Gasp.

I don't know what he could have possibly been thinking, but my Justin is not bringing sexy back to Vancouver on his new tour. This makes me very upset. He is persona non grata in this house at the moment. Neither Currie or I are speaking to him.

This is very upsetting news indeed.

The Snow Man Cometh

Day 2 of steady slushy snow in Vancouver. I left the house only briefly today to slip and slide my way down the hill to the Safeway on Cardero to get groceries. Uggh. I hate Safeway. Why does it feel so much more manufactured than other grocery stores? The apples are too shiny. There are too many boxes of cereal. Etc. But it's close and it's snowing. 'Nuff said. I was rewarded for my efforts by getting 10% off any purchases I make at Safeway for the rest of the month. Which will, if I have my way, equal...zero. So...yay.

It's Currie Kitten's first snow. She's been alternating sitting on the windowsill to watch the branches on the trees in front of our apartment become slowly frosted with snow, and sitting on the laptop keyboard to get warm. The thing is, it's not a FUN snow. It's not the kind of snow where you go out with your friends and throw snowballs and act like kids again. It's not the kind of snow that leaves a hush over everything, masking the din of the city. It's more the gee-my-feet-are-kinda-cold-and-the-hems-of-my-jeans-are-soggy type snow. Sigggh.

I hope this cold snap doesn't last too long. I'm getting cabin fever, which combined with Sunday malaise, is not great for morale. Somebody come and whisk me away to balmier climes, wilya?

Putting the "North" in Hollywood North

The much-anticipated (snicker) sequel to the Fantastic Four starring Jessica Alba is filming all over town and has transformed an alley near my office, on Thurlow between Hastings and Melville, into little Hong Kong or little Shanghai or something, for part of the shoot:

I walked by tonight on my way home from seeing Stephen Frears' The Queen, and it was snowing pretty hard. Does it snow in little Hong Kong or little Shanghai? Or in any Chinese urban landscape for that matter? I'm not sure. I need some edumacatin' on this. All I know is that this used to be a nondescript alley that led into an underground parking lot and now it's got red floaty things in the air and a whole lotta neon. I just feel bad for the poor Paramount schmuck who scheduled a shoot in Vancouver and then ran into uncontrollable rain, a boil water advisory, and now, snow.

I'd stay and write a review of The Queen, which was amazing and I think fair to both HRH and Tony Blair in portraying the challenges that surrounded Princess Diana's death, but, um, Hugh Laurie is on SNL tonight and he's too cute in that unshaven Englishman-pretending-to-be-a-disgruntled-American way for me to miss...

She's Back Baby!

Oh, godlove her, Britney is back in all her glory. In celebration of her turning K-Fed into the FedEx, I'd like to share another "letter from Britney" to her fans, courtesy of the Fug Girls:

Dear Everyone:

I TOLD Y'ALL I WAS GONNA DO IT!

To Kevin: HA HA. I was just waiting until I started to get hot again to file the papers. Check out my cute, post-baby body. HOW DO YOU LIKE THIS? Yeah! That's what I'm TALKING ABOUT. It's a CLASSY dress on a HOT BODY and I still have LIKE A LOT MORE DOLLARS THAN YOU DO. So you can SUCK IT. When I told you the other night that I was bringing sexy back, I was NOT kidding, even if you did laugh. Who's laughing now?! (I am.)
I hope you enjoy the case of Pabst I gave you to celebrate your stupid "album" dropping, because that is the LAST THING you are going to get from me EVER. I hope your cornrows all fall out and you trip on your manpris and you break your face and you crash your car.
To Cameron Diaz: Watch yourself.
To the rest of world: YOU'RE WELCOME.
LOVE, BRITNEY!

I Heart Japadog


I had to go to the office this afternoon to pick up some equipment for a trip to see some clients tommorrow morning. It's a brisk autumn day, rare here in Vancouver because it's dry, with maple leaves whipping around...tommorrow it will rain and they will become mush, but today it was beautiful and romantic with leaves in hues of red, orange and gold swirling around my feet.

