Category Archives: Toronto

Hey Rosetta! Serenaded Me

At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

Went to check them out at The Edge studios at Sugar Beach last night and was surprised with how intimate the performance was – there were so few of us there. I’m not complaining at all, I loved having a nearly private performance with one of my favourite live acts ever.

I saw Hey Rosetta! live before hearing any of their recorded stuff and was so impressed with the show they put on that I bought the album the moment I got home. Seriously, they’re that good.

They played an additional song for the crowd (bonus points!) and it was nice, towards the end of it, we all had a little sing along. I got the sense that the band was really enjoying it. I’m glad we all let loose a bit, during their soundcheck, I was commenting to a friend how people at a lot of Toronto shows are lame and stand staring up at the band like zombies. I then busted out a (quick) move. After their final song, they chatted with the fans, super cool band. I got to meet Tim, the lead singer and actually asked for a photo. I never ask celebrities/musicians for photos (Why? You think you’re better than me? Why aren’t you asking for MY photo? I’m dumb.)

Check out the videos from the live session below and if you’re digging them, you can click here and download their live session at the XM Studios from November 2010, for free. And if you’re in the giving mood (and you should be, they just gave you an album!), support USC Canada by leaving them a tip.

Oh, Hi(gh) Park

“I don’t have time.” I can’t believe I’ve finally taken after my mother and have added that into my daily vocabulary. Shudder. But in all honesty, I don’t have a lot of time on my hands right now. I’ve been settling in to my new job (YA. THAT’S RIGHT.) and new apartment (DOUBLE YA. THAT’S RIGHT.)

I’ve been at my job for over a month now and I’m still showing up every morning which is a good sign. I’m looking forward to getting in to the office each day. It feels great to be in a creative environment, where you feel like the opinions you have matter and are actually being heard. Where I’m not ignored or belittled when I see room for improvement and I don’t have to worry about protecting my work. I’m working in a true team environment. It’s so refreshing. It also helps that I’m a big fan of the company – it has to do with music. Sha-wing.

My apartment is so pretty, too. Who knew I’d be able to transform a ‘sad boy’ apartment into such a bright, airy, pretty place. All it took was some paint, pretty bedding, fancy bedframe and a bit of creativity when it came to rearranging the layout a bit. Even my landlord, who came by last night, was surprised at how different it looked. Good job, me. Penny loves it, too.

I was up bright and early on Sunday, ran a few errands and got prettied up for the day ahead. Olgie swung by for coffee (The Good Neighbour, such good lattes), scones (berry and white chocolate from Cobs – TO DIE FOR) and cherry blossoms (High Park Cherry Blossom Festival). Perfect morning. The cherry blossoms were gorgeous, the park was abuzz and we couldn’t have asked for better weather.

I feel that with Spring comes new beginnings. And I truly am starting my new life, right now. I’m over my transition. I’m a different, better, happier person today than I was months ago. Even a year ago. And most importantly, I truly know who I am, what I want and how to get it. I don’t focus on the negative anymore, because I’ve learned how to remove all negativity from my life and continue to move forward. I’m setting goals again, reaching those goals and challenging myself. Spring has sprung, Ivana is awesome.

And now some more pics from the cherry blossom festival.

If it’s for Charity

It can’t be that bad, can it?

Let me backtrack a bit. The month formerly know as November is no longer. The month has been taken over by the female repellent: moustaches, and is now known as the month of Movember. While it sounds like growing a moustache for the month of Movember is all fun and games, it’s serious stuff. The Mo represents your support for testicular and prostate cancer… man cancers… moustaches. The shtick is genius and it’s totally taken off.

I found myself at a Movember event (MoGasm) at the Gladstone earlier this week and met two lovely ladies who work for Movember and got this awesome tee:

Back to my story, met 2 ladies from Movember and after trashing dirty ‘staches for a bit, we discussed how successful the campaign has been year after year. I shared with them that I was a Mo’ Sista in their first year and the only reason I didn’t continue with it was because my Mo’ Bro had decided to keep his moustache indefinitely.

Movember employee, Sonam, was so happy she had met a first year Mo’ supporter. I mean, we are a rare breed. In 2007, when Movember first started, there were only 2,400 Canadian Mo’ Bros and Sistas and they raised about $500,000. 3 years later, over 100,000 people have registered and they’ve raised over $10,000,000 (and there are still about 2 weeks left in the month).

