Alison came by last week and watched Tampopo with me on Sunday night. I quickly tidied up the flat, forgetting to remove photos of my ex, and during which time my freshly laundered duvet cover that had faithfully served me for 13 years and had witnessed the antics of 2 girlfriends decided to give up the ghost. I was dressing the duvet when I noticed a tear. The tear grew and grew as I fitted the duvet. It almost never met Alison, but on its deathbed, she came to visit and reassure it. Later, we went to bed and every time we tried to move beneath the duvet, a great ripping sound could be heard. Alison was slowly killing the duvet, happily. It was a nice deep purple number with counterwoven lengthwise stripes. It was from Portugal and it cost a student a lot of money back then. I went out the next day after work and bought a new duvet cover, this time in a light blue-greyish colour, but with counterwoven stripes, and a new pillow just because. I went by Alison's workplace and picked up a ficelle and some Gjetost cheese, a little surprise for Ali. I was also surprised, at how hungry she was after work. She came back and we watched Tampopo again because she had fallen asleep the first time and couldn't really understand the film anyway. I craved noodles for days afterward.
Wednesday evening, I made my special noodle recipe, a variation of a recipe Sissy had given me, but she'll deny it. My recipe has four ingredients: pasta (spaghetti or buccatini is preferred), onion, olive oil, salt (as you like), and parmesan or romano cheese (optional). I made enough for two rationally sized portions, ate one and saved the other for Alison. She was working that night and I had a feeling that she would skip her break and go without food. I was on eggshells - was the pasta al dente? Did I caramelize the onions sufficiently? Was the dream of Chez Dax finally coming true? One bite, and I knew. It was perfect. Ali's face said it all. She asked where I learned to cook so well, and I told her it was because she was eating with my magic fork. It makes everything taste good. She only ate a few bites and took the rest home with her.
It wasn't enough. Thursday after class I toyed with the idea of going to Orange Peel's restaurant for Thai, but Alison was busy so I couldn't justify making the trip by myself. A new discovery that one can turn left onto Main St. when exiting the viaduct helped me decide where to go next. I went to a pasta place in a really dodgy part of town that unfortunately is too famous for its own good. I lucked out and caught it on a quiet night. It's really known for its pizza, but the pasta is good too. You have to really like pasta and want it bad enough to dodge the crack heads and car thieves to get to this place. I always thought it was relatively unknown until I went there last. It was packed and we had to wait for a half hour to get a cramped table. On Thursday it was quiet, but I have to say that I'd never been around so many lesbians since Lilith Fair. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I ordered spaghetti with mushrooms in a cream sauce, and was a little disappointed. I'm used to mushrooms in oil, and I guess the cream softened the taste. Baby was getting scared even though she was in plain sight of the window, so I ate my noodles as fast as I could and left.
Friday night, I went out for noodles again. This time, Alison and I went to Zefferelli's. It's a little hard to find only because it's not on street level and it's entrance is sort of hidden by the polyeurethane-enveloped patio of a second rather loud and obnoxious restaurant. At Zeff's, you're always guaranteed a good meal. After buying some new trendy, foot-torturing shoes, we went upstairs. The exposed wooden floors tell you right away that you're home. We didn't have a reservation, so it was a little bit of a problem. In the end, there was no wait and we got a nice corner table near the window. The waitress rattled off about twenty different items and I knew that Alison wouldn't be able to understand so I tried my best to remember everything. I did it, my elephant brain never forgets food. We skipped the daily items and started with a Cesar salad, a pale ale for me and a Capri for Alison. She was drunk halfway through her cocktail, likely due to a lack of food consumption, and then we moved on to the main course. Ali had penne Alfredo with broccoli and I had buccatini with sausage and mushrooms. Buccatini is my new favourite noodle. We only ate half and took the rest per domani. I walked Alison home, the two of us trying to stay dry under one umbrella. She did a good job to stay close. Eeeeee! I shlepped the food containers from Wednesday night, my Starbucks travel mug, my leftovers, some soy-flavoured baka crackers, and my new shoes home in the freezing rain, all the while trying to wrangle an umbrella. The only thing that pulled me through was Copacabana, Junior Murvin, Outkast and Feist among others on my iPod. I narrowly avoided an ugly incident with a woman and a baby stroller who felt that she was entitled to the entire, very spacious sidewalk in front of Tony Roma's but instead she forced me onto the street and into oncoming traffic, causing me to tip my brolly and soak her accidentally...
My hair is looking very unruly these days, so I dropped off some drycleaning and went for a cut and a wax today. I don't remember the sting being so harsh before. Trey was in a hurry I guess. He does a good job, so I tried my best not to scream. I bumped into a coworker from the last appointment yesterday. The new Layer Cake fan. He told me that he can't get a copy anywhere, but that people keep telling him its a great film. I'd like to think that perhaps I had something to do with that, but I probably don't. It really is a great film.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Sunday, January 15, 2006
I'll Have a Green Salad with my Crow, Please
I woke up with the faint taste of blood in the back of my throat this morning, which usually means a bloody nose. I thought Alison had done it, but realized that she hadn't hit me in the face for some time. I spent the weekend having a panic attack. I couldn't find my iPod Shuffle. Don't laugh, it was free with every test drive of a Jeep Cherokee, and I like it. I ripped the flat apart twice looking for the iPod. You'd think that at some point during the 48 hour panic, I'd tidy the place, but no. I just shifted the mess from one spot to another, and took a break last night to watch a movie...
