After finishing Season Two of True Blood, I went back to my DVDs of Daria: The Complete Series. I am on the one where Daria meets Val, the magazine editor. The episode is poking fun at Jane Pratt, founder of the long lost Gen X magazines Sassy and Jane. Now, Jane sorta lost me before leaving Jane, if you follow that. Actually, the entire magazine industry, save Vanity Fair, lost me around then. But as I loved her once, I wondered what Jane is doing now, so I hit Pause and Googled. She is on Sirius Radio. But what's this?
http://www.janepratt.com/
She is launching a web site of some sort. Cool. 'Cause I don't do talk radio.
Then I thought about a couple of other names from the old Sassy days. It seems Christina Kelly launched a blog about five minutes ago. And Karen Catchpole has a web site chronicling her chuck-it-all-five-year-roadtrip.
Just in case you were interested. Now I'm going back to Daria.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
True Blood: Season 2
What makes True Blood so fan-freakin-tastic is not the main characters. I find Sookie Stackhouse immature to insipid and Bill Compton rather tragically clueless for a vampire his age. The first season of this show, I was trying to decide if I bought in to the supernatural world as author Charlaine Harris wrote it. Obviously, I bought enough. I bought the Second Season on DVD, anyway.
The supporting characters make True Blood rock, and the HBO series has done a better job (through two seasons and the two books I have read) of fleshing them out. In fact, I would say that the ways that the series departs from the books is all about those characters - keeping around the ones that are worth the investment.
The fangirls are all in love with Eric the Sheriff, and I get it. He'd make me swoon too, except that I find his attraction to Sookie...unattractive. Sam Merlotte would be rather more my type. He is a hero-hero as opposed to an anti-hero. Although tragically, has a thing for Sookie also. And OMG, LaFayette. Thankfully he is gay, so that we don't have to deal with him going all googly at her.
The character that grew on me the most is Jason. In Season 1, he was dumb and nasty and...dumb. In Season 2 he is still dumb, but attempting to evolve. And he's really funny. One of the chucklier moments was when Reverend Schmuckus was on TV after the suicide bomb - with the paintball bruise on his forehead.
The most disappointing character was Sophie-Anne, the Queen of Louisiana. I am hoping that Season 3 makes her more three-dimensional. I have spent enough time in vampire fiction and gaming to know that the most powerful people look lame at first glance - because they prefer to be underestimated. I expect that True Blood knows that, too.
Also requiring more dimensions is the Lorena character. She seems to be set up as jealous Villain of the Future, but I really hope that they make her a compelling evil, because right now she is a pathetic evil who should just die, already.
A more pleasant surprise was the progeny storyline. Sookie actually made a decent observation in saying that a fledgling vampire as Bill described it - unpredictable, emotional, no impulse control - was really not all that different from the horrors of being a teenage girl. Sookie just forgot that Jessica has super-strength, super-speed and fangs such that there was no way under God that Sookie would be able to control her when it hit the fan.
Idiot.
However. While Jessica's dialogue is painful in a teenage girl sort of way, it is no more painful than Sookie and Bill's. And I am hopeful that watching her grow up with such a blatant lack of guidance from her foolish, self-absorbed sire will be interesting.
Hm. I seem to feel strongly about that.
In the final analysis, True Blood is still more..graphic than I really appreciate, but it is doing some really good storytelling. I'm just ticked because now I have to go read the third book.
The supporting characters make True Blood rock, and the HBO series has done a better job (through two seasons and the two books I have read) of fleshing them out. In fact, I would say that the ways that the series departs from the books is all about those characters - keeping around the ones that are worth the investment.
The fangirls are all in love with Eric the Sheriff, and I get it. He'd make me swoon too, except that I find his attraction to Sookie...unattractive. Sam Merlotte would be rather more my type. He is a hero-hero as opposed to an anti-hero. Although tragically, has a thing for Sookie also. And OMG, LaFayette. Thankfully he is gay, so that we don't have to deal with him going all googly at her.
