August, my birthday month…there have been delicious dinners out (C, Cafeteria); presents (a viewfinder for my E-PL1, a few bits of clothes, a TRIP TO MONTREAL THIS WEEKEND); a writing job (first paid, as well as I can recall, although not first published); a mental write-off of a rather large account owed by a haphazard client, which disappoints me because when he emailed me out of the blue to do a rush job, I accommodated him to the best of my ability, and 90+ days to pay when I busted my ass to turn around in 48 hours is just unacceptable but I guess that’s the breaks of freelance whatnot; a little touch of flu today that basically chained me to the house but my headache is gone and I hope my temperature will return to normal soon; and the torrid temperatures seem to have moderated to bearable levels, although the rain is still holding off, which makes my lawn very sad indeed.

Here are some photos:

latest hair

Birthday Flowers

Birthday Cake

Birthday Spread

Oh and the birthday beverage, a picture of which I did not get, was called a “dbellini” and featured about an inch of peach juice in the bottom of a flute, with about two inches of chilled Lillet on top of that, finished with prosecco. It was pretty tasty

So my sub-head includes the words “easily distracted” and I wanted to share a roundabout example of the things I am so easily distracted by.

The Main Distractor and I went to brunch yesterday, a place close by as he is on call this weekend and liable to be called to the laptop for hours at a time, fixing mysterious things. It had recently come up, prompted by my looking at a map (DANGEROUS!) that if we had, you know, all the money we could want and all the free time that would magically materialize if we had all the money we could want, we’d like to go on holiday to somewhere in, say, the South Pacific or Indian Ocean or something, one of those palpably foreign kinds of places. There was an ad on the TV for some Julia Roberts movie that had a tie-in contest to go to Bali, and so I started exploring Bali destinations on my iPhone. This was all mode more tricky by the fact that I don’t care to go somewhere with chancy politics, likelihood of a coup, or that exploits its people like serfs. Complicated still more as my knowledge of the politics of this part of the world is sketchy at best :p (“Let’s go to Fiji!” “OK.” “Oh wait, their politics are terrible, we can’t go there.” “OK.” “Oh, let’s go to Tahiti! Gauguin! but you would fall in love with a beautiful woman and not care about me any more!” “They speak French there. I don’t speak the language.” “You could learn! I speak French!” “Let’s go to Hawaii. I speak English.” “Hawaii had a royal family who were treated terribly, I think.”) This all led to some semi-serious research in that while there are lots of $500/day hotels in Bali and environs, there are also some that are a little more accessible for the likes of us, although the airfare makes a trip to Europe look cheap.

One of the hotels I found had a pet elephant, and looking a little more, I found several hotels in Indonesia and in India that have either house elephants or proximity to nature reserve elephants or a sort of elephant show, which certainly startled me. I couldn’t and still can’t decide whether this is a good thing, I mean saving the poor loves from starving or being poached is clearly a good thing, but confinement and exploitation are somewhat in the eye of the beholder and potentially quite different from the POV of the elephants. So I’m not sure what to think, although I know I would be completely enchanted to meet an elephant. (There’s so much you can learn/when you’re on a pachyderm!)

Another bit of travel that we are unable to complete just now, but which I cross my fingers for a massive cash infusion more than usual just at the moment, is to go to London in early October in order to attend a William Gibson Board mass meat-up in celebration of the release of his newest, Zero History (available for pre-order now at the usual places! or go buy it September 7 at your local indie bookseller!). Friends met and unmet will be there, and I haven’t been to London in far too long. So I looked at London hotels, and came up with a good few that I would love to stay in. It’s always tricky with the budget-no-object places though, since while I have a certain tolerance for frou frou and baroque whatnot before my eyes start rolling, the Main Distractor’s uniform of choice–baggy shorts and a concert t-shirt–tends not to fit in snooty surroundings, and there’s a limit on how often I can ask him to wear long pants, basically. Not that my wardrobe is stylish enough for 5-star London hotels, either! but I would be willing to upgrade if the need became apparent

In any case, if the gods smile on us and we’re able to suddenly take off first class to LHR (between $5K and $15K per person, depending on airline and desirability of the itinerary), we have a choice of two suitable suites available on the desired dates (one at £6K or so for the week, and one at £11K or so). I will let him choose without showing him the prices (The thing is, they’re far from the most expensive digs available. The other thing is, that if the many zeroes in my bank balance all appeared to the right of a whole number, rather than to the left, I would be perfectly fine with spending practically a year’s salary for a week in London in order to catch up with friends but I’m crazy that way, I guess.)

