​As the city gears up for FIFA with excitement, I reinforce my status as a non-watcher and non-lover of sports by refusing any and all opportunities to engage with the seasonal nightmare.

Instead, I shall strive to steer clear of the downtown core wherever possible during the duration of the games - especially on game days where lingering is ill-advised - and calmly celebrate with patriotism from the cozy chambers of my suburban home.

​Meals of the week included a scrumptious Cheeseburger Pot Pie from Sweetie Pie, PB & Strawberry Jelly Challah Toast (a mix of homemade and store-bought from COBS), and several homemade creations.

The wholly unexpected invitation to a site visit on the edge of Vaughan was more than I could have wished for! From being denied PPE, a work phone, and site visits altogether just one year ago, I am glad to report back that interacting with our environment to identify in-situ constraints is now highly encouraged! Look how far we have come!

I awoke earlier than usual in preparation, commencing my commute at the early hour of 8 AM in hopes of arriving by 9:20 AM. Unfortunately, GTA traffic is hardly kind even to those that account for congestion. The trip spanned a grueling 1h 45 mins; By the 90-minute mark though, I made a stopover for indoor plumbing facilities. 

​The Tim Hortons bathroom failed to flush, causing an accumulation of urine and used toilet paper. In addition, the sink was clogged. I desperately fought the urge to vomit, Availability of toilet paper, soap, and running water were considered luxuries, for the men's stall was revolting beyond belief.

An approximate 2.5h site walk led us well past lunchtime, though the team was antsy to wrap up the venture before impending rainfall.

While there were brief moments of gustiness in the morning, conditions proceeded to turn hot, humid, and muggy around noon. I was equipped with a neck fan, wool socks, and plenty of UV gear, though did not think to bring water for the sunny trek. Coming to my saviour was the Earl Bales Community Centre, which featured air conditioning, clean bathrooms, and a water fountain.

Naturally, I took advantage of the site's proximity to North York and zipped off in the direction of Don't Yell At Me. My arrival time would also coincide with Mister Wheel's hours of operation, though online orders were not permitted until 2 PM. Consequently, I was restricted to placing the order in person.​

​My preferred parking area along Canterbury Place boasted plenty of spaces. That said, it hadn't occurred to me that signage was present to prohibit parking during business hours. I was grateful to not have earned myself a ticket for the infraction.

Life4Cuts within the Upper East has recently been replaced with photoism. Despite offering a wider assortment of K-Pop idol frames, the head accessory and eyewear selection have diminished drastically. New ENHYPEN frames were observed, wistfully devoid of Heesung.

A Single Person Set from Mister Wheel required about 10-15 minutes to prepare. During this time, I decided to confirm the status of the partially obstructed washroom facility. Located at the rear of the space, just past General An Posticker's counter, was a spacious single stall unit. Brown paper towel and a commercial-sized toilet paper roll were stored in a wire basket, for all the dispensers were out of service. Soap was provided out of a plastic bottle, as the wall-mounted dispenser was also, supposedly, broken.
My browsing partner had commented on the lack of pristineness previously, though the early hours of operation had rendered the facilities decent - and much, much better than Tims.

​​​Two Black Sesame Wheel Cakes and a Tung Ting Oolong Tea in a brown paper bag accompanied me back to the car.

On the way back, I swiftly claimed my Rose & Roselle Ceylon Lime Tea from DYAM. The barista had likely prepared it before I had arrived at Mister Wheel, as the bag had been transferred to the refrigerator in wait of pickup.

​While the concoction instantly quenched my dehydrated soul, it featured neither the fragrant qualities of rose nor zesty presence of lime I had envisioned. Moreover, the base tasted of a strong green tea, rather than Ceylon (black).

A truly forgiving 50-minute drive back to the west end of the GTA enabled me to sample the wheel cakes while still fresh. Scrumptious and gratifying as always, the rounds also boasted a reimagined design with a moose, the Rockies, and "CANADA" in bold letters.

Mother Nature has been exceedingly unpredictable this season, and a combined wind/rainstorm was the last thing residents of the GTA could have expected. My commute towards North York was once twenty minutes (736), but conditions on the 401 have long evolved since the pandemic days. I had readied myself to depart approximately ten minutes earlier than the week prior, only to be faced with an unexpectedly high number of collisions on the highway. Had I not pre-paid for pilates class, I would have turned around the moment Google Maps recommended a detour via Burnhamthorpe.

