Monday, July 19, 2010

Here come the Canadians! With an "a"...

Another weekend, another jaunt north of the border. No wonder the Canadian customs officials are getting a bit suspicious: "but you were just here last weekend?". Suspicion isn't really the right word though, it's more like incredulity: why would anyone come up North in back to back weekends...

Nice digs. There's something both cool and depressing when your hotel room is bigger than your apartment.

Rock does his best to look like he belongs in such salubrious surroundings. Until his stingy tips reveal his true caste.

On the other hand, Mei has no problem slipping into the My Baby Rattle was from Tiffany mode. The problem is slipping out of it.

The Wedding of the Century. Well, the Quant wedding of the century anyway. Hang on, why aren't the table numbers multiples of pi?

Rock puts on a brave face as he waits for the food to arrive. Fortunately the butter chicken rolls in by the bucket full.

About time.

Two dresses in two hours. When your suite comes with its own makeup alcove, you've got to put it to good use. Thankfully there's also a big ass flat screen to put to good use.

Once outside of the CBD, generic high rises give way to a more bohemian way of life.

Ole ole ole! World Cup fever heads north. Only two halves? But when does the second Zamboni run happen?

It's hard to get lost when the CN tower is a constant presence on the horizon. Hard, not impossible, mind you.

Mei and Mee. One bowl. Two ravenous noodlers. This can only end with chopsticks at 20 paces.

Back to school. Better get ready to run, the Software Engineering C assignment slot closes at 5pm sharp.

I thought that stuff only grew on the fertile soil of Harvard and co?

Never mind that the last African team has bowed out of the Cup, nothing is going to dampen the spirits of the African festival that is in full swing in one of the many parks that dot the city.

Who would have though bongo drums would ring out over the great frozen north? Time to drop all the You Mean there's a World Without Rinks cliches. Actually, we'll wait till the end of this blog.



Right, because the natural thing to do when confronted with a hungry croc is to wander up for the perfect photo op. Actually, this is America, so yeah, it is. Let's park the SUV in the middle of the road and hop out for a family portrait session.

Rock knows there's only one way to really take in a new culture. Through the esophagus.

Zensational!

It's kind of like Times Square. Only without the car bombs.

Olde Town Toronto has gone all boutique...

...which suits Mei just fine.

The only problem with being visible from everywhere is all the tourists in town naturally gravitate to it. Which meant the line was so darn long the J00sters wrote it off for this excursion.


Next stop, the roaring casin... I mean waterfalls of Niagara.

Pretty impressive huh? Why it's over two feet tall!

That's more like it. No matter how many tacky towers and gift shops you pile up on the shore, you can't hide the shear grandeur of 100,000 cubic meters of water doing their best Lehmans impression.

Give me a barrel and 20 bucks...

The Maid of the Mist chugs another load of tourists towards a spectacular, albeit soggy, finale.

On this side of the border we say magnifique eh? On that side of the border they say I wonder if gas is cheaper up there in Eskimo land?

Mighty!

Batten down the hatches team! Get ready for a close encounter of the wet kind.

Cue Duel of the Fates.

Lucky Mei always packs a blow drier.

Incoming spray!


In the heart of the maelstrom things are looking up. When it's this hot, a little mist is welcome relief.

Careful, with that flag don't cross that invisible line or the Nimitz will be steaming up your rear end.

Victory is sweet. Actually it's wet.

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