Magic Carpet Ride

Magic Carpet Ride

You know how it goes. Street rat in disguise woos princess away from her balcony with an offer to show her the world by magic carpet. She accepts, and it’s glorious. Fantastical. Amazing. Romantic, the kind of adventure a young girl would give her right arm for.

But I’m old and jaded now, and you know what? It’s a carpet. There won’t anything between you and the elements, no stable foundation for your backside, no one serving warm rolls and instant noodles, no inflight entertainment.

Economy class is a bit harder on the body. It’s a cattle car on a flying bus with a caste system. There’s the one percent – first class, with its hot towels and personalized care. Then upper middle class – business class, with its bags of warm nuts. Then there’s lower middle class – premium economy, the place where the more fortunate bob up from under, using their miles or squeezing the last drops of their life savings for slightly larger inflight entertainment screens and a bit more legroom. The rest of us ne’er do wells are in economy, herded together like a bunch of sheep hitching a ride to the slaughterhouse.

I personally enjoy nabbing the cheapest prices I can find, but you really do get what you pay for. It’s fine for short haul flights that take about two or three hours tops, but when you’re winging your way across the Pacific on a flight that lasts for forever in the middle seat and unable to stretch your legs (and really, much of anything) it’s an exquisite sort of torture. Exquisite because I know I’m going to end up somewhere nice, like Silliman University’s Founder’s Day celebration (yay!). Torture, because it’s fifteen interminable hours of being in one position, praying the passenger in front of you isn’t a jerk about reclining, that the people you share seats with won’t come with a squalling little human and that the stranger behind you doesn’t treat the touch screen monitor like a punching bag.

Worst of all, airlines never let you forget how much better you can have it if you just pay more. Why else do we peons get a glimpse of the business class section on our way to the back of the bus plane? With its roomy seats that turn into recliners, ample legroom and enough space to for others to respect your own personal bubble, business class is a glimpse of heaven on your way to hell. Wish you were here! It’s awful.

So to everyone who’s flown in to catch SU’s 117th anniversary and did it on an economy fare, I salute you. Loyal shall we e’er remain, indeed. Happy birthday, Silliman!

 

Image Disney/Aladdin

Internet Sausage Links

Internet Sausage Links

Yes, this is obviously a marketing ploy to get all of us to watch their movie when it comes out, but a little part of me still died inside at the thought of Keanu Reeves possibly being married to Winona Ryder all this time and not knowing it. The little part that always thought Keanu would be available for an impromptu Destination Wedding – EW

I read the words “new series,” “Romanoffs,” and “Matt Weiner,” then got all excited thinking we’d have a new, detail-obsessed historical TV show about the Russian imperial family. Instead, I got… this. If it doesn’t involve grandiose staircases in the Winter Palace, impossibly ridiculous jewelry and the Tsar of all the Russias, I’m out – Pajiba

Oh hell to the no – Mashable

It’s still considered an ad, you corporate double-speaking bastards – TechCrunch

Someone called the Crazy Rich Asians movie “A+ lifestyle porn,” and I couldn’t agree more. Jimmy Carter’s story since exiting the White House is the polar opposite. He may not have been the best, most beloved US president, but reading about his retirement and the life he’s lived since exiting the White House is like a punch to the gut in the midst of all the political and social posturing of this current climate – The Washington Post

Summertime (and the eatin’ is easy)

Summertime (and the eatin’ is easy)

And I was thinking this summer was going to be a bore. It’s been so hot, and the humidity is out the wazoo. I was spending quite a few weekends in because I’m a vampire and allergic to all that sun and UV rays. I’ve also had my share of humidity growing up in the tropics. As someone who’s already aging disgracefully, I don’t need any more help from this weather.

Just goes to show one must never say never, especially not when one’s favourite tennis player is in town for the Rogers Cup, aka The Canadian Open – the only ATP Masters 1000 event held in the great white north, one of the go-to warmup events for players to prepare for the hardcourt season which culminates in the US Open, and I’m pretty sure if you don’t follow tennis, none of that jumble of words will mean anything to you. So before you decide to just click somewhere else, here you go:

That was two weekends ago. In a heat wave. I braved a heatwave for that. If it weren’t for going to see Rafael Nadal practice on the hardcourts of the Aviva Centre for free, I would never get any sun. And now I’m kicking myself for not getting tickets to see the finals, because he’s just made his way into the finals of the Rogers Cup for the first time in a while. He’s also going to face the hottest thing on the #NextGen circuit right now, the Greek Stefanos Tsitsipas who is having the run of his life!

Speaking of mouthwatering and speaking of Greece, I’ve been to Taste of the Danforth, practically a Toronto summertime institution, a few times now and have no idea how I missed out on the awesomeness that is Foodland’s fruit stand. Just juicy, beautiful fresh fruit on a stick begging to be eaten – and at a price that can’t be beat. Large wedges of watermelon and mangoes to be had (extra sriracha $1), but my favourite by far were the strawberry skewers, which get a lovely amount of chocolate drizzled on them. It is HEAVEN. Five fresh, plump, juicy strawberries with chocolate on them for $2? YES PLEASE, YES, NOW, HURRY! All caps and exclamation points because that’s how much I love them. I used to go for the lokoumades, but now I will go for strawberry skewers, hands down, the end, exit stage right.

