Night on earth.....

Hi there - during her abscence Raspberry kindly invited posts from myself and fellow saints J-mo, Ridley and Ciavarro to keep her amused upon retrun - coming up with a theme that will allow the others to follow - well I'm first up it seems and here to tell the tale of a night on earth not easy to forget - sorry it's long, but the night was eventful and once you get writing sometimes it's hard to stop, right?:

“Tonight we show you one side of Moscow and then tomorrow Andrey will join you again but this time with his girl-friend and they will show you another side of Moscow”

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Ok, so you guys show me around tonight then tomorrow I sense there is a change of pace and I act all respectable - what are we going to do?

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Well maybe tomorrow you will do some things that when you go back to your people you can say that you educated yourself about Russian Artistic history, sampled it’s fine dining, visited it’s many places of cultural and political importance and then that you went to the Opera and how it was so very great and so very moving – people will think that you have really taken many good memories from this city.

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Sounds like a plan – how about tonight?
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Tonight well…. tonight you will see – but one thing I can assure you – there will be vodka

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Flat out fucking fantastic Vladi – say “Do'svidaniya” to our souls – and get well and truly motherless

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Motherless?

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Yeah – so badly behaved, you could be no mothers son.

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I’m a T taster by trade and I travel a lot with the work I do – I’ve been lucky and privileged enough to end up in all manner of strange corners of the globe from Peshawar in Pakistan to Vinh city in Vietnam – sampled the delights of Dubai and drank the all night juice of Jakarta – but one place that always stands out is Moscow – Those Russians…. Ay-yi-yi-yi-yi….. Those Russians…..

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The main things I initially remember noticing about the city where the wide open roads like airport runways, the expansive grey concrete buildings mixed with the colourful outlandish architecture of red square, the evening obsession with hanging fairy lights from everything, the unintelligible alphabet on all the signs and bare assed monkey nut cold weather – however these where not the lasting impressions Moscow sent me away with – no, the memories where much warmer – if a little hazy.....

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That evening would be my first big night out in the city - there where four of us – myself, Vladi – (bout 35ish meek and quietly spoken most of the time but a sharp mind, keen eye and always looking on the humorous side of life) Andrey, (bout 28ish, determined, ambitious, snowboarding brother from another mother who would die for his friends) and a feisty Chief Chirpa looking fellow named Mikhail who seemed to have an insatiable appetite for all that isn’t Holy upon this earth.

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I’m not a religious man – but I’ll bet Mikhail is on his way to hell one day – and he’ll probably enjoy it too – as long as there is vodka - which I imagine there is.

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The evening started with drinks (vodka) before a visit to a Georgian Restaurant called Pepo – this was like something straight out of Tolkein – seemingly built into a cave with huge wooden beams criss-crossing above these catacomb like enclaves that made up the dining area – you ducked your head as you made your way around – most of the light came from the flaming torches on the walls as waitresses in traditional Georgian dress served up meat, meat and more meat – all carved off huge skewers at your table.

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Cossack dancers span around in the background and they had a band singing traditional Georgian and Russian songs – emotive and boisterous and sung at full volume – the diners join in – especially when they sing something from someone’s home town – as they did for Andrey – boy sang his god damn heart out – standing on his chair, foot on the table, vodka in hand – tears in his eyes – fanfuckingtastic – Georgians really give it some kick when it comes to representing their village after a skin full of vodka.

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The Vodka – looked like Smirnoff Black from memory – could have been something much more potent – custom is to take a shot and toast the group every five minutes or so – broken up with bread and meat to soak it up – with the overload of senses due to all the singing, eating, flames and fine female forms, you don’t notice how quick four of you can get through a bottle – Vladi was taking half shots as well “after all – I am driving” – by the end of the meal i don't know how many had been dispensed with, two or three (Mikhail had really jumped things up a notch), but I do know that I was singing loud and proud along with everyone else – surprising how easy it is to start speaking Russian when you are three sheets to the wind and well on the way to being well and truly shit faced.

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The singing continued as we crammed into Vladi's battered old Nissan and drove to our next destination – round and round the roundabout we went – Vladi was enjoying the singing too much – I was involved as much as anyone – slap your thigh and sound like you are singing backwards at the top of your voice – no problem.

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Next stop Russian Massage Parlour.

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And more vodka.

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We bundled out of the Vladi-mobile and waited in the side street – we seemed to be off the beaten track somewhere, but then again most of Moscow appeared that way to me – very much off the beaten track - Andrey got a nod from a window above and we scurried in out of the cold and up several flights of stairs – the door was opened by a beautiful woman wearing a red satin negligee who beckoned us to follow her through to a small kitchen – I’m thinking definitely not a traditional massage parlour – more like an apartment – more like a…. the penny dropped – and then more similarly scantily clad girls appeared – and then more vodka.
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The kitchen was rammed with women, drink, song and our debaucherised selves – I was still the right side of ruined but could definitely start to feel myself slipping – a much dirtier version of Sophie Dahl was finely balanced on one knee and we were stumbling through a broken-English-wasted-getting-to-know-you kind of conversation – the statico purr to her voice had my attention and her hands were wandering – I needed to get my game back quickly so decided to try and dodge a few of the vodka toasts that were continuously being raised.

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Mikhail was boisterous by this point – he had been the fastest drinker, the loudest singer and the most voracious eater of the evening so far and he suddenly announced to me that his time was short so he was “going to go fock and then be leaving to my wife” – pure Borat – and with that he was off into the backrooms with one of the ladies in silk.
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Things moved to the lounge and then to the bedrooms and jacuzzi’s – I was heading off with the dirty Dahl double but was then joined by another blonde named Eva – I looked over at Vladi who knowingly smiled in approval and raised a toast – that man deserves a motherfucking monument I thought to myself as Eva pulled me into the room, closed the door and delivered a line that really sticks in the memory when spoken with a Russian accent “we will now strip your clothes – prepare yourself” - I left the room an hour and half later feeling pretty damn fine about all there was in the world – a permanent Cheshire-cat-on-coke grin etched across my face for the rest of the evening.

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An Ewok down due to Mikhail having long absconded, we bundled back in the Vladi-mobile and headed for a casino – after Eva and her friend had said their long goodbyes I was a bit lost for words, but Andrey was still full of life and buzzing – Vladi, as ever, had everything together and was seemingly still as sharp as a shark-tooth – which he needed to be as a problem in the form of the local police suddenly conspired to hinder our journey – Vladi dutifully pulled over – as you do when instructed by someone in uniform carrying a gun – and our exuberance ceased.
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It was a lot like watching a silent movie as Andrey and I peered through the windscreen - the headlights illuminated the falling snow and the meeting between Vladi and the policeman up front – at first the cop seemed to be explaining reasons, Vladi’s open handed gestures along with a smiling face followed, then the same from the policeman who seemed to be saying nothing while at the same time saying something - Vladi then returned to the passenger side, leaned in to fiddle with the glove box looking for documents, took something from his wallet and returned to hand them over to the uniformed obstacle to the rest of the evenings debauchery – there seemed to be a more light hearted conversation taking place as the doc’s where passed – then there were smiles and a slap on the back from the cop handing Vladi back his documents – Vladi waved him off and returned to us smiling.
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“No problem – we continue - with wallet a little lighter” he said as he put the Nissan back in drive – “Bribery – Russian style” added Andrey and the evening once again also kicked back into gear.
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The Casino was a fairly grand affair, as much as I could compare – I’ve never seen Vegas and my experience is limited – but there seemed to be enough well dressed folk surrounded by lights, noise and money to suggest that this was a serious set up – funnily enough I don’t think we really mixed too well with the patrons as we had obviously mixed too well with the vodka - after severely holding up a game of blackjack due to my lack of understanding of both Russian and the rules, I was swiftly lifted of a fair few roubles on the roulette wheel – "Roubles on Red! Shit!" gambling in such circumstances was obviously not working out - we were soon looking for the entrance to the in-house nightclub.

The bouncers took one look at myself and Andrey and decided that entry was simply not going to happen – Vladi didn’t protest too much as I think he kind of agreed with them – Andrey took it badly – as only a drunk man can – the whole world falls apart with one refused entrance – he soon brightened up when Vladi offered an alternative destination “Spearmint Rhino’s is still open…..”

