Dan & Mikala's Fantabulous Adventures in Canadia

Amazing BC Wildlife!

2009-02-27T09:20:00.000-08:00

Dan and I are constantly amazed at the remarkable wildlife you can see here in BC. Last week, me, Dan, mum and I went for a drive about an hour away from Vancouver to this renowned wildlife spotting area and I took my crappy camera in case we spotted a slug or something. But we were totally amazed. Seriously, it was incredible...the fact that you can find these sorts of animals just roaming, every day of the year, here. Wow.

Couldn't believe we actually saw a buck with horns!

We'd heard there were also foxes, from one of the locals. A sign nearby said to watch for them, so we poked into some of the more off-the-beaten path areas and totally chanced upon this fella: But the best, most awe-inspiring? My dream of finally seeing a grizzly (from a safe distance of course) was realized. We'd heard from another pair of hikers that there was this bear-watching platform and bears were down by the creek, coming out early and looking for salmon. The couple had seen one there and so we hotfooted it over there. Cannot believe we saw her:

It was completely breathtaking to see these BC icons....

....I've now seen elk, eagles, seals, otters....it's really remarkable here....

....Oh alright then.....

.....I confess.....

....Last week, we were really at.....

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....................
....................
....................
.....wait for it....
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....the Greater Vancouver Zoo! It's a funny, rundown, pikey zoo outside of town I'd been meaning to check out, that was actually quite fun its own overpriced, under-maintained sort of way. It's got this mad collection of animals, and is really odd. But the best bit? Hardly anyone there off-season means you can get rather up close to the animals!

And perhaps, even, make a few friends:

Hee hee.

My Friend Dean Wareham...

2009-02-01T22:03:00.000-08:00

...singer with seminal indie rock bands Galaxie 500 and Luna (and now the mellow-lounge stylings of Dean & Britta) was in town this weekend for the PuSH International Performing Arts Festival. I've known Dean for 16 years. He used to call me the Donut Girl because we had this running joke in Toronto when I used to bring the band beignets, back in the 90s.

Anyway, the Andy Warhol Museum commissioned Dean to write some music for some silent, B&W screentests Warhol did in the late 60s and so, he and Britta (his wife/bandmate) put together The 13 Most Beautiful: Songs for Andy Warhol's Screen Tests. Dean put me on the guest list for the Van perf, and so me and the lovely Anita tarted ourselves up in our finest boho-chic (hanging out with the arts crowd, don't you know) and went off to the Vogue Theatre.

It was a welcome distraction from recent shit. And an utterly commanding performance, actually. Considering Dean & Britta's gig at Richard's last year nearly put Dan, Joy and Julie to sleep, I was pleased Anita got into it. I urge you to check the 13 out if they tour your town. V. cool. And remember, Britta used to be the singing voice for the cartoon Jem (as in her of The Holograms).

Was also chuffed because Dean had sent me an email earlier in the day. Complained he was ill but that they were likely going to be playing a secret, midnight show on Granville Island after their Warhol thing, so of course, we went along. I was psychically exhausted but as Dean & Britta's stuff is far from taxing, it became a perfect soundtrack to my trampled mood.

The next day, I got even more Dean action. He did a book reading and short acoustic gig at the fabulous indie record store, Zulu. Afterward, we chatted earlier, then I stood in line, waiting to get him to sign my uncorrected galley review copy of the book, Black Postcards.

I said: "I know it's weird cos I've known you this long to get you to sign this, but you know me, always a collector and fan..."
Dreamy Dean smiled, and said (signing my book without asking me to spell my name): "I'd put 'to the Donut Lady', but I think we're far beyond that now." :-)

Comme j'ai dit, a welcome distraction. Read my Dean Wareham interviews, if you fancy.

(And sorry for the delay in blogging. Life's been, uh interesting, for us. More news as it happens.)

Today's Message Brought to You By...

2009-01-11T19:51:00.001-08:00

We're an TV-advertising-free household. So today we decided to go to the local cinema to watch the World's Best Commericals. I kept thinking: "when is the movie going to start?" ;-)

Some were really excellent and reminded us that good advertising is indeed an artform and should be appreciated other media. I'd forgotten about good ads. There are seemingly so few of them. And it was a weird realization in a world far too inundated with marketing messages.

It was strange that we paid money to see advertisers' attemps to take more of our money, but hey ho. It was a worthy excercise and a film excursion devoid of superheros, aliens, lesbians, ninjas, car-chases or robots. You know, our usual preferred fare.

Anyway, we had a few faves, I thought we'd share. And even though I HATE HATE HATE CG'd talking babies (in any media), the acting and script save this entirely. And makes it genius.

And we really want to shop here....(note our actual bed is in this clip too):

What about you guys? Any faves recently?

Snow-Motion

2008-12-24T15:32:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas to all from snowstormy Vancouver. This pic was taken Christmas Eve, 3.35pm. In the past 12 hours, another 10-20cm has fallen. Most unusual, but also, kinda nice and white! Happy holidays everyone! And from our friend Hubert as well (who used to have arms and a hat, but we were worried about him losing them).

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

2008-12-21T11:23:00.000-08:00

This week Vancouver has been hit with an unprecedented amount of snow and a cold snap that, by Ontario standards, is perfectly normal (-12 degrees-ish), but by Vancouver, IS THE COLDEST EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE! No, seriously, it was actually the coldest temperature on record.

It was nippy yesterday when Dan and I went on our search to Granville Island market for the Baby Cheesus (for our cheese board on Christmas).And last night, the white stuff came dumping down and hasn't stopped. So we got hammered, had our mate Gregg over and watched ELF.

Anyways, Happy Solstice everyone - methinks we'll skip going out to the Solstice celebrations in town because it's a mite frigid. Plan now is to stay in, drink mead, hover round my witchy cauldron and celebrate the first day of winter and the longer days. From inside.

Cool Runnings and 'Ting

2008-12-15T20:46:00.000-08:00

It's not often you're waiting at the airport to pick up your mum when you hear something like this coming over the tannoy: "Would everyone joining the Jamaican Bob Sled Team event, please make their way over to carousel number 6."

So you go over, curious, 'cos really, wtf? The Jamaican Bob Sled Team? They're like stars, mon! They had a film made about them! It's not like it's some lame Khazakstanian Women's Curling team (no offense), but JAMAICANS. WHO ARE BOBSLEDDERS. Awesome much?

So being a consummate professional/snoop, I got chatting with the welcoming committee - a mostly Pembertonian crowd, some Jamaican fans and a few airport staff waiving dem flags. Pemberton is close to Whistler, where the boys are, apparently, training for the 2010 Olympic Winter Games. Keeeewl.
Wearing my offical BC jacket, we started talking tourism, natch. I met with a consultant for Pemberton's economic development and the owners of the town's Copper Dome Lodge, Ian and Michelle Porter. They're hosting the team during their pre-training and were pretty excited about their arrival - that and the fact I told them I would update Hellobc .com with this crucial bit of trivia, of course. ;-) They even invited my team up to stay or use their lodge for our meetings when we got round to doing our Pemberton visit as part of the community content project I'm spearheading for Hellobc.com. Nice folks. I hope they wave flags when we arrive.

Anyway.... I dispatched Dan to fetch madda (hmmmm, Mother v. Athletic Jamaican Guys Who Wear Lycra. Whom to greet first? Decisions!) while I hung around. Shameful, I know. But in the end, we collected mum, all her bags, and headed back to carousel 6. We had made it back in time for the arrival of the fittest.

Rrrrree-spec'!

The Puck Stops Here.

2008-12-09T23:05:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, Dan and I put in a single request for one pair of tickets to a 2010 Olympics event. Sure, it's just the Men's Ice Hockey Qualification Playoff, but it's one step below bronze and a big step above the prelims.

And it's MEN'S HOCKEY. Anyway, I figured we'd have a better chance at getting tickets in the ginormo national lottery for the lesser-prio games as only 4,000 tickets were made available for the men's gold game (last count: 170,000 ticket requests were made). Plus, those were stoopid expensive.

Today, we won our little piece of the lottery. We're going to an Olympics hockey game. Of course, it'll probably be a playoff between Outer Mongolia and Khazakstan or something, but still. Dan and I figured that if we're going to be living in the hometown of an Olympics, we should *gulp* Share the Excitement. So we are. We are stupidly excited. And just had to share. ;-)

Kimberely and the Canadian Rockies

2008-12-05T23:38:00.000-08:00

Reviews You Can Use

2008-11-29T22:25:00.000-08:00

Dan and I watched a French man twiddle his knobs last week. Read all about M83 in my live review.

Oh and if you haven't had enough Eagles of Death Metal (and really, who can have enough Eagles of Death Metal? They're retardedly genius if you're a drunk biker!) - read my interview and live review with Jesse Hughes, thisaway.

Also last week, I went to see OHgr. Who's really Nivek Ogre (who's really Kevin Ogilivie) from Vancouver's industrial godfathers Skinny Puppy. (Basically, Skinny Puppy birthed Nine Inch Nails, but NIN took the credit).

Anyway, I used to be a big fan of the Pups. They were how I "revolted" against my middle-class upbringing - I used to drunkenly request their noise at highschool dances and rail against the "system" by quoting lyrics from "Smothered Hope", "Icebreaker" and "Assimilate".

Anyway, my former-Goth mate Gregg convinced me I needed to relieve my angsty teen years by attending this big-deal homecoming with him, so there I was, on a Sunday night, amongst the ageing freaks. I was black of eyeliner and evil of heart.

But 'lo how I laughed when the actually still-entertaining Ogre came out in a typically theatrical costume - a gruesome rubber mask and outfit -which faced out from his back (he eventually stripped the kit off and turned around to reveal a V for Vendetta-y face mask and makeup). Under a fab light show, he proceeded to sing this delightful little ditty about poo:

Awesome stuff, purile repetition notwithstanding. I felt truly among my freakish people that night. *sigh* Gig season seems to be over now. Franz Ferdinand are headed this way, but I can't be arsed, really. Just seems a bit too top-40, really. And so we head into darkness until Feb.

Chillin' in Bella Coola

2008-11-06T17:34:00.000-08:00

So, I recently got back from Bella Coola, BC. I spent a day longer there than I'd expected as my plane out was cancelled due to rain/fog/general crappiness. By "my plane" I mean "the only" plane, a 10-20 person prop plane that requires (obviously) a clear look at the runway before it zooms all willy-nilly over and past glaciers and forests. Something about safety, landing in between mountains, deer running at the side of the 3-inch long runway, you know, the usual. Bah - what a pain. ;-)

Not that Bella isn't insanely, well, bella. Still, I was holed up in this tiny place...
You know, your usual Hav-a-Nap Motel type. ;-) And while the place didn't have a bar, I got an extra day to admire the views of Valley, even in the chucking-down rain. It was hardly "Survivor" as my boss pointed out - but I still felt a bit weird being trapped with nothing but the satallite TV, wireless, warmth, a full kitchen, king-size bed, baked goods in the morning and grocery store a full 20 minutes WALK away. Shocking, really, how I had to struggle. The things I do to get good web content. ;-)

The Coola thing about Bella is that it's so bloody far removed from everything. Have a look at the left-hand side of this Cariboo Chilcotin Coast regional map and you'll see where I was, in Hagensborg, near by the bustling metropolis of B.C. Bella Coola itself is pretty high-traffic. Here's a pic from rush hour:

Wildlife count: 1 giant eagle a meter away from us, 3 x deer (2 of which decided to run across the road as we were driving), 2 x crazy squirrels, 1 x fox and 0 x bear. I. Am. Never. Ever. Going. To. Get. To. See. Wild. Bears. Even. Though. They. Are. 10. A. Penny. In. Bella. Coola.

I drove out with the awesome Shawna Ludwig from the CCC Regional Tourism Association. It was a five-hour drive from Williams Lake and to get to the Bella Coola Valley (situated between stunningly coloured "rainbow" mountains of epic proportions), we had to go down a ruddy great big "Hill".

By "Hill" I mean enormomountain.

An 18% change in elevation doesn't read like much on a computer screen, but believe me, after dozens of crazy tight S-bends on a ONE-lane dirt road hand hewn by the locals (apparently - they call it the "freedom highway". Freedom from what? One's sense of calm?). One on side, bits of shale going straight up. On the other? Bits of shale going straight down. After plugged ears for 30 minutes, I was glad to hit bottom in one piece, it has to be said.

And when we did, the rewards were plentiful. We met with the locals - our region-based writer, and various tourism experts who showed us around town. We hiked through old-growth forests, checked out many a river bed (which are normally crawling with Grizzlies) and hiking trail, bought stupidly good fresh prawns from a local fishmonger, ate at the one restaurant, admired the local Nuxalk native art and generally had a (tiring) but good time. Stranded or not, I am lucky to be able to visit some of these spots. Take, for example, this horrible and dodgy campground. Rubbish innit?

In fact, I suggest you check it out sometime. If the plane doesn't make it in, there's a ferry that comes over from the Island. Sometimes. It takes either 12 or 36 hours.

Next stop, the AMAZING AND WONDERFUL suburb of Vancouver, known as New Westminster! WOOHOO! I hear the views are of, umm, Richmond and the Vancouver airport. But stay tuned, I could be wrong!

Mikala Meets the Eagles of Death Metal

2008-11-03T12:00:00.000-08:00

Watch the video. Jesse has an important message for you. :-)

It's undeniable. EoDM Rock. They're simple, uncomplicated, cliched, trashy fun. They just (does the double-hand devil signs) RAWK.

Had SUCH a great time last night. Did a mental interview with Jesse "The Devil/Boots Electric" Hughes who talks so much (good) sh*t. When I asked for my own EoDM nickname, he started out with "Red Genius" (cos of my reddish hair) but said it wasn't sexy enough and he had to think on it. And like the giant cheese-monger he is, he proclaimed me "smokin' hot" and gave me an all-access pass so I could hang out with the band. Wooooo!

I told him I was taken, of course, and he said "good, you should be, but you gotta let a man still try," LOL. Bless him, I think he found someone else to try out/on/with after the show, thank gods, and disappeared to the bus. My full Eaglette nickname shall have to wait. ;-)

After shooting photos in the pit for a few songs, I partied on the side of the stage with various hangers-on and UK openers The Duke Spirit (who are absolutely brilliant and sweet and have a hot girl singer). Then I drank beer, chatted more with the Dukes, laughed at the baby groupies and admired the insanely amazing arms of Queens of the Stone Age's drummer Joey Castillo.

I came. I saw. I rocked out. And it was good.

They're Creepy and They're Spooky

2008-11-02T11:26:00.001-08:00

...and all together Ooky, The Addams Family!

Here Be Pirates

2008-11-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

Happy Samhain!

Hope everyone had a fun Hallowe'en. Ours was pretty silly but super fun. My office totally got into the spirit, as it were. Half the staff were in costumes and a few of my colleagues went all out, creating their own version among their cubicles of Victoria's prized tourist attraction, Butchart Gardens, which they'd renamed Butcher Gardens and were dressed as dead staff.

The IT team set up video conferencing in our board room so the Vancouver and Victoria offices could compare outfits and Halloween potluck food, I ate far, far too many sweets and baked Squee-Nut Butter cookies, our Online team dressed as the work "Anti-Values" (we rewrote our Corporate values to be super sarky, made t-shirts out of them and sent them the values off to the whole company). Niiice!

Then we met Beth & Simon for dinner at Hapa Izakaya (Hapa Halloween everyone! Geddit?), where we applied our fake tattooes and gear and then headed down to Stanley Park for their Ghost Train - this year it was Pirate Themed, which of course that scurvy dog Dan was most tempted by. The 15-min long kiddie ride takes you through parts of the park decked out all swash-buckler like, and was actually a good laugh. It also helped that Simon had brought oodles of dollar-store Pirate goodies for us to borrow so we could look the p-yarrrrr-t. No, these are not pics from Dan's 30th birthday...

Following that, we took a really silly "Creepy Crawlies" night walk through the park by candlelight with the local ecology group, and met some rather odd creatures.....

This one taught us about how she flies through air and snuffles around for truffles. Or something. We also met a giant raccoon, a bat and a moth. (Oh and we saw some real Halloweeny raccoons scrounging for the organic popcorn on sale, too. The sly 'coons were perfectly disguised and had their own masks on.)

Tomorrow it's an All Saints Day (Night) party at Joy's where we really dress up proper (albeit a day late)! I do believe that Morticia and Gomez Addams may be making an appearance....

Parade of Lost Souls 2008

2008-10-26T16:53:00.001-07:00

Vancouver really is the shizzle when it comes to creative parades and neighbourhood celebrations. The Winter Solstice, the Zombie Walk, monthly cyclist demonstrations, and this, the amazing Parade of Lost Souls.

This parade, held each year around Halloween (this year, Oct 25) is held to celebrate All Hallows Eve, All Souls Day and Los Dios del Muerto. Conveniently, it's also a big-ass street(s) party, held in our neighbourhood. Hundreds of artists, performers and local house owners along the parade route, get together to put on some amazing stuff for the costumed hordes as they amble by. We saw witches on balconies, dancers in windows, guitarists on porches, films on walls and many drummers drumming.

This year's top awards goes to: (Dan's pick) The Mondo Spider, a giant, robot-spider car that moved and which was created two years ago by local engineering students who have shown it off at Burning Man. We only saw the end of it moving, so it's only stationary in the video and sadly, because of the black of night, it doesn't look as impressive. But clickee the linkee and see more UToob vids of the thing. It's absolutely wicked.

My fave? It's not in the video, alas, but it was the house with "Elvis and the Scavengers of Regret" - a totally Halloweeny decorated pad teeming with adult-sized raccoons and vermin, inviting us to write our regrets down on a piece of newspaper, which the raccoons would come rustling about for, gather up, crinkle up, and hop over to their bonfire and burn for you. Genius.

This was a truly amazing night, but don't take our words for it! Pumpkin Bill has a video for you:

Anarchy in the UK

2008-10-24T21:50:00.000-07:00

This pretty much sums up our trip the UK. In this video, Dan, his brother Dominic and I sit in a Kebab Shop on Old Street at 2am as Dan explains the meaning of the Latin written on the one-pound coin and itemizes the amount of booze we ingested during the evening.

So what else did we get up to while in Londinium? Not a lot, really...

After we arrived at the new house of our awesome and gorgeous mate Suze, we were fed and watered and napped and then headed straight up to our old 'hood of Maida Vale, dahling, where we arrived in style to our private room at the Idlewild pub (which Dom had redesigned). We were joined by many mates, as well as bro Dom and sister Gab, the latter of which had come in from Zurich. My Biggest Loser-style reveal went swimmingly and mouths were agape at the halfness of me (okay, I gained most of it back by the end of the trip, but hey, it was worth every 1kg-Cadbury's Dairy Milk bar) and the reunited Taylors were very happy to see each other...

Dan is clearly so excited (read: drunk und jetlagged) to see his friends that in this picture below, he can hardly contain himself and thus has his eyes closed... (Thanks for pics, Gab!)

Though Dan did fall asleep when he decided to go back with Dom and girlf Kelly and pass out on their sofa (in their awesome pad) with snuffly Stanley the Dog. A dog, I hasten to add, is so bizarre-looking he's actually really cute. And he wheezes and burbles like a coffee percolator...

I went back home with Suze, only to be awoken early on Sunday by a clearly still-drunk Dan who had arrived back home with Dom and was insisting we leave NOW to go to their Mum's place to see her, the aunts and uncles and all our cousins. About three hours earlier than we'd agreed. So we got in Dom's posh ark (for it was flooding with rain), picked up Gab, Kelly and Sir Stanley Who Farted A Lot, and headed out to Wisteria Lane/Bedfordshire.

