Thursday, September 8, 2011

One night in Cabbagetown

We went to One night in Cabbagetown to explore the area and say goodbye to a visiting summer student. The event drew crowds to explore the local restaurants. Despite living in Toronto for ~4 years, I had never been to this part of town (most of my explorations are westwards).

We visited The Ben Wicks Restaurant & Pub (delicious sausage!), The House on Parliament (oysters!), Merryberry Café (sangria and meatballs), and Cranberries (plate of wings, which inevitably slipped onto my lap). After walking around and sampling these appetizers, we ate dinner at Margarita's Mexican Fiesta (tasty, filling, and accompanied by giant margaritas).

It was fun. It was a cute event. It was an interesting thing to do with office acquaintances. I'd go back to Merryberry Café again -- we only left quickly because of the small space and the hordes of other One night in Cabbagetown pedestrians waiting to enter.

This post's theme word is ophelimity, "the capacity to satisfy a need, desire, or want." The oyster's olphelimity lies mostly in the realm of the squeamish.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Apartment dream

I dreamed last night that C. and I were two personalities in the same body, Tyler Durden-style, alternately waking while the other slept.

In another part of the dream, E. was renting a new apartment in [the place E. lives] for us to live in together. I gave A. my keys and moved out without packing up any of my plates or bowls or tools from the kitchen. My new apartment was on the second floor of a 3-story house; the landlord lived on the first and third floors. Typical dream logic.

I arrived and looked for my room. E. and K. were sleeping in the two big bedrooms. In an auxiliary room was M. (also sleeping), and then there was the kitchen. I was lost for where to put myself. The apartment had stairways -- it was just the second floor of a house, recall -- but we the tenants were supposed to just ignore the open stairways that led to the first and third floors. And the landlord had build like a stair/ladder to skip over the second floor in this epic stairwell. That we were just supposed to ignore, as if it were a wall and not a huge open stairwell leading into someone else's life.

I have no explanation or context for this dream. Whatever.


This post's theme word is corniche, "a coastal road, especially one cut into the side of a cliff." The stairwell was a surreal corniche of plywood and wrought iron.