I think it was either 4 or 5am, the night not yet over and all I could think was “Moscow – is there a better night out on this planet?”

got a machinehead (it's better than the rest)

ok kids so here we go.

i'm getting set to spend a total of 18 hours in a car and three days in a tent with someone i don't know that well. sure we get along. sure we affectionately call each other things like freak (him to me), pervert (me to him), hoser (him to me), retard (me to him - he reminds me that it's semi-retard). ah can you feel the love, tonight?

i guess if we can make it there we can make it anywhere, huh?

what to do, what to do. the far away person is having issues with the nearby person. he feels powerless and this is making him jealous. i point out that the distance *is* an issue - whether we want it to be or not. i would not be good with long distance, 'cause the powerless-ness thing would make me crazy. he asks what the architect has that he doesn't. the only answer to that is location, location, location.

well, and the fact that i've got no idea what it would be like to spend a big amount of time in the faraway boy's actual presence. could you do it? could you throw caution to the wind and gamble on a change so big, so earth shattering that, if you did it, nothing would ever be the same again? and keep in mind that this is coming from me - the girl who went camping to the far end of vancouver island for a first date.

the thought of it scares the shit out of me - could i let it all go and just slip into the currents? could you?

this is a throwdown, a showdown

yo this jam is amplified so just glide
and let your backbone slide.

ok so this weekend i'm going to that crazy drug fueled pit of sweet seductive sin known as shambhala. i'm leaving sometime thursday night, and most likely won't be back till monday. that is, of course, if the architect and i can stomach three days in a tent with each other. our first roadtrip. how sweet. heh. let's see,shall we? so what's a girl to do with her blog while she's away? sure j-mo has graciously volunteered to guest blog, and ridley can be counted on to weigh in, but let's see what kind of trouble we can get up to, shall we?

i think so.

here it goes kids. as of 11.59pm PST on thursday, august 10, it is ON.
this is an intercontinental international challenge - spo, malibu j-mo, ridley, and representing the west coast (wess coss mutha humpa) chad ciavarro. the first man to sign in picks the subject. no kiddie porn, no dead bodies (mine or otherwise) and no manatee mating (this means you, chad).

let's see what you got.

any ladies looking to log into this all star blogger weekend? sign up here. you know the drill.

it's gonna get sticky....

bad blogger

fuckinell i just haven't been here since saturday morning. it's not my fault.
i meant to post friday night - really i did, but i fell asleep at nine.30 and didn't wake up till nineam the next day and had to rush out to meet mikeb & the architect for brunch.

yes, i introduced the architect to mikeb.

we haven't had a debriefing, though, so i've no idea what he thought. it seemed to go well - they had stuff in common, and got to talk about me in front of me, which seemed to delight them both.

bastards.

we're going on a roadtrip to shambhala for my bday celebration. yes, i realize that my bday isn't until next tuesday (that'd be a week from tomorrow - seven shopping days, kids), but this will be my party. 'cause heck, why not party with six thousand other people if you get the chance, i figure....

the kiddo is up in peegee for a couple of more weeks.. i haven't actually heard from him barely at all. he called friday night when i was unconcious, and i've text'd him a couple of times, but that's it. le sigh.

ok i've had two glasses of wine and i'm starting to fall asleep. i need to make lists of stuff to bring with me next weekend (thursday night!)...

also - who wants to guest blog? ridley? j-mo? up for another round? anyone else?

open to falling from grace

i like the word opensure. my little brother - he's a smart one, that guy.

i have a dilemma. it involves someone who lives a long long way away - someone who i wish i were closer to, or he were closer to me. he reads this, sometimes. he knows who he is, and he knows what i'm thinking about. i don't want to talk about it too much 'cause then i start to overthink and sometimes just letting things be is the best way to go through life. why stress about something that you can't change, right?

le sigh.

i miss the kiddo.

history unfolds for you.. just shut your eyes

did you know that they opened a new cupcakes place up on broadway? how happy am i? now i don't need to go all the way into the bowels of the west end for a fix.

i introduced the architect to the glory that is cupcakes last night - we'd walked past on our way to the birthday dinner the other evening, but by the time we were on our way back it had already closed. last night i instigated a special trip before we went to watch fireworks. i, of course, had the 'diva', though i was sorely tempted by both the versace (marble cake with chocolate icing and a chocolate button) and the blueberry one.

as we were walking back to his flat i ran into one of TNB's good friends. it was a little awkward, but whatevs. it occurred to me after that i told him to say hello to his old roommate, but forgot to inquire after TNB's health. whoopsies. ah well. as we say in the business, who cares? oh that's not true - i hope he's doing well and that he's gotten over the whole wife cheating on him divorce thing.

i need some sleep tonight. well that's not to say i didn't get sleep last night - i had like 5.5, maybe six hours. i crawled into bed with the architect after the fireworks, closed my eyes, and didn't wake up 'til the alarm went off at 5am. i just need to get to bed really early and sleep straight through till tomorrow morning. i've been almost falling asleep every time i start driving in the last couple of days, and that's not a good thing. it's funny how your brain works though - how you can catch yourself thinking 'just for a minute. what's it going to hurt?'...

ah well - guess i should do some work....

make a mess and fuck all the rest

per wikipedia: "the decompositional perspective towards meaning holds that the meaning of words can be analyzed by defining meaning atoms or primitives, which establish a language of thought."

which is, i realize, some deep thinkin' for first thing on a tuesday morning.

i do, of course, have a point.

last night i went into town to have dinner with the architect and some of his friends. while at the table, his best friend leaned across and inquired "has he asked you to stop seeing other people yet?" to which i said 'no, i sort of did that on my own'. my major issue with the way people do internet dating is that if you were to meet someone at a club, or a party, or wherever, and you were interested in seeing them, you wouldn't be actively pursuing a multitude of other people at the same time. or at least i wouldn't.

so i figured that once we'd gone out four times (and keep in mind that date four was pretty much spending an entire weekend together) i'd just stop *looking* for anyone else. the architect and i were talking about this as we walked home, and i said something about us 'seeing' each other. he corrected me and said we were 'dating'.

to me, 'dating' is something you do when you are interested in seeing more than one person. when you are 'seeing' someone, you are only with them, but would not necessarily consider yourself in a full blown 'relationship'.

so, of course, i puzzled over his phrasing the rest of the way to his house. once we got upstairs, and he had fed me some dark chocolate with raspberries in it, i questioned him on his semantics. i explained my personal definitions, and said that, to me, dating was being with more than one person - sexually or otherwise. he replied that, until he moved here, his definitions were like mine. it's only since he moved here that he's rethought them, as it seems like women in vancouver think the opposite way from me. he said he wasn't interested in seeing other people - just me.

which, of course, i liked.

then, to prove his point, he spread a towel out on the floor and turned me into jello with quite possibly the best massage i've had in years. this, of course, i liked even better.

so, question of the day - what are the levels you pass through when you are 'with' someone? for me it's meeting, dating, seeing, relationship, end (via death of one of the two people or death of the relationship, whichever comes first). am i missing anything? do you have more/less/different stages?

welcome to planet sexor

uhhhh my brain is still kinda like cabbage...
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and with that insightful introduction i bring you.... raspberry sundae. shit.
and here you were hoping for my usual wit and wonder.... surprise!

ok weekend update - friday was a madcap rusharound packing of the upstairs office and moving everything downstairs. i had a mild hissy fit as certain people chose to sit around chatting instead of helping with the shitty file moving but whatever - these things shouldn't surprise me anymore, now should they? mm let's see.. drove the bosslady home, hit the banque, picked up sushi for the kiddo, tried on every piece of clothing in my closet, got back in the car and rush rush rushed to the architect's house. pass a roaring wildfire on granville street (american hippies infiltrating the city, burning raping and pillaging as they sack vancouver), fly up macdonald, park right out front, in the front door breathe.....

out the door in his car stop for beer drive aimlessly till we find the house of the boyfriend of his friend 'she's a little aggressive. if she pisses you off tell her to fuck off or tell me and i will' 'i think i'll be ok' she's lovely we held hands and danced but wait wait screeeech to a halt i went to jr high with her boyfriend and how weird is THAT. second house people drinking cake to be eaten ms u shows up dressed to kill. i drop a pill we swap shoes she can't do heels and dance all night hit the club. mstrkrft.

more drinks more drugs kissing in the dark feels so good show winds up hit the gorg dancing till dawn driving home via new west crawling into my bed pull the shades dog snoring on the floor lie there and twitch don't really sleep wake up kissing drink coffee drive to his house haven't eaten in 24 hours brain dead.

kissing fucking biting licking fall asleep under the fan no blankets wake up walk in the sun buy groceries get lost in the wine store bbq with candles on the sundeck pull out the hideabed movie in the dark crawl into bed mmm holding him in my mouth fall asleep wrapped up in his arms my head his chest.

8am alarm wait don't go morning is my favourite. he leaves i shower back in the car wander the drive brunch back to his place lie on the floor don't really watch the movie climb on top 'you really aren't fucking around this time are you?' 'actually that's exactly what i'm doing' fall asleep again naked bodies stuck together wake up eat ice cream kiss walks me to my car 'i had a really fun weekend, thank you' he says kisses me more slaps my ass drive home.

fin.

he doesn't look a thing like jesus but he talks like a gentleman

i love it when perfectly normal looking people turn out to be freaky - when they tell you that they like to be bitten too, in fact it gets them really hard; when you grab a big handful of their ass fingernails and all and they gasp and shudder with pleasure.

i kinda didn't expect last night to go the way it did.. was supposed to be dinner and dessert and wine and fireworks on the roof, in more-or-less that order. instead it went dinner, wine, fireworks, fireworks, dessert, fireworks.

of course two of those batches of fireworks were of the non-pyrotechnic variety, if you get my drift. no less incendiary, just not particularly for public consumption.

well, of course, with the exception of the poor person who opened the door to the rooftop deck without making noise sufficient enough to warn anyone that it was going to happen.

sheesh.

the nerve.

in other news... i'm about to have my house to myself for like the first time in four years... the kiddo is off to k-town and the folks won't be upstairs 'cause they are going to see my brother. it's kind of a weird prospect. i feel as though i should be throwing a kegger or something. alas.. i don't like most of the highschool kids in ladner so i'll pass this time. instead i'll probably just have the architect over on saturday night to get drunk on the beach in tssawwassen.

the kiddo is actually leaving next week to spend the bulk of august with his dad, so i'll be childless for like three weeks or something. i always feel really weird when he's not around - sort of lost. it's funny 'cause we can go for a few days without seeing each other fairly regularly, but it's different when i can't peek in on my way to work in the morning and see him and the dog stretched out on the bed, or when i don't see the evidence of midnight munchie runs or or or..

well, you know what i mean.

xo

it's like a little prayer

i was wasting time at work this afternoon when my (real life) little brother told me of a near miss he'd had this morning..

