London Calling

 

The moment it sunk in that I am moving to London, my memory sent an electric shock down my spine. I vividly recalled my obsession with the Great Britain, Londinium, United Kingdom, Big Ben, high tea. I  remembered that from when I was 11 till I moved to Canada (where new elements started occurring to me), I was completely bonkers about Britain! I wanted to live there, I wanted to be British, I wanted to brandish the Union Jack everywhere I could.

 

Let’s face it. 

 

I am moving TO LONDON! This is happening. 

 

I am so absolutely excited about the possibilities of London. Of the busy and dynamic current of lives that it is, of the immense history, world class culture of all types, of the multicultural mix of people that I am delighted to meet, of the prime location and Heathrow, Heathrow, Heathrow that is the hub to everywhere else in the world. One of my most amazing friends (Kat!) is living there right now, and she loves the city. My other European friends are a stones throw away. This is it. THIS is the change I’ve been wanting, THIS is the godsent gift to my present situation. This is the fate grabbing me by the the collar and presenting me with the pearl of my twenties. Living in London in your twenties is probably one of the best things that can happen. 

 

I am immensely grateful to life. I am immensely grateful to my company that is moving me to work in our London office (in Camden, no less!). I am excited! 

20 Things to Do in Bogotá Before I Die

By Andres/Karina

1. Start a fire
2. Mushrooms
3. Create and/or follow a riot
4. Kidnap a Colombian
5. Exchange more dollars
6. Drink aguardiente
7. Assault a midget
8. Go to a silent play
9. Get a tennis lesson at a country club
10. Eat ajiaco soup
11. Get a tarot card reading
12. See a cock fight
13. Go to a bull fight
14. Take photos of street art
16. Go to the Botero museum
17. Find nonexistent stamps in an attempt to send a postcard back
18. Haggle over an item at a flea market
19. Buy South American music records
20. Write a list of things to do in Bogotá before I die.

To Add to My Facebook Disappearance

It’s been a few days since I’ve deleted my Facebook and I haven’t missed it actually. Mostly because, if I want to return, it would be for contact information. I can sneak in there and get it stealthily and then deactivate the goddamn thing again.

But this isn’t what I’m writing about. I’m reading “Marshall McLuhan: You Know Nothing Of My Work”, a Douglas Coupland biography of the legend. Coupland should do way more biographies, given his style! I’m really enjoying them. Or I’m enjoying McLuhan’s interesting life. Because he was such an intellectual, you know

Here is a quote.

The Maelstrom

Marshall loved Edgar Allan Poe’s 1841 short story, “A Descent into the Maelström,” and I love him for introducing me to it. In Poe’s tale, a young man sits at the top of a Norwegian mountain, beside the narrator, a seemingly old man of the sea. However, it turns out that the old man is, in fact, young—he had been prematurely aged by a storm a few years before that had led to a massive vortex in the ocean into which the man and his two brothers were swept. The younger brothers held on to large fragments of the ship and were swallowed. The narrator, though, noticed that heavy objects went down first; he held on to a barrel and managed to avoid his brothers’ fate. It ends with the narrator knowing darn well that the younger person could care less about his story of survival.

As nearly all those who try to relate McLuhan to the internet have noted, this maelstrom is a marvellous metaphor for the way to keep one’s head above water in a changing world. Rather than be sucked into a yawning, gaping mess, be nimble and analyze the broader scope of what’s going on. Don’t hang on to something that’s going to drag you down. You may not like your environment, but don’t allow it to overtake you or drown you.

I immediately thought of my decision to abandon a technology that I personally find burdensome and massive in that Yahoo-versus-Google-search-engine-homepage way.

In my profession (interactive advertising), I need to be nimble and I need to know about all the technologies. But I don’t have to use them all if I don’t like them. I finally understand why more senior strategists don’t bother with some tools. But boy am i happy when they bother with Twitter & Instagram (my current faves).

PS. Blogging from the iPad. Could this be it? Blogging more? Taking the time to formulate thoughts and sharing them once in a while instead of getting drowned in Facebook nonsense?

