Bon Voyage South Granville

A GHOST TOWN IN THE MAKING
With each block from 4th - 16th boasting multiple For Lease signs  - South Granville is threatening to go the way of Toonerville Missouri. 

 SG FOR LEASE

SG FOR LEASE

Blobs vs. Heels

As with Crocs, (gagging*) Tevas and the like serve a purpose. That purpose is to be hidden in nature and used on slippery rocky terrain. I maintain that these visually loathsome footwear choices are unnecessary in urban settings. Case in point - last weekend: Walking uphill, I overtook two women (roughly my age) wearing generic rubbery tready blobby things on their feet while I was wearing heels and a pacemaker. And there you have it.

The Defence rests.

 Not Tevas.

Not Tevas.

Allergy Watch 2013

I've already had a cacophony of sneezes and snots this year. What the hell? How does that entitle me to receive more? Fury! So in the spirit of my current misery I recall a fonder(?) time: A time where I also had debilitating allergies. Picture it: London 2005. The season was Spring, and the theme was crankiness. Please enjoy the following excerpt from one of my highly popular publications, distributed at the time. left: London Plane "fruit" (spare me) - right: Cottonwood fluff, more innocent looking, almost as lethal.

It’s come to my attention that there must be a cache of mail for me somewhere in the incompetent depths of the Royal Mail Headquarters.  Seriously, there’s a room full to the brim with letters from friends and family addressed to Zenija Esmits Great Guildford St London SE1 0ES. And all the Royal Mail employees (read: thieving bastards) frolic in it like it’s a ball-room at chuck-e-cheese.

 I was talking to Clare this afternoon and conversation led to the postal service, and figured that she has sent waaaaaay more than the single postcard I’ve received from her. Now, I’m thrilled with the postcard, but I’m pretty T’oed that there are bits of mail not reaching me. I love mail. So I intend to launch a campaign against the Fucking Royal Mail (sorry, but I’m seriously pissed off) In fact, I think they should think about attaching that prefix to their title. It would help account for their continued ineptitude.

Not only does the Royal Mail seriously blow, but the post office seriously blows as well. The dregs of society frequent the place. I wonder sometimes if the wealthy and the: not strung out on smack ever send letters? Because looking at the ‘clientele’ in these places makes me think that I’m the only sober person who mails stuff.  The public businesses such as banks, post and government offices are the filthiest smears on society that I’ve ever had the displeasure to visit. They cater to the emotionally stunted that work there and the equally emotionally stunted that require their services.  I try not to touch the surfaces. Everything is encased in contaminated plexi and the tellers whether they be post or financial are all assholes. I do not generalize.

And while we’re lingering on the subject of things that tick me off, because god knows, the list is never-ending, here’s another one to add to the archive. It all happened one sunny day in May.

I don’t know what they are, and frankly I don’t care. There’s probably a botanical name for them. I highly doubt however that it’s as colorful as the one I’ve christened them with. Blinding Maple Shards. They’re the pesky little razor sharp pokey bits that form innocent looking puffballs that dangle off the Maple branches. Innocent that is, until the wind picks up and they explode into a cloud of airborne metal filings. It should be mandatory to harvest these things off the damn trees come late April. Or alternatively, chop the trees lining The Embankment down.

It was the most painful walk home EVER! Every nanosecond another fly-away razor sharp piece of fluff attacked my eyes mercilessly. I am soooo very bloodshot right now and my eyes sting like I rubbed them with fibreglass.

Just did some research… turns out what I thought was a particularly lethal maple is actually, the ‘London  Plane’ tree. Here’s what the botanists have to say about it. The crap that almost killed me is from the ‘flowers’ (deceptively innocent term) .The ‘flowers’ are dense spherical heads comprised of millions of prickles. They are wind pollinated. No shit. Now I can look forward to London Plane trees growing out of my eyes.

Tune in again for the continuation of Allergy Attack of 2005.

They Sneak Me Here, They Sneak Me There.

And like the Scarlet pimpernel, (the weed, not the play) sneakers are popping up everywhere and with varieties ranging from persistent to invasive. Whether functional or frivolous, sneakers are highly adaptable and there's indeed something for everyone. continue reading . . . . . 

Vancouver Fashion Week gives it the ol' college try . . . Again.

I've only ever been on the back end of Vancouver Fashion Week. Long story, short. I came away from VFW 2008 vowing NEVER to contribute, attend or support it in any way. But as many people have said before me – “never say never”! Cut to: Thursday the 14th of March 2013. Continue reading at Hello Vancity . . . . . 

 ~ One of the best looking things at VFW: The Four Seasons lobby. ~

~ One of the best looking things at VFW: The Four Seasons lobby. ~

this just in - spring

When a young girl's fancy turns to thoughts of Seven Brides For Seven Brothers. Spring Spring Spring! Every. SINGLE. Year. It's a tradition, and will forever remain a tradition. This March was no different. I was especially interested to note the recurrence of Pendleton Woollen Mills in This MGM classic. Filmed in 1954 and set in 1850 Oregon, the feature's creative team made an appropriate decision to feature Pendleton (if not, then very similar to Pendleton) blankets. Ignoring the fact that PWM began producing around 15 years later, I say hats off to authenticity! Just one more reason to love Pendleton.

 spring things

spring things

SEVEN REASONS WHY SEVEN BRIDES FOR SEVEN BROTHERS IS AWESOME

  1. Howard Keel
  2. Howard Keel's moustache
  3. Four words: Bless Your Beautiful Hide
  4. The Barn Raising
  5. Gingham
  6. Seven brothers "all as tall as church steeples."
  7. Russ (Gideon) Tamblyn's acrobatics.

Le Sigh, Le Groan, Le S.W.A.K

Cavities, drained bank accounts and oversized plush toys. What do these three things have in common? Correct. Valentine’s Day. With a mess of martyred saints, a spotty history and a current tradition culminating in gifts ranging from sickly colored candy hearts to thoughtless cards delivering messages of total pap, Valentine’s doesn't have a lot going for it – at least for anyone who’s got past fourth grade. continue reading . . . . 

Lack of Sense vs Fashion Sense

My first Hello Vancity post of the new year is up! Check out my "controversial" opinions about Van - "I couldn't be bothered" - couverThe only thing I dislike more than repetitive word overuse (think about using a different adjective than amazing folks) is Ugg boot overuse. There's a time and a place for sheepskin footwear. That time is not in the rain, and by default, that place is rarely going to be Vancouver. continue reading . . .

 Uggs + yoga pants = "I give up"

Uggs + yoga pants = "I give up"