Maturing is subjective.
Aging is relative.
Age is objective.
What one party views as progression may be stagnancy for another; where one sees success may be failure to his/her neighbour. Yet, at the end of it all, life is merely a ratio of achievements vs. time.
Aging is relative.
Age is objective.
What one party views as progression may be stagnancy for another; where one sees success may be failure to his/her neighbour. Yet, at the end of it all, life is merely a ratio of achievements vs. time.
For the first time in my life, I was invited to a children's birthday party wherein the star of the afternoon was not a member of extended family. Although my coworkers expressed surprise towards my friends already being married and establishing lives of their own, I responded with an air of blankness: "We're all approaching or achieve the age of 30 - what were you expecting?"
Naturally, I've come to associate age with lifetime achievements - myself perpetually falling behind those with professional careers and unshakable relationships. Modern society begs to differ with these traditional values, though I'd allude those opinions to unwillingness to uphold oneself to a given standard.
Naturally, I've come to associate age with lifetime achievements - myself perpetually falling behind those with professional careers and unshakable relationships. Modern society begs to differ with these traditional values, though I'd allude those opinions to unwillingness to uphold oneself to a given standard.
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The journey towards Richmond Hill was not undertaken without some degree of irritation: consistently chaotic is the 404, where drivers in technology-equipped vehicles swerve into adjacent lanes without checking their surroundings (and sometimes without signalling altogether), and the Hwy 7 off-ramp, which granted me the pleasure of a van-driving, middle-aged lady diagonally drifting in front of me and crossing three lanes without any warnings whatsoever. Nothing could quite prepare me for drivers backing into oncoming traffic, or stopping mid-laneway either.
Driving in the east end of the GTA has always been unpleasant, but being subject to four different forms of driving terror within a span of thirty minutes was an utterly new experience.
Driving in the east end of the GTA has always been unpleasant, but being subject to four different forms of driving terror within a span of thirty minutes was an utterly new experience.
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The chosen location was the party room of a condominium building. Having reviewed more development applications in the past few months than my entire existence, I was already irked by the interlock corridors and one-way flow. As an experienced driver, I found the aisles sufficiently wide and signage ample and clear. For the sluggish, less skilled drivers, there was an obvious amount of incredulous confusion towards a relatively simple layout. (Clearly, the sleepy polar bear belongs elsewhere than the humble city of Sauga.)
Paved laneways aside, I managed to find the party room with minimal effort, for it was located in the lobby, just behind the security desk. Instructions provided prior to the party had also been exceptionally clear and comprehensive.
Paved laneways aside, I managed to find the party room with minimal effort, for it was located in the lobby, just behind the security desk. Instructions provided prior to the party had also been exceptionally clear and comprehensive.
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I strolled into the room to find the first few party guests, trays of food making their way towards the counter, and an extensively dinosaur-themed setting. From the photo corner to the colouring sheets to the scavenger hunt to the kids' paper cups, every element resonated with the chosen theme.
After settling in, I slowly maneuvered to the kids table and began colouring my own smiling dinosaur. Opting to serve as the role model, I adhered to most of the instructions, covering the body with green and stomach with orange. Only the background hue was adjusted as per my preference, though I made sure to indicate the selected palette for reference. It goes without saying that I also took pride in adding my name and the date to the top of the page accordingly.
After settling in, I slowly maneuvered to the kids table and began colouring my own smiling dinosaur. Opting to serve as the role model, I adhered to most of the instructions, covering the body with green and stomach with orange. Only the background hue was adjusted as per my preference, though I made sure to indicate the selected palette for reference. It goes without saying that I also took pride in adding my name and the date to the top of the page accordingly.
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While I have no offspring of my own, the gathering was a fun and profound learning experience. Of particular interest to me were the parent-child interactions, as well as the organizational efforts of the host party. Some parents dismissed opportunities for their child to summon curiosity, while others demonstrated a lack of awareness towards current events, creating a sense of disconnection.
Behaviour of the adult attendees was also observed. Some parents allowed their children to be disruptive (and destructive), neither halting the actions nor apologizing for the inconvenience caused. Many had departed the scene without bothering to clean up after themselves: partially consumed cans of beer, chicken wing bones, forgotten hair clips, streamers, and more had been discarded at odd parts of the room, leaving the organizers - and their volunteer helpers - to reinstate order.