On Monday we were kindly escorted to Nottingham by Dan's dad, to see the Grandparents, eat at an old man's pub (Ploughman's Lunch for me, ta!) and have dinner at Eakely Grange with the family, including Dan's erm, excitable other sister Rachel who was sprung from her boarding school Stowe for our visit. She'd only been boarding for a few weeks and had much hyperness to share, bless her.

Tuesday we came back from Ye Olde English Cun'ree Side and headed into Hoxton. I popped in to surprise an old colleague at his office, then had dinner with Dom & Kelly. Dom then took us to a FABULOUS tiny basement-you-wouldn't-know-it-was-there bar in East London, called Lounge Bohemia. It was a fab night - the place was classic. Sits 40, is in a cavern, with elegant, minimalist 70s styling, an ice-cool EasternEuro who owns the place mixes some of the best martinis and cocktails with enormous care. AND they had absinthe dispensers....

Awesome presentation. As well as two twats who both hate the taste of licorice but thought it'd be fun to order. ;-)

Wednesday we had lunch with our workmates (well, I did, all but one of Dan's were too busy to see him, which totally bites), then asssembled for pie and mash at the infamous mashery, the Newman Arms. We were joined by Suze, Geoff and Tom. Why pie? Here's why pie:

Deeeeelish! Can you tell we were lard-asses on this trip? Speaking of food...

Thursday was dim sum lunch at yummy Ping Pong with John & Mayumi who were both eerily and entirely devoid of pre-wedding jitters. After a spot of extra shoppage around Covent Garden, we headed over for dinner to the home of ma famille, Martin and Kimberlee McCarrick. They are still stupidly good-looking, heelarious, adorable and talented.

On Friday, Dan left homebase at 6am to get into town to preside over John's stag do. He will fill you in on on what craziness they got up to, later, but here's a taste:Nice! So I took the day to bimble into Victoria, have a quickie (lunch) with my mate Alex K, then wandered down the King's Road, and bought $80 worth of the best chocolate salted caramel balls in the universe plus a dark-grey version of this t-shirt from criminally sexy/gothy All Saints for roughly the same amount. Then I met up with Suze for a trek to Twickenham to see a very-pregnant Meave for a tapas dinner.

Saturday, an exhausted Dan chilled chez Casa Suze while I spent a day in Islington. Had lunch at my fave gastro pub, The Elk in the Woods, and caught up on three years with my much-missed, and now preggers, mate Sabina. A truly blissful day, followed promptly by a visit to my favourite restaurant/bakery/shop, Ottolenghi, where we both purchased their stupidly divine passion fruit/meringue tarts, which Sabina and I ate in a church yard while the sun shone.

Best. Dessert. Ever. Best. Foodie. Shop. Ever. Ever. Ever.

Saturday night we went to see two bed-wetters from Bloc Party "DJ" at what was a very entertaining sarf-east London student pub for the kinda well-known Dirty South night. I think we purchased 112 alcoholic drinks in plastic cups for about a tenner and the highlight of my night is when the 16 year-old singer of one of the opening bands motioned to the six people in the crowd to part so he could jump off the stage in a huge rock dive with his guitar, only to try leaping and then getting caught on his too-short guitar lead. Classic. This is also the same kid who said if we didn't dance he would "rape us in the face" - while wearing a Cookie Monster t-shirt. But despite the sheer highschool dance absurdity (and hilarity) of the student wasteland that lay all around us, we had to leave (and I stormed out) when the Blocheads put on The Smiths.

FAIL.

Sunday, of course, was wedding o'clock for the amazing, formerly Fluffy John and his now good lady wife, Mayumi. It was an apt opportunity to see all our closest friends: Al (who did a reading during the ceremony and was best man at our wedding) Tom, Geoff (who MC'd and was also best man at our wedding), Roz, Enmin, Suze (who was a witness and a best woman), Matt, Lauren and Dave (who was the DJ and was also the DJ at our wedding...see where we're going here?). Needless to say, our tables rocked out. Albeit in a very day-timey, don't-we-all-look-posh-sort-of-way...The ceremony was lovely, Dan's speech was awesome, John & Mayumi looked happy, the food was good and the Barbican was a pretty nice place to watch others get hitched. And when it was all over, all-too-early, we headed to the only pub open in the City on a Sunday night: the one at Liverpool St station. There we had the London combo: pints, pasties and teary, bleary goodbyes with all our mates.

Monday was last-minute shopping, curry for lunch with Dan's mum Janine and then a really awful, dirty curry (double curry action on Dan's insistence) for dinner. Then it was over to meet up with Martin & Kim, who were playing a wee gig at a Hoxton pub. Then it was back home, to bed, up four hours later and back to Heathrow. And with that, our London trip came to a close.

So, like I said, we didn't get up to much. :-)

Rockies and Bullwinkles

2008-09-27T14:21:00.000-07:00

My BC tour continued last week, taking me to the last region on my list: the Kootenay Rockies. I'd always wanted to see the Rockies, and got a taste when work took me to visit the fine folks at Kootenay Rockies Tourism. This time I went out with my office roomie and colleague extraordinaire, Sarah, to a little town called Kimberley. It's a quaint, oddly Bavarian-themed town at the foothills of the Rockies, about three hours' drive from Calgary, Alberta. Sun was shining, our meetings went well and we even managed to squeeze in a quick drive over to the Fairmont Hotsprings. I stayed in a ski resort, hiked up a small bit of Kimberley mountain and had a bison steak for dinner. Awwww yeah! These are not bison. And they were not for dinner. But they bolted like they were going to be.

But not Baby Bambi! There was a wee deer, just snuffling in among the leaves at the side of the road. Mmmm, road leaves...

Soon, Dr. Doolittle and her sidekick came up upon the Hoodoos That You Do So Well. The Hoodoos are a cool bit of curvalicious slate rock that weirdly jut out en route to Fairmont. They're quite a bit different from the lush green alpiney mountains and so we dubbed them "pretty neat".

Then it was time for a quick dip in the Fairmont Hot Springs - which S. and I dubbed "The Fountain of Anti-Youth". Either a bus load of codgers had dumped off its cargo straight into the pool, or the pool's properties, combined with sitting in it for hours, caused many young people to turn old, flabby and wrinkly. Can't be certain. We escaped, though, and here, S. waves about her bikini - for it was, in fact, the only bikini to be seen amid miles of Size 20 crazily-flowered one-pieces.
In all, a fine jaunt to another corner of BC's verdant land!

Vancouver 2010 Olympics - Brought to You By Mikala

2008-09-18T09:24:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty chuffed with myself today. A number of pages I created for the incredibly-busy-weirdly-designed OFFICIAL Vancouver 2010 Olympics website has gone live. I was responsible for working with the Olympics Games Secretariat and helped to coordinate the pages about, you guessed it, British Columbia. What this meant was cobbling together info from a billion sources, editing and rewriting existing copy and getting together one million approved photos. It's pretty cool to see one's copy on the VANOC pages actually, even if we did have to wedge in information about the province's economic development.

The sections I was responsible for were: British Columbia, Multimedia Gallery, History of British Columbia and Discover BC. I wonder if that means they'll reward me by giving me tickets to the Men's Ice Hockey Canada games? No?

From the Pit at Spiritualized

2008-09-14T22:26:00.000-07:00

Free ticket. Awesome show. Borrowed camera didn't cack out. Awesome Saturday night.

Totally Random Musings About Music

2008-09-11T13:40:00.000-07:00

It's been a monumentally dry summer for gigs (okay, excluding the enormo pop stadium bands that wheeled through. Bah, I still wish I'd seen the REM/National/Death Cab circus).

Still, for months now, nothing has grabbed me and made me want to hang out by the side door, knock on the tour bus window and lick the bassist...;-)

At least the silly season for gigs has hit once again. It's September and EVERYBODY knows that from September until the first week in December, the good bands are back on tour. They've grown fat and demanding from the summer's Yurpean festivals and they're now dithering about whether to hit the studio or...you know, just keep touring. Autumn is an excellent time for gig-age in Vancouver and pretty much all major cosmo NorthAm cities.

So why am I worried?

Tons of bands are heading this way. Tons of good indie bands. The cool kids with fans that have ironic mullets. The flavour of the mini-moment. The darlings of the NME (this week). But anyone I'm really, really retardedly excited about? Mooo, nothing yet. I haven't had a good drool in a long time and I'm bored.This past Sunday, I even found myself admiring Dave Sitek from TV on the Radio's glasses as he spent far too much time with his guitar and sequencer and avoided all audience eye contact. Boo. Read my TVOTR live review here. (And help contribute to my "get me a new camera body and zoom cos I need it so mutha-truckin' badly" fund ;-)

And Saturday night's Mogwai/Fuck Buttons gig? It's not like you can stare wistfully at Mogwai and then think "ahhh, there's a sexy band'. Sexy, dark, enormously loud and droney music? Yes. Fanciable? I'm thinking...erm, NO.They still blew the stacks out the venue windows and were - as usual - rather mesmerising. Feel like reading a Mogwai review? Okay.

I'm also awaiting word on whether I get review passes to this weekend's Spiritualized gig. Should be good if I do but I'm losing hope daily as I've not yet heard anything. Songs in A&E is fucking awesome and Vancouver will make, what, the FIFTH city I'll have seen the band in?

But that was eons ago and I find it tiresome having to chase people down who only remember you if they're prodded to remember you, you know, those five times in....anyway, not sure I'll buy tix if I don't get passes so digits crossed. Here's what I thought about A&E..

I've also plowed through and reviewed Primal Scream's latest recently. Struggled with that one but it's grown a bit less moldy with each passing day. Still can't get over the handclaps. Clicky the linky for the review.

So who's going to be the band that gets me really excited? Not a bloody clue. But I hope they come soon. After having front row seats to the Cure this past May, and giving great massage to the lovely and harmless Louis XIV boys (honestly, Jason Hill's hair smelled SO nice!), having a 10-year-old loose end get tugged when Mike Doughty came to town, meeting Howlin' Pelle from The Hives and getting hopped up on happy juice when Hot Chip exploded all over the Commodore Ballroom walls...well, plain old indie bands just won't hack it.

Like I said, it's not that there aren't a million cool little bands coming, and Dan and I just caught wind of a possible TINY venue DJ set by Moby in November (sent to make up for the fact that I'm missing Nick Warren AND potentially my Icelandic DJ friend who I haven't seen in 10 years, who may be touring with Sigur Ros, because we're in the UK and there are no good bands playing WHILE we're in the UK...)

But the bands I adore and implode over? Where the hell are you?

Rockin' and Writin'

2008-09-03T07:37:00.000-07:00

Done did two new (though very belated) album reviews on Suite101.com this week, check 'em out. There's also a second Hot Chip interview thingie up, too, which I threw up about a month or so ago. Even got me an "Editor's Pick", w00t!

Anyway, articles are here:
Spiritualized - Songs in A&E
Primal Scream - Beautiful Future

Goin' to see Mogwai and (hee hee) F*ck Buttons on Saturday night - my free plus one to review the show means that never-heard-of-Mogwai-before-not-really-into-drone-rock husband will be attending the gig with me and mates Gregg and Anita. I'll be interested to see what he makes of it. And Sunday is tres exciting: TV on the Radio, wahoo! Excited for that one, fo' 'sho, and hoping to get some interview time with the band. Then next weekend is Spiritualized. Glad to have some gigs coming down the pipe...it's been a slow summer.

Props To (And From) Williams Lake

2008-08-27T21:00:00.000-07:00

Guns for Show, Knives for a Pro

2008-08-25T19:27:00.001-07:00

If it's Monday, I must be in Williams Lake, British Columbia.

Today's business trip has taken my boss William and I deep into the heart of "Cariboo Country" - a patchwork of a region stitched together from three very distinct BC areas: The Cariboo (middle of BC, and east towards the Rockies), Chilcotin (more central) and Coast (a tiny snippet of seawall out west that encompasses islands you can only get to by ferry, floatplane or packmule. Okay, that last one I made up). Williams Lake is in the Cariboo part of CCC, accessed by us via 20-seater prop-plane.

Unlike other regions in BC, this one stretches sort of sideways. Williams Lake is the sort of place where they sell guns and saddles in shops. They have a history of gold panning. Our "Overlander Hotel" overlooks the mills and about 80 billion logs. The universal uniform is jeans and a baseball/cowboy hat. At 15,000 people, this is a big town. But the folks here sure are friendly...

...take, for example, the guy William and I met today. Let's call him "Crazy Redneck".

Following our entertaining meeting with the CCC regional team, William and I sat chatting outside the hotel, which comes conveniently with an attached restaurant, Carmen's, and a "Cold Beer and Wine Store".

A truck pulls up and out staggers a 30-something guy, reeking of beer and carrying two un-sheathed, evil-looking hunting knives, a grindstone and a bag of dark somethings. It's 2.3opm. He mumbles: "Yup, cigarette. Good idea" and then sits down on the bench and proceeds to burble at us. He's absolutely, unapologetically wankered. He does not care for our silly big-city "debriefing" bollocks. He wants to chat and slump at us.

And he's got two knives, so he wins.

He mumbles something about being on time. "To do what?" I ask. Of course, it's a TREMENDOUS idea to engage a pissed-up redneck with two knives in a full conversation.
"Whatever Pat tells me to do," he says.
"Who's Pat?" I ask.
"You don't know Pat?" he shoots back, disgusted.
"Erm, no, we just got here. We're tourists". William and I point to our suitcases, which we're not sure he's acknowledged. Along with the date, the year, his name or anything else that might be pertinent.
"Oh," he snorts, and seems tickled by this. "I thought you guys worked here. It's my first day,"
"Doing what?"
"I'm the chef at the restaurant. I cook stuff".
OF COURSE YOU ARE, we think, and make a mental note not to eat at Carmen's. EVER.
"That's why I have this," he sort of slumps towards a large ziplock bag.
"What are they? Dried mushrooms?"
"Chipotles"
"Ah, of course."
"Yeah, my buddy just sent me 1200 lbs of them from Chiapas"
"1200lbs?"
"He owed me money so he paid me in chillies."
OF COURSE HE DID.
"So you now have 1200 lbs in your one-bedroom apartment?" William jokes.
He laughs. "Yeah, well, sort of."
"So what's your specialty? What sort of food do you like to cook?"
"Ummm, I really like doing Japanese and German stuff."
OF COURSE YOU DO.

William and I ate at Denny's instead.

Admittedly, the potential chipotle-sashimi-bratwurst special could have been enticing. But I have to live long enough to get the hell out of here. ;-)))

Frack me! Part Le Deux

2008-08-18T21:24:00.000-07:00

Pity poor Canadian actor/Vanhoover native Alessandro Juliani, out for a morning stroll with his girlfriend, coffee in hand, ready to peruse the Trout Lake Farmer's Market in peace, when whom should accost him?

"You see that guy with the curly hair," Dan sez as I'm haggling for the last two pieces of The Iron Maiden's albacore tuna, "that's the dude who plays Felix Gaeta on Battlestar Galactica."

And she's off!

Mikala: Hello, I'm so sorry to bother you, but I just want to say (whispers) we're massive Battlestar fans.
Alessandro: (Beaming) Awesome! (Puts up a hand to high-five me, which I do).
M: Yeah, sorry about your X (plot spoiler not revealed for those who haven't caught up).
A: (Laughs)
M: You guys aren't still filming now are you?
A: Nope, it's over now. We're done for good.
M: Yeah, I know. Though I am waiting for Caprica, the new show. I actually met Michael Trucco here at George in Yaletown a year ago and managed to really embarrass myself by going all Comic-Con on him and telling him I'd be quite depressed when it all finished. Felt like SUCH a nerd.
A: Nawww, you guys aren't wearing costumes, you're not nerds! But be prepared to be depressed...
M: Yeah, I left my Spock ears at home and I'm not wearing my Klingon forehead pasty but anyway...although to redeem my geekiness I will say that..which episode was it, Dan?
Dan: "Season 3, Episode 4"
M: Yeah, that one. We were literally jumping off the sofa for that episode...oh shit, we really are nerds aren't we...I should really go...
A: (Laughs)
M: Anyway, probably best if we leave you to your market shop. Nice to meet you!

Dan to Mikala: "Battlestar guy said we weren't nerds, hurrah!"

And I thought that the most exciting thing at Trout Lake on a Saturday were the tomatoes...

:-)

Hot CHiPs

2008-08-18T21:07:00.001-07:00

The Bear Necessities

2008-08-18T20:29:00.000-07:00

It may have escaped your notice, but over 40% of Canada is covered in dense forest, full of cool Canadian things like chipmunks, beavers and, ah... grizzly bears. And so Mikala and I, not being the sorts who are deterred by the possibility of a gruesome death at the claws of a savage wild beast, decided to up sticks and spend a few nights "roughing it" out in the remote forests of Birkenhead Lake, just north of Whistler.

Unfortunately the most "extreme" bivouacking that we'd done was a few nights at the V2003 music festival, where the only thing we had to worry about being attacked by were crusty students too pissed up to find their own tent. Fortunately we had experienced Sherpas, in the form of Gregg & Anita, to show us the ropes. Anita can do the mating call of a caribou (I shit ye not) and Gregg is slightly French Canadian, which means he is genetically pre-disposed to enjoy chopping wood.

So, on a hot, sunny Friday evening we all bundled into the Gregg mobile, our camping gear wrapped in tarpaulins and lashed to the roof-rack like a big, blue burrito, and set sail for the great outdoors!

Birkenhead is usually three hours drive North of Vancouver. I say "usually" because this does not factor in some bell-end flipping his truck on the highway and consequently stopping traffic in both directions for an hour and a half (he emerged from the crash unscathed, by the way, so I can lay on the scorn guilt-free).

Whilst this was a minor inconvenience for our crew, the poor lady in the car in front had a wedding cake MADE ENTIRELY OF ICE CREAM to deliver. That'll learn her for deviating from the classic fruitcake. Anyway...

When we finally arrived at our site, a secluded little clearing, away from prying eyes, we set about making camp with great gusto. Unfortunately it was pitch black and I didn't have a torch; neither did I realise that we were missing a piece of the tent we'd borrowed. After about an hour of me mincing around like a twat, Gregg found the missing tent piece and our humble abode was swiftly erected. Anita cooked us up some Bison Smokies and much beer ensued as we munched our hot dogs and looked up in bewilderment at the beautiful night sky.

The next morning it pissed it down with rain.

And then it stopped and the sun came out.

And then it started raining again.

And then it stopped and the sun came out.

And then is started raining again.

And so on and so forth, for the entire bloody day.

What this meant was that we had to keep switching from combats and anoraks to shorts and flip-flops all day. I reckon we had more wardrobe changes than bloody Madonna.

Fortunately our stalwart Sherpas came well prepared with ropes, tarps and a handy-dandy canopy, so the rain was, at worst, a minor inconvenience. We even managed to sneak in a quick swim in the lake while the sun was out, the scenery around which was breathtaking.

Mikala, being the woodland freak that she is, managed to make a new friend:

That afternoon Gregg chopped wood, Anita made more awesome camp tucker and Mikala and I provided moral support while drinking beer and chilling out.

In the evening we snuggled round the camp fire and told mysterious tales of teen-angst and school embarrassment. Which I won't bore you all with... what goes on camp stays on camp, I'm afraid! After a warming mug of cocoa, complete with marshmallows we called it a day and retired to our tee-pees.