Stopped on the way home at the corner of Smithe and Burrard to experience some true Vancouver-style Asian fusion cuisine at Japadog. Japadog is a hot dog stand. It serves...Asian hot dogs. They come with seaweed, teriyaki mayo and wasabi. There is another special which features soy sauce, green onions and daikon radish. They are to die for. The proprietors of Japadog are a young couple, with very little English skills and the cutest baby ever, who is usually strapped to one of their backs. Mom does front-of-house (well, front of cart) duties, and Dad mans the barbecue, in chef's whites and a bright red chef's hat which has "JAPADOG!" embroidered on it in white. Everything is under 5 bucks, and it's not to be missed.

Jamie Cullum Kicks Arse

On Thursday me and my Dad (whaaat? he's cooool!) hit the Commodore to see Jamie Cullum in concert. Now, I know some people have mixed feelings about Mr. Cullum and whether he's a jazz sellout or a pop artist with some "jazzy" tendencies who shouldn't be listened to without taking Rolaids first, but you know what? The kid put on one of the most amazing shows I have ever seen. First of all, the Commodore is such a grand old place. We sat at one of the tables that flank the dance floor. My dad says he has pictures of his parents dancing there in 1945. I don't think that much has changed. So we sat staring around at the old windows, the art deco bar, and the sweeping staircases while having a drink and waiting for the show to start.

Josh Ritter (no, not the one from Joan of Arcadia) opened for Jamie. He was OK. 'Nuff said. His whole band was dressed in too-small, vaguely retroish suits with vests (not matching) and scraggly hair and beards, in true "look at me! I'm INDIE!" fashion.

Jamie and his band played for over two hours, running through his stuff from "Twentysomething" and "Catching Tails," but also jamming when the mood struck Jamie. He doesn't just sit and play his piano...he climbs on TOP of the piano, plays the piano with the stool, pounds on the keys, plays percussion on the lid...it was something to see. He must need a new piano every few shows. Apparently he never took any kind of music lessons; he's completely self-taught. Amazing.

He did a great segment where he covered some of the tripe being played on the Beat and Z95.3 at the moment...he started by saying he'd had a really weird dream the other night about Kelly Clarkson and Charlie Parker, and then launched into a fabulous, Jamie-fied jazz version of "Since You've Been Gone," which launched into a little beatboxing/jam session where he did "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley, "SexyBack" by my Justin, and that awful Pussycat Dolls Song ("Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was hoooot like meeeee"). It was quite hilarious. He also did a great version of "Seven Nation Army" by the White Stripes. I don't know how he wasn't hoarse or at least totally dehydrated, by the end of the show. He sang and played his heart out. It was great show and I was sad when it ended, despite the fact that he must have been exhausted; I'll see him anytime he comes to Vancouver. Nevermind that I don't own even one of his CDs. He is not to be missed live. He definitely has "it," that stage presence that marks a performer for greatness.

Recipe of the Month: The Break-Up Party

A must-make for all broken-hearted girls everywhere!

1. Take 7-15 fresh girlfriends.
2. Acquire the following assorted ice cream flavours: Ben & Jerry's Halfbaked, Ben & Jerry's The Gobfather, Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk, Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia, Lucerne Caramel Brownie, Grasshopper Pie, and of course, Mint Chocolate Chip ice creams.
3. Mix ice cream with marshmallows, caramel, hot fudge, and brownies. Set aside.
4. Have Seasons 1 through 6 of Sex and the City on hand. Serve ice cream while watching the episode where Carrie gets broken up with on a Post-It ("I'm Sorry. I Can't. Don't Hate Me."). It's essential to watch this episode as it shows you that there are worse breakups than yours.
5. Add Kahlua, Bailey's and other liqueurs to taste.
6. Commence bitch session. Fold in gossip.
7. Optional: top off with a BBQ'ing of pictures of ex-boyfriend.

It'll cure your ills, I promise!

Dinner with Friends.

