the habberjams

One of the cooler things about living in Toronto is all of the deals you can get on a daily basis. I recently got into TeamBuy and WagJag, both websites which offer a deal on a daily basis (some last longer than one day), typically a meal, service or other entertainment in the range of 30-60% off the regular price. TeamBuy is where I got my gym membership from – 6 months for $150, which is an amazing deal.

I just stumbled across another one, too. It’s similar, but works slightly differently – you get coupons emailed to you daily. I’ve just signed up, and I’m looking forward to the deals they feature. Check it out at Groupon.

I love this city, and I love BlogTO. The good peeps over at that organisation have created a bunch of maps of the city with a specifically BlogTO flavour – pointing out restaurants, galleries, clubs, museums etc. they feature and review regularly. You can pick them up free in many citywide venues, or else you can order them online for a small fee. Take a look! I haven’t picked mine up yet, but I’ll be keeping an eye out for these colourful pieces of sure-to-be Toronto lore.

There was an article recently in the Washington Post about Joshua Bell, considered one of the world’s greatest violinists out there today, playing just outside a subway exit for 45 minutes and receiving barely any attention at all.

The article reflects to me my own reactions to busking: I appreciate the sounds and do listen intently as I walk hurriedly past, barely taking the time to acknowledge the busker with a glance. Yes, I enjoy the music. Yes, I’m usually busy. Yes, I feel guilty for not flicking a coin or two into the busker’s case.

A couple of weeks ago, I was casually walking around the Annex, enjoying a warmer sunny afternoon than we’ve had for a while. A small band of three twenty-something boys was clustered on a corner, busking away in the sun.

But there was something special this time – the drummer was really, really good. He was belting out a rhythm that had me captivated. I caught his eye. I hesitated. I could just tell that a crowd wanted to form, but the timid Torontonians around, myself included, just couldn’t bring ourselves to stop and listen for a few moments. All of us who noticed that group moved on.

I’ve never really shown that my enjoyment of the music I’ve heard on the streets. When I do look at the busker, I’m sure there’s some strange expression of the need for reservation and stoicness in my eyes that they must recognise in most passersby. I never remember where I was rushing to when I do recall a public performance such as this, though I usually recall the performances themselves. And it’s so damn difficult to stop, dig through my purse, open it and find appropriate change – if I even have any on me.
And so I move on… and it will likely remain that way. It truly is a matter, for me, of the music being out of context. Even though, as the years pass and the buskers remain on the street, “context” must eventually evolve to include “the street” as one other place one would expect to hear musicians – even great ones.

Living downtown, I’ve begun to notice something. While, on the rare occasions I do go out, the smoke has cleared in bars and clubs for the most part – people do still smoke in clubs especially; who’s to stop them when there’s a massive crowd protecting them from the view of whomever is meant to enforce the law? – I find that now, as a result of the further imposition that people aren’t even allowed to smoke outdoors on a patio (is that true? is it just a rumour? I’m confused now), everywhere I walk, I inhale much more concentrated trails of cigarette smoke. Everywhere. Constantly. Every other breath – sometimes every breath – is an inhalation of someone else’s smoke trail.

It smells disgusting. I hate it – it’s worse than the car fumes. It’s such a direct hit on your nose as well. It’s worse because they’re walking in front of you, the smoke is trailing behind them, and it’s going directly up into your face, into your nostrils. If I’m standing with a friend who’s smoking, it’s not nearly so bad, because I stand upwind; I have a choice of location then. When I’m just minding my own business walking down the sidewalk, and keep suddenly smelling other people’s cigarettes against my will – well it’s very frustrating constantly having to make beelines around people, or being forced to rush ahead or even, when it’s crowded, push past them to get ahead and breathe freely again.

