Developments...

A brief summary of recent developments:

• Bought owl (see previous post, Winged Vermin); with much delicate engineering, rigged item to end of wooden dowel suspended out of bathroom window. There swings menacingly. Pigeons non-plussed. Continue as if fearsome bird of prey were poorly-painted plastic knock-off...which it is. Actually witnessed pigeon landing on end of dowel to contemplate putative mortal enemy at close quarters. Bedroom window will now remain shut overnight. Airflow unsatisfactory, but slept past 9:30 two mornings in a row. Had forgotten how lovely such a thing can be.... If such sleeps are once again possible, gladly concede defeat...
• Bought bicycle. Close acquaintances, please take moment to pick selves off floor. Bike-riding endemic in these parts; flat city, relatively compact downtown area. No end of encouragements from locals to procure one of own and discover joys of Toronto-living. Thom bought last weekend; purchase-envy gnawed at soul all week. Actual purchase day (Friday) fraught with misadventure. Not worthy of repetition; suffice to say, nearly held bicycle aloft as offering to appease gods. Went on fairly long date-ride yesterday with Thom. Riding in traffic somewhat blood-curdling; need practice; meantime, careening down sidewalks must do, pedestrian imprecations in wake. Must admit, Toronto much nicer from seat of bike. Went down by lakeshore and then up trail along Humber River. Quite delightful; lush, green, peaceful; helped immensely by shirtlessness of other gentleman riders. Bottom somewhat tender this morning...nothing to do with gentleman riders...
• Took Thom to oysters last night. Lovely to watch him enjoy them, analyze their flavours... Not me; though raw fish in sushi/caviar form delights, something about salty, phlegm-like nature of oysters repels. Had fish and chips, lovely crunchy batter: sound of diet collapsing...
• Saw Devil Wears Prada. Enjoyable froth, though La Streep and Stanley Tucci elevate proceedings. La Streep in particular; no histrionics, no scenery-chewing; finely-calibrated, lethal performance. Like watching deadly snake sunning itself on rocks. Oscah smiles.... Mr Tucci as refreshingly real gay-man-in-fashion; flamboyant, but not swish. Toothy ingenue serviceable as clothes-hanger. Clothes mostly uninspiring. Granted, have little sense of couture...but still. Thought a lot about Davida...
• Sunday today...all day. Thought I would go to work for couple of hours...then thought better of it.

À bientôt.