These dynamic interactions were eye-opening, yet not necessarily a source of amusement. Personal joy had been attained via a successful colouring endeavour, completion of a scavenger hunt course and word scramble, and assisting with the DIY ice cream station. Who would have thought shaking half & half cream, sugar, and vanilla would be sufficient enough to produce an ingestible product?! The method was straightforward, though risked spillage if the Ziploc was shaken vigorously. A covered surface and gloves to prevent salt burn are highly recommended for the activity.
A variety of sustenance was provided at the party. The assortment spanned salad, fresh fruit (sourced from Too Good To Go), croissant sandwiches, potato salad, pizza, homemade chicken drumsticks, and Chinese classics like fried rice, E-meen, egg tarts, and even roast pork!
Cake would assume the form of a Kirkland-branded slab cake. Its Costco origins were identified from the very first glance, much to the surprise of those around me. Suffice to say that the quality of the cake proved consistent with my recollection: the somewhat decent chocolate sponge was passable, but the ultra-sweet, chocolate-less frosting and repulsive, tacky middle layer was exactly the abomination I remember it being.
Cake would assume the form of a Kirkland-branded slab cake. Its Costco origins were identified from the very first glance, much to the surprise of those around me. Suffice to say that the quality of the cake proved consistent with my recollection: the somewhat decent chocolate sponge was passable, but the ultra-sweet, chocolate-less frosting and repulsive, tacky middle layer was exactly the abomination I remember it being.
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Most attendees vacated the premises within two to three hours of their arrival. Whether the cause be restless kids in need to alternate sources of stimulation or haggard parents desperately searching for respite before the arrival of yet another work week, none had offered clean-up assistance - or even due diligence - before leaving. In that moment, it became apparent to me why some kids had been deprived of birthday parties while growing up: It was simply so much work.
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I lingered about until the 4:30 PM mark to assist with wrap-up procedures, for it seemed only fitting to contribute. The remainder of the afternoon would then be spent perusing the aisles of my favourite LCBO before meeting ochungg.
Pulling into the Hwy 7/Woodbine parking lot of LA Fitness confirmed the locals' general incompetence towards vehicular maneuvering once more. From walking behind a reversing vehicle to blocking the path of a three-point parking movement, I am perpetually perplexed at the audacity of those derelict of common sense.
On a Sunday afternoon, the central Markham location was found to be stuffy and atrociously busy. The demographic comprised of young males exercising in groups, with only a handful of women in the same area. Most were observed to be in their twenties or early to mid-thirties. A small percentage were relatively fit middle-aged men who had come with their wives; though, these wives may have taken to the pool or the Ladies' Fitness Area towards the back of the gym. This sighting differed from go-to location on Vega, which was typically quiet on weekends and used by both genders equally - if not, at least 60/40.
On a Sunday afternoon, the central Markham location was found to be stuffy and atrociously busy. The demographic comprised of young males exercising in groups, with only a handful of women in the same area. Most were observed to be in their twenties or early to mid-thirties. A small percentage were relatively fit middle-aged men who had come with their wives; though, these wives may have taken to the pool or the Ladies' Fitness Area towards the back of the gym. This sighting differed from go-to location on Vega, which was typically quiet on weekends and used by both genders equally - if not, at least 60/40.
Needless to say, I made a beeline for the area of greatest importance to me: the studio. The layout was nearly identical to the Vega location, with its horizon detailing ceiling. Despite being devoid of ceiling fans (like Hurontario/Eglinton), the space maintained a decently cool temperature throughout my stay.
A unique element of the studio was the presence of punching bags. The row of six bags had garnered quite a following from boxing and Muay Thai enthusiasts in the area, and were subject to constant usage. Jump rope warmups and combat drills were also witnessed by those hovering about the area.
A sparring duo had placed their belongings on the equipment bin behind them. The act had required me to divert their attention momentarily, for I would need to retrieve a pilates ring for my practice. Housed within the bin was an ample number of rings - all in super condition, unlike those with peeling foam at the Hurontario outpost. The boys were quite surprised at the availability of specialized equipment, likely a result from not attending group fitness classes.
A unique element of the studio was the presence of punching bags. The row of six bags had garnered quite a following from boxing and Muay Thai enthusiasts in the area, and were subject to constant usage. Jump rope warmups and combat drills were also witnessed by those hovering about the area.
A sparring duo had placed their belongings on the equipment bin behind them. The act had required me to divert their attention momentarily, for I would need to retrieve a pilates ring for my practice. Housed within the bin was an ample number of rings - all in super condition, unlike those with peeling foam at the Hurontario outpost. The boys were quite surprised at the availability of specialized equipment, likely a result from not attending group fitness classes.