So head over to the website and support ‘stache growth. And ending man cancers. If you have already or aren’t in a position to donate, there are other things you can do. For example, tomorrow is “Have Sex with a Guy with a Moustache” day. For real, you’re not a whore if it’s for charity.

Ca Suffit

I know I haven’t written in a while. I haven’t been feeling inspired lately. I was having trouble finding something to write about (and still am to some degree). For the last little while, I have been feeling like the universe was against me, like the universe had a dead or alive warrant out for me. I don’t want to get into the nitty gritty details because I feel like I’ll just be welcoming more negative energy into my life. But I will share this…

I had a friend over on Friday, she is such a great person, so motivational and made me feel empowered and ready to take on the world. She’s an extremely fit and healthy person and I had admitted to her that while in my rut I had not worked out and found myself watching terrible daytime television day after day. Through this conversation, I had committed to running at least 3 times between last Saturday and this upcoming Saturday. I went for a run yesterday morning and had no plans of running this morning. That was until I caught myself staring out my window discovering that one of my rear tires was flat. Side note: I’m convinced it’s due to stray nails left behind on every street in the city as they’re all under construction. This would be the 3rd time I’ll have to change my tires in the last year and a half. I want this comped! End rant.

So, I recognized the Negative Nancy within coming out and I wanted to nip her arrival in the bud, she often overstays her welcome. I decided to go for an afternoon run. There’s a nice track across the street from my place, I always go there. I arrived with my water bottle and sunglasses in tow and left them on the picnic table as I always do. Off I went on my run. It was nice, relaxing, I felt the stresses of the past week wicking away with every bead of sweat. There were several others around, playing catch with their dogs, there always is, I’m in the Beach, it’s somewhat of a prerequisite to the neighbourhood. Nearing the end of my run, the last man and dog had left, I had my eye on him his entire visit, I got a bad vibe from him. As I was nearing the picnic table where I had placed my Ray Ban’s and water, I got a feeling that something was missing, approaching the table I saw that my Ray Ban’s were no longer there. I found myself heartbroken at first, admitting defeat (clearly Negative Nelly was not entirely out of my system). Seconds later, I felt something come over me, I mean, those glasses weren’t cheap, I wore them nearly every day and heck, you don’t take something from me (or anyone for that matter). So what did I do? I sprinted to catch that man.

I ran up my street and onto Queen frantically searching for this man and his dog. A short time later, I was out of breath and right behind him. What transpired was a release of some pent up anger that was unleashed on a not-so-innocent victim.

Me: “Excuse me, did you happen to pick up a pair of sunglasses from the table at the track.”

Him: “Oh, ummm, why yes I did. Let me see here.”

At this point he’s digging through his bag of thieved goods and I catch myself imagining what other items he has in there. A diamond ring? A Coach purse? A poopy diaper?

Him: “Here you go. I’m so glad someone claimed them. It would be a shame to have lost these.”

Me: “They were not lost. In fact, I purposely wrapped them around my water bottle so no one would assume they were left behind. You know, I thought this was a safe neighbourhood, where I didn’t have to worry about things being stolen from me in front of my own eyes, you, sir, have proven me wrong. I hope you’re happy with yourself and your bag of stolen trinkets.”

And with that, I pivoted and marched on. I mean, who does that? I did think that I should be grateful that he returned my sunglasses and just went on with my life. But no, I wanted him to know that collecting other people’s belongings is not some sort of acceptable quirk. I felt like this was another attempt from the universe to make me cry. You know what, universe? No more tears for you. I kicked your butt today via a thief and I will not have you taking anymore happiness from me.

So there.

Hot like a ________

(fill in the blank).

So holidays are over, everyone’s back to work, well except me. Woke up this morning to work on sending out my resume, learned this cannot be done while plopped in front of a television screen. Not well, at least.

Decided to walk over to my not-so-neighbourhood hot spot, Red Rocket (I will become mayor of that place soon enough, watch your back Kevin. R!). It’s about a half hour walk from my place in the Beach. Did not take into account the extreme heat alert in the city, it feels like 41C today… I’m much too lazy to convert to Fahrenheit for those down below but I’ll tell you this, it’s en fuego, like hotter than the Caribbean hot. However, I felt it was necessary to leave the comfort of my home and the brain-washing, mind numbing grasp of The Tyra Show (which was just about to air and had a pretty good episode lined up).