Driving conditions were indeed treacherous, wholly warranting the cancellation of outdoor activities. A heavy downpour in conjunction with forceful winds resulted in minimal visibility. Despite departing earlier, I ultimately arrived fifteen minutes later than the previous week - and ten minutes late to the class!

Truth be told: I should have left earlier given the external conditions. Attempts to find parking at the rear of the studio were also in vain, for only two of six spaces had been allocated to studio customers and already occupied at the time of my tardy arrival. To make matters worse, the parking access was an impossibly narrow corridor measuring approximately 2.2 m wide (as per the latest aerial). Making a U-turn was out of the question, for even three-point turns constituted a tragic undertaking. Leaving the parking area was another mission in itself since it demanded a 90-degree egress path. This was, of course, assuming an absence of incoming traffic from Sheppard. In any case, I would earnestly advise against using the rear lot for safety reasons. 
The sole foolproof solution was looping back to the east side of Beecroft, surrendering the hefty $5.75 hourly rate, and scurrying to the third floor studio.
​
After hurriedly reloading my Green P account, using the bathroom, and stuffing my belongings into the cubbies with an audibly anxious slam, I quickly darted towards the group class area and laid down on of the Reformers. This time, process of elimination led me to an SPX Max reformer - not that it mattered, for the day's sequence did not include exercises that would pose variances in difficulty based on one's distance from the ground.

I had missed the warm-up by the time I arrived and, by this point, the instructor had moved onto a core warm-up. Using one red spring, we were guided through curl-ups, scissors, and double leg stretches with hands in the tension straps. Form reminders included "curling up and looking at your stomach" to ensure that the head and neck were maintained in the correct positions. Frankly, I surprised myself by successfully executing the sequence with one red spring, given my post-badminton exhaustion levels. A pulse finisher awaited us at the end of the double leg stretches, which caused a knowing smile to creep up along the edges of my mouth and groans to emerge from fellow class participants.

We then transitioned to a side-lying position with the head rested on a foam block on the head rest of the Carriage and the tension strap looped over the right foot. Press-backs and leg circles (in both directions, of course) served to engage the gluteus medius muscle. Continuing with the blue spring and the right foot in the strap, we transitioned to an all-fours position. Hands were placed outside of the shoulder rest as we performed a short series of bird dogs. Despite being familiar with the move, the tension-affixed variation was much harder than expected! The instructor reminded me "scoop the belly more" and also shifted my weight back slightly such that the hips were aligned with the knees.
I had observed this during my last visit as well: One of the downsides of Studio Le Ciel's group class area was the absence of mirrors for form checks. Having said that, the instructor was comprehensive in rectifying the form of all students in presence.

Some 8-10 reps of bird dog later, we were instructed to maintain the outstretched position for five seconds, preserving the lengthened arm at shoulder height and lifted leg at hip height. No number of repetitions of Well+Good's Back and Core Strengthening Workout could have prepared me for that moment. Obvious quivers were experienced for the first time in a long time.

Next up in the all-fours sequence were fire hydrants, again with one blue spring. One foot was kept in the tension strap, while the hands were placed on the shoulder rests. Given the hollow point between the shoulder rests, this alignment made for a challenging alternative to mat practice. Leg extensions with the lifted foot in turnout position followed; the sequence concluded with fire hydrant pulses, an exercise that saw many students jerk the knee as opposed to isolating the hip joint to keep the Carriage still.
The side-lying, all-fours, and fire hydrant sequence was then repeated on the other side.

A few Pigeon stretches were weaved into the class for relief. Then, we obtained the platform extender for plank work. The instructor introduced the series by demonstrating the high plank. We were advised that forearms could be used in the case of aching wrists, I adhered to hands firstly for ease and secondly for improved range for pikes. The plank variations undertaken included:

• all-fours with lifted knees to leg extensions into plank
• plank to pike
• plank hold (no more than 20 seconds)
• side plank crunches ("crunch side body more!")

The four other class participants struggled severely with side planks, likely eliminating a side plank hold to finish.