Just got back from dinner with friends at Feenie's on West Broadway. When we left the restaurant it was pouring rain and I realized sadly that it has reached that time of year where I have to start carrying an umbrella everywhere I go. I was happy to be able to go and hop in my little co-op car (a Volkswagen Bug, bright yellow) to come home...as much as I love walking and being a city girl that was a bit too far of a hop skip and a puddle-jump for me.

We had a tough time deciding what to eat tonight and four of us decided to go for the porkchop with baked apples and spinach gnocchi. We were all a little disappointed-we thought it was salty-but for some reason when the waitress asked how everything was, we all smiled and said it was great, thank you very much. Then we all looked at each other and said, "Why did we say that?" So the next time she came back, I said to her, "Well, we lied. We actually thought they were really salty, but we didn't want to say anything." She was immediately concerned and said, "You need to tell us these things! I'll tell the kitchen immediately, thank you for your comments!" Later, she came to me and said in an undertone, "It's good to be honest. I've taken care of all the porkchops for you. " She also comped us a bottle of wine, which was extremely good of her...it's not like Feenie's is hurting for business, but she really was concerned that we wouldn't come back.

We made up for the lacklustre dinner in a big way by ordering...EVERY dessert on the menu. "We'll have them all," I said grandly, handing the menu back to the somewhat shocked but amused waitress. There were 8 of us, so 6 desserts between 8 wouldn't be that bad, we reasoned. It's not even a whole dessert each, right?

The waitress staggered the arrival of the desserts so that we wouldn't be intimidated but it was still quite a sight to see one table laden with pumpkin mousse, gingerbread creme brulee, chocolate fondant cake, apple galette, sticky toffee pudding, and chocolate brownies. We couldn't finish it all, that's how much dessert there was. My teeth hurt. I have a sugar-high headache. If my dad had been there, he'd be in a coma by now. It was ridiculous. But fun. Not something I think I'll be doing again any time soon. Is it too late to go for a run tonight and work off this sugar?

Happy Big Chicken Day

Home on the Island for Thanksgiving, and it's raining in a way that it never rains in Vancouver. Of course Dad is cooking turkey dinner. This holiday feels a little more exciting this year as it's Kenji's first Thanksgiving. At the moment Mom is in the dining room explaining the intricacies of pie forks, salad forks and turkey forks to him while Kenji plays selections of Japanese boy-band music on his IPod for Mom (no word on what she thinks of that yet). Dad is in the kitchen stuffing the turkey.

Which, coincidentally, we have to keep secret. Kenji explained about a month ago, when we introduced the concept of Thanksgiving, that turkeys are never eaten in Japan. In fact, they are protected. From what we understood, turkeys were one of three species of bird that are protected there. Kenji professed that he would NOT be able to eat turkey. Today we were having the conversation again, and we said, "Kenji, what are the three birds that are protected in Japan?" Kenji looked at us, sighed, and said, "I TOLD you. Turkey, turkey and turkey."

Oh. So it's not three species of birds. It's three birds, total. Three turkeys, to be exact. So it's like, REALLY bad that we're making Kenji eat turkey now. Definitely NOT a photo we want to send home to his Mom and Dad.

So, as of today, it's not Turkey, it's Big Chicken. Dad announced that he was going to stuff the Big Chicken, and has warned Kenji not to come in. None of us are mentioning the T-word but rather exclaiming how excited we are for the Big Chicken. Kenji asked how much the bird weighed and Dad replied, "21 pounds." "Wow," said Kenji. "That's a BIG CHICKEN."

Yes, yes, it's Big Chicken. Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.

Is Summer Really Over?


Summer isn't complete without eating dinner out on the back patio at home at 1536 Winchester. Edy and I went home in August for Popo's famous chili-rubbed back ribs in espresso barbecue sauce. I'd post the recipe but it's top secret. If you want it, email me and I'll share, but you gotta promise not to tell anyone.


Those are some nice lookin' ribs.


Laura and Alex on the back patio at home.

The newest Lemon Family member, our new bro Kenji.

Moi.