Why I am Deleting My Personal Facebook Account

I am no stranger to social networking. My first foray into it manifested in the form of the LoveHate.ru forum, where you simply write what you hate and what you love. “Simply” is an understatement. I had my first taste of Internet drama there. But it was fun social experience. I had a LiveJournal blog for the longest time, and nothing can replace that type of blogging. I did a stint on MySpace. I never had Friendster. WordPress is too public for my liking. I don’t like Tumblr. I have Pinterest. I have enjoyed Twitter for the 5 years that I’ve had it and Instagram is fantastic for the visual self. I understand social networking. Heck, my job requires me to, and I like it. I have a dummy Facebook account to perform work duties and research, when needed.

But I am deleting my personal Facebook account because I have not been enjoying using the service for the past two years. Why should I continue using the service that I don’t like? I’m not getting anything out of it. I have not used it to express myself to the fullest extent. Yes, I have reconnected with a couple of people from the past, and guess what? I’m taking down their emails and Skype names and phone numbers before I depart.

On Facebook I have a mishmash of close friends, acquaintances, coworkers, people I don’t even remember and classmates I don’t talk to anymore. I haven’t taken the time, nor will, to organize my contacts into complicated groups just so I could curate my content better. I’d rather use LinkedIn for business purposes. Do I even need to be up to the minute on everyone? I don’t think so. Time is precious. I talk to my closest friends on other channels anyway, and I never took Facebook messages seriously (EMAIL, FOLKS).

I have gained way more from my follow list on Twitter – I consume more interesting content on Twitter than I ever did on Facebook. I like the fact that Twitter doesn’t own any photo that I share on it. I don’t like that some arrogant psychopath obsessed with “connecting the whole world” (the whole world doesn’t need to be connected, in my opinion, you Zuck) has access to so much of my data just so he could serve crappy ads to me. The ever-changing privacy settings are getting to me too. I also don’t want someone’s extended family coming up in my friend recommendations. These two New York Times articles have added to my confusion too: Facebook is Using You and Death of the Cyberflaneur.

I don’t mind missing a few Vice parties and other du jour crap because I now won’t get the Facebook invite. Those who care enough will invite me in person. I can reach my close and not so close friends on other networks if I want to. I prefer to catch up one-on-one anyway, over homemade dinner and a good glass of wine. I want to spend more time on smart blogs, interesting publications, educational videos and what not. Yes, I may miss some opportunities to gain more traffic to my articles on The Genteel, but what can I do? I’m not happy using Facebook. But I am always happy to catch up in person. I’m still going to be around. A lot. Maybe I’ll even start blogging.

See you on Twitter and Instagram

where my writing has moved to

It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything in this blog. I’ve been writing posts – frequently to occasionally – since 2008. But I took a break in November 2010. Life took over, things got busy, I didn’t want to share about my personal life, considering how open I already am on my Twitter page, or I just felt lazy. Which is why I was looking for the right opportunity to start writing again. Preferably with deadlines. Preferably with a required word count of around 1,000. And for something I truly believe in.

The Genteel is just that: “It is committed to delivering quality journalism, unearthing the forces shaping international fashion and design, through the lens of business, culture, society, best kept secrets and street style. As multi-dimensional and stimulating as its readers, The Genteel is the inspired destination where informed readers converge with in-depth fashion and design coverage.”

Moreover, it is a tremendous effort and a slick brainchild of Mona Chammas, my friend and colleague at Blast Radius. I remember the day she told us about starting a pet project, but wouldn’t tell us what it was. I remember the launch of her street style blog, Geeky Chic.  I have watched her hard work and results over less than a year. I saw determination, planning and passion she’s invested in this project, the hours she’s put in, the struggles here and there. And today, my friends, she launched The Genteel! Mona discussed fantastic plans and vision for the publication, and I cannot wait to see her succeed.