Upper body work involved switching back to one red spring - a shocking swap, to say in the least. Facing the Tower with knees positioned up against the shoulder rest, the tension straps were crossed to form an "X". We had the option of grasping the rope part of the pulley system or the padded handles, and sitting on one's ankles or in adopting an upright kneeling position. Originally, the instructor had offered us both kneeling options. When I opted to execute the moves in a high kneeling position, the instructor decided for the rest of the class to do the same, noting under her breath that it was a more challenging variation.
Once again, I had doubted my ability to execute the moves given my post-badminton soreness. Yet, I somehow still managed! Certain moves were modified accordingly by adding slack (using straps instead of rope) when the motion was too difficult to maintain at the specified range.

A Reformer version of "thread the needle", arm circles in both directions, and roll-downs assumed the cooldown. The end of class was met with the instructor distributing spray bottles for cleaning the Reformers and reinstating the foam blocks to an equipment trolley. It was during this process that I discovered the presence of Balanced Body reformers in addition to Merrithew's SPX Max and V2 MAX. The semi-private and private studios further housed Merrithew's Trapeze Table, Chair, and Ladder Barrel and Balanced Body's CoreAlign.
In spite of Studio Le Ciel's compact space, it was remarkable that each training area was clearly delineated with plenty of separation and efficient storage of equipment.

​Upon completion of my two Intro sessions, it was evident that I enjoyed the class, the instructor, and the studio facilities. Price aside, the parking situation is dreadful and the commute equally terrible.
Delving into the studio's website afterwards, I realized that each instructor's complete profile was readily accessible online, from education to linked PDFs of certification credentials! This approach was extremely transparent, to a shocking degree, and nearly made up for the owner's delayed response times to customer inquiries. All factors considered, my resolve remain undecided at this point in time.

Following my second (and last!) session at Studio Le Ciel, I had the option of heading directly into roaming nearby destinations participating in Doors Open. However, stopping first for lunch was the appropriate approach. I evaluated my options, along with the walking conditions, and decided on the nearby Chillax Eatery.

​Routing to the destination via Yonge was ill-advised, for a left turn followed by another immediate left was a surefire way of inciting confusion for unsuspecting drivers behind. I opted instead for a southbound left on Sheppard followed by weaving through residential streets. This eventually emerged as the better alternative, for Chillax's "parking lot" housed no more than six numbered spaces for patrons. The adjacent lot, beyond being in dire need of resurfacing, was maintained by a different property owner and marked with hefty payment rates. And so, I exited through an equally crumbly asphalt lane towards Glendora Avenue. Heading eastward, unsigned street parking was located some 150 m east.
Upon attempting to exit my vehicle, the door slammed in my face: the winds were utterly unforgiving. A second, more forceful attempt succeeded; my trusty umbrella accompanied me on the miserable hike back up Glendora. With gusts ruthlessly whipping in my face, I silently debated whether the venture was worth the effort at all. Alas, sustenance was needed.

The rear entry of Chillax led to wooden platform. Stairs heading down to the basement level were marked for restrooms, while stairs leading up connected to Chillax Mart on the ground floor. Located on the second floor after more stairs was the eatery, a dining space with staggeringly large booths (even for parties of one or two). The hostess role was replaced by a sign-in tablet.

At 12:21 PM, there was one party waiting to be seated. I enrolled in the virtual waitlist as the second guest, then made my way back downstairs to browse the Mart. The assortment was comparable to the beauty and gifts section at supermarkets: imported (overpriced) houseware and cosmetic items, Japanese Kit Kats and bottled beverages, branded collaboration items from Sanrio, Miffy, etc., and various pre-packaged goods. There was even a small section for (the now-defunct) Teddy House (Teddy Story?) items.

Being the impatient soul that I am, it didn't take much to steer away from a dine-in experience in favour of a swifter sustenance source: A few glances at the $7.99 Crabstick Sandwich and I was convinced of its ability to cater towards my primary goals of time and cost efficiency. "No need to tip!" I silently quipped.

Along with the sandwich, I took advantage of Daigyo's Grand Opening Celebration promo for two soft serves. Inclement weather conditions enabled me to fall within the first 100 customers category without even trying! The BOGO offer applied to identical items only: either two Matcha Lattes or two Soft Serves. Naturally, I sought out one each of the Matcha Soft Serve and White Peach Jasmine Soft Serve.
Note that, at the time of order placement, I had not been informed that the White Peach Jasmine was priced fifty cents higher than the Matcha. An unexpected $1.45 surcharge was incurred as well, though I was unsure whether the fee was associated with a request for water or for the paper takeout bag. In any case, the customer should be made aware of any charges not listed on the menu. The cashier had not relayed these details with the transparency and integrity that a business ought to possess!

