Movin' On Up

This week has been a mad frenzy of laundry, packing and socializing. I used to think I didn't own very many clothes. I now realize that I was wrong wrong wrong. How did I manage to acquire this much shit over the course of a mere 23 years? I don't understand it. Attempting to be very Philip Glass about packing and am only taking that which is absolutely necessary, which is pretty hard. My CD shelf and hundreds of CDs are staying in Scarborough. I am only taking 35 essentials.(Narrowing it down was a brutal task.) My stereo stays here, as my computer plays CDs. All of my sweaters stay here. Every book but one (Miss Wyoming, Douglas Coupland) stays here. Even my DESK will stay here; it's too big for the van and my room. I'll have to find one at a Value Village over there. In conclusion, I have altogether too much crap and packing is stressful.

This past week, I rammed in a lot of goodbyes. Dinner with Ben on Tuesday. Bata Shoe Museum and the AGO with Lindsay on Wednesday, followed by dinner with Lindsay, Liz, Carolyn and Lee (and an Avril Lavigne sighting). Thursday was shopping with Dhimo and Alison, followed by dinner at Jack Astor's, which provided a pretty funny sight gag (I ordered the World's Smallest Chocolate Mousse for dessert and Alison ordered the Colossal Sundae. My mousse came in a shotglass and her sundae was roughly the size of a basketball. I ended up splitting it with her, of course). Today will be Family Funday, consisting of visiting extended family and bonding with the immediates. Then, tomorrow morning at 6AM (!) my parents and I will leave for Montreal. Forgive me if I don't update/email you for a while. I'll be spending the weekend with the folks, and after that there is no guarantee that I will have internet access right away.

I've been waiting for this for so long. I can't believe it's finally come.

(Now playing: "Almost", Sarah Harmer)

Big Bang Baby

Today was my last day of work and (coincidentally?) I have a brand new stapler.

This morning's irate callers were surprisingly devoid of bitchiness and/or ass stupidity, so I couldn't really tell any of them off. Kind of a letdown. But since it's a civic holiday, I got paid triple time! That worked out to roughly $1/minute, so I made three dollars while peeing. Not bad. I should parlay that into a career, somehow.

Tonight, when the neighbours are setting off their traditional fireworks, I will pretend that they are for me. Screw you, Queen Victoria. Happy no more working, Sofi!

(Now playing: "Irish Blood, English Heart", Morrissey)

Walk Like an Egyptian

Yesterday I spent 3.5 hours in the Royal Ontario Museum by myself. Since I'm moving so soon, I'm trying to sop up all of the Toronto I can handle. I haven't been to the ROM in years, but I still remembered where everything was. (Although I don't remember the Bat Cave being that scary ever.) The highlight (and the real reason I went) was the Eternal Egypt exhibit which I've been wanting to see since February. It was all very neat and impressive, but this one tiny 3000-year-old drawing of a lion and some birds on papyrus kind of freaked me out. It looked like it could have been a cel from The Lion King or something. The drawing style was almost...Disney-esque? It's weird how a scribe thousands of years ago drew a lion the same way that an animator today draws a lion. I suppose people are people, and people breathe and walk and eat and fuck and draw cute cartoon lions in essentially the same way, thousands of years apart. (I can't think of a better way to explain the weirdness than that.)

Another freaky thing: in the art deco section of the ROM, they had this section devoted to the most popular material of the 20th century - plastic. They had stuff like dishes and furniture and knick-knicks all made out of different variations of plastic, and one of the knick-knacks was a Flintstones popsicle mould in its original packaging. You know, those plastic containers with Fred or Betty or Wilma or Bam-Bam on them that you would fill with orange juice and stick in your freezer so you could have home-made popsicles when you were a kid? Yeah, those were there. Something that I have USED is in a MUSEUM. That's weird and scary and wrong.

Later on, I met up with Liz, Carolyn and Juliet for dinner at a cute little restaurant on Harbord. We sat on the outdoor patio and had cheap (but delicious) white wine and talked until it got dark. It officially felt like summer.

Four more days of work. Nine more days of Toronto. Despite the fact that my possessions now belong in museums, I'm still young enough to have fresh starts. That's comforting.

(Now Playing: "Goddess on a Highway", Mercury Rev)

Let Me Stand Next to Your Fire

If I were magically granted 3 wishes, I would distribute them as follows:

1) Peace on earth (as usual)
2) Riches beyond my wildest expectations (also as usual) and
3) A record deal for The Salingers

Seriously. Those Salingers boys are ridiculously talented. Some of the best songwriting I have ever heard and some solid musicianship to boot. Not too shabby for a few guys from Queen's University. Eat your fucking hearts out, Bedouin Soundclash ! You too, Matt Barber! You won't be pretty forever, Matt Barber! That's right.