I am thrilled about The Genteel because I always wanted to be part of something like this. I wanted to tell stories in a structured format, for a global intelligent audience, and on a well-designed website (packaging matters!). I have something to say, and I am proud that I am part of this fabulous team of international writers and dreamers. And that’s where you will be able to find me twice a month. I’ve written my first piece and am including a snippet here.

When Daniele Tamagni, a young Italian photographer, went to Congo in 2006 on an assignment, he encountered a surreal sight that he did not expect to see. Against the backdrop of a Brazzaville shantytown, in the country ravaged by civil wars, bombings and suffering, he saw groups of spectacularly dressed men (and few women) in the streets. As Daniele later found out – through meeting one, then another one, and another one, – they were members of a fascinating Congolese subculture, le Société des Ambianceurs et des Personnes Élégantes, or le Sape for short. At a first glance, one thinks it is the cult of the cloth, but further research reveals it to be a revolutionary movement of sorts, which once defied political leaders. For some, dressing up in such glamorous attire is a way to escape and forget poverty.  Sapeur Michel comments: “a Congolese Sapeur is a happy man even if he does not eat, because wearing proper clothes feeds the soul and gives pleasure to the body.”

Dandies of the Congo in full is available here.

Estonian Is No Delirious Cakewalk

I was reading an article about countries that are the least vulnerable to natural disasters (Estonia, Bahrain, United Arab Emirates, Qatar and Andorra), and then continued to check out the comments when I stumbled on this beautifully written, cheeky message about the spoken languages in those countries, and I must say, I fell in love with the writing, and also want to move to Andorra. Here is the comment:

“While I’m sure Estonia is a very nice and fun country with lots of beautiful, talented, big-hearted people who know how to have a good time and (when it’s appropriate!) laugh real hard…

I would nonetheless like to point out that the ESTONIAN LANGUAGE is one of humanity’s “nightmare languages” and — trust me on this one — there’s a very, very good chance that you could get hypertension or clinical depression and maybe even shave precious years off your already all-too-brief lifespan if you were just to sit down and try to learn ESTONIAN GRAMMAR.

I’m sure that right now some of you are rolling your eyes in disgusted disbelief and are saying, “Geepers, Hugo! You can’t be serious!”

But there’s simply no denying the horrifying fact that, while Estonian nouns have no gender, Estonian nouns and adjectives decline in FOURTEEN CASES, including such howlers as the so-called “illative” and “abessive” cases. Wow!! Scary!!

Estonian is NOT a cozy, cute, easy-going language such as Indonesian or Swahili, which, in comparison, are gleeful hayrides of joyous simplicity and relaxation.

So, if you are a worrywart and can’t sleep at night because you are afraid of tsunamis and tornados and/or locusts, then you should probably move immediately to Estonia and spend the rest of your life learning to decline nouns and adjectives in FOURTEEN CASES and tearing out your hair and weeping in bitter frustration.

Also, as far as Qatar, Bahrain, and the UAE, are concerned, Arabic is no delirious cakewalk, either.

So, after the fat lady has sung, it looks like Andorra is probably your best bet safety-wise and also in terms of relatively anguish-free language acquisition because learning Catalan is basically a two-for-one deal or, if you’re very clever, even a three-for-one deal because if you learn Catalan you can quickly and effortlessly learn Castilian and French and, with extra-special bonus effort, maybe even Portuguese and/or Italian. So, it could even turn out to be a four-for-one deal if you are a hard worker with a decent memory and can roll your r’s and make lots of tricky vowel sounds like the ones you encounter all the time in French. (But you can just forget Romanian, because it’s a whole other ball of wax that has lots and lots of grammar. But the pronunciation isn’t very hard. But still. Also, lots of Slavic loanwords that you probably won’t recognize. Also, some words of Turkish origin, which you also probably won’t recognize. Although Turkish, compared to Estonian, is a total breeze.)”

 

Fashion Figures Tweeting Bullshit

Ok, not ALL. I just spent 20 minutes scanning various fashion personalities’ Twitter streams and was surprised (or not) to find plenty of annoying similarities (on some profiles), like mottoes, words of encouragement and assorted tidbits of wisdom.