A while back, I commented on a movie expressing disappointment that it was animated. I guess what I really wanted to say was that it wasn't what I expected. That's because it was a completely different film. Ichi the Killer is a live action film based on a comic. Ichi 0 is an animated version of Ichi the Killer, and Ichi 1 (or 1-Ichi) is the film I expected to see that night. I saw it tonight and this time it was what I expected.
I went to the video shop and walked into a conversation between the clerk and a guy looking for a movie about missing Argentinian children. Naturally I said "Los desaperecidos", though it had occurred to me that perhaps that was not the correct title. I thumbed through the Argentinian section and came back with The Official Story, but that turned out not to be the one I was looking for, nor the one I had seen 14 years ago as part of a Latin American Studies Department field trip. I really wish I could remember the name of that film, both for the guy who probably went home empty handed, and for myself because I want to see that again one day soon.
Back to Ichi 1 - There was a lot of leeway given to this film, given that it was based purely on fiction. Thirtysomethings playing highschool students, a school with no teachers, its all plausible if you account for creative licence. The movie gives the back story of Ichi the Killer, but not all of it. Ichi was just a normal teenager except that he was sexually aroused by extreme violence. The thing is that he didn't like violence. He would cry if anyone tried to pick a fight with him. In a school rivalry, Ichi is targeted because he is mistakenly believed to be a close friend of his school's fighting champion. After being used as a human catching mitt, Ichi goes nuts and decimates the rival group - no witnesses except one. That witness transfers to Ichi's school and establishes a name for himself: Onizame - a wicked little fucker, played convincingly by Koji Chihara. I wonder if he'd be interested in doing some work in a little independent film I've been working on. The film also sees the return of Nao Omori as Ichi, and a one-named star named Teah as Dai, the school champion. I'm guessing this guy isn't Japanese because in the director's interview he explains that Teah can't read Kanji. I'd sure like to see more of his movies. Pity there aren't too many. There are also a couple of girls in the movie who play the love interests of Dai and his buddies. I couldn't help but hope that Alison wasn't vacant like that in school.
Dai and his buddies add a little comic relief as they debate the importance of trilogies. Dai loves the third part of any series because it is self-explanatory, but one of his cronies says that it is essential to watch parts one and two as well. Of course, I'm laughing my ass off because the joke is that there is no part 3 to the Ichi series. In director Masato Tanno's interview alongside Taskashi Miike, it is explained that Ichi creator Hideo Yamamoto had abandoned the project, so I'm guessing that's it for Ichi - the story has been told. In the end, after getting his cranium crushed by Ichi, Onizame is killed and Dai witnesses the whole thing and begs Ichi to also kill his broken body. It's like sex for Ichi, so of course...
I liked this film a bit more than Ichi the Killer I guess because the shock value had been diminished, but it really does fill in some of the mystery of Ichi the Killer. I feel that there is still room for a fourth film detailing the rest of the back story before high school, but I guess Miike figured that stuff wasn't worth putting in the film.
A while back, I commented on a movie expressing disappointment that it was animated. I guess what I really wanted to say was that it wasn't what I expected. That's because it was a completely different film. Ichi the Killer is a live action film based on a comic. Ichi 0 is an animated version of Ichi the Killer, and Ichi 1 (or 1-Ichi) is the film I expected to see that night. I saw it tonight and this time it was what I expected.
I went to the video shop and walked into a conversation between the clerk and a guy looking for a movie about missing Argentinian children. Naturally I said "Los desaperecidos", though it had occurred to me that perhaps that was not the correct title. I thumbed through the Argentinian section and came back with The Official Story, but that turned out not to be the one I was looking for, nor the one I had seen 14 years ago as part of a Latin American Studies Department field trip. I really wish I could remember the name of that film, both for the guy who probably went home empty handed, and for myself because I want to see that again one day soon.
Back to Ichi 1 - There was a lot of leeway given to this film, given that it was based purely on fiction. Thirtysomethings playing highschool students, a school with no teachers, its all plausible if you account for creative licence. The movie gives the back story of Ichi the Killer, but not all of it. Ichi was just a normal teenager except that he was sexually aroused by extreme violence. The thing is that he didn't like violence. He would cry if anyone tried to pick a fight with him. In a school rivalry, Ichi is targeted because he is mistakenly believed to be a close friend of his school's fighting champion. After being used as a human catching mitt, Ichi goes nuts and decimates the rival group - no witnesses except one. That witness transfers to Ichi's school and establishes a name for himself: Onizame - a wicked little fucker, played convincingly by Koji Chihara. I wonder if he'd be interested in doing some work in a little independent film I've been working on. The film also sees the return of Nao Omori as Ichi, and a one-named star named Teah as Dai, the school champion. I'm guessing this guy isn't Japanese because in the director's interview he explains that Teah can't read Kanji. I'd sure like to see more of his movies. Pity there aren't too many. There are also a couple of girls in the movie who play the love interests of Dai and his buddies. I couldn't help but hope that Alison wasn't vacant like that in school.
