I appears our good old Ontario's gone racist....or communist what ever you want to interpret from today's story on Toronto Star about ban on use of raw fish in sushi by provincial health officials . They want to enforce freezing the fish before it will be used and they are giving all sushi restaurants three months to get to it.
I'm sure there are those among you who are gagging at the thought of eating raw-fish- so stop reading already. BUT.....Sushi lovers like me are just gagging at the thought of frozen raw fish in sushi with ice-bits. . If you are going to freeze the stuff.... You might as not eat sushi.......make bloody curry out of the damn thing! I can just imagine how the chefs are reacting - what makes sushi appetizing and colorful IS the fresh fish you idiots! Its how its MADE for fucks sake and people are have eating it for centuries - no problem.
It seems that not only is there no immediate threat to public health from raw fish, but even infectious disease experts are clueless as to the reason for the changes, adding "severe sickness from a parasite coming from raw sushi is rather rare!" And they can't possibly be thinking about PCPs and other chemical pollutants in fish because you can't get rid of that stuff by freezing anyway. There is no reason provided, just a fear-mongering tactic by health officials- freeze the sushi. Why? who the fuck knows, but you just know there are going to be idiots buying into this scare and stop going to their favourite joint.

Gawd, first we had some stupid 'scientific' study that tried to prove that extensive use of chop-sticks will give you arthritis (its being overweight that'll give you arthritis you dolts), and now this! And don't get me started on all that happened during SARS thing. I'm embarrassed even to admit that my parents were among those ....excuse the insult......BLOODY FUCKING IDIOTS....who stopped going to Asian places, when I was the one working the same fucking hospital building where the SARS patients were being treated!

You just know some racist bastards up there are thinking 'o too many fucking Asian people around...how can we run them out of business', or ' we have been controlling what people are going to wear this season (Pink), we might as well try and give it as shot at controlling what they bloody well eat too!'.

I say lets take it to the streets, people.....say it with me 'Hail to raw salmon smothered in unidentified spicy creamy sauce and avocado wrapped in sea-weed'! mmmmmmm.. :D





The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough.
It takes up a lot of your time.
What do you get at the end of it? A death.
What's that, a bonus?
I think the life cycle is all backwards.
You should die first, get it out of the way.
Then you live in an old age home.
You get kicked out when you're too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work.
You work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy retirement.
You drink alcohol, you party, and you get ready for High School.
You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last 9 months floating... then you finish off as an orgasm!

George Costanza,
Seinfeld

*Usually I like to say I was not a Seinfeld fan(mainly because I hated Jerry), but I was in stitches, not to mention awestruck, with this little George bit. hehehe!*






September visitors to 'Sunshine too Brief'. Aww thanks everyone :)





The weather has been reasonably cold enough to prompt some fall shopping.
For me atleast.
So I went to the Eglington center last night to look for some new work pants and maybe a top or two.
Lessons learnt so far -
a) never try on pants at stores that are NOT your usual stops. They'll just make you miserable coz nothing will seem to fit. Stick to the stores you know.
b) if a pair fits really good- buy two, especially if they are on sale
c) don't buy jewelry before you buy the top.
d) pray fervently that the color of the season is not something grotesque like 'Pink' or 'Orange'.

Whadoyouknow? The colour of this season is Pink. Every fucking thing is Pink or some print of pink or shade of pink. What are the designers/retailors thinking? That for the next 7/8 months we are not be allowed other colours?

Then if you somehow manage to successfully trek through all that pink stuff, you are faced with Ponchos! Everywhere you look- these hideous triangular pieces of crochet ...wool?cotton?...to be worn over jeans and tank-tops. And people are buying it too! Whts its purpose?- not warmth, not even style.

Nyway some-how I managed to find one top thats less-pinky right around closing time. and mission accomplished.

I'm still stuck with pink pajamas.




YES! Three weeks without internet at home- and I survived.
I know I know you are thinking 'how self-absorbed can you possibly be? Think of the starving children who never even heard of the internet etc'.
But I felt sooo...well disconnected from everything.

Now I can read '1984' online, think of the 'starving children', update this blog more often and actually write something that's worth reading- all from home! Its hard to get creative at work while looking at deformed brains all day unless you start to imagine rabbits/worms/UWO(unidentified white objects) inside the shadowy crevices of the brains. Which in itself can be entertaining for..oh about 10 minutes. But not worth writing about. god-damnit. I just did. :P
Oh well, who's reading this crap anyway? hmmmm?











Have you ever noticed the number of cigarette butts scattered on the streets/sidewalks/bushes/trees/squirrels of Toronto?
It hit me when I counted three times more butts around this particular cigarette butt-stop than in.
Generally Torontonians (speaking broadly and not including the bums on the street) are good about throwing their trash in the proper bins. Some angelic ones even venture further and find the correct recycle bins. But as far as cigarette butts go, people could be literally standing 5 feet away from the trash can/butt stops and still throw it on the ground and put it out with their shoes. There has to be something in the psychology of smoking that makes you want to carelessly pollute your surroundings along with your insides. Or it could be about refusing to follow rules. Or something? Is there gender bias? Anyone studying this?
Nyway, I was waiting at the bus stop by the hospital yesterday and with nothing better to do, I started giving mental-evil-eye at the guy smoking next to me, daring him to flick it on the ground. He got the point after a while. He walked over to the other side of the steet and finished his smoking. Damn. May you have dreams of being chased by burning butts ! HA. There. I showed him.