The next day was fairly uneventful.

We chilled out and enjoyed the majestic scenery one more time before striking camp and re-burritoing the Volvo before heading back to civilisation for a much needed shower.

We had survived our first foray into the great Canadian outdoors!

Make Hay While the Sun Shines

2008-08-18T18:56:00.000-07:00

The gorgeous and much-missed Suzanne Hay paid the TayCave a visit this past weekend, on a quick three-day post-LA-business trip visit to hot and sunny Vancouver, and boy were we lucky to have her...and she was lucky to catch The Couve during a freak humid patch weekend, and got to see the city in all its glory.

What'd we get up to? We visited the retardedly cute un-named lard duvet that is the baby Beluga at the Vancouver Aquarium, had a pub lunch on the seawall, hit Robson and Granville for some concentrated shop-age, met Dan for cocktails at George in Yaletown, then snaffled up many plates at the maddeningly loud (but still delish) Sanafir restaurant.

Saturday, it was roasting but we were up at dawn for a trip to Tomato Central and the Farmer's Market where we ran into a Battlestar Galactican (more in another post). Then it was off to one of Van's bazillion beaches for a mishmash-up with a rag-tag assortment of mates: (VanBFF) Joy, Julie & Pete, Arthur & Kylie, Anita and her mate Jasmine. We swam in the sea mulch and deep fried in the sand.
Saturday night sent us in separate directions: Dan to a house party at one of his video game n-yerd friends (I mean that in the nicest way) and me and Suze to the v.cool (if the air-con was working, which it wasn't) Cascade Room bar/resto to meet up again with Anita, hubby Gregg (a former goth after my own heart) and Jasmine. We then rendezvoused with Dan, headed back to ours and cracked open our treasured Bison Grass Zubrowka vodka, brought in live and direct from the UK.
Sunday, we went for a very slow-paced amble up Main Street and then chilled out on our patios. Too soon, it was airport o'clock for Ms. Hay and we bid our adieus. *sniff*

Best friends really should visit more often. Hint, hint. ;-))

We Provide Sustenance

2008-08-05T19:17:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, we are so famous, even other bloggers write tributes to us.

Thanks Rahul - check out www.ok2passenge.blogspot.com for more nuggets of awesomeosity from the husband of Anna, the luvverly handmaiden of honour at our wedding.

Pride in Pictures

2008-08-05T17:48:00.000-07:00

My first Vancouver Pride weekend (also known as "Dan Gets Uninterrupted Guys' Video Game Playing Weekend) kicked off with a merry street party on Davie on Friday night and much fun with lovely mates Colin and Pieter. The bash saw upwards of 5,000 quirky queers literally wedged into a street-long huge pen. Not that the happy homos minded, natch, as they love a tight squeeze. ;-) And I, as one of few lay-deez in the zoo, didn't mind either - I knew what seems like half of the boys there from my various nights out with the aforementioned C&P.

Anyway! Saturday was the "East Side Pride/Dyke March" (pic above - it's in our neighbourhood so went with a bunch of mates), followed by a BBQ at Trout Lake Saturday night.
Sunday brought amazing blue skies, good friends (Sarah, Brit and me, above) and about a half a million people (literally) to the two-hour+ long Parade with countless floats, Grand Marshall Gilbert Baker, who created the rainbow flag Pride symbol (pic below)...
...and some Ab-Fab costumes. All hail the Patsy & Edwina-alikes!

Sadly, all was not merry and gay. We had a hugely disappointing night out at a club (Sarah described the few attendees as: "Hi, my name's Nan. I play baseball. Like my white sweat socks?") on Sunday night, from which we vamoosed to go to a local costume party near our place...only to rock up, breathe a sigh of relief that it was heaving and then hear "Thank you for coming out, this is the last song"! Yargh. Still, a good time was had by all...until next Pride!

Northern Exposure

2008-08-05T17:13:00.000-07:00

So I was up north a week ago on business doing some Very Important Work (TM) with the Northern BC region. The kind of work that is actually being put in front of Cabinet (not the Ikea kind, the political kind). I found myself a few nights in the horrendously zoned and un-pretty "big" city of Prince George (population 30K I think) and a small, pokey community about 40 clicks off of the fun "wooo, we're on our way to Alaska!" highway called Mackenzie - home of the...
Being in the North, and all, I desperately wanted to see a bear. And lo, everyone I came across up there in "Bear Country" promised me I would. "This road always has bears near it" my NBC colleague (Hilary, pictured above at Hart Lake) said as we drove through forests, sadly devastated by pine-beetle infestation. Ever see a black forest? I now have. Dubbed them "Goth Trees".

"Oh, we saw three bears this morning" another said. "Bears? Every day, pretty much - just down that road." "See that there field filled with blueberries? Bears there all the time." But do you think I saw a single, chuffing Teddy? WAHHHHHH! Clearly all the bears had received a memo that I was coming and decided to stay in deep cover, having their bloody picnics, sitting in other people's chairs and taking up arms. So, no bears.

Or anyfink else for that matter. In fact, when we rocked up at 7am to the Mackenzie Nature Preserve to see the oddbins there weighing and tagging birdies, they said to us "Nope, quiet morning. Not many in the nets today, but you just missed a hummingbird." So, what - I'm now scaring even sodding birds away? Finally, they came back with a few birds in the hand (the other two were in the bush, fnar) and I felt my city-slicker-curse wearing off. So finally, driving back from the marsh we did see a baby moose (mini moose?). Forgive my heinously rubbish camera, but the thing was miles away...Most exictingly (no, really, this was cool) - we found a fabulous lake teeming with tadpoles. Watch the video. Listen with the sound cranked up high. You'll learn something.

This is a tale of some castaways

2008-07-21T09:27:00.000-07:00

While the rest of y'all do work team bonding in the form of "I'll fall back and you catch me" or "have another pint", half of Tourism BC's web team (l-r: me, my office roomie/mate Sarah, boss William and search marketing guy Dimitriy) spent Sunday on Dimitriy's sailboat, adrift somewhere in American waters, and getting crazy suntan raccoon eyes. We even had to bring our passports - D's boat is moored off this nutso little place called Point Roberts, which, while attached to BC, is actually American territory. Cue heeelarious visit to the US border control office (we all were forced to laugh at the guard's rubbish "Show me the money" joke as he held our passports), and a visit to the scary International Food Market which was filled to the rafters with lard and weird Americans. Still, I got to cross another "never done that before" thing off my list. And we saw a seal. Woot!

About Bloody Time

2008-07-12T19:03:00.001-07:00

Finally! The Canadian Summer is here - OH YEAH!

Now that the sun is shining like an awesome shiny thing, and we don't have anywhere to be or anything to do, Mikala and I have finally been able to have a weekend chillin' in the sun.

What did we get up to? Weeeeell...

First off we went to the farmers' market (just round the corner from The Taycave, and which Mikala has blogged about, ahem, extensively) to pick up some tomatoes, monster cukes, tasty lamb and roast-garlic-&-Monterrey-Jack sourdough. Today's unusual market purchase: mutton! Someone in the queue reckons it tastes lamby. We shall see....baa.

Then we prepared an impromptu pic-a-nic basket and headed to Trout Lake - also just round the corner from Chez Tay. After enjoying a delicious repast and a few sneaky ales in the sun ( I say "sneaky" because drinking outdoors is illegal in Canada - ridiculous, I know...) Mikala and I swam out to the pontoon in the middle of the lake for a spot of chillin' and bombin'.

Then we swam back for Pimms and pizza sur le balcon at home. Mmmmm.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand relaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaax.

x

Dan.

850 Calories A Day, 3 Injections a Week, No Booze for 10 months+

2008-07-09T21:13:00.000-07:00

BEFORE

AFTER

RESULT: I've lost a baby beluga.

Hawkmen... DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!

2008-07-05T17:21:00.000-07:00

OK, there are no two ways about this: hawks are cool.

Vultan, king of the Hawkmen, from Flash Gordon? Cool.

Steely-eyed space-assassin, "Hawk", from Buck Rodgers? Also cool.

Dodgy 70's sci-fi aside, let me tell you in advance that the following story contains the aforementioned birds of prey and is, therefore... cool.

So... the other day I was taking the Skytrain to work... Speaking of which, what would you rather ride every morning? The Skytrain or the Underground? Skytrain? Under ground? Yeah, whatever - suckers of Londone Towne: Vancouver isn't the city with the highest quality of life in the world because it forces its inhabitants to commute in subterranean sardine tins!

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes: ...Skytrain to work! Anyway, as I was going through the Skytrain station I spotted a lady wearing a fluorescent yellow waistcoat; the sort of garment usually favoured by street sweepers and the like. I mistakenly assumed that she was there to pick up litter... until I spotted the dirty great (wait for it...) hawk perched on her arm.

Intrigued by this strange sight, I went over to say hello...
"Nice hawk." Said I.
"Why thank you. My falcon is in the car resting." she replied.
"And what, if you don't mind me asking, brings you to the Skytrain with two birds of prey?" I enquired.
"We use them to get rid of pigeons" she replied matter-of-factly.

How cool is that?!!?!?

They use the hawks to kill the pigeons!!!

Can you imagine Red Ken deploying that kind of pest control in Trafalgar Square? A squadron of kestrel descending from Nelson's Column, raining down taloned vengeance on, what are essentially, rats with wings. Maybe he could get a few bald eagles in to take out some tourists as well... one can but dream.

Anyway, my point is that, with hawks being so cool, the fact that Vancouver uses them to get rid of pigeons, which are inherently un-cool, is a consummate victory for coolness. Viva Vancouver!

Until next time, my feathered friends...

DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!

x

Dan.

NB: Yes, we know Red Ken is no longer mayor. :-)

Simple Pleasures

2008-07-05T11:51:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm a bit special. I do like my slimy animals, me. So in addition to the garden-dwelling otter we saw last weekend, feast your eyes on the kewl creatures of the deep (and the Bowen Island forest) that we've met recently:

The rare Bowen Island Camo Slug. He uses his cloak of invisibility to move effortlessly across the forest floor at Mach -346.

Baked, not fried.

So long and thanks for all the fish
So sad that it should come to this
We tried to warn you all but oh dear!

You may not share our intellect
Which might explain your disrespect
For all the natural wonders that
grow around you

So long, so long and thanks
for all the fish

The world's about to be destroyed
There's no point getting all annoyed
Lie back and let the planet dissolve

Despite those nets of tuna fleets
We thought that most of you were sweet
Especially tiny tots and your
pregnant women

With friends like these, who needs anenomes?

The rare Mink Frog. Its skin secretes a hallucinogenic toxin. But instead of you licking it, it licks you.

xMikala

One of my top five meals of all time

2008-07-05T11:38:00.001-07:00

Holy crap, the food at Sooke Harbour House is good!

No, no - better than that.

Last weekend Mikala and I went on a bit of a road trip to the remote area of Vancouver Island known as Sooke (which clever readers may remember from the Christmas before last). "Why?" I hear you ask. I'll tell you why...

The restaurant at Sooke Harbor House is run by Chef Edward Tuson who is somewhat of a kitchen renegade (seen here brandishing a large prosciutto ham, which he probably raised from a wee piglet himself).

He insists on...

1) Changing his menu daily, depending on what food is freshly available
2) Gets all his ingredients from within 100Km of his kitchen
3) Grows most of the herbs and vegetables in the hotel's 4 acre certified organic garden
4) Cook with the craziest stuff - from flower petals to beaver tails.

Well, OK, he doesn't cook beaver tails, but if he did I am sure they would taste awesome.

Needless to say the food here is phenomenal. Here is what Mikala (now, thankfully, in the maintenance phase of her diet) and I chowed down on:

Starter: The famous Sooke Harbor House Salad
Now this is not your common or garden salad (see what I did there?) Chef Tuson makes this from a delicious melange of wild, organic greens and a sprinkling of edible flower blossoms from the aforementioned garden. It's then dusted off with a light mustard rosemary dressing and the resulting taste sensation is truly remarkable.

Entree: Wilted Greens & Goat's Cheese Tart
With a delicious red onion, poppy seed and chervil salad.
The cheese was so fresh tasting I wouldn't have been surprised if it was still just milk a few hours early.

Main Course: Roasted Lamb Loin with a sun-dried tomato, butter-milk sauce and nodding onion oil, served on a shitake mushroom & barley crepe roll with a spinach and sweet pepper salad.

This is the best thing I have ever eaten. The lamb was rare, succulent and flavoursome. It can only be described as... emotional. I may have wept...

Desert: Rhubarb Souffle with candied angelica, served with a Chardonnay poached rhubarb compote and angelica Ice-cream

The souffle was like a party in my mouth - Oh... my... God. This was almost certainly because the rhubarb had been picked from the hotel's garden a few hours previously. We found out later that the Angelica is grown in the garden and candied for six days before being turned into ice-cream, the taste of which is really unusual - Mikala and I couldn't decide if it was pistachio, mint or something else entirely so, in the end, we had to ask the maître d'.

The missus had the white chocolate mousse, which came served with wild Nootka roses, alpine strawberries and a strawberry mint sorbet. It was also rather good.

This delicious meal came with a lovely wine paring - if you ever have the opportunity to purchase a bottle of La Frenz 2006 Semillon, then do. Don't think about it, don't hesitate, just get it. Best... wine... ever.

Needless to say the night was finished off with a glass or two of Canados - a Canadian Calvados (clever, eh?) and the customary selection of baby cheeses, which, despite it not being Yuletide, were still very tasty.

The next day, to top things off, we were treated to a tour fo the hotel gardens, where the head gardener pulled up all sorts of exotic flowers & herbs for us to taste. WHen we told her how much we enjoyed the nodding onions, she was kind enough to give us a plant to take how so we could add them to our ever growing balcony herb garden. Sweet!

Now all wee need is some sheep on the spare balcony and we'll be sorted...

:)

Dan.

Why is the monkey lost?

2008-07-05T11:03:00.000-07:00

Because da jungle is massif!

That's right my drum 'n' bass brethren - at long last Mikala and I have finally scored some quality clubbing here in The Couve. Courtesy of a tip-off from our slightly deranged but totally awesome Aussie mates, Kylie and Arthur, we are now hooked up with Vancouver's junglist posse.

So, what better way to celebrate our "cotton" wedding anniversary than with a trip to see LTJ Bukem and MC Conrad mix it up at The Plaza?

I wanted to get Conrad to do a wedding anniversary shout-out, but Mikala put the breaks on that idea in a (fairly sensible) bid to protect our street cred. Spoil-sport.

And, this Canada Day, what could have been more patriotic than a crazy midnight mosh-up with king of the cheeky rewind, Shy FX, and his good chum DJ Hype?

And why is it that drum & bass artistes all have to have so many acronyms in their name? Even the super cute Vancouver D&B mistress, B Traits (who Mikala and I both love) can't resist the urge to acronise.

More annoyingly, however, is the fact that all these wikkid bust-ups are always on a fucking* school night! And, to make matters worse, the headliners never come on until the witching-hour chimes, meaning that poor little Dan and Mikala get about , ooooooh, three hours sleep before having to haul our sorry asses into work.

Still, that's why God invented You Tube...

Respec' to the massif!
x
Dan.

*Sorry, Mum.

Fair Market Value

2008-07-05T10:20:00.001-07:00

10.21 am, Saturday. Back from the Farmer's Market with a fascinating tomato update. ;-) By the time I arrived, 15 minutes before the "time to sell" bell, Gipaanda Tomatoes had 25 people in the queue, 50 by the time I got in and got out and were sold out of their mandarin yellow toms when I scooped the last handful.

THEY'RE LIKE CRACK I TELL YOU! Made off with a full-salad bowl's worth brimming with 8 different types (pink, black, orange, yellow and tomato berries - but decided to skip on the one called "The Beast"), all grown a mere 30km from here. The English Cucumber I bought also top-trumped the one I mention in the blog below: instead of saying "picked yesterday" this Cukezilla was picked at....erm, at 6am this morning. How awesome?

Also made away with a bunch of white irises, some wild coho salmon for cedar planking on the BBQ, a huge fillet of Ling Cod from the Queen Charlotte Islands way up north, a bag of peppers and some to-die for Okanagan Cherries.

Who's coming for dinner?

xMikala

This Little Piggie Went to Market

2008-07-04T23:47:00.000-07:00

One of the ace things about living where we do is that we're only a few short blocks away from one of the city's best summer farmers' markets at Trout Lake. Every Saturday (from May-October), I haul arse out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8.30am so Dan and I can get to market, to market for its opening bell. Why, you may ask? I'll show you why...

Yup. The foodie in me hath reawakened. With a vengeance. And it's hungry for lycopene.

Every few weeks, the Gipaanda Greenhouse duo come down to sell their 15 varieties of greenhouse toms - and these babies are the shizzle. They're like candy. And it's cool to know that the person selling you their red, orange, pink, yellow cherry toms, is usually the same person who picked the things. In fact, I am so obsessed with these balls of redly goodness that I buy kilos of them whenever Gipaanda are in-stalled. I even have their schedule bookmarked. I usually also eat most of the $30 I usually spunk, over the course of two days. *Burp* Creepy and scary 'cos we're really only talking about tomatoes? Perhaps. But my salads rock mob-style and are almost as good as...

...Iron Maiden's sashimi-grade albacore tuna that we also cannae live without and which we buy to throw on GrillKong, or Celyddon Farms' cucumbers that list the date they were picked (usually "yesterday") , or the San Pareil brie from frazzled woman at Little Qualicum Cheeseworks, or Dan's favourite hot tapenade, Skoogh, sold by the entertaining Jewish guy who fronts "Golda's Finest Foods". Stomach rumbling yet?

Mine is. But it's time for bed. For tomorrow I hunt and hit the ENORMOUS Gipaanda queue early before the ones that look like strawberries disappear. Oink!

xMikala

Beaver Shot....

2008-07-04T23:36:00.000-07:00

....well, actually, it's an otter. Soz to disappoint. ;-)

Wildlife is plentiful in British Columbia. But the last place you expect to see a wild otter is in the gardens of the Sooke Harbour House (more on that weekend above). Otter madness I tell ye!

xMikala

Canada D'eh

2008-07-03T20:22:00.000-07:00

July 1, 2008 - Trout Lake - the inner city park near our flat replete with lake, greenery and panpipes (a South American family took up lawn near us, we didn't bring 'em). Add in Dan's former-goth, music fan workmate Gregg, Mikala's VanBFF Joy and BBQ'd tandoori chicken, salads, home-made dips and Danmade margaritas, plus some strange burning ball in the sky, and you get one very chill, no-stress Cancouver Day. But too many boozy lemonades (for Dan at least) + lots of rays = Dan passed out on our bed at 4pm. And a good thing too - we had to rest before going out clubbing that night at 11pm to see ShyFx with our kooky fluorescent-red-dreaded-tattooed-pierced Aussie mate Kylie. UK Drum n' bass in da house on a school night? What could be more Canadian? :-)

Uncle Fester Eludes Me Again

2008-06-23T22:23:00.000-07:00

WARNING: BLOG CONTAINS BILE AND MANY SWEAR WORDS

Many of you have been bored sh*tless by my music ramblings on this blog, so apologies. But as an equal number of you have asked about the Cure gig I went to on May 26, here goes...

I had okay seats, but about 23 rows back. Then I entered a contest in the Georgia Straight. I made what turned out to be a well-planned wisecrack and plea about being one of the last-remaining "aging goths" who would be able to buy "a bat-shaped coffin and die happily if she won," and well...erm...won front-row tickets.