On the first day of Victoria Day long weekend, I made my way towards North York for the second time this year. I had repeatedly checked the travel time before departing, and was admittedly frustrated when my original thirty minute-estimate surged by 1.5x. Unfortunately, not all vacationers had departed the GTA yet.
Shockingly unsafe conditions plagued the entire commute. From the typically calm 403 to commuter-filled 401, other drivers were recklessly switching lanes on very short notice, or none at all! The scene was particularly awful on the 401 nearing the 400 and 404, which respectively feature aggressive industrial movers and uneducated, once-in-a-blue-moon highway users on a regular day.

By the time I exited onto Yonge Street, I was not only frazzled but extremely riled up. "I am never leaving my house again on a long weekend!" was declared with fury. As I approached the location for my first scheduled activity, my fingers frantically navigated towards the Green P app as I drifted into the left turn lane at Yonge/Sheppard.

​At receiving an error on the app, I was taken back. Nearing the surface lot though, the reason soon dawned upon me: The Green P lot was closed for construction.

And so, I relinquished $7.20 for 75 mins of street parking and scurried towards the third floor, where Studio Le Ciel resided. The studio was still as sluggish as ever about checking messages and the online booking system was extremely finnicky with stringent cancellation and refund policies. I intended to make the most of my ̶g̶a̶s̶ consecutive trips to the northeast side of the GTA, thus booked a two-class pass at their Spring Sale promotion price of $40 plus tax. Class credits were set to expire after two weeks, so I made haste in securing a Saturday morning spot. It was learned that booking platform did not register package payments with booking eligibility until the following business day though, but I had already succeeded in troubleshooting my concern by the time the studio provided a response.

A cluster of shoes was present outside the studio, indicating the requirement of removing shoes before entering. Slippers were not provided for customer use, however, but staff were spotted donning chunky platform slides. After checking in with the receptionist, I was gestured towards the rear of the facility, past the semi-private and private training areas, for the bathroom and lockers. This space boasted two changing rooms, a coat rack with velvet-covered hangers (that attracted accumulation of hair and dust), and a single bathroom stall. Needless to say, I ran for the bathroom as the class was about to start imminently.
​Aside from the toilet seat, the facility was generally lacking in cleanliness: scuff marks and hair were present inside the toilet bowl, dust had collected on the surface of the sink and around the soap bottle, and there were plenty of dusty, yellow corners. Moreover, I had not laid eyes on a seemingly more ancient hand dryer in recent years.

Shoving my EATALY tote into one of the cubbies and turning the Canadiana-plush-charm-attached key, I ran towards the group class area by the window. Each group class consisted of a total of six participants, who could take their pick of Reformer (plus Tower) from 4 SPX Max and 2 V2 MAX machines. Being the last to join, my pick automatically defaulted to the V2 MAX against the side of the wall. This later emerged to be the best pick of the selection for it evaded harsh UV rays from the window that would prompt perspiration and skin damage and effectively encouraged core engagement for the cardio burst.
The instructor had just commenced a warm-up of hamstring and hip flexor stretches. Within seconds, I realized I had forgotten to change into grip socks, disappearing once more to initiate the change. Let it be known at least fifteen minutes of a buffer should be considered for a peaceful, punctual entry into class.

Following the dynamic stretches, the instructor demonstrated the next series of exercises. Commencing in a lunge position with one foot against the shoulder rest and the other foot planted on the floor, we were to gently lift the knee, extend the leg on the Carriage, and tuck the knee of the standing leg towards the chest. Lunge to knee tuck planks with a curved spine were executed for 10 reps, followed by lunge to straight leg raises with a flat back for 10 reps. These two exercises would then be alternated for a final 10 reps, consequently elevating one's heart rate. The quick series definitely challenged lat strength, but also caused slight discomfort to weak wrists.

Another week has passed me by and, with it, came the inevitably endless stress that this position entails. Time and time again, I question how those with undeveloped problem solving skills, nonexistent critical thinking capabilities, and fundamentally flawed spelling and grammar can retain management-level positions. It would be an understatement to say that the entire scene continues to baffle me to no end.