I realized, my walk to Red Rocket is just awful. Besides the fact that I had swees (sweaty knees), I had decided pants were a good idea, I passed far too many stinky sketch bags, an off-track betting location, a dusty hardware shop – with matching scumbag sitting out front, be sure to look for it next time you’re passing a hardware store – and a gross adult shop – with a gross musty stench to it. Please, Queen St (between Eastern and the TTC compound), clean up your act. It will make me forget the faint sewage smell drifting over from the plant down on Lakeshore. I’ll buy you a coffee if you do (and let you become mayor of Red Rocket on foursquare).

Looking for a Win

I don’t like to lose and I like a good challenge. I’m not a sore loser, I don’t cry about it or throw a fit, but winning does feel better. I was cutting up some watermelon slices last night and had a flashback to a time when I lost… big time.

I was 12, it was summer. My brother and I would normally spend our summers lazying about and waiting for our parents to come home from work so they could take us to our soccer games, that was it. We were never the children who got to go to summer camp, it was never something my parents considered. One morning, my Dad was home from work and gathered my brother and I in his car, he drove us to the Croatian Park. Don’t be frightened, it just a place associated with our local church where we have mass and picnics and play soccer – I’ve taken non-Croatians there, too.

We loved the Croatian Park. There was a pool, we could dig through the Credit River for crayfish and minnows and snails. It was fun. Although, on this day, Dad had something else in mind for us. The Nuns from the church were holding a play day for the kids. I LOVE PLAY DAYS. I mean, who doesn’t love getting dirty, running around, having fun and sometimes, winning.

We were divided into teams (my brother and I were not together) and it was strange but people from my age group seemed to be missing, they were all older or much younger than me. I recall my team members not selecting me to participate in any of the games, until it came to the watermelon eating contest. I mean I wasn’t a chunker but I did like to eat and maybe the haircut I had at the time made my face look a lot fatter. Basically, they thought I would have no problems throwing a large slice of watermelon back. Little did they know…

… I was a picky eater. I loved watermelon, I really did. However, I was spoiled and my parents would buy only seedless watermelon or pick out the black seeds for me. Worry came over my face as I spotted the black seeds in my slice. What was I going to do? There was no time to think or tell someone that I wasn’t going to do well. So I did what I thought would work best, I laid there on my stomach, picking each and every seed out of the melon. Needless to say, I lost. My team was not pleased and I may have been really ashamed of my picky eating habit.

So, having done away with my picky eating years ago, I’m ready to participate in a watermelon eating contest again. I’m going to have a picnic this summer with friends and such. There will be a contest and I may lose but I don’t care, I don’t want to live with this on my shoulders any longer. I’ll announce a date sometime soon so if anyone wants to come, participate, make signs and cheer feel free.

Must start practicing.

Ivana S., Silversmith

I’ve never been very good at arts and crafts. I recall one time in fourth grade art, we were making pumpkins out of construction paper, strips were cut and glued to the background, an inch was to be left between each strip. I remember finishing mine and I can’t say I was please with the outcome. Do you know how difficult it is to cut construction paper with right-handed scissors when you’re left-handed? Needless to say, my artwork was scrutinized and i was told not to rush through my projects. My suggestion of possibly getting some scissors for the one left-handed student wasn’t well received and I continued to struggle through art.
This past Christmas, S bought me a silversmith course at The Devil’s Workshop. It’s a great place! I took part in a 7 week course in which I got to create two projects. One, a ring:

It’s made of brass and a yellow beryl gemstone. I made it entirely from scratch and am so proud of it. The band has this great texture, I had hammered it all around, so it looks dented, like this. Hmmm, I wonder if I can charge something like that for this ring? Perhaps if it were made of gold and my last name was Picasso.

The second project,  a necklace, is my favourite. This one took a bit more time, as expressed earlier in this post, I’m not very good with scissors, can you imagine me with a saw? However, I had surprised even myself, I wasn’t half bad at it (I won’t even point out the mistake I may have made). I didn’t realize when I had chosen this design how difficult it could be. The design itself is fairly simple, take a look:

You like? Doesn’t my iPhone take half decent photos? I had to solder all of those leaves onto the piece of wire but it was challenging as heck. Imagine trying to place a piece of metal about a millimeter around  (ever so gently) on top of each of those leaves as they sit next to (not yet affixed) the wire branch. Breathing was not allowed, as I learned, after blowing them away on several occasions. And a steady hand is so important, I think I have the early stages of my Baka’s (Grandma’s) shaky hand syndrome. Nooo!

You can’t tell in this photo but the bird and branch are one piece now and sit on a lovely silver chain that goes down to my ribs. It’s fabulous and I’m wearing it right now and almost every day since I had finished it.