Were I an A&R type (and alas, I am not. But I'm working on it), I would have signed them last night at the B-Side. Were their performance a complex mathematical equation, it would go like this:

The Salingers = The Beatles + The Strokes + The Who + Franz Ferdinand x 4 + complete and total hotness + they give good hugs + severe make-out-ability - fuck, they have hot girlfriends + I don't care, check out Chris Hickey's killer dimples + awww, are their moms/dads sitting over there? + they covered Hendrix without sounding like a lame highschool cover band + what was that song? Did they write it? Holy shit, it was awesome! + dude.

Anyway, I wish them all the luck in the world and I sincerely hope that they "make it" so I can tell everyone that I lusted after them way back when.

I slept a grand total of two hours last night, due to the jungle-like heat and humidity of my bedroom. I threw my window open to get some air circulation, but loud chirping woke me up at around 5. The early bird can absolutely go to hell. I'm pretty sure my apartment in Montreal is A/C-free. However will I cope?

I went to the Clothing Show today (after waiting in line for nearly half an hour). It was kind of underwhelming and struck me as being rummage sale-esque. Mainly old crap that I would get rid of were it in my closet. Granted, there was some cool stuff like this hot number but it was few and far between amidst the costume jewelry and ugly old lady scarves.

Sometimes I wish I were a fashionista, but it looks like so much work.

(Now playing: "You're Giving Up", The Salingers)

Springtime Fresh

Blogger has kindly given HTML idiots (such as myself) a little more selection when it comes to blog templates. I thought this one was real purty. I like the star. It's orange. I'm going to stick with it for a while.

The downside is that I lost all of my links and lovely previous comments in the move. I'll fiddle around and make things right in terms of links, but leaving comments is your responsibility. Do it up.

I got a new computer! I got a new computer! Happy birthday to me!

Last night was my final French class. It wasn't so much a "class" as it was "go to the Keg and drink and eat and speak in an abortion of the language that can only be described as Frenglish". I think the waitress thought we were crazy. But that's okay, because she was also crazy. (I've literally never seen anyone so happy. She acted like serving us was the highlight of her life. I bet she's the one on staff that all the other staff call Annoying Girl behind her back.) Saying goodbye to everyone in my class was sad, because they were all genuinely nice.

I must now scoot off to have lunch with Jose Contreras (business, not pleasure. But everything with that guy is a pleasure). That will put me in a decidedly good mood. I may also see Robin for a short period of time today. He will be wearing a suit. I will be laughing and pointing.

(Now Playing: "Soft Machine", By Divine Right)

Anaphylaxis

Liz came to visit for a few days because she had a job interview in Toronto on Friday (pssst...she got the job on the spot as she is a veritable superstar). Her interview was in the morning and very close to the Ontario Science Centre, so we spent a blissful few hours exploring an indoor rainforest, riding a virtual bobsled and watching cool coral reefs die (but don't worry - the man in the movie will fix our ecosystem by planting a lot of mangrove trees) in an IMAX film that almost made me throw up. After I worked in the afternoon, we ordered pizza and watched The Muppet Show and played boardgames (Life and Trivial Pursuit). I got my ass kicked in the game of Life. At one point I was $307 000 in debt and wound up gambling my car, husband and only son on the number 6. I did not spin a 6.

It's really fun to act like you're eight for an entire day. I highly recommend it.

Lindsay (fresh from Belize) also came to visit for three hours on Saturday and we had a nice extended lunch at Marche along with Liz's McGill friend, Tony. The company was lovely, but I couldn't shake the thought that it would have been an unpleasant afternoon indeed had I not been so observant during the creation of my lunch.

Marche guy: What do you want in your stirfry?
Me: Vegetables, udon noodles and teriyaki sauce. Also, I'm kind of allergic to peanuts, so would you ensure that you not use peanut oil and please fry my food in a clean pan?
Marche guy: Okay.

Ten minutes later...

Marche guy: (dumping a strange, chunky sauce all over my almost-done and delicious-looking stirfry).
Me: Uh...was that ginger and garlic that you just put on my stirfry?
Marche guy: What?
Me: What did you just pour on my stirfry?
Marche guy: Spicy Thai peanut sauce.
Me: Uhhhhhhhhh....but I told you I was allergic to peanuts.
Marche guy: You didn't ask for peanut sauce?
Me: No. I am fairly sure I did not.
Marche guy: Oh (starts up another stirfry for me).

Anyway, I can't entirely blame him; that place is noisy and busy and (as Rob would put it) he has low job satisfaction and probably doesn't care very deeply about what sauce I want with my noodles. Next time I will just wear a t-shirt that says, "If you feed me peanuts I will get hives and my lips will swell up and I will wheeze and with my last breath I will totally lose my shit and kick your ass."

Ryerson accepted me to their journalism program. Not to sound cocky or anything, but I had few doubts that they would. Their journalism post-grad program is three times the size of Concordia's and I also had a bit of an in who was willing to help me out if I needed it. Anyway, Ryerson's lame, impersonal and poorly-worded acceptance letter(in comparison to Concordia's nicely-worded, sunshiney one) made me realize that I probably made the right decision. Good for me.