That, above, is what Fat Bob looks like now - a mush of Uncle Fester, the Joker and, as one reviewer put it, Sully from Monsters Inc. Yes, I know, terrifying. But that is what the Cure look like from the front bloody row! Imagine this is one of your two favourite bands. You're in a small stadium and in front of you is your idols, butt ugly as they are, but still, your idols. Behind you - EVERYONE else. *Raspberries*

Anyway, I thought this year was going to be THE year that I get to meet Robert Smith. Finally. I'd put in photo requests with the promoter, interview requests with the record company and bribed a good mate of a mate (who was doing their bleedin' lights) with beer, to get me backstage. Did any come through? PAH. I guess I cashed in my good karma chips when I got the front-row seats. Shouldn't complain, now should I? WAHHHHHH!

It was the Rock Devil's way of saying: "Mikala, if you meet Robert Smith, that'll be it. Nothing to aspire to. No sense of purpose. He's avoided you for 23 years. Sorry, mate, but he'll only let you down 'cos he's fat and hairy and awkward and probably smells of wee now. So here, as a consolation prize, take these front-row tickets. Off with ye."

So me and Beth grinned like gurnsome fools from the front row as they played for THREE hours. A superb show, despite Robert with a flu. Every little movement of Robert's wonderful awkwardness captured on my shit little camera (279 photos taken - 10 useable).

Ecstatic after the triumphant event, I even stood at the back bloody door, in the cold, for 2.5 hours, hoping upon hope, to finally meet Robert Smith.

"Hello my name is Mikala, and I'm a f(cking idiot."

I did meet the drummer Jason (yeah, but he's the drummer), and was lied to and truthed to by various roadies (nice roadie told me the truth that Bob was still inside at 1.30am and gave me all his Canadian change, a guitar pick of Porl's, and Graham - the lighting guy - gave me a stack of old set lists). I hung out with kids half my age - and a few oldsters, too. One preggers woman actually stayed until 1am - I was secretly hoping she'd say to Robert: "are you my baby daddy?"

One of the mini-pops I was chatting with trundled off eventually, with some uber-fanatical US fans, and took up stalking Robert at this other door, way around the corner from where I was. I did not know this. They clearly had some sort of goth homing device that I'd long since lost when I got a mortgage.

I thought she'd left. I realized she hadn't, when at 2am, she came running around the corner squealing that she'd just met Robert Smith, had the photo and autograph to prove it, and sorry she didn't come get me earlier but she didn't want to chance missing him. F*cker comes out a different door cos he's scared of six fans? Grrrrrrr. Nice one, fatty! And screw you babygoth!

I'd lost my touch and my final attempt at meeting Robert Smith. But on the plus side, I've recently regained some of scruples and vow never to stand outside a backdoor in the cold waiting for a band again - unless it's for John Taylor.

Or unless I'm walking out of that backdoor - with the band. :-)

My Wings Are Like A Shield of Steel!

2008-06-20T08:46:00.000-07:00

Thing to cross off my never-having-done-this-before list: travel by floatplane.

Had a work orientation day in Victoria on Tuesday. The boss let me and a colleague go up a day before so we wouldn't have to get an arse-crack-of-dawn flight, and we flew by Harbour Air. Ie, five-minute-walk from office to Vancouver's downtown harbour, then 35min float plane journey over Stanley Park and Lion's Gate Bridge, past the sand flats, over lush islands, before descending in quite a James-Bondy sort of way right into the water of Victoria's quaint and picturesqwee harbour. Monday afternoon was spent at the TBC Victoria head office, then shopping on the fab little Johnston St, followed by a lovely fish bouillabaise at a cool Vic resto and night in a VERY awesome boutique hotel. Again, I say this: my job rocks.En route, I saw an eagle below, and a porpoise. BC's fucking awesome.

So why aren't any of you visiting this summer?

License to Grill

2008-05-27T21:53:00.000-07:00

One of the shit things about living in a condo, even one as rocking as ours, is that, apparently, it's against the law to start a fire on your balcony. No buts - fire on the balcony = bad. This kinda puts the kibosh on our summer barbecue plans... or at least it would, were it not for this beast:

That's right muchachos: what you're looking at is a state-of-the-monkey-funkin'-art Weber Genesis LPG barbecue. In super slick stainless steel, no less. And it's totally OK to have one of these gas powered infernos in or around your condo (I don't see how this is any safer than any other flame producing device but, alas, I don't make the rules).

Now I know what you are thinking - "Have you gone loco, Dan, gas barbecues are cheating - how could you forsake the honest, manly toil of starting a fire. And what about the unbeatable aroma of charcoal?" Well, fret ye not: the faithful, old kettle has not been put out to pasture - she's being saved for camping trips and that fateful day when I, Mikala and any potential sprogs, have to up sticks and move slightly further out of town to a big fucking house with a nice leafy garden. And a shed.

And while we are on the subject of gardens I recently found time to install these too...

We now have two new balcony-mounted planters for our very own little herb garden. Mikala, green-fingered goddess that she is, nurtured these leafy fronds from mere seeds and then transferred them over from our herb nursery (nice one, Gab)...

We've got basil, rosemary, thyme, oregano, dill, chives, parsley, coriander and sage (for some reason our Thai basil just won't grow - the slacker). All of these jolly green fellows will be plucked, chopped and tossed into whatever delicious culinary concoction we are whipping up at the time. Hopefully it will be something involving grilled meat* as that barbecue was not cheap...

Catch you later!
Love,
Dan.
x

*The coriander will be going straight into Danburgers, of course...

Nice Work if You Can Get It

2008-05-04T09:21:00.000-07:00

Even though spring has fully sprungeth, I thought I'd belatedly share with you some wintery cool pics from my five-day business trip. Pretend you're in Dr. Who or The Sarah Connor Chronicles and are able to jump back in time...to the end of March. There yet? Good! Because that's when the Tourism BC team went on a Ski Resort "FAM"(iliarization) Trip - to four of the BC interior's top Ski resorts: Sun Peaks, Revelstoke, Silverstar and Big White.

Sounds dreadful, huh? ;-) It was actually work - presentations, breakfast meetings, lots of driving, and what seemed like 80-billion accommodations to assess. But it's really a chance for the ski people to show us what they're made of. And let us do some downhill skiing. And snowshoeing. And cross-country skiing. And helicoptering.

Here are some Mikala-in-action shots for your delectation and delight! Come with us now on a journey through time and space...
...to the world of night cross-country skiing at Sun Peaks resort near Kamloops. Think flashlights, drunk people, and the president of the resort making us hot choco and Baileys along the run. And bruising our asses from falling over, 'cos you can't snow-plow in a x-country track... Oh and 2nd from left in this pic of my workmates? That's Nancy Greene. She's got a huge stake in Sun Peaks and has helped to promote it for aeons. She is also the 1968 Grenoble Olympic gold and silver medal winner for downhill skiing, STILL maintains a Canadian World Cup record with 13 wins AND was named the Canadian female athlete of the century. But her most impressive achievements? Helping Mikala on and off with her fiddly x-country skis, being generally mad as a bogbrush and a bit of a laugh! Give the woman another Gold!Next day was skiing fresh powder, wide open spaces and best of all? No Whistler-style crowds, queues or slicing and dicing around me. That's me on the left, the Michelin Woman, looking not skinny at all because I'm wearing all of Dan's gear. But the ace thing about Sun Peaks is that it: a) is sunny b) has super powdery snow and c) is not overrun with posh twats or Japanese three-year olds who zoom by you. Good runs over three mountains too! Mountains a little more manageable than this one...
...at Revelstoke. This is a view from my hotel room balcony, by the way. Just a bit pretty huh? Rev was the next resort on our tour, and is in the process of being built (the resort that is, the mountains were there AGES ago ;-) but the runs have just opened. It's a little hill for those same posh twats I mentioned earlier - the serious Johnny Adventurers with money. Fancy a heliski? Cat-ski? Or a bazillion-dollar condo? A million black diamond runs? A super-fast gondola up into the heavens? This will be the place to do it. In fact, it practically had a sign at the top that said "Mikala, dear, you're too rubbish. Don't even bother. Descend now and don't sully our pistes". So I did. Sadly, I didn't ski Revelstoke, though my colleagues did. But I did escape with my life and managed to save enough excitement for...
....our helicopter ride to the top of the peaks for a mountain-goat's eye view! That's me and Karen, one of our researchers. Note the look of glee as we take off through the clouds and to the very top ...

Wheeeeeee!

The next day it was off to the Aussie-owned Silver Star and Big White Mountains to be wined and dined and put up in a posh condo with our own hot tub on the balcony. A view of nothing but mountains and trees. No, really, nothing but mountains and trees. So when the Big White people told us that we were in prime sunrise-watching position, me and a colleague Mark decided to drag our bruised arses out of bed at 5.45am and hop into the hot tub....

....And relax!

Not a bad job, eh?

Did I mention that work is also sending me to Toronto on May 29 (my birthday!) for a day of training? And that they're letting me spend the whole weekend and Monday there (as the trip overlaps with my government-sanctioned "regularly scheduled day off") - so I get to spend my 35th birthday in Toronto with my mum and mates?

No?

;-)

Men at 'Werk

2008-04-30T09:38:00.000-07:00

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Duran Duran was in town last night! I am a 13 year-old girl again, not a sad 30+ something with too much disposable income! No!

Turned up early at the venue to collect my tickets and while waiting for Dan wandered over to where the tour buses were parked to check things out. You know, 'cos my GroupieDar (TM) was going off and it was soundcheck o'clock. A whole 7 minutes later, a van pulls in and Nick, Simon, John and Roger pour out, turning around to wave at us and smile. They didn't come over, sadly, but Nick sent their tour manager to us to ask if we were sorted for tickets. Nice chap! How awesome is my timing? Kind of Jean Grey/X-Men pyschic awesome.

The gig was amazing. And so it bloody well should be - we had fourth row centre tickets! Alas, my poor crappy camera was only up to half the task (and batteries died two songs in, though a lovely girl behind me gave me a pair to use for the rest of the show!) and got some pretty blurry shots, but still.

Highlights? Besides being that close to the *cough* "boys" so that I could see Roger Taylor chewing gum, Nick making weird vocoder sounds through "The Reflex", John scrunching his wrinkly face up and the big wheel of cheese that is Mr. Le Bon, I think Dan (so patient and lush for even coming with!) and I would both say the smiley bits were thus:

The three fans I met earlier in the afternoon outside the venue being the target of an Unknown Gunman attack. Seems that mere seconds after Dan and I left them to their stalk-age, they were pelted with paintballs from an undisclosed grassy knoll. Even the traffic police had to get involved! Could it be the guys from Spandau Ballet firing their jealousy shots? "I know this/much is/truuuuue/SPLAT!"
The Kraftwerk-esque "homage" set where they all stood stage-front straddling keyboards and sequencers. They even played 80s minimalist rubbish track "Warm Leatherette" by Grace Jones! Oooee! Dan thought that bit was naff but I liked JT's "Dance Like Your Dad Doing the Robot" moves! ;-) "All She Wants Is" sounded particularly cool, too (see video!).

The Bra. Not just any bra. Jupiter's mother's bra. A HUGE, ginormous, bigger-than-I-used-to-be frilly white bra with boulder holders larger than the solar system's biggest planet chucked up on stage. Cue Simon promptly trying not to die laughing as he lay it out at the foot of Nick's keyboards. Bless.
JT remarking that Van seemed like a pretty nice place to live (he could stay with me, couldn't he?), and Simon quipping "And, have you noticed that there's lots of good-looking people here, too?" "Well, Simon," cooed John, "I hadn't actually thought of that, but you're right..."

Simon winking and smiling like a goon at me several times. Even those around me noticed. One girl even turned back to see who he was making eyes at. Let's face it, with the first three rows filled with mingers or boyfriends of mingers, I was looking like a pretty tasty focus point. LOL! John was simply too dazzled by my beauty to do the same, alas.

Simon's "adjustments". Dude honestly must have thought "If I pull my shirt out of my trousers to expose my fuzzy, blubbery midriff, then when I tuck it in, it'll simply look like I'm tucking in my shirt, instead of reaching round and giving my balls a good grab and hoist." That's right Porky, none of us noticed!

Minky is a happy camper. Now where did I put my flourescent tights, slatted gold plastic sunglasses and big shoulder-pads?

Chip Vs. Chimp: Fight!

2008-04-27T21:05:00.000-07:00

Right, Mikala has done far too much music reportage on this blog: I am calling the shots now and I say... ah... more music reportage. Only this time I'll do it.

So this week we've been flying along at Gig Factor 9.2 (if you get that obscure Trek reference then pat yourself on the head and make a mental note to get out more). We have done not one... not two... well actually, yes, two... two full school-night, music gigs. Verily, we doth rock.

I'll start with the most recent one: electro-pop meisters Simian Mobile Disco. Now I love SMD: their beats are fresh, dope and phat. Unfortunately their "live" sets are shite. And here's why...

They spent half of the gig with their backs to the audience, due to their shit stage layout. This, however, wasn't a problem because...
All they were doing was twiddling knobs. Orbital can get away with this because they are possibly the finest techno band ever. Simian Mobile Disco, on the other hand, are mere electro upstarts. This, also however, was not a problem because...
Their light rig was sooooooooooooo fucking bright you couldn't face the stage without feeling like you were standing on the surface of The Sun. I shit ye not. Full-on mega strobes mounted directly at eye-level: I had to look away, close my eyes and put my hands over my face to avoid permanent retinal damage. I was lucky to escape with just a sunburn on the back of my neck...

OI, SIMIANS - WE'RE OVER HERE!

So, not a great gig then. Which is a shame because I quite like The Simians and their music is top notch. But really, I might have well stayed at home, cranked up the stereo and poured battery acid into my eyes - it would have delivered much the same experience.

To be fair, SMD did have their work cut out for them, because Monday night's Hot Chip gig was, quite frankly...

THE BEST GIG I HAVE EVER BEEN TO!*

Yes that's right - Hot Chip are awesome. And not just any kind of "awesome" - their awesomeosity demands itallicisation.

Hot Chip took me completely by surprise, too - their album is dismissible: it's fun to listen to, but generally nothing more than cheerful techno-rock nonsense. When they bounded up on stage they looked like the sort of band Ross from Friends might have featured in - not cool at all. However their set is full on. Check it out...

Lights not too bright? Check!
Facing the audience? Check!
Actually playing their instruments? Check!
Crowd going bonkers? Check!
Dude humping a keyboard? Check!
This band has got it all!

Their live stuff sounds nothing like the album - forget eleven, these guys go straight up to twelve. Whilst I may have liked them before, now I LOVE them!

Anyway, that's it from me (for now). Normal gig reporting service will resume next week, as I am sure Mikala will want to wrestle the reigns back from me. Apparently we're going to see some crappy 80's band from Birmingham on Tuesday...

;)

Dan.

*After Alice Cooper, of course.

POSTSCRIPT from Mikala:

Read the first of a series of Hot Chip interviews with Joe Goddard, by yours truly!

In fact, the Vancouver Hot Chip gig was so good, they even mention it on their own website: "We've just returned home after a four week tour of theatres, venues and deserts in the USA and Canada. The tour was very fun, all the way from New York to Coachella, with some wild and crazy dancing along the way (a special mention goes to Vancouver on that front)." See? It wasn't just us! :-)))

Running Man

2008-04-20T17:35:00.000-07:00

Apparently Mikala says I have to apologise for my lack of bloggery.

So "sorry" - I will scribe some retro-blogs so you can get up to speed on the story so far (Battlestar Galactica stylee). And speaking of "speed"...

I just did a 10K run!

And not just any run: the biggest 10K run IN THE WORLD!

Every year Vancouver is host to The Sun Run - a ten kilometer race across downtown Van's parks, bridges and streets. About 60,000 people (i.e: the biggest run IN THE WORLD - did I say that already?) did the Sun Run this year, starting right in the centre of town and winding their way through the city, culminating at BC Place - Vancouver's large sports stadium.

Check out the route here.

My aim was to run it in less than fifty minutes - a pretty lofty goal.

"But, Dan - how did you hope to accomplish such a task?" I hear you ask.

Well, I trained with my Nike+ system by running 6K to and from work every other day (my legs are now like columns of wrought steel). I ate carbs the night before (Mikala made ravioli). And I put loads of banging techno on my iPod.

Exceptionally banging techno.

No no - banginger than that.

Yeah that's right: ultra-banging. Good. Moving on...

The mood at the start was ebullient as all the keeners in the 'Couve gathered at half eight on a chilly, but sunny, Sunday morn. Actually, we had a spot of luck with the weather as it was snowing the day before (crazy West Coast weather...)

After a brief mosh through the crowded starting gate, the race was on!

The first section was deceptively easy - a nice downhill stretch. But as soon as you hit the first corner it's uphill and you suddenly realise that you are running way too fast. Because I qualified to start in the "Super Fast" section of the race grid (yes, I was suprised too) people were passing me for most of the race. This was a little depressing... However, little did they know that I was holding back some energy (and the bangingest tracks on my playlist) for the final 2K.

Speaking of which, my playlist was specially co-ordinated with the race route so I had chilled tracks for the uphill sections, faster tracks for the downhill bits and "Power Choons" for around the 6K mark, which is where I guessed (correctly) that I would start losing the will to live. I also had an emergency "Dan you are not going to do this in under fifty minutes - hurry the fuck up!" track at the 45 minute mark, just in case. Fortunately, due to aforementioned energy-holding-back, "You Got The Touch" by Stan Bush was not needed. In fact, on the home straight I was "Señor Overtakio", whizzing down the hill pasting all the fat fucks that had the cheek to wobble past me earlier.

I burnt passed the finish line and checked my time - 46' 58": su-weet!

Mikala, who was watching from the finish line, reckons that I was in the top 1000, maybe even 500. Not bad. Not bad at all...

Having rendezvoused with my other half, we went up to the stadium to get energy drinks and bananas. I also had to wait for my other valiant team-mates from EA (yeah, I was the fastest).

The stadium was pretty heaving by the time most of them rocked up and then it was on to my next test of physical superiority: the biggest God-damned breakfast the Templeton had to offer - VICTORYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!

:)

Dan.

Da Jungle (in Mexico) is Massif!

2008-04-14T17:45:00.000-07:00

Just back from Mehico - complete with lizard-like sunburn, peeling and a sense of accomplishment. Had a great tour with an amazing Eco-tour company in Playa called Alltournative. The day-trip Jungle Crossing took us in a Mercedes Benz Unimog (basically an old Army-type truck with serious heft) that took us down a rock-laden, very bumpy jungle path to a fully enclosed eerie cave called Nohoch Na Chich, where Dan was eager...
...while Mikala was a bit more tentative...
...that is, until she was be-flippered and tooled up in her super-posh, pro snorkel gear (which Dan had given her for her bday three years ago). Dan says he couldn't keep up! So we snorkelled in the crystal-clear, cool, dark caves for a bit, among the bats a few feet above us (batty Mikala was well excited by her unexpected flying friends), aided only by our guide's flashlight and the photographer/diver's camera flash. We were pretty chuffed to see amazing stalactites and stalacmites...
Look at our happy little faces! :-) Then, it was on to another cenote on a ranch, where we crawled down a long ladder in a tiny hole to another cenote, and jumped in!
Note the look of glee as we crawl to our deaths* for more snorkellage in a pool so clear you could eat off it. Eating off it is exactly what some of the crazy, gnarled tree roots had done, and the root system flowed down through the earth and cracks in the cave, stopping an inch or so above the water. Plenty of space underneath to conk unsuspecting Dan as he snorkelled by.