The character that grew on me the most is Jason. In Season 1, he was dumb and nasty and...dumb. In Season 2 he is still dumb, but attempting to evolve. And he's really funny. One of the chucklier moments was when Reverend Schmuckus was on TV after the suicide bomb - with the paintball bruise on his forehead.
The most disappointing character was Sophie-Anne, the Queen of Louisiana. I am hoping that Season 3 makes her more three-dimensional. I have spent enough time in vampire fiction and gaming to know that the most powerful people look lame at first glance - because they prefer to be underestimated. I expect that True Blood knows that, too.
Also requiring more dimensions is the Lorena character. She seems to be set up as jealous Villain of the Future, but I really hope that they make her a compelling evil, because right now she is a pathetic evil who should just die, already.
A more pleasant surprise was the progeny storyline. Sookie actually made a decent observation in saying that a fledgling vampire as Bill described it - unpredictable, emotional, no impulse control - was really not all that different from the horrors of being a teenage girl. Sookie just forgot that Jessica has super-strength, super-speed and fangs such that there was no way under God that Sookie would be able to control her when it hit the fan.
Idiot.
However. While Jessica's dialogue is painful in a teenage girl sort of way, it is no more painful than Sookie and Bill's. And I am hopeful that watching her grow up with such a blatant lack of guidance from her foolish, self-absorbed sire will be interesting.
Hm. I seem to feel strongly about that.
In the final analysis, True Blood is still more..graphic than I really appreciate, but it is doing some really good storytelling. I'm just ticked because now I have to go read the third book.
E-Book Lending at the Public Library
Yesterday, Tim at LibraryThing posted an essay about the economics of e-book lending from public libraries. He did some research on the cost of lending and came to the conclusion that it probably wouldn’t work. By dividing number of books lent each year by annual library budgets he came to an average “cost per circulation” of 50 cents. Thus:
“Unfortunately, to keep library budgets the same, ebook sellers will need to accept $0.50 for each library loan. That’s not just the publisher’s money. The same $0.50 must compensate the publisher, the author and the ebook seller—all of whose costs were figured into the previous $0.50 calculations. (You can perhaps begin to understand why publishers and authors have never liked libraries, although few will say it openly.)”
I have not checked his math, and I am not sure how and whether publishers will adapt to the new market. But this is an interesting discussion.
“Unfortunately, to keep library budgets the same, ebook sellers will need to accept $0.50 for each library loan. That’s not just the publisher’s money. The same $0.50 must compensate the publisher, the author and the ebook seller—all of whose costs were figured into the previous $0.50 calculations. (You can perhaps begin to understand why publishers and authors have never liked libraries, although few will say it openly.)”
I have not checked his math, and I am not sure how and whether publishers will adapt to the new market. But this is an interesting discussion.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Toronto: Day 5 and the Week in Review
I took it pretty easy my last day in Toronto, mostly because I had a back spasm the day before and I didn’t want to push my luck. But before settling in to watch the Second Season of True Blood, I walked over to Chinatown and the Kensington market, which were very pleasant, and then I went to find The World’s Biggest Bookstore.
Rant 1: I was not impressed with The World's Biggest Bookstore, particularly because after I walked out of it, I immediately saw its little brother which resembled Half Price Books. And they were both owned by Indigo, Toronto’s answer to Borders.
What I will give to these bookstores is they have huge – huge – science fiction/fantasy sections. Oh, and that used book store had more Ellroy that I have ever seen in one store at one time in my entire life. I didn’t recognize half the titles.
So. I still feel like Toronto is an awful lot like Chicago. Tim Horton’s doughnuts are better than Dunkin’ – though I didn’t try the coffee. Oh, and I tried Horton's answer to the Munchkin and found them inferior. So for the regular doughnut, Tim wins. For a box of Munchkins, Dunkin' Donuts. Got that?
Starbucks is everywhere. McDonald’s can be found, but pizza didn’t look promising. Everyone has a dog, and I was in the city for four days before I spotted any mess on the sidewalks. Public transportation is good, pedestrians are generally respected.
Rant 2: Oh! Except by the evil bicycle riders that are way worse than here. By that I mean the number that ride in the street but ignore the traffic signals and imperil the pedestrians that have the green light.