[13:52] raspberry's brother: oh, hey, i almost got run over by a nun today
[13:53] raspberry: WAT?
[13:53] raspberry's brother: i was walking across the street, in the crosswalk... the nun was in a car that was stopped, and so I crossed, and then she started going
[13:53] raspberry's brother: so i had to step back to avoid the rapture
[13:53] raspberry: LOL
[13:53] raspberry: she's recruiting
[13:53] raspberry's brother: she did not see me until she was right beside me
[13:53] raspberry's brother: i guess!
[13:53] raspberry: why should the jehovahs witnesses get all the fun?
[13:54] raspberry's brother: well, if they had told me that we were allowed to run people over, i might have not stopped going to mass
[13:54] raspberry: no shit, huh?
[13:54] raspberry: like you get points for how many people you take out?
[13:54] raspberry: i wonder if there are more points for sinners or less
[13:54] raspberry: like is it a sliding scale?
[13:54] raspberry's brother: must be! maybe that's what the points for driver's licenses are for
[13:55] raspberry's brother: well i would think we'd get extra points for taking out Protestants
[13:55] raspberry: well tithing is 10% of your income...
[13:55] raspberry: yeah you'd think
[13:55] raspberry: or those darned mormons
[13:55] raspberry's brother: and the gentle ba'hai!
[13:55] raspberry: omg the kaballlah
[13:56] raspberry: madonna i'm comin for you
[13:56] raspberry: can you imagine?
[13:56] raspberry: i'd be bumpin jesus from the right hand throne for SURE


oh wow i'm going to hell....

a rose on my birthday deathbed

day two of going commando under a skirt at work and i gotta say when it's thirty degrees outside and you come in from lunch, turn on the fan under your desk and oh-so-subtly spread your knees.... it's kinda orgasmic.

the general psychological malaise and crankiness i was feeling before my vacation has more or less returned. i'm not sure what to do about it. frontal lobotomy, perhaps?

another thing - does anyone remember the tv show 'boston commons'? i had a dream that i was getting married to anthony clark (or boyd, for former fans like myself) in mexico, and that he wanted to have the ceremony on the beach. i was strongly against this because i was unsure of how easy it would be for the photographer to photoshop all of the naked boobies out of the wedding pictures. this was of particular concern to me because my grandmother had made the trip down for the festivities, and she'd been sunbathing topless since her arrival.

you know.. 'cause that might happen.

you get me closer to god

he rolled over and opened his eyes, letting them run over my body, sprawled out on top of the blankets, bikini bottoms still on, arm thrown across my eyes in defense against the morning sunshine. the memory of his teeth marked my body - he touched it with his finger, his tongue.

'that's how you tell it was a good night' he said as he squeezed my nipple, rolled over and went back to sleep.

dirty dancefloors and dreams of naughtiness

i officially have a crush on j-mo. i can't help it. you know how i'm a sucker for the dirty boys... and one who can actually write?

damn.

i'm a goner, let's not kid. now i just have to convince him to come to vancouver and play with me tour the city. you know, see the sights, hang at the cambie and watch ciavarro reel in the manatees, stuff like that. good times.

so i got picked up at 6.45 tuesday morning (half an hour late, but hell it's vacation. cheeeelll wihnstahn...) i was with one person from that point almost continuously until nearly elevenpm last night. i thought i was doing well not not kill him *or* myself, cause, you see, there was no sex. nope, none. as i indicated earlier, this person was just... not my type. i need the chemical flashbang of attraction - physical *and* intellectual. from the neck down he was kinda hot... he just wasn't to my taste from the neck up. combined with the absence of intellectual attraction and it all adds up to pyjamas and a solo sleeping bag, no matter how much beer / wine / baileys i had for the evening.

it was a damn good thing i went to visit punkrockboy on the first day of my vay-kay, 'cause sucker was *dry*. the most action i got was the cute waitress at the italian place who was hardcore flirting with me as soon as ... shit i need a name... joe niceguy left the table for any possible reason. so anyway, it was a near miss with the no murder thing, 'cause at least if you are hot for someone physically, you can jump them every time they open their mouth. (see, i'm a FUN vacation buddy). when you *aren't* sleeping with them, you have to make polite conversation.

i'm being catty. he is a genuinely *nice* guy. and he did step up to go on a holiday with someone he's never met before - that takes some balls and i respect that. we just didn't connect. however, if you are in the market for a nice guy who will go out of his way to make sure you are completely comfortable and enjoying yourself (like to the point of running 1.5KM in each direction to bring the last two beer down to the beach yesterday for a final toast) let me know and i will send him your way with a great recommendation.

i'm slowly putting photos up on the buzznet...take a looky-loo if you so desire.. it really is a beautiful chunk of the world. tell you what, j-mo - if you come here before it gets cold i'll take you *there*. deal?

there are roads left in both of our shoes

ok so i'm back and alive, but my liver hurts and i'm sort of the colour of a christmas pointsetta - red on the outside with some white bits in the middle. i'll have some beach pictures later, but i didn't get home till almost 11 last night and was covered in sand and ocean from wave jumping and lying on a (mostly deserted, by the way) beach in the sunshine.

did i mention that my liver hurts?

so i noticed this week that i have little patience for people who are a little thick - like people who sometimes just don't get it, you know? i spent two point five days with one of those people and by the end of that time period i was rubbing my wrists vertical wise against the edge of the car door hoping to surreptiously open a vein.

which isn't to say he wasn't a nice person - au contraire. he was very nice.

just very ... thick.

s'all good - home now, sunburned, cocktails in my future (oh *this* is what coffee tastes like without baileys. i had forgotten...), gonna hang with the kiddo and try and stay out of the sun for a little while.... ok maybe not the sun thing. let's not kid - i'm a sunchild leo cat who stretches in the heat with a sigh of contentment, letting the rays ripple off her body. it's all good. i just need to reapply sunscreen reapply after seawater exfoliation....

missed you xo


ps thanks j-mo for the fun post...

Substitue Blogging

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Danke Schoen, Auf Wiedersehn, Danke Schoen

ok one last post before i wander off to either certain doom (picture raspberry hitch hiking down the island highway, tent in one hand, cooler full of beer in the other) or certain fun (picture raspberry staggering towards the beach, sunscreen in one hand, half-full bottle of red wine in the other).

however, do not fret, my friends, i am leaving you in the capable hands of ridley.

he doesn't know this yet, but i figure he'll find out soon enough.

or j-mo, if he wants to write dirty. hang on, i'll send the invite... annnnnd done.

hm. this could get interesting.

bye kids! don't fight with your sister and be good to grandma while i'm gone.

xo

and just because..

celebrating the freedom of speech, read possibly the funniest post ever written (thanks spo), as well as the reason ridley ain't gettin married anytime soon.

ah this shit (heh) kills me.....

lotta love a lotta luggage for a lotta reasons

so i've been, of late, a little lax in reading through my blogroll - not for any particular reason other than the fact that it's been way sunny out and i've been busybusy and stressed out beyond comprehension.

so anyway, today i was flipping through the list when i came across this post by the hot librarian. you know, i'm ...

i'm not even sure what i want to say at this point. the post itself is interesting to me because i, too, hit puberty at a very young age. i remember what it was like to be in PE class and get hassled by the other girls because i had breasts when they didn't - and the thin tshirt fabric of training bras does *nothing* to shield you from chilly gymnasium air, if you get my draft. i mean drift. *ahem*.

as well, i know what it is like to be called a slut for.. well every reason imaginable - whether i deserve it or not. but whatever - we've btdt in this blog (discussed my slut-dom or lack thereof, i mean) and i don't want to dwell on that particular topic again.

what i really wanted to point out was a blog thread which branched off of thl's original post. fatwalker says "The Hot Librarian is in need of prayer. Less anger and profanity. I suggest Heartcall: The Call to Prayer.365 daily devotionals from women that will encourage, teach, and unite women to pray evangelistically for lost women". fans of the hot librarian immediately rose to her defense - she is an articulate, interesting, and downright funny writer - but for me the larger issue is not thl's slut-dom or purity, but rather the implication that only 'morally right' (in both senses of the word) people should be librarians or, to broaden the spectrum, teachers.

i have some major issues with this. shocking, i know.

first of all let me quote my own comment to fatwalker: "libraries should not be 'wholesome' because that term is very exclusive - which is to say that it excludes all texts determined by the overall power structure to be *not* wholesome. in setting up this oppositional structure, we risk censoring (yes censoring) the artistic voice and the individual right to freedom of expression. how many books, which we now consider great works of literature, were once banned because they were considered 'not wholesome'?" the nazis burned books which they thought to be unwholesome. indeed, every civilization governed by extremest voices (including the united states) has attempted to silence any voice which it determined a threat to its own dogmatism.

who decides what piece of art, what text, is fit or unfit for public consumption? in 1999, a highschool in savannah, georgia that required its seniors obtain parental permission to read hamlet, macbeth and king lear. on the other hand, the canadian government has fairly strict anti-hate laws set in place to protect its subjects from vitriolic propaganda such as holocaust denial, white power literature, and other hatemongering trash. but can we make that distiction? does freedom of speech not apply unilaterally? how can we say 'my friends and i can say what we want but, since your opinions, or lifestyle, or skincolour, differs from ours - you cannot'?

where do we draw the line? can we trust our governments to keep libraries secular? or, does religion belong in the libraries and schools, in the seeming absence of a larger societal morality? at what point is the governing body protecting its citizens, and at what point are they engaging in censorship?

further reading:

• banned books online
• book burning - a true christian tradition
• targeted authors of the nazi book burnings
• kidspeak - sticking up for freedom of speech for children

take a picture of something you see

so i've been a music downloading machine the past few days - like i cannot even begin to describe how the sheer joy being visited upon my by the piracy. that damn johnny depp and his wiley ways....