Dai and his buddies add a little comic relief as they debate the importance of trilogies. Dai loves the third part of any series because it is self-explanatory, but one of his cronies says that it is essential to watch parts one and two as well. Of course, I'm laughing my ass off because the joke is that there is no part 3 to the Ichi series. In director Masato Tanno's interview alongside Taskashi Miike, it is explained that Ichi creator Hideo Yamamoto had abandoned the project, so I'm guessing that's it for Ichi - the story has been told. In the end, after getting his cranium crushed by Ichi, Onizame is killed and Dai witnesses the whole thing and begs Ichi to also kill his broken body. It's like sex for Ichi, so of course...
I liked this film a bit more than Ichi the Killer I guess because the shock value had been diminished, but it really does fill in some of the mystery of Ichi the Killer. I feel that there is still room for a fourth film detailing the rest of the back story before high school, but I guess Miike figured that stuff wasn't worth putting in the film.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
The White Countess
Let's put the Ralph bashing aside for a few minutes. Last night I saw The White Countess starring Ralph Fiennes among others. When I first heard about this movie, I thought that it involved a heroin episode but it doesn't. The closest thing to taking drugs in this film was alcohol. It was the opening night for wide release of this film, and I figured that since I had a steady job again I could at least fork out some dosh for a movie. I've made an art form out of the moviegoing experience. I don't mean the movie itself, that's usually art already but I mean the going to the movie. Precision moviegoing has its pros and its cons, the biggest variable being the queue, but a seasoned precision moviegoer will make allowances for that. I was one of the last people into the theatre, and therefore relegated to sitting in the third row which was completely empty until I sat in it. Nobody sat in the first two rows. It was nearly impossible to see the entire screen without craning my neck to a 150 degree angle, unless I slouched right down in the seat and cocked my head to the side and watched the movie on the bias, sort of sideways sort of not. That worked except for trying to drink the steaming hot coffee that the cinema absurdly sells. Since when do hot liquids and dark vaults mix?
Since I arrived late, I missed most of the previews but I did catch one or two but I can't remember what they were. Precision moviegoing also requires that viewers have a contingency plan, in case the tickets for the film they want to see are sold out. I had Mrs. Henderson Presents as my backup, Casanova as my backup backup and Rumour Has It running a distant fourth. I want to watch the first two with Ayako so it looked like Rumour Has It was a dark horse, but luckily I could still get a ticket for The White Countess.
This is the first Ivory Merchant film I've seen since the death of Ismail Merchant, and I could almost say that its the first Ivory Merchant film I've ever seen except for Maurice which my dad rented after I told him it was a "period piece" even though I told him a lot more, that was all he heard. Needless to say, it was an awkward evening. And then of course, I saw Pather Panchali which Ivory Merchant distributed in the restored version. I thought I was in for a treat after discovering the Ivory Merchant connection, but then my ears were assaulted by a ringtone. Some people are so rude. In fact, though I didn't see it, this particular cinema reminds people to turn off their cell phones. Halfway through Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, the woman answered her phone. A sidelong glance from me and a "Fuuuuuuuuck" under my breath prompted her to take the call outside.
That ugliness over, the film opens with a man and a woman dancing in a ballroom. Nice. As I said, the film stars Ralph Fiennes, who's had a banner year in 2005, and a cast stocked with other stars such as Natasha Richardson whom I first saw in The Handmaid's Tale, but also Vanessa Redgrave, Lynn Redgrave, Allan Corduner, Lee Pace and last but hardly least Hiroyuki Sanada. Ayako told me that Sanada is a very famous actor from The Last Samurai, a film I doubtless missed due to the appearance of Tom Cruise therein. The film takes place in 1930s Shanghai during the time that Japan was occupying northern China, Communists are beginning to show their numbers and Russian imperialists find refuge in exile. I like pieces set in the 1930s. That's why I like David Suchet's portrayal of Hercule Poirot, and the memorable miniseries Tanamera - Lion of Singapore, a story actually set in the late 30s and early 40s. Eeeeeee! I must try to find it on DVD.
The movie is about an American diplomat who has lost his sight and somehow, we don't really know, ends up in Shanghai. He is growing tired of business and wants to go on his own, opening the perfect club. He places a bet on a horse and make enough dosh to open a club "The White Countess" as he imagines it in his mind. Natasha Richardson, a Russian aristocrat making her living as a private dancer is hired by Fiennes' character - Todd Jackson to be the club hostess. Sanada plays Matsuda, a Japanese expansionist who for some reason admires the idea of a perfect club, and helps Jackson add the missing element: political intrigue. The club hosts acts like Russian harlequins and singers as well as Chinese acts, quite a nice place I imagine. The whole movie plays on the dichotomy between what is happening in the real world against what happens in the worlds of imagination. Jackson doesn't give a fling about the fact that Japanese troops are steadily closing in on Shanghai. The Russian Countess' family is trying to flee to Hong Kong, and eventually ditches her in Shanghai after they don't need her. Matsuda comes to the club, now empty except for a few alcoholics, to encourage Jackson that he must now abandon his perfect little world and find the Countess, his one last chance at happiness. Jackson stumbles through the chaos to the harbour where the Russian tailor, the Countess' landlord finds him and leads him to her and her daughter. They all leave Shanghai on a boat to Macao.