I hardly heard anyone with what I could identify as a Canadian accent. Finally, my Niagara tour guide said “aboot”, which made me very happy.
Rant 3: For the first time in my life, I saw a statue of a hero of the American Revolution – that was one of the bad guys. The bad guys! I refused to take his picture and do not recall his name. But that same tour guide was full of stories of the War of 1812. Some of it was interesting alternate perspective – like:
They didn’t teach us in school that the Burning of Washington DC was in retaliation for the Americans trashing the City of York (that which is now Toronto). They just told us the story of Dolly Madison grabbing President Washington’s portrait from the White House wall and running out the back door for her very life.
Apparently, someone is also planning some big celebration/re-enactment for the Bi-Centennial of the battles on the Niagara River. Tour guide was all excited about it. At about that point, I was all: “You guys know that you lost that war, right?” I didn't actually say it.
Sorry to go all Arrogant American on you. Which leads to:
Rant 4:
The Ugly American Tourist. I am particularly self-conscious about that generalization. So when I realized that I was one of three Americans on the tour bus, I kept my mouth shut and made darn sure that I was never the one keeping people waiting. So let’s talk about those stereotypes:
You can always spot an American by the shorts and gym shoes.
B.S. The Brits, Australians, New Zealanders and Canadians were all wearing shorts. And not on my tour bus, but I saw several French-speaking people at the Falls wearing shorts (of course, they could have been Canadian). There were two people wearing dresses – a lady from Poland and a lady from Spain. Whose husband was wearing shorts.
Americans are loud and demanding and inconsiderate of others.
No one was demanding in the “I am paying for this and want my money’s worth” way. But it wasn’t the Americans going back for thirds at the Buffet. The British ladies were the ones shoving to get off the bus first at every stop. And it was the Spanish couple that kept the rest of the group waiting every. Single. Time. The rest of the bus was ready to go. In fact, the Polish lady once got off the bus to go get a beer because she was so sure the Spanish people were going to keep us all waiting again. “I’ll be back in 10 minutes”, she said. She got back before they did.
Americans are cheap.
Hello. I don’t know who gave what, but it was the Brits that neglected to tip the tour guide.
Now. Perhaps the Ugly American image is more about Americans visiting Europe. It would clearly be easier for a US citizen to blend in with Canadians. And it is easily more appropriate to expect everyone to speak English when one is in Canada. But I am taking this much less to heart than I did a week ago.
In the final analysis, I say: Toronto is a great place for a summer vacation. But boy, I wouldn’t want to be there in February.
Kind of like Chicago.
Rant 1: I was not impressed with The World's Biggest Bookstore, particularly because after I walked out of it, I immediately saw its little brother which resembled Half Price Books. And they were both owned by Indigo, Toronto’s answer to Borders.
What I will give to these bookstores is they have huge – huge – science fiction/fantasy sections. Oh, and that used book store had more Ellroy that I have ever seen in one store at one time in my entire life. I didn’t recognize half the titles.
So. I still feel like Toronto is an awful lot like Chicago. Tim Horton’s doughnuts are better than Dunkin’ – though I didn’t try the coffee. Oh, and I tried Horton's answer to the Munchkin and found them inferior. So for the regular doughnut, Tim wins. For a box of Munchkins, Dunkin' Donuts. Got that?
Starbucks is everywhere. McDonald’s can be found, but pizza didn’t look promising. Everyone has a dog, and I was in the city for four days before I spotted any mess on the sidewalks. Public transportation is good, pedestrians are generally respected.
Rant 2: Oh! Except by the evil bicycle riders that are way worse than here. By that I mean the number that ride in the street but ignore the traffic signals and imperil the pedestrians that have the green light.
I hardly heard anyone with what I could identify as a Canadian accent. Finally, my Niagara tour guide said “aboot”, which made me very happy.
