we finally bought our tickets! it took us two months to decide on the dates and i am relieved that it is all finalized. we are doing a two-night stopover in hong kong and then manila. i haven't been back since we flew to LA for christmas in 1996 and then moved to canada in 1997.
that's 13 years!
i am so excited. i have cousins that i've only heard of and met through facebook.
so yeah, being the dork that i am, i've put up a countdown on the sidebar of this blog. it eases the pain of not being able to take any vacation days right now.
have a great day everyone!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
it's official: philippines!
Monday, April 26, 2010
cherry blossoms
it's 11:10 PM and the wind is howling like crazy. is it the same for you or is it just in markham?
a week from now and john will be on his way to new york. it will be sad, but he needs to do what he needs and wants to do. i just need to be patient and to keep trusting that everything will fall into place. i must admit that i am excited for him. it's the type of thing that you watch in movies. :)but ah, enough emo-ness. we finally got to experience the much talked about (and photographed!) cherry blossoms. we started the day at ikea teehee and watched chloe.
BLARGH. we didn't know that it was going to be THAT bad, but knowing that it was an atom egoyan film should have given it away. never again.
to remedy the failed motion picture experience, we walked to petite thuet and bought macarons. their macarons are so much better than the ones i got from la bamboche. they were perfect: a nice little outer crust and chewy inside. my favorite is rosewater. the girl at the cafe even tied a little ribbon around the box ("purple or blue?" could i have pink please? ha.) we took the train to high park and followed the crowds.
if you haven't gone, you should. it is so beautiful. it looked like...pink snow. light pink snow. and everyone there just looked so happy.
have a great week everyone.
a canopy of pink loveliness.
i will miss this old man.
rosewater, hazelnut and salted caramel.
sigh. i can eat them all day.
macaron-shaped heart.
macaron toast. we toast to everything. even chopsticks.
john's very first macaron experience.
Friday, April 23, 2010
more pictures from victoria
highlights from the victoria trip:
- scariest room ever: i stayed at the fairmont empress, which is apparently haunted. i swear, i was woken up in the middle of the night by something or someone, tugging at my comforter (something a cat would do when they're trying to wake you up).
- chinatown - i loved, loved their chinatown
- discovering the venus sophia tearoom
- japanese takeout on my bed, with food network in the background
(scroll below for more picsies)
have a great friday everyone!
tomorrow john and i will make the trek to high park to see the sakura trees and i'm hoping that we'll have time to watch the backup plan. harhar, yeaaaaahhh, it's j. lo and the idea's been done, but i also enjoyed the wedding planner and maid in manhattan. harhar.
enjoy the sunshiney day.
more here.
Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer
Sunday, April 18, 2010
i love you, room.
in the past 6 days i have gone on 5 flights, slept in four hotels, been to 4 different cities, and rode in one tacky white stretch limo (to saskatoon, can you imagine) and have indulged in abundant conference food and client dinners. i had a lot of fun and learned a lot and feel so blessed and thankful to have been given this awesome opportunity, but i am so glad to be home. to be with family.
i came home yesterday and wanted to get down on my knees and kiss the carpet of my room. i know that sounds a little dramatic, but sleeping in a different hotel room every night is not as romantic as it seems. it is lonely and in some ways, a little freaky.
today, i have never felt so happy to wake up in my own bed and to spend the day just la-dee-da-ing around. in joy i have eaten 3 bananas with nutella and made a nice salisbury steak and mashed potatoes dinner for me and my sister and john, watched three movies (out of 9 movies i've checked out from the library) and reruns of the delicious miss dahl.
i hope your saturday was as good as mine.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
victoria
i am in edmonton now (after the most horrible flight with westjet) but just wanted to share a few iphone picsies from victoria. these pictures of course don't do victoria justice. i took more pictures with the dslr but will have to wait this weekend to upload them.
anyhoo, victoria is GORGEOUS. fresh air, beautiful mountains and surrounded by water. very jealous. i flew earlier than the rest of the company (we are doing client roadshows for work in different cities) and spent three hours walking around. i've always wanted to do solo escapades but i realized yesterday that it's not a lot of fun to be completely alone. it's nice to share the experience with someone. we stayed at the fairmont empress and hated it. i hated my room. it looked freaky. but i did like the fact that i can borrow gym clothes.
