There's cilantro in my burger

I'm exhausted. Hamburgers, wine and some good ole ice cream will do that to you.

I went to an impromptu barbeque at a friend's house, and in doing so had some barbeque style fixings I'd never have associated with a big hunk of meat before.

The bun was made of something not wheat. I can't remember the name of it -- sounded like spittle or spectle or something. (somebody please tell me!) And the burger was topped with tomatoes, red onions and avocado. And the meat had cilantro in it.

What a shocker it is to bite into a meat staple and discover your tongue tingling with the unexpected zing of cilantro. Quite nice, actually. I would recommend it.

Then we downed a bowl full of the infamous Greg's Ice Cream -- all deliciously homemade. I got a mix of roasted marshmallow and chocolate.

The roasted marshmallow tastes just like a smokey, browned marshmallow held over a blazing fire until it just starts to bubble and scorch. You have to try it to believe the flavour could be so accurate. Close your eyes and visions of smores will soon be dancing in your head!

Suddenly I'm hungry again. Time for some good ole water, and a healthy dose of sleep. G'nite.

Just face it

I was over scrutinizing hair products in the 24-hour Shoppers Drug Mart near my apartment when I heard it: the familiar hum of Japanese.

Two teens chatting as they weaved in and out of the aisles. They stopped to pick up a few Herbal Essences bottles, commenting on how popular they are.

Then, as they passed me by, they remarked how small I was. Likely, they were talking about my face.

In Japan, they couldn't say it enough -- to my face, right in front of my face, behind my face -- "My, what a small face she has!"

But before I had a chance to grin and shock the pair by saying in Japanese that I understood them, they'd turned the corner.

I grinned anyway. Natsukashii.