if you know me, you'll know that i usually don't bother myself with the personal lives of celebrities past, present or future. i don't know them, so basically, i don't care. that's still the case, although this next bit may seem misleading.

[plucked from a friend's LJ, which was referencing an article seen on IMDb]

Newlywed Sweetin To Be a Mom

Former child star Jodie Sweetin is expecting her first child just weeks after marrying new husband Cody Herpin in Las Vegas. The wild former Full House star wed movie set designer Herpin on July 14 weeks after meeting him for the first time. And now the 25-year-old former crystal methamphetamine addict is getting ready to be a mom.

i really enjoyed how the article was informative and kind. until the last sentence. oh my.

anyway, to finish the recap of last weekend.. saturday was a VFest afterparty / show at bovine, with a friend's band songs from a room, and toronto french indie the denumonts. it was a good show and a bit of a change of pace from the regular bovine crowd. only complaint is that i don't like the renovations that were made to the back room. it used to be all dark and dingy, po-mo art instalments everywhere and a motorcycle in the middle of the floor serving as an island/high-bar table. the seats that lined the walls were about 4 feet further off the floor than they are now, and the walls were either painted black or were covered with so much stuff that you couldn't see the original paint.
now, they've lowered the seats, brightened the place up a bit, got rid of the pinball machine in the back corner and motorcycle in the middle of the room(!). it just seems like you're stepping into a different bar when you go in there, and not really in a good way.

on the docket this weekend?
more from songs from a room, jetplanes of abraham (who have a delicious website, in my humble opinion, sweet thing, buck 65 and skratch bastid at the TIFF afterparty at drake underground on friday.
eric's trip, rick white, julie doiron, moonsocket at lee's on saturday.

i just walked down the hall behind a lady that smelled like flintstones' vitamins. all of a sudden cold, dark winter mornings of my childhood flooded my memory. begrudgingly getting myself out of bed and trudging down over the stairs with the 90 degree turn after a few steps, blanket wrapped around me tight, rubbing sleep from my eyes and wondering what to have for breakfast and which color/character vitamin to have today. my sister and my mom were always up before me. except on christmas and weekend mornings. not even the sun beat me those days, for the most part.

this past weekend was fairly eventful. friday after work, after finding out that the show we (my roomate/good friend and i) would be attending started at 5 as opposed to 8ish like i had figured, i rushed my way home and got changed and made my way back downtown. i was reluctant, to say the least, to go see a stars show in semi-formal wear.
so, i arrived at the show, which was free - put on by U of T, and met up with the roomie and some new-to-me folks - a couple of gals and a guy from australia on a traveling vacation. meeting people at or during a concert can always be a bit awkward, as everyone is trying to pay attention to the band, but at the same time try to seem like they're not being arrogant and ignoring the new folks. it's also especially awkward when there are five of you, two of which are possibly a fledgling couple (nothing concrete, just for the sake of the record), and the other two seem like they are (although you later find out they are not, forcing some of the awkwardness to fade, taken over quickly by the fact that you miss your absent girlfriend).

the show was great. the band has a new guitarist, and it didn't come anywhere near the time i saw them at the marquee in halifax, but it was still quite enjoyable. they played all the old favorites, and some not-so-well-known greats, and amy millan's voice was as heavenly as ever.

post-concert dinner and a drink at sneaky dee's were satisfying, if not gluttonous. i hadn't eaten much all day, which would normally make a welcome stomach, but i think mine had taken its belt in a notch or two, making my el-gringo sandwich nearly impossible to finish. daquiris for the ladies, beers for the gentlemen, and faux-mexican food all around. good times.

on to the high-ceilinged (i like lofts and anything of the sort) apartment of one of the gals for post-dinner relaxation, conversation and less-and-less-awkward silences. our aussie friend decided to take his leave earlier rather than later, and was on his way. conversations of music and work and life in general ensued amongst the four of us that remained (don't forget discussing whether or not the high, noisy ceiling fan would work its way out of its holding and hurl itself toward us in a propeller-like fashion, chopping us to bits).

more music, some yawning, and a dire need for fresh air and a bit of solitude later, i excused myself and made my leave. my roomie took this as a cue and decided to walk his possible sweetie home, and i skated off for bathurst station.

and that was only friday.

more on saturday later.

so i've been trying to find the time for a while now to write a post about this new book i'm reading. it's by Anthony Bourdain, and it's called The Nasty Bits.
it's proving to be a great read. the book takes a departure from the full-steam-ahead, drug-addled, testosterone-rich descriptions of his coming up in the culinary industry as told in his previous book, Kitchen Confidential, and, as the book is a collection, gives a very seasoned (pun fully intended) insight into the state of many aspects of the business..what's wrong, what's right and, most importantly, good food.
Bourdain is a particularly sardonic, dry writer, which i like. and he's become successful as a writer for a reason, i think. he manages to be a so-called celebrity chef without succumbing to the arrogance that has wasted so many of his breed. plus, as learned in his first book (more memoir than world tour, as the nasty bits is, somewhat correspondent to his cook's tour series), the guy has paid his dues. he's worked in shitty kitchens and got yelled at, belittled, and run ragged by the best of them.
i'm just over halfway through the book (which is divided into volumes, two of which form a dichotomy commonly found in Asian cooking, 10 points to whoever can guess them) and i absolutely love it so far. it's one of those books that i just wouldn't put down if i didn't have so much to do. i tore through Kitchen Confidential, and even reading it almost solely in transit, i'm doing the same with this.

and now, after revisiting this post many times for edits and updates, i go back to work.

p.s. i think i'm addicted to fruit smoothies. yogen fruz makes a crazy good one with strawberries, blackberries, blueberries (maybe raspberries too), cranberry juice and pear sorbet (hooray for non-dairy!). i also had an amazing one at a little Thai restaurant in the bloor / gladstone area the other day with my friend mike. wish i had gotten the name of that place.