as long as i don't start *running* like that, i will be ok with the bad influence, that's all i gotta say.

so two weekends - two movies and the two could not be further from each other than... green eggs and ham.

so a brief comparison of disney's 'dead man's chest' and art linklater's 'a scanner darkly'

1) dead man - based on a disneyland ride; scanner - based on a philip k dick novel.
2) dead man - stars johnny depp, a dynamic actor pretending to be a cartoon; scanner - stars keanu reeves, a wooden actor rendered dynamic by being turned into a cartoon.
3) dead man - live action film that acts like a cartoon; scanner - cartoon that acts like a live action film
4) uh yeah that's all i've got.


comparing these two films is like comparing ... well, apples and oranges to utilize a cliche. i really enjoyed both - despite the negative reviews, i thought dead man's chest delivered exactly what it promises - a rolicking swashbuckling good time. no plot? what were you expecting from a disney movie based on a THEME PARK RIDE for fuck's sake. scanner, though, is possibly the best filmic interpretation of another medium that i have seen since... well possibly ever. i asked the kiddo, as we were getting up to leave the theatre, what he thought. he said, in kind of a shaky voice, 'i don't know yet. i have to process'. when we got out to the parking lot, i asked him again. 'it blew my mind.', he stated simply, and i had to concur.

when i got home i chatted on msn to a friend who had also just seen it. we were both kind of shellshocked. it's a GREAT film. go see it.


ps - if you are into hiphop at all, find a copy of dj format - fabriclive. great GREAT set.

xo

relax don't do it (when you want to)

oh this vay-kay is off to a fine start. after waking up completely randy, chatting on the 'puter, downloading some wicked tunes (i highly recommend the herbaliser - fabriclive), i went downtown to have lunch with mr.pessimist and went on a hunt for thai food...and then... oh then my friends, i went to the westbeach sample sale and spent like a madwoman. i got the kiddo a great snowboarding jacket and a hoodie for $45, picked myself up a couple of hoodies for $15 each, got the sister a skirt and a tshirt (both for $15)... oh and a rainjacket for me for like $20. craziness, i tell you. craziness.

then, oh and then my friends, i responded to one of punkrockboy's text messages and headed over to his place for a visit. sometimes having a booty call is a very good thing. and, because i'm sweet, i even gave him a ride to work. of course he repaid me by commandeering my leftover red curry.

oh and giving me a couple of orgasms.

that's fair, i figure....

sweet mother of god - finally!

ok so i'm on vacation. true to form i was awake before 7am chatting with j-mo and surfing the internet.

sadly, i did check my work email first thing. i have to stop that. cut myself off.

i am feeling... erm.... how can we say this delicately... fucking horny this morning. like it's one of those mornings that i wish i could roll over and climb on top of someone and just ride away until i was sated. sadly, it's just me and my auxiliary closet space here on the bed, and i'm not that in love with my clothing yet.

yet. give me an hour or two. that sundress is sass-syy man. damn.


so on tuesday i'm going on what is quite possibly either the a) coolest first date ever, or b) stupidiest first date ever. i'm going over to tofino to camp for two days and take a surfing lesson. like, if this works out it's going to be awesome. if it doesn't work out it will be two grueling expensive days of awkwardness and boredom. sure it's a bit of a gamble, but damn - first of all, i'm super excited to be going away at *all* on my holiday, 'cause i didn't really want to go alone, and second of all, anyone who is willing to spontaneously go camping with someone they barely know is cool, 'cause that, clearly, is something i'd do.

so yeah, i'm excited. am i crazy? oh yeah possibly. but i'm a *cute* crazy person....

broken telephone the lines are down i throw myself at nothing

melancholy madness
i'm digging through my past
dusting off the memories, emotions
trapped between the pages of
long forgotten novels and
candles wrapped in newsprint.
why do i keep this the detritus of a life
i forgot how to live.
who am i here in this place where i lack
connections in this time when i have only
songs that
other people wrote
to remind me of myself.

someday you'll wake up and say my god i should've

i don't know if i'm just really worn out, if i've got nuclear pms or if my meds aren't working anymore. i do know that i feel as though i'm rushing down the river past people and experiences - i'm reaching out towards them, trying to hold on, but they're slipping through my fingers like quicksilver rapids.

the sister heard from cruiseship boy today. he quit his job with cruiseship a to do the same job for cruiseship b. he really liked me but stopped emailing 'cause he was freaked out by distance / lives / all that bullshit. nothing new there.

also talked to carlot boy just a little while ago. he told me he had to stop himself from spending time with me 'cause he really liked me and work always got in the way. he said he kept in touch 'cause he kept hoping i'd push him over the edge. i professed skepticism at this statment - if it was going to happen it would have happened by now, i said. he said, no, i'm different. you'll figure me out someday.

i feel like the record is skipping playing the same six notes over and over again.

our lives on holiday

so i went into my boss' office on friday, looked her in the eye and told her i needed a vacation. i can't wait till august - i'm tired, i've been running on fumes emotionally and physically, and i'm on the verge of burning out.

more specifically, i'm finding it really hard to care about my job right now. because i'm the kind of employee that i am, she knows that i'd never say such a thing to her if it weren't 100% true, so i'm working monday-thursday next week then am off for a week. i don't think i'm going to do anything - i just need the time off.

not to mention the fact that i helped mikeb move today. the chaos of the experience (and this was a smoothly run one with lots of help and good spirits) has doubly inspired me to go through my belongings and do away with anything superfluous.

i, my friends, own a lot of crap.

i've been living on my own more or less since i was sixteen years old. i did jettison a great deal of it when i moved down here, but i still have reams and reams and piles of *stuff*.

especially books.

and clothes.

le sigh.

oh here's a blast from the past.... r- has been trying to hook up with me in the ... erm ... biblical sense all weekend. this only happens when he's either a) broken up with his gf; b) not getting along with his gf; or c) away from his gf for a few days. i declined the opportunity. yay me....

i don't know if you're looking for romance, or

so i think that the only really *bad* experience i've had with this whole online dating experiment is the stalker guy - you know, the one i was mentioning who was texting me all the time, and telling me he missed me, and crap like that. i basically turned him into an interesting anecdote - my lava horror story, if you will - and promptly forgot about him beyond that.

yesterday, out of the blue, he resurfaced. i received an email which read, simply, 'oh and by the way, you are full of shit.'

now i've not been in the *best* of moods these past few days, and something in me snapped upon reading this. i basically laid into him, saying that if he thought he wanted the truth from me then fine - here it is, and i laid out for him how he reeked of desperation, and that his 'i miss you' neediness was pathetic. i told him to grow some balls.

this, of course, isn't the smartest thing to do when one is dealing with the mentally unstable.

he responded back with a bagload of vitriol - basically calling into question my morals and my abilities in the bedroom (ha!). i told him he had a small dick, and that he was crazy. he started foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his body began flopping about as though he was channelling the psychic energy of a semi-putrid mackeral (ok i don't know what he did just there - i made that up). i asked him why he couldn't deal with the fact that i just wasn't interested. i said we'd gotten drunk and made out, and i regretted it. i told him that i'd tried to muster up some interest and couldn't, and that we were both adults so he should just deal.

he responded very cryptically: "fucking freak. see you at the village tonight".

what the fuck?

what does THAT mean?

i don't know if i should be looking over my shoulder every time i leave the house, or if he mistakenly emailed me at the very beginning when he was *actually* stalking and tormenting yet another unsuspecting female.

either way - i deleted my online profiles. it's left a bad taste in my mouth.

if you don't consent to just let it be

oh my oh my but i am sleepy as all get out, and am deep in the throes of a highly impressive cranky. which is interesting 'cause last night i was on a second date with a boy who i immediately felt comfortable with - like as i entered the restaurant for brunch on sunday and gave him a big hug and apologized for my late-ness, i felt as if i'd known him a thousand years, not six seconds. last night was the same - laid back date full of laughing and him treating me like a princess. he opened doors for me, wouldn't let me pay for anything, took me for gelato, let me pick the movie, and sat with me in the dark on a bunch of cushions eating dark chocolate and drinking my new favourite red wine - out of the bottle, even.

mind you i was in this cranky as i left work yesterday, and straight up until the point that i saw him standing on the side of the road in front of his condo so that i would know where i was going. then it simply evaporated, and didn't return until i walked through the doors of the office this morning. i could feel my legs become leaden with every step of the stairs - reaching the top was an effort, indeed, and as i sit here writing i know that it's only going to get worse as the day passes by. unfortunately the boy is going away for a few days and so i won't see him till the middle of next week at least. beware - may be a few days of righteous bitch coming up. i feel like samuel l in pulp fiction And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.

le sigh.

the sparkle in your eyes keeps me alive

best
horoscope
ever

With all the indecision you've been fighting lately, you may lose sight of the clear choices in front of you. The biggest is your choice to be happy. Reject the self-imposed standards you've been struggling with -- frankly, they're too unrealistic -- and choose to accept yourself. There is no such thing as perfection, and aiming for it is almost an insult to what you're right now. Cherish all your faults -- don't change the things you love about life.

so i'm on the last day of my four day weekend. i've lost count of how much i've had to drink, and how much gelato i've eaten (heck i even went out and bought some yesterday to eat at home. i can have gelato and beer for breakfast, right? i mean, it *is* 7am).

today my dad is having surgery to begin this highly experimental treatment for depression called deep brain stimulation. my mom is already down at the hospital with him - he had to check in at 5.45am this morning - and then my brother, sister, and i are going down to hang out in a couple of hours. it scares the crap out of me - when they first started talking about it, it gave me total anxiety attacks to even be part of the conversation. now i can bring myself to *say* it, but i can't really *think* about it too much.