i am wide awake for some reason, considering that it is 2:40 am in toronto. hm. i am liking our current hotel much better. cannot wait to wake up for breakfast as i am h-u-n-g-r-y!
must count sheep.
good night all. all this traveling sorta reminds me of up in the air.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
photo shoot
john asked me to be his assistant for his photoshoot/creative for his fashion project in school. it was a fun experience and after going through monocle and several clippings of GQ, (yes on good friday, tsk tsk) we had to do an emergency trip to downtown to buy clothes as eaton centre was the only one open for the holiday. man, i could get used to being driven to downtown. shopping for this shoot was tiring and a little stressful, so much so that i succumbed to half a filet-o-fish meal from mcdonald's. when we got home we had to do different looks, photograph each of them and plan out the shot list.
today i was john's little assistant and had to help with dressing the model, fold the clothes, prepare for the next look, take pictures of the shoot and just basically be at john's beck and call. everyone was just so amazing. randell and damon had awesome chemistry and michelle was just a kickass makeup artist. this is something i can also get used to.
some lessons learned:
* have a heavy lunch before something huge like this.
* it's always a few degrees cooler and windier in downtown. dress warmly.
* be specific with parking directions, to make it easier for everyone.
* bring folding chairs.
* unbutton dress shirts while waiting for next look.
* dress warmly.
* and dress warmly.
ps: man, damon could be the chuck bass's younger (and taller) brother.
( see below for more photos!)
Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer
stylist: john medalla
photographer: randell rowe
makeup artist: michelle reis
model: damon from elmer olsen model management
clothes & shoes: h+m, zara, urban outfitters
accessories: stylist's own, fossil, green shag, filson
location: harbourfront
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
hello spring
i missed you so.
your coming means a trip outwest. thinner coats. flats. brunches in patios. frequent walks in downtown. gelato. bbqs in the backyard. hydrangeas and peonies. sunnier days. sunglasses. open toes.
but sigh, you also mean other things: his looming departure. heartache. sushi for one.
ps: maybe i'll start my 365 from where i left off...maybe. and then hibernate once again when winter comes. harhar.
Monday, March 29, 2010
cracks
this movie reminded me of my jk- grade 5 years in an all-girls school, where i always had to play the male role because of my height, crushed on jonathan taylor thomas and devon sawa like crazy and collected lisa frank stickers and hello kitty stationary.
Monday, February 22, 2010
m.i.a
hello all.
i know, i've disappeared for a while.
i think i'm overblogged. it's been quite busy, and i am sorry and disappointed to say that i've failed my 365 challenge miserably. it's amazing how others can do it, but i just haven't had the time...i know inspiration is everywhere, but it's hard to find that between work and home. other factors include the weight and bulkiness of the camera, the lack of daylight (no excuse!...maybe lack of equipment? harhar), and i just haven't been "feeling" it.
so i will restart the 365 challenge, but maybe a little later when things aren't so crazy with work, school,and everything else.
will probably restart blogging more frequently too, but for now i am enjoying the break from the laptop.
will blog again soon.
have a good week!
Friday, February 5, 2010
The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination, by JK Rowling
source: slow muse
surfing online leads you to different places and i am glad i found this speech given by JK rowling - her address to Harvard Graduates ('08). i teared up and it made my heart hurt. you may watch the video here, but i think the text is just as moving.
President Faust, members of the Harvard Corporation and the Board of Overseers, members of the faculty, proud parents, and, above all, graduates.
The first thing I would like to say is ‘thank you.’ Not only has Harvard given me an extraordinary honour, but the weeks of fear and nausea I have endured at the thought of giving this commencement address have made me lose weight. A win-win situation! Now all I have to do is take deep breaths, squint at the red banners and convince myself that I am at the world’s largest Gryffindor reunion.
Delivering a commencement address is a great responsibility; or so I thought until I cast my mind back to my own graduation. The commencement speaker that day was the distinguished British philosopher Baroness Mary Warnock. Reflecting on her speech has helped me enormously in writing this one, because it turns out that I can’t remember a single word she said. This liberating discovery enables me to proceed without any fear that I might inadvertently influence you to abandon promising careers in business, the law or politics for the giddy delights of becoming a gay wizard.
