​As far as can be from a movie buff, there are admittedly a few instances where Cineplex is win to earn my hard-earned wages. 
Fabricated City, The Peanuts Movie, Deadpool 2, Crazy Rich Asians, Star Wars, Infinity War, and JOKER are a few titles that have succeeded in the swindling mechanism. Most recently watched was Frozen 2, which was a, surprisingly, great all-around production.

The movie commences in a dingy, dirty semi-basement lodging, where cockroaches are rampant and drunk, urianting men are frequent sights. A poverty-stricken family of four is seen struggling to make ends meet, anxiously hunting for a Wi-Fi signal to grab hold of potential work opportunities via Kakao Talk. (For improved relatability though, the English subtitles had been translated to read 'WhatsApp' instead of 'Kakao'.)

One of my first observations is the presence of a familiar face: Park So Dam. A stellar actress with an impressive track record, I was instantly excited for the remainder of the production upon witnessing her appearance as the daughter of the family. The son, whom possessed great resemblance to CIX's BX, was also oddly familiar, though I couldn't quite put my finger on the exact piece of work.

The tale starts out quite humourously, with the family arguing their way through incorrectly folded pizza boxes. It isn't until the family is graced with the presence of the son's friend - stony souvenir in hand - that their lives take an unexpected, debatably upward turn.
Crossing paths with and ultimately infiltrating an affluent household, the first hour showcases the quartet's deft conning capabilities. One by one, existing staff serving the family are ejected through staged traps; in turn, the family members are employed to fill these positions. The ordeal was witty and comedic, however the series of events possessed an underlying sense of anxiety that was difficult to pinpoint until the second hour rolled around.

Throughout the story, I paid little attention to the usage of stairs as a distinguishing tool of economic status. By contrast, I had been hoping that the stone souvenir would provide some sort of symbolism. It did not.
My immediate response to the gory final sequences was of distaste and confusion. I hadn't seen the need for such an extravagant escalation of events, though I must say that this concept is not foreign to regular K-Drama viewers. "The writers kind of just...gave up." was my immediate allegation.

​​Immediate afterthoughts consisted of confusion and absolute alarm at towards the vicious killings of the characters. The course had kept me engaged for majority of its run - an utter anomaly, might I declare - then cloaked in the comfort of my concert hoodie for the final fifteen minutes. Only following the review of other recaps was the ending depicted with greater clarity; notwithstanding the director's choice of portraying reality in the darkest, most pessimistic (practical) sense, the unpredictable murders were still overkill for me, especially in regards to the daughter. Park So Dam's character had shown the most compassion for the debt-ridden basement couple, with the mother in close second.

Social implications aside, I'd like to profess appreciation for the cinematography. While the filming style wasn't as creative as I would have liked, various camera angles/heights allowed the audience to grasp a better idea of the setting, further confirming the eerieness of the underground chambers and griminess of the destitute, sewage-flooded semi-basement.
​
A piece of work reflective of extreme income gaps around the world, Parasite was relatable but not particularly pivotal.

Group activities are decidedly uncommon in my neck of the woods. So when a certain prehistoric creature extended an invite to a DIY sushi get-together with the promise of mahjong, I was more than thrilled to get going on the 401 early Sunday morning.

​The day prior could be summarized to outright helter-kelter: in between weekend work shifts were "grosho" runs, and in between those were intermittent preparatory procedures for gathering-ready baked goodies. Without a doubt, I was worn to the core by the end of my sixth workday, especially given that badminton and laundry were the customary terminal tasks of the day.

​Nonetheless, there was no shortage of enjoyment in presenting Chocolate Buttercrunch Cookies - made possible with the acquisition of fraktals from the Seasons Christmas Market at the table. 
Apple Pie and an impromptu Mixed Berry (with hidden marshmallows) also received astounding feedback.

After being acquainted with nigiri-wrapping and shari-tossing techniques, we cleared the table and proceeded with the next order of business: Mahjong, with a side of mild alcohol.

The rest of the group guzzled Asahi while I had my taste at MacKinnon Brothers' Red Fox Ale; it was, regrettably, bitter and not reminiscent of amber ale in the slightest.

