A whole lot o' nothing. And then some….

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TIFF 2013

It’s been a different kind of TIFF for the Green Room girls. Lots of sponsors, eagerly awaiting their close-ups, and a lot less stars. Or, rather, less stars ready, willing or able to hang our with the civilians. They come in like exotic animals, surrounded by handlers and managers and hangers-on, and, a quick sip later they’re gone, leaving nothing but fairy dust and frazzled publicists in their wake.

Still, I did manage to catch a few flicks as well as a few glimpses of those ethereal, elusive creatures we know as celebs…

THE 5TH ESTATE

You know, the one about Julian Assange. The WikiLeaks movie. Great performances, interesting film, mediocre movie. Less Social Network and more made-for-tv. But still worth seeing. On Netflix. Or an airplane. Or if there’s nothing else to see (which, going into fall, I find hard to believe.). But the awesomely named Benedict Cumberbatch lived up to the expectations of his Cumberbitches (yeah, he has those) and was terrific. Daniel Bruhl was no slouch either.

Benedict

THE RAILWAY MAN

Colin Firth wasn’t nearly as friendly as he’s been in recent years. Maybe because he’s hungry? He looked awfully thin. And speaking of thin, Nicole Kidman breezed in and out, posing with sponsors and doing her job. I actually felt a bit badly for her, as the second she walked into the room she was mobbed. She really is a delicate flower! With magnificent skin. Whatever’s she’s done has been worth every penny. A beauty. Unlike the film. The true story upon which it was based is extraordinary, and I have no doubt the book was spectacular. But the epilogue card had more emotional resonance than the two hours that preceded it. A shame.

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PARKLAND

This docu-drama is set in the aftermath of the JKF assassination. It’s about all the minor players: the doctors and nurses who worked on the president, as well as his shooter; Robert Oswald, the brother of Lee Harvey; a man who filmed the entire thing on his super-8 camera; the secret service detail, etc. I was pleasantly surprised by this one, considering the big draw was…Zac Efron.

Zac Ephron

Baby Efron

He was one of the excellent ensemble. And he had more babysitters in the Green Room than I’d ever seen. Bodyguards, publicists, and more bodyguards. A mini, girlier, Rob Lowe, he didn’t do it for me. Unlike Tom Welling, the tall gorgeous man being ignored at the bar. Re-ow! Smallville’s Clark Kent is nothing short of stunning – and sweet and modest to boot! Superman indeed.

Pic doesn't do him justice. Super stunning superman....

No, it’s not Ryan Seacrest. It’s Super Stunning Superman. Pic doesn’t do him justice.

MANDELA

Idris Elba. Idris Elba. Idris Elba. Word is this is one extraordinary performance among several in the sure-to-be Oscar bait, Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom. My mother couldn’t stop raving about the man, the movie, the cast. Sadly, it’s one of the few gala films I missed! Green roomed, yes, but didn’t catch the film. Loser.

Two hugely enthusiastic thumbs up from my mother!

Two hugely enthusiastic thumbs up from my mother!

WORDS & PICTURES

Speaking of losers….this was a dud. An interesting conceit, yes: which has more power: words or pictures? Set up a competition between two flawed teachers at a New England prep school and, well, you can guess what happens. Students are inspired, teachers are transformed, people fall in love, and they all agree that both are intensely powerful, just like love itself. Blah blah blah. Saccharine-sweet, with few surprises. There were several witty bits, but they got lost within the sentimental tone that defined this. Clive Owen was charming – on screen and in person, despite his current moustache.Yeah, it’s not Movember, but he’s sporting a ‘stache. Somewhat Clouseau-esque but he can pull it off. Kind of.

MOAM 'n 'Stache Owen

MOAM ‘n ‘Stache Owen

RUSH
Wow. Daniel Bruhl – our guy from the 5th Estate – steals the show as serious-as-a-heart-attack Austrian Nicki Lauda. Drop dead gorgeous Chris Hemsworth is dashing Brit playboy/partier James Hunt. ¿Quién es más macho? Loud, sexy, intense and true, it’s Formula 1 racing drama in the 70’s. Beautifully shot, superbly done and, while not perfect, is a damn fine flick. Verrrry manly, yes, but I liked it too. A great story and a big-screen must see.

Zoinks! Stu-nning!

Zoinks! Stu-nning!

 

Bruhl ruled the Galas....

Bruhl ruled the Galas….

 

Also fun was the star-packed greenroom….Just not with the stars of the movie!

Jason Sudeikis was there to support his gorgeous fiancee, Olivia Wilde. And guess what? He’s gorgeous too!

Clearly NOT his wife. What? He was cracking me up!

Clearly NOT his wife. Nor my best shot. What? He was cracking me up!

And Chris Hemsworth had his hot family around him. He’s the middle brother of 3. It took a while for most of us to figure out who was who. Luckily his magnificent wife Elsa Pataky was able to set us straight!!

 

Yes, it runs in the family.

The youngest, Liam. Yes, it runs in the family.

