I wanted to see San Andreas this weekend, to improve my earthquake survival skills. Since I’m chair of the school’s seismic committee and all, it seemed like a personal responsibility.
But the movie got terrible reviews and, in a strange reversal of our usual roles, Min argued against an action flick.
I will have to wait for the Netflix version.
In the meantime, my kids went to Kidsbooks to spend some gift cards and my son returned with this:
Do you think paranoia is genetic?
I’m waiting for him to finish the book, so I can start my training.
A friend treated us to an amazing dinner at Yew last weekend. As in, lobster meatballs and spot prawns amazing.
But while I was there, I couldn’t help noticing this chamber in the centre of the restaurant:
It seems to have been designed specifically to scare the pants off those of us with earthquake fears. It’s a glass room lined with wine bottles, with a sculpture of glass shards above, suspended from a glass ceiling.
Do you think this a new treatment for phobias? Picture your own shard-pierced corpse while eating fancy fish? Maybe it’s the Vancouver version of fugu.