As much as my first impulse is to appreciate fashion gods using social media tools and sending us advice that should inspire us, I concurrently feel that they (these soulless profiles) don’t honestly mean or believe what they send. Moreover, I think they are using Twitter to simply enhance their brand (a facade, a public image). It’s bullshit.

I should say now, that not everyone is doing this. Those in the younger spectrum seem to be using Twitter for what it really is, and interacting with fans or peeps they know. Zac Posen does a great job, so does Coco Rocha, Henry Holland and so on. There are plenty of real people on there, and they bring a lovely dimension to their public personas, and I love their brand more for it!

But look at this colorful batch!

Are you kidding me? How old is this guy? He seems to be quoting for a how-to-make-it-big-in-life mixed with an art book. Both a failure. Maybe good for aspiring 13 year olds.

And Carine Roitfeld:

I’m sorry, but I doubt that Carine Roitfeld got where she is now by “being nice to everyone”, being friends with a few and trusting only herself. Come on. She is a hardworking woman, and she in a fashion world. You think she would be absolutely nice to everyone (nudge nudge interns and poor anorexic fashion journalist wannabes)? And what about being friends with a few? Come on, I bet her BlackBerry contact list is exploding with friends.

The only decent quote on her page is this (and I favorited it). Very good point, and I do follow it:

I was horrified to learn that Allie Hilfiger is learning from these automaton Twitter accounts. She’s a youngun and in no way certified to disperse “wisdom” to the rest of us. But this is a free country, so obviously I have no problem with this.

This is actually decent:

Karl Lagerfeld does this thing too, but he’s at least ancient and has seen it all. Moreover, I do love him, and his tweets honestly sound self-produced and in no way fabricated (but then who knows, he may have a better talented ghost-twitterer). I actually favorite a lot of his posts.

I have a couple of questions to those automaton-like fashion celebrity accounts.

• Do they really tweet themselves? I suspect a lot of ghost-tweeting… Heh, interns of the 21st century are also obliged to tweet on their bosses’ behalf.
• Why don’t they interact with their fans? Do they want to stay out of “proletarian”, cheap and accessible-to-all tools like Twitter? Do they not know how to check for mentions?
• Why do they sound so goddamn generic? Is this because of the lack of erudition, personal opinion, personal publicly available opinion?

I am so fascinated by this. I have been thinking about this ever since I stared following Lagerfeld last year. But I truly love him. If anything, he’s best in class at this distant fashion icon tweeting. But others? Come on, others. Disengage or show some personality. Have you noticed any more fashion people doing this? Share. This blog is based on 20 minute long stalking session of certain twitter profiles (and several months of thinking), it’s by no means an exhaustive academic study.

I should also say that I have no doubt that these are wonderful and interesting people in real life (and they are, I know it), but what they’re doing with their Twitter profiles absolutely revolts me. If they started quoting various artists, intellectuals and philosophers from whom they learned (heh, if any), then I would quickly change my mind. Just don’t tweet Deepak, please.

If These Aren’t The Best Tights In The World

…then I don’t know which are, really.

Behold Bebaroque

from UK. (Heh, I first typed youk… All right) Actually, the brand is registered in Scotland. It seems like they are from Edinburgh.

Some of the best legwear I’ve seen in a long time – and I’m an avid tight connoisseur – that’s Bebaroque. I can’t gather much on the history of the brand or the people behind, so I’ll allow the pictures to speak for themselves.

And my most favorite:

No wait, let me zoom that IN for you

And

These Lourdes tights can be yours for $249 or £194.99.

Good Things That Happened This Weekend

A roundup of good things that happened last weekend. I find that I share a lot of little awesome things on Facebook and Twitter, but rarely do I put them on the blog as well. Which I should do, since reminiscing about the past or pointing people to great products is easier through a blog link. It was a good weekend.