A second heavy snowfall over the weekend automatically granted employees a work-from-home chance at the start of the week. Naturally, I took advantage of this; the roads were an unmistakable safety hazard, with two lanes often reduced to one.

With the paltry piece of inept feculence MIA for a week, my inbox swelled by an approximate 50% due to deflected responsibilities. That said, I made it a priority to seek pockets of time to breathe. More often than not, I required personal reminders of my competence. My browsing partner's attempt at words of affirmation resulted in a "at least you're managing". At first, I scoffed at the response.
"Barely." I retorted.
"But at least things aren't going sideways."
Pausing for a millisecond or two, I replied, "I guess that's true." The thought of allowing things to fall into chaos had not occurred to me as being a plausible choice. And perhaps it is this very sense of duty that holds me far too accountable for situations beyond my control.

​The formula was consistent with Papa Fung's original and the metric edition developed for personal use. I had also been mindful to incorporate milk powder, baking powder, and homemade vanilla extract following my 2.5h fermentation period. However, when lunchtime rolled around and I was temporarily liberated from the chains of suffering, I rushed to finish the batter and promptly forgot to include the 0.5 tbsp of lye water.

​The result was a noticeable lack of browning despite using dark slab cane sugar in the syrup mixture. The crumb was also arguably a bit more crumbly at its base. While I can't be entirely sure, the overall structure appeared less defined than the previous trial. Similarly though, I did not achieve the vertical air pockets in the lower third of the 馬拉糕. Nevertheless, it was undoubtedly superior to the first attempt, which featured rigidity and a burnt bottom in place of beautifully uniform air pockets and a lovely, plush texture.

​Despite my blunder, I appreciated the absence of alkalinity that is often associated with lye water and baking soda. Omission of the ingredient had caused collapse or failure of the steamed cake, thus I reasoned it was worth exploring its inclusion in a lesser quantity - perhaps 0.25 tbsp - in a future trial.

​Ma Lai Goh/馬拉糕 is best consumed immediately. For next day consumption, one should microwave for 10 seconds to reinstate plushness. Subsequent days will require microwaving of 15-25 seconds, depending on the dimensions of the square. Latter days will not see the same plushness as day 1, and I wonder whether the undesirable denseness is owed to insufficient volume acquisition (failure to incorporate lye water).
The cake should be stored at room temperature for no more than two days, as moisture may cause moulding beyond that period. By the 48-hour mark, I transferred the lofty square slices to the refrigerator.

In fear that my pricey 2-class pass would expire before I had the chance to make use of it, I made the impromptu decision to drag myself to Panda Pilates to prevent further financial losses. Unfortunately, this would eventually lead to yet another (!) injury and an angry return.

The commute was shorter than expected given rush hour volumes, but concerns were consistent with my weekend visit. Drivers along Dundas were incredibly aggressive, even in consideration of the messy, snow-covered roads, which made turning onto the residential road difficult. A number of parking stalls had been overtaken by snow, thus giving rise to a parking shortage amidst a narrow, slushy drive aisle. Private snow clearing operations constituted blasphemy.
After its morning classes, the business would temporarily close until 5 PM, at which point complimentary thirty-minute trials were held. The first studio class of Reformer Foundations commenced at 5:30 PM. Despite the lengthy break, I entered into the space to find a similarly filthy environment: Staff had not bothered to clean the facility in preparation for the next wave of customers. Awaiting me were puddles of disintegrating dirty snow, salt on a sodden carpet, and, worst of all, an absence of toilet paper in the washroom facilities. 

I've officially completed my ninth month in my current role - or eight month, if you exclude my four-week absence before the holidays. Those that have enrolled in regular recaps of my daily duties have experienced secondhand frustrations and have made it a point to check in with my sanity every so often.

The latest feedback led to somewhat relieved responses: "Sounds like you've finally settled", "Glad to hear things are getting better", "That's one hindrance gone!". However, there is plenty left to be desired.

While I appreciate the drastic slash in commuting time, especially during the dreadful winter months, the workload has yet to waver. Uncommon it is not for me to work additional unpaid (!!!) hours on the regular for the sheer sake of making progress on a task, or to simply keep my head above water.
Employee concerns fall on deaf ears, for the "people leader" capable of improving such conditions cares about humanity about as little as he is aware of his surroundings. If obscenely poor communication skills, dreadful planning, and tactless approaches make a "people leader", I may perpetually remain an anglerfish in the corporate ocean.