You see? If all you remember in years to come is the ‘gay wizard’ joke, I’ve come out ahead of Baroness Mary Warnock. Achievable goals: the first step to self improvement.
Actually, I have wracked my mind and heart for what I ought to say to you today. I have asked myself what I wish I had known at my own graduation, and what important lessons I have learned in the 21 years that have expired between that day and this.
I have come up with two answers. On this wonderful day when we are gathered together to celebrate your academic success, I have decided to talk to you about the benefits of failure. And as you stand on the threshold of what is sometimes called ‘real life’, I want to extol the crucial importance of imagination.
These may seem quixotic or paradoxical choices, but please bear with me.
Looking back at the 21-year-old that I was at graduation, is a slightly uncomfortable experience for the 42-year-old that she has become. Half my lifetime ago, I was striking an uneasy balance between the ambition I had for myself, and what those closest to me expected of me.
I was convinced that the only thing I wanted to do, ever, was to write novels. However, my parents, both of whom came from impoverished backgrounds and neither of whom had been to college, took the view that my overactive imagination was an amusing personal quirk that would never pay a mortgage, or secure a pension. I know that the irony strikes with the force of a cartoon anvil, now.
So they hoped that I would take a vocational degree; I wanted to study English Literature. A compromise was reached that in retrospect satisfied nobody, and I went up to study Modern Languages. Hardly had my parents’ car rounded the corner at the end of the road than I ditched German and scuttled off down the Classics corridor.
I cannot remember telling my parents that I was studying Classics; they might well have found out for the first time on graduation day. Of all the subjects on this planet, I think they would have been hard put to name one less useful than Greek mythology when it came to securing the keys to an executive bathroom.
I would like to make it clear, in parenthesis, that I do not blame my parents for their point of view. There is an expiry date on blaming your parents for steering you in the wrong direction; the moment you are old enough to take the wheel, responsibility lies with you. What is more, I cannot criticise my parents for hoping that I would never experience poverty. They had been poor themselves, and I have since been poor, and I quite agree with them that it is not an ennobling experience. Poverty entails fear, and stress, and sometimes depression; it means a thousand petty humiliations and hardships. Climbing out of poverty by your own efforts, that is indeed something on which to pride yourself, but poverty itself is romanticised only by fools.
What I feared most for myself at your age was not poverty, but failure.
At your age, in spite of a distinct lack of motivation at university, where I had spent far too long in the coffee bar writing stories, and far too little time at lectures, I had a knack for passing examinations, and that, for years, had been the measure of success in my life and that of my peers.
I am not dull enough to suppose that because you are young, gifted and well-educated, you have never known hardship or heartbreak. Talent and intelligence never yet inoculated anyone against the caprice of the Fates, and I do not for a moment suppose that everyone here has enjoyed an existence of unruffled privilege and contentment.
However, the fact that you are graduating from Harvard suggests that you are not very well-acquainted with failure. You might be driven by a fear of failure quite as much as a desire for success. Indeed, your conception of failure might not be too far from the average person’s idea of success, so high have you already flown.
Ultimately, we all have to decide for ourselves what constitutes failure, but the world is quite eager to give you a set of criteria if you let it. So I think it fair to say that by any conventional measure, a mere seven years after my graduation day, I had failed on an epic scale. An exceptionally short-lived marriage had imploded, and I was jobless, a lone parent, and as poor as it is possible to be in modern Britain, without being homeless. The fears that my parents had had for me, and that I had had for myself, had both come to pass, and by every usual standard, I was the biggest failure I knew.
Now, I am not going to stand here and tell you that failure is fun. That period of my life was a dark one, and I had no idea that there was going to be what the press has since represented as a kind of fairy tale resolution. I had no idea then how far the tunnel extended, and for a long time, any light at the end of it was a hope rather than a reality.
So why do I talk about the benefits of failure? Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.
You might never fail on the scale I did, but some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default.
Failure gave me an inner security that I had never attained by passing examinations. Failure taught me things about myself that I could have learned no other way. I discovered that I had a strong will, and more discipline than I had suspected; I also found out that I had friends whose value was truly above the price of rubies.
The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are, ever after, secure in your ability to survive. You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity. Such knowledge is a true gift, for all that it is painfully won, and it has been worth more than any qualification I ever earned.