what's scariest for me is how much stake he's putting in this procedure. after the upswing at christmastime, and how distraught he was when it didn't last, i think he's put all his hope in this procedure. i have no idea what it will do to him if it doesn't work. he might just give up.

i couldn't say goodbye to him last night before i went for dinner with mike - i had to leave, then call and tell him on the phone that i loved him and how brave i think he is. if i'd done it in person i would have started crying and i don't know if i could have stopped, you know? i'm sure it will all be fine, but when you open up the brain there is just so much that could go wrong...

take a sigh as long as the war's been going on in your heart tonight

wham bam two posts in a row. don't use this as a poor excuse to not hit the link down below and check-check-check out that sweet mashup. thanks ct over-dee for the tip.

so it's been an interesting weekend. i am now the happy owner of a macintosh g4 (i am torn between McIntoy and McAroni for names), as my (real life) little brother (as opposed to my spiritual lil brother) got a powerbook from my parents for grad. this type of hand-me-down i can SO live with. it's got a few issues - i guess there is a design flaw in some that make them randomly shut down on occasion. my papa thinks he has it fixed - it's been running since wednesday night, and i packed it around in my bag snuggled up against this one (unnamed 'cause it has no personality, really)(don't crap out on me now, baby....) with seemingly no adverse effects.

this is what i want to do today:

i want to put on a pretty sundress, go for brunch with someone who thinks that i rock and i'm the most beautiful girl in the world; i want to hold hands, wander around granville island, and do sunday sun-day things. yup. that's what i want to do. sadly it seems as though i'll be doing it on my own.

le sigh.

it always comes out the same.....

http://www.myspace.com/djsussex

put your hands up in the air, put your hands up in the air

donald glaude was so good last night. i love how he gets so involved in the show - lowering the music and shouting at the crowd, throwing his hands up, loving the vibe and the beat and the lights. add to this the fact that the divine ms u and i went berry picking in the sunshine, then had dinner on a patio with the sister and the sister's boyfriend and some other friends before heading out on the town and you have a contented sundae.

i was home at 2.35, in bed at 2.55, awake at 6.05. oops - half an hour late but whatevs, it's the summer. i NEED some sleep. like lots of sleep. like a solid 10-11 hours of sleep, and maybe some napping on the patio, and some corona. must stop at beer store on the way home.

i was also very good last night - not only did i keep the drinking to a bare minimum, but a hot 28yr old tried ever so hard to take me home. i revelled in the attention then left on my own. i will, however, catch some shit from my sister; it doesn't matter that i totally did not initiate the contact or pursue it in any way (au contraire, mes amies - exactly the opposite), she'll be pissed at me for it. i need to have the 'you and i are different. you need to stop making me feel like shit because you don't understand who i am, since i never do that to you' conversation with her. le sigh.

when someone has my attention they really do have it. i must endeavour, however, to keep myself at least moderately detatched until i know more about this person. he seems so.... transparent is not the word i'm looking for. i don't know - i guess he just seems to be exactly who he says he is. this is refreshing, because that is how i strive to be. the whole game playing aspect to dating wearies me - if i like you i like you. i'm not going to pretend to be indifferent to make you want me more. see, this is why i'd make a horrible sales person. i'm just not good at the catch-and-release.

this is my horoscope today:

It's all about coordination -- put yourself in the middle of any chaos, and you will thrive. As a matter of fact, the wilder the energy is around you, the happier you will be. While others are pulling out their hair or panicking over a tight deadline, you'll be like a machine -- coolly putting all the pieces exactly where they need to be. You have finally mastered the skills you've been working on for so long, so get ready for a new phase of contentedness.

it's an interesting one to read since i have begun to feel a general acceptance of who i am and where i am - something that has been missing in my life for the past while. this is not to say that i am becoming complacent - if anything, i find myself in much the same state of mind i was in back when i was excited by my education and my future; back when i felt in control of my destiny rather than like a dustmote dancing in sunshine. some of it may have to do with having concrete goals to work towards (though if i am going to save a tidy enough nest egg to have a furnished home in a couple of months, i really have to cut down on the going out. two nights in a row is quite out of control on my new-found budget.)

ah well - my brain is non-functioning, it's the friday before the long weekend, it's beautifully sunny, and i'm wearing pigtails. this calls for more coffee and a little craigslist surfing for fun household goods...

when the dares pick a victim, the railroad blues will play

oh man oh man i need some sleep, kids. i've been averaging 4.5 - 5 hours a night for a week now, and it's starting to wear on my psyche... which is to say that my eyes have that sandpaper feeling, my tongue seems too big for my mouth, and my hands are shaking like a crackhead at a plumbers' convention...

i've officially decided to not take yoga this summer, and put the money instead towards buying some of the housewares i shall need for my impending move. i'd really like to go away this weekend, too, but can't for the same reason. also 'cause one of the two people (mikeb) i'd like to go away with is going away with someone else (more on that in a moment) and the other (i believe) has to work. the whole no-structured yoga thing means that i'm going to have to try and be more diligent about actually doing some at home or else i will become fat, and not the in the fun ph-way: let's not kid - i'm a 5'3 blonde. a ghetto booty would just be a step into madness on this body.

so mikeb is going away with one of his ex-girlfriends this weekend. this concerns me on a couple of levels. now, keep in mind that mike is like me. he will always give people the benefit of the doubt before he acts to protect himself. he's as bad as i am at seeing people's ulterior motives when they have to do with him. so.. he sticks up for me and i'm intensely protective of him. heck someone's gotta do it, 'cause neither one of us is doing it for ourselves...

so my issues: first off, mikeb has held onto this girl as the epitome of women he wants to date. i worry that he has, in retrospect, put her up on a pedestal that won't hold in real life. it's good to have these people in the back of your mind - they give you standards to work with when dating. i'm not sure, however, that it is good to actually revisit *dating* these people: what happens when they (as they surely will) fail to live up to your memory of them? not only will your illusions be shattered, but your whole dating paradigm will become tarnished.

secondly, i'm not sure i trust this girl with my mike. i don't know what her intentions are, and i know that (since mike does have rose coloured glasses on when this girl is involved) she has the power to hurt him. i know that she has done it in the past year. i won't stand for it again. i will cut her in pertinant places, duct tape her hands, feet, and mouth, and drag her out to the swamp for the alligators.

now mikeb is a big boy and he's free, of course, to make his own decisions and even though i love him with all my heart i cannot shelter him (even though i want to) from hurt and heartbreak. however, he is my best friend and i do have these reservations and i've told him exactly how i feel. i've tried to make sure that, when i get agitated at him spending time with this person, he knows that i'm not judging him or questioning him, i'm just being defensive of him and trying to act as a best friend should - ultimately i will stand by him whatever he decides to do, and be here to support and/or console him if necessary, or celebrate wtih him if that is the case.

the female, however, has some work to do before i'll consider her anything less than poison.

it's curtains for the cretins when they cut these strings

so last week i managed to catch part of my favourite documentaries (legendary sin cities - produced by the cbc). it was part one of three, and talked about the artistic culture of paris in the 20's (a subject near and dear to my heart, as you know). last night i lucked out and happened upon part 2 - berlin in the 20s and thirties... fascinating stuff. it amazes me how a society will take itself to the brink of decadence (liberation?) and then be repressed so dramatically in retaliation... i bring this up for no reason other than the fact that i'm going to see cabaret this evening and am kinda excited.

whoops kinda lost the plot there, didn't i? lol (you can't tell, but i actually forgot i was writing this and wandered away for an hour)

ok i'll try and give a review of the show etc later.... xo

sweat box, laser beam, flashin lights

he's probably reading this right now thinking about the same thing i'm thinking about not knowing how it makes me feel... that deep down guilty hand in the cookie jar feeling springing up from the dark places in your psyche. this sensation is the reason that sometimes, sometimes, you leave the blinds just... cracked... slightly. why when your soon to be lover comes to visit, you go into the next room to change and oops forget to close the door. why when you are out you sometimes let your top slip a little deeper skirt ride a little higher hands brush lightly linger a little too long.

will he catch me? does he know? can he see.... this?

and never kissed a girl

so now that i've 'outed' my self and my blog to someone i'm interested in, i'm wondering to myself in what ways it will impact the way i write. it's not like mikeb - he's known me from the beginning of this thing, reads sporadically if ever, and... well... accepts me for who i am - midnight escapades, temper tantrums, navel gazing and all. he's my bestest friend - that's what he's supposed to do.

i could never, on the other hand, tell the sister about it. if she ever found out, i would have to cease and desist immediately and go into hiding - like we're talking witness protection program hiding - like all of a sudden spo has an.... australian roommate. yeah, australian. that's it. pass the fosters and throw another shrimp on the barbie. (i know, i know.. it's a prahhhwwwwnnn not a shrimp)

anyhoo.

yeah, so how will this work? if we ended up dating long term, would i be afraid to write about stuff we'd done or said, or if i was unhappy about something, or angry about something?