 

AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY

Yes, I saw it. Yes, it was brilliant. The writing! The performances! Breathtaking!!! This one’s guaranteed Oscar bait, no question.

So why didn’t I cry?!

Maybe it was too theatrical. Too much in the head and not enough in the heart? I don’t know. I appreciated it as a piece of work, but didn’t have the visceral reaction I thought I would.

My old doppelganger Dylan McDermott was there, as was Juliet Lewis. Ewan MacGregor? Still got it. And Julia Roberts?!?!? Always has, always will.

Love.

Love.

 

Still more to come! Stay tuned……

 

 

 

 

 

 

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September 11, 2013   No Comments

MOAM Book Club

Summer is almost over….But before you pack in your flipflops and break out your boots, here are some good reads to get you through to Labor/Labour Day and beyond….

THE MIDDLESTEINS by Jami Attenberg

A Jewish family living in the burbs outside Chicago never mention the one thing no one can stop thinking about: Edie Middlestein’s obsession with food and eating. She’s massive. And will die if she doesn’t do something about it. So she emotional eats. When Edie’s husband of over thirty years ups and leaves her, the rest of the family must band together to save itself. This smart, funny, and quick-paced novel is told from each of the Middlestein’s points of view as they try to figure out how to save Edie – or who to blame.

THE INTERESTINGS by Meg Wolitzer

This author is very zeitgeisty for me. I over-identify with so many of her characters and/or the premises of her books that I have to read them all. I don’t always adore them, but I always find them, well, interesting! This one centers around a group of creative people who met at sleepover camp. Who will end up where? Doing what? It follows them as they live out their lives in shockingly unexpected, totally interesting and even decidedly boring ways…

THE OCEAN AT THE END OF THE LANE by Neil Gaiman

Cue the s-s-s-s-s-cary music, ‘cuz this one is creepy and magical and beautiful all at the same time. A man revisits the house he grew up in, and memories of childhood come flooding back. From mysterious deaths of neighbours young and old (and feline) to the terrifying nanny who is not at all what she appears to be. Only the house of women at the end of the lane can save him. A fantastical tale of childhood innocence lost and found. It’s billed as being for kids and adults but, while beautiful, it’s also nightmarish. Ssssspppoooooky!!!

ELEANOR & PARK by Rainbow Rowell

I love a good love story. Especially a first-love love story. And a doomed one? Even better!!! This one, set in the late 80’s – in high school – doesn’t disappoint. Two misfits from two staggeringly different worlds are all alone in their lives – they think – until stars cross and they find each other. This book felt like a cross-cultural John Hughes movie. Read it. Enjoy it. Don’t wait for the flick. No doubt it’s on its way.

DEFENDING JACOB – William Landay
RECONSTRUCTING AMELIA: A NOVEL – Kimberley McCreight

I lumped these two together because both are legal thrillers. Both have young protagonists. And both are about lawyer parents trying to get to the bottom of a death in which their child may or may not be involved.

Amelia’s mother, Kate, gets a call that her daughter had been caught cheating at her exclusive Brooklyn school. By the time she reaches the gates, her daughter is dead. An apparent suicide. Then Kate receives an anonymous text: “She didn’t jump” Flashbacks, texts, and facebook postings tell alternating stories of Amelia, her friends, and her “friends”. Only her mother’s sheer determination can figure out exactly what happened to her beloved daughter.

And then there’s Jacob. Jacob’s Dad, Andy, is an assistant DA called in when a local kid is found dead. It’s the end of the innocence for this bucolic New England town, and Andy vows to find the boy’s killer. Until his own 14-year old son is charged with the crime. The more Andy uncovers, the more he wonders how well he really knows his own son – and himself. Suspense, betrayal, loyalty…I smell a potboiler!!!

THE NEWLYWEDS by Nell Freudenberger

What would’ve been called a mail-order bride is now an e-mail order bride when a young Bangladeshi woman moves across the planet to marry a man in Rochester NY. Their newlywedded bliss is soon interrupted as secrets from both sides come pouring out. Will they keep it together, together? Should they? A quiet, moving, extremely well-written book that captures the experience of strangers in a strange land. Even in their homelands….

THE DINNER by Herman Koch

Theatre alert! This one reads like a play. A dramatic, sibling-rivalry-ridden, angsty, dramatic play. A morality play. Two families get together over dinner to discuss a spot of trouble their sons have got in together. And shit happens. Lots of it. Parenting values, politics, and family “values” are examined – and skewered. Great bait for dinner party conversation…

Z: A NOVEL OF ZELDA FITZGERALD by Therese Anne Fowler
This is exactly what it says it is! It’s the Jazz Age. Rebellious debutante and southern belle Zelda is plucked from her small Alabama life by dashing army captain F Scott Fitzgerald and the rest, is history. Crazy, bittersweet, legendary history. The depiction of the “Jazz Age”, the international literary world and the passionate and destructive personalities within it makes it tragic and gripping even though we know the ending right from the start.