So given a Time Turner, I would tell my 21-year-old self that personal happiness lies in knowing that life is not a check-list of acquisition or achievement. Your qualifications, your CV, are not your life, though you will meet many people of my age and older who confuse the two. Life is difficult, and complicated, and beyond anyone’s total control, and the humility to know that will enable you to survive its vicissitudes.
Now you might think that I chose my second theme, the importance of imagination, because of the part it played in rebuilding my life, but that is not wholly so. Though I personally will defend the value of bedtime stories to my last gasp, I have learned to value imagination in a much broader sense. Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared.
One of the greatest formative experiences of my life preceded Harry Potter, though it informed much of what I subsequently wrote in those books. This revelation came in the form of one of my earliest day jobs. Though I was sloping off to write stories during my lunch hours, I paid the rent in my early 20s by working at the African research department at Amnesty International’s headquarters in London.
There in my little office I read hastily scribbled letters smuggled out of totalitarian regimes by men and women who were risking imprisonment to inform the outside world of what was happening to them. I saw photographs of those who had disappeared without trace, sent to Amnesty by their desperate families and friends. I read the testimony of torture victims and saw pictures of their injuries. I opened handwritten, eye-witness accounts of summary trials and executions, of kidnappings and rapes.
Many of my co-workers were ex-political prisoners, people who had been displaced from their homes, or fled into exile, because they had the temerity to speak against their governments. Visitors to our offices included those who had come to give information, or to try and find out what had happened to those they had left behind.
I shall never forget the African torture victim, a young man no older than I was at the time, who had become mentally ill after all he had endured in his homeland. He trembled uncontrollably as he spoke into a video camera about the brutality inflicted upon him. He was a foot taller than I was, and seemed as fragile as a child. I was given the job of escorting him back to the Underground Station afterwards, and this man whose life had been shattered by cruelty took my hand with exquisite courtesy, and wished me future happiness.
And as long as I live I shall remember walking along an empty corridor and suddenly hearing, from behind a closed door, a scream of pain and horror such as I have never heard since. The door opened, and the researcher poked out her head and told me to run and make a hot drink for the young man sitting with her. She had just had to give him the news that in retaliation for his own outspokenness against his country’s regime, his mother had been seized and executed.
Every day of my working week in my early 20s I was reminded how incredibly fortunate I was, to live in a country with a democratically elected government, where legal representation and a public trial were the rights of everyone.
Every day, I saw more evidence about the evils humankind will inflict on their fellow humans, to gain or maintain power. I began to have nightmares, literal nightmares, about some of the things I saw, heard, and read.
And yet I also learned more about human goodness at Amnesty International than I had ever known before.
Amnesty mobilises thousands of people who have never been tortured or imprisoned for their beliefs to act on behalf of those who have. The power of human empathy, leading to collective action, saves lives, and frees prisoners. Ordinary people, whose personal well-being and security are assured, join together in huge numbers to save people they do not know, and will never meet. My small participation in that process was one of the most humbling and inspiring experiences of my life.
Unlike any other creature on this planet, humans can learn and understand, without having experienced. They can think themselves into other people’s places.
Of course, this is a power, like my brand of fictional magic, that is morally neutral. One might use such an ability to manipulate, or control, just as much as to understand or sympathise.
And many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are. They can refuse to hear screams or to peer inside cages; they can close their minds and hearts to any suffering that does not touch them personally; they can refuse to know.
I might be tempted to envy people who can live that way, except that I do not think they have any fewer nightmares than I do. Choosing to live in narrow spaces leads to a form of mental agoraphobia, and that brings its own terrors. I think the wilfully unimaginative see more monsters. They are often more afraid.
What is more, those who choose not to empathise enable real monsters. For without ever committing an act of outright evil ourselves, we collude with it, through our own apathy.
One of the many things I learned at the end of that Classics corridor down which I ventured at the age of 18, in search of something I could not then define, was this, written by the Greek author Plutarch: What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality.
That is an astonishing statement and yet proven a thousand times every day of our lives. It expresses, in part, our inescapable connection with the outside world, the fact that we touch other people’s lives simply by existing.
