The Early Reindeer Gets The Candy Cane

I don't believe that Christmas music should be an after-Halloween, or worse, post-American Thanksgiving thing at all. Once the first snow hits Montreal, my holiday music comes out. And that could be in August. So if you ever want to re-create part of my daily routine for the next two months, here's the step-by-step guide:

1. Place a breakable object near the edge of a desk. A water glass works well for this.
2. Kill any natural sense of rhythm and gross motor control you might possess.
3. Play this:
4. DANCE DANCE DANCE
5. Sweep up shards of glass

Repeat until you've been filled with the Christmas spirit, or at least a love of synthesizers.

Book Covers I Have Loved: Graham Greene's The Power And The Glory

There are a few topics I'm passionate about, or at least a few topics that make me corner people at parties in order to delivery a lecture. Often that lecture is incoherent and drunken, but whatever. I'm that way about my hatred of Ben Stein, my love of Roadhouse and my quest for the perfect hamburger.

And book design. I'm not a designer. I have more professional training about the content of a book than its packaging. But as the daughter of two librarians who spends more on books than food - and who actually sniffs them in a semi-creepy way - I feel I'm qualified to judge. Or at least rant.

Cover Illustrations: Richard Kenworthy

I still have the book that made me realize that sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. Here's an edition of Graham Greene's "The Power And The Glory" I bought when I was sixteen just because I was fascinated by the way it looked. All this pure space broken up by a busy, scrawled crucifix. The choice of fonts for the title, a retro-looking script, let me date the story without making it seem dated. Compare it with this edition of Sarah Waters' The Night Watch. While it's perfectly tuned to the period of the story, it makes this 2006 book seem fussy.

I took a chance, hoping that anything with a cover like that would be interesting. In a month, Graham Greene was my favorite author, I had The Third Man on reserve at the library, and I was stalking bookstores hoping to collect all of these editions. I'm still working on that project, but I'm hoping this post will be the start of a new one. Every two weeks I'll post a book cover I like, whether it's something I own or something I've furtively photographed in a store. I'll babble about why I like it, and I'll make sure there's no Chip Kidd allowed. Or at least as little as possible, because I swear a lot of his stuff's for people who like Sony Stores.*


*Okay, I'm being mean. But still.

Links To Entertain and Educate

Originally, I was going to write a long post today about street harassment, male privilege and more. Yes, I had yet another creepy run-in with some guy on the street last night. But after sleeping off my spleen, I just didn't want to. Maybe next week, when my bile is back at fighting levels, I'll get around to it. Until then, enjoy photographic evidence of my Indian adventures (matar paneer - paneer made by me, bitches! - saag and rice) and a few links.

I saw Whip It about two weeks ago, and thought it was a fun but predictable movie about doing what you love. Especially if it involves kicking ass on a roller derby track. But according to some dude in Psychology Today, it's really about being a big, old, clichéd lesbian. Fortunately, there's an awesome, line-by-line critique of why that analysis is a load of privileged crap.

I have a lot of respect for Richard Dawkins. Sure, he can be a little condescending here and there, but the man knows what he's talking about. He's got a new book out that's on my to-read list and an interview in Salon. Proof you can't take the professor out of the pundit: he keeps on correcting the interviewer's terminology.

For all you Montrealers out there: How zoning laws and police crackdowns might be bleeding all the fun out of Mile End. I'm somewhat entertained that there's a "Morality, Alcohol and Drug" squad. It's like they came up with an Anti-Fun Taskforce.

Since it's the season of spooky, here's James Hynes' list of the best Halloween stories. The post itself is funny and there's some interesting-looking stuff on it. I'll cop to only having read two of the things on the list, but that just means I have my reading sewn up until October.

Jimmy's Got A Binkie

Ah, the satisfaction of finishing a knitted project. It's a satisfaction I haven't felt much in the past year, to be honest, unless you count hats and socks. And if you do, I've still only felt it... four or five times.

The knitting shame. It itches. It itches like mohair. Still, I'm pretty proud of this blanket which was knit for the adorable Jimmy. I still haven't seen the kid in person, but if he's anywhere near as cute as the photos his mom's been sending me, he's a beautiful child. Definitely Gap Baby ad campaign-worthy.

Still, it was hard giving up the blanket. Donna is a lovely, crepe-y yarn to work with, especially if you're looking for a blend. As I carried it to the post office, I kept on squeezing it. I would knit myself a cardigan, but then I wouldn't get anything done at work. I would probably keep on stopping to, say, pet my arm.