That awesomeosity was followed by some chilling at a Mayan ranch, with a meal cooked by the local family - achiote chicken, rice, tortillas, veg soup, hot sauce that blew Dan's mouth off, and tamarind or hibiscus-tinted water.

Then we drove towards Akumal, and rocked up at a brilliantly gorgeous beach, where we hopped into our kayak...
...and paddled out to a gorgeous reef, to do some more gorgeous fishy-spotting. Will publish the photos if any turn out from our water-proof disposable. Gosh! Aren't we happy in all these photos! Hurray! Arriba! Andale!

In all, an utterly muy bonito day and more to come...

*Okay, not really. But there's something kinda thrilling about flinging yourself into a hole and some crazy caves.

Louis XIV: "Me, Me, Me, is all I really want to talk about"

2008-03-29T23:42:00.000-07:00

Dan promises to write more, he swears. I give him shit about this almost daily. But in the meantime, let me tell you about the awesome Friday night I had. The rock mobster is back in full form. Even Dan was well impressed with how rockly my evening went - bless him and his tolerance for my groupie-like tendencies and piddling obsessions. Woe betide those who marry Geminis! Still, he knows I'm his number-one fan always. :-)) Anyway!

Interviewed the gorgeously fuzzy and cuddly San Diego rock band Louis XIV - you may remember me harping on about them when I saw them open for the Editors about two months ago. Anyway, I adore them, haven't taken their discs off my iPOD since then. Recommend "Slick Dogs and Ponies" and "Best Little Secrets Are Kept" if you fancy having a nose.

Had a great interview with Jason Hill (first pic, above), the band's lead singer, before the show, then met up with my mates Julie and Joy for dinner before the early gig. Jay and I got on super-well and he gave good quote. He's sweet, and passionate about what they do (crunchy 70s rock, with nice texture, strings, lots of dirty innuendo and flat-out come-ons) and I really dug him and other guitarist Brian when I met them briefly in Feb at the Commodore. Anyway, we hit it off, (in only the way that a well-behaved married woman and with-girlfriend rock singer can) and he said he'd come out and find me after the show. They were all sick as dogs from a cold that had breezed through their bus (and our flat - I'm ill again too), but soldiered through the gig. A bit restrained, but still...just ace. Sounded brilliant.

Afterwards, Jay comes out as promised, looking about, sniffling from the flu, clutching a glass of brandy, and we chat. A local bar promoter prostrates himself at Jay's feet, inviting him to come to his local club, where the band's ultra-cute bassist Jimmy (second pic, above) agreed to go DJ, at around midnight (the gig finished early). Girls filter by and ask for signatures and he flirts with a few younglings, but sticks close to me. I tease him about having to be a good boy. He looks a bit sheepish and agrees that being good is best, yes. He's harmless.

Joy comes by, we make introductions and he asks us if we'd like to join them on the bus. I, of course, am in like Flynn. We hop on board and Brian's all smiles (now that he remembers his drunken come-on to me at the Commodore), and it's just Joy, me and the entire band. We all chill out - most of 'em have the dreaded lurgy, so it's low-key but lovely. We laugh a lot.

I suggest it'd be more rock if the band's tourbus had a sauna or a jacuzzi on it and Jay pleads for me to put that in my articles. So we joke about how best to perpetuate the myth. I chat with lovely drummer Mark Maigaard about his Danish/Swedish background and joke that I wanted a drumstick for my collection. He gives me two. I am devolving to my 18-year-old self and it feels fucking grand. Good times, those old days, and nice to reprise them again now!

I tell Brian he should update the band's MySpace blog more, and if he can't be arsed, I could write it. The band all agree that I should...

...so I did. Why not? I crafted something speedily and in good humour. Sent it to them today for a laugh as I know Brian checks their emails there, and got an email back from him super-sharpish, telling me that I "rule", that he loves the blog and that I was "a pleasure to hang with."

Nice! But nicer?

They put the blog up on their own page. Read it here.

Ended the night with some of the band going to Jimmy's DJ thing and Brian and a few others getting some soup. Joy and I eventually left the lovely Jason with his brandy, and a hug.

Tomorrow, I'm off on a business trip to the BC interior's top ski resorts. Besides the 7am-10pm work day (and, I assure you, lots of presentations I have to do), I think we're expected to snowshoe tomorrow, then ski at at least three of two of the resorts, and do a helicopter ride over Revelstoke. I think there's also some trips to the museums and perhaps a zipline excursion. I'll let you know how that goes. Hard life eh? But what I'd really like to do is get into a sauna ;-) or go somewhere hot...like Mexico. Which is where we're off to on April 5, a day after I return from the frozen tundra.

Stay tuned. And for Dan, too. He's coming, I promise.

Rock on,
xM

Hard at Work

2008-03-19T09:30:00.000-07:00

Tourism BC is fun. Last Friday we spent a couple of hours at our agency, Cossette, dicking about. My low-register, spoken-word treatment of The Clash's "Should I Stay or Should I Go" was sadly, not up to par. But Rockband is indeed, very fun. We may have to add it to our toy collection eventually! Next week: a five-day business trip to the BC interior to explore the province's top ski resorts...nice work if you can get it hey? And did I mention my day finishes at 4.30? :-D

Raine Maida's (Our Lady) Peace(ful) Gig

2008-03-16T20:02:00.000-07:00

So, last week was my interview with Raine Maida, lead singer with Our Lady Peace, a Canadian band I quite liked in the mid-90s, despite myself. Raine was always a good lead, neck veins bulging, singing like it was his last breath. He and I used to cross paths many times in Toronto, at Much Music Video Awards and the like, and my good mate Jenell and I were even in their video for "Naveed", as part of the moshing crowd. (Though we're right in the front by then-guitarist Mike Turner, you can only see me for a millisecond and Jenell for a fraction more. Still, I remember vividly that Raine stood on stage looking tense through the whole shoot, but looked over once during the filming and said "Hey, Mikala!"). Anyway, thought that his first solo tour (with a second date in Van), would be a good chance to catch up. Besides, he was always a bit fit. ;-)

He didn't remember me at first, it took some prodding, but we shared similar tastes and knew many of the same people (even backstage I randomly bumped into my cellist friend Kevin Fox, a former mate of mine from Toronto who used to play with Kim Stockwood and my friend Tim, and whom I'd not seen since a gig in London in 2002).

Raine and I talked about art and the universe and the awesomeness of Soul Coughing (remember my Doughty fixation?) and it turns out he was a huge fan, seeing as he's into spoken-word stuff and all. He seemed impressed when I told him Doughty and I had a wee bit of a past. ;-) At the end, and after he'd given me double the time the record label had allotted me, he said "Really good to see you - what a surprise" and bimbled off to hang with his wife, Chantal Kreviazuk, another Canadian singer who I want to dislike but actually can't because her voice is amazing.

Read the interview and ponder the kewl photos, if you fancy.

ps, I've been harassing Dan for some time now to post. He's not as diligent as I and I've been on his arse for weeks now. Sorry, you'll have to make do with me for now!

The Hives Are Law, We Are Crime

2008-02-23T11:53:00.000-08:00

One of the best gigs EVER? Check. Interview with Nicholas Arson and Vigilante Carlstroem earlier in the day? Check. Making them laugh with talk of hockey? Check. Running into Howlin' Pelle Almqvist and Chris Dangerous outside of Urban Outfitters and having a chat? Check. Thinking "Pelle's actually really cute in a sort of dorky way"? Check. Being impressed by the fact that even during the day they still wear black and white? Check. Not getting any good gig photos even though it was my first press pass photo opp in years because the camera had no stabilization? Check (boo). Jumping around to "Tick Tick Boom" like a madwoman? Check. Catching one of Nick Arson's special Hives guitar picks? Check. Getting the set list afterwards for my review? Check. Meeting a drunk Dr. Matt Destruction after the show and him teaching me some Swedish? Check!

Brilliant night? Check please!

ps, watch the video. About 48 seconds in Pelle comes over to our side and puts on a show for us, it's way cool. Apologies for the herky-jerkyness but I had a million people dancing around me and some massive amps blowing us away.

Cuddles for 2010

2008-02-18T20:34:00.001-08:00

It is very therapeutic to hug an Olympic mascot. Imagine, if you will, then, what it's like to get your arms around three!

Ladies and jellyspoons, may I present from top-down: Sumi, the uh, brown bear crossed with a Thunderbird with the hat inspired by whales (who grows huge like in the Native stories); Miga, the erm, cross between an Orca and Kermode (no, not the Muppet, the "Spirit Bear"); and finally, my friend and yours: Quatchi - the ice-hockey loving Sasquatch!

How did I meet these Japanime wonders you may ask?

There I was, wandering home one night recently, when this triumverate of merchandising madness jumped out from behind a homeless person's shopping cart and put the moves on me! It's TRUE!

Okay, I fess. The hugs were because of a big launch event on Feb 12 for the "Cultural Olympiad" (it's now two years and counting to 2010 baby!) at the ploosh Vancouver Orpheum. Native singer Leela Gilday, Quebecoise (AMAZING) chanteuse Jorane and...*sigh* Ron Sexmith, Feist and the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra were playing, and these furballs came out to see and be seen. And be groped by some hot piece of ass like mine. ;-) Clearly, I am far too easily entertained.

Anyway, after some chick called Susie McNeil butchered an already-awful Can-Rock Olympic theme song of sorts (called "I believe", though all I believe is that it was shit), Jorane rocked the whitest audience in humankind. Ron burbled through his set (complete with my awesome best mate Tim Bovaconti on guitar) and Feist lulled me to slumber with her particularly lush brand of vocal lullabies, made all the more betterer by the full-on VSO action. Everything, it seems, sounds swankier with an orchestra and a cute conductor! After a quick squizz around the backstage, it was time for best friend Joy and I to mosey on over to the hotel for a spot of post-Olympic gig action with Tim, Ron's band, Jorane and une assortment de liggers. Jorane etait tres belle et jolie and much fun was had.

But not as much fun as hugging a mascot. That was the funnest.

Whistle while you work...

2008-02-12T22:30:00.000-08:00

Yo, happening chums!
This week we have mostly been slacking off work and taking time out to enjoy the sick powder of British Columbia's top ski & snowboard resort: Whistler Blackcomb.

Wait a second, I'm forgetting something. Oh yes, that's it. Rewind...

Last Friday we received our latest VIP guest: El Madre Loco. AKA My mum. We met her at the airport in the evening and bundled into the massive TANK that she'd hired, especially to traverse the treacherous wasteland between trendy Vancouver and remote Whistler. Being the champion skiier that my mum is, she couldn't very well visit Winterland Canada without some serious slope action, so she very kindly booked herself, Mikala and I into a cosy little boutique hotel in Whistler Village.

After a swift exit from Castle EA-enstein on Friday evening, we bombed up to whistler in Mama's tank, checked into the hotel, collected our equipment, took a quick comedy photo...

... and popped out for a spot of dinner at Umberto's. Or "Bum-hurt-o's" as Mikala insisted on calling it. Well, OK, that was me actually. Umberto's is a rather plush Italian restaurant which not only serves a tasty reindeer steak but they even put your beer in a posh cooler:

...Lah-dee-dah!

The next day we had a quick brunch and hit the slopes.
Mikala had a ski lesson.

I busted some gnarly misty-flips (rastamouse stylee).

Mum sat on the chairlift and went "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

And then after lunch we were joined by our good Vancouver chums Simon & Beth.
We skied some more and, when our little legs failed us, retired to the hotel for outdoor hot tub, acid-jazz, free martinis and a designer under-pant hand-out. In that order.

One thing we did learn is that trying to find a place to eat/drink/be merry on a Satuday night in Whistler is exceptionally difficult. The Sushi restaurant we wanted to go to had a ninety minute waiting list (reservations are for chumps, apparently, although it was worth the wait). Most bars were rammed; we couldn't even resort to gay bars as it was Whistler pride weekend. See how happy Beth and Simon are when we finally find a table in a dingy corner of a chain sports bar...

After a evening of chilling we hit the sack.
After a night of sack hitting we hit the slopes.

Hard.

Props to the missus who not only did her first chairlift, but also managed to advance from the baby slopes to a bona fide hill. Not bad for only her second day skiing. If you look closely at the video below you will notice that she is practically doing parallel turns! I can only assume that this is due to my superb tutelage...

That evening Mikala, Beth and Simon had to return to The 'Couve leaving me and my mum all alone in Whistler. We were sad, but at least I managed to get some proper skiing...

...I jest: that's not really me (no really it isn't). Apparently it was exactly two years to the day until Vancouver hosts the 2010 Winter Olympics, and what better way to mark this auspicious occasion then to get a load of nutters to pull tricks through a hoop of fire?

On Monday, El Madre and I had one last day on the slopes in which we managed to find a charming log cabin atop the mountain, that served some delicious food. After lunch we nearly killed ourselves skiing down a black galcier run so we thought it best to call it a day, pile into the tank and head home.

Oh, and I learned to ride switch - sweet!

Go see! Go See!

2008-02-07T08:53:00.000-08:00

Today's musical/live gig tip: Louis XIV and/or Editors (above).
They're both absolutely STONKING live and I had a great night rockin' out with the lads on Tuesday (and meeting Louis XIV who're a good larff - and the guitarist/vocalist guy asked me out...heh).

You know, each time I wheel about a gig venue, I feel the blood coursing again. I have to think that I probably should have been born in a bass guitar case or something. Being back and writing again about music is really quite awesome. Government operative by day, roving (aging) rock journo by night! It's win-win, really.

Read my review of the Editors/Louis XIV/Hot Hot Heat gig.

Next week: Ron Sexsmith & Feist for some official Olympic 2010 malarkey at the Vancouver Orpheum. My mate Tim is in Ron's band so put me on the list. And I'm muchly, muchly looking forward to seeing uber-cool duo Dean & Britta (Dean Wareham and his wife Britta Phillips, both formerly of Luna) and Frenchish chanteuse Keren Ann. Should be a cool way to ignore Valentine's Day! Stay tuned for more gossip from that front.

Ps, I also recommend the Wintersleep album "Welcome to the Night Sky" for anyone who fancies a bit of icy cool "landscape rock" (some bits are Prairies, others mountains, some cold lakes, you get the snow drift...) My review of that is here, too.

But enough about me...what do you think of me?

2008-02-04T20:15:00.000-08:00

Minky - 71 lbs (5 stone) = much less less lardy.

Dan and Bourdain

2008-02-03T17:49:00.000-08:00

Our fave American junkie-turned-Michelin Starred chef-turned writer-turned roving TV 'sleb Anthony Bourdain did a recent show on Vancouver for his Travel Channel "No Reservations" gig. It's pretty spot on - he mentions the rain and the amazing fun and food.

Within the entertaining bits was a (seemingly fully paid-up) promo for EA Vancouver. This is where Dan works, and we thought you may want to check it out. Note that all the fun stuff that they talk about on offer at EA is designed to keep its workers actually at the place. (Arbeit macht frei!) :-) Still and all, it's a pretty impressive gulag - I mean, office space.

Dan was well gutted that he missed Bourdain's visit as we've been a fan of his for yonks. But if you'd like a tour of the place, have a look-see...

An Open Letter to the Georgia Straight Newspaper

2008-01-29T10:59:00.001-08:00

So Vancouver was this week hit with a light dusting of snow. We clamoured over the two-inch drifts and slushed our way to modus transportus. Which is when you all turned into savages.

After surviving 7 years of taking the London, England Tube daily (a system that could be paralyzed by leaves on the tracks, "the wrong kind of wind" and schedules picked out of a hat), I thought I'd seen it all. Until Tuesday morning when I attempted to take the Skytrain from Broadway Station into town. Has no-one taught Vancouverites the etiquette of rail travel? To wit: flinging yourself into the back of the 10-person deep queue to board an already-rammed car, preventing anyone from actually exiting and generally panicking - well, it's just not cool. Here's a thought: your supervisor at work knows it's snowing. In fact, she is probably stuck on the Lion's Gate bridge herself. Why not try these simple steps: wait for the next car (for Goddess' sake, they come every 30 seconds), step aside to let the sardines out, and walk (don't ram) yourself into a corner of the car. If all else fails, wait a grand total of 5 minutes (in which at least 4,003 cars will have come through), ring your boss and explain the situation. Result? You don't have to rush and I don't have to have your elbows in my face.

C'mon Vancouver, it's not that difficult.

Mikala T.
Vancouver

Today: a bit of Sol-ace

2008-01-20T16:46:00.000-08:00

Shufflebored

2008-01-13T20:53:00.000-08:00

What is it about us and clubbing in Vancouver?

There we were, all buzzin' and excited about heading out to see our mates and do some proper havin' it clubbing. Nordic Trax DJ Mark Farina was on the bill, at the city's (and the world's) best venue the Commodore, and our mates Pieter and Colin had invited us. We were prepped. Ready to roll. Walkin' down Granville St with our dancing shoes on, the planets were aligning. It wasn't raining. Everyone was in a good mood. Even the drunk bum who lay vertically in the middle of the sidewalk was chipper, asking us all: "Did you miss me?" as people walked past. We told him we did. He smiled through his stupor and said "Oh that's good, thank you."

The crowd was pumped, the pot smoke was wafting freely (one weird thing about Van is you're not allowed to smoke inside, but the only smoke people do do "clandestinely" is pot smoke. So the room was erm, fragrant, to say the least). The venue was packed.

Maximum Dance Party Action. C'moooooooooooooon!

Farina came on stage, and started off with a bang ("those Buffalo girls go round the outside, round the outside, round the outside...). But soon the bang fizzled. You know the build that DJs are supposed to play into? The bit where the music starts rising, the beat gets louder, it's heading towards a meltdown and everyone's ready to go bonkers?

Farina (a decent house DJ, even if he does like a bit of handbaggy vocals) opted for the one-notch above shuffle build, and slow approach toward the heady heights of a speedbump. Where there should have been an enormous grin-n'-gurn inducing explosion...well, there was...more shuffling.

In fact, by 1.30am and two hours, our legs were killing us from all the shuffling. In fact, we'd cornered the market on the back n' forth bump. Where was the feeding the pigeons? The big-fish-little-fish-cardboard-box?

Still and all, it beat some of the other clubbing excursions we've been on (Dave Seaman, Seb Fontaine, though the Stanton Warrior Dom B was best), and we headed home, content in the knowledge that if it wants to, at least Van can pull a decent crowd out of its mountains...even if the DJ's big breaks were more like molehills.

Ninja Watch

2008-01-07T20:19:00.000-08:00

Day 7 in the Big Ninja House.

The little ninja is not so little anymore. In fact, he looks less a minja and more a prime rubber fighting machine. He's still waiting. Watching. In the silence. We can only hope we escape his wrath by feeding him sushi.

Shurikens at the ready!

Welcome to our new home...

2008-01-06T14:11:00.001-08:00

Welcome, one and all, to our super stylish, ultra-comfy new pad!

Yes, Mikala and I have finally finished painting, papering and putting together furniture - time to relax and enjoy the fruits of our labours. But first, gaze upon the splendour that is the view from one of our four (yes four) balconies...

Mmmm, pretty. Now on with the tour! Below you will see, er, well... a corridor. With some nice limited edition art. Note how the tops of the pictures are perfectly alligned, with each picture spaced equidistantly. Truly I am master of the hammer and nail!

Clever people will notice a warm glow coming from the end of the corridor. This is, in fact, the living room, but we'll get to that later. Check out the super-stylish boudoir...

