Contributed by Jenn Perutka

I'm bruised, beaten, and drenched in my own and strangers sweat. This is all the result of the best concert I've attended all summer: Girl Talk. Promoting his new album Feed the Animals, Gregg Gillis brought his masterpiece mash ups to The Commodore last night and left the entire venue with dance fever.

For those who are mourning the loss of fresh fruits and veggies this winter season, have no fear! You're in luck, because the Winter Farmer's Market was just announced. According to http://www.eatlocal.org the WFM will be held on the first Saturday of every month, from November '06 to April 2007.

I discovered the pleasures of Wreck Beach long after I had moved to the west coast. For reasons all my own, the prospect of being completely naked, surrounded by hordes of other completely naked people terrified me. I am neither shy nor prudish, just add a dash of self-consciousness and expecting a nude beach to be like those featured in travel programs, boasting bronzed gods and goddesses akin to the sun worshippers to be found at other local Vancouver Beaches, and there you have my unwavering, irrational fear of Wreck. I have friends who had been going to wreck for years and I always had an excuse as to why I couldn't join them, preferring instead to soak up the rays lounging on my front porch with some ice tea and a book. This past summer, however, due to the insistent harassment of said friends, and my slowly fading negative attitude about my own body, I finally pedaled my way out to Wreck.

As of the end of this month I'll no longer reside in Vancouver. Instead, I'll be returning home to Ottawa in order to rejuvenate and refresh not only myself but also my bank account as an exercise in preparedness for my next great adventure: being overworked and broke, only abroad. Despite my eagerness to fatten myself up with my father's manicotti and take full advantage of my mother's impeccible clothes-laundering abilities, I will miss Vancouver very much. I've spent over four years in this city and have many memories. Some memories are good, some memories are not-so-good, but all are worth having.

The grand opening of Vancouver's Funny Bone was almost two weeks ago but I'm just writing about it today. I pose this question to myself: why has it taken me so gosh-darn long to record my experience? Could be I'm just plain lazy, or maybe it's because I was so blown away by the whole experience I haven't yet possessed the presence of mind required to write about it. Guess what me? The answer is...

Thursdays in the fall are normally reserved for Survivor. I make no qualms about being a fan of this ever-sinking ship of a show, but that's all changed with foray into the Italian language. Correctomondo, I'm currently enrolled Beginner 2 Italian at the Cultural Centre. In this segment, we move away from the normal, Mi chiamo Darren and head towards, Vorrei comprare una pizza e deux birra. It's basic conversational stuff, but as one moves on the difficulty increases. And yet, they still haven't taught me the swear words!

The centre is about as close to Italy as one can get (even more than Commercial Drive), complete with a cafe packed with old men playing cards, bocce courts, and a restaurant that is supposedly fantastic. I'd eat there if it wasn't absurdly expensive.