LIFE AFTER LIFE by Kate Atkinson

We all have those Sliding Doors/Groundhog Day moments: how would you live your life differently? Does each moment, each decision, and each chance encounter colour your future? Kate Atkinson deftly explores these themes in this best-selling novel. If you could live your life over and over again, how would it turn out? Good question. I liked, didn’t love, this one. But I may be alone in that consensus.

ME BEFORE YOU by Jojo Moyes

High-flying, great looking, successful banker has it all – until a fluke motorcycle accident shatters his life. And his spinal column. Needless to say, he is miserable. When a young local girl is hired as his caregiver, she finally breaks through and devises a plan to help him actually enjoy his life. Will it work? Will you care? Readers are obsessed with this book so I daren’t omit it from my list! But, truth be told, it left me kinda cold.

Happy rest-of-summer! Happy reading! And please – recommendations are always welcome!

August 19, 2013   No Comments

KIWI CRATE

Kiwi4

As many of you know, I am often sent stuff to review on my site. As many of you may not know, I only review the stuff I actually like. Yes, I’ll diss something lame, but not if it’s sent over gratis. That’s just rude.

Last week a box arrived from Kiwi Crate.. Y’know when you’re done? You don’t want to play, you don’t want to fight over not-playing, and you don’t really want to reach for the remote (even though you know you will)? This is for those times. Kiwi Crate sends your 3-7 year old a monthly activity box filled with environmentally-friendly, crafty projects your child can do – with or without you.

Ours came addressed to my almost-5 year old and he was immediately intrigued. As well he should be! When we opened this little shoebox a world of wonder – no joke – lay inside. And by “wonder” I mean a serious time killer, in the best possible way.

My guy immediately got to work on decorating a reusable bag. Everything he/we needed was the box: flower/leaves for printmaking, washable ink, the reinforced paper bag, putty to make his own stamper. He wouldn’t let me help even if I wanted to.

Box o fun!

Box o fun!

This wasn’t your ordinary do-it-yourself stamp pad. With this he actually fashioned the stamper and – get this – when he was done he peeled off the tiny wildflower, poked a hole in the top of the “stamp” and let it dry. Voila: a necklace!

But the fun didn’t stop there. He was obsessed. And this is a boy who doesn’t sit still. Ever. Unless there are animated characters on a screen in front of him. The next morning he was up early, making his own paper.

Kiwi 2

Kiwi 1

While the greeting cards didn’t quite work out – because he refused to let me help him – making a mess of coloured stuff that looked and felt like paper was equally exciting. There’s a handy help-o-meter attached to each project, just so you know what you’re getting into. In our case, there was minimal adult involvement required (and none available) and it still worked out. And just when you think you/your child is done, they even throw in some extra low-maintenance ideas if you’re ever looking to get crafty.

Kiwi3

They do single crates, party favor crates, even a “no-fight” sibling add-on option. And, until May 12th, they do discounts! Take advantage of our very own special MOAM reader offer: 25% off the first month of a new subscription (not valid on sibling add-ons) by entering Promo Code “maven25” at www.kiwicrate.com

At $220 for an annual subscription, or $19.95/month, it ain’t cheap. But having your child amuse him/herself in a creative way for a solid couple of hours? That’s priceless.

May 8, 2013   No Comments

MOAM BOOK CLUB

Readers, I apologize. It’s been many months since my last Book Club. But don’t fret. We’ve had a long Canadian winter, and I’ve read a shitload of books. Herewith, quite a few of the faves.

(and yes, Virginia, you can buy them directly from this site, right here, right now. Simply click on the image of book!)

BRING UP THE BODIES
WOLF HALL
by Hilary Mantel
These are two massive historical novels. These are two Booker winners. These are two beyond brilliant stories about Thomas Cromwell before and during the reign of King Henry VII – and Anne Boleyn. They’ll have you puzzled: everyone’s named Thomas. They’ll have you intimidated – page count is way past what’s comfortable. They’ll have you googling up a storm – unless you know your Tudors from your Stuarts. They’ll leave you breathless.

CANADA by Richard Ford
The year is 1960. When his parents are arrested after a bank robbery gone wrong, a 15-year old boy goes on the lam…to Canada. Fans of Richard Ford will love this epic sweeper of a story. And those who aren’t fans yet, will be when they finish this lyrical novel about a family falling apart.

THE ART OF FIELDING by Chad Harbach
A baseball novel about a surprising college star. Twists, turns, and so much more than bats, balls and gloves.And boys. It was a riveting read and I couldn’t put it down. (And yes, I’m surprised I loved it too!)

THE SONG OF ACHILLES by Madeline Miller
Who doesn’t love a good Greek Myth? To know and love the Greek Gods is to know and love all their infighting and sexual escapades. This is a new twist on the story of Achilles and the Trojan War. Modern tone, classic tale. Fabulous.

