scurry across someone's kitchen floor.

03. when we were kidlets, i used to hustle my younger brothers out of their change, convincing them that nickels were worth more than quarters.

04. i take my showers at night and i eat dessert before dinner. this is why 7 year old molly nicknamed me "backwards ling."

05. i can't sleep on the same side of the pillowcase twice. i use one side one night, then i turn it around 180 degrees on the same side the next night, the third night i'd flip the pillow to the other side and on the fourth night i'd turn the pillow another 180 degrees. 4 nights, 4 different sides of a pillowcase. and if in doubt, i'd change my pillowcase. and yes, everything else i share. except my pillow.

06. if i don't like something, i'm immoveable. my mom can tell you about all the hours i'd sit defiantly at the dinner table when i was a little girl. i was not allowed to leave the table until i finished everything on my plate. and i'd be sitting there still had my brothers not taken pity on me, came around stealth-like and saved me from eating liver, kidney, cauliflower and such.

07. i LOVE watching breakdancing battles! the first battle of the year video i watched was in 1997. it's all about the dancing. and the battle music!

an 'effin rad clip from the 1997 BOTY final showdown - style elements vs. south side rockers:



i tag miss d.

taking it too far

okay. i'm beyond repulsed. officially.

i was listening to my bbc 6 weeklies when a radio commercial for an upcoming tv show came on. with echo-y and skewered background music, a male voice sings, "a hunting we will go...a hunting we will go...a HUNTING we will go." followed by a woman's voice asking, "could you kill your own dinner? hunt it, shoot it and prepare it before eating it? from field to fork. kill it cook it eat it."

i nearly tossed my lunch as i heard this crap coming through my headphones.

seriously?!

shock tv sinking to new depths.

the premise of this bbc 3 "show" apparently demystifies how the meat on your plate gets there; from the life of a farm animal to it being slaughtered and butchered to being prepared for consumption in all its graphic and grisly details.

the first season premiered in 2007 and featured the slaughter of real live cows at an abattoir and witnessed by members of the public (meat lovers, farmers and vegetarians) in a restaurant-cum-viewing theatre where these same guests later dined on that meat prepared by a chef.

the second season featured the butchering of baby animals: suckling pig, kid goat, veal, milk fed lamb as well as an overview of the baby meat-producing industry. some animals as young as 3 weeks old. what. the. f*ck?

premiering this week, the third season opens with 9 volunteers (including a vegetarian) going through the process of shooting, butchering/plucking/skinning/gutting and preparing wild deer, wild mallard, wild rabbit and wild grouse.

i'm just listening to the ad and find it disturbing. utterly horrified, i could never bring myself to watch it if it was aired in canada. (it's not)

the one comforting consolation is if someone who watches this may get so turned off by what they see that they decide they could not in good conscience eat meat anymore.

seriously?! this is what tv has come down to?

give me some of that northern soul

LOVE the northern soul dancing in this video by duffy.

pictures now posted here and on flickr

new years sniffles

fearing the worse with holiday travelers returning home and not wanting a repeat of that close-call getting to gatwick like last time, i woke up early to pack (yes, i packed my suitcase an hour before leaving)

we caught up with vyvy and nathan on what they did after their daytrip to shere. they had gone to the south bank to watch the fireworks but decided against it with the thought of the crowds and the inevitable looniness of getting back by tube. i couldn't agree more.

after a quick brekkie, i was on my way. nathan and michelle walked me to the station. (bless) i can't believe that that was a week! it flew by all too quickly. next time michelle and i chat, she'll be back in new york and i'll be back in van.

well, that is until our next trip to rejkyavik. or greece. or any place else.



on the gatwick express, i started to feel sentimental as i always do when i'm leaving somewhere. i gazed out my window as we sped by the london suburbs. i wondered about the different neighbourhoods and its residents, what the houses looked like from the inside, about the lives that were being lived. i wondered if i can picture myself living day to day life here. i compared those speculations to my life in vancouver and at that very moment, i felt deep down inside that vancouver is where i should be right now.

michelle and i spoke about new years resolutions last night. she makes them, i don't. and it's not because i had already quit all my vices successfully. i'm far from purr-fect and i'm still evolving. i guess because all my current goals i set out for myself are still a work in progress. there is no set annual deadline.

after checking into the south terminal at gatwick, i strolled around the airport, waiting for my gate to be announced. i like gatwick airport because it's is kinda like a mini-mall with harrods, jd sport, hmv, next, ted baker, marks & spencers simply foods, boots (if you're stuck for last minute gifts) and wetherspoons, shake a hula and apostrophes in the food court.



the only sucky thing about gatwick? not only do they not have wi-fi (you have to pay for internet at individual work stations), but there's no sockets in sight to charge up my ipod or nokia tablet. wtf? this is an international airport right? i sound like a princess because i'm completely spoiled by vancouver airport amenities.