That brief description illustrates the tight schedule I was under last night. I had planned to see Ayako at work and have coffee, but as usual that plan went to shit. I went down to the shop, and Ayako told me she was going to skip her break and skive off early. I didn't want to occupy her time anymore after 4 straight days, but then there was an unfortunate incident with Alphonse. While I was in the shop skipping dinner opting for dessert instead, Alphonse walked in. Always one to make a scene, he went up one side of me and down the other, totally dressing me down so that the whole store could hear, but only maybe three people could understand. I returned his French insults, only making him more angry which made his boyfriend get up in my face. No. This was too much. The boyfriend was a total stranger and wasn't really defending Alphonse as he was baiting me. So what was I supposed to do? Any sort of response would bring a "gay bashing" accusation, and there was no way I would walk out alive in that neighbourhood, so I didn't say anything. I let security bounce them.
Soon after, Ayako joined me at the table and we talked. She had wanted to leave the shop early, but after spending time to talk to me and laugh herself silly, she ending up staying later than if she had worked to the end of her shift. We walked around town looking for a sake bar I thought I knew. I was wasting her early night shlepping around downtown looking for a suitable bar. It turns out that we probably walked past it like twice, and that after figuring out the name Ayako said that she had been there twice before. It was too late now, and we both wanted to get home. I mentioned to Ayako that I write about her on my blog. She said that is okay as long as I don't use her real name. So from now on, She will be known as Alison. We walked to her place and that was that. I don't get it sometimes. Half the time we were together, she kept touching my bum which isn't as peachy as it used to be (she told me so), but I couldn't even get a kiss at the door. What's up with that?
Since I arrived late, I missed most of the previews but I did catch one or two but I can't remember what they were. Precision moviegoing also requires that viewers have a contingency plan, in case the tickets for the film they want to see are sold out. I had Mrs. Henderson Presents as my backup, Casanova as my backup backup and Rumour Has It running a distant fourth. I want to watch the first two with Ayako so it looked like Rumour Has It was a dark horse, but luckily I could still get a ticket for The White Countess.
This is the first Ivory Merchant film I've seen since the death of Ismail Merchant, and I could almost say that its the first Ivory Merchant film I've ever seen except for Maurice which my dad rented after I told him it was a "period piece" even though I told him a lot more, that was all he heard. Needless to say, it was an awkward evening. And then of course, I saw Pather Panchali which Ivory Merchant distributed in the restored version. I thought I was in for a treat after discovering the Ivory Merchant connection, but then my ears were assaulted by a ringtone. Some people are so rude. In fact, though I didn't see it, this particular cinema reminds people to turn off their cell phones. Halfway through Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, the woman answered her phone. A sidelong glance from me and a "Fuuuuuuuuck" under my breath prompted her to take the call outside.
That ugliness over, the film opens with a man and a woman dancing in a ballroom. Nice. As I said, the film stars Ralph Fiennes, who's had a banner year in 2005, and a cast stocked with other stars such as Natasha Richardson whom I first saw in The Handmaid's Tale, but also Vanessa Redgrave, Lynn Redgrave, Allan Corduner, Lee Pace and last but hardly least Hiroyuki Sanada. Ayako told me that Sanada is a very famous actor from The Last Samurai, a film I doubtless missed due to the appearance of Tom Cruise therein. The film takes place in 1930s Shanghai during the time that Japan was occupying northern China, Communists are beginning to show their numbers and Russian imperialists find refuge in exile. I like pieces set in the 1930s. That's why I like David Suchet's portrayal of Hercule Poirot, and the memorable miniseries Tanamera - Lion of Singapore, a story actually set in the late 30s and early 40s. Eeeeeee! I must try to find it on DVD.
The movie is about an American diplomat who has lost his sight and somehow, we don't really know, ends up in Shanghai. He is growing tired of business and wants to go on his own, opening the perfect club. He places a bet on a horse and make enough dosh to open a club "The White Countess" as he imagines it in his mind. Natasha Richardson, a Russian aristocrat making her living as a private dancer is hired by Fiennes' character - Todd Jackson to be the club hostess. Sanada plays Matsuda, a Japanese expansionist who for some reason admires the idea of a perfect club, and helps Jackson add the missing element: political intrigue. The club hosts acts like Russian harlequins and singers as well as Chinese acts, quite a nice place I imagine. The whole movie plays on the dichotomy between what is happening in the real world against what happens in the worlds of imagination. Jackson doesn't give a fling about the fact that Japanese troops are steadily closing in on Shanghai. The Russian Countess' family is trying to flee to Hong Kong, and eventually ditches her in Shanghai after they don't need her. Matsuda comes to the club, now empty except for a few alcoholics, to encourage Jackson that he must now abandon his perfect little world and find the Countess, his one last chance at happiness. Jackson stumbles through the chaos to the harbour where the Russian tailor, the Countess' landlord finds him and leads him to her and her daughter. They all leave Shanghai on a boat to Macao.