Rant 3: For the first time in my life, I saw a statue of a hero of the American Revolution – that was one of the bad guys. The bad guys! I refused to take his picture and do not recall his name. But that same tour guide was full of stories of the War of 1812. Some of it was interesting alternate perspective – like:
They didn’t teach us in school that the Burning of Washington DC was in retaliation for the Americans trashing the City of York (that which is now Toronto). They just told us the story of Dolly Madison grabbing President Washington’s portrait from the White House wall and running out the back door for her very life.
Apparently, someone is also planning some big celebration/re-enactment for the Bi-Centennial of the battles on the Niagara River. Tour guide was all excited about it. At about that point, I was all: “You guys know that you lost that war, right?” I didn't actually say it.
Sorry to go all Arrogant American on you. Which leads to:
Rant 4:
The Ugly American Tourist. I am particularly self-conscious about that generalization. So when I realized that I was one of three Americans on the tour bus, I kept my mouth shut and made darn sure that I was never the one keeping people waiting. So let’s talk about those stereotypes:
You can always spot an American by the shorts and gym shoes.
B.S. The Brits, Australians, New Zealanders and Canadians were all wearing shorts. And not on my tour bus, but I saw several French-speaking people at the Falls wearing shorts (of course, they could have been Canadian). There were two people wearing dresses – a lady from Poland and a lady from Spain. Whose husband was wearing shorts.
Americans are loud and demanding and inconsiderate of others.
No one was demanding in the “I am paying for this and want my money’s worth” way. But it wasn’t the Americans going back for thirds at the Buffet. The British ladies were the ones shoving to get off the bus first at every stop. And it was the Spanish couple that kept the rest of the group waiting every. Single. Time. The rest of the bus was ready to go. In fact, the Polish lady once got off the bus to go get a beer because she was so sure the Spanish people were going to keep us all waiting again. “I’ll be back in 10 minutes”, she said. She got back before they did.
Americans are cheap.
Hello. I don’t know who gave what, but it was the Brits that neglected to tip the tour guide.
Now. Perhaps the Ugly American image is more about Americans visiting Europe. It would clearly be easier for a US citizen to blend in with Canadians. And it is easily more appropriate to expect everyone to speak English when one is in Canada. But I am taking this much less to heart than I did a week ago.
In the final analysis, I say: Toronto is a great place for a summer vacation. But boy, I wouldn’t want to be there in February.
Kind of like Chicago.
Back Home
Before I do my official recap from Toronto, I must give a shout out to my little guide book. I used Frommer's Toronto 2010, borrowed from my library.
I didn't check it before booking my hotel, because I am still racking up Marriott points for the next trip to Hawaii. Which I'd better book soon if I want to use Saver Miles. But I am happy to say the Courtyard Downtown was listed as Recommended and pretty accurate in its description.
Frommer's validated my decisions about transportation. Called out Fran's, the place where I had dinner three times, on the list of favorite "greasy spoon" restaurants. And had several mapped out walking tours that I used nearly every day.
The only thing it didn't have was notes on the tour companies. I sort of get it - if you have the guide book, why do you need notes on tour companies. The answer is day trips from the city. I had more than one candidate for the Niagara Falls trip and the websites were not helping me to decide. Ultimately, I went with the one recommended by the hotel. It was good, but I would've appreciated some guidance from someone that I knew wasn't getting a piece of the action.
Oh, the other complaint - the prices listed are already out of date. From the subway to the museum admission, everything I saw that had a cost listed was inaccurate a mere eight months after publication. Not a deal breaker, and probably not even their fault, but annoying when it is something they harp on.
Otherwise, an easy and useful tool.
I didn't check it before booking my hotel, because I am still racking up Marriott points for the next trip to Hawaii. Which I'd better book soon if I want to use Saver Miles. But I am happy to say the Courtyard Downtown was listed as Recommended and pretty accurate in its description.
Frommer's validated my decisions about transportation. Called out Fran's, the place where I had dinner three times, on the list of favorite "greasy spoon" restaurants. And had several mapped out walking tours that I used nearly every day.
The only thing it didn't have was notes on the tour companies. I sort of get it - if you have the guide book, why do you need notes on tour companies. The answer is day trips from the city. I had more than one candidate for the Niagara Falls trip and the websites were not helping me to decide. Ultimately, I went with the one recommended by the hotel. It was good, but I would've appreciated some guidance from someone that I knew wasn't getting a piece of the action.