The experience was great overall. I was particularly thankful for the stable Wi-Fi network, which enabled me to communicate with ochungg till her arrival and stream YouTube videos for real-time workouts. The Hurontario location also features a fairly stable network, but can be spotty in the corner of the studio. Meanwhile, the Vega location is absolutely useless: connecting to the network fails to provide even the most primitive sending and receiving functions for text messages.
Alas, I cannot hide my disgust towards the washrooms and locker area. Every waste bin was observed to be overflowing.
The changeroom had just five washroom stalls, one of which was closed and scheduled for maintenance. Another revealed explosive diarrhea all over the seat and lid. Its neighbouring stall, a somewhat decent one, had a broken toilet paper dispenser and overflowing sanitary pad disposal bin.
The changeroom had just five washroom stalls, one of which was closed and scheduled for maintenance. Another revealed explosive diarrhea all over the seat and lid. Its neighbouring stall, a somewhat decent one, had a broken toilet paper dispenser and overflowing sanitary pad disposal bin.
Needless to say, it was a repulsive scene that immediately slotted the gym in last place in terms of locker cleanliness.
As dinnertime rolled around, I proposed The Pho. Conveniently located in the plaza adjacent to LA Fitness, it was also an eatery I had bookmarked for at least half a year.
Frankly, I had been expecting a fusion eatery over a casual, family-operated quick service restaurant. Stepping within, I laid eyes on an interior giving off the same vibe as Dundas/Hurontario Pho Queen City. On each table resided a metal tray, which housed utensils and condiments, as all pho eateries do. At the corner of the table was a QR code, by which we could submit orders via a similar system to Petit Potato. Interestingly, the "24" pasted on the utensil cabinet did not align with the ordering platform, which had designated our table as "21A".
Frankly, I had been expecting a fusion eatery over a casual, family-operated quick service restaurant. Stepping within, I laid eyes on an interior giving off the same vibe as Dundas/Hurontario Pho Queen City. On each table resided a metal tray, which housed utensils and condiments, as all pho eateries do. At the corner of the table was a QR code, by which we could submit orders via a similar system to Petit Potato. Interestingly, the "24" pasted on the utensil cabinet did not align with the ordering platform, which had designated our table as "21A".
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The electronic ordering platform eliminated server interactions until delivery of food or request of napkins and bowls. With this in mind, it is pivotal to ensure that the "Complete Order" button is pressed to ensure fulfillment, as no one will check up on you.
Prices were admittedly extravagant for, dare I say, quality that does not match. Standard bowls of pho would ring in at $17 and up, with customizations such as dry noodles (no broth) and noodle swaps potentially tacking on additional fees of one or two dollars.
The Coconut Smoothie with Saigonese Black Coffee had been praised lavishly by ochungg at the time of her first visit. In consideration of the time of day, I took to the Coconut Milkshake instead. The milkshake was priced at a whopping $8.75, while the caffeine-infused variation assumed an eye-bulging $10.75 before tax.
Full encased in plastic, the drink was the first item to be delivered to the table. I enjoyed this smoothie thoroughly, though the price is nonetheless steep for what its constituents could be. Young coconut flesh, coconut milk, and artificial flavouring were presumed, for there was absolutely no discernible pulp. Albeit a tad icy upon serving, the formula gradually disintegrated to a milky, drinkable consistency.
Prices were admittedly extravagant for, dare I say, quality that does not match. Standard bowls of pho would ring in at $17 and up, with customizations such as dry noodles (no broth) and noodle swaps potentially tacking on additional fees of one or two dollars.
The Coconut Smoothie with Saigonese Black Coffee had been praised lavishly by ochungg at the time of her first visit. In consideration of the time of day, I took to the Coconut Milkshake instead. The milkshake was priced at a whopping $8.75, while the caffeine-infused variation assumed an eye-bulging $10.75 before tax.
Full encased in plastic, the drink was the first item to be delivered to the table. I enjoyed this smoothie thoroughly, though the price is nonetheless steep for what its constituents could be. Young coconut flesh, coconut milk, and artificial flavouring were presumed, for there was absolutely no discernible pulp. Albeit a tad icy upon serving, the formula gradually disintegrated to a milky, drinkable consistency.
My picks of the evening comprised of Bò Lá Lốp (Grilled beef wrapped in betel leaves) and Hủ Tiếu Mỳ Hoành Thánh, which was described as "sliced pork, shrimp & porks wontons with noodles in bold chicken broth". ochungg had taken to Satay bowl in redemption for her dismal Dear Saigon experience.