That brief description illustrates the tight schedule I was under last night. I had planned to see Ayako at work and have coffee, but as usual that plan went to shit. I went down to the shop, and Ayako told me she was going to skip her break and skive off early. I didn't want to occupy her time anymore after 4 straight days, but then there was an unfortunate incident with Alphonse. While I was in the shop skipping dinner opting for dessert instead, Alphonse walked in. Always one to make a scene, he went up one side of me and down the other, totally dressing me down so that the whole store could hear, but only maybe three people could understand. I returned his French insults, only making him more angry which made his boyfriend get up in my face. No. This was too much. The boyfriend was a total stranger and wasn't really defending Alphonse as he was baiting me. So what was I supposed to do? Any sort of response would bring a "gay bashing" accusation, and there was no way I would walk out alive in that neighbourhood, so I didn't say anything. I let security bounce them.
Soon after, Ayako joined me at the table and we talked. She had wanted to leave the shop early, but after spending time to talk to me and laugh herself silly, she ending up staying later than if she had worked to the end of her shift. We walked around town looking for a sake bar I thought I knew. I was wasting her early night shlepping around downtown looking for a suitable bar. It turns out that we probably walked past it like twice, and that after figuring out the name Ayako said that she had been there twice before. It was too late now, and we both wanted to get home. I mentioned to Ayako that I write about her on my blog. She said that is okay as long as I don't use her real name. So from now on, She will be known as Alison. We walked to her place and that was that. I don't get it sometimes. Half the time we were together, she kept touching my bum which isn't as peachy as it used to be (she told me so), but I couldn't even get a kiss at the door. What's up with that?
Friday, January 13, 2006
It Wouldn't Hurt, Would It?
Things have been getting busier and busier lately, and just when you expect things to quiet down a bit, more stuff gets added to the plate. Since New Year's, I've stuffed myself like a pig a few times over which is fitting because I happen to live in a sty right now. After work, the decision-making process goes a little like this: clean house or go out? Well, its a rather unfair choice because I'd pick going out every time which explains why the flat is like a sty.
I went back to the dessert place that has a 30 minute time limit, but it was completely different during the week. Empty, no worries about overstaying our welcome. Ayako and I took 2 zucotti which translates into English as crown, as in the top of one's head. It was good. Chocolate icing on chocolate cake with hazelnut cream stuffed in the centre of the cake which is done in the shape of a bowl, hence the skull. I was trying to be spontaneous and I think I pulled it off. The place was completely different than the last time we went. The only bad part about the evening was that a group of six crammed around a table fit for two and it must have been the first time they'd ever seen cake because they shit themselves with excitement. They had to whip out their digital cameras and take a zillion pictures, and when a piece of cake toppled on its side they acted like it was a freaking catastrophe. The place is back lit and the tables have little cabaret lamps to create an ambiance for groups looking for a place to wind down after a great night out to dinner or the theatre, but this group couldn't be quiet for a second. I almost said something, but I was having too much fun with Ayako.
We went out for dessert again last night to a different place on the condition that we share one piece. I didn't tell Ayako that each piece of cake at this place is about 3 times the size of a normal piece of cake. We had a lemon cake, and listened to Blue Monday by Blue Order, or at least the bass notes because the place was so loud. I tried to explain the history of New Order and Joy Division to Ayako, as well as give her a brief introduction to Public Enemy all the while trying to read through her Japanese phrase book, but I have a tendency to overload information. I'll have to explain the importance of Public Enemy another time, but I'm pretty sure Ayako understood the part about Ian Curtis.
I got my giftee from Lola earlier this week. The Great Switcheroo by Roald Dahl. I haven't read it yet but it is "a decidedly adult fable" according to the summary on the reverse side of the jacket. Expectations.
So my New Year's was good, but I had the wrong idea. For some reason, I thought that K-Bear had arranged tickets for a private party, but it was actually his girlfriend, Trapeze Girl who did the arranging and we ended up doing something completely different. We ended up at a dessert cafe, what a coincidence! It was good to see them, but the movie is off again. Now K-Bear wants me to put Trapeze Girl in the film before he'll sign the contract, and there's always the question of financing.
I left the job at the engineering firm and took the position at the ad firm. I really didn't want to leave the other place, but the new place offered me a bigger piece of pie and I managed to interest someone new in Layer Cake so it was a net positive in the end. It's so refreshing to work in a creative environment. This is the place where the receptionist was walking around with bare feet when I showed up for my interview. When I showed up for work on Monday, I was blinded by a sea of earthtone turtlenecks and power frames. They figured I was an auditor because I was dressed in a suit. Nothing special, collezione Zegna 1997, but when I clean up I clean up. I can't do anything about the pasty complexion, but that will be sorted soon enough. The sudden change was only momentary as I realized how great it felt to be part of a corporate culture that embraces the soul patch. Among other perks, Kraftwerk is broadcast throughout the top three floors of the building, and all the company officers drive Audis. It is a sight to behold watching them pull into the garage in the morning with the faint trance of The Robots or Aero Dynamik off in the distance.
There is a window, its not right in front of me, but all I have to do is turn my head 90 degrees to see outside. I haven't been able to do that in 6 years. I work with identical twins who have their own language. It's English, but nobody understands them. One of them is training me, and she goes about 90 miles an hour. I asked her if she drinks Red Bull, but she said no, so I guess she eats pep pills by the bowlful in the morning. A lot of f-bombs get dropped in the office and there are a lot of introverts in the creative department, but I've never worked in a place with so much eye candy, which makes lunch hour fun. My department co-workers spend lunch playing cards for money, so I slink off to the kitchen and watch Oprah. I haven't seen my soaps in about three weeks. I tried watching one yesterday on lunch but the story lines had changed so drastically, that it hurt to watch.
