Wednesday, May 05, 2010

happy cinco de mayo, peoples!

guys, our bodies are WACK. i think i'm in the second trimester now and it's like instant good times. it changes on a dime - all of a sudden i'm back to staying up to midnight and being all fine and dandies. it's been like this since saturday night. i'm excited for my increased productivity.

last night i came home and made empanadas, filled with pork loin, sautéed onions, peppers, smoked paprika, and green olives and tomatoes. they were SUPPOSED to have eggs in them but SOMEONE never checks their text messages and didn't pick any up from the mennonites - they were pretty good but i cheaped out and didn't put wine in the dough (i didn't want to open a bottle of wine to just use it for the dough), i also mixed in some whole wheat flour (which the dotytron wouldn't let me live down), which also changed the texture a bit:

i did some creeping in and met the new neighbours renting the house next door. i also found out that the house is native subsidized housing. whoops. i guess we should have asked that! ah well - the new people moving in seemed nice - the kids were well dressed and seemed polite and she drove a mini-van. she also seemed concerned about the welfare of her children, which was reassuring. lol! we were feeling a little weirded out finding out we bought a house right next to subsidized housing - i figure we could've paid even LESS for lil' ugmo - but then we talked about it and ultimately, we bought in a gentrifying neighbourhood - what else can you do? you live in a city with mixed incomes - that's the nature of toronto - unless we suddenly become millionaires and move to riverdale, and even at that, i know a lady who bought on riverdale but lives next to a government housing complex where someone got shot this past year.

there's no telling what's happening in the house next door, really. it could NOT be subsidized housing and the person could do all kinds of crazy shiz to their place. and it's not just our problem, it's the whole street's problem. there's mad street gossip going on about the corner house on the street - apparently it's also subsidized housing and the people in there are flat-out drunks. like, your friends break into your house while you're passed out from boozing and steal your laptop drunk. also, one of the neighbs (who's kind of WT herself) found the 2 year old daughter of the renter standing in the street in a dirty diaper with no one watching her, brought her inside only to find everyone wasted and passed out and called the cops on their butts and they might have gotten their kids taken away - which is super-sad and problematic (CAS as an institution is kind of dodgy from what i hear) but at the same time, i'd call the cops on my own butt if i did that, so fair's fair.

if things get rugged with neighbs, i figure you just get all "burbs" on their butts. i have no problems calling the cops/by-law officers for any number of minor infractions and harassing people out of town. lol! the good thing about a house in toronto is that no matter what - in a neighbourhood like leslieville which is rapidly gentrifying, we'll be able to sell and sell well. so if it gets unbearable (and something tells me we have a really high tolerance for stuff that would bug random uptight peeps), we can always sell, make a fortune, and move to kdubs or like, oakville. lol!

last night we saw the documentary "david wants to fly" which is about this giant german nerdlinger dorkus who chooses to dress like a rejected extra from the film "newsies" (seriously, why are german people all giant dorks?!?) who is obsessed with david lynch and is trying to get his nascent film career off the ground. struggling in his personal life with his relationship with his fellow german (and equally dorky - hey europe, wearing stupid hats and looking like you just discovered the wacky stylings of mayim bialik circa her "blossom" heyday isn't doing your world profile any favours) girlfriend, and knowing that david lynch is a vocal proponent of transcendental meditation, he decides to find out what TM is all about and how he can incorporate it into his own life to become as successful as david lynch.

the doc was an epic fail on many counts.

a) the filmmaker protagonist was a GIANT dork. like, of the non-endearing, non-charming ilk. just a total, off-putting dork in the nerd-cousin you're embarrassed to be related to, kind of way. gratuitous shots of him and his gf (they have an off-on relationship) making out and mugging for the camera and talking about how much they love each other was sickitating.

b) the filmmaker was a total n00b filmmaker. no wonder you're not as successful as david lynch. YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO MAKE MOVIES. lol! the editing was SO invasive that some of the ham-fisted "jokes" (which i couldn't believe the audience laughed at) were as patently contrived as the reaction shots in "the office" but used with sincerity, instead of all meta, the way those faux-doc shows do it. no finesse to the filmmaking at all

c) i felt that the filmmaker was being total captain obvious about the whole enterprise. being all shockface that TM is a charlatan's game is ridiculous and a very facile argument and not "investigative journalism" as he claims. ooh, people give them money! oooh, no one knows where the money goes! i felt like he kind of created a straw man that he could then take apart with really blunt, stupid, a-critical instruments (this is what happens when you totally fund all post-secondary education in your country and everyone can get a phd - the calibre goes WAY down.) it's like dissing scientology in this day and age. or organized religion in general. quelle surprise, batman.

after the film, the dotytron was all like, "i kind of can't believe that someone as critical as david lynch would become such a vocal proponent of a movement that doesn't stand up to ANY criticism" and i was like, what about lynch's movies makes you think that he's critical? his films are STRANGE, and thought-provoking, and plumb the depths of the psyche and the subconscious and play with themes surrounding the perversion of the american dream - but there's nothing critical about them, per se.

in the words of men on films: "hated it!"



we both felt the same way.

tonight the plan is to eat a quick dinner (moroccan potato, egg, pepper and harissa sandwiches) and then head out to ronceys to see the dotytron's friend play some straight-ahead jazz.

we'll see whether we're up for it. if we do - that'll make 4 late nights in a row (we've got late dodgeball and then team beers tomorrow, friday night we're going to old skool hip hop night)!!!!!

fin.

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