Project: Argosy Baby Blanket
Yarn: Scheepjes Donna
Needles: 3.5mm circulars
Notes: I added a single crochet border instead of leaving it plain or going for that cro-kay hybrid Kay's Blanket used. I still find the edges curl a bit, but I'm pretty sure the baby won't care. Also, this thing is impossible to fold in a neat square for mailing. Damn its slight tilt towards being a parallelogram.

Adventures In Indian Cooking

Journey with me, if you will, back in time to January 2009. The world was still in love with Obama, Michael Jackson was still alive and nobody had ever heard of balloon boy*. I made my resolutions, flush with the promise of a new year. And one of them was to learn how to cook Indian food.

Now, as 2009 limps to a finish, it's time to see how I'm doing with that. I would show you pictures, but I'm actually fresh out of leftovers at the moment. Although, perhaps, that's for the best. Indian, while the tastiest to my palate, is really not the most photogenic of cuisines. There's a reason why whatever photos do exist usually include an artfully placed green pepper or two. And that's so we know the goo we're looking at is supposed to be for eating.

Tasty, tasty eating.

But I digress. Between graduating and moving, I didn't start on this resolution until a couple of months ago. Since then I've tried my hand at chicken korma, chana masala, safaid keema, dum aloo and tari aloo. Right now my dum aloo is awesome, my chana masala is pretty good and both my tari aloo and chicken korma are tasty but could use a thicker sauce. The less said about the unfortunate safaid keema incident ("It looks like finely spice baby diarrhea!"), the better. My spice collection has expanded and the limits of my cooking abilities have never been clearer. So here are my helpful tips, in case you want to clip n' save for your own Indian adventures.

1. That mystery bag of spice you've had in your kitchen since forever could be many things, but it is probably not garam masala. No matter how much you may wish it to be or even use it as such. The smart money is on it being nutmeg or cinnamon though.
   
2. To get real garam masala, you should head to a spice store or at least one of those tiny Indian food markets. If you're in a hurry and the only place you can hit on your lunch hour is the Provigo, you'll probably end up with a less than satisfactory substitute. I'm to embarassed to say what I'm using, but the initials of my shame are "C" and "H."
3. Trust the salt in Indian recipes, but no necessarily the oil.
   
4. Sometimes there simply isn't enough cornstarch in the world to fix a cooking mess
5. Cooking naan bread is never going to happen, so just grab the stuff from the fine folks at President's Choice and call it a night.
   

But I'm becoming more and more ambitious. Tomorrow I'm making a plain saag to use up some spinach in the fridge. Then I'm braving what will surely be the treacherous lands of paneer making as the first step towards matar paneer. And then- who knows? Maybe you'll see me building a real tandoori oven in the shared courtyard.


*Neither had I until I checked Twitter earlier today.

Zombieland: You Must Be This Dead To Ride

My Sketch Of Zombieland

I had an idea while watching Zombieland. Only two kinds of people are going to survive in the event of a zombie apocalypse. Those who kick ass, and those who are actuaries. Since actuaries spend all their time assessing risk, they'll know just what to do to avoid being chomped on.

The main character of Zombieland, Columbus, is a university student, not an actuary. But he may as well be one. In the prologue, he explains that America has become overwhelmed by zombies, but he managed to stay alive by following his system of rules. With points underlining the importance of cardio and not being a hero, he minimizes you chances of yelling "Don't do that stupid thing, stupid!" at the screen.

Eventually he meets up with Tallahassee, who has all the balls Columbus needs. Played by Woody Harrelson, he's on a mission to kill zombies and find Twinkies, and Columbus is along for the ride... or at least until they hook up with a set of grifter sisters. That's about where the movie comes to stop, even as the older sister catapults Columbus on his long-delayed trip through puberty.

After that, it feels like the spirits of George Romero and Judd Apatow are fighting for control of the body of director Ruben Fleischer. And Apatow wins, but in all the worst ways. In a long middle passage, almost no zombies have their heads bashed in - and absolutely NONE get disemboweled - while only one human becomes ground beef in a leaden celebrity cameo. Instead the group bonds together and tosses out one-liners. Following all the steps in the Apatow manual, they're the kind of lines that are only funny when delivered by the painfully awkward.

But that doesn't stop the little crew from making it to a theme park. And with the bright lights and loud noises, not to mention the shambling corpses, things become fun again. But it's a little too late to save this movie. I think it was bitten by something - an undead Seth Rogen? - and it's feeling a bit bitey, but very, very talky.

