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22.06.08
One of the major benefits and drawbacks of living on one’s own is providing one’s own food. There is often a stylistic break between the food of one’s childhood, and the food one makes for one’s self. Like many others, I’m choosing to alter my diet to better attain my ideal weight. My method, unlike many others, involves a drastic increase in my intake of refined carbohydrates and saturated fats.
Of course, not being one to chow down on solid lard, I’ve had to find various subtle and flavorful ways of incorporating more fat into my diet. One way is the tub of Ben and Jerry’s sitting the freezer, which, with 42% of my RDI of saturated fat per serving, goes a long way. That being said, I’m not yet downing my entire half cup of ice cream at every sitting, but willpower is key. Another method is the solid brick of butter in the fridge. We weren’t allowed to have butter growing up; it was purely non-hydrogenated margarines, which I still find disgusting. Yesterday a quarter cup of butter went into some homemade scones, which nicely bumps up the calorie count at breakfast. For the main course, I have been dipping into a wide range of pasta. One usually starts a sauce by sweating some onions and other aromatics in a soffritto*, which requires some form of fat; a polyunsaturated vegetable oil? Have you not been paying attention? Butter? Not bad, but I’ll see your butter and raise you to bacon.
My new diet, combined with a rigorous routine of sitting in front of the computer, should have me ready for swimsuit season in no time.
*If it was French food, it would be a mirepoix, if it was more generic, it would be ‘sweating’, and if I was feeling lazier it would be ‘opening the jar’.
21.06.08
I had a wicked headache last night, the kind where someone has a metal band around your frontal lobe and is tightening it with enthusiasm. After coming home late, the elevator ride up four floors was enough to send me stumbling down the hallway in a state of dizzy nausea usually reserved for the more ambitious alcoholic. I got inside, dumped my stuff on the floor, and crawled onto bed fully dressed. I had a bottle of acetaminophen in the apartment, but it was new, and the idea of opening the box, undoing the shrink wrap, figuring out the lid, then breaking through the seal was several steps beyond my mental capacity at the time. All I could do was wish for sensory deprivation and sleep.
Two hours later I woke up; the headache had subsided to the point where I could haul myself off the bed, brush my teeth, change, and crawl under the covers. I kept the lights off for as much of this as possible.
The next time I woke up, it was morning. The light was coming through the curtains and I no longer felt like I was inside some medieval torture device. I tried to sleep off the remainder of the headache, only getting up when I figured most of the morning was gone. It was 8:45, according to the clock on the stove. One painkiller and one shower later and all was back to normal.
Happy National Aboriginal Day.
17.06.08
With my lovely 15 minute commute by bike, I’ve been sleeping in until 7am in the mornings: 7:45 one time when my alarm didn’t go off and I still made it to work on time without duress. This, along with not having to undergo the various stresses of public transit, has made a tremendous difference in my overall level of fatigue. Of course, now that we’re not partying every night, I can actually tell the difference. Yesterday I went to bed around 10:30pm and woke up at 5:30am. By 6:30 I actually felt like getting up, which I did, and went in to work early. It’s shocking, really.
16.06.08
Finally, a night in to catch up on work; of the last ten nights, we’ve been out for nine of them. Geez people.
06.06.08
The Saga of the Suit: Part Deux
When doing online research on buying a suit in the first place, I came across an intriguing company by the name of Indochino. Legend has it a UVIC student needed a suit and found himself in much the same quandary as myself; regular suits don’t fit, the suits that do fit are cheap, and fully custom suits at the major retailers are more than we want to spend. I have friends who have gone the custom route, but they do so on their semi-regular trips to Asia: land of low-cost manufacturing. Knowing this, our UVIC student and his business partners set up Indochino an online ordering system with bases in Victoria and Shanghai (and there’s the butt of the pun). You put in your (fairly detailed) measurements (because if you’re going to make someone pants, you really should ask “how big is your butt?”, despite the awkwardness), they make you a custom suit in China from ethical labour, you get it within two weeks, and it costs you less than off-the-rack. Their business plan is well thought out and worth a read, but I’m not going to repeat it for you, so just go to their website at indochino.com.