Friday

Great cheeses were found, and excellently paired up with Cave Spring Gamay. I decided to stay at home after a full week of events and weeknight outings. Plus, I wake up at 6:30AM and get to work for 8 every Friday because of a report deliverable at 10AM. Coupled with candy Friday, I just end up being apathetic on Fridays. Which is fine by me. I went to Kensington market to grab some assorted olives, smoked salmon and cheese to snack on. I grabbed some Beemster, which is never a bad idea, and gave Fleuron de Bruges a try. Wow. I am not a fan of soft cheeses but when I tried this extra soft cheese with an orange rind and nutty flavor, I waited for 15 seconds, then declared, “It’s growing on me”, and bought some. Now I want more!

I also watched a 1995 foreign film, Man Bites Dog, which I tuned in and out of. It’s a black and white film which follows a reckless young serial killing man as he goes about his business. It was fun. The main character says a lot of interesting things, can play the piano, sing, recipe poetry and…also kill a lot of people. Oh well! I actually roared with laughter a lot more than I thought I would.

Saturday

The day started with me hosting brunch for Nadine and I. Pardon the blurry photo, but at the time I didn’t notice anything wrong it. We enjoyed a breakfast spread that was a bit too big for two people, but still: salad, fresh baguette, organic butter, organic citrus fruit, cheese, prosciutto, smoked salmon, olives, and scrambled eggs with caramelized onions & zucchini. No wonder brunch lasted all afternoon, but so did the writing. I wrote a detox summary (which I posted two days ago), I wrote some pages for the 3 pages a day challenge (which, by the way, is turning into a 10 pages a week exercise, but oh well). Productivity!

When I came over to my friend’s place to play Settlers of Catan, I was in high spirits. Then I lost the game (or was on my way there), and that didn’t bode too well. We turned the evening around, however. We also watched Tarantino’s Jackie Brown, but unfortunately I fell asleep at the part where Jackie was making sharp deals with the racketeers or whatever they were.

Sunday

I slept in till 11am just because I could. Woke up sans alarm and read a bit. I’m few days away from finishing Luis Bunuel’s autobiography. It’s a great book. While I was reading on Sunday, I realized that I have a passion for learning about the lives of talented and truly brilliant individuals of the 20th century. I also enjoy the fact that I am familiar with the work of most players of several artistic movements of the times. When I read the stories of one of the movement participants, I learn about others. And when I read their accounts, I gather new and interesting information about their life. Or anecdotes. Or quotes. <3

Then I indulged in mysticism, courtesy of Meghatron. I figured something things out and decided to take it easy all day. But first, I had to update my wardrobe for a garland of holiday parties coming up.

So I purchased the following Marais black lace up heels, just cause I don’t have any proper black booties / heels / “serious” shoes. All my shoes are red, or sneakers, runners and heels I don’t want to wear anymore. Look at these versatile cuties:

And the Shakuhachi red animal bat wing dress. It looks pretty awesome.

I also downloaded the Amazon iPhone app, which was the end of me, really. I became obsessed with the idea of reading truly inspiring, interesting and intelligent biographies (but preferably autobiographies) of artists, writers, intellectuals and film people. I called for a list of said biographies and so far I received these recommendations (and thus, recommend them to you):

• Pablo Neruda, Memoirs
• Reinaldo Arenas, Before Night Falls
• G.I. Gurdjieff, Meetings With Remarkable Men
• Mark Twain, Autobiography, Vol. 1
• Frank Zappa, The Real Frank Zappa
• Cleopatra: A Life (by Stacy Schiff)
• Patti Smith, Just Kids
• Peggy Guggenheim, Confessions of an Art Addict.

I bought the Reinaldo Arenas one, and it’s currently in ze mail, en route to me!

I also made several delightful sandwiches to keep me full at lunches at work. Here’s one specimen:

TAXI giveaway?

A month ago (or maybe more than that) I noticed a dramatic increase in a number of TAXI (as in the agency) messenger bags in the Spadina & King West area. The company must have executed some kind of a giveaway. Was it the back to school idea, or what?