If you’re in Toronto and looking for great jewelry making classes or to buy some great original, handmade jewelry, check out The Devil’s Workshop. Sarah, my instructor, is great, super creative and extremely patient. Class sizes are small, about 6, so it almost feels like a personal class.

And if you’re getting married and want to add a great personal touch to the event, there’s a class available for you. You’ll both create wedding bands. How awesome is that?

Now that I’ve proven to myself that I can in fact make something artsy, I think I can finally let go of my fourth grade art class complex.

Opening Day

The temperature is rising, the grass has started getting green and flowers are blooming, baseball season must be starting. S and I flew out to Boston, MA (he’s a big baseball fan, I’m a fan of entertainment) for the Red Sox home opener against the Yankees. Yes, one of the biggest and longest running feuds in sporting history. S was pumped for the 2010 baseball season especially since our home team – the Toronto Blue Jays – have been on an on-the-road winning streak so early in the season.

We walked to Fenway Park a bit early to grab some street meat and check out the sights, I was secretly hoping to find somewhere to get my face painted and get into spirit, I was concerned my dress, DVF silk scarf and red lipstick had me sticking out like a sore thumb. It did. This was the scene before us:

I don’t think I’ve ever seen nearly everyone in attendance at a sporting event dressed in their favourite team’s merchandise. I loved it.

I must admit, my baseball knowledge is minimal at best. Everything I know about the Bo Sox came from Fever Pitch. I was ashamed to admit it to any of the surrounding Red Sox fans but once we got on topic, I learned that they all loved the movie, too. Coolio.

The game was one of the most entertaining games I’ve ever been to. It was suspenseful, one inning I thought the game was over, the next I knew they had the game in the bag. For the record, the Red Sox won 9-7. The cherry on the sundae for me during this game? Neil Diamond singing Sweet Caroline in the 8th inning. Like, the real Neil Diamond. What a dream. I tried to record it for you folks, but was too excited, couldn’t hold the camera still and thought enjoying the moment myself was most important, sorry!

Fast forward, days after our return, our very own Blue Jays had their home opener. S went on his own as no more than single tickets were available. The Jays played to a sold out crowd – 46,321 people to be exact – unfortunately they lost to the White Sox, le sigh. S, mentioned an article to me, in which newly acquired White Sox player, Alex Rios, who played for the Jays up until late last season bashed Toronto, the Jay and the fans. Saying we’re so hockey crazy that there’s no room for the MLB here. I will agree with him that the attendance post home opener was poor, piss poor, embarrassingly poor but I still think that we have a spot for baseball in this city.

Attendance isn’t poor because we’re losing, because the Leafs have been selling out for decades now and they haven’t won a Stanley Cup in, ummm… almost forever. Same goes for the Raptors and the Toronto FC but people keep coming to these events. Attendance is poor because we don’t stand a chance.

Let me explain. I don’t think the Jays will ever get back to the days of ’92 – ’93 and I think one of the reason’s why is because the Jays budget can’t compete with that of the Red Sox or Yankees, who both spent roughly $200 million in the 2009 season vs. the Jays measly $60 million budget. These top spending teams can go out each and every season and buy the 5 best pitchers in the league and with that guarantee themselves a spot in the playoffs.

Unfortunately, the MLB doesn’t have a salary cap like the NHL and until that happens, teams with the big budgets will trump every other team, it’s doubtful that there will be any surprises in the playoffs this season, none of the teams with smaller budgets will make the playoffs.

At least with leagues like the NHL the Leafs have a fighting chance in winning the Stanley Cup. Perhaps knowing that we stand a chance is why people keep coming back for more season after season.

Alright, that’s enough of that

Again with the bashing.

I have half a mind to flag all of the comments following that story as inappropriate.

Although, I’m sure if Vancouver fans saw the commercial that plays prior to each Leafs home game, which depicts the Leafs as “Canada’s Team” and “the only Canadian hockey team with 6 home arenas” there’d be more where this latest article came from.

Come on, boys. Shut these Vancouver folk up and win a game already! You’re making it too easy for them.

p.s. Go Yankees!

Blisters for Boobies

Remember a while back, I was desperately seeking donors to support me in my walk for breast cancer, benefiting The Princess Margaret Hospital (which happens to be one of the top 5 hospitals for cancer research… in the world). Through numerous (desperation soaked) emails to friends and several fund raising events at the office, I met and (just barely) exceeded my goal.