Shortly after placing our orders, two familiar faces appeared next to us. The duo doing boxing drills at LA Fitness were seated immediately beside us. We acknowledged each other's presence with a knowing smile, then returned to our respective conversations. By the 8:30 PM mark, their beef pho bowls had arrived, yet our orders were nowhere to be seen. Both of our neighbours had long departed before sustenance could be sensed.
The appetizer arrived after a painstaking thirty-minute wait. The rolls were served with a small bundle of dry noodles, pickled vegetables, and a broth-coloured dipping sauce. Each piece had been grilled to evoke a mild char, then topped with peanuts that bore not a shred of nuttiness, for the pieces likely hadn't been toasted. While meaty, a heavy dose of black pepper rendered the rolls exceptionally spicy. They were slightly reminiscent of the stuffed grapeseed leaves originating from Middle Eastern cuisine, being herby and laden with spices.
Shortly after placing our orders, two familiar faces appeared next to us. The duo doing boxing drills at LA Fitness were seated immediately beside us. We acknowledged each other's presence with a knowing smile, then returned to our respective conversations. By the 8:30 PM mark, their beef pho bowls had arrived, yet our orders were nowhere to be seen. Both of our neighbours had long departed before sustenance could be sensed.
The appetizer arrived after a painstaking thirty-minute wait. The rolls were served with a small bundle of dry noodles, pickled vegetables, and a broth-coloured dipping sauce. Each piece had been grilled to evoke a mild char, then topped with peanuts that bore not a shred of nuttiness, for the pieces likely hadn't been toasted. While meaty, a heavy dose of black pepper rendered the rolls exceptionally spicy. They were slightly reminiscent of the stuffed grapeseed leaves originating from Middle Eastern cuisine, being herby and laden with spices.
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I anxiously awaited the arrival of my wonton soup, unsure whether it would be delivered before the restaurant's closing time of 9 PM. Meanwhile, ochungg reached out to a member of staff regarding her order. When the staff noted that only one bowl was pending, it was learned that the "Complete Order" button had not been pressed, thus the order had not been finalized and sent to the kitchen.
Our wait ensued, prompting me to request my wonton soup in takeout containers in fear that I'd not have sufficient time for consumption. Plastic bags were provided at no additional charge.
Eventually, ochungg received her order. The onions were noted to taste "very raw", as those topping my own noodles had been. They were pungent, an indication that they hadn't taken soaking tips from Gyu-Kaku.
Our wait ensued, prompting me to request my wonton soup in takeout containers in fear that I'd not have sufficient time for consumption. Plastic bags were provided at no additional charge.
Eventually, ochungg received her order. The onions were noted to taste "very raw", as those topping my own noodles had been. They were pungent, an indication that they hadn't taken soaking tips from Gyu-Kaku.
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A scowl welcomed me when I voiced my concerns for indoor plumbing needs at closing time. At the very least, the washrooms (and dining environment) were decently clean.
We continued our conversation outside the restaurant after The Pho closed at 9pm, and then departed for home as it start to drizzle. Garlic-filled breath and excessive parchedness accompanied me for the remainder of the evening.
We continued our conversation outside the restaurant after The Pho closed at 9pm, and then departed for home as it start to drizzle. Garlic-filled breath and excessive parchedness accompanied me for the remainder of the evening.
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The following afternoon, I unveiled the wonton soup for tasting. It adopted a similar punch of MSG with a heavily salted broth. Within the container were dry, rigid noodles - the worst Wonton noodles I've ever had the misfortune of sampling - and starchy wontons needlessly spiced with black pepper. The sliced pork sheets were on the thin side, but thankfully not as heavily seasoned.
Back-to-back meals of The Pho had given rise to constant thirst, tremendous headaches, and a sore wallet. The prices were presumed steep given the convenient location and proximity to the major intersection of Hwy 7 and Woodbine, however the overall experience was wholly undeserving of the forty dollars (plus tip) I had relinquished at the end of my meal.
Should I return, only the Coconut Milkshake with Saigonese Black Coffee shall reside on my radar. Otherwise, I was hardly impressed with server attitude, food quality and value, and speed (or lack thereof) of delivery.
Back-to-back meals of The Pho had given rise to constant thirst, tremendous headaches, and a sore wallet. The prices were presumed steep given the convenient location and proximity to the major intersection of Hwy 7 and Woodbine, however the overall experience was wholly undeserving of the forty dollars (plus tip) I had relinquished at the end of my meal.
Should I return, only the Coconut Milkshake with Saigonese Black Coffee shall reside on my radar. Otherwise, I was hardly impressed with server attitude, food quality and value, and speed (or lack thereof) of delivery.
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