Oh, the other complaint - the prices listed are already out of date. From the subway to the museum admission, everything I saw that had a cost listed was inaccurate a mere eight months after publication. Not a deal breaker, and probably not even their fault, but annoying when it is something they harp on.
Otherwise, an easy and useful tool.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Toronto: Day 4
I took the subway down as close as I could get to the "harbourfront", which in Chicago would be called "the lakefront". I meant to hike over to the famous CN Tower, but my little guidebook said it would be $20+ to go up the elevator and jump on the glass floor so I opted instead to spend my $20+ on the one-hour harbour cruise, where I took this shot. Cutting off the top of the tower with my over-eager zoom button.
Then I managed some shopping and had lunch, at which time I remembered that my little guidebook also mentioned, several times, a Farmer's Market on Tuesdays at Riverdale Park. I know how to get there. The little guidebook failed to mention that the Farmer's Market doesn't set up until 3pm. Glad I had a new book to read. It wasn't any better than the Farmer's Market in Glenview. Seriously, I completely understand why this is a fabulous thing if you live in the neighborhood - the produce looked great - but to specifically send tourists?
A Few Thoughts From the Niagara Falls Tour Yesterday:
Unless I really wanted to take a theatre vacation to the Shaw Festival, I don't see much reason to spend a week there. Niagara-on-the-Lake is the quaint little town up the road with the B&Bs. It is charming, but so is Galena, Illinois. The Shaw Festival, and I seem to recall hearing there is some Shakespeare nearby, are the draw if I am going to get on an airplane and not go to New Orleans.
We went to a wine tasting, which normally makes me yawn, but this one was a bit different. The local college at Niagara Falls has one of two viticulture programs on the continent (the other being in Napa). What Napa doesn't have is ice wine. I'd never heard of ice wine before, but it is freaking fabulous. The idea is that they don't harvest until the water in the fruit turns to ice. Then they pull the grapes and press them before they thaw. They were literally out of the white from last season, so we tried the red. I don't even like red and I could have had that all day. I nearly bought a bottle, but the bus was ready to go and who wants to carry wine home, anyway. But if anyone is headed out here, go for it.
Of course, the Falls were fabulous and the Maid of the Mist boat tour really is required. I am glad I saw them from the Canadian side. I can't remember if those were my mother's instructions or someone else's, but thank you for that.
The tour company was Toronto Tours. It was decently run and our guide was pleasant, but they really do cram as many people as possible into a mini-bus. We had 23 on a bus that sits 24, which means that anyone that isn't onboard with a partner is going to be getting very cozy with a stranger. In my case, a twenty-something British smoker that smelled like he had taken the hair of the dog before making our 9am tour. So did his two buds, sitting behind us. He was wearing a shirt that said, "The Gun Store".
If I had to do it again, I would opt for the 7-hour, as opposed to the 10-hour tour. Part of the shorter day was a group lunch, which was terrible anyway, and one of the stops. I could have done without them.
Also, I learned an awful lot about the War of 1812. Rant on that later.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Toronto: Day 3
I am sorry to say I am too tired to post about my day - the trip to Niagara Falls. But I managed to upload the pictures, if not edit them. Sorry about those people that got into my view. I believe if you click on the photo, it will take you to my Picasa site. Then you can see it in full screen.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Lace Reader, by Brunonia Barry
Book 32
I pulled The Lace Reader by Brunonia Barry out of a pile of donations to price at the Used Book Store and I don't know why the heck I started reading it. The heroine begins by outing herself as a liar, which turned me off in a big way. Then she amended the statement to say that she is crazy. Either way, an "unreliable narrator".
Well. That is slightly more interesting. After a chapter, I decided to buy it myself.
Towner has returned to her hometown of Salem, Massachusetts because her great-aunt Eva has disappeared. They are a family of psychics that can see flashes of the future in lace. Towner has rejected her blahblahblah, moved to sunny California and never meant to return. She arrives at Eva's house and Eva is there, telling her to rest or whatever. She falls asleep and Eva's body is found in the water about a million miles away. That wasn't heavy-handed or anything.