The walk took place this weekend, starting at the Direct Energy Centre aka Exhibition Place, day one ending at Downsview Park and back again the next day, totaling 60 km (just over 37 m for those of you down south).

When I had first registered for this event, I was told that training was important. I thought, who needs to train for a walk? Nonetheless, I had gone out for a few long walks to prepare. One of my first attempts was walking home from work and although I did make it home in 2 hours, I was hit by a car. Nothing dramatic that required medical attention, a man had reversed his car and failed to see me, then failed to apologize for hitting me.

Team Harlequin met at 7am to get ready for the opening ceremonies. It was amazing to see a crowd of 4,616 walkers work together to raise over $11 million dollars for womens’ cancer research.
Opening Ceremonies

I really didn’t know what I was getting into, I didn’t know what an emotionally and physically draining experience this was going to be. Those who know me well, know that I’m a crier. And boy did I have the water works on high this weekend. This walk challenged me, from the very beginning it challenged me to get creative – baking over 100 cupcakes for a fundraiser and through to the very end it challenged me to push myself and not give up.

Day 1 went well, I had excellent company which helped make the 30+ km walk go by quickly. As did games like, spot the nearest Starbucks to nurse my caffeine withdrawal headache and get to know you better questions such as, if you could own any kind of business, what would it be? Just so you know, I’d own a wonderful little cafe along the coast (east or west, just gimme water) where I’d make gourmet sandwiches and desserts and coffee, play the music I want to hear and sell locally made artisan crafts, art and jewelry.

We made it to camp around 6pm and I dug right into the free booze (thanks Steam Whitsle and Yellowtail!) and dinner. Come night, only 5 of the 9 team members staying overnight made it past dinner. We got to know each other better, chatting the night away over a few beers before I retired to my tent.

Day 2 started early, I arose at 4 am (thanks to the early birds in the tent next to me) and spent a good hour stretching out my sore feet, ate breakfast and packed up before our 30 km trek back home. My Day 1 walking mates had gone home (they were participating in the one-day walk), so I rejoined the rest of Team Harlequin. Day 2 took us through downtown and I was looking forward to possibly spotting some celebs as TIFF was going on. I was hoping we could get some stargazing done – in the least obvious way possible. Although I didn’t spot anyone, I could have cared less, the only thing that concerned me at that point was the monstrous blister that had formed on my heel and had caused a limp in my step. Ack!

I had one breaking point, it was after lunch on day 2, the limp was taking a lot out of me, it was hot as heck and my mind was playing games with me. I was ready to call it quits and have one of the sweep vehicles pick me up and take me to the finish line. It was at that point that I spotted a man and his daughter sitting out front their apartment and clapping for us, saying, “Thank you!”. I was overcome with emotion, tears began to fall and I got my second wind back.

Crossing the finish line, was amazing. Boy and Olgie were waiting for me, cheering me on and the waterworks were on again. I even made it on the local news, even if it was for 2.43 seconds (click on news from Sunday September 13th and skip to the 11:47 mark – I’m in the pink tank top and the next shot is of my team members).

This past weekend was a life changing experience. Whether it was at the opening ceremonies when friends and family members of those who had fallen victim to breast cancer were carrying the running shoes their loved ones were to wear on the walk before cancer had claimed their lives. Or walking down King St. in Weston, where a loving community was very much alive. This street was lined with neighbours supporting us some with a hose to give us a light mist on a hot day and others with watermelon slices, lemonade, chocolate, applause and even… shots of beer. Walking through Downsview, where cute Italian families handed out freezies, pannetone, popsicles and fresh fruit.

The most inspiring part of this walk was having breast cancer survivors cheering us on and holding signs saying, “I’m alive because of you”. It’s so overwhelming. People thanking me for raising money and walking 60 km? It seems so bizarre to me. Needless to say, I cried a lot, laughed loads, shared stories and am really proud of myself for completing the entire 60 km. Congrats to all who participated.

Here are a few more photos from the weekend:

A clever sign an optometrist had up for us.

A clever sign an optometrist had up for us.

My favourite team logo... so hilariously creative

My favourite team logo... so hilariously creative

Me, Tripetripeandmoretripe.blogspot.com, and another friend at the pirate pit stop.

Me, Tripetripeandmoretripe.blogspot.com, and another friend at the pirate pit stop.

Team Harlequin heading toward the finish line

Team Harlequin heading toward the finish line

Thanks again to everyone who supported me in my walk. I really appreciate your help and thank you for giving me the opportunity to experience this.