WHERE’D YOU GO, BERNADETTE? by Maria Semple
15-year-old Bee’s mom is a freak: an artist, a genius, a Seattle-loather. When she disappears on the eve of a trip to Antarctica to celebrate Bee’s straight-A average, Bee is determined to track her down. Hilarious. Original. Quirky. Unconventional. Don’t wait for the film (yes, it’s being adapted).

SWEET TOOTH by Ian McEwan
It’s the ’70’s. A love-torn Cambridge student drops out to join British Intelligence. Espionage. Cold War. Romance. Seduction. Cultural warfare?? It’s a page-turner. And it’s Ian McEwan. It can’t get much better than this.

ONE LAST THING BEFORE I GO -Jonathan Tropper
Jonathan Tropper kills me. And while this isn’t his best, he has such a way with words. And his characters? Too much. This time it’s a rock star. Or, rather, a has-been drummer, who is now broke, down on his luck and require life-saving surgery. The man who can save his life is his ex-wife’s fiancee and his somewhat estranged Princeton-bound daughter is pregnant. He’s got a lot to deal with. If he makes it.

THE SUBMISSION by Amy Waldman
An anonymous submission process for a memorial to victims of a terrorist attack results in the selection of a mysterious Muslim-American architect. A timely post-9/11 novel for a divided country. It divided readers too, though I thought it was fantastic, moving and super sharp.

THE END OF YOUR LIFE BOOK CLUB by Will Schwalbe
When journalist Will Schwalbe’s extraordinary and dynamic mother is diagnosed with cancer, they bond over books during during her chemo treatments. Sounds hokey, but this is a truly inspiring and lovely memoir about a mother, her son, and the power of reading.

THE TWELVE TRIBES OF HATTIE by Ayana Mathis
Hattie escapes Georgia for a better life up north. This book starts in the 1920’s with the birth of her first children. It’s a devastating start to a devastating life. Each chapter is told from the point of view of subsequent children. Bleak, dark, and beautifully written, Oprah claimed it for her book club, and I’m claiming it for mine.

TIGERS IN RED WEATHER by Liza Klaussmann
Two cousins, so close they’re like sisters. Or are they? One follows her WW2 vet husband to steamy Florida. The other heads off to Hollywood. Over the course of 12 years we follow them as their dreams unfold and disappear, until they eventually reunite, children in tow, at the family beach house where there’s been a murder. Melodrama at its finest.

THE WORLD WITHOUT YOU by Joshua Henkin
A clan gathers to remember a fallen son, a journalist killed in action in Iraq. Identity crises abound and secrets spill as the parents try to deal with the future of their marriage, the sisters try to understand who they’ve become and the widow tries to contemplate her future. Classic American family drama…at the cottage.

And, for those looking for some simple beach reads, these are a sliver above the usual cheese. Fluffy, yes, but a little over-identification goes a long way when it comes to quick ‘n easy reads!

BEAUTIFUL RUINS by Jess Walter
Starts in Italy in the ’60’s, where a young Italian fisherman meets falls a glamorous American actress. Meanwhile, 50 years later, the story, and several others, continue in Hollywood…

PROSPECT PARK WEST by Amy Sohn
Cheating parents. Klepto Oscar winners. Sexually confused mothers. Real estate obsessives. Just another day in the life in Prospect Park. White people’s problems? You betcha. And if you’re really into it, there’s even a sequel: Motherland….

Meanwhile, over in Tribeca….

TRIBURBIA by Karl Greenfield.
Mommy fiction. For dads. These are hipster Daddies, sorting out their shit. Rich people’s problems? Absolutely. So?

May 1, 2013   No Comments

Canyon Ranch

I’ve just returned from a week at Canyon Ranch Spa in Tuscon, Arizona with my mom and step-sister. I was looking forward to it – mostly because I’d be away. And it would be warm. But Other People? They were delirious on my behalf, extolling the joys and wonders of the place with almost cult-like adoration. My mother made the plan a year ago. My step sister had been counting down the days. Envious friends gave me pointers – the best classes, the best treatments, the Mongolian Salmon. Me? I viewed it with a sense of trepidation. I’d been there 25 years ago and, aside from hanging with my pal Jayne and doing meditative breathing with Yoko Ono, the highlights were few and far between.

Camp Canyon Ranch

Camp Canyon Ranch

I remembered a kibbutz-like place with cheesy Southwestern furnishings and dark carpets. A dining room with faux-alcoholic drinks and fitness cheese. Portion control and aerobics. Handwriting analysis and cooking demos. Feeling the burn inside and out.

Those were the late 80’s. Those days are done.

After being there for a week and being home for all of 3 days, I can safely say: I’ve been Ranched.

Canyon Ranch in 2013 is no mere fat farm. In fact, I think I gained weight (OK, I know I did but I’m pretending it’s muscle!). While it still retains it’s kibbutz-meets-summer camp vibe, the rooms have been updated and the decor is charming. As if it even matters – you’re never inside.

Pool with a view.

View from the pool.

Portion control has been replaced with All You Can Eat: salad and pasta bars, breakfast buffet and omelet station. And if the calorie count and nutrition data on the menus doesn’t stop you, sharing meal after meal cruise-style (lamb chops for the table!) most certainly will.

