The Dress Looks Nice On You

Due to popular demand, here are some photos from yesterday's wedding:


Hussein and Linda share a laugh...AND a last name! Holy shit!


Linda's sparkly shoes are fascinating. Even she can't get enough of them.


Me, John and Marie do a little mehndi Vogueing.


Bollywood or bust.


The wedding party in all of their autumnal glory.


This photo would be magical if it weren't for the dude to the left of the shot. (I should really learn how to crop.)

Congratulations once again, you crazy kids!

(Now playing: "Evening Gown", The Left Banke)

For Those About To Wed (We Salute You)

This is myself and the beautiful bride-to-be, circa 1985.


And this is the charming groom-to-be, at approximately the same time.

A match made in '80s hair metal heaven? Yes.

Congratulations, Linda and Hussein!

(Now Playing: "Boum Bada Boum", Minouche Barelli)

All Things Go

Sophie Papamarkos, with her granddaughter and namesake. 1980.

(Now playing: "Greener Days", The Gants)

Perfectly Legal Fun With Seventeen-Year-Old Boys

Paraphrased conversation had with Gawky Indie Teen at Beachfest:

Us: Blah blah blah blah...
GIT (turns around): Hey - are you guys talkings about Matthew Barber?
Friend (with an entirely straight face): Who's Matthew Barber?
GIT: That guy that just played.
Us: Oh yeah?
GIT: Yeah. He used to be cool.
Us: Oh yeah?
GIT: Yeah. He was all friends with Broken Social Scene and Joel Plaskett and those guys but then he went in another direction or something.
Me (also entirely straight-faced): Who's Joel Plaskett?
GIT: Thrush Hermit?
Me: OhhhHHHhhh.

Anyone who knows me & my friend knows why this was hilarious.

I think the gods were angry at our secret indie superiority. I got zapped with a rather nasty-looking sunburn on my shoulders and was also on the receiving end of a mild case of sunstroke. Yeow! Karmically punished!

Goodbye, summer.

My word. Where have the days gone?

("Where Do The Days Go?", The Flashing Lights)

The Blood Of Fats Domino Is Not On My Head

Fats Domino is alive and well. This is a huge relief to me.

I guess I should explain:

I'm working on a "Year In Review" issue at work. Basically I'm writing up a timeline of important music-related events in 2005. Neil Young has surgery for an aneurysm, Michael Jackson gets acquitted, Madonna falls off a horse - that sort of thing.

I have a quota to fill and was running out of important events. So I started thinking (and maybe even secretly hoping) that a prominent musician should kick it in the coming days in order to make my job a little easier.

Horrible, I know.

The next day I read that Fats Domino is missing and feared dead in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. I tell a co-worker that I think I maybe had a hand in killing Fats Domino. We laugh about it, but I am just appalled at myself.

As it turns out, Fats is okay! And he's looking pretty rad, if I do say so.

Phew!


Fats Domino and Elvis Presley: hey, they're both alive!

So that's one happy ending, at least.

(Now playing: "Lady Madonna", Fats Domino)

Sur Une Nappe De Restaurant

After some careful consideration, I've decided to ignore the fact that the world is basically going to hell (i.e. shootings in the GTA almost every day, New Orleans is sinking, the price of gas) and write about....going out to dinner! Two dinners, in fact! Sound like a good plan? Awesome.

Monday night. My highschool friend Julie (who lives in Vancouver) was in Toronto for a week or so. Since she was in town, she decided to organize a reunion dinner for our circle of friends circa 1998. If you're a friend of mine and/or faithful reader of this blog, you'll know that highschool wasn't my favourite. So I knew this reunion dinner had the potential to be awkward/awful. I mean, I hadn't seen some of these women in six years.

Anyway, so nine of us met up at this generic Italian restaurant. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged. Some looked different. Others looked exactly the same. One just got married. Another was engaged. We were all finishing school and starting careers. We were adults.

But it wasn't long before we resorted to our favourite pastime as teenagers; talking about who we hated and why we hated them.

Gossip. Backstabbery. Doublethink.

I don't know why I was friends with some of these women. It was more circumstance than anything else. Truthfully, I had nothing in common with them. And the only thing we have in common now is a shared history.

I put on a happy face, but I couldn't wait to get out of there. I know I wasn't the only one.

I left with a pounding headache...and an overwhelming desire to shower.

In battery acid.

Tuesday night. Still had the headache I'd acquired the previous night. I had dinner with Ben, Jean, Valerie (who was also visiting from Vancouver) and her lovely sister Julia. The evening was relaxed. Conversation was effortless, hilarious. Hugs and smiles were frequent and genuine. It was wonderful. It was the opposite of Monday. And my headache?

Gone.

They shine brightly, these chosen friends. They make me happy.

The past can fucking stay there.

(Now playing: "She Ain't No Use To Me", The Ugly Ducklings)