And that’s how I end up knowing things like the fact that there are elephant hotels, and the Savoy won’t re-open from its 2.5 year renovation ordeal until just after we would want to stay there (I took my parents to tea at the Savoy a few years ago, and loved it), and the Dorchester will prepare you a Champagne picnic basket so you can dine al fresco, and Brown’s (where I have also had tea) is really terrifyingly expensive to stay at although proximity to Smythson’s makes it a seductive location nonetheless, and the really top shelf places don’t check you in at a front desk, but apparently whisk you directly to your room (to spare you the inconvenience/humiliation of queuing in public, perhaps?), and while I don’t mind the Paddington Express, I think it would be rather nice to ride into town in a fancy car from Heathrow sometime, as I’ve never done it.

Because one should always be prepared for any eventuality, however remote.

Cross your fingers it doesn’t all asplode.

Today at the mammography screening clinic at the cancer centre. It’s not as dire a place as it might be, but basically it’s a place of little eye contact and private thoughts.

The waiting room is crowded; a tech has called in sick and another has gone home sick and they are running behind. Every seat is full, and there are a few women standing. It’s a variety of Vancouver: different ages, ethnicities, and so on. The women go, one by one, into the several rooms for their date with a machine; they return to the waiting area while the film is processed so it can be assessed as being a good picture. Then they are either released, or asked to return for another image.

I go, am squished and positioned and told to hold my breath (I’m good at that; ask any of my ophthalmologists), and return to the waiting room. One woman puts hand lotion on. The woman next to her scolds, “Go wash that off!” she says; we are not supposed to have lotions or creams as they can interfere with the equipment somehow. Or perhaps just get the boob shelf all sticky, I don’t know.

Admonished, the lotion lady scuttles to the ladies’ room and washes her hands.

The scolder looks at me and says, “You’re not 40!”

I return her look. “I am. I’m more than 40. And if I were younger, it would mean that I had a history.”

Pause.

“Well. You don’t look 40.”

“Thanks.”

And I am released.

So the other night, I was riding Enzo down Main Street, after an unsuccessful hunt for espe handbags. Thought to myself, “Self, wasn’t the new Andrey Durbach/Chris Stewart restaurant supposed to open one of these days?”

Well, my self was correct, and being as there was an empty parking slot right out front of Cafeteria, I hopped off and popped in to say hello to some of my favourite people in the world. I had a chat, took a look around, saw that there was a spot prawn and salmon sashimi dish and Dungeness crab tortelloni on the menu, and called my Main Distractor to say “Let’s EAT!”

I did stop back home to change out of my scooter togs, but we were back, salivating, in an hour.

It’s called Cafeteria, and there are no tablecloths and no printed menus. The menu is instead on a felt board, easily adjusted to suit the whims of the chef, the market and the season. The “starter” small plates (including soup of the day, a Caesar salad, an asparagus and chorizo dish, and mushrooms á la façon du chef) are largely under $10 (the sashimi dish being a worthwhile exception—the Main Distractor just INHALED that baby), and the “mains” are under $20. Options included chicken schnitzel with spaetzle, pot-au-feu, the Dungeness crab tortelloni which just blew us away, red snapper and a duck breast “steak et frites” that looked like it came with polenta fries.

Wines come in at three price levels: $30, $40 and $50, with some available by the glass, and there is also a specials board for wine, ranging from $35 to $70 a bottle when we were there. There is also beer on tap (Red Racer) and Big Rock cider by the bottle (that’s a good BC alternative to Strongbow, by the way; nice and dry).

The space is clean and bright, with enough room between tables for my large posterior to easily enter and exit the banquette (ahem).

I did enjoy eating at Ping’s, but there’s no comparison. The menu is straightforward, concise, and oh, so Durbach. Not kawaii like Ping’s, but I have a limited tolerance for kawaii in relation to food in any event. Conversely, I appear to have an unlimited appetite for restaurants operated by Chris and Andrey. We’ve missed Parkside dreadfully this past year and l’Altro Buca as well.

Cafeteria is on Main at 11th Avenue; they don’t take reservations. They’ll be serving dinner daily from 5:00 pm. You may very well find me and the MD chowing down OH and I will probably have an espe handbag, since I ordered a couple online this morning and they’ve already shipped

This reads like promo material, doesn’t it?! but I just love it so, I can’t help it.

Pic taken by my Main Distractor.

Ilya!