Aerobics? Bah! No feeling the burn in these classes. You’re feeling the music: DJ Dance Party (with live DJ), World Beat (live drummers), Long & Lean Barre Class (live leg shakes). Zumba (live hot instructors). Spin and stretch. Cardio Combat. TRX ‘n Flex. Yoga. Pilates. Straight up cardio machines and weight rooms. There’s something for every body. Morning walks, hikes and bike rides.

Kinda proud. Kinda scared.

Kinda proud. Kinda scared.


A long way up....A long way down...

A long way up….A long way down…

And then there are the treatments. I was scrubbed, rubbed and…um…tugged. Salt exfoliation. Deep tissue manipulation. Lazy Yoga Thai Massage. I was whacked with herbal poultices, Loofah’d with dried Ayurvedic herbs and Infused with oxygen. I even had 20 minutes worth of hot oil dripped on to my hair and scalp.

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Hot tubs. Cold pools. Eucalyptus inhalation. Alpine steam. Sauna. Swimming. Even shopping! With a high end boutique and a Ranch General Store, our nights were busy with browsing. And Bingo.

The week we were there the average age hovered around 67. So, naturally I felt very young, fit and spry. No celebs (that we knew of), nothing too fancy. Early to bed. Early to rise. Good, clean living. Topped off with a cookie-of-the-day. Every day.

As the week went on, our extended group planned for next year. I humoured them, knowing more exotic, exciting and far flung locales awaited me. Or at least Miami.

And then I came home. And now? Listening to the raindrops and the hum of my heating I’m surfing their site and planning my next visit.

Yup, I’ve been Ranched.

Giving our Canadian "spring" The Finger.

Giving our Canadian “spring” The Finger.

April 10, 2013   No Comments

BUMPED!

Everyone has their air travel horror stories. And I get it: shit happens. But what happens when a family of 5 with three young kids can’t book seats together? They get bumped, that’s what.

This isn’t the “bump” of yesteryear, where volunteers are called upon and rewarded with free flights, hotels, food. This is a completely arbitrary bump. A bump that began at check-in and didn’t stop: for nearly 7 hours.

When we arrived at YYZ for our flight to Puerto Vallarta, my Man and I and our 3 boys (ages 4, 7, and 9) were a little tense. We’d reserved seats together but when I went to check-in online, I saw that we’d been scattered across the plane. Instead of printing the boarding passes then and there, I figured we’d deal with it at the airport. Big mistake.

At the desk, the agent told us he’d found us seats together in the back. But before he could print the boarding passes, he informed us that there was a weight restriction on the plane. Meaning:
a) headwinds were heavy so extra fuel was needed and, therefore, something had to give
b) there was cargo that had priority.
c) They needed a way to re-route travelers stranded by “Nemo”

(We would go on to get different answers at each stop.)

Regardless, we were reassured the gate would take care of us, seat us together and send us on our merry way. After all, and yeah, I quote: “no one wants to sit beside kids”.

Then he stuck STANDBY tags on our bags. I knew we were doomed. But rather than admit it, and let us try to sort something out, he urged us to “stay positive” and deal with it at the desk.

Bumped to the gate. Which was already packed with irate passengers, but no one from Air Canada. I grabbed a spot in the line. 30 minutes after the gate was due to open, an agent arrived. One by one passengers were told they were on stand-by and to take a seat in the lounge until they were paged. When it was my turn, I asked if there was any chance our family would get on that plane. The response was, at least, an honest one: not likely. I was bumped to Customer Service.

While my Man chased, corralled, fed and entertained our three sons, even the other bumpees felt our pain. No one wants to sit beside kids on the plane, sometimes not even their own parents! But when they’re stuck with them in the terminal, they’re all friendly babysitters.

Post-bump calm before the re-book storm.

Post-bump calm before the re-book storm.

I was one of the lucky ones. After 45 minutes in line at Customer Service, I reached the agent. It started off swell. She informed me she’d get us to PVR via Chicago. We’d be on a flight to O’Hare first thing the next day, with 45 minutes to catch the connector. “Ummm…don’t they close the gate 30 minutes before departure?” I asked.

Oops.

The agent then spent another 20 minutes trying to find us a different flight to Chicago. She refused to put us up in a local Chicago hotel – until I overheard the agent at the next counter offer to put up another Mexico-bound couple up in Houston. She relented and offered us a night in Chi-Town. Fun! Adventure! Right? Wrong. In the time it took the other agents to re-book passengers via Houston (and Dallas and San Francisco) ours still couldn’t confirm us. And when, another 25 minutes later, she suggested that we leave the area and head to United Airlines’ ticket counter to confirm the flight, I lost it. A manager arrived and I burst into tears. I’d been waiting by that counter for well over an hour by this point. My kids were running riot. Everyone else was being re-booked and we were stuck.

After all, it was hard enough to rebook a pair of tickets, let alone a party of 5!