The furniture may be cheapy Ikea but the wallpaper is super exclusive from haut-couture papieriers Osbourne & Little. We had it shipped over from the UK and it probably costs more than all the other furniture in the bedroom put together. Fortunately it was a birthday gift from my super awesome brother who just happens to know a thing or two about interior design, being one of London's top bar designers and all. Here is the view from the corner of the bed, and, yes, that is Mikala on the wall...

Just next to the bedroom is the compact yet functional bathroom. I know it may not look like much but it has some unique features. First off, the light is on a dimmer, so you don't have to dazzle yourself when you brush your teeth in the morning. The second is a tactical night-light that will gently illuminate any midnight porcelain pilgrimage.

Moving on we have the guest room / Mikala's Office / Room of Rock:

The comfy looking bed is more than meets the eye - yup, it transforms into an equally comfy sofa when we don't have any guests to entertain. The picture above is actually a little out of date as Mikala has recently festooned it with drumsticks, backstage passes and all manner of other rock 'n' roll paraphernalia. Oh and posters of Duran Duran:

One of the few furniture pieces we splashed out on was our laaaaarverly leathery sofa. Mmmmmmm, comfy...

Mikala got 1st dibs on the elongated lounge section, but that's OK because you really need to be sitting in the centre of the sofa to get the most of this:

Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy - 46 inches of 1080p high-def, kick-ass awesomeness. This behemoth is wall mounted on an articulated arm, making it float majestically above the large stack of high-tech gear it is connected to. As well as the obligatory game consoles we have a multi-media centre which we use to download all our TV and movies (in high-def of course). If you have been keeping up on the blog you may recall I bought an HD-DVD drive on Boxing Day. This + the TV + 5.1 surround system = no need to leave the house ever. It's just like being in the cinema, except without the noisy kids, greasy popcorn and lingering smell of piss.

In the corner of the living room is the dining area...

This also happens to be our Pete Fowler's Woodland Friends corner as you can see by the artwork and vinyl toys. The lovely table is courtesy of Mikala's Mom, Ninna. It's pretty cool to enjoy your meal overlooking the mountains outside.

But now... brace yourslef... for the fully operational... DANCAVE!

Mmmmm, yes - this room is all that is man. Firstly there is the custom built super computer (more than capable of running Crysis, for those that care). On the left of this picture you can see my plaques from Sony, the hand-built LCD system display and my Lego Millenium Falcon. What you won't see are the wires for the 7.1 THX sound system. That's because I hid them in the walls. Natch.

To the left of the desk...

...is acess to the Malcony. It's a balcony for men. Get it? No? Oh never mind... there's also my game & comic collections with my graphic novels guarded by the most excellent Superman figurines I got when I left Sony. The space on the wall is reserved for my Medal of Honor plaque which should come in a month or so... Did you notice the airing cupboard? No? That's because I made custom, low-profile doors so that it's almost invisible to the un-trained observer. And last but not least is the back wall...

It's the ultimate conflict of good vs. evil! The Masterpiece versions of Optimus Prime and Megatron slug it out in front of a highly limited edition 20th anniversary lithograph featuring every single transformer ever. "But wait!" I hear you cry "where is the orange stopper on the tip of Megatron's barrel? Surely that can't be..."

Yes. Yes it can.

That is indeed an ultra rare (not to mention illegal) Masterpiece Megatron sans orange stopper. Allow me to explain...

Megtron transforms into a highly accurate replica of a Walther P38 pistol. Replica pistols may not be imported into Europe or North America unless they have an orange stopper over the barrel. Vis a vis, anyone caught importing or selling these bad-boys could well face some hard time.

Oooooh, I'm so naughty!

Anyway, that concludes our tour for now. When are you lovely people going to visit, eh?

x

Dan.

P.S. Check out our moving in blog for photos of how the place used to look - it was rubbish!

The 2008 Polar Express

2008-01-02T21:50:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, one and all!

How did you celebrate? We had a rather quiet night in with a few friends and Mum. Couldn't be arsed with public transport or movement, for that matter, so I cooked up a slap-up feed for the group (one I couldn't eat myself). We made merry and stuffed faces. We superimposed a huge countdown clock on our TV and then ran out to the balcony to bang pots and pans and set off sparklers and drink champers when the clock struck midnight on the Wet Coast. Of course, we also celebrated at UK midnight and Toronto midnight and Mum's birthday (she's a New Year's baby), so it was countdowns all around!

We listened to the braying hordes outside, cheered on a few errant fireworks and then retreated back inside to concentrate on the task at hand: seeing how big a tiny, rubber, grow-your-own ninja would get when immersed in water.
Unfortunately, his growth is pretty stealthy and today he remains a Minja in a big bowl of water. But I swear, one day, I'll come into the kitchen and there will be the WORLD'S BIGGEST RUBBER NINJA. Waiting. Just waiting. In the darkness...

All was quiet on New Year's Day...for a while anyway. I was hangover-free and it wasn't raining. Mum was game, and Dan was ready: it was time to make good on our 2007 missed opportunity: doing the Annual Vancouver Polar Bear Swim!

FACT: It takes a special breed of nutcase to go swimming when the temperature outside is 5 degrees celsius and the water is roughly the same. Or colder. But brave the elements we did - and bundled up our dressing gowns, flip flops, swimmers and pot of tea and trundled off to the beach...

...where we were joined by nigh-on 2,000 other farkin' insane swimmers. Many in costumes, some in rugby or hockey jerseys, others in viking hats, clown suits, mermaid outfits, bumblebee wings, the works. Most of Downtown Van also gathered to watch the madness as we all jockeyed for position on the sand, barefoot and with nary but a thin nylon fabric to cover our bits.

But soon, with an almighty roar and collective adrenaline pumping triple-time, we ran, all of us, en masse, into the water as the crowds cheered.

First reaction? Hyperventilation. As soon as we hit the water, my breath literally disappeared. I stopped to take a brief moment to collect myself and meditate on this intriguing sensation (not), but soon realized that I couldn't feel my feet and some twat was splashing us with sno-cone like water. Wonder Twins activate! Into the form of an icicle!

But we mustered up the courage, grasped our seemingly last breaths and dove underwater, hair and all! What brave (or retarded) souls!
I was as amped as a meth addict as we showed off our Pins of Proof. And how was Dan? Well, glad you asked...

As we trundled towards the car, our hair near freezing, we almost felt toasty warm, except for parts of Dan...

In fact, it took about a half an hour before he regained feeling in his toes. But at least his ears were a lovely shade of burgundy!

Happy 2008 from your nutty friends in Vancouver. C'mon over, the water's lovely this time of year!

DAMN YOU, SONYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

2007-12-27T20:48:00.000-08:00

1) So I just picked up an HD-DVD player in the Boxing Day sales...

2) One of the films I was looking forward to watching in stonking 1080p resolution was Danny Boyle's excellent sci-fi pant-wrecker, Sunshine.

3) Not spotting it in the shops I thought I'd pick it up on Amazon, but alas...

4) Sunshine is published by 20th Century Fox.

5) 20th Century fox only publish on smegging Blu-Ray.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!

And to make matters worse...

a) The "chepaest" blu-ray player is still a PS3.

b) They still cost ultra-silly money.

c) They come bundled with Spiderman 3, and there is no way that unmittigated sack of dog shite is coming near the cherished vault of cinematic excellence that is my DVD collection.

Arse.

Still... at least I get Transformers! (Queue theme music...)

Let the Sunshine In

2007-12-22T11:56:00.000-08:00

Dan and I met up with the two processions that made their way along the shoreline last night, for the annual Winter Solstice Festival. Drummers led the troops carrying home-made lanterns and the procession converged on a park, where we all gathered round a fairy-light lit circle and watched fire dancers perform using flaming poi, hula hoops, jump ropes, a skirt made of fire and a lighted serpent, who chased away the sun. Was a pretty remarkable start to the Secret Lantern Society's 14th annual solstice bash.

We then made our way to the Roundhouse community centre where the ceremony was opened by a Native singer who sang and drummed out a traditional song. We then wandered through the intense and reflective room that housed the labyrinth - traditionally symbolic of the year in transition. You enter at one end and with palms face down, let go of all the year's struggles. You reach the centre of the labyrinth and meditate on the year ahead, and you wander back out, in the candle-lit dim light, with your palms face up - ready to receive the year's bounty. All the while, there was a low thrum of Tibetan chanting and a woman mindfully eaking out some haunting noises on Tibetan bowls...it was quite an emotional experience for us, actually, and the whole walk took 20 minutes. Was quite moving.After that it was off for ceremonial sushi! :-) May the year ahead be filled with light (and more soya sauce).

Happy Winter Solstice!

2007-12-21T12:01:00.000-08:00

The witch in me wishes you all a wonderful solstice and yule. It's an exciting day today - after tonight the days get longer. So go hug a tree, gather up some holly, ivy and mistletoe, light some candles and curl up with your hangover (or power through it by continuously boozing) and remember that it's all going to be a bit brighter from now on. Have a magical day!

Our New Pet. We Call Him Melonhead.

2007-12-20T13:19:00.000-08:00

Just joking. But Dan and I have this week become obsessed with the Vancouver Aquarium's Live Action Beluga Cam after we saw them merrily blowing the aquatic version of smoke rings at the EA Christmas party. These beauties blow big ol' underwater bubbles bat them around with their noses, and then burst, and it looks all fizzy. Apparently they do this to "show off" a volunteer told me. Mui impressive!

Let's face it. When life, the universe and everything gets you down, what better a thing to do than look at these enormous, marshmellow-esque lard duvets with their smiley, happy faces?

Watch here now.

(I'd upload the mega-sized higher res one that Dan put together - so we can stream it to our TV of course - but Blogger isn't letting me). Enjoy!

November Madness, December Retardation

2007-12-07T16:09:00.000-08:00

Greetings, all, and a thousand sorries. Every day that passes Dan and I get more and more sheepish at the painful lack of bloggage action. You’ve heard the excuses (erm, every waking moment at home has been dedicated to the art of DIY, folding Ikea boxes away and shoving crap in various corners), so just thought I’d catch you on what we’ve been doing for the past month. Sorry, this'll be another monster one but we promise over Xmas to be more blog-like in frequency.

The Home
We do plan on uploading some new pics of our uber-pad when it’s ready – but it’s still very much a work in progress. We’ve come a long way with it though, and despite the fact it seems like it’s the magnet for all the Earth’s dust, it’s transforming rather nicely every day. The bedroom’s done, wallpapered (complete with slightly different batch numbers on the paper, so it, erm, has an interesting fade) and filled with furniture. The living room is coming along, but if Dan and I didn’t keep knocking over our framed paintings and breaking them, it’d be more sorted.

BUT! We now have a delicious brand new EQ3 leather sofa in chocolate brown, and….erm…. a 46” high-definition, LCD 1080p flat screen Sony Bravia with 5.1 surround and mounted on a bracket so it looks like it’s floating on the wall. It took much planning and sweat on Dan’s part to get this beast on the wall (and I promised not to tell you that he was so worried about it falling off that he put our inflatable mattress under it for three days), but now it is a thing of beauty. Hell, after kitting out our place with furniture from those Swedish bastards, we figured we’d splash out on a posh TV and sofa. So we can unwind in the comfort of our own home cinema, don’t you know....

Dan’s also been a pillar of machismo and caning it by working on converting our closet-y room into his “Command Centre”. The “den” is now a manly oasis of deep grey, metal desk and metallic blinds and yes, he’s mounted his surround for the computer in here as well and plans on hiding his cables in the wall. He’s gone fracking insane but appears to be extraordinarily content to have his own ManLair (now with own outside deck that I’m calling the Dan-cony! And a special shelf bought specifically to display his Masterpiece Optimus Prime and Megatrons!) And as soon as his limited edition, 20th Anniversary Transformers lithograph is back from the frame shop, he'll also post a picture of it.

Yup.

Needless to say I have adopted the blue room as the “Rock Room”. Though blue is decidedly unrock/goth, I plan on making it my own by scattering rock paraphernalia, tickets, photos and drum sticks on every flat surface.

Anyway, the flat’s coming along awesomely. And judging by our mate Julie’s reaction when she saw it (she was our first overnight guest too) – “I can come house sit, this place is amazing!” – it’s looking and feeling pretty good.

The Social Life

UK DJ Seb Fontaine played a totally by-rote, asleep-at-the-wheel set at Sonar on November 9^th. I took Dan there as an early birthday pressie, and we headed out in the rain to see one of our fave DJs “tear it up” in Vancouver. Unfortunately, the only thing we tore up was the pavement when we left early out of boredom (after waiting three hours to see him). Still and all, I did manage to put a wee note in front of La Seb indicating that we’d always gone to see him at the (soon-to-be-defunct) Cross club in London and it was good to see him here. He laughed heartily and blew me a kiss. Nice! Then it was off to our mate Luke and Bay’s leaving do the next night (they were off to Oz for a few months) where we spent most of the night chatting with Arthur, a heavily pierced and tattooed Aussie café barista who lives here.

Dan’s birthday ( Nov, 13 for those of you who missed it, and there were a few of you ;-) was fairly low-key but nice, as the flat was in tatters and we weren’t ready to throw a bash London-stylee. And I had a bad cold. Blech. But we headed out to the resto Lucy Mae Brown (a posh restaurant which had Dan’s fave burger), and he had a good meal, while the rest of us (Joy, Beth & Simon) suffered through an overpriced disaster cooked by the cleaners, we think. Anyway, our boy was happy enough with his Steak Tartare starter, followed by Beefburger and a chocolate brick cake I brought that I’d had decorated with his name and a little Minicon Transformer. Kudos to those of you who did send cards and calls and pressies – I know he really appreciated it, you lovelies. Tis hard when we’re all on different planets…

November 30 swept us away to the Vancouver Aquarium, late at night, for EA’s Christmas party! How bloody marvelous that EA rented the ENTIRE aquarium, inside and out, and everything was open to us to explore on our own, complete with DJs, a hysterical guy dressed as Neptune, a dancing starfish, a maritime band and of course, the real celebs of the night, all the fishies, jellymonsters and most amazing white beluga whales. The whales treated us to some belly rubs up against the windows and playful bubble-blowing action. They were amazing and Dan had to practically drag me away from every tank. Even the dolphin came right up to my window (though there were tons of people watching elsewhere), turned right around to face me directly and say hello! An absolutely brilliant night for those of us who are easily entertained by slimy creatures.

The next night we (Dan, Julie – one of our Suite101 editors, music fan and general bon vivant – and I), trundled out in the snow blizzard to a new venue I’d not been to, the Red Room. Why ? To see my ex-thing – the most wonderful and awesome Mike Doughty (formerly of Soul Coughing).

I could write extensively on how weird and head-spinning and amazing and awkward this gig and our subsequent reunion was (I hadn’t seen him in 10 years and things kinda ended weirdly for us), but will spare you the drama. The most important thing to say here is that Dan – a fan of Mr. D himself – was the most awesomest husband in the world for his tolerance, patience and support of his wife's rock-induced insanity. Hearing that Mr. Rock Star had cheekily squeezed his wife’s ass, he concurred that his wife had a squeezable ass, and then offered gallantly to go beat him up. A great night– if totally bizarre – followed by a bit of partying back at our pad with Julie – who’d never played on the Wii or seen the Mighty Boosh.. ;-)

So that brings us to this week, Thursday. One of the amazing offshoots of losing nearly 50 lbs is the fact that I now seem to have an abundance of energy. So while Dan was cutting 1mm off each of the slats of his metallic blinds for the Control Centre, I ventured out in the icey cold lonesome to go see an old mate of mine and his new band.

Mark Henning used to be in a Vancouver-based band called Pure. I hung out with all of the Pure boys quite a bit in the early 90s (holy crap, that’s 15 years ago...) back in Toronto and since being back in Van, had been in touch with their singer Jordy Birch. So during the day, I sent a Facebook email to Mark saying hello, we’ve now moved here, and how was he? He was just fine, in fact, and his band Combine the Victorious were playing tonight at Richards – did I want to come? Of course! So I headed out around 10pm into town to see the gig. And in the process hooked up with Jordy, and Todd Simko, a producer and former guitarist for Pure, who both were at the show to lend Mark support. Very funny evening and nice to see old friends.

So, onward into December! A few parties in the offing but a lot of our close mates are away or on hols, so shall see. We're going to do a housewarming in late Jan. and I’m already looking ahead to Feb when the gigs pick up again (Dean & Britta with my old friend from Luna, Dean Wareham, the Editors and Hot Hot Heat, woot!) Mum arrives Dec 14 for her X-month stint at ours, which’ll be nice. And then we’ll do our first own Xmas in the new flat! Can’t wait for that. Even though I can’t eat any proper food or down booze this holiday, I think it’ll be a nice one. Dan did offer to do my diet with me over Xmas, but I told him not to be retarded - he’d just be scoffing chocolates and beer in his office behind my back. We’ll be around from Dec 21 to 2^nd Jan, so do Skype, call or email.

Hope you’re not all too green from yer own celebrations. We’ll be in touch. And we miss you guys. A lot.

The Eighth Level of Hell: Moving and Unpacking

2007-11-02T10:39:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure why Dante's seven levels of hell didn't include moving, unpacking and decorating.

Personally, I HATE painting and DIY. Can't stand it. *spits* Thankfully, it makes Dan feel macho. And as he's had 8 days off from EA following our move on the 22nd, he's done some excellent work in the house. We've unpacked the kitchen, painted the bedroom, spare room and living room, got my stuff and dining room table shipped over from Toronto, had Internet installed, put shoe and trouser racks in the closet, put together a bed (no wounds for Dan this time), a dresser, a bookshelf and erm, been to Ikea more than a few times.

Downside of wallpapering the bedroom with awesome paper? Running out when you're two-thirds of the way through. We've now had to dispatch the other Mr. Taylor (Dan's brother) to hunt it down in the UK and ship it over. Bless 'im. But right now the Boudoir DanMinky is looking a bit, erm, under-done.

And we're still living in boxes - they seem to grow and breed overnight. Dan is insisting on moving electric baseboards and doing all sorts of shit that just gives me the heebie-jeebies. Okay, call me a girl, but I just want to unpack and relax. This mental pace of moving/unpacking and painting and building stuff has just done my head in and now I'm totally knackered out. Working through all this and being on the diet is making me crazy(er). But hey, nobody said buying your first home would be easy, and these last weeks have been stoopid busy.

On the plus side, we love our new neighborhood, are coming to grips with the constant barrage of traffic outside and the incessant dust-bunnies that have been shagging like rabbits and leaving dust whorls in every corner of our new pad. But being so close to the Skytrain (first I thought, oh Christ, I'm on the tube again - but then I realize, hey, it's quiet and only takes 10 minutes!) and a huge supermarket AND the amazing mom-and-pop shops of Commercial Drive, it's just awesome. We're really happy. Dan's only five minutes away from a home-made fresh ravioli shop and Italian specialty store, which makes him a happy bunny indeed.

We can't wait to have you all round for a visit.