The boss flew in from Montreal for a departmental meeting, and since I was the new guy I had to sing. My go to song is Brass in Pocket by The Pretenders, but I quickly realized that this probably wasn't the right time for Chrissy Hind, and perhaps a little too abstract considering that my new boss and I had only just met and there was no context. Brass in Pocket really only works when you've drawn the short straw at the company karaoke function, and out of spite you decide to expand your homophobic boss' mind. A word with the compere, and before your boss, who thinks you're gay anyway, can figure out what is happening, you're prancing around the bar with a microphone pointing at him, explaining how you're going to make him see that you're special, so special. But that was so last year. Instead, I went with Michael Sembello's Maniac. It seemed fitting at the time seeing as how I was wearing leg warmers and there was just too much room on the frosted glass tabletop. Afterall, I work at a creative firm now and the worst that could happen would be a few raised eyebrows, and they did tell me I had to sing. It wouldn't hurt to be more specific now and then, would it?
I went back to the dessert place that has a 30 minute time limit, but it was completely different during the week. Empty, no worries about overstaying our welcome. Ayako and I took 2 zucotti which translates into English as crown, as in the top of one's head. It was good. Chocolate icing on chocolate cake with hazelnut cream stuffed in the centre of the cake which is done in the shape of a bowl, hence the skull. I was trying to be spontaneous and I think I pulled it off. The place was completely different than the last time we went. The only bad part about the evening was that a group of six crammed around a table fit for two and it must have been the first time they'd ever seen cake because they shit themselves with excitement. They had to whip out their digital cameras and take a zillion pictures, and when a piece of cake toppled on its side they acted like it was a freaking catastrophe. The place is back lit and the tables have little cabaret lamps to create an ambiance for groups looking for a place to wind down after a great night out to dinner or the theatre, but this group couldn't be quiet for a second. I almost said something, but I was having too much fun with Ayako.
We went out for dessert again last night to a different place on the condition that we share one piece. I didn't tell Ayako that each piece of cake at this place is about 3 times the size of a normal piece of cake. We had a lemon cake, and listened to Blue Monday by Blue Order, or at least the bass notes because the place was so loud. I tried to explain the history of New Order and Joy Division to Ayako, as well as give her a brief introduction to Public Enemy all the while trying to read through her Japanese phrase book, but I have a tendency to overload information. I'll have to explain the importance of Public Enemy another time, but I'm pretty sure Ayako understood the part about Ian Curtis.
I got my giftee from Lola earlier this week. The Great Switcheroo by Roald Dahl. I haven't read it yet but it is "a decidedly adult fable" according to the summary on the reverse side of the jacket. Expectations.
So my New Year's was good, but I had the wrong idea. For some reason, I thought that K-Bear had arranged tickets for a private party, but it was actually his girlfriend, Trapeze Girl who did the arranging and we ended up doing something completely different. We ended up at a dessert cafe, what a coincidence! It was good to see them, but the movie is off again. Now K-Bear wants me to put Trapeze Girl in the film before he'll sign the contract, and there's always the question of financing.
I left the job at the engineering firm and took the position at the ad firm. I really didn't want to leave the other place, but the new place offered me a bigger piece of pie and I managed to interest someone new in Layer Cake so it was a net positive in the end. It's so refreshing to work in a creative environment. This is the place where the receptionist was walking around with bare feet when I showed up for my interview. When I showed up for work on Monday, I was blinded by a sea of earthtone turtlenecks and power frames. They figured I was an auditor because I was dressed in a suit. Nothing special, collezione Zegna 1997, but when I clean up I clean up. I can't do anything about the pasty complexion, but that will be sorted soon enough. The sudden change was only momentary as I realized how great it felt to be part of a corporate culture that embraces the soul patch. Among other perks, Kraftwerk is broadcast throughout the top three floors of the building, and all the company officers drive Audis. It is a sight to behold watching them pull into the garage in the morning with the faint trance of The Robots or Aero Dynamik off in the distance.
There is a window, its not right in front of me, but all I have to do is turn my head 90 degrees to see outside. I haven't been able to do that in 6 years. I work with identical twins who have their own language. It's English, but nobody understands them. One of them is training me, and she goes about 90 miles an hour. I asked her if she drinks Red Bull, but she said no, so I guess she eats pep pills by the bowlful in the morning. A lot of f-bombs get dropped in the office and there are a lot of introverts in the creative department, but I've never worked in a place with so much eye candy, which makes lunch hour fun. My department co-workers spend lunch playing cards for money, so I slink off to the kitchen and watch Oprah. I haven't seen my soaps in about three weeks. I tried watching one yesterday on lunch but the story lines had changed so drastically, that it hurt to watch.