But how much more are you, Harvard graduates of 2008, likely to touch other people’s lives? Your intelligence, your capacity for hard work, the education you have earned and received, give you unique status, and unique responsibilities. Even your nationality sets you apart. The great majority of you belong to the world’s only remaining superpower. The way you vote, the way you live, the way you protest, the pressure you bring to bear on your government, has an impact way beyond your borders. That is your privilege, and your burden.
If you choose to use your status and influence to raise your voice on behalf of those who have no voice; if you choose to identify not only with the powerful, but with the powerless; if you retain the ability to imagine yourself into the lives of those who do not have your advantages, then it will not only be your proud families who celebrate your existence, but thousands and millions of people whose reality you have helped change. We do not need magic to change the world, we carry all the power we need inside ourselves already: we have the power to imagine better.
I am nearly finished. I have one last hope for you, which is something that I already had at 21. The friends with whom I sat on graduation day have been my friends for life. They are my children’s godparents, the people to whom I’ve been able to turn in times of trouble, people who have been kind enough not to sue me when I took their names for Death Eaters. At our graduation we were bound by enormous affection, by our shared experience of a time that could never come again, and, of course, by the knowledge that we held certain photographic evidence that would be exceptionally valuable if any of us ran for Prime Minister.
So today, I wish you nothing better than similar friendships. And tomorrow, I hope that even if you remember not a single word of mine, you remember those of Seneca, another of those old Romans I met when I fled down the Classics corridor, in retreat from career ladders, in search of ancient wisdom:As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.I wish you all very good lives.Thank you very much.
source: harvard magazine
33/365: the jersey boys
this was taken yesterday at the first canadian place. jersey boys came and did a few songs, some of which you may know very well: sherry, my boyfriend's back, walk like a man and...can't take my eyes off of you.
it was an awesome lunchbreak and now i really want to go see it!
(for a limited time only, they're selling jersey boy tickets for $25 & $60 - perfect for valentine's day)
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
32/365: routine
eat dinner or depending on the day, get home late after a dizzying ride on the go bus
hang out with the siblings, blog, chat or watch food network
eat a banana with nutella
prepare lunch for the next day
iron and hang up clothes for the next day
take a shower.
talk to john.
sleep at midnight. argh.
this is what happens every morning:
wake up at 5:55 am
hit the snooze button
wake up for real at 6:00 am
shower and wash my hair
dry my hair
straighten my hair
tease my hair
apply makeup
make sure everything is unplugged
go downstairs
leave at 7:00 AM
this is what happens when i get to downtown:
wake up
get off at union station
run to catch the streetcar
get off streetcar
walk into building
go up the elevators
use receptionist's magic button to open door
turn on computer
read emails
get bowl from kitchen
make coffee
take out box of cereal from drawer
measure out cereal into bowl
cut up bananas
eat and sip
read emails
work
this happens everyday. it's a little sickening. just a little.
if i can just take my time to do things that would be heavenly. when i go on solitary dates i have to literally tell myself to slow down, walk and look around.
good night all.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
31/365: class notes
this is what happens when you mix
sleepiness + ontario human rights code + talkative teacher
= badly written notes
my university notes looked like this, pre-laptop era.
the two paragraphs are actually the same. i rewrote it after slapping myself awake.
i took a picture of this because i just had to share it with you. looking at it amuses me because the first paragraph just looks downright ridiculous.
sometimes i dread tuesday nights.
have a good night all :)
30/365: ink
an inkwell for a nice fountain pen, both from john, to encourage more handwritten letters. i haven't refilled the pen yet, but it writes so smoothly and i feel like a jane austen character...although i'm sure they used quills. or not. i don't know. i'm basing all this from the pride&prejudice movie. harhar.
ps: i like how the inkpot looks so old worldly and antique. the bottom says "paris". sigh. :)
Monday, February 1, 2010
29/365: mascarpone & nutella calzone
this was yesterday's dessert.
when i saw david rocco make this on food network i just had to do it too!
you may find the recipe here.
since i have a sweet tooth, i would probably change the ratio to 2:1 nutella & mascarpone.
this is the perfect combination ever. david rocco knew what he was doing for sure!
ps: mascarpone can be a little pricey. don't buy from loblaws. longo's has it cheaper. if you know of any other cheaper places to buy mascarpone, let me know!
grownup pizza party + new york, i love you
yesterday my best friend, her lovely bf, neil and john had a little grown up pizza party. hehe. we used whole wheat dough that you can buy from your local grocery's bakery (like loblaws). for toppings we had
* caramelized onions
* spinach
* grilled eggplant
* pesto
* tomato paste
* anchovies
* spicy salami
* mushrooms
* cheddar and mozzarella cheese
it was a lot of fun, coming up with different combinations. afterwards we had some dessert (will share with you in a different post!) and coffee and watched new york, i love you.
sigh, unfortunately i didn't really love it. there were only two stories that i like, one of the little girl and her "manny" and the one of the old couple on their anniversary. besides that, i felt that it didn't showcase the city so much and the stories just didn't blend so well. hm. but that's just me.