​The Indian Roti House along Queens Quay was visited for a quiet weekday lunch, with our roti ordered online in advance for pickup.

A Mango Chicken Curry Roti - made mild (with special instructions for further mildness) - was shared amongst a party of two. Presented in an aluminium foil tin was a rectangular parcel, and within it a sweet-savoury mix of tender chicken bites and occasional strands of spinach. Its cloying properties were likely owed to canned mango concentrate, which yielded a degree of sugariness that would have paired optimally with higher notches of spice. Nonetheless, it was a highly enjoyable dish and ideally portioned for two.

The pick-up process was swift and effortless; the hair net-donning cashier was also incredibly amiable.

​Upon the mention of Hub, I can summon forth only memories of definitive quality. And while it's been brought to my attention, on several occasions, actually, that across from platform emerged their sister location, I had yet to find a chance to visit.

Immediately before MiKi's doors was a similar parking situation to Daldongnae - an access permitting entry via right turns only - and a scarcity of spots much like Katsuya's original uptown location. The interior was, in fact, a tad tinier than the famed cutlet eatery, though adopted a similar format to Hub. With a maximum capacity of thirty seats in the forms of four- and six-seaters, raised communal tables were in absence.

​The floor layout was compact with a sushi bar that faced the dining area and washroom stalls at the back of the restaurant. Spotted within one of the two individual, gender-separated stalls was a multi-tier shelf, complete with air freshener, just like Hub.

A reservation was originally made for their opening time of 11:30 AM, however was later postponed due to collective tardiness amongst the group. Finding parking was my initial concern, but thankfully all three personal vehicles under consideration were able to be accommodated without issues.
Despite being geographically furthest, I was first to arrive and nabbed the table just short of the clock striking noon.

As I awaited the arrival of the others, FANCY played overhead; videos of orangecane's favourite septet cycled through on a small screen above, remaining consistent for the entire duration of our visit. The playlist blaring above, annoyingly persisted with more behind-the-scenes tunes, in the same manner, interrupted only by a few bursts of BLACKPINK and (G)I-DLE.

< Pictured above and below: Salmon Pressed Sushi, Tuna Pressed Sushi, Unagi Kimchi Donburi, Over the Rainbow, and Legend Dynamite >

​The group was guided through the menu, with emphasis on their tried-and-true offerings. Aburi pressed sushi and wacky Special Rolls possess unwavering appeal to first-time diners, as did the positively irresistible Unagi Kimchi Donburi (well, to the vast majority at the table anyway).

I had forgotten all about the convention until two days prior, when my favourite fangirl forwarded the program schedule to me in image form.

The first of its kind, KPOP NORTH was introduced as a convention aiming to bring more K-Pop artists north of the border, hopefully one day achieving the same degree of recognition as KCON in the States. And with its organizers fluent in the Korean language, the promise was far greater than Pop! Goes The World and their shady empty promises.

​We had purchased GA+ tickets just after the fifty percent price slash, then later learned of the complementary Hi-Touch pass. Unlike the infamous Mnet-run KCON though, the passes were not distributed randomly, but rather online via Google Forms registration on a first come, first serve basis. Both of us selected The Rose without hesitation, though it wasn't until later that I discovered she had also purchased additional benefits such as Photo Op and Hi-Touch passes for other artists.

​Taking place in the North building where ProFusion had occupied five weeks prior, the convention grounds were as simplistic (read: barren) as could be. There wasn't much of a dealer's alley, and even smaller a selection of instant nourishment. At the west end of the upper floor was the concert stage, uncarpeted, with overhead spotlights and an LCD screen acting as the sole production enhancement tools. (Might I add that this screen was repeatedly disconnected, revealing the VLC Player logo and cognate inadequacies of the stage team.)

​Coat check incurred a four-dollar drop-off fee and an unnecessary amount of hassle. Consequently, I took to leaving my winter gear (and pre-packed dinner) elsewhere. The trek wasn't particularly lengthy via The PATH, however the frequent trips soon fatigued my calves, which were already engaged throughout the standing shows.