The boss flew in from Montreal for a departmental meeting, and since I was the new guy I had to sing. My go to song is Brass in Pocket by The Pretenders, but I quickly realized that this probably wasn't the right time for Chrissy Hind, and perhaps a little too abstract considering that my new boss and I had only just met and there was no context. Brass in Pocket really only works when you've drawn the short straw at the company karaoke function, and out of spite you decide to expand your homophobic boss' mind. A word with the compere, and before your boss, who thinks you're gay anyway, can figure out what is happening, you're prancing around the bar with a microphone pointing at him, explaining how you're going to make him see that you're special, so special. But that was so last year. Instead, I went with Michael Sembello's Maniac. It seemed fitting at the time seeing as how I was wearing leg warmers and there was just too much room on the frosted glass tabletop. Afterall, I work at a creative firm now and the worst that could happen would be a few raised eyebrows, and they did tell me I had to sing. It wouldn't hurt to be more specific now and then, would it?
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
The Durban Affair - A Rather Disjointed Account
One of the good things about Alphonse was that he knew a lot of interesting people. One of those people was Carlo, I'll call him that because I don't remember his name. Anyway, Carlo was a waiter like Alphonse but he'd been around a lot longer and really knew the best stuff to eat and the places to eat it.
I was sacked from my job last week because it was "beneath" me to continue in that role. No joke, my boss told me she didn't want me to commit to the job because I was too good for it. On my way home from class the night before, I was in a positively continental mood so I popped by Ayako's workplace and bought a ficelle and some Cambozola cheese. Carlo introduced me to this cheese and it has to be the best treat a cheese lover can find. Of course, Carlo served it on a plate with assorted prosciutti and olives and stuff which only made the cheese better.
I really don't know what's wrong with Sissy. I could live in Paris on bread, butter and cheese, and maybe a little jam and I'd be happy. It adds to the whole French experience. Sissy and I weren't even in Paris for two days and she was already more interested in finding a McDonald's than the Eiffel Tower. She ate burgers and fries for lunch and dinner for the next three days, and religieuses for breakfast.
I guess now would be as good a time as any to describe Ayako's workplace, since I'll be spending a lot more time and a lot more money there. It's the sort of place where one can take lunch and watch the rock stars, athletes and various associates mill about. It's a place where employees won't eat because it's too expensive. It's also the kind of place where the following dilemma and conversation might take place:
Mink flanks and civet - 47 different types of civet, but no plain civet in the shop. Civet with mushroom, civet in oil, civet in tomato sauce but no fresh civet.
Close up of hanging sign reading "Aisle 12 - Mink flanks, Civet" etc. pans down to a male customer and male employee in the aisle
Pompous Old Englishman: Ahem, excuse me young man. You seem to be full out of mink today.
Shop Assistant: Ah yes. The mink delivery didn't make it today. The delivery company had problems at the farm.
POE: I see, well what do you recommend?
SA: We have some very nice civet. What did you have in mind?
POE: Erm, well I'm making my wife a special anniversary dinner, but she had her heart set on mink flank steak.
SA: Might I suggest these marinated civet medallions with a pasta on the side?
POE: Well, that does sound delicious! What kind of vegetable does one serve with medallions?
SA: Why, fiddleheads of course!
POE: Ha ha! Well played.
SA: Aisle 6...
End scene
So this is the kind of stuff that the ultra rich are eating, and Ayako is only one such person who has to deal with it on a daily basis, and pay seven dollars for a tea bag. It's also the reason why normal people generally don't shop there. I mean, the rest of us can get by with three types of civet, four tops.
The other night, things really changed between me and Ayako. She announced that she loves cheese and the next day she told me she was on a diet. As far as I can tell, you can't diet and eat lovely cheeses - and you probably shouldn't diet when you already weigh 87 pounds. I took her to a Japanese restaurant and had kani miso, nattou and some other things. Ayako ordered beef tongue but just as I thought we'd hit the Yong Fook trifecta, the very fetching waitress informed us that they were out of tongue. The waitress reminded me of someone I used to work with but only hotter because my ex-coworker had a boyfriend. We had steak instead, and I drove Ayako home. On the way, I got lost but also saw a guy walking around with a cat on his shoulder. How many times do you see this in your life? I've seen this exactly 3 times. Two different guys, two different cats. These cats were probably the smart kind that know how to use the toilet too, but the first one was a tabby that was perfectly happy cruising around on the shoulders of a guy in downtown rush hour. The second cat was black and was only out late at night in a residential area of downtown.
The day after the nattou incident, I also learned that Ayako likes Mexican food. I took her window shopping, and after introducing her to the local Burberry's shop, she treated me to a Mexican feast. We left soon after the entertainment began. I didn't want Ayako to go home so I showed her the rare video shop, and another Japanese restaurant that was allegedly closed even though the sign said "open", and then took her to a good dessert place that an old friend Calvin had introduced me to. I had wanted to take my ex-coworker there, but she had a boyfriend, and it was probably all for the best because they had changed the set-up. The dessert menu was served at a different location. Ayako and I went down there and took afters. I had a lemon dacquoise and a Vietnamese coffee, while Ayako blew her diet and her mind with a lemon cheesecake and tea. I don't know if I like the new set-up. I mean under the old scheme, my friends and I could sit and chat and take coffee, and then sit and talk more and maybe have another drink on the patio and staff wouldn't say a thing. Now the new shop is run by someone who thinks they're freaking Magnolia or something because there is a "polite" note at each table requesting that customers stay for no more than 30 minutes, and the waitress flings the bill at you before you've finished your drink. Since we were in the neighbourhood and since Ayako wants to know more on my backstory, I took her around to my childhood home and elementary school. The house isn't there anymore, but Ayako knew that. She loved my school.