(i asked him yesterday if he'd found the sex stuff yet. he said no, then asked if he might end up in here, if we were to.. erm.. you know. when i said yes he seemed ok with that fact. which, i thought, was cool.)

i mean this blog is still... 70% true. and even some of the stuff that isn't true has a kernel of truth hidden within it. but i don't reveal *every*thing that happens to me, or that i think about or feel or experience here. shocking, i know. if i did, though, i'd just be here all day long and never have a chance to go out and live, so, inevitably, would not really have anything to write about, anyway. which would kind of defeat the point, wouldn't it?

o be joyful (cause that shit spreads)

i heart the sunshine. what girl can be verklempt when it's sunny out? not i said the fly... (you told me you wanted to eat up my sadness well jump right enjoy and gorge away)

ug i'm trying to write am lying here listening to music and the dog snoring, my feet are hot and my eyes are heavy like i haven't slept in weeks and the words won't come won't flow.

interesting development - i told a boy about the blog. he's read it. it doesn't scare me. crazy huh?


goin' outside. tell me stories, please.

night after night

i am trying to write something centred around the words 'pugilist'and 'vigilante' but not to do with fighting or violence, more to do with a street scene i have in my head - driving through summer nights with the window down, scent of flowering trees in the air, streetlights flashing 'cause it's after midnight.

i come from a place where,
at some of the major intersections,
the streetlights are set to 'flash' at midnight.

the archaic quaintness of the idea that
there are so few people on the road
past midnight
that regular traffic signals are not required

charms me
more than the blind faith in drivers' ability to follow
standard four way stop procedures.

clearly these city planners have never visited
vancouver in a rainstorm.

someday i'll walk away and say you fucking disappoint me

now i may have talked about this before, but for me the beginning of the year is the beginning of september. i think that this is for a combination of reasons - my birthday falls in mid august, so a 'new year' begins then, but also because i spent so long in school. for me, fall feels fresh and clean. the air is crisp and there is a strange sense of excitement in the air.

maybe i'm just getting in touch with my inner celt.

in any case, i think part of my strange sense of transition lies in the fact that i feel as though i'm building towards something new - i feel as though there is some kind of change on my horizon. i'm not sure what shape that change will take, just that it is there. i'm excited and filled with trepidation at the same time. i'm looking forward to what comes next and i'm making plans. i caught myself contemplating my career yesterday, and actually made an appointment to talk to my boss about it. i've never done that before - work has just been something i got up each day and did; it was *work* not a *career* or a path.

i've decided to try and finish my thesis, as well. yeah i know i've said that before, but i think that this time i mean it - i'm just so close. why wouldn't i?

i want to take a sommalier course. i want to take a class or two towards my job. right now i can do more with our database than almost anyone else in our company. i should capitalize upon that and make myself indispensible.

i want to surround myself with intelligent, energetic, positive people. i have no time for those who don't care about the world around them, and who view it with negativity or contempt. this is where we dwell - we fashion our environment with our gaze and our spirit. it is our choice to make it a negative place or a beautiful one. which do you choose?

i've also begun 'coming clean' - i am realizing my habit of holding my secrets inside is toxic. somethings should be brought out into the open so that they can't poison you from within, and i've begun to do that. for example, last night i went out with my boss. she's a lot like me - her first instinct is to try and face hardship and difficult situations on her own. like me, she doesn't want to inconvenience anyone with her emotion. she's splitting up with her husband right now, and it's not the best situation, and it's forced her to reach out to the people around her and develop a support network. this is a lesson i, too, learned the hard way, and, for the first time last night, i told her a bit of everything that went on with crazyjeremy, with mr m two years ago, with me in general. i told her how my dad is having brain surgery on the fourth, and sort of intimated how i am very afraid. i told her a bit about the kiddo's dad, and about raising the kiddo on my own and how proud of *myself* i am starting to be (this, too, is a new and wondrous sensation for me).

man, just saying that outloud makes me stop and think of how rare it is for me to be proud of MYSELF. i'm so nearsighted when it comes to my own accomplishments. i need to learn how to step back and enjoy them, rather than dash headlong from one thing to the next without savouring the small victories which come each day.

ahh i don't know where i'm going with this. some days i feel like everything i write here is negative and pointless - i'm using my keyboard to masturbate my angst - today i feel excited and positive and i wanted to share that, too.

matt good is back at the top of his game and tony is writing love letters, but not to me....

xo

(ps - i know the pic is a repeat. it just kinda fit my mood today...)

incredulous at best your desire to believe in

ok so i have gone on an average of 3 'first dates' a week for the past month. that's pretty good, i figure.

here are some things i've figured out:
1) guys don't want to date women who have kids
2) guys don't want to date women who don't want kids
3) it doesn't matter if i get naked on the first date, don't get naked on the first date, dress up, dress down, am vivacious and flirty or am a quiet good listener - guys only want to shag me.
4) if i do put out on the first date, nine times out of ten they don't call back
5) if i don't put out on the first date, nine times out of ten they don't call back
6) if they do call back, it's usually to say that they aren't looking for a relationship right now, but would like to 'take it one step at a time'
7) 'take it one step at a time' means hang out long enough to a) shag again or b) shag for the first time, and *then* stop calling
8) none of the advice that anyone has given me has worked

so i'm trying to remain optimistic, but i fear that i am becoming jaded. yes, yes, i know. i mean MORE jaded. i have to admit that i've had sick headaches for a week and haven't been able to hold down my meds, so am a tad more navel-gazing than normal, but i am still lucid. mostly.

i think perhaps it has something to do with this sense of ephemerality i'm having right now... even my job is feeling very limited, and limiting. and usually i LOVE my job and everything to do with it.

ah i dunno. i need some sunshine.

and lo, the apocalypse is nigh

so last night i was on my way to another first date (ha eat that adam sandler. fifty. pshaw) when i noticed that one of my tires felt a little squishy. yes, that is the technical term.

so, naturally, i pulled into a convenient esso station to rectify the situation and continue on my way. safety first, and all that. i putter around to the air pump and pull up; jump out of the car, handy-dandy tire gauge thrust out in front of me like orlando bloom in that kingdom of heaven movie when what do i see?

no.

it can't possibly be?

yup.

air - 50cents.


i mean, i am used to spending more per litre of water than i do for gasoline (and that's not an easy thing to do these days) but now i find that the gas company is not ONLY gouging me to fill up my car but also to fill up my TIRES?! WHAT THE FUCK?

how is that even allowed? how can they possibly be allowed to charge for AIR?

someone please explain this to me.

what's my age again?

so i was sitting in the living room this morning with my mama, sipping an au lait and leafing through the weekend paper while 'to kill a mockingbird' played softly in the background.

i came across a feature article written about adults who don't grow up - about the societal changes that have taken place which differentiate parents of *my* generation from parents of ... well... myparents. it talks about how, nowadays, it is quite common to see folks in their thirties hanging out with their kids - going to concerts, downloading music, kitesurfing, snowboarding, you know - all the stuff that i do on a weekly, if not daily, basis. however, the article just kind of illustrates the actuality of it, and fails to delve into the *why*.

why is it that parents are so much 'younger' now? or, more appropriately, i guess, is it considered more acceptable for parents to shrug off the weight of familial roles - to blur the lines between mom and dad and offspring as commonly as it is now to shrug off the traditional gender roles of mom staying home in the kitchen while dad goes to work every day?

or is that what is really happening?

i don't see myself as being my kid's friend. i'm his parent - first and foremost. i do have a much more open relationship with him than i did with my parents - this is something that i've purposefully put in place in an effort to do away with the vast gulf that exists, to this day, between my mom and dad an i. when i was growing up i was dead afraid to be honest with them about anything, because i knew i'd get into trouble. so, whenever i had something painful or stressful to deal with, i just internalized it and pretended it wasn't happening - i didn't have an adult support system. i never wanted to have that happen with the kiddo and i, so i made great efforts to keep the lines of communication open - to make sure that he knows that, even though i may not approve of what he's telling me, i will always listen and be supportive and offer advice or succor to the best of my abilities.

(as an aside, the sister scoffed at the idea that this relationship was something i've built purposefully. she figures it's just the kiddo's nature to be honest. which it is, of course, but let's not kid - his honesty and openness with me is one of my proudest accomplishments as a parent. it's not an easy thing to develop and maintain - especially now that he's 16 going on 32 and thinks he's seen it all. heh. she should just wait till she has kids and realizes how hard it actually is to walk the line between parental panic at what you are being told and calmly and rationally accepting the fact that this *person* beside you has a life of their own and as easily capable of hiding it from you as you are at hiding yours from them. but anyway...)

i don't think that parents should view or treat their kids as their best friends - there has to be a level of detachment. kids still need to know that you are strong enough to guide them through the rough times. when they want friends, they'll go to their peers. they need the discipline and the security that comes from knowing that there is someone with authority who is manning the gates, as it were.

however, i also don't think that, just because a person becomes a parent they should give up their life and their interests. kids shouldn't mean that you have to change who you are. they should enhance your life and give you a new appreciation of the world and the wonders within it. kids can, if you let them, keep you young - they see the world with new perspectives, without the world-weariness of someone who has been there, done that. and they are people - they have opinions and attitudes and interests of their own, and they learn different things and have different perspectives which can only serve to enhance those of whom they choose to share them with.

i know that there are people who don't agree with the way i'm raising my kid. i know that, at times, it's hard for *my* parents to understand. when he was going through such a rough patch a couple of years ago, a woman who knew me kind of remotely told me that it was my fault - that because i worked so much and lived my life the way i have, i was too blame for him being "fucked up" (her words not mine). that was hard to take, at the time, 'cause it spoke to any parent's deepest fear - that your failings as a parent have damaged your children.

but i also know that my son and i have an amazing relationship. i know that he will cancel plans with his friends to hang out with me. i watched him, when we were at the nine inch nails show, make a wall with his body between me and some guys who were totally slam dancing to keep me from getting banged around. i know that he's kind of a momma's boy, even though you'd never know it. and, more than anything, i know he respects me, my opinions, and my intelligence, and he knows that i love him fiercely and will stick by him through anything.

and that, i think, is the most important thing of all.