New to mall sightings are more Valentine's-themed merchandise and the arrival of Lunar New Year products to welcome the Year of the Horse.

Giant teddies crafted of the same shell as my campus teddy were spotted at Walmart retailing for a mere $15.97.

Pillsbury-branded baking equipment also came as a surprise discovery. Although the economic benefit was enticing, I ultimately decided on the KitchenAid rendition adjacent, for sturdiness and durability are key to a long-lasting tool.

I departed the office close to sundown, for resident interactions spanning well over 60 minutes plagued my afternoon, and soul.

An attempted reheat of a previously constructed cookie resulted in creation of a singed disc - I had forgotten that increased surface area and decreased thickness equated to reduced baking time.

​Holt Renfrew was also keen in embellishing their store with ruby red installations and the annual return of a wish tree.

As observed from across the counter, Saint Germain was steadily ramping up operations for new year gift boxes, also referred to as 禮盒.

Due to deviations from regularly scheduled weekend programming that endangered my workout routine, I decided that booking a fitness class for the earlier hours of the day was the only guaranteed way to maintain activity levels. After all, who would want to lug themselves out of bed after a late night without reason?

While I would have preferred a drop-in dance class, options were incredibly limited before 5 PM. Sunday slots were even rarer for pilates studios, which tend to offer early morning weekend sessions or close for business altogether. Panda Pilates emerged as the only establishment operating on Sunday, thus persuading a 2-class intro pack for $60 plus tax. While skepticism was prominent, I convinced myself that this was a good opportunity to try a new studio.

​Traffic conditions along the restricted segments of Dundas Street are abysmal during weekday evenings, but weekend mornings were surprisingly smooth. Despite a delayed departure, the unbelievably swift 8-minute commute led to an early arrival.

The studio was located off a residential road with a sharp turn off Dundas. Had I not known of the studio location prior, I'd have easily missed the turn with impatient weekend drivers tailing behind me. Parking spaces were limited, but adequate for the limited commercial GFA on site.
​
After climbing the concrete steps towards the entrance, I was met with a reception desk, series of cubbies, coat rack with fabric hangers covered with hair, and the odd installation of a coffee bar, known as Panda Café. Outdoor shoes were to be removed and placed by the entrance. 
This landing area was the dirtiest I had ever seen and, unlike the boutique studios, the staff did not maintain the studio between class sessions, allowing debris and hair follicles to fall to the ground and remain as is. I grimaced while stepping over the dirt- and salt-speckled floor mat towards a basket of equally questionable slippers. Unlike other studios though, the edges of the slippers appeared fairly clean and free of grey borders.
Two dimly-lite bathrooms were found past the studio space. The design was minimal and serene, though its cleanliness merely passable. I did, however, enjoy the smart mirror and conveniently located hook against the wall instead of behind the door.

On my fifth day, I was determined to break the trend of greasy Chinese food loaded with sodium. When provided the privilege of cuisine choice, I hesitated not in proposing Japanese, or some form of it, at least.

In the past year, the Richmond-Brighouse area had welcomed an abundance of new mixed-use residential complexes, complete with at-grade retail establishments. At the base of one of the new buildings was Sushi Lovers, a colourful eatery with budget finds and basic offerings.

Striding in, we were welcomed by a strong whiff of cooking fumes. The waitress gestured to a table immediately next to the door. While I wouldn't have minded the location normally, its proximity to the open concept kitchen and corresponding cooking odours had me silently wrinkling my nose in disgust. We requested for one of the booths along the windows, only to receive the grumpy response of "There are only two of us working today. I can sit you there." The waitressed shoved us back towards the original table assignment in utter disregard. Her complaint towards waitstaff scheduling also took me by surprise: Why should I care that there are only two people?

"We can wait." I told her, pointing towards a table with stacked dirty dishes.
"Alright" she replied, grudgingly.

​I cast quick glances around the room. For a Monday afternoon, the dining floor was quite busy, but not unmanageable. Each booth included a minimum of one soiled furry friend, likely to fulfill the role of companionship. We were gestured towards a window seat some few minutes later. Yet another onigiri occupied the seat - this one slightly less tarnished.