So as I sit here with bruised ribs, bruised knees and a bruised spine I must be crazy about Ayako. All of a sudden there are not enough hours in a day to do the things I had plenty of time to do before, and I catch myself experimenting with new hairstyles, window shopping, and singing Beatles' songs just because Ayako asks.
I was sacked from my job last week because it was "beneath" me to continue in that role. No joke, my boss told me she didn't want me to commit to the job because I was too good for it. On my way home from class the night before, I was in a positively continental mood so I popped by Ayako's workplace and bought a ficelle and some Cambozola cheese. Carlo introduced me to this cheese and it has to be the best treat a cheese lover can find. Of course, Carlo served it on a plate with assorted prosciutti and olives and stuff which only made the cheese better.
I really don't know what's wrong with Sissy. I could live in Paris on bread, butter and cheese, and maybe a little jam and I'd be happy. It adds to the whole French experience. Sissy and I weren't even in Paris for two days and she was already more interested in finding a McDonald's than the Eiffel Tower. She ate burgers and fries for lunch and dinner for the next three days, and religieuses for breakfast.
I guess now would be as good a time as any to describe Ayako's workplace, since I'll be spending a lot more time and a lot more money there. It's the sort of place where one can take lunch and watch the rock stars, athletes and various associates mill about. It's a place where employees won't eat because it's too expensive. It's also the kind of place where the following dilemma and conversation might take place:
Mink flanks and civet - 47 different types of civet, but no plain civet in the shop. Civet with mushroom, civet in oil, civet in tomato sauce but no fresh civet.
Close up of hanging sign reading "Aisle 12 - Mink flanks, Civet" etc. pans down to a male customer and male employee in the aisle
Pompous Old Englishman: Ahem, excuse me young man. You seem to be full out of mink today.
Shop Assistant: Ah yes. The mink delivery didn't make it today. The delivery company had problems at the farm.
POE: I see, well what do you recommend?
SA: We have some very nice civet. What did you have in mind?
POE: Erm, well I'm making my wife a special anniversary dinner, but she had her heart set on mink flank steak.
SA: Might I suggest these marinated civet medallions with a pasta on the side?
POE: Well, that does sound delicious! What kind of vegetable does one serve with medallions?
SA: Why, fiddleheads of course!
POE: Ha ha! Well played.
SA: Aisle 6...
End scene
So this is the kind of stuff that the ultra rich are eating, and Ayako is only one such person who has to deal with it on a daily basis, and pay seven dollars for a tea bag. It's also the reason why normal people generally don't shop there. I mean, the rest of us can get by with three types of civet, four tops.
The other night, things really changed between me and Ayako. She announced that she loves cheese and the next day she told me she was on a diet. As far as I can tell, you can't diet and eat lovely cheeses - and you probably shouldn't diet when you already weigh 87 pounds. I took her to a Japanese restaurant and had kani miso, nattou and some other things. Ayako ordered beef tongue but just as I thought we'd hit the Yong Fook trifecta, the very fetching waitress informed us that they were out of tongue. The waitress reminded me of someone I used to work with but only hotter because my ex-coworker had a boyfriend. We had steak instead, and I drove Ayako home. On the way, I got lost but also saw a guy walking around with a cat on his shoulder. How many times do you see this in your life? I've seen this exactly 3 times. Two different guys, two different cats. These cats were probably the smart kind that know how to use the toilet too, but the first one was a tabby that was perfectly happy cruising around on the shoulders of a guy in downtown rush hour. The second cat was black and was only out late at night in a residential area of downtown.
The day after the nattou incident, I also learned that Ayako likes Mexican food. I took her window shopping, and after introducing her to the local Burberry's shop, she treated me to a Mexican feast. We left soon after the entertainment began. I didn't want Ayako to go home so I showed her the rare video shop, and another Japanese restaurant that was allegedly closed even though the sign said "open", and then took her to a good dessert place that an old friend Calvin had introduced me to. I had wanted to take my ex-coworker there, but she had a boyfriend, and it was probably all for the best because they had changed the set-up. The dessert menu was served at a different location. Ayako and I went down there and took afters. I had a lemon dacquoise and a Vietnamese coffee, while Ayako blew her diet and her mind with a lemon cheesecake and tea. I don't know if I like the new set-up. I mean under the old scheme, my friends and I could sit and chat and take coffee, and then sit and talk more and maybe have another drink on the patio and staff wouldn't say a thing. Now the new shop is run by someone who thinks they're freaking Magnolia or something because there is a "polite" note at each table requesting that customers stay for no more than 30 minutes, and the waitress flings the bill at you before you've finished your drink. Since we were in the neighbourhood and since Ayako wants to know more on my backstory, I took her around to my childhood home and elementary school. The house isn't there anymore, but Ayako knew that. She loved my school.
So as I sit here with bruised ribs, bruised knees and a bruised spine I must be crazy about Ayako. All of a sudden there are not enough hours in a day to do the things I had plenty of time to do before, and I catch myself experimenting with new hairstyles, window shopping, and singing Beatles' songs just because Ayako asks.
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