28/365: nutella love + list #1: a list of things that used to excite me when i was a kid
happy monday! how was your weekend? i have been somewhat amiss with my blogging and meant to do this yesterday! i visited rebecca's blog and found a nice list of things that used to excite her when she was younger! i thought it would be a good idea to make a list too.
so without further ado, things that used to excite me when i was younger:
- pool parties
- walking down the toy aisles
- fireworks on new year's eve
- family parties
- drinking pop (soda- we were only allowed to drink coke at parties!)
- friday night line up of batman, x-men, are you afraid of the dark?
- 10-hour family roadtrips
- presents from my godfather who lived in germany and malaysia. the best one was a matryoshka doll (it saddens me that i no longer have it!)
- writing and acting out skits in grade school
- mr. squiggle, play school, sesame street
- sappy mexican soap operas/telenovelas that we used to watch in secret: marimar, maria mercedes (the nannies let us watch them!)
- barbie dolls
- hello kitty stationary
- stamps
- stickers and sticker books (esp. felt, shiny, or scratch and smell, lisa frank stickers)
- cross-stitching
- buying dmc skeins and embroidery loops
- starting a new pattern
- home ec class (we started at a really young age - grade 2!)
- blue kool aid
- cheese stuffed hotdogs
- breakfast at mcdonald's
- sonic on sega
- mario brothers and duck hunt on nintendo
- school supply shopping
- tea sets and kitchen toys
- little tikes
- tonkatsu and tempura
- goosebumps, sweet valley and nancy drew books
- jem
- school socks trimmed with lace
- french braids
what's yours? what used to excite you when you were younger?
my next list will probably be things that get me excited presently. nutella for sure will be one of them. especially when it's on sale. :)
Saturday, January 30, 2010
tgif
hello all! i hope everyone is having a great weekend! it started off with an awesome friday.
this ship always fascinated me. i don't know if it's the real deal and if it can actually sail the open seas, but it is a restaurant/banquet space. i've always wanted to check it out and try it, but there's something questionable about their menus posted up like grubby ads on lamp posts and bus stops.
see the ice? i could hear it cracking and shifting.
john took me for indian food last night at little india. it was the perfect cure to frozen toes and hands! the tandoori chicken, chicken korma, eggplant bharta, pulao rice and of course the naan, were just so amazing. my tummy was really happy. (you should try it!)
we wanted something sweet so we walked over to cafe crepe. i had a nutella and banana crepe (surprised?)...a tad disappointed though that the crepes were all premade. i guess this is understandable since they get lots of customers? i made some crepes tonight with pancake batter, nutella and strawberries and i must say that freshly made crepes are much better and cheaper - it beats the $14 bill!
from cafe crepe, we started walking eastward with the intention of taking the train to meet up with my siblings. but upon seeing nathan phillips square with its twinkling lights and hearing the upbeat music, we concluded that it would be a shame to miss out on skating! and so skating we did.
it was a lovely night, albeit a cold one.
winter's finally beset us. dress warmly all :)
27/365: get rebel.
taken with the iphone.
walking down queen street with john, i saw this and really liked the font.
26/365: refilling the atomizer
this took forever to do. i was so afraid i was going to break the bottle so i had to carefully spritz the perfume into the atomizer. it took around 30 pumps to get it full.
miss dior cherie is the only perfume i can wear because it doesn't make me dizzy. for years i had gone au naturel, relying on freshly washed hair and laundered clothes. but there was always something so nice about those girls who pass by you and just smell so sweet! thus my search for perfume-that-does-not-give-me-a-headache began. we were united last year and have been using only her ever since.
i would love to know your favorite perfume to wear!
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