​The Rose was the first act of the afternoon. It was an unexpected choice by the organizers, for rookie groups such as VERIVERY generally assume the roles of show-starters.
Needless to say, I wasn't particularly punctual, and my actions served to place me outside the GA+ crowd, nestled behind those sporting pink GA wristbands.

​With the band being my primary reason for ticket purchase, I shall admit disappointment towards being unable to capture the quadret clearly. On the less regrettable flip side, I will also profess that I took to experiencing their voices and instrumentals on a more human level, free from the distractions of technology. The Rose's energy was as spectacular as their studio releases.

I had never been too familiar with the members prior to this day, though one thing is certain: trench coat-shedding Jaehyeong definitely made my heart skip a beat.

The Kpop Random Dance was likely the most interesting panel event.

​Since mid-October, my weekly KDC sessions have repeatedly been supplying me with new perspectives. As much as dance is a form of exercise, it is also a medium of expression, surpassingly so.

​Despite being an amateur at "feeling the groove" while memorizing a sequence of movements, the classes were always a blast, and always a portal to absorb new information. Contrary to my initial belief, the choreography introduced did not have to be reproduced identically. Rather, it seemed that both participants and instructors preferred slight modifications, such that the moves aligned with one's original style.

​I grasped the core meaning of "community" - a space free of judgment and brimming with absolute freedom, a collective of positive vibes and mutual encouragement.

KDC classes bridged the gap between Intermediate and Advanced levels, which was, admittedly, still too advanced for the likes of me and my lack of practice. Years of recreational badminton have honed my hand-eye coordination, yet left my sense of rhythm stagnant. The ability to move my body with grace was impaired. I was but a zealous concert-goer unaccustomed to the complex steps of urban dance.
However, the more experienced attendees did not bat even an eyelash. Many were more than willing to lend a helping hand - or arm, or leg - in assisting newbies like me learn a new move.​

​The term concluded with a double class: the first incorporating b-boy vibes and the second fluid attitudes à la house and ahgase's very own Hit The Stage champion.

​One Beginner class and two KDCs later though, I was more than ready to call it a day. The team at the nearby McDonald's was apparently aware of this as well, for I lucked out with a triple-sized Vanilla Cone due to worker error.
This single serving was sufficient in compensating the dissatisfactory swirls of the past. 

​In review of the rest of the week was an incredulously lengthy baking session, which, in turn, resulted in a decent batch of gingersnap cookies and a not-so-spectacular dual-toned pound cake.

​You Calling My Name is a revolutionary concept for ahgases, especially those that have stood their ground since the beginning. Unprecedented in sound as well as style, the approach shifts from enigmatic synth sounds paired with powerful vocals to soft, seductive utterances and "sorrowful" verses.

​In the 90-minute-long showcase, the boys discussed the back stories behind B-side tracks, choreography trivia, and the members' individual efforts to sharpen themselves in preparation for the comeback. Leading up to the comeback, the already lanky maknae lost 3-4 kilograms, while our sunshiney otter summoned absolute willpower to drop 8 kilograms (the equivalent of 17-18 pounds!!), even exercising after hours amidst a global world tour. His efforts did not go unnoticed, for the 96-liner is rapidly rising on my list. Crash & Burn showcases his charisma and extensive vocal range, which is only further enhanced by smoky makeup and coloured lenses.

As for the title track, 니가 부르는 나의 이름 (You Calling My Name), there is not a single member engaged in the K-Pop scene who can deny the dynamic of my husbae. His newfound confidence enabled stylists to dress him in mesh and see-through apparel, moreover dismissing the all-too-frequent undershirt layers spotted in previous comebacks. My sanity, as well as the the minds of countless others, were thoroughly degenerated with the mere sight of him. New ahgases shall never comprehend the lengthy journey that was exposure beyond the neck and forearms.

​I've been debating reverting to numbered recaps for simplicity's sake.
That said, I won't deny that, now that winter has officially arrived, hibernation tendencies are in full effect. (This can also be interpreted as the sheer desire to snuggle beneath fuzzy covers, embracing its coziness in lieu executing acts of productivity.)

