Salon Magazine is joining the crowd and trying to get its readers to create blogs. They call it Salon Blogs, but there isn’t much detail about how the community is going to work… It mostly looks like a partnership with the blog publishing system called Radio Userland, but you still have to pay for the software after a 30-day trial.
Will this “community” be enough to give Salon the boost it needs? A year ago, I had decided to pay for a Salon membership. I couldn’t stand the idea of reading the magazine with big ads popping up and I thought I would encourage what I considered to be great writing and editorial. I had been reading their online magazine since the very beginning, when they were just another start up, right next to my office in San Francisco. I’ve always loved their movie and book reviews but they seem to publish less and less of them now. I don’t like the direction the magazine has taken since September 11th, and their attempts at raising money have been more desperate than inventive. My membership is expiring in a few days. I wonder: should I renew or not?
Warning: Self-centered, pitiful, whining content ahead. (It is a blog, after all…)
First tbit got it. Then tbit shook hands with blork and blork got it too. And blork, well… let’s just say now I’ve got it as well. It’s the blogger’s virus, a weird type of summer flu which makes you feel like the heat coming from your body is responsible for the scorching heat over the whole city of Montreal (and not the other way around). My brain is spinning, my throat and ears are sore and I can’t keep my head up (I’m typing this with my head on the keyboard, really! I’m pretty good.). Maybe a glass of �lixir v�g�tal de la grande chartreuse will fix me up. Then again, maybe that green color will be too much for a girl who has a cold and a runny nose. Bleah!
And to think that I am not done with all this painting…
Certains voient la vie en rose. Moi c’est en chartreuse que je la verrai, du moins pour la dur�e de mon nouveau bail. J’ai choisi cette couleur verte et ses variations pour orner quelques uns des murs de mon nouvel appart (avec du blanc pur et quelques touches de rouge tomate). Tiens, je viens de me rendre compte que j’avais m�me d�j� choisi cette couleur pour mon blogue! J’adore le look tr�s ann�es cinquante de ce vert que l’on retrouve sur plusieurs objets datant de cette �poque, dont la fameuse ligne de vaisselle et c�ramique Fiesta. Homer Laughlin, cr�ateur de cette ligne, a produit toute une s�rie d’articles de cuisine de couleur chartreuse entre 1951 et 1959. J’esp�re bien faire l’acquisition d’une de ces �l�gantes carafes que l’on retrouve sur les nombreux sites de collectioneurs de la ligne Fiesta.
Le mot chartreuse, qui d�crit ce m�lange de vert avec un peu de jaune, vient de la liqueur aromatique du m�me nom, cr��e par les moines fran�ais de l’ordre des Chartreux, l’un des plus anciens ordres monastiques chr�tiens du monde. En 1605, un c�l�bre mar�chal a donn� � ces moines un manuscrit r�v�lant la formule d’un Elixir de Longue Vie dont nul ne conna�t l’origine. C’est ainsi qu’est n�e la Chartreuse Verte, une liqueur avec une joyeuse teinte tout � fait naturelle. La couleur provient des 130 plantes qui entrent dans la composition de cet alcool dont seuls quelques moines connaissent la formule.
J’attends d’avoir termin� mes travaux de peinture pour go�ter en toute qui�tude cette liqueur dont la couleur me met de bonne humeur et me donne l’espoir de joyeux matins et de longues soir�es en bonne compagnie. On me dit que c’est un alcool au go�t prononc� mais le site officiel de la Chartreuse sugg�re quelques cocktails qui me font bien envie. � votre sant�
The cleaning, scraping and painting has finally started at the new chez moi and there’s no time and space to do any fancy summer cooking right now. Thank god Blork is there to make sure that I don’t lose any weight (yeah, thanks…) and keep my energy level up by feeding me good stuff.
But even the best cooks take a break sometimes, so this weekend I finally dragged a bunch of my loved ones, including my blue haired nephews, to Patati-Patata at the corner of St-Laurent and Rachel, so that they could finally get to taste the famous Patatine I had been raving about. Blork does a great description of this somewhat healthy version of the well-known poutine, and there’s even an appetizing photo of it on his web site. Believe me, making a poutine look this good on a picture is quite an exploit.