Then my Man arrived. Bad Cop to my Good. Complete gender stereotypes. While I played nice and eventually broke down and cried, he barged up to the counter guns a-blazing. He’s a very tall fellow. With an exceptionally loud voice. And he lost in. Completely. And when he started in on our agent, her colleague advised her to ignore him and threatened to call security. At this point, our agent begged off, saying she needed to leave. To catch a flight perhaps?? I’m sure she was just as exhausted as we were – only she was being paid and part of the customer service department while we were the paying customers not getting any service.

And then something clicked. Two managers took over. And, after much more ado and another hour of furious typing and kids now wrestling at my feet, we were blessed with a direct flight the next day. From YYZ. They gave us $100 in food vouchers – and then took back half of them. When they heard about the +5-hour backlog at park ‘n fly, they sweetened the pot with return car service from the airport and back again. I had to remind them that every other passenger had been offered compensation to the tune of $200 off future travel with Air Canada. After checking with someone else (another 15 minutes) they sent us off with promises that our 5 travel vouchers would be emailed to me ASAP. So far, I’ve only received 4.

What airline bumps a party of 5?? In a hellish prime-time travel situation? Deuces and triples were being rerouted within minutes. And singles had no issue whatsoever! But our motley group of 3 under-9’s plus parents? Turfed.

And now, instead of tacos and tequila on the beach, we’re at home with an empty fridge. We’re battle-weary, but trying to stay positive – all the while on hold with Air Canada to find our missing voucher and inquire about compensation for our lost hotel night.

After 2 hours and 57 minutes of being on-hold (speakerphone), they answered! I was to write an email asking for the missing voucher and any further reimbursement. There was nothing they could do.

Bumped again.

It’s been a long day.

February 11, 2013   No Comments

UBER: If you click it, they will come….

For the past few months, in lieu of taxis, my Man and I have been grabbing UBER cars whenever we hit the town. UBER is a San Fran-based service that has spread its wheels to Toronto and beyond. And it’s fabulous.

Basically, you download the app, or register with their website. Then, anytime you need a ride you click and they send. You choose whether you want a Black Car (aka Town Car), a 3-row SUV, or a plain ol’ taxi. You’ll get a confirmation text within seconds, followed by a call from the driver giving you the ETA. While they use GPS to find you, you can stalk/track your car so you know exactly how much time you have before it shows up.

Cleaner, more efficient and downright sexier than your regular street-side stinky cab, once you go UBER, it’s hard to go back. They’re a bit pricier (about 25% with tip included) but well worth it to arrive in style (and not smell like diesel. Or someone else’s supper). Best of all, you can “hail” an UBER car from anywhere – restaurant, bar, house or street corner. And you can send your babysitter home in it to if you need to. The GPS ensures everyone gets home safe and sound. It’s your very own, on-call chauffeur!

To sweeten the deal, MOAM readers get a special treat! First time users who register at www.uber.com by the end of Feb will enjoy $20 off their first Black Car ride (valid Feb and March). Go online or download the app and enter promo code: MOAMTORONTO

Your chariot awaits!

lincoln-town-car-2

February 6, 2013   No Comments

Haymishe Bakery

I am a huge fan of Haymishe Bakery. And I am devastated by this:

photo-13d

Last Sunday morning saw Bracha’s bakery going up in smoke. The flatbreads. The dips. The flatbreads. The salads. The gluten-free goodness.

Did I mention the flatbreads?? I’ve been known to travel with them. And for them. To bring them as gifts. To subsist on them during times of trouble, emotional eating, and pregnancy.

Try as I might to come up with an appropriate send off, I think there is only one way to possibly honour such a beloved institution. In song. And in tune. Tempted as I am to make my MOAM singing debut, I simply don’t have the balls. Send enough “likes” my way, however, and I’ll do it. How’s that for interactive fun for all?

In the meantime, sing among yourselves (to the tune of “American Pie”):

HAYMISHE BAKERY

Not so long ago
I can still remember how those prices used to make me cry….
And I knew if I had my chance
I’d turn a trick, or do a dance
And maybe get a discount, worth a try….

But the last weekend in January made me shiver
No more challahs, or chopped liver.
Bad news on our doorstep,
There wouldn’t be one more shlep.

I can’t remember if I cried when I
Read about those cakes and pies.
Something touched me deep inside
The day, the flatbreads died….