PS:

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Internet Sausage Links

Welp, a couple of these are REALLY late, but if you know me and you know my motto, you know it doesn’t matter! Actually it does, because this 24/7 news cycle we’re living in means news from two weeks ago is beyond stale and progressing into mouldering but who cares?

Billionaire? Yes. Self-made? Please.  – High Snobiety

From golden dwarf in Game of Thrones to  giant dwarf in Avengers: Infinity War to actual dwarf in Rumpelstiltskin, The Dinklage leans in and isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Thank baby Jesus for people who work hard for their money – Variety

Speaking of giving thanks and working hard, if you just heard the screaming of a jillion gays, it’s because Lady Gaga’s Vegas residency begins in December – EW

Why yes, a sudden deluge can result in flash floods that feature raw sewage. We’re lucky we live just a little bit uphill from all this – The Weather Network 

Why yes, Rafael Nadal is in town for the Rogers Cup  – ATP World Tour 

Ink, for people with commitment issues like me (why yes, I just might) – CP24

Speaking of issues, my other big one is trust. Remember when it took me forever to get into the Uber ride-sharing thing? Here’s an interesting take (and semi-long read) on the sharing economy, trust, and loneliness – GQ

Means to an Endy: The First Five Nights

Means to an Endy: The First Five Nights

Before anything, apologies for the photos – we unboxed at five in the morning last Saturday so the lighting is crap. Also, our bedroom looks like we just moved in. I really should get a rug and a few more doodads to make it look like a wet dream straight out of Pinterest, but the truth is I can hardly be bothered. The first thing that comes to mind when I think of random house froufrou is always how much cleaning am I going to have to do now? We don’t have a maid and I’m lazy. Still, I really should get a headboard, if only to annoy the elderly neighbours next to us with constant knocking against the wall, hint hint, nudge nudge.

Having watched the instructional video, the first few minutes were spent discussing how they could possibly have fit a king sized mattress into a box the “size of a hockey bag. ” If it didn’t say Endy on it, you’d think it held an extra large Christmas tree. It’s definitely a space saver, helpful for moving around corners. Obviously it only works when you’re buying it, because you can’t compress it again if you do decide to move somewhere else. Still, you couldn’t ask for a more convenient way to get a mattress – buy it online, they ship it to you (gratis!) and you get a hundred nights to see if you want to keep it. There’s a a full refund if you decide it doesn’t work for you, and they’ll send people over to collect the mattress, where it either gets recycled or donated to a local charity.

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Based on box size, he guessed fold + roll and he was right. It’s actually flattened, folded, then rolled and comes out looking like a gigantic Little Debbie Swiss Roll. We had a debate on the merits of compressing a foam bed so aggressively, but what’s life without a little belief thrown in?

The mattress is heavy, so if you’re working with a king sized one, make sure you have help. Or you know, do it yourself, but maybe not at five in the morning, because it’ll involve a lot of grunting and a few thuds here and there, nothing new for the Joneses next door, hint hint, nudge nudge, wink wink. Alright, I’ll stop.

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Anyway, once the box is opened, there’s a helpful infographic insert re the steps to take to get your Endy up and running. They also include a plastic cutter, which functions just like a letter opener (it IS a letter opener, and I’m totally reusing mine). Before cutting into it, you’ll have to maneuver the roll into the middle of your bed frame, get the plastic unrolled with the help of the plastic “tab” (a really long piece of extra plastic wrapped around it, think scotch tape when you first use it) then unfold. You’ll need to work fast, because it immediately starts to expand when it’s unrolled, and it’s not shy about it. (Think watching a sped-up video of a souffle rising in an oven. It’s that fast.)

It inflates VERY quickly and is ready for use almost immediately. I was going to give it at least three hours to stabilize a bit, even though their website says you can use it almost immediately, but it looked so enticing, we were lying on it after about half an hour. It feels like being in the arms of Jesus. To be fair, anything would be heavenly compared to our old mattress, but the Endy, which I had been apprehensive would be too soft for me, is actually just right. (So far.) It seems fantastical for a full foam mattress that came out of a box to feel so solid, but it does. The topmost layer is memory foam followed by a transition layer and then the support core. I was iffy about sinking into memory foam and feeling warm and icky, but it isn’t cloying at all, nor is it overly soft and you can almost feel the mattress working to displace your weight evenly. It’s also great at muffling movement; I can barely feel Le Hubs fidgeting around when he gets restless.

There’ve been notes about a chemical smell from the mattress, and we did notice it, but it goes away within a few hours and I’ve no complaints. So far, the first week has been going well, the sleep quality has definitely improved, and I’ll continue to keep tabs on our experience for the first hundred nights, so expect an update every so often!

Once more for the cheap seats in the back: this is not a paid Endy endorsement. I am in no way, shape or form connected to anyone behind Endy sleep.