Either way, not only have I spotted at least 4-5 different folks. All male, by the way, which begs the question of whether 1) there are not a lot of women at TAXI on Wellington, 2) women have better bags and purses to carry around 3) or only guys were given these bags. The last one, I hope, is a completely preposterous idea. I just wanted to have three scenarios in this list. The point is, there’s a lot of these bags around.

Not only that, but I have one TAXIst living in my neighborhood. Which is far from King & Spadina (by my standards). This geek bikes to work every morning with the messenger bag over his back. I want to yell at him, “Hey neighbor!” but I don’t.

Post-Detox Thoughts and Musings

I completed my first ever detox 10 days ago. It started on November 1 and ended on the 10th (inclusive).

It was amazing! It was restrictive. It was a test of character. Turns out I’ve got solid willpower skills when I want to use them. The thing is, usually I don’t want to apply willpower Let’s go over the detox and my survival of it, then finish with lessons learned and future detox plans.

Why did I detox? I just wanted to feel better, that’s it. I wanted to feel lighter, healthier, to have better skin and and more energy. Simple wants, really.

In October I realized that I will need to drastically cut down on my indulgent consumption of delicious (and sometimes not) and bad-for-you (but sometimes not) things. Plus there have been a lot of visitors and out-of-town guests, which usually requires going out to restaurants and bars.

I just didn’t feel right. I feel bogged down, I feel heavy, unhealthy and not my chipper self. Moreover, with the seasons changing, I wanted to feel as light as possible, since the extra fall/winter clothing was sure bound to make me feel only worse.

So I started researching detox options. And so I found one. I learned that “there can be no dairy, grains with gluten, meat, shellfish, anything processed (including all soy products), fatty nuts, nightshades (potatoes, tomatoes, peppers and eggplant), condiments, sugar and obviously no alcohol, caffeine or soda.” All right. That seemed challenging enough! Perfect time to stretch those willpower muscles.

The biggest challenge was breakfast actually. I usually have no problems surviving on salads, and I don’t care for soda and most condiments. Giving up alcohol was not a problem either as I’ve done it in the past (there are practical consequences that make it difficult – for example, getting bored at parties when everyone is tipsy and silly. Or declining invitations to open bar events because that usually leads to nowhere go. My favorite is always surprising people when I tell them that I’m not drinking, though. People are not used to young social people not drinking).

Breakfast was a bitch. At first. On day 4 I decided that I love smoothie breakfasts (with Vega and greens plus by Genuine Health were what made them amazing). I am also the kind of a person who eats in the morning (how can you not eat in the morning and stuff yourself silly at night? You’re doing it wrong!), so going hungry till lunch was a pain. However, as the detox progressed, I realized that a breakfast smoothie was enough to keep me going.

I discovered that steamed fish is the best thing in the world, too. Simply steamed with a bit of natural herbs. Bam! I also fell in love with kale all over again.

I blended a lot of green vegetables together. And made very green soups.

I learned that one doesn’t need to eat a lot of food. Moreover, I learned that the many foods that we eat on a daily basis can make us feel pretty bogged down and tired. I had SO much energy when I didn’t eat bread, grains, dairy (biggest culprit, I think) and meat. Night and day.

I now have more respect for a vegan diet. I am considering a plan where I eat vegan several days per week just to maintain that feeling of lightness.

Despite not drinking coffee and having one of the busier weeks at work, I fared incredibly well. Instead of coming home to crash, I would come home and find that i had enough energy to take on personal projects or just work some more. All right! In fact, getting enough rest and taking your vitamins (or greens plus) was better than drinking coffee.

I also developed more appreciation for the foods I took for granted. For example, for some people a steak is a usual thing. Whereas for me a 100% grass-fed strip loin is now a treat on par with lobster. I just appreciate the fancy (and usually bad for you) foods a lot more now. I try to not wolf the food down as fast as I can, but really take the time to enjoy it.