CHORUS
So bye bye, Haymishe Bakery – why??
Drove up Bathurst to quench my thirst
For that gluten-free rye.
Free breads, veggie spreads, and homemade treats all straight to my thighs
Their poppy flatbreads were the best- just to die.
What-a-bagel’s aren’t the same I can’t lie…

Did you try the shnitzel too?
Or that spicy tofu eggplant stew.
Different soups there everyday…
San Fran Morning Glory bread
Or quinoa salad that sits like lead
Garlic spreads were there to stay…

Well I know Bracha screamed and yelled but she
Had a knack for the good hard sell
Her ladies didn’t mind
Keeping all the good stuff behind

If you’re a hungry child with a yen for spelt
Or need millet buns for tuna melt
No more need to loosen up your belt
The day the flatbreads died…

CHORUS

More than 10 years in that parking lot
If you’re not careful you might get caught
Scratching up your car it happens fast.
Get in and out, don’t score a deal
Grab something extra for your meal
Their sufganiyot, well they don’t last

And tho’ it seems like Bracha’s down
No one could take away her crown
The queen of yeast-free bread
Or take a sliced bubka instead…

And while other bakeries come and go
Some even supplied by Haymishe y’know
I’d brave rain, sleet, hail or snow
But now, the flatbreads died…

CHORUS

I’m just a girl, who’s singin’ the blues
No more flatbreads ain’t good news
I can’t smile, when I drive that way…
I went past the sacred store
Where I bought my baked just the day before
But the sign there said the shop had gone away.

On Bathurst street, brakes screeched and screamed
The eaters cried and the bingers dreamed
Nothing left, not even a token.
No more bread to be broken.

The 3 things that I enjoyed the most
Pletzels, shnitzles, dips on toast.
Now it’s just Nortown for a roast
The day the flatbreads died….

January 29, 2013   No Comments

Clean Machine

Earlier this fall, a friend approached me about joining her in a group cleanse with Dr. Jodi Larry. Yes, another cleanse. The difference with this one was, unlike Isagenix or the various juice cleanses out there, it was an eating cleanse. My initial response was absolutely not! I didn’t like groups. I didn’t want to “share” or, rather, I didn’t want to listen to other people sharing. I didn’t want to pay when I could do it on my own. And most of all, I didn’t want to cut out my coffee.

She confessed she’d been hesitant as well but after hearing another mutual friend singing the praises of Dr. Jodi’s “Cleanse for Life”, she had to try it. We’d both read all the Facebook updates from past participants and the FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) was killing her. I had to admit my curiosity, too, was piqued.

Still, I declined. For about 2 days. Then I read some testimonials and signed right up. I was ready to start immediately. I’d been cranky and anxious and suffering with back pain for months. Could this be the cure-all I was looking for?? And – icing on the cake – would I drop a few lbs?

I had to wait until we assembled a group. People joined. They dropped out. We all friended each other, as well as Dr. Jodi, on FB. We discussed what was allowed and what wasn’t. Some us (me) binged on spareribs and diet coke. Some of us (me) switched to decaf. And then, it was time.

What follows is my day-to-day account, written during the 11 days of Cleanse for Life…..

Pre-Cleanse:

We met with Dr. Jodi. Down to earth, smart and relatable, she made me feel like I could conquer this cleanse with ease. She did, however, warn me that my seemingly innocuous penchant for chemical sweeteners would not be easy to get over. I was a diet-pop-a-day girl. I also had a coffee (with splenda) every morning, plus the other “half” (with another splenda) mid-morning. Most afternoons you’d find me with a cup of tea (with splenda). I guess I was more addicted than I’d thought.

We were given workbooks, and a checklist of “symptoms” to think about privately. Dr Jodi explained liver functionality, reasons to cut out certain foods and integrate others, and what we could expect over the next 11 days.

And then we went shopping.

Armed with cacao nibs, chia seeds, steel cut oats and organic foods we were off to cook and prep. And fret.

Day 1 (Monday): I awake to the daily email from Dr. Jodi. This cleanse is gonna be a piece of gluten-free, sugar-free cake. I’m excited. It seems to be all food, all the time. But no gum. Which is kinda freaking me out. I feel like I might be walking around in a garlic fog….Otherwise, the next ten days are gonna be a cinch, once I get my head around the concept of “good” fat. Coconut anything, nuts, avocado. I’ve been brainwashed and to me, fat is still fat. Luckily for me, salt is still salt. Sea salt is allowed and I’ve been grinding up a storm.

DAY 2 (Tuesday): Aaaaand, I spoke too soon. I wake up pissed. Mad at the group, the good Dr Jodi, the world. I’m jonesing for something. I need my stuff. Holy shit – is this my food rehab? I remind myself that Jodi warned us: those of us who may – or may not -be splenda addicts have it the worst. It’s a toxin parade here in Carolyn’s Body. The Dr. is out. Diet Dr. Pepper, that is. This chemical withdrawal is hell. I’m talking to you too, Splenda. Shaky, dizzy, hot ‘n cold, nauseous. Dr. Jodi emails me, reassures me that this too shall pass. All the tea and water in the world isn’t helping. Tho a double whammy of steel cut oats and a couple of tylenol sure did.

DAY 3 (Wednesday): Queasy. If I didn’t have my period I’d swear I was pregnant! Moving slowly, carefully. Dr Jodi checks in on me, tells me to remember this time as it will ensure I don’t return to the evil that is chemical sweetness. As the day goes on I start to feel a bit better. I drink a coconut water and find it almost unbearably sweet – almost. Still chugged back the entire can. By 4PM I’m feeling way better. Very calm. Maybe too calm? I like to be a little perkier.

