holy calamity (bear witness).

There are very few things I have in combination with bears; we both eat a fairly varied diet consisting of both plants & animals, we both have short, stocky legs, our courtship period is usually quite brief and there's always the shaggy hair. As of yesterday, I've got something new in common with Jellystone Park's finest. After Toronto's first (and hopefully only) big blizzard of the year on Friday, I have decided to hibernate until spring thaw. Thankfully, my gentleman-friend feels the same way.

Last night, we watched a marathon of 'House Party' on the Comedy Network- just enough Winnipeg to last me until I touch down in my hometown on Friday. Tonight, a late night at work didn't leave me enough energy to attend the Hannukah party I half planned on making the trek out to Thornhill for (an area more populous with Jews than Tuxedo- even their Sobey's is kosher), so I watched Law & Order in an oversized, overworn Notorious BIG tee instead and with it being midnight now, I hope to be asleep before 12:30.




Nothing could rouse me from my ambient state, except my new favourite breakfast spot west of the Nook: Saving Grace. I considered calling in brunch instead of calling in sick so I wouldn't have to rush my dark roast or his french toast with caramelized bananas this morning, but I could just imagine it.

"Sorry, boss! I've got to call in brunch. I'm afraid everyone in the neighborhood has it." You know, kind of like syphillus. Or an ironic moustache.

Photo credit to my friend Ren. You think he's checking his iPhone for text messages, but really he's taking pictures of strangers enjoying a morning-to-mid-afternoon of avocado, tomato, bacon & arugula on whole wheat while looking lazily into the eyes of their sweetheart from across the formica.

i see the lights of a city.

Coming home to Winnipeg is bitter sweet for me. After leaving my mark on most of Queen West this past week, I finally touched ground back in this sleepy, somber city on Saturday night.

For those of you who Facebook or my mother hasn't told, I'm moving to Toronto in two weeks time to take the Culinary Management 2-year diploma program at George Brown College. No summer vacation for me, folks. I'm in it for the long haul.

Moving away, it will be refreshing to leave the house without seeing a parade of my ex-boyfriends (and men I used to regularly swap spit with) or a band that is fronted by Greg Lowe.

But I have to be honest. There are some things I really love about this city and that I really will miss. Most importantly, I have recently found out that drinking king cans in the alley is not something they do anywhere but Winnipeg (how on earth has this trend not spread?). Drinking king cans in the alley in the hot, humid summer here seems like more of a hobby here than an action. It's what you do between acts at the pyramid to save money (Half the price for twice the beer? Heck yes.). More often than not this summer, it turned out to be what you did INSTEAD of acts at the pyramid.

I can handle only so much hipster pseudo-electronica.

You only have $3 to your name? You can skip the niceties of sipping soda on the Cousin's patio and take your favourite gal to the nearest back alley for a cold one. Obviously, that's where you come in, Brianna. You can keep the $0.15 change.

Over a pitcher of Halifax's finest with a new friend at a really tragic bar down the street from Lee's Palace, our meeting spot, I found myself feeling pangs of sadness when I detailed this Winnipeg pastime. What will I do when I live in Toronto? Plan that I'm going to want 950mL of shitty beer at 2:30 in the morning? Keep my fridge stocked? What will my landlord think?

Drinking a king can in the alley with a cute boy you just met gives you 23 extra minutes to judge whether or not you're going to grace him with your presence again (or in some cases, let him take you home). Alternately, if he doesn't know what you mean by 'grabbing a king can', he obviously has a screw loose. Or he hasn't lived in Winnipeg long.

I have so many questions. Since king cans aren't an option, will my neighborhood LCBO stock the 1.18L bottles of Molson Dry? Will some 'cool' Torontonian pass on the number of the illusive illegal dial-a-bottle? I give myself 'til mid-November to figure it out or I'll have to break down and ask my parents to ship a box of them with the rest of my furniture. "Careful with that box! That one is full of king cans!"

I will miss the Woodbine Hotel. I will miss pitchers of Two Rivers on the Cousin's patio. I will especially miss hangover breakfast at the Nook. Fortunately for me, Toronto seems to be the city that everyone passes through on their way to somewhere better. Me? I think I'll be sticking around for awhile.

To my friends in Toronto, old and new, I hope you'll stop by my new place in the next month for a bottle of wine.. or two. This girl can drink. Photo credit goes to whoever the genius behind www.winnipeglovehate.com is. Kudos, my friend.