Thursday, October 30, 2008

UPDATE IN PICTURES

Toronto Maple Leafs vs Anaheim Ducks. Toronto lost in a shoot out.

Pissed off because Leafs are losing.





Montreal Harbour
Jean Drapeau


Old Montreal


Notre Dame Basilica






Kingston







Napanee. Funny - doesn't look like a shit hole from above.



Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Small Update

We are halfway through our holiday in Canada and so far I:

- almost broke my nose
- fell in love with Montreal
- Briefly thought about becoming a Habs fan (still thinking about it)
- ate at the delicious Au Pied de Cochon in the Plateau
- flew in a helicopter
- argued with a racist family member (always fun and useless)
- had fabulous drinks at Chez Piggy on Thanksgiving
- had a beavertail in Ottawa

Tonight: Toronto Maple Leafs vs Anaheim Ducks at the Air Canada Centre. Go Leafs go!

Friday, October 10, 2008

On Holiday

Here's a hint as to where we're going:


au voir, dudes

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Scenes From a Transatlantic Relationship #1

A couple months ago, Paul, my Glaswegian boyfriend, came out of our washroom and announced, "there's a bluebottle in the toilet".

Totally perplexed by his comment, I just stared at him, trying to process the bizarre scenario.

Thinking I didn't hear the first time, Paul repeated himself, "there's a bluebottle in the toilet".

I was totally at a loss - why was there a bottle in the toilet bowl? Who put it there? Why didn't Paul pick it out from the toilet but feel the need to tell me? I JUST DIDN'T GET IT.

"What are you talking about? Did you drop a bottle in the toilet!"

Realising that I was in North American mode, Paul sighed, "No, you numptie! A bluebottle is a fly! There's a fly in there"

"Ohhhh! You mean there is a horse fly in the washroom!"

"Yeah, whatever"

Monday, October 06, 2008

This past weekend my friends, Claire and Kate, and I randomly met a WAG. Initially we had no idea who she was, when she approached us for a light for her cigarette.

My friends and I started chatting to her, lamenting that Ashton Lane just wasn't what it used to be. She agreed with us and commented that the Chip was full of "artsy fartsy" types. As she delicately raised her cigarette to her lips, my eyes caught sight of her HUGE tear drop diamond engagement ring.

"Wow! Is that real?" I asked.
"Yes. And I picked it out myself!" She commented.

She held out her hand to display the ring. Now normally I'm not impressed with diamonds and more often than not, am concerned with the ethics and what civil war they could be funding. This ring, however, was stunning and I had never seen such a rock as huge as hers.

"I'll tell you what though, I had to go through a lot for it," she added.

Immediately (and perhaps cynically?) I thought she might be a gangster's fiance because, not only am I naive, but absent-minded and totally forget that I live in a city with various football teams whose players, apparently, are huge stars and make loads of money for kicking a ball around.

As we continued to chat away, she revealed some personal details and suddenly I put it all together.

This stunning woman that we were casually talking to was the partner of a famous footballer. And being the barbaric and uncouth North American, I just came right out and asked her.

"Is your partner __________?" I asked
"Yes, he is," she kindly offered.

My friends and I were floored. The gorgeous fiance of a famous footballer was sharing a smoke with us mere plebeians.

We chatted a bit more and as she finished her cigarette, we wished her well and headed off to a pub. My friend, Claire, who knows all the dish about every famous and infamous Glaswegian, turned to Kate and I, and gave us the scoop about her and her famous partner.

Unfortunately, you see, there are Scottish tabloids that thrive on airing every intimate detail about famous Scottish couples. Since I never read rags in the past (and am a dirty immigrant), I wasn't privy to this woman's relationship with her famous dude. It was rather unsettling to think that this poor woman's private life had been splashed across the front pages for public consumption. Even worse, I don't think she ever courted the spotlight - unlike other WAGS or semi-famous people - and now every other punter in Scotland knows her and her business and has an opinion about it.

Still, it was thrilling to think that we met her on such a random night and how cool she was.

Thursday, October 02, 2008


Beautiful People
is the best thing I have seen on TV in a long time.

Maybe it's because I'm a confirmed hag or maybe it's because I am a friend of Dorothy, trapped in a woman's body, but I loved BBC Two's, Beautiful People.

The programme is based on the best-selling memoirs of Simon Doonan, Creative Director of Barney's, New York, who grew up in the very unglamorous city of Reading, England. The programme is set in 1997, with Simon and his best friend, Kyle (who prefers to be called, "Kylie", after his idol), dreaming of beautiful people, fabulous fashion, and show tunes.

If you missed the first episode, check it out on BBC's iPlayer here.

For more on Simon Doonan and all his fabulousness, check him out: