Saturday, December 29, 2007

the one to never change

"i am so totally in love with this right now. it's like shitty casio rock from 1983." - me, listening to some girls wander by mistake for the first time since last summer

so, i'm back. hello! how were your holidays? please share, i'm a good listener.

me, i did alright for myself, as usual -- great times hanging out with people at home, lots of drinking done, a solid xmas haul from my family (the majority of which was made up of hoodies, no doubt due to the fact that i explained earlier that the vancouverite uniform is a thin jacket over a hoodie -- but oh, i did also get a shop-vac, huzzah!), and at least a bit of relaxation without having to wake up at quarter to six every goddamn morning to go make lattes for people.

and also: perspective!

this was the first time i'd been home since i moved to the west coast. the plane ride to ontario and back is no less lengthy and terrifying - though i pretty much find every flight terrifying, no matter how smooth and uneventful - and hopefully i'll only have to do it once more and one way (that would be when i move back east in august), but you know. the whole time in kingston was a nice refresher of my old life -- and also a testament to how strictly self-sufficient i've become since i left.

i mean, my mother drove me around town to pick up a few last-minute things on christmas eve day, and i gratefully thanked her maybe three times in a row. this is the kind of stuff i've learned to live without -- adapting to a lifestyle in which i rarely receive help from others, taking on pretty much everything myself, reluctant to ask for assistance from anyone else. this isn't to say that i'm too stubborn to ask for help; i just don't like feeling emotional debt, not to mention i've had too many bad experiences where the other party has made me feel guilty for even asking. and if there's one thing i hate, it's feeling like i'm a burden to anybody. anyway, i digress -- let's just say it was nice to actually be able to ask for favours from people again without worrying about it.

however, there was also talk of "when you settle down". when i settle down. i kind of hadn't thought about that concept before, because to me, "settling down" implies having a relationship and/or a career, and therefore enough of a base to put down roots in one place. and see, i'm not so much of a gypsy as dear jenna -- i love travelling and being on the road, but i also love having a fixed home and place to belong. i can admit to that. and to me right now, the idea of "settling down" (career, boyfriend or no -- but having a reason would be nice) and having a place where i'll want to stay is more appealing than i thought.

even before i moved to vancouver, i knew deep down that it'd be only temporary. it's a city full of transients, after all, and i'm just one of the many. plus, it's too far away from everything and everyone i love for me to consider staying there forever -- i didn't leave toronto because i was running from anything, after all.

oh, yeah. toronto.

so, toronto i'm...not sure about, anymore. not so sure about how long i'll actually be able to keep up any sort of semi-permanent, self-imposed exile from that place. as i mentioned before, i went back there on wednesday and stayed for a couple days - actually a day longer than i'd planned, which doesn't say so much about my adopted hometown as it does for the particular someone i was spending my time with - and, as my italicized quote earlier stated, every minute i spent there just fucking broke my heart. for the first day and a half, i felt like i was being suffocated by every amazing and crushing memory i made in that city over the last five years.

but it felt unequivocally like home.

it was the people and the atmosphere and the neighbourhoods and the streetcar routes and the restaurants and the bars and everything combined that put me right back in my comfort zone. that was my city, and i still belonged there with every inch of my soul. i went to the bovine ("welcome to boxing day sausage party `07 -- there are now three women in the bar!" announced dj al) and could have cried at how it was all still the same, and how quickly and easily i still fit in there. (not to mention the amount of excited grins, hugs and free drinks that my return to my old stomping ground garnered me)

it took me five years to master the city of toronto and to make it my own. i don't intend on staying in vancouver long enough to feel the same way.

but then, everyone was asking me, why did you leave toronto if you really belonged there? and why wouldn't you just move back in the fall? why do you want to go to montreal instead?

this is complicated.

i left not because of any one incident or one person, but because i was just burning out, and i can admit to that now. i was killing myself between two part-time jobs that were having me work seven days a week just to pay my rent and bills. i wasn't getting any time to do my music journalism, which was my real passion. i was getting pressured by work, by ever-increasing responsibilities and stress, and i couldn't see any way out of the cycle -- nor could i even see myself going anywhere. literally, i woke up one morning last summer and could only see one long, endless tunnel. i was spinning my wheels in toronto and i knew it.

so see, for however much my few days there made it entirely obvious that toronto is my home and heartland, i could also totally tell that, were i still there now and hadn't moved away in the first place, i'd be every bit as miserable. nothing would have changed for me in toronto between october and now. i mean, true, i can't tell that, but as far as my work life and home life were wasn't going to stop until i stepped off. put the brakes on everything and bolted. i couldn't keep living like that. i don't know who could have.

toronto for those brief two days was amazing, though. like one wacky, crazy, surreal fucking dream that had everything (and the photos to prove it) from the aforementioned bovine boozing to running amok in the lcbo to hugs and shrieking with old coworkers to plowing through a massive platter of sneaky dee's veggie nachos to snapping pictures of weird college street signs to watching terrible 80's z-grade movies at 1 a.m. to way too many pints of beer and cigarettes and yelling at televised hockey in local pubs to more inside jokes and new friends and old friends than i could even begin to list. and the companion i had for the entirety of those two days was no less of a fucking godsend, a gracious host, and a story that this little girl is keeping to herself. let's just say i've got even more of a reason to look forward to the springtime.

okay, so, anyway. that's bringing us to now, which is me finally back in vancouver after a remarkably smooth flight on the most monstrous beast of an airplane i've ever seen (a boeing 777, holy shit). it's rather nice because it's the weekend right now, which means i don't have to work until monday, and monday - being new year's eve - is a short day at work before i have tuesday off for new year's day.

that's enough for now -- i think i'm gonna go back to bed for a bit before i hit the gym this morning, and then: using up the veritable deck of gift cards in my wallet!

p.s. i'd be ashamed of myself if i didn't share this link with you all: the onion a.v. club's worst band names of `07 i've since howled with mutual laughter with no less than four friends that i've showed the link to. it's just one of those naturally tear-inducing pieces of satire.

[ music | echo & the bunnymen, "seven seas" ]

johnny and mary

a little suffering is a good thing, maybe. but

(staring out the apartment window, wearing only my unbuttoned black ribbon blouse and nothing else, hair and makeup a mess, hugging myself against the slight chill, watching the morning snowfall, thinking one solitary thing: every minute i'm in this city is breaking my heart.) timing is, as always, fucking terrible.

[ music | the sisters of mercy, "1959" ]

Monday, December 24, 2007

in a haze around you

exchange between one of the nicer regular customers and i at work last week:

"so are you looking forward to going home?"
"well, i guess. but i usually just end up sitting in my parents' basement and getting drunk alone while everyone else sings carols around the tree."

everyone has their holiday traditions, what can i say.

so, i'm back in ontario, and maybe it's the minor jetlag, but it kinda feels like a weird dream to me -- like i never really left, and i don't really have another life on hold on the other side of this country. either way, the five-hour plane ride was dutifully horrifying - huzzah for typical winter turbulence and a "missed" approach into ottawa (the plane had to accelerate and then turn back around; by this point my guts had been liquified out of sheer terror) - and the two-hour drive to kingston abysmally long. i spent the entire time consolidating my music library and deleting somewhere in the realm of 100 rarely-listened-to mp3s. this is what happens when you only have a laptop with 64 gigs of memory and a 2 gig ipod nano -- you really gotta keep your music library streamlined, no bullshit allowed.

but now: home. kingston home #1, my mother and stepfather's home, and off to kingston home #2 - you guessed it, my father and stepmother's home - for christmas eve dinner tonight. mon oncle favori is going to be there, and that makes me so fucking excited you have no idea. in the meantime, i just bought my bus ticket to toronto for wednesday, which means hello primarily torontonian readership, i'm coming back! (yeah, don't think i haven't noticed that 90% of my blog hits are from toronto servers) true, it's only for 24 hours and i'm going to spend most of that time either drunk or running around doing errands (and by "errands", i mean "buying cheap packs of cigarettes at the discount store on the corner of queen and broadview"), but hey, it's my adopted home. i fully expect i may cry, drunkenly or not.

also and notably, my mother has only made three typical-mother observations (addendum: my grandmother also thinks i should eat more cheese): 1) i've lost weight (she says this every time i come home); 2) i need to stop smoking (moot point because she smokes more than i do); and 3) my hair's thinned out. i can't help that last one at all, no matter how much i've obsessed over my rampant hair loss in the past few months -- i've determined it's probably due to the fact that i went off and then back on birth control pills back in the summer, and i've read that the hormonal changes from it can trigger hair loss. (i don't think it's due to the vegetarianism; at least, i hope it's not due to that, because i kind of like not eating meat. my mother made me a salmon filet for dinner and, though quite tasty, my digestive system nearly forced it back out.) all the hair dye and flatironing probably hasn't helped. well, damn.

though really, given the choice between 25% of my hair falling out and preventing unwanted pregnancy, i'm going with the empty womb, thanks. i may be ridiculously vain about my hair, but i know my priorities.

okay! enough. here's more for ya:

on my current homefront, urban diner discusses the hotness of cactus club girls vs. earl's girls. i link this specifically for cactus alumni delna, and also because i may end up applying to cactus in the new year when i go back to my van-centric struggles to pay my bills. (looks like i oughta try for the west van location, ironically -- i am a brunette, after all)

this is probably way late, but you all ought to read up on c'mon, whose album i'm listening to right now (and whose drummer is kindly letting me crash at his place on wednesday). c'mon gladdens me inside, and so does the piece's author, one mr. keith carman, who also plays some rad rock guitar for maximum rnr as well as having a veritable fan club amongst toronto's younger rock journos. (yours truly included, ahem)

new music vid obsession right here. i still don't know what nationality maryslim are - finnish? swedish? - but i love that cover like i love alkaline trio's cover of "lucretia my reflection". yet at the same time i find it heresy because, er, it's not von. and if it ain't the real thing, then fuck that noise.

i love becoming a lapsed fan of bands that had their big heyday many years ago. it just makes me feel that more special.

are my chemical romance dead? ooooh, cryptic indeed. also appropriately gothemo.

via starbucks gossip (which i still read on occasion, because hey, a barista is a barista and you can't get the green apron out of your system that easily): some dude used his recovery coupon to concoct the most expensive drink at the `bucks. i'll spoil it for you: it involved 13 shots and was $13.76.

okay, so it's time to go wrap presents. hallelujah and enjoy getting hammered under the christmas tree.

p.s. now that i'm home, i finally got to see the muchmoremusic documentary i was in last month, and holy thank god it wasn't that bad. i was actually sort of impressed at how white my teeth were.

[ music | c'mon, "waste my time" ]

Saturday, December 22, 2007

harmonies for the haunted

and lo, on the tenth day without proper wireless internet access, the house connection suddenly resolved itself with my laptop's system, so i'm back in speedy business! quickly making up for lost time by downloading a rather intense amount of sisters bootlegs... although i normally detest live recordings (the quality's typically so shit that i never find them worth listening to, even if the song's rare or unreleased), but holy fuck holy fuck "we are the same, susanne" is like having somebody punch me in the stomach. i listened to it on repeat for the better portion of an hour, just fucking transfixed. when there's music out there that can still do that to me, then i know it'll always be my passion in life.

and speaking of that, the other big news in my life right now...

today i got a callback from the music editor of the georgia straight, the major entertainment & lifestyle weekly paper here in vancouver. he'd received my package of portfolio pieces and cover letter pleading for any sort of position - freelance or no - and was interested. could i call him back after he's finished vacation in january and discuss me doing some spec work for them to see how decent my unedited copy is?

er, hell yes.

suffice to say, i'm marking the date to call him back on my calendar. i refuse to do any sort of freaking out until i see what they actually want me for - most likely a freelance contributor, which in itself would be fantastic, although any sort of staff position would be enough to finally liberate me from my seven-year hell of working multiple part-time joe jobs to support myself - but in the meantime, i'm trying not to do any freaking out over whether or not i'm good enough for a weekly. sure, i've been a published music journo for the last four years, but it's only ever been within the framework of one publication (and its sister website offshoot). i've done bits and pieces for other zines - soul shine and also, of which i'm still a correspondent - but to have only been restricted to a single typical format and demographic makes me feel like i've in my style and format, i guess. my copy is and has always been pretty friggin' spotless though, so at least that's something.

anyway, we'll see what happens come next month. it probably wouldn't be enough to keep me here (not as freelance contributor, anyway; staff position, though...would have to see about that, though i personally think it's unlikely they'd want me for that), but it would at least make my months of `08 in vancouver worthwhile. more experience, portfolio fodder, all that. and my parents are impressed, which is nice.

blah blah whatever. here's some other stuff:

oh no they didn't! posts and comments on vh1's 100 best songs of the 90's. i admittedly squealed and/or cringed in shame at the following: tlc - "waterfalls"; ricky martin, "livin' la vida loca"; third eye blind - "semi-charmed life"; oasis - "wonderwall"; goo goo dolls - "iris"; matchbox twenty - "3 am"; joan osborne - "one of us"; sophie b. hawkins - "damn, i wish i was your lover"; the presidents of the united states of america - "peaches"; marcy playground - "sex and candy"; fastball - "the way"; new radicals - "you get what you give". also, i heard practically this entire list in my head as i was reading it. i listened to shitty mainstream music when i was a teenager in the 90's.

more nostalgia courtesy ontd!: the new american gladiators! that whole list and gallery is made of no.

there's plenty of year-end round-up goodness at my ontario journalism beneficiaries, chartattack - you know, just in case you happen to be stuck in winnipeg for new year's - and if you look closely, my second bionic feature article is up. as complimentary as i could be without appearing too biased in their favour. (my plan for nye `07: the currently-homeward bound jenna and i are strapping on the pvc and attending sin city fetish new year's)

stereogum and friends raise eyebrows at the new kanye west interview. well, er, yeah. didn't expect any less from mr. west, did we?

lou reed will be kicking off sxsw 2008 in march. i post this because every year i swear i'm gonna go to southby, and every year i don't, but at least this year i might have a band or two to accompany. (not to say i haven't in the past, but....oh well)

introspection time: another good thing about moving far away by yourself - removing yourself from your everyday environment, i suppose - is the way that the distance causes you to appreciate home, and family, and your old familiar friends. i think it's in the absence of those things that one grows the most as a person, because it's only when you realize what you left behind that you start to appreciate it.

and me, i haven't left everything behind permanently -- i'm going back to kingston on sunday, staying for a few days, onwards to toronto for two days, running madly between cities in an attempt to see everyone and everything i loved and left. because it's what i need to do -- visit the past in order to properly appreciate the present.

(one thing i don't need to do, though, is to prove that those ghosts exist. i already hear the voices of the memories and that's enough for me these days.)

one more late-night drunken house party to survive (and by that, i mean "sleep through", since it's currently going on downstairs and will likely be making my floor vibrate until the wee hours), one more day of work, one plane ride, and i'll be home on sunday night. three days after that and i'll be back in my real home. next broadcast will be from one, both, or either heartland.

wish me luck surviving the terrifying five-hour flight home, and actually getting something resembling sleep tonight overtop of the din downstairs. (they'll get theirs when i go stomping down the stairs to do laundry at 8 a.m. tomorrow morning)

[ music | maryslim feat. jyrki69, "this corrosion" (the sisters of mercy cover) ]

Sunday, December 16, 2007

precious and fragile things

now that i've finally managed to download a copy onto my computer (along with the vids for "lucretia my reflection" and "doctor jeep"), i've been back watching this video at least three times a day. like, how hot is that man? holy fucking seriously. (on a related note, i really, really want to go to bang-on on robson and get a plain black t-shirt screened with: fuck me and marry me young. i guess it's not really as funny if you don't know the song - which in itself is heartbreakingly gorgeous - but hey...)

my shock of last week: placebo's drummer is leaving! wtf? and here they seemed like such a solid threesome (no pun intended...i don't think). such a pity, they've been so fucking awesome the last few times i've seen them live...still, news of a new album in the spring is a bit of a balm.

and because i'm probably one of the only people to care enough to blog about it, econoline crush is returning. i won't even apologize for loving their music back in the 90's -- then again, if you know me, you probably expected that. you also probably expected that i think trevor hurst is a fine specimen, and you would be correct on that.

c'mon! mtv canada tomorrow at 6 pm est! sad i can't be there myself to offer my support (although they wouldn't need a merch girl for this gig, i don't think), but i'm definitely looking forward to catching the recap on the website -- if my still-shoddy wireless connection holds up long enough, that is. (found out the problem, btw -- there's a glitch in my windows vista that won't let me tap into the house's wireless, so unless i buy a separate usb port, then i'm gonna have to keep blagging bad connections from elsewhere. i'm so poor right now that i'm gonna have to keep going that route)

connecticut schoolteacher threatened by guns n' roses singalong. wow, it's 1990 all over again. where's tipper gore when you need her?

speaking of popular music showing up in unlikely places, pitchfork reports on the new "minor threat" hot sauce. yes, ian mackay is now technically a condiment. i suppose one could see that as a compliment...i mean, it worked for paul newman.

oh, and the `fork's also got their list of worst album covers of 2007. not quite as clever as idolator's long-running list - now in year-end tournament mode! - but they still get points for posting all that eye-raping hideousness.

something to think about: a culture saturated in sexism. combine this with the article that ran last week about "push presents" (an article which got me so blindly enraged that i was ranting - loudly - about it at work) and i'm starting to understand why my dad swears by the globe and mail -- among the five other newspapers he reads in the morning, of course. (i suppose this can also be seen as a reflection of how my parents' feminism has rubbed off on me)

now, for many things to occupy my sunday: getting a much-needed haircut, shaking off last night's extensive rum n' nog hangover (friend had a fantastically themed "ugly yule sweater" party, complete with burning log video on the tv set and terrible christmas music and red and green jello shooters), finishing my christmas shopping, popping in for drinks with a bartender friend, comforting a heartbroken housemate, et cetera. this is life.

[ music | limblifter, "ariel vs. lotus" ]

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

just hang on

rather concise observation made between the boss and i at work the other day:

him: "man, life really hates you, doesn't it?"
me: "yeah, sometimes. but when life likes me, life really, really fucking likes me."

there's something to be said for karmic payoff, after all.

so my internet connection's been on the blink since friday - this is what happens when you've been blagging a wireless signal that isn't yours, and then when it goes down you're forced to pirate someone else's terribly weak connection - which, for some reason, does not translate into more time for writing. (though i did pump out an additional bionic feature for chartattack, which should be appearing on the website hopefully soon) too much stress right now, i suppose -- work stress, money stress, holiday stress all around. it's hard not to stay immune to it. (doesn't help that i somehow lost my tongue stud today -- i usually put it in my wallet before i start work in the mornings, but when i went to put it back in after work today it was missing. hello, $39 replacement stud -- because there is no way i'm compromising my beloved last facial piercing)

but, i have my health and i have things to look forward to, and i'm not so broke that i'm one step away from living in a gutter, so that's enough for me. well it comes and goes but / now it's getting better every day. right? right. thank you, moist.

anyway, more later. you always know there's more later. in the meantime, some other things to keep you entertained:

also from my online journalism benefactors, news on rammstein guitarist's new band. i might probably be the only one reading who cares about that, but whatevs, i still hold a guilty torch for rammstein. the german language is just so awesomely angry-sounding.

via idolator: hilary duff's on the cover of cosmo. seriously now -- cosmo?? i still have a hard time seeing duff out of her early teen years, let alone gracing the cover of a magazine devoted to recycling the same articles about g-spots and oral sex from the last twenty-five years. (this is according to my mom, by the way)

i'm actually surprised is still running morrissey stories. i'm willing to bet they're getting their passive-aggressive revenge by picking that photo, which makes moz look totally constipated.

spoiler alert! worst movie endings ever. many agreements on a.i., former roomie jenn and i went to see it theatres way back in the day and ending up cringing and squirming in our seats through endings number three through six. seriously, should have picked one ending and stuck with it.

pickton not eligible for parole for 25 years. this whole trial's been a big deal out here, for obvious reasons, but i can remember reading stuff about it in the papers back in toronto and just feeling fucking sick to my stomach at the amount of violence promulgated against women. glad they found the bastard guilty.

oh, and more on the vancouver front: i finally read jpod, and i still can't figure out if i think douglas coupland fucking rocks or is just incredibly lame. it's kind of a toss-up.

[ music | portishead, "sour times" ]

Friday, December 7, 2007

in a city by the sea

more than anything, i would like to beg someone to get me one of these for christmas -- in all black, please, like martin gore has. (or else one of these, because i'm currently reviving my fetish for military uniforms) i figure i might as well ask since all i'm really getting for christmas are driving lessons.

(alternatively, any enterprising soul looking to secure the rights to my firstborn child can go here and try to win me any live bootleg of any 2006 sisters show, because i'm continually blown away that eldritch still sounds that fucking amazing. and i would probably still do him.)

i didn't write this, but i damn well wish i did, and i couldn't have put it better myself. cheers to that. (i wrote in to complain about the erroneous review, too. hello, unprofessional music journalism 101) on a related note, i've been listening to bionic's new album all week, and i'd think it was fucking rad even if i hadn't stayed up all night with `em a couple weeks ago. love those guys.

the tagline on this link is amusingly enjoyable, as is the commentary, as always. also reminds me to put this book on my shopping/must-read list. good to know where girls of my typical stature stand in the scheme of things.

another example of classic headline! they're coming fast and furious right now, much like dan deacon's stream of profanity. excellent.

cheers to the half of babyshambles for carrying on in the midst of no-show bandmates. and hot damn if that fan isn't walking on cloud nine right now, and probably for the entirety of 2008.

speaking of more relevant awards shows, the taste police take on the grammy award nominations, part one. and holy shit, the shinys got nominated for the best electronic/dance grammy?? holy motherfucking shit. that's so definitely deserved, yet so insane because i remember seeing them play for like 200 people at reverb (and then spending the rest of the night playing somewhat violent tonsil hockey with a here-unidentified member of the band). consider my mind blown. (they're playing london, ontario tonight! makes me sad inside that i'm not there)

oh yeah, and i'm attending this saturday night. god bless vancouver.

speaking on that, i think things are getting better for me here. i've actually been having a lot of surreal "holy shit, i live in vancouver" moments lately -- where i just kind of look around in wonder and astonishment that i actually made it here. this is a good sign to me, since i had a lot of those moments in toronto over the years. i don't know, i guess in my mind's eye i'm forever that dorky teenager from kingston, the former farmgirl from out in the sticks. but even these days, i'm noticing that i look older -- not old older, but i don't think i look like such a little kid anymore (and i was always convinced for the past five years that i look maybe all of sixteen). my face is definitely more reflective of someone who's hitting the quarter-century mark next year -- the big ol' twenty-five.

and it sort of makes me wonder if this is the point that, when you're a kid, you always think about how you'll look when you're grown up.


p.s. i realized the other day that if it weren't for my love of soup (and inability to afford all organic groceries), i'd be pretty much living on a raw-food vegetarian diet right now. well, alright. (although i can't say i believe the hooey that amenorrhea is normal on a raw food diet because menstruation is a product of an "unnatural" cooked-food diet -- uh, i bleed because my uterus is angry that it's empty every month)

[ music | nirvana, "heart-shaped box" ]

Sunday, December 2, 2007

what if this does not belong to you

it's been a long couple of weeks, what can i say.

but after a lovely eatery sushi dinner with jenna on friday night, we've come across things to mutually look forward to in the new year: the start of the west coast concert season in february (for us, it officially kicks off with editors at richard's on the 2nd -- hell to the fucking yes), the onset of springtime in march and april (when vancouver apparently becomes "the most beautiful place in canada" according to my mother), bionic coming back in april, many of my bands making their way out here once the weather's better for touring, trips to the islands and the beaches when the weather gets warm enough, summer party times in van city, and then wrapping up with me hitting the road home at the end of august. from there on, who knows -- i'm just learning to be content with the present.

moz is suing the nme for the 3517th time! i keep checking on to see if they'll post a story titled "morrissey suing us" or something, but so far no bones. aw.

i don't know if i'm just a grinch or what, but "cool christmas album" seems like a contradiction in terms to me. maybe i'm just bitter because i have to listen to shitty christmas music all day at work -- both over the recorded sound system and courtesy of the piano player in the office foyer. give me your pity, plz.

this headline sounds awkward, somehow -- like, evel knievel was only able to die peacefully after he settled his suit with kanye. which is kind of like something out of a movie. either way, r.i.p. stuntman dude.

via stereogum: stephen king runs down his top albums and tracks of the year. the country music isn't that surprising - i just finished reading lisey's story - but, uh, both james blunt and avril? ouch. my faith, it is shaken.

torontonian hipster music fans ought to go to this fucked up show because i can't, though i probably would have if i were still living down the street from sonic boom like i was two years ago.

by the way, if you grab the newest copy of chart magazine, you'll stumble across my dave gahan article on pages 16-17. it still makes me grin like the goofiest motherfucker on the planet when i read it. not the best piece i've ever written, but ohhh, that interview. (i still listen to the recording file sometimes, though i usually get all giggly and have to turn it off after about ten seconds)

oh yeah, and there'll be no more laughing at wintertime ontario for me: vancouver been getting covered in honest-to-god snow for the last two days. and honest to god, i've been loving it. i can't help but smile when i see kids outside running around in the white stuff (it's what my sister and i used to call "packy snow" when we were little -- the best kind of wet stuff that you can make forts with), and although i'm too scared to venture outside today - nobody here has snow tires, after all, and i think translink is on the verge of imploding on itself - i spent all yesterday walking around in the blizzard. seriously, it was my childhood spent out in the country: the falling snow, the chilly wind, the smell of wood-burning fireplaces on the air, the dusky winter darkness coming down in the afternoon. and then in the current day, there was me, half-sliding down the sidewalk in weather-inappropriate leather boots and thin leather coat with a maniacal fucking grin on my face, because this, at least, was home to me. i'm one of the hardiest breeds of eastern-ontario girl, after all.

p.s. i wish i had batteries for my digital camera so i could post pics of the far wall in my apartment; i received my three six-foot tall sisters posters in the mail last week, and have since created "the wall of mercy". it's either totally cool or completely fucking ridiculous, i can't tell yet.

[ music | beastie boys, "intergalactic" ]