Eating natural and healthy (and in most cases, organic) foods has made me feel lighter, better, more mellow and happier. I lost 5-7 lbs, and I now want to do a weekly detox once a month. Or 10-day detox every two months. I do admit that I had two pretty dark days where I spent the evenings reading menus of various restaurants (from ridiculously indulgent to plain ol’ pizza chains). But I prevailed.  There were only positive consequences of this detox, once you get over the fact that you can’t eat anything you desire.

My Paper Is Made of Meat

Two weeks ago I bathing in the brief but wondrous period of magazine discovery and appreciation. When I came across Meatpaper, I was on the sexy Mag Culture blog. I was scrolling through, checking out various magazines and news when something caught my eye. A sandwich booklet that will be shipped with 13th issue of Meatpaper. I thought, Meatpaper? What kind of a joke is that? And then, Sandwich?!! Who said, Sandwich?

Because recently I have fallen in love with sandwiches like never before, anything sandwich-related caught my eye. Especially when there’s a white and pink unicorn sleeping soundly between the slices.

Back to Meatpaper. It’s a quarterly San Francisco-based magazine. And it’s amazing.

What is this ALL about? In the words of Meatpaper:

At once divisive and universal, delicious and disturbing, funny and dead-serious, meat polarizes us unlike any other food.
Us, we’re ambidextrous here at Meatpaper — no agenda except to gnaw on the ideas, artistic excursions and bone-deep emotions the subject inspires. We invite you to dig in with us.

The reasons I fell in love with it:

• Covers. Mixture of New Yorker and art/life photography. I can’t quite place it, but there is something crisp and beautiful about all the covers.
• Quarterly. Good fucking content comes in quarterly packages. For a topic such as this.
• Amazing collection of topics.
• The culture of meat. I’m a foodie, okay, I like to read about food besides consuming and photographing it. Meat is an interesting topic. It can be very polarizing, and it can be quite uniting. It is painful to some, and delightful to others.

I subscribed. After checking out the kinds of articles presented in this publication, I contacted the office and subscribed. And yesterday I received my issue 12 and 13. Off to reading!

(I highly recommend you check out their website)

Just look at the sample articles and coverage:

• stories about a variety of meats, including python, locusts, tripe, beef tongue, porcupine, dog, and jailhouse meat
• report on competitive eating, bug tacos, squirrel hunting, sea turtles, and more.
• learn about oyster farming, meat facials, and the global origins of one taco’s ingredients.
• a multi-disciplinary, sensory extravaganza of topics, including meat perfume; meat aura photographs; meat in rock, punk, and soul music; meat as building material; and rabbit farming as a sustainable food of the future.
• the controversy about eating seal meat in Canada (and what that has to do with maple syrup)
• the day-to-day life of a livestock veterinarian, the lard vs. butter debate among pie bakers, and that age-old question: What did T. rex taste like?
• how a county fair sow is like Miss America, pig lit, chefs’ pig tattoos, a fake bacon taste test, and much more.
• AND MORE

As you can see, this is interesting to everyone interested in food or ethics and aesthetics of meat. I can easily be a vegan and read this. Moreover, I will most likely be put off meat (or very much drawn to it, haha) after some articles, but in all cases I will gather a better understanding of the world of meat and its elements.

On their press page you can see that they’ve been mentioned in New York Times, GOOD magazine, HuffPo, BBC, Boing Boing, Maclean’s etc.

Oh yeah, yearly subscription is $28 in the US and $34 in Canada. You can buy individual issues too ($7.95 per issue + shipping to wherever you live).

Puss in Boots, or Cougar-aided Prowling

Recently I received a very timely and very handy package from Cougar boots. Just in time for the rainy season, I received two pairs of boots. Rubber “Regal” rain boots, “Ravishing” winter boots, a Cougar mug, sweater and 4 hot chocolate packages.

Unfortunately I haven’t been able to try the hot chocolate as I’ve been on a detox which isn’t friendly to sugary drinks, but I have been appreciating the warm sweater with a cheeky “COUGAR” label on it and the Cougar Boots motto on the back:

For the world you walk on. Love what you wear.

