I went to Café Medina for brunch on Friday with two girls that are the absolute best, and it was SO lovely. Hollowed out of one of those beautiful brick buildings left over on Beatty St., it was jammered on a weekday at 11 am, and it all made sense why very quickly. Not quite hungry enough to eat, I had the most beautiful raspberry caramel latte. But the girls ate, and oh my, their meals were an artist’s palette of delicious. Every ingredient was placed carefully on a big white plate and was fresh, perfectly cooked and just the right amount. We were taken to a back room that had a silly amount of natural light and the greatest infant seated beside us that might have been an actual angel. One of the girl’s bathrooms even had an almost see through smoked glass window, which normally would have been a pee cork, but it was fine. Because the teeny creamer beside the sink was full of delicate Christmas blooms and the soap was good, and the waiters were good looking…basically just go. There’s no need to eat breakfast at home with a place like this around.
The best thing I saw this week was the trailer for Iron Man 2. I had a really good, really fun time at the first one, so this trailer made me very happy. It’s the perfect blend of Robert Downey Jr. being funny, smart and sarcastic (what I believe him to actually be, just like Tom Hanks is very very nice), Garry Shandling, stuff being blown up, shot at and split in half, camera zooms, and just the right amount of Mickey Rourke’s horned fingernails building scary things.
On our anniversary we decided to go balls-out romantic and spend the day at an oulet mall by a casino in the States. We did score some amazing deals and my most favourite and most agonizing was a 0.99$ “pair” of Zoo York mittens. And by “pair” I mean two lefts. Discovered when we were home, 1000 miles away. They are this gorgeous combo of teal, white and red, with hearts! and the mitten flap pulls back to reveal fingerless gloves. They were basically the best gloves ever and totally useless to me. Almost Happy ending: They were rescued in an epic open glove surgery by the amazing photographer AND surgeon Venus and I happily wore them for the three days it got really cold, and then I got a phone call. And was unable to swipe the answer bar on the iPhone and grew very sad yet again. So, in a very unenthused grumbly manner, I guess I need these. Like most things I need rather than want, the colour/style options are meh, but as long as I get a left and a right, I’ll get over it.
Greatest idea ever: putting perfumes in rollerballs. Greatest perfume I have rolled on: Kat Von D’s Saint perfume. This is one of two smells Kat Von D put out with Sephora and the sweeter of the two. Smell-wise, every girl wants to have A) a signature scent so that you are conjured even when you’re not around and B) a smell that lasts well into the night. Especially when you need to cover the smell of the dried pee down your leg, because the girl’s toilets in clubs and pubs are basically mini Vietnams with no toilet seats or stall doors, vomit splashed up the sides of walls, and the only toilet paper is on the floor in wet discoloured wads. The rollerball won’t help you hover-pee in public with any more dignity or aim, but it does fit in the teeniest of clutches and can be reapplied all night with no worry of spillage.
Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson’s self-titled album from last year is killing me right now. The build up of the first track, BuriedFed, basically sounds like the soundtrack of the struggle to get out of a casket after being buried alive. When the track is done (real time 2:44, feels like 78:00) you’re exhausted and glad to be alive, with ears to listen to this beautiful shit. I’m not sure I can handle the new album, Summer of Fear, but here’s to trying.
