Definitely not the Postman’s Son

This weekend, my sister and I went to see my father. We had longstanding plans to go through some family memorabilia: documents, newspaper clippings, family trees, and pictures. The idea was to document and classify the contents of the various boxes: adding order to chaos, really. By the end of our marathon, we had only made a dent.

While flipping through the photos, my sister kept gasping, laughing and squealing: “Oh. My. God.” She was the first to look through a box of snapshots of my father when he was in his late-twenties/early-thirties. She saw a resemblance. Both my father and I were a bit surprised when we began examining the photos of him and comparing them to me. So, I thought that it would be interesting to put some photos side-by-side to see for myself.

In this set, my father is 27 and I am 26:


In this set, my father is 32 and I am 30:


When I brought some of pictures home, Mr. T. was a bit freaked out, noting, “If you cover your dad’s nose in the picture, it looks just like you.” I guess I got my mother’s nose…

¡15 días hasta que es caliente!

With the temperatures in Montreal falling into a deepfreeze pattern, I’ve become increasingly excited about our upcoming trip to Argentina. Bundled up in my hooded jacket, scarf, gloves and hat this morning, I marched to the metro in –30-degree wind-chill. The buds of my headphones froze the interior of my ears while the sound of the Spanish Earworm instructed me to reiterate “Y otro coñac para mí también.” I thought that it was a bit early for cognac, but I just went with it...

Other preparatory exercises have included booking hotels, a wine tour, as well as figuring out the best way to get from Buenos Aires to Mendoza. In the end we decided to fly, if only to avoid the 12-hour/955-kilometer trek on the bus.

The countdown has begun in earnest! I hope to blog a little bit while I’m there (but will not commit to daily updates). In the meantime, I leave you with an excerpt from our favourite diva/African baby thief adopter:

Fill me up with your heat, with your noise
With your dirt, overdo me
Let me dance to your beat, make it loud
Let it hurt, run it through me.
Don't hold back, you are certain to impress
Tell the driver this is where I'm staying

Hello, Buenos Aires
Get this, just look at me dressed up, somewhere to go
We'll put on a show

Oh, will we ever put on a show... Especially after our Tango lessons – although I fear that it will be more of a comedy than a cultural event.

Hey... You!

I found it! My favourite SNL commercial of all time:



The beat sounds like the soundtrack to a porn, the bar is smoky and brown, and Guilda's performance is top notch -- as usual.

The Perfect Belated Holiday Gift

Like most (normal) people, I don't subscribe to the idea of holiday shopping for next year now. Despite the bargains that can be found, the leftovers are usually an array of trash that you would only give to your enemies and/or family members you would rather see in their graves. However, I do have some ideas for next year's festivious time of year.

While in the lovely Ontario capital over the joyous time of year known as Christmas, Mr. T, Nicky, and I stumbled upon some excellent ideas to surprise those people who just have everything.

Including the uncle that has a criminal past in West Virginia. Consider this quick fix:
Or what about the couple that you can't bear spending one more evening entertaining because their always at each other's throats. Okay, maybe it's not all that selfless, but everybody wins with this present:



Keep this in mind for next year!

Ho ho ho!