You have the "mother", May, who lives on an island running a sort of shelter/commune of abused women and children. She seems to have been inspired after Towners' twin sister, Lindley, who was sexually abused by her father, killed herself. The father is now a born-again bastard with a band of evil followers that exorcise demons at a nearby campground. Seriously. There is also a sub-plot with another young victim and then there is the local cop/love interest.
The big reveal first occurred to me at about the halfway point of the novel, and I felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. I don't want to SPOILER anything here, but hello, My Sweet Audrina
. However, I will give Barry credit because there were plenty of red herrings that made me doubt my conclusion. If I hadn't made the guess as soon as I did, I would've had several moments of The Sixth Sense - having to rewind that sucker.
Also, there are several interesting supporting characters that I enjoyed, such that I could envision the WB television adaptation: sort of a Gilmore Girls meets The Medium. I'd watch that show.
So. While the ending was almost entirely expected, the ride was pretty fun.
I pulled The Lace Reader by Brunonia Barry out of a pile of donations to price at the Used Book Store and I don't know why the heck I started reading it. The heroine begins by outing herself as a liar, which turned me off in a big way. Then she amended the statement to say that she is crazy. Either way, an "unreliable narrator".
Well. That is slightly more interesting. After a chapter, I decided to buy it myself.
Towner has returned to her hometown of Salem, Massachusetts because her great-aunt Eva has disappeared. They are a family of psychics that can see flashes of the future in lace. Towner has rejected her blahblahblah, moved to sunny California and never meant to return. She arrives at Eva's house and Eva is there, telling her to rest or whatever. She falls asleep and Eva's body is found in the water about a million miles away. That wasn't heavy-handed or anything.
You have the "mother", May, who lives on an island running a sort of shelter/commune of abused women and children. She seems to have been inspired after Towners' twin sister, Lindley, who was sexually abused by her father, killed herself. The father is now a born-again bastard with a band of evil followers that exorcise demons at a nearby campground. Seriously. There is also a sub-plot with another young victim and then there is the local cop/love interest.
The big reveal first occurred to me at about the halfway point of the novel, and I felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. I don't want to SPOILER anything here, but hello, My Sweet Audrina
. However, I will give Barry credit because there were plenty of red herrings that made me doubt my conclusion. If I hadn't made the guess as soon as I did, I would've had several moments of The Sixth Sense - having to rewind that sucker.Also, there are several interesting supporting characters that I enjoyed, such that I could envision the WB television adaptation: sort of a Gilmore Girls meets The Medium. I'd watch that show.
So. While the ending was almost entirely expected, the ride was pretty fun.
Toronto: Day 2
I was never really into the Goth scene, but I can tell that I still have some tendencies because I end up in the original cemetery in every city that I visit. In my defense, the Necropolis (no joke) was actually part of the random “city strolls” in my travel guide.
The “cabbage town” tour started only a few blocks from my hotel, so I headed out early. The first stop was a park where they have a conservatory that wasn’t yet open and two fenced in areas for dogs to play off leash. I found this thrilling until I saw the dogs that were not allowed off leash. Female dogs in heat (ok), unneutered male dogs (hm. I wonder how they pulled that off), dogs that had been required by the courts to be muzzled (ok) and Pit Bulls.
Bastards.
On my way out, I saw a group of people practicing tai chi. Nice.
I walked through the residential neighborhoods and they were gorgeous. Old Victorians. At the end was the Necropolis. Here is the chapel:
I think it is weird to get all excited about "gothic architecture when it is covered in ivy, but whatever. Heading inside:
Then I went through and saw the crypt where the remains of the cremated people were. Note to Mom: ashes should be scattered. Then to the cemetery.
The place is still in use and there were several recent markers. One that struck me right by the entrance was a 12-year old girl who died in 1975. She had a shiny new memorial because her mother died at age 65 last fall and was buried with her. I couldn't make myself take a picture of that one.