let it pass let it pass let it pass over you

ok so for the second morning in a row i've woken up with a draft beer headache. this wouldn't irritate me as greatly if i'd actually been *drinking* draft beer last night, but whatevs.

the sister and i rode all along the richmond dyke last night - all in all, about 15km or so. not a bad ride. she led the way down, so it was... erm.... let's say a leisurely pace. i, however, was in the lead on our return, so we moved a little quickly. she had jello legs at the end. heheh. we rode past this little spot called finn slough - it's the last working fishing village on the fraser river, and is a wonderful little spot. if you click the link you can look at all sorts of photos, and learn about the interesting history of the area.

i really like steveston for exactly this reason - vancouver is still so *new*, and it's hard to get a sense of history when you are here. places like finn slough are steeped in a sense of the past - like you have stepped out of your own time and into a place that is simpler, less rushed, just better.

there is enough hippie in me that the idea of living somewhere isolated from the city really appeals to me. if i didn't murder every green thing that comes into my line of vision, i love the idea of growing vegetables and stuff, you know?

ah well... maybe if i am good, demeter will let me grow some herbs in pots this year....

his sight goes red again

i have this homepage thing that gives me headlines, horoscopes, and comix in the morning. i come into work, check my voicemail, scan over my emails for anything urgent, make coffee and read this as a way to settle into my day. this morning i encountered an article in an online sanfrancisco paper extremely interesting, as it mirrors a)some of my own uneasiness with our current medical system and b)the sarcastic journalistic writing style i aspire to:

But you do not have to believe me. You merely need to glance at the latest version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (known to devotees as DSM-IV), the deeply creepy bible of the psychiatric profession.

The DSM, it is like a tumor. It is like a Christian megachurch. And while it has been, I'm sure, hugely helpful and necessary to many, it is churning and growing and seething all the time, swallowing all of humanity in its vortex of new and vaguely quantifiable suffering. To read any part of it is to come away convinced you suffer from at least a dozen happy disorders.

Which is just another way of saying we are aswim in a bizarre and surreal system, one in which shiny good-hearted doctors conduct well-funded studies and then write the descriptions of the resultant disorder they invariably find (and they always, always find something), then turn around and make a nice payment on their sweet new Mercedes SL with the money they made from the pharmaceutical company that paid them to identify the new disorder for which the pharmco can now invent fun, toxic, new behavior-modifying drugs to treat. See? Everybody's happy.

I am now enjoying this trend. Surely, the next major update of the DSM, in 2011, will include all manner of new conditions, including IED. But perhaps it can also include other common afflictions of the modern world.

Let us now suggest: Rumsfeld Hope/Joy Dysplasia, or Oozing Coulter Panic Arrhythmia, or Spasmodic Ben Stiller Recoil. Let us offer up, say, Sudden Leather-Whiffing Swoon Syndrome, or Fingerling Potato Polycystic Neuroplasmia, or Diastrophic Cervical Frat Boy Rejection Clampdown. Then there's always Hyperkinetic Eyeball Flutter Related to Excessive Images of Dead Innocent Iraqis (HEFREIDII).

GOP Colon Self-Knotting Disease. Jingoism Synapse Slaughter. Jesus Did Not Say That Repetitive Exclamation Fatigue. Vatican-Induced Blood-Boiling Soul Trauma. Lynne Cheney.

Why not define some of your own? Submit them to the DSM-V, laugh and watch your own tendency toward IED drop dramatically. Hell, who needs Prozac?
- Mark Morford

read the whole article here.

i stick my fingers into my eyes

i'm in a funny headplace. i'm trying to force myself into transition i feel the need to enact a paradigm shift in my own existance. i'm making lists and lists and lists - things i have, things i no longer own but will need to buy, and, of all things, goals. in all this time i've never ever made a list of goals for myself - a list of goals in writing on a page with space to tick them off as they reach completion with space to stare at me accusingly as they remain unticked. i've given myself a hard deadline of september 15 to be on the move - this inbetween world of my current life grows cloying and i no longer can maintain my semi-conciousness. i need to be on my own.

i have stayed living in my current space because it's been easy, and 'cause my dad's been sick, and because i've been afraid - afraid to be by myself, here, in this city where it is so hard to make connections with people and so hard to be alone. but, when i stop and consider, i have made connections - i have met people, and now i want to bring them into my world instead of briefly dipping my toes into the pool of theirs.

you are all invited.

xo

bare me no ill will i'm there

so my li'l brother has asked where i find these guys. well you see, a long time ago, tom cruise approached me with a proposition. he offered me the opportunity to be the breeding ground for his first alien fetus - the initial assault, shall we say, in his bid for world domination. i, of course, said hells no - first of all, i don't find him attractive in the least. having sex with him would require a feat of imaginative powers that exceed even my own. second - i had no desire to become a scientologist. i was worried that i may have to hang with john travolta on a semi-regular basis. that dancing thing must grow old pretty fast - i mean, for how many movies can you really expect a thrusting finger and a hip wiggle to disguise the fact that my left bcbg boot is a better actor than you are?

tom, of course, does not take rejection well (look what he did to poor nicole's face). however, he balked at tampering with my seductive beauty, and instead decided to put it to work against me. he implanted a top-secret military weapon in my brain - an asshole magnet. any asshole within a 72 mile radius will be hypnotically drawn into my presence. no big deal, you may be thinking to yourself. just fend them off with your superpowers, sweet raspberry.

no can do, my friends, no can do.

see, this magnet also counteracts any asshole repelling superpowers i have - it's like kryptonite to my no-asshole mojo. i'm rendered helpless by their charms. and, frighteninly, it works exponentially: the bigger the asshole, the sweeter, more attracted, and more defenseless i become. and, conversely, the nicer the guy, the more repelled i am.

i currently have a secret laboratory full of the most brilliant scientists and mojo-fixers frenetically working away at a cure. in the meantime, i'm doomed to date asshole after asshole.

le sigh.


(in boat boy's defense, it was actually his friend who did the text messaging. he was unaware of the whole thing till the end. he apologized profusely yesterday. in any case, i'm still pretty much turned off by him and the whole escapade. the scientists must be making some headway....)

but lately I feel like I'm just gonna rain and it goes over, and over, and over again

i wish i could figure a way out to forward myself entire transcripts of text message conversations. it started innocently enough.... with the boat boy trying to talk me into getting out of bed and come over 'cause he was horny. he'd been out with some friends earlier - his best buddy and a girl - and was home now. i had maybe been going to meet up with them but didn't.

anyway, about halfway through the conversation he was telling me how worked up him and (insert female name here) were, and how they wanted me.

what to the the fuck?

oh wait - apparently the big conversation we had about how i wasn't looking for casual sex was a figment of my imagination. the part where i specifically said i was looking for *more* and he said that he was too somehow was all talk. he signed off the text messages after i said i wasn't interested in just being his piece of ass - as he had to "finish what he started". then, about five minutes later, he was back asking if i had plans for tomorrow and if i wanted to fuck.

oh i'm so confused.

didn't we just HAVE this conversation?

i'm sure we did. wait - let me scroll back through the ... ah yes. here it is. I DON'T WANT TO JUST BE YOUR PIECE OF ASS. yes - i was quite clear, though the .... oh hang on. new text message. "my friend (insert female name here) abducted my phone. i'm sorry - it wasn't me".

AGAIN. WHAT TO THE THE FUCK?

oh i'm so confused.....

you were the last good thing about this part of town

so what's the usual length of time you date someone before you stop dating, or trying to date, other people? i know it usually depends from person to person but on average? i'm just curious. and how do you ask someone that you've kinda been seeing that question? or should you? my problem is that i like to know where i stand. i hate the not knowing, you know? like i don't want to hang out with someone and invest time and energy, then find out after a few weeks that you aren't really what they are looking for, you have just been fun in the meantime. you know? and i don't have any real reason for asking this, i guess. i've been out with the boat boy twice, and have talked to him pretty much every day for the past three weeks or so - clearly too early to be exclusive. or is it? i just don't know. i'm not good with this dating thing. i'm good with meeting someone, totally digging their company, and being with that person. or - on the complete opposite side of the spectrum - meeting someone, being totally attracted to them, getting naked with them, and never looking back.

le sigh.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

so today i took screetus along the seawall. ok let's tell the truth, here - i made him walk about ten kilometers across vancouver, down the seawall, around stanley park, and back across vancouver. along the route we ate gelato, saw lululemon clad exercise junkies, checked out the rock piles on english bay, and saw a pack of naked cyclists blocking traffic on denman street.

yup.

naked.

on bicycles.

naked cyclists.

only in vancouver.

i also pointed out my favourite cupcake spot, but i had just finished gelato and heck i can't very well be gluttinous in front of someone who's only just met me...so last night i hung out with the boat boy again. he puzzles me - he's intensely private (he lives somewhere you can only reach BY BOAT for jeebus' sake), so getting him to talk about himself is pretty much impossible. but hell, you know me and unavailable men. like a bee to honey... a bee to honey. i say again - le sigh. when oh when will you learn little raspberry girl?

can we briefly revisit the fact that i watched fifty naked people ride their bikes up a major downtown throughfare this afternoon? i don't care HOW culturally advanced toronto thinks it is - but judging by the look on screetus' face, i betcha they don't see that shit very often. and let's not kid - there are fewer higher cultural peaks than naked bike riders.

in a pack.

on a saturday afternoon.

in tourist season.

i love summer.

hurdle through the forest of doubt

so what do i want to say?
i had all this stuff this morning - stuff about driving in the rain and wishing the sun was shining, but i seem to have lost it all. i guess maybe 'cause it's fourteen hours later and who the heck can be expected to hold a thought for that long? not i said the fly.

