Bruce Lee R.I.P.

It is a sad day in the Taylor household.

Our beautiful Betta Fish, Bruce Lee, passed away quietly during the night.

Bruce had been looking a little green around the gills this past week. The freshest water and most relaxing, medicated fish treatment were administered, but to no avail. Yesterday evening he was looking a little pale and listless but Mikala and I hoped that, if he could survive a plane trip, he could bounce back from anything.

Alas, this was not the case.

Bruce shall be fondly remembered for the way he used to merrily leap out of the water to grab food from our fingers, and how he used to puff up, go bright red and wiggle his fins ferociously if we showed him his reflection.

Perhaps it is fitting that, like his namesake, his passing is shrouded in mystery, and woefully premature.

Bruce Lee: the man, the legend, the fish.

Bruce Lee
2007 - 2007
R.I.P.

Arse Injections

So I've started this medieval diet. Yes, I know what you're all thinking. You're thinking: "Mikala, you're always on some sort of stupid no-wheat, no-beef, no-exercise and all alcohol diet, so why would you need to start another?"

Fact of the matter is that my nickname Minky should actually be spelled Minke. Like the whale. ;-)

You may not have noticed this about me because I have been actually projecting a holographic image into your brain for that I actually and more closely resemble Gisele Bundchen.

So - in the interest of putting down roots here in Van and getting my proverbial house in order I have sold my liver (it was HUGE from all the booze!) to pay for this diet that I've done much research on, called the Dr. Bernstein diet. Sounds ridiculous and faddy and I'm the first to be a cynic on these things, but I've fully committed to it. And I've now heard from four friends who had four friends who did it and dropped, like, half their size. And are keeping it off.

I've rearranged my cupboards and our fridge, separated all my proteins into 100g baggies and am embarking on a huge, Biggest Loser-sized life change. This time, I'm totally sure it'll work as well. The glass half-empty girl has been replaced with the "I may be skinny for the first time in my LIFE" girl.

Here's what I eat a day:

• two servings of protein (chicken, turkey, some fish or egg whites only) that are roughly smaller than the size of my PALM. I've got small hands. That's 100g in one go and you can't save it to have more.
  
• Then I get 460g of veg. Some veg. Not all veg. Not the fun veg. The green veg. And I've learned that Tomatoes weigh a lot.
  
• Then I get 2 servings of "bread". By bread, I mean four melba toasts or WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO a whole Matzoh cracker. Total. In a day.
• Because I'm so stuffed from this I can barely cram in the 2 servings of fruit (a half a grapefruit, a quarter small cantaloupe, an apple, an orange or 6 strawberries counts as one serving). And my treat? A cup of Jello Light.
• And did I mention that in all that I can only eat CERTAIN BRANDS of these foods? Oh yes!
• And did I mention that I'm not allowed ANY alcohol? A.N.Y. E.V.E.R.
  

Sounds delightful and totally insane right? The Bernstein clinic guarantees, however, that if you follow it to the letter then you'll lose 16-20 pounds A MONTH. It took me a year to lose 30 pounds with Weight Watchers. And I had to put up with our insufferable group leader whose catchphrase was "Cheese is my weakness" (said much like Marsha from Spaced).

Anyway, top this all off with visits to the clinic (which is only run by doctors and nurses and you have to go through a very thorough physical exam and they monitor your health constantly) EVERY OTHER DAY.

Add to this the following ingredients:

• Vitamin B INJECTIONS in my arse (in two weeks I get to change this to my belly or my thighs, w00t!) during every clinic visit (three times a week)
• One killer Vitamin B pill, four potassium pills and one multivitamin a day.
  
• Did I mention the three-weekly urine samples? No? They test you to see if you're going into ketosis I was +1 on Monday (good) and I'm +2 today (Better!)
  
• Oh and the blood test. Took that yesterday. Yay! Whoopee!
  

So, my friends, this to underline how unfun this diet is. This diet makes Weight Watchers look like the all-you-can eat buffet with extra lard. I went to the cinema last night and snacked on a half an orange I saved from my "huge" lunch.

But it's working. I've lost nearly 8 pounds in 5 days. And it's fat, not muscle, not tissue. And you know? I don't feel that bad. A bit forgetful, a lot hungry, but alright. Dan even remarked that I seemed terribly chipper. The diet comes into your life and smacks you about the face before it kicks you in the gut and rolls you into the gutter, but at least it's balanced. I'm eating wheat again, ha ha!

I'm fully planning on committing to this (as long as I can afford it) to the next four or five months. Next time you see me, I hope I will only be half of me.

Four Seasons in One Day, Weather With You, Six Months in a Leaky Boat, etc

The 7-week Vancouver municipal strike has lead to some pretty stinky garbage piles and countless gigs meant for the city-owned Orpheum to be moved to other venues. Like, for example, the delightfully quaint Stanley Park "Outdoor Arena" of Malkin Bowl - a name that grossly overestimates a mud clearing, rusted half-moon stage and slight hill on which to perch the portaloos.

Here I find myself, on Labour Day Monday night, thinking about the striking civic workers...

...and why the hell I've come to see Crowded House (for the second time in a month) in the POURING RAIN.

Nevermind. The fact of the matter is that hundreds of Wet Coasters who had planned a cozy night in at the ploosh Orpheum were now obligated to see their favourite band in the cold wet of September. Some, I read, even drove from Edmonton for the thing.Now, it is chucking down and the name Noah is being bantered about. Yet the Crowded House fans - a loyal and dedicated middle-of-the-road lot - stand outside with their MEC and North Face wilting. For some, it's been a few hours outside. Is this is a problem? Hell no! Kiwiland's finest minstrels have returned with their melodic sing-songs! And the rain has let up just long enough for opening act Pete Yorn to come offstage, but then buckets down as Crowded House come on! Huzzah! O rapture!

Three weeks earlier however, and you'd find a much different CH gig - replete with a sold out but geriatric and decidedly up-its-own-arse Toronto crowd sat on their hands, nearly mute, as the band played its first local gig in 11 years. Like my brother Derek always says while spitting: "Toronto gig crowds? They just SUCK. I hate them."
But on this night, in the "Scottish mist", hundreds of Vancouverites, cold and wet to the bone, giddy from the scent of urinal cakes shifting down hill, jumped up in down in the mud, screaming, singing and laughing. "Everywhere you go, always take the weather with you...."

Which proves one thing: Vancouver still p*sses on Toronto.