AUBREEVISION - Observations from the far side of the dial

Good morning, Vietnam!

Err...make that evening. And Mindsay.

I've returned from the booming metropolis that is Toronto. Got back on Sunday, actually, but it took a few days for my brain's smog levels to normalize. But now I'm here, I'm queer, and -- wait. Okay, just here. Evidently I've been spending too much time with my good friend Davey (whose prancing rendition of Rich Girl would do Gwen Stefani proud) and his boyfriend, extenders of good ol' Toronto style hospitality. Aside to Davey -- SWEET PEA!

It was a pleasant trip all told. Observations:

• What stinks more than a train bathroom? Not much.
• How can a restaurant, in good conscience, charge $12 for a skimpy martini? And who in their right mind would buy one? (Hey, I never said I was in my right mind. And apple martinis are the new something something.)

Trip highlights:

1. It's finally happened -- after years of being taunted by tales of Krispy Kreme, that primarily American bastion of deep-fried goodness (see braincrumbs for blog entry #18), I have finally, FINALLY, reached the inner sanctum. We passed one of Canada's few KKs whilst zipping around in the Daveymobile, and it was a non-negotiable stop-the-car moment. Krispy Kreme was like a dream -- conveyor belts laden with donuts fresh from the fat bath, destined for a sugar-glaze smothering. I had my picture taken with assorted Krispy Kreme signage and paraphernalia. And the truly astonishing part? 8 words:

Krispy. Kreme. donuts. live. up. to. the. hype.

Davey bought me a souvenir mug so I can always, always and always be reminded of this epoch in my life.

2. The wedding. Bengali rap and beaded saris, buttered chicken, bindis and booty shaking. Congratulations Dina and Heron!

3. Spending a day with a college friend, his wife of 2 years and the "children" -- 2 German shepherd mixes, a hound, 4 cats and a posse of appropriated lab mice.

On a Krispy Kreme-related note, my butt is apparently inflating. The conversational evidence:

Friend Matthew (of Highlight #3 fame, above): "You haven't been working out, have you? I can tell."

Me: "Umm, yes. Yes, actually I have."

FM: "Really? Your butt looks bigger." Pause, then unconvincingly -- "Maybe it's just the pants."

Let me explain that Matthew wasn't just being a jerk -- we have long made sport of pushing each other's buttons. Unfortunately for my ass, our teasing generally contains a grain of truth.

Long story short, this incident combined with someone else's recent butt-related teasing has left me a tad sensitive where my rear end is concerned. It's the push I need to shave off the 5 or 10 pounds I could stand to lose and have long been meaning to. I've got the exercise thing nailed -- the ol' diet, not so much. So I've decided it's time to employ the dreaded M word -- moderation. By this time next month, should have 5 lbs less junk in the trunk. Or wherever.

Mmmm....trunk junk.