Still, we're living in box hell. Our lack of storage areas is really a problem but Dan assures me he'll find some space-saving robot alien to remedy the situation, but I fear living in boxes may be de rigeur for quite some time.
What else? Well, I've dropped a staggering 32 pounds in two months. That's more than 2 stone.
I'm pretty proud of myself - as it gets colder, all I want to do is climb inside a mountain of mashed potatoes and other forbidden carbs, and it's pretty difficult when your meal is finished about a half-hour before your partner's. But ah well. The results are impressive. I can barely wear any of my old clothes - they look like tents on me so I dug up old shirts and trousers that I can now fit into. It rocks.
We went on a Haunted Halloween Trolley tour of Vancouver with our friends Simon and Beth on Hallow's Eve, and visited a graveyard and met a pathologist at the Van Police Museum who explained in graphic detail how they did (back in the day) and do autopsies! Dan was all jumpy through that, and they were worried he was going to faint (apparently they'd had three MALE fainters earlier in the evening) but I thought it was awesome. Natch.

We're off to see DJ Seb Fontaine next week for an early Dan's birthday pressie (reminder, it's on November 13th and he's really missing his mates, so be sure to drop him a line if ye can!), and then we're out to his fave burger/fancy resto for his actual birthday. Should be fun.

But all this is to say that for the forseeable future, we'll be a bit overstretched. But we miss you guys and hope all is well. Sorry for the utter crapness at this blog thing, but combined with the move, the first payments, the boxes, the painting etc, oh, and my diet, we've been a bit shagged out. Plus, we don't have our computers sorted yet, so we're doing everything off the laptop and sharing it.

Anyway, hope all is well and dandy!

xM

Casa Dan and Mikala

2007-10-09T18:08:00.000-07:00

So this is old news but we thought you'd like the pics if you haven't seen 'em already. We bought a flat! A condo! Which is a basically an apartment! Because there are no houses that young people can afford in Van! And ours is the one with the turret! A TURRET!

We've got the following:

two-bedrooms plus-small-hideaway for Dan's batcave. He's already planning the fingerprint-entry security system and a door that looks like a bookshelf...

a home at the grungy and slightly downtrodden end of a VERY funky neighbourhood called Commercial Drive which means we're only minutes away from cool bars, restos, shops. Sure, we're at the tail end and close to the bums and hobos, but hey, that's what the Vancouver East End is all about. Think about Clapham or Camden and then remove most of the really horrible pikeys and gotty teens and leave a few drunks. That's the Drive. But the whole neighbourhood is undergoing some gentrification (not always a good thing, but a good thing for our investment), so it's great. Means that we're near some new adventures....currently, Commercial Drive is home to the annual Dyke March and other such "colourful" events. Wahey!
We're also about five minutes away from a fabulous park and lake, called Trout Lake. Haven't been there yet but sooo relieved to have some lovely greenspace to bike in...and I shall be expecting muy trout, when we do visit.
We've got FOUR balconies. Okay, so most of them overlook the busy mini-highway and Skytrain tracks right next to us, but one has a proper view of the mountains and the rest will make for good storage and party spaces. Hey, you can't have everything! ;-) And if you're gonna have to deal with traffic noise, better that you're also two minutes away from the Skytrain. My work commute? 15 minutes.
We only share one wall with neighbours. The rest is the sky, baby!

We take possession on 20 October, which basically means that we found, offered, bought and moved into a flat in just under 6 weeks. There are some benefits to no gazumping in Canada, but the stoopid fast pace means my stress has quadrupled as I try to navigate us through the first-time-buyer's market in a city that wants to charge $400K for parking spots. I've been having some terrific conversations with lawyers, banks, brokers, real estate agents, friends, relatives...but it's looking good (toes crossed) - and beats our current living situation: an igloo made of boxes. How DID we accumulated so much?

The plan is we'll wander over there on the 2oth before our stuff gets moved, and try to paint. Dan, of course, has gone all "Home Reno"-retarded which will be helpful for me in the long run (I hate decorating and just want to unpack), but slightly worrisome in the short-term, when I remind him that we have 1) No Money 2) No Furniture 3) No Time. But hey, that's what Ikea's for, and so we've plumped for buying the same bloody bed we had in England. Tres chic!

As a result of said Reno(aggro)vation discussions, we've been having having some pretty technicolour arguments about the aforementioned paint and wallpaper (which of course, Dan wants to have shipped from the UK, and which is likely crafted from young nubuck, threaded with titanium, cured by young Icelandic virgins and which can be hooked up to the ginormous robot/grid he also plans on building for the flat). I never knew I cared about such things, but apparently I do! Especially when it means it will bankrupt you and we're just about to part with a HYOOOJ deposit and fees....

On the plus side of spending money on credit, we've invested in a posh and louche leather sofa today - we figure our only good investment besides the flat should be the thing we plump our butts down on daily. And through some witty bantering and the discovery that the fab, gay furniture sales guy had lived in London for 9 years, I got us a 10% discount to boot. Nice!

Anyway, here are a few photos to get yer started (ignore the horrid furniture, it was a boys' flat before...) and we'll put more up as and when it transforms into our palais-du-fun. Guest room means you're all welcome to stay next year, once we get settled....

Hooha!
-------
Hello. Dan here.
Checkout the blue-print I made:
The Dancave is the small room top left with the 7.1 surround gaming system.

Now that Medal of Honor is pretty much finished, I have been researching "Smart Homes". With a modicum of cash and some crafty computer hacking, I can wire the flat so that it will gently wake us with a simulated sunrise every winter's morning (using natural-light bulbs), turn off all the lights when we leave for work and automatically dim the lights whenever a DVD is played (bringing them back up to half brightness if we pause to take a leak).

Mwuh-hah-hah-haaaaaa!

Bruce Lee R.I.P.

2007-09-17T07:13:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-12T10:09:00.001-07:00

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

2007-09-04T22:24:00.001-07:00

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.

Enter The Dragon

2007-08-27T20:40:00.000-07:00

Ladies and Gentlemen...
I am proud to introduce to you...
The newest member of the Taylor family...
Bruce Lee!

Those of you who are keeping up with our misadventures may recall Mikala mentioning the "moving centerpieces" from Anna's wedding the other weekend. Well, those centerpieces just happened to be the most adorable little Siamese Fighting Fish (hence the snappily monikered "Bruce").

These fish, also known as Betta fish, are pretty amazing. Here are a few Betta facts...

Betta fish are the only pet fish that will recognise their owners face and swim up to it
They can jump 3 inches out of the water to escape their bowls
They change colour depending what mood they are in.
They are carnivorous
They HATE other Betta fish - that's why they are called Siamese Fighting Fish. Because they fight.

While Bruce was chillin' in his bowl at the wedding, our chum Andy (animator extraordinaire and most excellent creator of videogame Otsel, Daxter) pointed out that if you show a Betta fish its reflection it will go ape shit. The disclosure of this fishy factlet promptly preceded all the boys stealing the compacts from their ladies' handbags for a bit of fish-baiting while their better-halves went off to dance to Duran Duran.

Unfortunately Bruce's style, much like his namesake, was the art of fighting... without fighting. After a few minutes of trying to freak the fish out with mirrors a less labor-intensive plan was divised...

A piscine, gladiatorial arena! The three combatants actually got quite lary, changing colour and puffing their fins up like scaly little Chuck Norrises.

Anyway, as the evening came to a close, the partygoers tripped home (and I mean tripped) with their fish in hand (I don't mean that - the fish were in the bowls, Stupid.)

The next morning it dawned on Mikala and I that trying to board an aeroplane with a fish might be problematic given the ridiculous post-9/11 restrictions on fluids... It looked like Bruce was for the flush...

Fortunately we hatched a cunning plan worthy of Lord Blackadder himself. (Cue Mission Impossible theme music...)

1615 hours: Bruce is transfered from his bowl to a 1 liter Tupperware container
1630 hours: Mikala and I check in while Ninna looks after "the package"
1645 hours: The merchandise is transfered from the Tupperware to an Airport-approved fluids bag containing 100ml of water (the legally allowed maximum amount of any single fluid)
1650 hours: We explain to the nice customs officials that x-rays are lethal to small fish and that Bruce was a wedding present (well... he was a present and we did get him at a wedding)
1655 hours: After a thorough inspection by the mildy entertained customs staff we are waved through - fortunately one of the x-ray operators keeps Betta fish and even advised us to open the bag a bit as Bettas actually like to breathe air through their mouths (I shit ye not).
1700 hours: Mikala and I hot-foot it to the nearest baby-change and prep Bruce's Tupperware with room-temperature mineral water and fish conditioner
1705 hours: Bruce is safe in his watery mobile home
1800 hours: board plane and relax - phew!

Fortunately fish, unlike lobsters, do not explode at altitude. Thank Christ.

2200 hours (PST): Bruce touches down safely in Vancouver. Hurrah!

Anyway, Bruce is now happily ensconced in his bowl, atop our dining-room table enjoying a healthy diet of blood-worms and other such fishy delights.

Now where did I put that mirror...

Anna and Rahul's Big Fat Greek Wedding

2007-08-20T22:31:00.000-07:00

My Best Friend got married in Toronto this weekend in what can only be described as a Big Fat Greek Wedding.The bride was 20 minutes late, the grumpy old priest rushed through the lovely Greek Orthodox ceremony (he had to, they'd booked like forty squillion weddings back to back), and the lovely couple made the mad dash to the white limo. Meanwhile...

....new husband and old ex of Mikala caught up outside. Al looking furrowed. Dan looking Dan-ish. Both looking sharp.

The reception was at a monster banquet hall, where Greeks jostled for space with Filipinos at the next wedding over. After the 1.5hour-long reception line (with Rahul doing Jager shots at the end of it with us) the wedding party-cipants were announced by the DJ. In danced Anna's sister Lydia and friend Cherilee to "Girls on Film" - a song, Lyd said, they'd chosen just for me.

And then there was the food. Thank Christos for Greeks and their food.

To complement the open bar were tables of antipasto, spanikopita, lamb meatballs, tzatziki, shrimp, pita, a separate saganaki flaming cheese bar, followed by filet mignon AND chicken dinner. At midnight came the most amazing pairing: the petit fours, cake and ROAST LAMB station. *burp*. During all this...
...me and my best girlfriends from uni Sher (L) and Jenell (R) caught up on what seemed like 40 years of history. Then came the speeches. Some were sweet, others funny, some bizarre. A fave moment? Besides Anna's sister Lydia counselling her new brother in law to stock up Midol (like Feminax), it was when Anna asked the assembled masses to show how many of us had had HER in their own wedding parties....and more than a half-dozen hands shot up. Always a bridesmaid, finally a fekkin' bride. :-)

The speeches were then followed by dancing. Man alive, was there a lot of dancing. Them Greeks can move! From the gorgeous couple's sashay, to Anna's parents cutting a rug Athens-style, the highlight was the dance by the astoundingly sexy beast Anna herself...... doing a Greek goddess waltz, which ended with her downing a shot of Ouzo that had been placed at her feet. Soon every Souvlakian in the house joined in. And then, as the wine soothed our souls, even us whiteys got involved...
...then the waiters came out waving sparklers....
...which was followed by the drunken "let's get all of us from Ryerson (our uni) together for a group shot" moment...
...which was then superbly capped off by the superb lime green ice fish. Of course! To which Anna proclaimed: "What the fuck is that?"

I haven't even mentioned the moving centrepieces (more on that in Dan's blog soon).

But in a word or two, it was fookin' fantastic. So let's raise a glass to the Greeky pipsqueak. My best friend, maid of honour and divine goddess, Anna and her it's-actually-awesome-how-much-I-like-the-guy husband, Rahul. Opa!

NOTE: Because we're all lushes and like a party, let's also raise a bottle to lovely and fabulous Andrea Lofthouse (now Garske!) who got married on the day after Anna's (or same day if you're considering the time difference), in Port Douglas Australia. We're sorry we couldn't make it, but we had ice (and real) fish to contend with. We wish you both all the extreme-sports-love in the world.

GroupieDar™ and How Timing is Everything

2007-08-16T15:07:00.000-07:00

My first-year journalism professor Loren once said: "Mikala, you seem to have the knack of being at the right place at the right time."

Massey Hall is a venerable concert venue in Toronto and on August 13 played home to Crowded House's reunion visit to T.dot. It's also my old stomping grounds: I met Steve Earle, Andy Summers from the Police, The Mission, Erasure, David Sylvian (of Japan), Crowded House and countless of Canadian musicians here. I have great affection for this venue and my arse has graced its rusted stairwell near the stage door on many an occasion.

I was going to be in town that week (for my best mate's wedding) so picked up some tickets in advance. Now I just needed to pass some time before the gig. I sent mum on her way home from our shopping excursion, and thought about bimbling down the Box Office to collect my tix in advance and checked my watch.

Hmmm, sez I. "Sound-check o'clock".

Off I trundled and when I saw the tour bus, went round back, you know, for old time's sake. Chatted with the five earnest CH fans who were waiting to get their albums signed. "The band are inside and are not coming out for the rest of the night", one said to me.

I snorted. "No, no (pshaw). All you need to do is find a guy with a laminate - not a security guard, mind, because they can't do anything to help - and perhaps ask him to get the boys to come out. They may do." The guys were silent, waiting, hoping. Shy.I laughed as a guy with a laminate comes 'round the corner. "Excuse me, mate," I say, "if the guys are inside could you let them know that there are a just a few fans out here who'd love to get their stuff signed."

Roadie grunts. "Well, if you go round the corner, Neil Finn's standing right there."So I trundle around the corner like a Goth Pied Piper being followed by her band of meek mice. (Probably thinking "Who the hell is this girl in black and with shades?"). Sure enough, Neil Finn is outside, with his son Liam and I ask him if he'd spend a few minutes. Neil, being game, pops inside the tourbus but promises to come back, then apologizes for not being able to stay longer.

My timing, it has to be said, is pretty fucking excellent. I had been there all of five minutes.

I tell Neil that I'd seen a London Albert Hall show (a mere day after their original drummer Paul Hester - a kind and lovely man I've met several times - hung himself from a tree in Australia) and that it was beautiful ("Oh those. Those were intense"), that I'm going to see them again in Vancouver and did he still speak with Sebastian Steinberg (the most excellent bassist from Soul Coughing who I know)? Then I wave at the five patient boys behind me and say "would you mind signing these for these guys?". The boys inch up and the signing begins. Neil pops back in and it's a fait accompli.

My work here is done. I say goodbye to the grateful fans and wander to get my tickets and meet up with my loverly gig buddy (and CH afficionada) Candice.

Oh, and the show was excellent. Note how Neil Finn (above) was playing just for us. :-)

Pride (in the name of love)

2007-08-08T19:38:00.000-07:00

It appears that living in Vancouver's "quiet" burb can't slow a good hag down.

After the gracious invitation of my lovely "cousin" Colin (my mum has known his mum for 40 years and he lives with a gorgeous man named Pieter), I was invited to celebrate the first night of Vancouver's Pride Weekend.

Vancouver, for those of you out-of-the-know, is pretty gay. It's a tiny village, but there's a gay YMCA of sorts (Denman Fitness), a huge Gay Pride parade (methinks 100K people showed up this past Sunday) and oh, the bus stops are painted fuschia on Davie St (the heart of the Friends of Dorothy village). It's about as camp as a row of pink tents.

Naturally, as I am missing some of my best gay mates (Paul, Contessa, take note), I greedily accepted a chance to go out on the town with Colin, Pieter and their impossibly high-powered and handsome mates.

Dan, bless 'im, took our visiting friends (Al, Fluffy John and Mayumi) to Subeez, Lucy Mae Brown and the El Furniture for dinner and drinks. I didn't want to burden our vistors with my enormous need for fag haggery. And we've learned that in Vancouver, you shouldn't turn down an invite.

So I rock up at Gay Central (Colin and Pieter's uber cool downtown apartment - it helps when one half of the couple is a designer), and meet all the other couples, husbands, husbands of husbands, boys in tight white, erm, wife-beaters, jeans, the works.

We drink champers, I make a joke about someone's sandals not being made BY small children, but OF small children, everyone laughs, deems me "outrageous and fabulous" and my induction is complete.

We head off to 1181 on Davie Street around 9ish and I marvel at the bar's superior design - it is, in fact, a tiny cramped bar with open areas (think a capital letter I) and a long, ass-grabbingly tight bar space, where the queens ponce up and down, showing off their trade.

Nice!

But trade indeed. I swear, for all the gay bars in all the world that I've been to (London, Toronto, Copenhagen, Essex ;-), I have never seen a more pretty, fit, fresh-faced, biceped group of handsome men in my life.

It didn't hurt that they were playing the latest French Rugby Team's video/porn on the back wall. Christ almighty.

Anyway, we drank, we cavorted, we were sorted...and then, get this, I ran into an advertising dude/media darling I knew of from Vancouver. Last time I set eyes on him? When I was doing a profile on his new agency some 10 years ago, for Canadian Business magazine. Pretty cool to see someone you know, somewhere you're not expecting it.

Of course, Advertising Homo knows everyone - and he looks fit doing it, too. And so I reintroduce myself. He praises me for my "long-term memory" and then flits away. Probably threatened by my boobs, but never mind.

And so, the evening continues. Until it is time that I, one of only six females in this impossibly gorgeous bar, headed home. To find Dan, John, Mayumi and Al, heating up a DVD - XMen 2. I snuggle in, safe in the knowledge that at least I've had a taste of the Pink....

....and it is good.

“Police arrested two kids yesterday, one was drinking battery acid, the other was eating fireworks. They charged one and let the other one off.”

2007-07-29T00:38:00.000-07:00

Our friends John and Mayumi are visiting from England so we've had to put on our thinking caps about how to impress the newest visitors to our city. Enter the Celebration of Light, Vancouver's own fierce "competition" between three rival firestarters: Spain, Canada and China.

The great thing about these fireworks is that they last a half hour, are set off from a barge in the very central English Bay beach and can be seen from any one of Van's bazillion other beaches and viewpoints. And so, like dutiful non-drinking, non-partying-on-Saturday-night citizens, the whole city of Vanhattan flocks to a beach, a lookout, a bridge (you can see all from any one of our three bridges) or their front porch to watch the display.Saturday night was Canada's turn to get lit up...so it was handy that our best mates Beth and Simon invited us to their place for the festivities - right across the street from Point Grey's lookout point - a patch of grass with a view of the straight, the city and a skyful of mountains.

So after pouring all our beer into glasses, a bunch of us trundled over, plonked down our mats and joined the community for a bit of drinking under the lights.
Cue half-an-hour twinkly stars, "oohs" and "ahhs" (as you do) and commentary from our party that Canada should have ditched the big band jazz theme and gone for an all-out big bang by letting off ALL of their fireworks with one match and playing one note from the 1812 overture.

One second after grand finale (which, in my estimation, was more a whimper than a bang), the throng picked up and left, and we trundled back for more beer.

China - who invented the firework apparently - show off on Wednesday. We plan on checking out the action (we'll also be joined by our crazy mate Al who arrives Tuesday) from a different beach for variety. We'll keep you posted on whether they kick Canada's ass - Dan's expecting them to trot out some top secret uber firework that has been under lock-and-key for centuries.

I'm expecting one in the shape of a noodle box. We'll let you know.

Blo Me

2007-07-24T22:40:00.001-07:00

So, what's a girl to do on a Tuesday night when her husband is working until 10pm and she doesn't have any cable TV at home?

Go Blo!

So, was invited to my first industry 'do tonight by my lovely colleague Joy. We gathered to celebrate the launch of the (clears throat) genre-bending "blow-dry only" salon BLO . Yup, it's a salon where they wash and style your hair. That's it. No cuts, no colour. Just hot air.

And you know, in Yaletown, that could actually fly.

Anywayyyy, their digs are near our digs and their marketing guy is the lovely Val from the social activism group Extreme Kindness who's friends with Joy...and whom I have no doubt influenced the Blo team to incorporate a charity element into the shindig, which was, conveniently, held at George (where I met Hot Guy).