​Scanning the laminated menus, Sushi Lovers was discovered to be extremely affordable. I raised an eyebrow at the Wagyu, O-Toro, and Chirashi mentions, doubting their authenticity given the establishment's overall aura. Between three people, we opted to share a Salmon Goma-ae ($11.00), Oyako-don ($13.95), and Chirashi Don ($22.95). In being informed that the spinach-based appetizer was unavailable, the waitress redirected our attention towards the pricier $12.95 Sashimi Salad.

​Having entered the premises with high hopes, I must admit that the presentation of the requested items incited disappointment. Components of the Chirashi Don were practically identical to that of the Sashimi Salad: sliced instead of finely chopped, muted instead of vibrant and visually attractive, and utterly devoid of decorative garnishes besides a single shrivelled shiso leaf.

​By this point, we've officially entered the single-digit temperature zone. Mornings hover around 4 C, while the mid-day peak flutters between 11-14 C. Despite despising the dry, cracked skin that comes with colder weather, I thrive in the ability to wear cozy knits and layered ensembles without fear of perspiring profusely.

My Korea content remains unattended, for inadequate are even the brief spurts of reprise from ongoing work duties. Dare I say, I've forgotten to breath for the past while!

Coupled with an unworkable direct line of management and incompetent team member, frustrations have surged. Rather than merely enjoying my sixty minutes of unpaid lunch, I now struggle to remove myself from meetings in order to disconnect for sanity purposes on a consistent basis. What a travesty it is to be posed with such a dilemma: To live life or to let life live you.

However short-lived, I make the constant effort to step away from the depressing screen of black and white. Crunchy fall leaves and the brilliant gradient of fall foliage are amongst the few elements that bring peace to my soul.

The beauty of autumn is truly unparalleled! It's a period where I wish time would move slower, to allow for proper appreciation of Mother Nature and to relish in refreshingly brisk temperatures before the dreaded arrival of winter.

​Halloween decorations began to emerge in the office, readying the space for upcoming festivities.

I concluded the day with tremendous fatigue, not unassociated with the despicable Monday morning team meeting that never seems to be cancelled and never ends punctually. As a consequence of rapid decline in coordination abilities, I suffered a stinging laceration to the thumb, sheerly from proceeding about daily route. And I hadn't even managed to muster the energy to engage in daily exercise, the usual highlight of my day!

The second in-office day was comparatively better. For starters, all meetings had been nixed or postponed. I was also relieved of pestering people, until the late afternoon anyway.

Costumes had been encouraged for the spooky week, and my choice lay with the star of Netflix's latest mystery series.

The North York outing with my former colleague was scheduled about two weeks in advance. Lunch at MeNami was somewhat confirmed; meanwhile, I struggled to secure a trial pilates class in the vicinity.

Studio Le Ciel had been on my radar since leaving Dal Pilates, but despite my many attempts to contact them, all efforts were in vain. The online booking system appeared to close bookings 24 hours in advance of the desired slot, making next-day appointments impossible. Reaching out to the business via social media did not earn me a response - they didn't even read the message! - and calls were all sent to voicemail. Eventually, I decided on simply walking up to their studio door.

​A number of pilates studios have popped up around North York, however many were unfortunately closed on Sundays. A quick search and I landed on Canergy Pilates on Spring Garden Avenue. Without a moment's hesitation, I called the posted number and inquired whether a semi-private session was available later in the day, at either 3 or 4 PM. Extremely pleased was I to hear that a 3:50 PM session was open for last-minute booking.
The lady over the phone did not confirm my name, but sent instructions via text shortly after the call. Two numbered guides detailed the entrance to the studio, as well as parking details at the rear of the building.

I then sped over to MeNami for a scheduled tasting experience at 1 PM.

The generous invitation had been extended back in June, when I was contacted as one of the winners of a ten-year anniversary giveaway. While I had declined the offer initially out of fear that I'd be required to make the grueling trek on a weeknight evening, the team graciously accommodated my request for a Sunday afternoon after Summerlicious had concluded.

​It was unclear to me how the tasting experience would unfold, but the waitress was kind enough to explain the list of items we would be entitled to receive:

• 2 appetizers
• 2 mains
• 2 cocktails (!)
• 2 desserts

Naturally, the mention of cocktails caught us by surprise. Alcohol was generally excluded from any and all promotions. However, it was indeed confirmed to assume part of the lineup.