​One of my biggest gripes from last winter was the blatant absence of blue skies. Dreary greyness, blurred lines of day and night, and slick, desaturated streets - these were uncommon sights to central and east Canada. I pray that the same fate does not fall upon on us this time around.

​Following the announcement of oncoming slush, I embarked on a frigid walk along the waterfront.
Peculiar it was that, while the trees remained in full fall swing, the air spoke in a frost-laced tone. Mother Nature is clearly conflicted.

I also happened to catch IMPULSE's on its final week of operation. Sans illumination and sans seesaw partner, it was quite mundane of an experience.

​The holiday season welcomes more than just precipitation, however. Chasing the sugar rush that was Halloween are the vast assortment of indulgent treats resulting from countless end-of-year gatherings.

Hershey's was quick to hop on the holiday bandwagon, introducing a bakery/café pop-up inside Scotia Plaza.

Along with timeless Kisses and decadent brownies in the display case, the limited-timed installation featured "mixed-to-order" cookies.
​The concept was simple: Customers chose their pick of cookie dough (Original or Peanut Butter), and then picked three toppings from the bar. Employees operated in a four-member assembly line, each adopting roles such as the Form Filler, Topping Scooper, Mixer and Moulder, and Baker. Cookie dough scoops were placed onto parchment paper for shaping, then baked for about three minutes -  just until the chocolate began to become gooey.

​The precise meaning of a "friend" differs from person to person. For some, it describes an entity whom with one has spent the longest portion of his or her life, while others may depict it as someone who shares roughly the same geographic coordinates, thus permitting frequent meet-ups.

My lack of local friends has never failed to raise eyebrows. Yet, I am one to believe that friendship oughtn't to possess physical boundaries. The start of a friendship lies not with residential proximity, but rather a shared connection - a fated encounter that interests both and discourages neither. Sometimes, it is a shared fondness for exploring potentially overrated eateries in the city.
​In many cases, it is the unyielding affection for our support system: a K-Pop group that deserves nothing but our adoration and admiration.

​Fast forward about three months, it felt as if it was just yesterday that my Thai ahgase and I were dancing along to the encore tracks at the Keep Spinning World Tour in Toronto. She had left for the motherland not long after, while I had slowly grown accustomed to my new schedule.
The seasons had changed when we were reunited, though the fire within remained as passionate as the concert day.

We took to our regular Koreatown excursion, for the Bloor-and-Christie strip offers convenience as well as variety. Swinging by Hair Bank for a quote led us to feast our eyes on the wooden exterior that would soon be Daldongnae. It stirred up the meat-lover within one of us (Hint: it wasn't me).

​​Eighty minutes of coin karaoke equated to fifteen dollars, each song demanding a seventy-five cent fee. Though the booth was warmer than we would have liked, the experience was nonetheless enjoyable.

​Continuing on with the fun, we strode about the area in evaluation of our dinner options. Burning Friday, a recent addition to the lineup, had piqued our interest initially. Perusing the menu after our dehydrating singing sesh though, it suddenly didn't seem as attractive anymore.

Thus, we retraced our steps, hopping onto the front steps of The Korean Kitchen.

​More pub than restaurant, the establishment was home to an impressive count of alcoholic arrays, not exempt of cocktails either. Homestyle cooking in the form of jjajangmyeon and mandu-gook were absent; in their stead were bar snacks: chicken wings, bulgogi fries, and the shop's signature jokbal. Three varieties of pigs' feet (or pork hock) were available: Original, Garlic, and Spicy. A Half & Half option pairing the latter two flavours was an apparent popular choice.

At our time of entry, the restaurant housed only one other table. Staff members were still in the midst of opening preparations, evident by the hazardous puddle of water by the bathrooms that had been left unattended. The female member of staff came around to take our orders early on in the evening, speaking English in a more eloquent tone than expected. Her goth-like appearance caught me slightly off guard at first: the bold red lips against ashy white skin, the Emily the Strange haircut with blunt bangs, and the menacing nose ring contributed to an aura of mystery. Clad in a grey sweatshirt and jeans, the male member of the serving staff sported a decidedly average appearance in comparison. His skills at articulating the English language also revealed themselves at a surprisingly consistent level.