After the meal, we shopped around on St-Laurent, accompanied by my South Shore nephews, who had dressed for the occasion and looked perfectly at home on this funky Montreal street.
And now it’s back to painting for me. I wish I could just take the whole apartment and dip it in a gigantic bucket full of white paint, then let it drip and dry. Does anybody know if such an invention exists?
There are more and more bloggers and like anything that multiplies, a lot of them start assembling in pairs and become couples (well, some of them were couples before they blogged). I love the way these blogger couples use their respective web sites to maintain a parallel dialogue to the one they already have in daily life.
I caught this juicy exchange in the comments section of Marmalade Girl’s blog:
(Back story: tbit went biking without sunscreen. He is walking around the house looking for sympathy. Marmalade Girl is making fun of him, calling him Burnt Toast.)
Tbit: And she goes and scratches my arms with her scythe-like nails. I tell ya, the girl is Eee-vuhl.
Marmalade Girl: I am not evil. I am morally different.
Ce qu’on peut en apprendre des choses et d�couvrir des liens gr�ce au blogue de Karl. Tenez hier par exemple, on avait le choix entre des supers dessins de demoiselles japonaises (petit faible pour les asiatiques?) ou encore des trucs et conseils sexuels pour femmes � poitrine g�n�reuse.
Et puis merde, ce Karl est heureux en plus! On n’aura jamais vu fran�ais plus bouddha que lui. Mon cher, il faudra bien que tu partages avec moi le secret de ce bonheur, de ce doux d�tachement qui sait tout de m�me se faire amoureux.
Construire sa vie � deux ? Moi c’est tout le contraire, je n’essaie plus de construire, je vis de boh�me, de cr�ations, de d�sirs, et d’irr�m�diables instantan�s. Je ne me suis jamais aussi senti bien depuis des ann�es.
Mais justement, ce paragraphe de ton blogue contiendrait-il la cl� de ton succ�s? Faut-il cesser de r�ver � cette construction? Abandonner l’amour en blocs Lego et y aller pour une forme plus souple?
Parfois vraiment, je ne peux pas m’emp�cher d’envier les hommes et de souhaiter tr�s fort devenir comme eux.
�a fait des semaines que tu y penses, que tu planifies. Ton attente est maintenant r�duite � 4 jours. 96 heures avant de tenir entre tes mains des cl�s dont le poids ne te sera pas familier avant quelques jours. Une �ternit� avant que tu ne puisses revoir ces murs d’un appartement que tu as bri�vement visit� il y a des semaines et dont tu arrives � peine � te rappeler les dimensions et la couleur.
Tu sais pourtant qu’il ne faut jamais se fier � la premi�re visite. P�n�trer dans un lieu qui n’est pas le sien, impr�gn� d’une odeur �trang�re. Errer dans cet espace � �valuer et d�shabiller du regard les pi�ces trop remplies par le locataire en partance. R�ver de murs blancs, lumineux, de d�nuement. Se demander: pourrais-je vivre ici? Y penser vite, trop vite. Dire oui, le coeur serr�. Dire oui � des murs que l’on ne connait pas mais qui tendront bient�t leurs oreilles indiscr�tes vers notre vie et ses bruits.
4 jours avant de pouvoir �tre rassur�e sur le potentiel d’une amiti� � long terme avec ces nouveaux murs. En attendant, imaginer le cliquetis des nouvelles cl�s qui viendront remplacer les anciennes, celles de l’appartement dans lequel tu as tant travaill�, r�nov�, aim�, esp�r� et pleur� aussi. Oublier ce labeur, cette d�ception. Se convaincre que non, on n’est pas toujours en train de repartir � z�ro. Refermer la main sur de nouvelles cl�s. Les ins�rer dans la serrure. Retenir son souffle, ouvrir toutes les fen�tres et changer l’air. Respirer. Respirer mieux. Enfin.
