Google is shutting down Reader on July 1. There is no shortage of complaints, petitions to keep it and reviews of alternatives. I myself am a Reader user, and fan. I have a number of feeds I scan every day…

I can’t remember, prior to relocating to #vancouver, when I have not used a gas stove. And I remember finding it a little odd last year while apartment hunting that all the stoves were electric. Same with house hunting. Electric…

Canada has this rule, this asinine rule, that so much of its radio content must be Canadian in some fashion, leaving about 10-15% non-Canadian, which basically means American music. I say it’s asinine because all of the #vancouver DJs only…

I’ve moved into a house with two other Asians and one other white person, all three of whom are Canadian and thus used to Asian cuisine. I’ve mentioned before how I’m used to eating at places where I can’t read…

Such was the scene at the Aberdeen Mall in Richmond foe the Chinese New Year countdown. Little hard to see, but that is part of the dragon dance performance. Tricky to get a good shot without elbowing the necks and…

Remember how the temporary place I was in last year flooded, and how I had to start looking for an apartment sooner than expected? Fast forward a year, and switch out “apartment” for “house” and that’s about the only difference.…

House hunting, it turns out, is more taxing than apartment hunting but also more fun as there are other with whom to share the experience. You can collectively laugh at the absurdity of a neighborhood as you drive out without…

So far this winter has been the opposite of last year. It was colder in #vancouver than it was in #chicago! And it rain. Every. Day. Made me wonder if I had made a mistake. Sure, Chicago is miserable in…

You know those days, those bad days where almost any other job seems more appealing? Or even just walking out in the middle of the day, heading to the airport and taking the first flight that is available? Yeah, I…

So here it is, 5:30am, on this third day of 2013. I’m standing in the kitchen of the house in which I grew up, listening to the ticking of one of Mom’s clocks, the chime of the half hour from…