Our table order comprised of Fish Ball Soup, a Seafood Pancake, and a Half & Half Pork Hock with sauces on the side. Makgeolli and Sprite were also requested, and along with them came a bucket of high-sodium popcorn and edible twigs (fried noodles perhaps?) coated with cinnamon sugar.

The Fish Ball Soup was not mild, as one would expect. A sip of the broth warned of ghastly peppers and, soon enough, jalapeno slices began to make their appearance. The fish balls were standard fare - as standard as frozen fish balls could be. Flat fish cakes à la aburaage jackets, chunks of agar jelly,  and scallop-like ddeokbokki segments filled the remainder of the bowl.
One bowl in and the concoction was deemed too fiery for comfortable consumption.

As far as personalities go, orangecane and I couldn't be further apart, and this very observation was validated through our habitual tendencies. She makes no appearances in this entry, however I was constantly reminded of our conversation - with You Are playing as BGM - every time I cocked my head upwards to gaze upon the cloudless skies above me.

​The first order of business for the week was consolidating my Rec Room credits. The Roundhouse Park location re-invited one of my old favourites, Kung Fu Panda, where I spent a solid twenty minutes trying to grab all the golden dumplings (to no avail, of course).​
​A shocked stool plush keychain was redeemed as consolation.

​Nearby was Chipotle, where I had specified an order of Carne Asada Salad (with guac!!!) in advance. In sheer contrast to my first encounter with the system, my bowl had been assembled perfectly to my liking. The pickup process was smooth, the online order staff member was swift, and utensils/napkins had already been placed into the bag. Adding to my day was the adorable message adorning the aluminium cover.

​Midway through the week was my two-time-postponed meetup with feedthebear. And naturally, we had slotted in a few new dining destinations surrounding our point of congregation.

With a bit of time on my hands, I opted to swing by Thank U Coffee first. The understated café had ranked high on my list of to-gos, and I must say that it did not disappoint.

The walls bore a variety of finishes: lacquered in a lush forest green, faux brick appliqués, and even a vivid mural owed to the artisty of a local creator. Light fixtures were sophisticated orbs resembling a tumble of roughly wound steel wire; they cast a cozy glow throughout the space, further accentuating the luminosity of the colours found within. 

​An extensive menu was found to the right of the entranceway, its prices unmistakably at the higher end of the spectrum. Piquing my interest was the Canadian Latte, which I was informed to be shaken by hand to yield a thin layer of surface foam. When I took to asking "What makes it Canadian?", it was noted that the name had been determined by a Canadian, and the inclusion of maple syrup had been tested in its initial stages but was ultimately deemed unsuitable for the final formula.
​
I later chose a regular-sized Thank U Coffee - essentially a latte with Earl Grey syrup (and no leaves in sight). The result was fragrant, delicious, and hit all the notes for a great iced latte. Needless to say, though, it was priced steeper than one would prefer.

​I stayed a while, long enough to learn that the café owned by a young Korean husband-and-wife duo. They were entrepreneurs with a vision: the wife extremely friendly and made attempts to acquaint herself with every patron that waltzed through the door, including the Ritual frequenters.

Kind enough to spare me several hours of her scarce vacation days, I roped my birthday buddy in on an annual tradition: a drive to The Apple Factory.

It was the designated destination for all things autumn-related - where peace and pleasure were procured by way of pies.

​Fun fact: Last year's visit had coincidentally been executed on the precisely the same day! Differing this time around was the absence of the giant pumpkin display (and the fact that I had a fellow photo-snapper for the journey). Straw bales and scarecrows retained their presence, on the other hand.

​With raindrops materializing from the grey blanket above us, we dove into the market in search of dryness. Once inside, interest was piqued by cheese curds (that ultimately went unpurchased), apple cider samples, Hewitt's Dairy cartons (previously only observed east of the city), and a supposedly limited edition Pumpkin Pecan Crunch Pie.