Saturday, October 07, 2006

Restaurants, Comedy and Long Weekends

A smidge of history: I have worked in around and through restaurants, catering and food/booze for a looong time. Even when I didn't work for restaurants, I was involved consulting or just being an opinionated bitch. I am one of those people who evaluate restaurants in a sweeping glance. Food, service and bar had better be what the decor suggests it to be, or I get, shall we say, disappointed? That said, I love eating out; the culture, the entire experience of being taken care of and fed is one that I will never grow tired of. There are few restaurants that take this as seriously as I would hope. But those that do, get my money. Frequently.

The biggest loot vaccuum is most certainly Chambar. I cannot gush words of love enough to describe how this restaurant leads the Vancouver restaurant scene, on every level. I walk in and feel like a million - and they give me a million, one at a time. The staff, the food (sweet lord help me now, the venison) and the drinks are simply on. I have never ever EVER had a negative experience there, and I have been there a lot. Like three-times-a-week-at-one-point-a-lot. And everytime I recommend it, the people come back with thanks and glowing reviews.

Another is Le Gavroche. It's French, it's swish and old school in all the right places. Go there. Eat and dig into that wine cellar.

People frequently will say, "Yeah, but isn't it expensive?" Yup. You get what you pay for. If you buy a cheap car, you get a shitassed car. Buy cheap food where they chase cheap labour and shortcuts at every turn, that's what your food will taste like. And it's how it will be served to you. Parsley and orange slice for garnish. Cold, wet plate. Glasses from your grandma's house. Velvet paint-by-numbers paintings of Mexican cowboys on the wall, accented by plastic flowers and those eerie barbie doll/knitted toliet paper covers that someone bought at a church rummage sale. And they'll likely be playing country. New country, too. Ick.


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Dane Cook. Where did this guy some from? I've seen "Waiting". I though he was some bit actor that had a funny streak. Holy shit this guy is HUGE, like huge overnight huge. And no kidding he's huge, he's hilarious. Check him out on myspace or at danecook.com. Worth the trip. He does the best "girl" I've seen. Nails us to the wall. "Vicious Circle", his HBO special, is out there on the interweb. Filmed live in front of 18,000 people. Nuts.



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I'm on my third giant cup of coffee. I slept in until 1 pm. I am relaxed and have no intentions of moving out of my apartment until after 10 p.m. Sweet ass. Happy Thanksgiving.
Out.
C

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Happy Birthday and Goodbye



Cleopatra Jones is dead. OK, well, actually Cleo will live forever, but Tamara Dobson died today at the age of 59. (http://people.aol.com/people/article/0,26334,1542781,00.html)

Alexander Keith would have been 211 years old today. Another reason to drink beer all night. Whoo.


We had our office Thanksgiving lunch today. Wine in the middle of the day, while relaxing, makes for a complete waste of an afternoon. I've felt drowsy and mellow and unfocused. Not a bad lunch though. Got to sit next to a cute guy. Whoo.

I'm off to the pub. I'm wearing loud beads in memoriam of Cleo.
C

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

End of the Day

You know when you're so tired and drained from a day at work that the drive home seems like the worst possible thing ever? And then you think about the stairs, the neighbour wanting to chat, the key in the too-heavy door, the messy apartment that you want to have cleaned but don't have the energy to call the cleaning chick and even if you did she's likely out being young and energetic and running about gathering roses while she may, then the fridge door, the emptimess of the fridge, the hum of the freezer, mocking you endlessly that you should have bought groceries when you had more energy, the thought process of whether or not you should even eat, cuz what is there to eat anyway and you'll be damned if you go OUT to eat, but you're hungry so you eat a box of Wheat Thins and pass out on the couch, so you figure what the hell, might as well stay at work and avoid all of that.

That's how tired I am.

Pretending to Work


It's a funny thing to be typing away, fooling the universe into believing that I'm a productive employee. So let's see... first real post, what to say? I guess a wee intro is appropriate.

I'm a 34 year old Marketing Manager and Production Coordinator for a 60 unit restaurant chain in Western (soon to be Eastern, too) Canada. I am divorced, no kids, no pets. I have managed to keep two house plants alive. That's the extent of my commitment level right now.

Work is a big deal. This job is the big push -- the challenge that will define my career for the rest of my life. It's a humbling experience to look at what you do to make money and know that it's such a huge rudder in guiding the bulk of your life. The people I meet, where I go to eat, travel, house and home, the car I drive, what I do with my free time, even how I feel about politics and world events are touched by if not directly forced by work. I guess some may say that's a bad thing.

Relationships wise things are slow. I few years ago I was serial dating. Had some fun, had some heartache. Now I'm just too damned busy. I never thought I'd be too busy for sex, but I am. I'm getting old. Shit. Recently broke up with a boyfriend. Just not on the same wavelength. Oh well. Another one bites the dust. Sometimes I think I should have married the guy I dated in college.

Then I wake up.

(Oh lordy lord, I'd have four kids, be fat-assed and living in Utah. There's a visual.)

I'm still peripherally involved with the music industry. I sit on an advisory board for a music school, representing the retail end of things. Music is still a passion of mine. Nothing will ever replace it. I was listening to an old old tape of the choir I was in during my one big year of college. Brought back a lot of memories. What I would give to go on Choir Tour again. Ha. I think if I went back to visit myself when I was in college I would have some very risque advice to give myself. Mostly about one night with a basketball player. Dayum.

I digress. (It's my blog, so I guess I can't really digress, can I?)

Okokokokokokok, the boss is getting suspicious.
Later, yo.

what have I done?


oh dear dear dear me. this cannot be a good thing.

stay tuned. debauchery, violent opinions and other horrifyingly tedious errata of my life soon to come.

oxx
C