Rating: 3.5/5 zombie-bashing banjos

A Protagitron Brown Thanksgiving

It's turkey time here in Canada, which means I've already fired up the Christmas carols and started spamming my American friends in defense of holding Thanksgiving in October. At work we were supposed to say what we were thankful for, and the only thing I could come up with at the time was "Wine gums and reported rapes in the U.S. hitting a 20 year-low." But I was just being difficult. There's been plenty to be thankful for, in the past year and just in general.

So, in no particular order, here are 10 things I'm thankful for. I would feel guilty eating pumpkin pie without mentioning them.

1. My stinkmaster general cat for all the many joys he brings, but especially because he falls asleep against my arm while I type on the computer.
2. Coffee
3. My friends for being entertaining and educational good eggs with good fashion sense. Also, for frequently putting up with my bullshit.
   
4. My Dad, for doing the same while keeping me in letters and clippings
   
5. Smitty The Wonder Sheltie
6. Jimmy, the adorable new son of a couple of wonderful people
7. The amnesiac properties of beer
8. Feminist blogs like The Sexist
9. Gainful employment
   
10. But perhaps most of all, wine gums.
    

Wherever you are, even if it's someplace where Thanksgiving doesn't come around until November, I hope you have a good weekend with good friend, good people and plenty of gravy. Now if I could just perfect my wine gum stuffing recipe, I would be all set.

Fail On The Ice

So, remember how a few weeks ago I was all "Oh, I'm TOTALLY going to watch The Battle of the Blades because I love my cheese TV?" Well, Canada, I tried to. I tried to, but it was the most amateurish and awkward ten minutes I had ever wasted on any show. And I watched the entire season of Bachelorettes in Alaska: Looking for Love, so I know of what I speak.

It's hard to pick just one way in which the show failed. Maybe it was the Dancing With The Stars-like move of having the practiced, female partners gyrate suggestively to mask the fact that the male partners can't dance, or rather, skate? That Kurt Browning and Ron MacLean seemed perpetually out of breath?

No, it would be that Dick Button's scoring monitor didn't work. Yes, this crucial part of the show wasn't checked before the CBC put this thing live to air. No 6.0 for you, CBC.

The Good, The Bad and the Funny

And another good thing: this amazing birthday present I got from my old roommate Katie*. The books are A Tale of Two Cities, Jane Eyre, The Maltese Falcon, Ghost World, Anna Karenina, Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility. They're on top of a pile of birthday books from another amazing friend. Am I that predictable? Yes.

Man, sorry to let my angry screed about Roman Polanski stay up there for so long. I meant to post something else, but I then life kept on getting in the way. Except for Thursday, since that was Day 4 of Project: Protagitron becomes a hermit and there was just no excuse. So without further ado, three little things about last week:

1. The Good: There's been a lot of this lately. I did nothing but knit and watch movies, curled up next to my cat, for four days. I had an amusing run-in with an old crush object, proving I am genetically incapable of pretending not see one convincingly. And pretty much the whole weekend so far has been awesome, from having curry with friends to seeing one of them kick ass playing lacrosse. Those girls aren't quite as nasty as womens rugby, but they're still pretty fierce. But so far, the biggest "good" has been seeing Dragonette with the delightful Poli and Amanda. We danced. Oh, how we danced. Except to music that was more like this. When I grow up, I want to have cheekbones like Martina Sorbara.

2. The Bad: I always thought the catty bitch thing was just a high school movie trope. And even then, the catty bitch always gets hers in the final act. But no! When I was on the bus, this horrendous girl behind me tore into some friend's girlfriend in a way that made me feel as if I had fallen into a John Hughes movie. It started off with "I just don't think her personality is sparkling enough to make up for how fat she is. I really think he's a chubby chaser," and then went on for ten minutes of the most vile shit I had ever heard. It was hard to choose which was the biggest turd sentence: "But personality comes in a lot of sizes. Why couldn't he get one that was thin?" or "She's like the pair of pants that're too big for him but he still wears." Really, honey? It's not like women don't get enough shit about their bodies already from the media, so just go on ahead and do the dirty work for them.

3. The Funny: I tend to speak quickly and somewhat sloppily. Usually this just leads to people asking "What?" a lot and my mom imploring me to speak properly. But the other day at work, my adorable desk neighbor asked: "Is that an accent, or is it just the way you talk?" Heh. The next time someone asks me "What?" I'm just going to plead it's my impenetrable Southwestern Ontario accent. Thick as pea soup, it is.

*She ordered from an Etsy seller, SophiesBeads, if you want to get your own.