massages and congee

carrie brownstein says in her brilliant book (post forthcoming) something about wanting to shake things up and put herself in an unfamiliar situation to find comfort in adapting to that new situation, and finding home (i paraphrase to identify).

today’s post is a shoutout to two of my favourite little things that have become constants in my toronto life. the first is the sutherland-chan school of massage. i don’t even remember who told me about them, but i’ve been like the guys from high fidelity for at least three years-i just kept coming back. their $40 expert student massage is unbeatable, and now that i am so blessed to have such comprehensive benefits at work, i can at least go every month, and at any given time, i’m holding a free massage. the punch card is the truth-your fifth one is $5, your tenth one is free, and every time you refer someone, you get a stupid discount. jane is amazing, and it’s lovely to spread the love. the students learn so much that you can be confident that if you see them more than once, they’ve learned a multitude of things, and will adapt to your needs very quickly. every two weeks, i walk out of there grinning like a loon and massage-high. (also, if you’ve gone a really, really long time without getting laid, massage is a great way to experience non-sexual sensual touch).

the second is the preserved pork and thousand-year egg congee at gold stone. i don’t think i’ve gone two consecutive months in the past six years without eating this-it’s the ultimate comfort food. as noted tonight on my second date with horace grant, there are so many other things to eat at this cornerstone, but i always have to think twice, and 85% of the time, i end up getting this. the waitress with the leopard-print short hair is my favourite.

i am full and content, collected $13.25 and a perfectly-folded origami shirt out of my dream fund today, baby tate clearly said “i love you!”, and we won our exhibition game in the uk today.

overall a win over the mild disappointment that i think the spurs fan is a robot/catfish/14-year-old girl who never wants to meet up because they’re a sham-whomp whomp.

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