Thus, a group of us girls found ourselves rubbing shoulders with Vancouver's finest airheads, all blown within an inch of their lives. But a good cause is a good cause (this one for Breast Cancer research), and so I, Queen Blackofheart, put on her pink trousers and shoes to fit in with the dress code. Yes, pink.

Highlights included George's fab pink lemonady mojito, the tiny pink cupcakes (with black "Blo" written on it in sprinkles) that had each been made by a mum of one of the Blo staff, and the three bites of tuna tartare I had, courtesy of the restaurant I practically live in, Glowbal.
Okay, so it wasn't a London media event (I half expected Jade Goody to show up) but it was good for a laugh. And I did see a guy who was the spitting image of Tom Selleck. Oh and one other highlight: we stood next to Trevor Linden - another hockey great from the Vancouver Canucks who does his own bit for cancer research when he's not busy being an Iceman.

Which brings my tally of meeting/seeing hockey's most fab players, to two... in under a month! Anybody else think this is weird? In Toronto, I had my own Fantasy Hockey league (comprised mostly of defencemen and goalies, oh and Linden) and I watched these guys on TV. But here, I've got no TV but I'm rubbing shoulders with Linden and Gretzky? Wha happen?

Is it just me or are the planets conspiring to make me properly Canadian again?

Frack me!

2007-07-22T15:58:00.000-07:00

It's Friday night, I'm at a work 'do at our local, new and exceedingly sexy cocktail joint, George. I'm heading back from the loos and my GroupieDar (TM) goes off in my head as I pass this quiet table of four. I do a quick doubletake at a very, very hot man and waltz back to my editors and colleagues.

"F*cking hell, Joy" I say to my friend/editor. "There's a guy over there who's on one of my fave shows. I know it, I just can't place it immediately." For about 30 seconds I think it's Kyan from Queer Eye... ...but this doesn't really sit right in my brain. So while I'm fretting, our new PR and marketing guy Christopher (a smooth operator himself), gets in on the action, saunters over for a subtle peek and comes back and utters two words that make my (nerdy) head implode.

"Battlestar Galactica".

(SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't seen to the end of Series 3, you may want to stop reading now).

Three strong cocktails in and the planets literally align. It's HOT GUY! THE ONE WHO'S MARRIED TO STARBUCK! SAM ANDERS! THE ONE WHO I ALWAYS CHEER FOR BECAUSE HE'S WAY DIRTIER THAN APOLLO...and the one Dan likes to hate because I fancy the pants off of him. D'yer think I can remember his name? Of course not. So Christopher goes to me: "I'm going to go over and say hello". And I say, "Oh NO! You're not going to be that kind of dick are you? I mean, I've interviewed and met some huge stars but I don't like to go over and interrupt their nights out. Besides, I don't have a good opening salvo..."

Christopher simply says: "Those guys are on smaller TV shows. They LOVE the attention. I'll be polite and go round", and off he trundles. "I HATE YOU" I mouth to him, not-so-secretly pissed off that he had more cojones than I.

He comes back and tells me Michael (Trucco - for that is said Hot Guy's name) is the nicest man on earth, his friends didn't mind being interrupted and I should go over. Uncharacteristically, I demur. Until Joy says: "Mikala, you waltzed up to Liev Schrieber in New York, and besides, this will be a GREAT story for Dan at dinner."

I still demur, wondering which shy and retiring alien race has kidnapped my body.

Christopher practically grabs me by the collar and frogmarches me over there when sees that the quandary is practically eating at my cells.

I am mortified. "My god," I say, apologizing to his table first. "I am SO sorry to interrupt your night out." Girl next to Hot Guy laughs and says "Don't worry about it!". Michael leans in with a grin that melted the souls of my shoes, asks me my name and goes to shake my hand. I blurt "I am such a massive Battlestar fan".

Lord, I've now been kidnapped and taken to the planet TIT. Bless him, he trots out his best "appease the geek" line and says "no, honestly, that's so sweet of you. Without you guys watching we wouldn't have gotten this far"....

We chitchat (no, I didn't ask him if he's really a frackin' Cylon or what the deal with Starbuck is or if he could take me to Caprica, as it were, as I was literally shaking from being caught off guard and being marched over). I do ask him what he was doing up here - that I knew they'd filmed here but wasn't Season 4 finished yet? Nope, he says, they're still filming and did I know it was their last season? "Yup," I say, "So horrible. My life will be a much more depressing place once the show's gone."

Now the kidnappers have taken my body from Planet TIT to Planet Trek Convention and my body has been firmly anally probed. I am one breath away from uttering "Live Long and Prosper". I feel I am losing cool cred and gaining a pocket protector.

Meanwhile, Christopher's pulling out his phone and asks if he can take a photo of Michael WITH ME. I die a thousand deaths and wonder if I could somehow regain composure and coolness but realize that moment left when I first opened my mouth to speak to him.But lo, Michael's a saint, clears off his coat from the bench, scoots over, pats the seat and puts his arm around me. "Hmm, it's going to be a bit dark" says Christopher, so Hot Guy leans over and grabs the nearby candle. Awesome. He really is a dude. He may be a goddamn toaster, but I wouldn't kick him out of bed for dropping crumbs...

A Nice Day for Technicolour Wedding

2007-07-18T15:18:00.000-07:00

So, our fab landlady and family friend Judy’s daughter Jessica (still with me?) got married on July 7. That’s 07/07/07 – cool hey? Jessica and Matt were kind enough to invite me, Dan and the mama (fresh off her cross-Canada “Thelma & Louise”-style road trip from Toronto) to BC’s Sunshine Coast. So named, I reckon, because it chucks down with rain all the time.

But not this weekend! Nope, summer had hit and we set off for the coast, boarded the ferry (strange to take a ferry there as the SC is actually part of the BC mainland – it’s just impossible to get there unless you’re a mountain goat) and arrived at the small town of Gibson and their motel, complete with pool in the middle.

The wedding party had pretty much booked the entire place, so we arrived to a frat-style gnarly parrrrrrrr-tayyyy in the main outdoor area – tanned, drunken jocks and jockettes (one awesome MILF, Tawny, runs an outdoor fitness boot camp for example) partying like it was 1999 and throwing themselves, other people and their cans of beer, into the pool. Mum, being a social butterfly, introduced herself around and scammed us some beers. Thank god, as we’d forgotten to bring our own. But feeling a bit knackered and not knowing a soul at the party, we sorta retreated to bed early like total losers.

On the wedding day, the sun was shining and we awaited the orange school bus booked to pick us all up at 2.30 to take us to the nuptials.

So what’s there to do in a small-town motel before the bus arrives? Get to know the locals and test out the local beer for anomalies. Lounging around the pool rocked. Dan impressed the assembled masses with his impressive somersault dive bomb, and I will never look at a flotation noodle the same way (you know, those long foam pool accessories for kids) after a few of the guys stuffed it full of beer and used it as a cooler. Picture two of them, having to drink at the same time, from opposite ends of the thing. Or don't picture it. Just look at the photo.

The bus arrived, and the newly showered n’ shaved hopped on, and off we went (drivers handily directed to the locale by amazing cartoon signs drawn by Matt’s Disney-animator brother). The ceremony was quick but beautiful. The bride wore heels, we all wore flipflops. The whole thing was held at the family patch of land. You know, the sort of patch of land that's one acre and there's a house up there, some tweeting woodpeckers over there, a babbling brook running over the cliff down there and what's that? Oh thaaaaat. That's just the ocean and the mountains. Yunno, right there. In front of you.

Dinner was equally casual – a get-yer-own-plate style thing on blankets on the lawn and lots of “Lucky 777” lotto scratch cards. I won nothing – except maybe a renewed interest in the alcohol and an impending sense of abandon. Mmm, start with beer at noon. Then have a few glasses of champers. And then go onto the 7% fruity cider. W00t. Then it was back on the bus, with the crazy kids all sat at the back singing 80s anthems like “Summer of ’69”.Dan tried to keep up but, because he had not worn his “Canadian Tuxedo” (jeans with a blue-jean shirt and denim jacket), looked lost when we started singing songs by Gowan (Look him up. He had an awesome mullet).

Then it was an after-party at the town’s only big pub, where we proceeded to get totally munted with the rest of the gang. We walked back to the motel (where the party was gonna continue) and were accosted by a gang of Gibson’s youths. Dan instinctively thought we were gonna be mugged, but all we had to do was fend off the advances of one totally over-enthusiastic 17-year old, who wanted to tell us about his trip to England.

We trundled off after being released from said hyper 17-year-old's clutches, an amount of time in which the polar icecaps all melted, refroze and melted again, and headed back to the hotel where the party was in full effect and where I proceeded to add “Lemon Drops” (bottle of vodka, no glass, lemon wedge and bag of sugar) to my list of intoxicants.Added to that about a half-kilo of salami, which someone had put a plate of out, 'cos, you know, it’s always good to line your stomach when you’re drinking.

Cut to passing out in bed.

Cut to one hour later and I awaken, surprised by having just done a technicolour yawn over the side of the bed. Classy!

Dan sleeps through the whole thing.

Moral?

Never eat salami.

Happy Canada Day, Eh!

2007-07-02T19:53:00.000-07:00

Howdy, All. Please join me in wishing the land of Canada a happy 140th birthday.

Yes, the 1st of July is, of course, Canada Day. "But, Dan, what does Canada Day entail?" I hear you ask. "Were there moose-shaped piñatas filled with Maple candy? Or strippers dressed as Mounties?" Well, my friends, read on and find out...

We decided to celebrate this awesome country by taking in one of its national parks. Mikala, Ninna and myself hopped in the Batmobile and, after a short drive arrived at Lynn Valley Park, which is an extraordinarily beautiful stretch of forest and, if the papers are to be believed, one of Canada's top ten most dangerous parks (apparently this has something to do with people getting drunk and jumping of waterfalls like lemmings - not bear attacks, or beaver maulings, thank Christ).

The entry to Lynn Valley is accessed via what can only be described as an exceedingly wonky rope-bridge. Anyone who has seen Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom will appreciate why I am looking slightly apprehensive. The hundreds of like-minded Canadians tramping up and down behind me didn't help either.

After the bridge it was, fortunately, all down-hill. Apart from the bits that were up-hill but the scenery was worth the grind. Check out the photos below...

A nice river - a bit too shallow for people to jump in but we popped our shoes off and went for a waddle. Whilst the weather may have been lovely and hot, the water was bloody freezing.

You won't be able to spot me in this picture - I am putting my SAS training to good use and blending in with the natural foliage.

A maple tree!

Me and the wife. Nice.

Oh... and what trip to the great outdoors would be complete without Dr. Doolittle going ape-shit every time we walked past something that rustled?

Ooooooh - a caterpillar!

Once we'd explored Lynn Valley we jetted off to investigate Deep Cove. Now this may sound like something out of Pirates of The Caribbean, ful of mystery and smugglers' lore but in actual fact is a failry shit village on the coast. We had crap sushi and left.

Hang on... Did I forget to mention we bumped into WAYNE GRETZKY!?!?!?!

What do you mean you've never heard of him? He's only Canada's most famous hockey player ever. Let me put this into context: bumping into Wayne "The Great One" Gretzky on Canada Day would be the Canadian equivalent of bumping into David Beckham on St George's Day (only not quite as gay). Mikala stalked him out onto the pier, where he was waiting to be ferried over to his yacht, shook him by the hand and wished him a happy Canada Day. Needless to say, she was ecstatic.

The only reason I knew who he was is because Vince Vaughn talked about making his head bleed in Swingers.

After that we went home, got juiced up on some good old Canadian beer, enjoyed a nice barbecue (the fourth one this week) and then wandered to the hill round the corner to watch all the firework displays without having to pay. All in all, not a bad day, eh?

x

Dan.

Do Not Underestimate The Cheese-slicer

2007-06-27T21:56:00.000-07:00

So here is the second slice of Dan bloggery.

What do you mean you haven't read the first part yet? Scoll down immediately.

Or not. It's up to you...

Anyway, this weekend we were visited by a two lovely Scandinavian ladies-of-leisure: Ninna (Mikala's Mum) and Elizabeth (Ninna's mate). Ninna & Elizabeth had driven all the way across Canada from Toronto just for the sheer thrill of it. The crazy foo's.

As luck would have it the local Scandinavian community here in scenic Vancouver was throwing a Summer Solstice fair, full of all things Nordic. Like... ah... er... well.. you know: Nordic things. So off we popped to see what we could see!

There was an impressive Viking longboat, with accompanying Viking warriors. These scary looking fellows, dressed in full warrior garb, entertained children with a demonstration of Viking shield technique. This entailed the Viking raiders being assaulted by a gaggle of twelve-year-olds armed with "magic yellow rocks". Or "tennis balls" to you and me.

Everything was going swimmingly until one particularly over-zealous teen decided to run up to the Vikings and show them his Crane Technique. Fortunately for Eric The Red our pre-pubescent chum needed to spend a few more years painting the fence and sanding the floor before his karate was up to par. A prompt Viking beat-down ensued - hurrah!

Mikala's favorite bit was the Troll garden. How lucky I am that my wife is so easy to entertain.

Did you know that Trolls are Scandinavian? I didn't... although it does explain some of Mikala's strange behaviour. If you look closely at the picture below you will see that Mikala is on the right at the back...

Each Scandinavian country had its own tent with a wall display showcasing all their marvelous inventions...

Sweden invented the propeller, the zip, the Celsius scale, The TetraPak, the ball-bearing, the adjustable spanner, safety matches and dynamite.

Norway invented Skiing and the cheese-slicer.

Denmark invented wind.

I didn't bother going into Finland's tent.

I bought some designer oven-gloves and a nice mug before we ventured forth to an industrial estate in the arse-end of nowhere looking for this Scandinavian butcher's shop Ninna knows, to see if we could procure ourselves some Danish bacon.

We could so we did - alriiiiiight!

x

Dan.

House Partay!

2007-06-27T21:05:00.000-07:00

So, a few of you have been complaining that I have been getting my blog on far too infrequently. Well, you ungrateful mendicants, brace yourselves for a double dose of Dan devastation.

Although, due to the way this blogging malarkey works, you have probably already read Parte The Seconde. Bugger...

Anyway, last week we officially re-established our rocking house party operation here in Vancooties. Yup, all the elements were in full effect: Good folks, banging choons, Manapés(TM), Guitar Hero and much rum-based tom-foolery . The only thing missing was Al's big bag of horse tranquilizers.

Oh, and all you lot. Snfff.

My culinary discovery of the evening was The Pink Margarita. Recipe follows...

- 1.5 Cups Jose Cuervo Especial Tequila
- 0.5 Cups Grand Marnier
- 100ml Kokanee Lager (Vancouver's local wife-beater - any cheap larger will do)
- Juice of the lime
- Juice of the lemon
- 1 can of frozen pink lemonade (not sure you can get that in Blighty)
- Water to taste, and a shit load of crushed ice

Mix well and watch your guests all get larrapped. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Conversation round the Weber turned entrepreneurial as we brainstormed a product that, in my opinion, will sell like extremely hot cakes: The Booby-cue. Allow me to elaborate...

What two things do men like the most?

1) Grilled Meat
2) Tits

And when they meet... it's moidah!
Yes, The Booby-cue is a charcoal grill with handles shaped like knockers. We'll clean up! Woo-hoo!

Or perhaps not.

We also had a brief hot-sauce dégustation.

On the menu was the excruciatingly hot "Dave's Insanity Sauce" and the slightly hotter "El Yucateca". This stuff is industrial grade: Judy, our super-cool land-lady, brought it for me as a gift from the Mexican restaurant she owns. (Have we written about The Topanga Cafe? Hmmm, we probably should - it's pretty special...)

Anyway, just one drop of either of these sauces is enough to make a grown man cry tears of napalm. And one particularly macho chap, our good chum Chris, decided to have a big old glug of El Yucateca. The numpty.

I dove across the room yelling "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" but it was already too late. Hilarity ensued as Chris ran around the kitchen trying to find his beer. Which, as the hot-sauce connoisseurs out there will already know, only made things worse...

(Fact: Capsicum, the active ingredient in hot sauce, does not dissolve in Alcohol, meaning that beer will only serve to distribute the burning sensation more effectively. Capsicum is best dispersed with a fatty emulsion like milk or sour cream. It's true - one of the guests there was a crazy biochemist and he told us all about it!)

Still. No permanent damage was done, thank God.

Whilst much fun was had, we did all miss you and hope that you will come and visit us soon. I honestly expected Fluffy John to rock up half an hour early to help get ice from the shop...

Peace out.
Dan.
x

PS Sorry for the lack of pictures - we were both too trashed to take any.

Rock n' Rubbish

2007-06-14T21:53:00.000-07:00

THINGS THAT ARE A BIT POO:

-We are. Dan refuses to write blogs anymore because he claims he's busy. Which he is but he still sucks.
-The fact that summer has not yet started in Van. Oh, it's still beautiful, but chilly. And rainy. And my bones are damp.

-The fact that I had to sell a kidney and half of my liver to pay off our most AMAZING AND TREMENDOUS anniversary meal at Lumiere in Vancouver. Not rubbish, however, was the three-hour "Chef's Tasting Menu" that we had which started with some small amuse-bouche (and boy, were our bouches amused!)and ended with me having a coronary staring at the bill. Dan swears he chose two of the 2nd cheapest bottles of wine...which at $75 a pop, stole a nice chunk from my credit card alone. The cocktails, menu and service? Check please!
-DayGlo Girl, the downtown hooker/crackhead. I'm sad to think of her, in her rubbish fluorescent pink wig that sits halfway off her head and how she lies, with a skin-tight skirt, waiting for tricks or passed out on my street as I walk up to the bus stop... her bruises and manky blankets really bums me out. Puts a night out to Lumiere into perspective
-Yours Truly, Angry Mob - by the Kaiser Chiefs. Singing about going out in Highroyds and how your ex rang you and asked if you'd write a song about her and you said no is catchy - for about 43 seconds. That's it. Roooooooby Roooby Rooby Rooby Rooby!
-My German boss who claims that we can't do 4.30pm beers on people's birthdays because if we added up all eight of them it would equal more than a day's loss of productivity each year. FACT!
-EA not letting Dan take holiday in August to spend in Toronto a few days before our mate Anna's wedding. Instead, he has to fly out late on Friday, back on Sunday. And all for just a few pennies - or, try, $800 for a round-trip. Within our own country. Curse you airline monopoly and video game maker!
-The rumours that Series 3 of the Mighty Boosh is being delayed because Noel Fielding's turning into more of a coked-up wanker than he was before.
-Prince Harry's joke about how Diana would appreciate a rock concert in her honour and the fact that there would be "people smiling and waving their hands in the air...like they just don't care". Wanker.

THINGS THAT ROCK:

-My Little Cthulhu - best collectible toy birthday present ever!
-WhatWouldTylerDurdenDo gossip website.
-Anything by designer/artist/toymaker Andrew Bell My new obsession, after Facebook.
-The photos of Paris being shipped back to "jail" sobbing. And subsequent news that an RCMP officer in Northern BC rescued an ailing baby moose and because it was "in custody, being pampered and burned out" - they named it, well, you know...
-The dessert tray they send you at Lumiere - just before they hand you the bill!
-Peggle - most addictive crap game ever!
-Our first house party is this weekend!

And you're all invited!

More news as and when....

xM

"A short saying often contains much wisdom" - Sophocles

2007-06-04T19:56:00.000-07:00