The first thing that I noticed was the packaging. Loved it. Inside were my ravishing boots. They are made out of suede and nylon with polar plush lining inside. They are rated-10°C to -30°C / 14°F to -22°F, meaning I am more than set for the cold Canadian winter (although i’m wholeheartedly hoping that Winter 2010-11 will be as mild as last year’s). They retail for approximately $170 Cdn.

Since there is no real snow to test these boots, I stood in the bath tub filled with several inches of water, splashed about to test them out. No serious injuries occurred. No serious wetness occurred either, which is good news. During winter my biggest worries are the sloshy days when the snow starts to melt and you find yourself wading through puddles of melted snow, salt and dirt (before it freezes the following night). I’ve a good feeling that the Ravishing pair will save me this time.

Now this pair of Regal rain boots was tested in the wild. (By the way, I never had rain boots, so this  Last week we had several days with some rainy forecasts ahead. I put these on. Because they are rated Rated 0°C to -24°C / 32°F to -11°F and because they have polar fleece lining, I was excited about the prospect of keeping my feet warm.

They didn’t disappoint. I was comfortable and warm all day. The only negative feature about them is the springy feeling when walking. Because of the small heel and the fact that they’re made of rubber, they make me hop a little (very, very little). But that’s a subjective issue.

What really sold me on these boots was the fact that few hours later, when I put them on again to step out to run a couple of errands, the soles were STILL warm! Putting on warm boots is always a pleasure. Sold. This particular model retails for $85 CDN and $80 USD. I imagine that similar, smaller rubber boots are constructed in a similar fashion and have similar effects.

Thanks to Matchstick for orchestrating this pleasant fall/winter gift. I will definitely be scoring these boots this fall and winter.

Federico Garcia Lorca – Unpublished Poem (1929)

From Luis Bunuel’s Last Sigh:

“Later, in 1929, he wrote another short poem I love, and which has never been published:

Cielo azul
Campo amarillo
Monte azul
Campo amarillo

Por la llanura desierta
Va caminando un olivo

Un solo
Olivo.”

I am going to memorize it and love it dearly.

On Coffee (excerpt from my 3-pages a day thing)

…

I may also brew more coffee. I am currently drinking an Americano that I purchased from Hula Girl, which is a new rustic-looking coffee shop on the Dundas West strip.  But back to coffee! I recently started to adore coffee for its flavor. Mostly because I discovered the fact that there is so much more to it than Starbucks or Tim Horton’s; I think I discovered a culture. More on that later, but first, a prelude:

Two years ago I decided that Starbucks should go to hell and that I don’t need it in my life; I still avoid it like the plague. It is the second last coffee chain (after Coffee Time – shudder!) for which I will settle. That was that. One year ago I embraced my Ontarian nature (as temporary as I think it is), and started to really like what Tim Horton’s offered. Even the black coffee. That’s actually the only beverage, beside water and green tea, that I will buy and drink from them.

Then I started paying attention to more independent chains. I don’t want to admit, but it really hit me when Dark Horse opened on Spadina (and Sullivan) in Toronto’s Chinatown. It is located in the same building as the Centre for Social Innovation. It is a place with communal tables, a bunch of fair trade blends of coffee, lots of wood, lots of Macbooks and other Apple products, and pretty decent coffee. They don’t take credit cards, like any indie institution, but I can live with that (with a grudge, however). I started patronizing these independent venues. The coffee is certainly better than Starbucks or Tim Horton’s or any other chain. I just wish I lived closer to several independent coffee bars.

September was a completely Americano-crazy month. I craved Americanos not because I needed a caffeine boost, but because I wanted that rich flavor that I could sip slowly. I enjoy a strong coffee that washes over me like a fiery lava. However, my enjoyment decreases in proportion to the amount of Americano I drink. I think a fuller stomach leads to lower receptiveness. Either way, I tend to forget the first couple of sips and move on to greedily consuming the rest of the cup before it gets too cold. Or I forget to consume the rest of it immediately after satisfying my desire for strong coffee flavor that came with the first sips….