I was surfing the 'Next Blog' option on blogger, running into a whole lot of Brazilian(?) ones, some school kiddy ones with no concept of punctuation/capital letters and then voila...somehow three P*** (rhymes with corn) sites popped up!
I almost had a heart-attack. Mad scramble for CTRL+ALT+DEL.
Hmmp.
There's no freaking safe surfing at work anymore.

hmm its prolly a hint for me to start doing some actual work.
*moan*
I'm so sleepy, thanks to bangali lunch dawats that last till 9:30- freaking-pm! grr.
I need one of these Sleep Pod things.





Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of you.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
- Pablo Neruda

She had her own special perfume...I could never pinpoint it....it had a hint of 'paan' (beetle leaf) that I remember. And I remember that she had very very soft arms that were always open with a hug for me. Never telling me to stop running around, chiding my talking to much/too loud/not eating enough, never asking if I was doing well in school, never asking for anything for the way she loved me. She had eight children of her own as well as half a dozen grandchildren. And oddly enough I don't think she even told me a bedtime story ever or try to feed me by telling me one. But she always made me feel like I was special and worthy of being loved while she listened to my prattlings from the time I was 4 till I was 18 years old, which is when I last saw her. To her, I wasn't the skinny,black,loud,troublesome girl that I was to everyone else of my family. And she wasn't even my 'real' grandma. She was my mother's step-aunt. In her last letter, sent three years ago Today, she had only talked about how much she loves me and wants me to come see her next time my parents visit.
And then 2 months later she was gone. And I never got to reply to that letter. Or visit her. I could cry everyday, beg, plead or make as many bargain as possible and I'll still never see her or get a hug from her. She was not the first to die nor the last....but she was the best a human being can ever achieve to be. Almost three years. And I still choke up.





Today's News: Man presumed dead in Toronto attends his own wake.
(from CTV: Friday Sep. 17 2004, 12:18pm ET)

Dane Squires was believed to have been hit and killed by a GO commuter train in the east end of Toronto last Friday night. His own sister, Diana, had identified his body at the coroner's office this week. As Squires' relatives were leaving his funeral at an east-end Toronto funeral home Thursday, the funeral director came running out to say there was an important phone call.

"She ran out and she said, 'It's him. I talked to him.' And I just about fainted," his daughter Trina Squires told CFTO News. "I was like, 'That can't be for me. I can't handle this.'"

Squires, who is from Newfoundland, reportedly discovered the problem when he read his own obituary in the newspaper.

After phoning the funeral home, Squires went to his sister's home in the city's east end where mourners were gathering for a wake, said a friend who was in attendance but refused to give his name.

A memorial service that was to be held next week in St. John's has now been cancelled. Now police are looking to identify the real victim.


I think there was a Simpson's episode that was similar to this story where everyone assumed Homer was dead and he had to proove that he was alive.
There is even a scarier short story by R. Tagore, where a young woman got left at the cremation site because everyone thought she was dead. But she recovered and came back to her family and then no one was willing to accept her back. She wandered through the rest of her life like a ghost, never fitting in, until she took her own life in the end.

I wonder what Mr. Squires is thinking. Is he grateful that he Wasn't killed or fuming mad at his sister for mis-identifying him?! Whats funny is how it relates to Sim's post about death from only an hour ago.





Finally the trailer for 'Bridget Jones-Edge of Reason' is out on the net. (not that I can watch it yet- F*ing Rogers and stupid work computers without video card).
But the Pictures look good....mmmm mmmmm mmmmmm Colin Firth..in bed..mmm mmmm. Having mini-orgasms here until I read the movie details.
They say its an 'adaptation'?!....more like f*ing writing a whole new story and not a good one either-
a) no interview by Bridget- yeah granted it could not have been Colin Firth she interviews as he is already in the movie. But come on now. Brad Pitt? Hugh Jackman? HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO there are other people you know!
b) Darcy has some sexy intern as opposed to Bridget's bitch-of-a-friend:- what about the pool house scene? huh huh? you gonna scrap that too?
c) they are bringing back Daniel in the big way!- why the hell for? Yes I love Hugh Grant too.........but but....he is no supposed to be there!!!!!!!!!!! <-- too many'exclamation marks'= sign of unstable mind>

They are going to ruin the story. I just know it. And I've been waiting for this for over a year ?

Excuse me while I put my face in my lunch bag and scream.




........is the resident friendly ghost that haunts the Imaging lab I am working at. Its located at the old part of the Sunnybrook hospital. The people at my new work relished sharing this story with me of apparent noises of -chairs pulled, walking, shutters etc- heard early mornings and late nights. Ofcourse I didn't believe them and completely forgot about it. Then this morning I came in early and sure enough started hearing explicit random noises of coughing and chairs being pulled. I thought the Physicist is in. Half an hour later I go to pick up the phone and ...guess what? no one is in the lab except me! No one came in until an hour later. The whole time every few minutes I'd hear sounds on the other end of the lab, too scared to turn around.
So now along with working with vampire-ish students and RAs who never turn on any lights or open windows(coz god forbid a ladybug should wander in), I'll be working with a ghost. Just wonderful.

In other news-I'm loving the freedom of living on my own, though still being the good girl. Annoyingly so. I still come home by 6, put my clothes away in the proper place, keep the kitchen neat, do productive things like reading or painting post dinner. Its like my mother is directing my subconsciously.. GAAH....thats it I'm going to start partying like crazy next week starting this friday. Ice. I need more Ice.
Tusch has stopped crying and has turned into a rascal with all the indulging I have been doing- biting my brand new beaded curtains, pulling all my clothes down, climbing everything . On the plus side, he has also turned Bangali- I've caught him eating with his hands :D

TIFF has started....and I'm still not sure which movie I want to see or even which celebrity to stalk. Why can't anyone interesting(aka HOT) like Depp or Damon or Jackman ever come to the TIFF?
Oh well maybe I can spot Saif Ali Khan when he's down here for the concert of 26th :)