After 4 years as a Montreal resident, I was finally able to make it last night to the Jazz festival (I was travelling outside of the country for the last 3 summers), and what a night it was! First we heard the great music of Simon Shaheen & Qantara. Shaheen, an arabian oud and violin maestro plays an engaging mixture of jazz, world beat, latin rythms and classical arab music. There were a lot of bellies happily dancing in front of the stage last night! I first discovered the oud, a beautiful middle eastern instrument that sounds and looks a little like a mandolin, with the music of the Anouar Brahem Trio. Their CD called Astrakan Caf� is one of my all time favorites, an album I often listen to while working on articles or writing this blog. I hope Anouar Brahem will be invited to a future edition of the jazz festival.
We walked around, taking in the crowd and catching a glance of punk looking portugese singer Mariza, and made it in front of the stage in time for the mind blowing performance of Bauchklang. These 6 austrian guys are alone on stage. No instrument, no beat box, nothing but microphones. With the sole contribution of their voices, they produce some of the hotest “electronic” techno sounding music I’ve had a chance to hear. When they started doing their amazing a capella performance, I closed my eyes and in a second, I forgot that there was no band or d.j. on stage.
When we first talked about going to that show, E. was afraid that the novelty effect would wear off after a couple of songs, but we were both surprised to see that it didn’t. Bauchklang’s compositions are good and their sense of rythm and knowledge of techno and musical experimentation goes far from the simple imitation of a beat box. As they explain on their web site “Bauchklang is not about imitating or satirizing instruments, it’s about discovering and creatively using the infinite variety of human voice.” The energy in their performance was contagious. The young, rave looking crowd went crazy and called back the group for 5 encores.
To get an idea of their talent, listen to some of the mp3 files available on their web site, particularly Don’t ask me, Fire below, and the trippy I Transmission. If you want to be able to compare their performance with a song you already know, listen to their version of Sting’s Roxanne.
They will perfom again tonight in Montreal at the Metropolis, and then they move on to Le Festival d’�t� de Qu�bec, where I’m sure the crowds will go crazy once again!
Avis aux automobilistes et aux c�libataires
Apr�s plus de 12 jours � me promener partout dans les environs de Montr�al avec mon nouveau scooter, j’ai finalement d� m’arr�ter � une station d’essence pour faire le plein. Total: 2.86$…
Conseil aux c�libataires: Je vous recommande fortement l’achat d’un scooter plut�t que d’un chien (ou encore l’emprunt d’un b�b�) comme pr�texte pour faire des rencontres. Depuis que j’ai mon p’tit bolide, de nombreux inconnus/voisins/passants s’adressent � moi pour me poser des questions ou pour me “f�liciter” sur mon nouveau moyen de transport et ce, m�me si j’ai l’air ridicule avec mon casque sur la t�te. Malheureusement, le mod�le que j’ai choisi ne me permet pas de prendre un passager…
They Came, They Cooked, They Left
Two women had the great idea of creating a cookbook based on ex-lovers recipes. It’s called The Ex-boyfriend Cookbook. They Came, They Cooked, They Left (But We Ended Up with Some Great Recipes).
“We swear we didn’t conceive of this book as a way to pick up guys. At least it didn’t start out that way. Really: One day we were planning a barbecue at the Iowa farmhouse where we lived and Erin said, “Oh, I’ll make Davis’s spicy BBQ rub!” And we kind of looked at each other and said, “We should write a cookbook of all the recipes we’ve gotten from ex-boyfriends over the years!” And an idea was born.”
And what a good idea! I can’t remember what most of my ex-boyfriends tasted like, but I sure can remember the taste of some of their dishes! M.H. wasn’t big on cooking but he made a great cornish hen stuffed with ham and cheese. I wasn’t a big fan of M.K.’s tofu and brown rice dish but he put together a memorable vegetarian chili. I didn’t mind if F.’s Pernod and green grape pasta sauce reminded us of his ever present ex-girlfriend (who had passed it on to him) because it tasted so good! And of course, I can only imagine the influence of my sweet E.’s fabulous cooking repertoire on his ex-girlfriends!
How about you? Do you remember ex-loved ones through your heart or your stomach? And what recipe or dish makes you remember them the most (in a good or a bad way…)?