i was not really looking forward to the flight because i JUST got on london time and now i have to sit in a plane for the next 9.25 hours with 300 other people and deal with another bout of jetlag so soon again. yes, i know. cry me a river. but sitting in a full plane, restricted amount of aisle, arm rest and pitch space for a long-haul flight is surely not anybody's idea of fun.

flying home the flights always seem to go by faster but this flight was rough. my germaphobic self was cringing every time i hear phlegmy coughs, dry hacks, wet sneezes and blowing of noses everywhere in the plane. for over 9 hours, i was stuck in a metal tube of contagion. there was no escape from all the germs floated around and being breathed in by the circulated cabin air. ick. i can live with being around friends and family who are sick and even take care of them happily at the risk of getting sick myself. but being around a ton of strangers who are harbingers of germs? i'd rather deal with crying babies on flights. lots of them. anytime.

so now that i'm home and quasi-unpacked, i'm bundled up sniffling, congested and about to chomp on vitamin c like they're tic tacs. it's almost 11pm which means it's 7am body time. i've been up for almost 24 hours. despite the attractive mental image of me, i'm sure, i'm glad to be back and have the next few days to vegetate, i mean recuperate, before going back to work monday.

however, i can do with a new year's hug right about now.

new years eve in hipsterdom

it was a verging on panic, run around and get everything done kinda day. being that it's new years eve and that i have one more sleep in london, i ran around with michelle getting last minute gifts. i even passed up an opportunity to join vyvy and nathan who went to the country for a daytrip. and we all know how much i love "the english countryside could make me give up being a city dweller" country. it would have been fantastic to check out idyllic shere, which was featured in the movie, the holiday. if only there was more time.

but i digress.

michelle and i headed to spend my last day at the covent garden/seven dials are for shopping. it would've been madness going to check out the last remaining stores at oxford circus, particularly today. again, if only i had more time.



buskers and street performers were up to their shenanigans in full force, as we walked through covent garden, then neal's yard and leicester square. michelle had to meet up with a friend, so we made plans to rendez-vous in a few hours, which was just purr-fect cuz i could power through the stores i needed to hit without worrying that it'd be a drag for her. i always get like that when i'm in my one track mind shopping mode.



being that xmas season draws every shopper and their dog to london, i hadn't much luck on clothes shopping this trip at all. except for an £8 adidas and £5 vespa tee, every other purchase has been accessories only. i bought like 7 pairs of tights.

i hit the jackpot at marks and sparks, of all places. i scored a £5 red patent leather bag and a truckload of biscuits and chocolates. yes, everyone will be getting food from me when i get home.

went to meet michelle at the national gallery and you could already see the new years revellers arriving to stake out a spot for the fireworks at midnight in trafalgar square. would i be interested? hell, if i didn't even go to times square for the ball drop the 2 years i was there, i surely wouldn't be partaking in the london equivalent. loathe crowds. so not my bag.

after heading back to the flat for dinner and a rest up, we headed out for stake our spot when midnight rolls around. like coming full circle, we decided to ring inthe new year where i first stayed upon my arrival - hoxton, the home to fashion designer alexander mcqueen, pulp's jarvis cocker and other young british artists and a place where londoners go to party.



when we exited old street station, the streets were teeming with hipsters, fashionistas and glamourous trannies. all the boys and girls looked like they stepped out of the pages of vice magazine, nylon magazine or an 80s era new wave music videos.

we went for our first drink at bluu in hoxton square. and the most hilarious thing happened. michelle got waved through but I got carded. i suppose at my age i should start taking that as a compliment. and although we hated the idea of leaving our primo table and seats, we decided to pub hop.



we breezed in and out of spread eagle. too techno-y for michelle, and went next door to shoreditch station pub. the flavour was just right, the bartenders tres cute and the crowd hipper than thou. being that this was a hipster crowd, there was no official countdown but when midnight struck, everyone cheered, sparklered hands in the air, dancing about. after happy new years all around, the dj started to play some northern soul tracks, my favourite. i didn't want to leave.

course no new years revels would not be complete without the annoying guy telling us his life story or tag team guys trying to make eye contact with you, oozing desperation for hooking up. yes, girls night out is not complete without that.

although i would've been up to staying out a little longer, michelle and i left at 1am. walking down old street, we were both ravenous and were flattered into going into a donair place by its staff for midnight takeaway of fries. we polished it off right when we got to the tube station. our first meal of 2009, ladies and gentlemen.

as we came down the steps to the train platform, there was a dread-locked rasta busker singing and revelers singing and dancing around him. he broke out into bob marley's three little birds. and then it was just one ginormous love fest with michelle and i joining in on the singing and dancing. is there a more PERFECT song to end the year and usher in of a new one?

(since i can't upload the video to blogger, i've uploaded it to my flickr.)

the train ride home saw packed carriages, passengers who at the end of the night were in worst for wear condition and appearance, the train inching along or delayed in between stops and even a fistfight between 2 groups of grown adults (in the front car). could be a new years eve anywhere in the world, yes?

happy new years everybody! wishing you the very best for 2009!