so last night i was going to go out with a wildlife photographer - he was going to show me how to use my camera (oh is that what the kids are calling it these days?). it was a beautiful night, though, so instead i went to the sister's place. we rode bikes (her on a chopper, me on her bf's bmx, and went down to the point and had some supper on the beach. then we cruised around a little more, and back through the village, had some gelato, and headed off home. it was one of my favourite nights in a long time.

i might be burning out of the party party thing. all i want to do now is hang out with my sister and my friends and lie on the beach and read books. i want to go to yoga and drink some beer on a patio. i want to hang out with the boat boy, or another nice fun boy who likes me lots and lots and go for walks and hold hands and lie face to face naked on a bed, on top of the blankets because it's too hot to crawl underneath, let the cool breeze from the fan wash slowly over us, and talk and kiss.

any takers? you must be cute. you must like summer nights and beer. you must be willing to hold my hand when we go walking. you must be willing to give me my space. you must like to kiss and talk and sometimes do nothing else but that. you must like chocolate croissants, or be willing to maybe go get me one for breakfast every once in a while (ohh an americano, too). you must like seeing me wear skirts and know that i really like it when you put your hand on the curve under my ass - just at the top of my thigh, and when you hold it lightly on the small of my back when we are standing side by side. you must be able to have a conversation with me. you must get along with the sister and mike b. most of all you must like me for ME - not for my tits or my mouth or the way i fuck.

still interested? you know how to find me.

all I wanna do is stand in this lie

i introduced a boy to my favourite pub last night. he's a drug rep so is an interesting friendship to cultivate.. i like to test people based on the reaction they have to this place. sure it's in my little town and sure it's in the middle of nowhere but the patio is pretty much unsurpassed in the lower mainland, the drinks are reasonably priced, the service is good and the food is great. i'm not sure what i'm seeking in people's reactions - perhaps some recognition of the fact that i'm letting them in on a little secret, a hidden place that i don't show to everyone. the drug rep guy kinda got it - i could see a hint of revelation in his eyes.

halfway through the evening boat boy called - my phone lit up like christmas and sure enough there he was and it was all i could do to not answer. i called him back when i got home - lying on my bed in the dark, half undressed, breeze lilting through the window, dancing across my skin.

'i'm half drunk' he said.
'funny - me too' my eyes closed, smile at my lips.
'where are you right now?' i descriped the scene painted on the back of my eyelids, drowsily adding details as they appeared in my mind.
'hm. don't you wish you were here?' he asked. i said yes, of course i did, but really i didn't want to be. i wanted his voice in my mind, leading my imagination by the hand through his desire and fantasy.
'are you coming to see me friday?'
'mmmm' i breathed.
'do you want to hear what i'm going to do to you when you get here?' that's what i want - i want the flight of fancy. it's always so much better when i play the scene for myself.

let the love in, let the love in, come back to me

ok

so

i think it is safe to say that i am in desparate need of a vacation.

why do i think this? well, for one, i can't stop thinking about work. for two, i failed to allow another car to change lanes in front of me this morning - i wasn't an asshole, and didn't *prevent* it from happening, i just didn't slow down to accommodate them. for three, i was hanging out with a boy last night and i found myself tensing up every time he touched me. and he's a nice boy - a cute boy, and he didn't affect me like this the other night.

hmfph.

what should i do? i don't have a lot of money. i could maybe scrape together enough airfair to go to rotterdam. or perhaps i could pop down to LA for a couple of days. i've been to neither place. i don't really want to go by myself though. i can do solo vacations, but i find it's more fun when you have someone to adventure with. and, of course, there is the alberta crew, but that's not so far from home.

hmmmm....

In theory, there is no difference between theory and practice; In practice, there is. (chuck reid)

happy birthday chad

wake up and face me

ok i am no longer allowed to have the keys. i just went to the bank on my way home, came out after depositing money and discovered i'd locked my keys in the car. well done , me - keyless adventures twice in one week (you'll understand when i tell the saga of sunday). fortunately, there was a nice gentleman standing staring at his apartment building as he'd locked himself out of it. he had a bungee cord. it is, indeed, possible to break into my car with a will and a bungee cord. don't ask.

he said he had noticed me and wondered what someone like me was doing at a bank in tsawwassen at 7.30 in the morning. i replied 'unsaid - looking like i haven't been home yet?' he laughed and said he had noticed but it wasn't his place to comment. then he asked if it had been a good night. why yes, yes indeed it was not bad at all.

i sunburned my lips so badly last weekend that i am missing a huge chunk of skin on my lower lip where it peeled. it hurts like a motherfucker, and is, needless to say, damm sexy. rawr.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
he took my bottom lip between his teeth. i gasped a little and my eyes widened - it hurts where it was sunburned and even kissing is spiked with pain. 'does that hurt?' he asked. i nodded, eyes still wide. he bit down a little harder and the electricity charged up my spine into my brain - white hot on fire. he rolled me over on top of him, pressing himself against me, still holding my lip between his teeth. the sensations radiated out into my fingertips, my ass, shivers extending across my skin. he reached up and took my breasts in his hands, squeezing the nipples between thumb and forefinger - hard, harder, hardest. 'what about now?' my back arched, my lip nearly ripping free from his teeth but he me firm with his teeth, his fingers, pushing his cock inside me. 'and now? how does it feel now?'

speak the truth, or make your peace some other way

i really do like that godsmack song.

i don't feel like writing about sunday right now, even though it was possibly the most... shall we say *eventful* day i've had in a very long time. it's supposed to rain all weekend, though, so maybe i'll get to it tomorrow or sunday. not tonight - i've got plans. sorry.

other maintenance -
lurkers, i know you are out there. if you link to me would you please let me know so i can update my blogroll? i'm not so good about following up on that stuff, but i'd like to return the favour. leave a comment, or if you prefer, shoot me an email and we'll keep it on the down to the l-o, if you get my drift.

homesqueeze.

you know who you are.


xo

in a dictatorship you don't have to waste your time voting

i like little twists of synchronicity. you know, like how the other day i posted spam bukowski. then, this morning, i was waking up with tony like i do everyday and he was talking about bukowski and how he doesn't read him enough (me either, baby). and then, when i went over to google to look up ride share here in vancouver 'cause gas prices are cutting in to my beer-and-shoe budget, what should pop up but one of my favourite quotes from sir charles himself.

i heart that.

so last night i was all set to go home and post day two of sasquatch for you, but i ended up going for a drink with a guy i met over the innerweb and then the drink turned into dinner and then dinner turned into going back to his place and his place turned out to be at a house accessible only by boat so wtf i guess i had to stay over 'cause i sure as heck ain't rude enough to make someone drive (boat? sail?) me back to shore in the middle of the night. and you know, he kissed really sweetly and so one thing led to another (again) (as it often does) and we stayed up super late and got up at 4.30 so i could get home to shower and change and come to work. sure i coulda worn the same clothes two days in a row but i chucked my underwear overboard on the way to his place and didn't want to show up for work ala commando. you know how it is.

day two - saturday
so mikeb had to drive back to vancity on friday night after the show to participate in a rowing regatta first thing saturday morning. he's way more responsible than i am, man, cause i would have said fuckthatshit and just kept getting drunk. which i did. he left the kiddo, l-o and i to our own devices and a cooler of beer. we got up saturday and broke out the campstove and proceeded to make pancakes, which, by the way, is a two person job when the people are hungover and you are using a kerosene stove. you know, just in case you were curious. we have no photos of the scrambled pancakes, but the edmonton boys didn't mind them at all. some guy was randomly walking past and we gave him some pancakes too. he tried to give us money but that's dumb - karma is sweet to you (and trust me i'm awaiting my payback with bated breath) if you are sweet to her first. (he came back sunday, too, but he missed out by like forty seconds) (serves him for sleeping in).

annnyhooo. as soon as breakfast was cleared up we pulled the camp chairs up with our friends and broke into the beer. after we'd had a few, we packed up some snax, some pb&j sandwiches, and some bottled water and headed down to the show. we got there in time to see the second half of gomez on the side stage, and the rest of the bands from there on in. the sun was shining, we were surrounded by good company, we were all half cut, and the music was great. how could a day get better?

heh.


well, i'll tell you how it could *not* get better - by the skies opening up to the biggest thunderstorms i've seen since leaving peegee, replete with pouring rain, wind, and driving hail. like, two inches worth of hail on the ground. we hauled out the emergency rain ponchos i'd fortuitously purchased before leaving home and struggled against the wind to catch the constantines. who had started their set early. who got to play one song before being shut down due to weather. they hung around on stage to see if they could start again, and some diehard in the crowd in front of them broke into an impromptu chorus of 'oh canada'. the rest of us diehards joined in. the poor kiddo, though, seems to be doomed to never see them play live.

the venue shut down the side stages, so, soaked, we all moved over to the main stage. the hip came next, then the shins, and then the flaming lips where scheduled to come up next. however, because everyone was tired and wet and cold, and you couldn't purchase a hot drink within the venue to save your life, the promoters flipped ben harper and the lips, so that ben harper took the stage next. now, i'm not a die hard ben harper fan - i enjoy his stuff, and even have a few albums, but i don't have heart palpitations if i don't get a listen fix on a regular basis, you know? with that said, there were moments in his 2 and a half hour long set where he was so into the music you could have sworn he was crying. the passion and talent he displayed were, perhaps, unmatched at that event - and i saw some great acts. sadly, i don't have any photos, 'cause mikeb was on a picture bender during nin and my camera batteries died just as the shins started playing. i do, however, have pictures in my mind that i'll have forever.

next up - sunday. sunshine, kisses, keys, and the amazing ems staff of quincy washington....