I took a few shots of older and interesting stones, then moved on to the Riverdale Farm. An actual working farm in a park in the city. It was cute, but there were too many kids, so I moved on. The walk continued past the earliest public housing in Toronto where, seriously, I would live. You know, if it had a heated garage. Which it might, as it has gone co-op. Then I managed to find a street car back to my hotel.
I made a stop at the hotel to see about booking a trip to Niagara Falls tomorrow. Successful. Then I took the subway to Yorkville, thinking that I would have lunch and go to the museum. Yorkville seems to be the upscale, trendy neighborhood. (yawn). I had a club sandwich outside at Remy's, which was perfectly lovely. But the bathrooms leave something to be desired.
By then, the museum seemed lame, so I walked over to Queen's Park. Where there is a statue of a man on a horse. So now I'm ticked. It is Queen's Park. There should be a lady on the horse! Who the heck is this guy?!
The answer is Edward VII who dedicated the park in whatever year in the name of his mother, Queen Victoria. Hrmmph. Fine.
Then I went by this building, which was still in the park and may have been part of the university but I forget. It's just pretty.
By the time I walked back to my hotel, I had put 7.5 miles on my little pedometer, which is why I am online at 4pm. I seem to remember walking by a cute little Italian place this morning, so perhaps I will head in that direction for dinner. Or perhaps I wil just go to the McDonalds across the street.
The “cabbage town” tour started only a few blocks from my hotel, so I headed out early. The first stop was a park where they have a conservatory that wasn’t yet open and two fenced in areas for dogs to play off leash. I found this thrilling until I saw the dogs that were not allowed off leash. Female dogs in heat (ok), unneutered male dogs (hm. I wonder how they pulled that off), dogs that had been required by the courts to be muzzled (ok) and Pit Bulls.
Bastards.
On my way out, I saw a group of people practicing tai chi. Nice.
I walked through the residential neighborhoods and they were gorgeous. Old Victorians. At the end was the Necropolis. Here is the chapel:
I think it is weird to get all excited about "gothic architecture when it is covered in ivy, but whatever. Heading inside:
Then I went through and saw the crypt where the remains of the cremated people were. Note to Mom: ashes should be scattered. Then to the cemetery.
The place is still in use and there were several recent markers. One that struck me right by the entrance was a 12-year old girl who died in 1975. She had a shiny new memorial because her mother died at age 65 last fall and was buried with her. I couldn't make myself take a picture of that one.
I took a few shots of older and interesting stones, then moved on to the Riverdale Farm. An actual working farm in a park in the city. It was cute, but there were too many kids, so I moved on. The walk continued past the earliest public housing in Toronto where, seriously, I would live. You know, if it had a heated garage. Which it might, as it has gone co-op. Then I managed to find a street car back to my hotel.
I made a stop at the hotel to see about booking a trip to Niagara Falls tomorrow. Successful. Then I took the subway to Yorkville, thinking that I would have lunch and go to the museum. Yorkville seems to be the upscale, trendy neighborhood. (yawn). I had a club sandwich outside at Remy's, which was perfectly lovely. But the bathrooms leave something to be desired.
By then, the museum seemed lame, so I walked over to Queen's Park. Where there is a statue of a man on a horse. So now I'm ticked. It is Queen's Park. There should be a lady on the horse! Who the heck is this guy?!
The answer is Edward VII who dedicated the park in whatever year in the name of his mother, Queen Victoria. Hrmmph. Fine.
Then I went by this building, which was still in the park and may have been part of the university but I forget. It's just pretty.
By the time I walked back to my hotel, I had put 7.5 miles on my little pedometer, which is why I am online at 4pm. I seem to remember walking by a cute little Italian place this morning, so perhaps I will head in that direction for dinner. Or perhaps I wil just go to the McDonalds across the street.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Toronto: First Impressions
My first impression of Toronto was, “Oh, yeah. It’s another country and stuff.” My second impression was, “It’s just like Chicago.”