I don’t know if turning everyone out into the streets to smoke was really such a good idea. I suppose it’s great for people who work in bars and clubs. And for people who go there all the time. But why the patio rule? It’s an even greater imposition on us, otherwise healthy, pedestrians who now get constant, concentrated cigarette smoke up our nostrils (and into our lungs) just because we choose to be healthier or save money and walk.

[Jan. 24, 2007 Edit: I've turned off commenting for now. I didn't mean to incite a riot on my blog; I was simply expressing my opinion on this matter. Everyone is entitled to either like or dislike smoking, just as they are drinking alcohol, which has perhaps worse consequences because of people drinking and driving. So, not to cut anyone off, but debate is what your own blogs are for. Feel free to link to this post if you wish.]

Winter has finally landed in Toronto!

Currently: -13°C and snow and ice everywhere. I wonder if they’ll be calling out the army again?

Ever since I started working at my day job, people calling me have been attempting to reach the Toronto Humane Society (THS for the rest of the entry). I don’t normally get phone calls at work; my job is mostly email-based. So when I arrive in the morning and my phone blinks to inform me I have a message, I’m reasonably certain it’s one of the masses attempting to reach the THS and, more often than not, the message consists of a click. Sometimes there’s a sigh, sometimes a murmur, sometimes it’s a brief outburst of someone yelling at someone else before the inevitable click.

This morning it was an old woman, calling to give the THS a piece of her mind.

Her meak and cracking voice, hesitant at first, began by asking if she’d reached the right place. I can’t for the life of me imagine how so many people still leave message for the THS when I explicitly state in my message that they’ve reached Christina at such and such a company.

The old woman leaving her message soon launched into quite the spiel about the animals that get left at the THS on a regular basis. “I heard that you kill the animals. Now I want to know, why would you go and kill the poor animals?”… it went on. She began to sound more and more vexxed as her voice wobbled and her articulation degenerated.

I couldn’t listen to the whole message; I fast-forwarded and deleted it. The sound of such a pathetic voice championing for the lives of dejected animals was just too much. I honestly don’t know how workers at the THS do it on a daily basis; they are there to help the animals as much as they possibly, humanely, can and then they have to listen to the likes of that on top of it all? It must be quite the depressing job. Hats off to the Toronto Humane Society and all they do to as best as possible accomodate all the lonely dejected animals that inhabit our bit of this land.

What better way to describe Hallowe’en than through the photos taken of all the wonderful, glorious costumes?

Except I lost a bunch of photos and am left with mostly ones of the people in my group as we travelled Church St. while it was closed off on October 31st. Ah well.

Jesus and Michael Jackson (specifically from the video of Smooth Criminal)

A Russian Cop and myself dressed as the Fairy Queen

And one last for the road. I’ll grant you one wish this All Hallow’s Eve!

I discovered a salad bar near my work a few months ago, and I’ve been addicted to their ceaser salads ever since.

The place is called lettuce eatery, and offers a wide variety of lettuces and other ingredients so you can make any salad you could possibly think of. They have a menu for “chef designed” salads and a menu for “custom crafted” salads as well.

I first had the shrimp ceaser grill salad with romaine lettuce, grilled shrimp, shaved parmesan, croutons and ceaser dressing, along with a slice of their free fresh bread at the cash, and a small bottle of Orangina. I was instantly in love with this particular combination of choices, and it’s the one that’s stuck. I’ve tried a couple of the other salads, such as the ceaser grill with chicken, the asian chicken salad and a modified mediterranean salad, but none came close to being as satisfying or interesting in its combination of flavours and textures as the shrimp ceaser grill. I love sweet flavours, and I think the ceaser salad at lettuce is particularly sweet, which I find helps as well.

In any case, it’s more-ish and I end up having at least two meals a week at that place these days. With the meal coming up to a total of $11.34 pretty much every time it’s an expensive, though primarily healthy (I’ll admit the dressing is maybe not the healthiest), option. If you’re in the market to expand your lunchtime fast food options, I’d recommend checking this place out. Check their website for a location near you.