Not my average Sunday, that’s for sure. Aside from photo editing most of the weekend, I met with a client today at the nail salon for a manicure/pedicure. Only my second pedicure ever (the first one was the night before her wedding), and I feel obliged to tip big since my feet are otherwise completely neglected. I have enough calluses and raggedy cuticles to keep them busy twice as long as everyone else. I’m sure there are men who take better care of their feet! Plus, I have NO IDEA what I’m doing — I stand there like a numbskull until the shop ladies tell me what do.

I know what you’re thinking: how complicated can it be?

It’s very complicated, people. First of all, there are a MILLION bottles of nail polish on the wall. Maybe the salon should take a pointer from McDonald’s — there’s a reason why McDonald’s has such a limited menu! And while no self-respecting nail salon would only have five bottles of nail polish to choose from, it sure would make the CHOOSING a lot faster! Even though nail polish bottles are clear, the polish has all sorts of attributes found only at closer inspection: frosty? glittery? must scrutinise. Tick-tock, tick-tock.

And then there’s the chair. It’s a massaging chair with a bubbling foot spa, and one lady’s tackling one foot while another lady’s tackling one hand. They each have a scary-looking tray of stainless steel implements not unlike you’d see in an OR, each telling me to switch to the other appendage — foot up please, other foot please, you move your hand too much — while my head is turned towards my client, listening intently to her speak over the din of foot-spa-bubbling and instructions in Vietnamese-heavily-accented English.

Guys have it easy: they meet clients on the golf course. I don’t play golf, but I don’t think there’s any way I could convince a bride to have a meeting on a golf course, anyway. Maybe I should suggest a meeting at an Apple Store; there are four in the GTA. And so it goes… maybe I should get used to this salon thing and call it a business expense. Hello CRA?

The next challenge this afternoon was what to do while the nails were drying. I didn’t have my DSLR with me, so I decided to postpone any sakura expeditions until tomorrow morning when the crowds are at work, and run some errands instead. First stop: nearby IKEA. For food, seriously. I haven’t been to IKEA in years but if there’s one food I know they’ll have, it’s meatballs. IKEA food is really good value for money; it’s the closest thing and cheapest alternative to home cooking. The trick is to go near closing time after the parents and kids clear out.

I have to eat before I grocery shop, otherwise I engage in this terrible habit of buying hot food from their baking stations (chicken, potato wedges, etc.) and eat while I’m shopping. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve shown up at the cash register with empty containers that get scanned and immediately chucked. If you’re in a Sobey’s and see someone holding a box reading the label with one hand while eating a chicken wing or a samosa with the other, it’s probably me. I am a chronic label-reader and this makes grocery shopping very, very SLOW. Which means I have to eat dinner while pushing the shopping cart because otherwise when would I eat dinner? Besides at IKEA, I mean.

I am the Queen of Eating On The Move: I eat on the subway, streetcar, in my car, even walking down the street! When I travel solo, which is pretty much all the time, I don’t eat in restaurants, I get food from takeaways and eat in parks or public spaces or I eat from street vendors. (Which makes it easier to strike up random conversations with strangers.) If it’s good enough for local people, it’s good enough for me. I’ve only gotten gastro-sick once from eating street vendor food, in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico in 1998. I got a little too adventurous with the hot sauce and never ventured far from the bathroom for days.

The title of the post is from this afternoon’s discovery while driving between IKEA and the grocery store. Instead of turning east on Lakeshore, I went straight on at Kipling and found the marvellous brick buildings of Humber College’s lakeshore campus. Until now I had no idea where it was, and now I know. Lots of construction happening, but the brick is good for photo ops. I went for a short walk along the shore and shot these pics with my phone during Golden Hour. Glad I took the long way home today, I’ll be sure to stop by again with my DSLR. (More pics and a video after the cut.)

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