Those wretched storms delayed my flight by about 90 minutes, which is not a tragedy. When we finally arrive, I followed the nice signage to the customs agent. He eyed me suspiciously when I said I was traveling alone and would not be visiting friends or family. I picked up my bag and went to the ATM.
It is against my programming to use a strange ATM. I can’t stand the fees. And since I just learned that both of my credit cards have something called a “foreign service fee”, I really had to use it. Around that time, it occurred to me that my phone might have international fees attached. I e-mailed my mother to look. Sure enough:
Calls are 79 cents a minute. Texts are 50 cents each. Emails are a dollar if they are short enough. Thankfully, the hotel room wi-fi is free.
I had made a reservation with an airport shuttle service. $20 for a lift into town, but the nearest shuttle stop is three blocks from my hotel. It is raining. Then I started looking out the window. Home Depot. Wal-Mart. Best Buy. (rolls eyes).
I checked in, soaking wet. Guy at the desk asked what I planned to do that day. I don’t want to be an Ugly American, but. Really? It is 3:30 pm and I am soaking wet. I am going to dry off and do nothing. So that’s what I told him. But nicely. He upgraded me to a corner room with a balcony. It is a tiny room with a tiny balcony, but still. The view (from a 90 degree angle off the balcony):
There is a 24-hour drugstore down the street so I picked up a case of Coke Diete and some snacks for the week. Going down the snack aisle I saw all the different Canadian things and got all excited. I settled on organic gummy cola bottles (apparently, "organic" in French is "biologique" and a Nestle candy called Coffee Crisp. It seems to be like a Kit Kat, but chubbier and coffee flavored. Awesome. And then I found a little diner around the corner. I was going to get a simple grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of soup, but the guy next to me wouldn't shut up about the mac and cheese. Then the jerk went and ordered lasagna. But I think I might eat there every single day.
So. I couldn't seem to book a Niagara Falls trip online, but I will look into that tomorrow. And the weather will be better, so I will try one of the walking tours in my little Frommer's book. But for now? Reading novels and eating gummy cola bottles. That say "Bio Cola" on them.
Those wretched storms delayed my flight by about 90 minutes, which is not a tragedy. When we finally arrive, I followed the nice signage to the customs agent. He eyed me suspiciously when I said I was traveling alone and would not be visiting friends or family. I picked up my bag and went to the ATM.
It is against my programming to use a strange ATM. I can’t stand the fees. And since I just learned that both of my credit cards have something called a “foreign service fee”, I really had to use it. Around that time, it occurred to me that my phone might have international fees attached. I e-mailed my mother to look. Sure enough:
Calls are 79 cents a minute. Texts are 50 cents each. Emails are a dollar if they are short enough. Thankfully, the hotel room wi-fi is free.
I had made a reservation with an airport shuttle service. $20 for a lift into town, but the nearest shuttle stop is three blocks from my hotel. It is raining. Then I started looking out the window. Home Depot. Wal-Mart. Best Buy. (rolls eyes).
I checked in, soaking wet. Guy at the desk asked what I planned to do that day. I don’t want to be an Ugly American, but. Really? It is 3:30 pm and I am soaking wet. I am going to dry off and do nothing. So that’s what I told him. But nicely. He upgraded me to a corner room with a balcony. It is a tiny room with a tiny balcony, but still. The view (from a 90 degree angle off the balcony):
There is a 24-hour drugstore down the street so I picked up a case of Coke Diete and some snacks for the week. Going down the snack aisle I saw all the different Canadian things and got all excited. I settled on organic gummy cola bottles (apparently, "organic" in French is "biologique" and a Nestle candy called Coffee Crisp. It seems to be like a Kit Kat, but chubbier and coffee flavored. Awesome. And then I found a little diner around the corner. I was going to get a simple grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of soup, but the guy next to me wouldn't shut up about the mac and cheese. Then the jerk went and ordered lasagna. But I think I might eat there every single day.
So. I couldn't seem to book a Niagara Falls trip online, but I will look into that tomorrow. And the weather will be better, so I will try one of the walking tours in my little Frommer's book. But for now? Reading novels and eating gummy cola bottles. That say "Bio Cola" on them.