DAY 4 (Thursday): Good morning sunshine! I feel great! Lemon water and cayenne have left me a little uneasy, but mostly because I didn’t follow up with breakfast. Went to my monthly Weight Watchers weigh in (old habits die hard) and it was all could do to not sweep aside all their products, decrying them as poison. Turns out I’ve lost 2 pounds already!! I stay for the meeting and listening to everyone talking about diet pop and splenda freaks me out. That evening we meet up as a group with Dr Jodi. We go around the room and discuss what’s happening to our bodies, ourselves. The learning curve is steep, but I get it. And I love it.

DAY 5 (Friday): Constipation. That’s my theme of today. Feeling better overall, but a bit…um…plugged. Also that feeling of calm? Gone with the wind (and speaking of wind…too many lentils perhaps??) I can’t seem to stay warm. Winter weather? Or something more? I take a bath with epsom salts and feel pukey afterwards. Could this be more toxin release? Now? Apparently not. I make chicken for dinner and my appetite returns with a vengeance. I eat with gusto – as always. And then I pass out at 9. When was the last time that happened??

DAY 6 (Saturday): I wake up after an 11-hour sleep. Wow. I skip my newly beloved steel cut oats with bananas, berries and almond milk. 2 minutes in the micro with a splash of maple syrup and some chia seeds. Divine. And instead I opt for buckwheat cereal this morning. Not for me….Grey and sludgey. What is for me, however, is the sauteed spinach with eggs I make for lunch. I kind of overcook the eggs but they’re still delicious. Saturday night I’m flying solo and I’m prowling the kitchen. I think of Dr Jodi reminding us that this is one weekend out of the entire year. And then I make quinoa cookies. And yeah, those two words don’t match on screen, on paper, or in my oven. Swing and a miss.

Day 7 (Sunday): It’s not looking good: 3 little boys. An out-of-town husband. And a lot of rain. Gross. The fact that I don’t eat my way through it is a miracle. This could be the longest day of my life. Let’s leave it at that.

Day 8, 9, 10 (Mon, Tues, Wed): As we head into the final stage of the cleanse, I start getting tense. I feel great, energized and happy. You know the kick you look for in a cup of coffee? I found it au naturel! But I’m panicking. What if it disappears? How can I maintain? I know there’s a post-cleanse equation (80% good, 20% free) but what does that actually mean? I do my own little equation: if we eat 21 meals a week, does that mean I can open the fatty floodgates for 4 of them? That’s 20%, right? Or is it a little bit of parmesan here, a little drop of ketchup there? I haven’t been hungry at all during this cleanse, but I am missing my accoutrements – the sprinkle of cheese, the soy sauce glaze, the tomato sauce. I need some zest – but how much is too much?

And dairy? I know we’re the only animals that drink another animal’s milk – but we’re also the only animals that are able to drive cars and that don’t eat our young! Plus we’ve all seen the too-cute pics of the rejected little zoo babies suckling on dogs and pigs: they’re drinking someone else’s milk and I bet they’d love to cruise around in a set of shiny wheels rather than trot.

As you can see, living in the moment is wreaking havoc on my imagination.

Day 11 (Thursday). It’s the last day of the cleanse. I’ve finally managed to reconcile the good fat in an avocado or a handful of almonds and I’m feeling fab with a spring in my step. We meet with Dr Jodi for the last time (or so she thinks!!). We pull out our checklists from Day 1. For me, every single “symptom” I checked off that first day has shifted. No joke.

I’m well aware that it’s only been 11 days. Out of 44 years. Everything may change back, of course. But for now I feel, cheesy as it may sound, free. Free from the morning pre-coffee fog, the late afternoon haze, the kids’ bedtime storm – and any other meteorological metaphor you can think of. I’m awake. Wide awake all day long and well into the night. I feel lighter. Healthier. Happier. Nervous about how I’ll be able to sit through a movie without a medium popcorn and diet coke, but trying to live in the moment and enjoy.

At least until spring comes and I cleanse again!!

December 7, 2012   3 Comments

POMTASTIC GADGET

Every once in a while, I stumble across a random thingamajig. A gadget. A tool of some kind. Usually for my kitchen. And, more often than not, I’ll use it once – collapsible salad spinner, anyone? – and then store it.

Yesterday, however, I found something so awesome, so seemingly simple, so potentially genius (but potentially useless)… I had to buy ‘n try.

I’ve been heavily into pomegranates this fall. In salads, as a snack and especially in the morning. With pears, homemade granola and Greek yoghurt. Divine. And yeah, I’ve been buying them seeded. What kind of Philistine do you take me for? So I’ve been spending a bloody fortune rather than labour over seeds – and stains. These buggers end up everywhere. But not anymore…

Sometimes, written words simply aren’t enough. y’know?Certain things need to be seen to be believed. So….. check it out, my first VLOG!!!! Welcome to the future: The Mother Of All Mavens channel!!!

Welcome to the future: The Mother Of All Mavens channel!!!

November 10, 2012   1 Comment