All right, at the risk of making this the longest blog entry of all time, I really have to share a somewhat unpleasant anecdote about my day:

On the ride to the subway, a rather large woman got onto the bus. Probably about 400 pounds (although that really is a ballpark estimate), mainly concentrated around the stomach region. It was so large it was sagging down to almost her knees. Anyway, she stood in front of me, despite the fact that there was a seat next to me. I figured out that she was standing because she wouldn't be able to fit into the one seat, so I decided (after some internal debate - would this be a nice gesture or would she be offended by it?) to offer up my seat to her. She said she was fine, thank you. And continued standing directly in front of me. She smelled like sweat and vegetable soup and the bus was getting hotter. Not so good.

As the bus continued, it got more and more packed, so she was sort of forced really close to me. Her stomach ended up practically resting in my lap. Needless to say, it was a really, REALLY uncomfortable and socially/physically awkward 30 minutes.

I want to make it perfectly clear that I am not judging this lady. I'm not Kate Moss myself and although I do not consider myself to be an extreme in any way, I could easily stand to lose some weight. So I understand what she must be going through in her day-to-day life and I sympathize completely. The situation was really really weird, though. I mean, where do I LOOK? Does she REALIZE how uncomfortable I must be? Is she not backing down/away because she was offended that I offered my seat and this was a sort of revenge? Does she have no concept of the unspoken "personal space bubble"? It got me to thinking about that contentious really-obese-people-should-buy-two-plane-tickets-instead-of-one-if-they-don't-fit-in-the-seat issue. That made me really angry. I mean, people who are 300+ pounds already have so much to deal with, why punish them for something that they haven't yet been able to control? Now, after having had some complete stranger's belly in my lap for half an hour, I am not so sure if my kneejerk reaction to the issue was completely thought out. The obvious answer to this problem: business class, economy class, big fat ass class!

(Classy.)

(Now playing: "Little Pink Stars", Radish)

Love You, Alice/D = Modern Equivalent of White Rabbit?

My wrists are feeling a lot better (praise be to my physiotherapist!) so I hope to update my blog a little more frequently from now on.

I've had an action-pact few days. Nick and Wendy's wedding was on Saturday (wedding 2 of 4 in '04) and although it was kind of surreal (Nick was in my grade all through highschool and looks exactly the same as he did back then, so it was like witnessing the marriage of a couple of teenagers) it was shockingly fun. My mom, dad, brother and I had all had a few drinks and were consequently feeling relaxed and silly. My brother continuously proclaimed his awesomeness, my dad took some amount of pleasure in playing an abortion of a basketball game with balled-up rose petals and a vase full of water and my mom said the word "vagina" in public without shame. It ruled. I think my immediate family is a lot more alike (personality-wise) than any of us would ever care to admit. Too bad being sober and busy and stressed-out and crazy all the time ruins our potential constant fun.

Yesterday I had dinner with my favourite Toronto triumvirate - Katherine and Ben (+ me = triumvirate). Katherine is going back to Winnipeg today, so it was our Last Supper. Those two have made my year bearable, and I will miss our girltalk over delicious and often extravagant dinners. Ben's "friend" Jean dropped by for a while, and he was pretty great. Very genuine and smart and extremely cute. After he left, I made a surprising semi-drunken admission (to Katherine and Ben, but also to myself) that I don't think I could ever marry anyone without a chin dimple. It's true! I think I can count the number of chin-dimple-free men who I have been physically attracted to on one hand. Chin dimples are just. so. hot. (I blame this strange fetish of mine on Kirk Douglas ca. Spartacus.)

Rob (chin dimple) arrived nearing the end of our dinner, and he and I eventually made our way to the Horseshoe to meet up with Lisa, Mr. Andrew Cowan (no chin dimple) and Joan. Sadly, Joan wasn't feeling well enough to stick around for the Apples in Stereo concert, but it worked out in the end - Lisa's friend Ryan McClare (no chin dimple) decided to come so he took her ticket and bought me a beer. He and I also bonded over music, eye Weekly and Wavelength. Ryan was cool. It gave me hope that I still have the skillz to make new friends, something that has very much been on my mind since I'm moving to a new city in less than a month.

The Apples in Stereo show itself was amazing. They're probably in my Top 5 favourite bands, and I had never before seen them live, so I was really looking forward to it. I was not disappointed. They played a good mix of old and new. They also ran the gamut from their poppiest pop (Rainbow, Seems So, Please, Ruby) to more psychedelic fare (Love You Alice/D, Strawberryfire). During Love You Alice/D, Rob leaned over to me and said something along the lines of, "I can't believe I never realized this song was about LSD before." My jaw dropped, because that had never occurred to me and probably never would have had he not pointed it out. Love You Alice/D. Love you LSD. Jesumaria! I'm a naif, fo' real!

(Now Playing: Nothing at all. But I'm singing "Love You Alice/D" substituting the Alice/D with Sofi/P.)