Still, there’s a big gap between finding a company online and willingly handing over a couple hundred bucks. I don’t do a lot of online shopping and I’ve been conditioned with more than a healthy dose of scientific skepticism, so if they wanted my money, they’d have to earn it. The question of overall legitimacy of the company wasn’t really an issue. They were profiled by fairly major news media (who I hope did their homework) and the blogosphere is peppered with their appearances at industry events. Additionally, it was reassuring to know that I could always show up at their Victoria office and raise some kind of minor hell, if need be. Their website is well constructed, though not without a few typos, misdirected links, and somewhat confusing structure (Kyle, Heikal, if you want a list, email me). What was of some concern was the lack of detailed information about the product I wanted to buy (the imaginatively titled “Black Suit”). There was some textile information in which the wool/silk blend was also listed as 100% wool, and three photos, two of the jacket on a form, one close up of the fabric. No images or description of the pants, no photo of the complete suit, nothing on an actual person. Additionally, I couldn’t find very many photos of people who bought a suit and posted photos of themselves actually wearing it. A few entries had people in the process or ordering, or thinking about it, or who had purchased merchandise and photographed it folded up. As far as reviews that showed up on a search engine, a few listed minor problems with the product (on the scale of buttonhole malfunctions), several were positive, and all were glowing about the customer service. It wasn’t until several repeated visits to the Indochino site that I found the “style blog” (really guys, that should be in the top-level navigation, not in the bottom corner). Their blog contained a high concentration of user reviews, which were the best form of advertising.
All that being established, it was time to see how they delivered. They have the very good option of having free fabric swatches sent to customers, to establish how a material really looks and feels. I ordered one and was emailed when it was sent out and it arrived soon packaged very nicely in a gold envelope. It looked fine, as exciting as plain black wool can be, and I was pretty sure it would be just fine; it was really an excuse to see if they could get something to me expediently and with good communication.
Objections having been overcome (why yes, I've done some marketing), I ordered the suit and nine business days later, a package shows up. I wasn’t home at the time, but the delivery guy says he needs an import fee paid on delivery. This was news to me, as the site implies all costs are included in the purchase price. Thanks to a clever sleight of hand on the part of Indochino, the import fee was kept minimal, and I didn’t have too much of a problem with it.
I open the bag-stuffed-within-an-envelope and find a wad of black wool. Not the most elegant presentation, but then if I’m paying for speedy shipping from China, I don’t need a box. It was nothing a cool iron couldn’t handle anyway.
It was moment of truth time; I could tell the pants were fantastic before I even did them up, no excess fabric anywhere and the waist hit just where I wanted it. The jacket was decent, a good fit across the shoulders, better than anything off-the-rack. The waist still had a lot of room (they did ask “so, how flat is your stomach?” in the measurements). A conservative cut, perhaps, or room for big dinners and future expansions. Still, I had the back taken in a little, if genetics are any indication, I’ll gain maybe ten pounds in the next thirty years. Indochino gives you a $25 credit for such alterations, though it’s been a couple weeks and I’m still waiting for that to come in*. Overall, I was pleased.
A couple days later I get an email from one of the founders, asking how I like my suit (how’s that for customer service?) I reply that it’s pretty good, and I mention the import fee. They tell me that I should not have been charged, and I was refunded the fee within 24 hours.
So I have my suit in good time and I’m pretty darned happy. Now to actually wear it out of the house, and if I’m feeling narcissistic enough, I’ll post photos.
*(04.01.09 So I never did fill you in. A few weeks later, I emailed them to see what was going on, their website wasn't very helpful, as it still listed my order as being processed. Again, I got a quick response crediting me with the $25 and fixing my order status on the website. I still haven't uploaded photos, but I was glad to see far more comprehensive photos come up on their website, so the need is not as urgent.)
05.06.08
Oh, so I moved out. The opportunity came up since a friend is moving to Ontario, and her apartment would be available. I jumped. Might be short-term, might be long term, but I'm liking it.
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