"How did you score this?!" my dining partner leaned over and whispered from across the table.
"I don't even know!" came my equally bewildered reply.

View the full album HERE !

Read Part 1 HERE !

​A schedule had been released ahead of time, though, given the organizer's treacherous lack of planning to date, we had reservations towards whether events were to follow through as planned.

​There was an abundance of parking and, of course, no need to pay. I pulled into one of many spots in the lot while the Thai ahgase continuously expressed her anxieties. Suggesting that she determine the answers to her ceaseless inquiries about tier categorization and queuing, I'd hover near my trunk to source the Pineapple BBQ Pork Bun from Red Sail Boat Bakery. The sweet-savoury parcel would constitute my (exceptionally early) supper.

​I quickly wolfed down the bun before 6 PM, then joined the lineup. The round was, peculiarly, still warm, despite being contained in my cooler bag for a few hours. Perhaps it was hunger, but the bun was perceived as quite the delicious bite. Plenty of cha siu was found within the specimen, then laced with a delightful cookie crust. Featuring a surface sturdier than Akko, I needed not worry if I'd lose the topping while eating on the go; the bun was similarly sturdy, yet far from dense. We had a winner!

The schedule had noted an entry time of 6 PM. But, as expected, we weren't ushered inside until at least 6:10 PM. SVIP ticket QR codes would be verified at the door; meanwhile, proof of VIP tickets would be dismissed.
Moving single-file between the double doors to the reception desk, we were provided red wristbands, BAMESIS lanyards with SVIP designations, a tour poster, and BamBam photocard of choice. Being amongst last ones in the queue, our choice of photocards was limited to two. That said, my complaints are few, for the quality of the bonus items was of a good caliber.

VRS Production was unapologetically Filipino in every way possible, with not a single team member not displaying the signature cheesy tendencies. Photographers and videographers would capture the entry process of the fans, as well as the transition to the upper level for the fansign event.
It was with much relief that I found clean, brightly-lit corridors and bathrooms on the both the upper and lower levels of the building. I had envisioned a layout to be akin to Notre-Dame, wherein the seats were uncomfortable wooden benches and indoor plumbing facilities were nowhere in sight. The Thai ahgase scoffed, clarifying that Notre-Dame was a cathedral and that churches indeed possess bathrooms.

​The location for the SVIP Fansign was a space no larger than the standard classroom. A table and tour poster were set up at the front of the room, lights positioned on either side. Fabric-lined chairs would be arranged some distance away from the table, in five rows of ten chairs each. After all, the SVIP upgrade was limited to just 50 VIP ticketholders.
We found ourselves filing into the last row, eyes glazing over a tour poster with sticky note instead of the BAMESIS albums we were promised. The team had apparently "ran out" of albums, thus supplemented the last two rows with "partial albums" and tour posters. The "partial" albums involved "sharing" a single album between two people, in which the CD could be signed by one and the photobook by another. Needless to say, this sent the last twenty unlucky fans into an uproar. The SVIP upgrade had promised a benefit of two albums, leading most, if not all, fans to refrain from brining their own copy from home.

These obvious frustrations prompted an interim resolution: Somehow from somewhere, more albums would emerge. Each SVIP ticketholder would be compensated with one full album; the second album would supposedly be shipped out after the show, though further details were not provided.

Pens and sharpies would circulate the room to allow fans to write down their name for the fansign. We were informed that BamBam would copy the name - and/or message - on the sticky note onto the chosen page for signing. Also discussed was the procedure: Each SVIP ticketholder would be entitled to one minute of interactions with BamBam. Upon nearing the end of the time slot, a "15 seconds left" sign would be raised. This sign would then be flipped to reveal "Times Up" at the end of the sixty-second period.

"Wow!" I turned to the Thai ahgase with shock, "A whole minute!!"
​
Shortly after settling our album concerns, BamBam strode into the room without warning. By this point, it was 6:30 PM.

​Each row would be summoned in sequence and instructed to queue along the side of the room. Then, one by one, the fans would be gestured towards the table and the timer would be started. Members of staff and local security hovered about the perimeter of the room, yet none invaded into the signing zone. In stark contrast to previously attended events, staff did not situate themselves between the artist and fans, nor did they touch/push/shove aggressively. One member of staff hovered next to BamBam, but the scene was otherwise very intimate and exclusive.