Ah Montreal winter.... The death-winds begin ( Read more... )

I have a new grain in my life - millet, which cooks like rice, has tons of protein, and has that same nutty taste of quinoa, at half the price. I also have a new roommate in my life - I moved in with Debbie two weeks ago ( Read more... )

One stormy April morning in the final weeks of my program last year, the director of our final production came in to the studio shaking her soggy umbrella, and with a big grin said, "Today's my anniversary, and it's raining. It rained like this on our wedding day." And with a happy sigh, she said "Rain...is a GOOD sign ( Read more... )

At a dinner party last night of girlfriends new and old, I was requested to tell the story, yet again, of my absurdly disastrous Greyhound trip to Miami almost two years ago. My absurdly disastrous trip, in which I impulsively decided to take a 46 hour bus to the city where my recently-exed-boyfriend happened to be vacationing, in lieu of hopping ( Read more... )

I've been dreaming whackoid dreams lately, folkies ( Read more... )

Pita and zaatar and homemade babaganouj and hummus and corn soup and cheddar and tabouli and pomegranate and St Ambroise and apple crisp and vanilla ice cream and chick pea salad flax bread and baked potato and taziki ( Read more... )

After a week of resolution-making, room-cleaning and soul-cleansing, last-minute hellos on the phone to friends and family, last-minute apologies and last-minute stuffing-of-food, I have begun the Yom Kippur fast. All I can think about is food guys. I'm so hungry. There's no reason to be...I had a huge meal six hours ago. It's the deprivation of ( Read more... )

Rosh Hashana begins tonight, thus kick-starting the ten Days of Awe which, for Jews, means it's time to Get Real. These ten days are a buffer between the year that's past and the year that's about to begin, and an extended chance to make New Year's resolutions ( Read more... )

Montreal Gazette, September 20, 2006 ( Read more... )

Today was uncannily reminiscent of September 11th. A little trickle of news ballooned into this confusion of people scrambling to get the story straight. The three hours between hearing of the shooting and finally hearing my mother's voice, were eerily similar to the twelve hours between hearing of the Twin Towers falling and hearing that my ( Read more... )