where my love lies waiting silently for me
I'm back, but here are some more thoughts I wrote down while away:
It doesn't quite get dark here.
Man that relish was green.
The poutine was...good. This was not too surprising; as a dude who has been known to dip his fries in au jus and to order them animal style, I am no stranger to the commission of delicious atrocities against god and tuber. It did look gross, although not as gross as it ought to have, as the cheese was shredded (I might have to try again tomorrow).
The "All Dressed" or "Suicide" (or "White Gummi"?) potato chips were also damn good, in an "I see you everywhere with infinite form, with many arms, stomachs, faces, and eyes" sort of way.
The food service people all seem to have serious OCD. I have watched so many of them assemble my food very gingerly, trim each lettuce leaf so it exactly fits the bread, and so forth
Steve Miller, not only did you rhyme "love" with "love," but I do not see any sort of entailment relation between being called Maurice and speaking with the pompitous of love.
A nice thing about driving: there are signs to let you know what crossstreet you're coming up on in advance
The traffic lights have a tiny delay, though. I bet it prevents accidents, but I always wind up stepping into the crosswalk a second before the light turns green.
I think my car is smarter than me.
Last time I rented a car they gave me a Pontiac Sunfire; I assumed this is what I had this time until I actually looked at the name on the back, and it turns out to be a Pontiac Pursuit. I figure this is because Canadians would prefer that their cars chase things rather than envelop them in plasma. I can respect that.
I have seen more mechanical ("chunk-chunk", with the carbon paper) credit card readers in the last week than in the fifteen years prior.
My hotel was on Tomken Street, which made me say "aw peas" every dang time I saw it.
It wasn't until Day 4 that I figured out how to turn my windshield wipers off. Scary thing was I had only wanted to twice until then.
I went to Tim Hortons for a cup of coffee and a donut, but they didn't have maple donuts, so I got one from the other Tim Hortons around the corner. With that, I ended my tour of Canada's consumer culture. Their slogan is "Always Fresh" or "Toujours Frais," which makes me think of Mehitabel.
Hey, "Medi-Cal" is spelled just like "medical," only with a hyphen.
Speaking of obvious things you didn't realize simply because they never really came up in your brain, HEY I bet the A in "Chick-fil-A" is long, as in "fillet," as opposed to..."fil-uh," which is not actually a word. (See how cosmopolitan I am now? (There was a Chick-fil-A in the Philadelphia airport. It tasted okay. But thanks you guys for not mentioning their disturbing religious connections.))
And, in turn, speaking of cosmopolitan, this dude is annoying to read. His prose is smug and cartoonishly overwrought, and combines the highfalutin and quasi-colloquial in a way that calls to mind Cornelius Bear attempting to get jiggy wit it. It reminds me of me.
On Monday I went in the CN tower, but not up it. I am afraid of heights, also there was a really long line and they wanted $20. So instead I stood at the base and looked up, and imagined the view to be a lot like that, only in reverse. I mean, heck, I'd be in an airplane in a couple hours, I could wait until then to look down.
Then I wandered around the Harbourfront a little and took in some sights. There was a park, some little gardeny things, a few Inuit art galleries. There is this amazing sculpture thing they do with musk ox horns; here is a picture that totally fails to capture the effect.
Oh, did I mention the conference? The conference was really really good.
It doesn't quite get dark here.
Man that relish was green.
The poutine was...good. This was not too surprising; as a dude who has been known to dip his fries in au jus and to order them animal style, I am no stranger to the commission of delicious atrocities against god and tuber. It did look gross, although not as gross as it ought to have, as the cheese was shredded (I might have to try again tomorrow).
The "All Dressed" or "Suicide" (or "White Gummi"?) potato chips were also damn good, in an "I see you everywhere with infinite form, with many arms, stomachs, faces, and eyes" sort of way.
The food service people all seem to have serious OCD. I have watched so many of them assemble my food very gingerly, trim each lettuce leaf so it exactly fits the bread, and so forth
Steve Miller, not only did you rhyme "love" with "love," but I do not see any sort of entailment relation between being called Maurice and speaking with the pompitous of love.
A nice thing about driving: there are signs to let you know what crossstreet you're coming up on in advance
The traffic lights have a tiny delay, though. I bet it prevents accidents, but I always wind up stepping into the crosswalk a second before the light turns green.
I think my car is smarter than me.
Last time I rented a car they gave me a Pontiac Sunfire; I assumed this is what I had this time until I actually looked at the name on the back, and it turns out to be a Pontiac Pursuit. I figure this is because Canadians would prefer that their cars chase things rather than envelop them in plasma. I can respect that.
I have seen more mechanical ("chunk-chunk", with the carbon paper) credit card readers in the last week than in the fifteen years prior.
My hotel was on Tomken Street, which made me say "aw peas" every dang time I saw it.
It wasn't until Day 4 that I figured out how to turn my windshield wipers off. Scary thing was I had only wanted to twice until then.
I went to Tim Hortons for a cup of coffee and a donut, but they didn't have maple donuts, so I got one from the other Tim Hortons around the corner. With that, I ended my tour of Canada's consumer culture. Their slogan is "Always Fresh" or "Toujours Frais," which makes me think of Mehitabel.
Hey, "Medi-Cal" is spelled just like "medical," only with a hyphen.
Speaking of obvious things you didn't realize simply because they never really came up in your brain, HEY I bet the A in "Chick-fil-A" is long, as in "fillet," as opposed to..."fil-uh," which is not actually a word. (See how cosmopolitan I am now? (There was a Chick-fil-A in the Philadelphia airport. It tasted okay. But thanks you guys for not mentioning their disturbing religious connections.))
And, in turn, speaking of cosmopolitan, this dude is annoying to read. His prose is smug and cartoonishly overwrought, and combines the highfalutin and quasi-colloquial in a way that calls to mind Cornelius Bear attempting to get jiggy wit it. It reminds me of me.
On Monday I went in the CN tower, but not up it. I am afraid of heights, also there was a really long line and they wanted $20. So instead I stood at the base and looked up, and imagined the view to be a lot like that, only in reverse. I mean, heck, I'd be in an airplane in a couple hours, I could wait until then to look down.
Then I wandered around the Harbourfront a little and took in some sights. There was a park, some little gardeny things, a few Inuit art galleries. There is this amazing sculpture thing they do with musk ox horns; here is a picture that totally fails to capture the effect.
Oh, did I mention the conference? The conference was really really good.
posted by Evan at 11:37 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home