Going Japanese

Seth is visiting Canada for two weeks. He moved to Japan shortly after university and seems to be doing a bit of all right there. Now, if I had my way, everyone I know would live in Toronto, but it's cool when friends go abroad because that often means getting bizarre presents.



The best thing Seth brought me were these little plastic action figures that you have to assemble, called Otokonotashinami. From what I understand, the dudes in the yellow tights are sort of like superheroes who preach morality and politesse.



Mine is the one on the bottom right. Seth explained that it's supposed to show how it's not polite to stare at a lady's behind while taking public transportation. Apparently, leering/groping on subway cars has become rather prevalent in Tokyo. Notice how both the superhero and the Japanese businessman are respectably averting their gaze as the woman stands up. (Also worth noting: they seem to be pressing their briefcases rather forcibly against their own groins. Hmmm.)

So amused was I by this toy that I decided to check out the Otokonotashinami website. Of course, I couldn't understand one fucking word of it. But that didn't stop me from coming up with my own interpretations of each scenario:



When you make a career out of leering at the fine young asses of female interns, be sure to purchase pants one size larger than is required so as to not blatantly showcase your icky and bizarrely-angled penis during inevitable erections.



When you and your friend splurge on an obese tranny hooker, it's not polite to get intimate with said hooker while your buddy is still in the can. Be a pal and wait. Besides, sharing is fun!



Women are delicate flowers. If you would like to make love to a most beautiful lady, here are the steps you should take:
1) Tell her how pretty her eyes are in the candlelight.
2) Splurge on a nice half-litre of mid-priced red wine during dinner.
3) Order a platter of food that includes items shaped like phalluses...'cause that will make her think about humping!
4) Try not to let it slip that you've already fucked her sister.



After marrying the love of your life, it's not the best idea to awaken her the morning after the wedding while dressed like Uncle Sam. It's an even worse idea to get your friend to show up with a microphone and interview you like you're actually Uncle Sam. Pointing at her a lot and shouting "WE WANT YOU!" at the top of your lungs is also a bit of a bad plan.

(Now playing: "My Way Of Giving", Small Faces)

Five Points That Contribute To The Indisputable Fact That My Job Is So So Awesome

1) I was in a bizarre music mood today, so I spent the better part of the afternoon listening to the greatest hits of ZZ Top and Heart. And you wanna know what? None of my co-workers said anything! I was expecting some chuckles or maybe some teasing, but no! Not even a quizzically raised eyebrow came my way. People just accepted that I was unironically enjoying "Sharp Dressed Man" and "Barracuda" and that was that.

2) I get paid! I know that happens at most jobs, but I still sort of can't believe that I am getting paid for what I do.

3) Casual Friday is every day! They scrapped the dress code. I wore jeans and a green tank top and bright blue and yellow sneakers to work today.

4) I was sitting in a meeting with a bunch of grown-ups a couple of days ago. Myself and the bunch of grown-ups were talking about business things. So crazy! Every few minutes I'd look around and think to myself, "Whoa! I sure am talking business with a bunch of grown-ups!" And then I would bite my lip in order to supress giggles.

5) Thursday is bubble tea day.

That about covers it. However, my work contract expires in September, so in a few weeks I might be all "I curse them for not renewing my contract! They are ignorant! Ignorant and BLIND to my immense talents!" instead of gushing about how I love everything and everyone.

Speaking of jobs, congratulations to Erin!

I'd planned to blog about my recent trip to the CNE, but it was so colourful and dizzying and surreal that I'm still too exhausted to even think about it.

(Now playing: "Alice Blanche", Les Lutins...[parce que'elle aime les gars aux cheveaux longs])

Skirting The Issue

I just bought this rad skirt.


Skirt in photo may be radder than it appears.

The problem is, I have no idea what to wear it with! Aesthetics are sort of beyond me, so I'm not very good at dressing myself. A white peasant top is the obvious answer to me, but I'm thinking that's a little too Oktoberfest. Any ideas? (Note: in person, it's all textured and has a hip I-spent-five-hours-sifting-through-utter-shit-at-Value-Village-to-find-this-puppy-
but-it-was-so-worth-it vibe happening, so anything that might accentuate that would be ideal). Email me or add a comment. Quickly, now! I am rapidly running out of skirt days.

It's come to my attention that, not only do Carl Wilson and Aaron Wherry link to my blog, they also visit it sometimes. So awesome! Boys, if you're reading this, you do damn good work. (Nonetheless, I look forward to stealing your jobs someday.)

Another busy weekend is approaching. Highlights include (but are not limited to): libations at Betty's, the CNE, being part of the judging panel for this year's crop of TTC buskers and...JOEL!

(Now playing: "Playgirl", Ladytron)

Congratulations Are In Order

Billy & Jenn: It's a GIRL!

Neil & Janice: It's an ENGAGEMENT!

Allison: It's a HOUSE!

Katherine: It's a JOB!

Catherine and Lindsay: It's a BIRTHDAY!

Linda: It's a BACHELORETTE PARTY!

Lukas: It's a TOTALLY UNEXPECTED CREDIT CARD REBATE!

Yours truly: It's a SPORTOP ELLIPTICAL TRAINER!



High fives all around.

(Now playing: "7 Heures Du Matin", Jacqueline Taieb)

All Dressed Up

Man oh man. This is rapidly turning into some form of intense photo blog. I'm extremely sorry if you're a sucker with dial-up, but you really can't do justice to pretty like this in mere words.

FAKE PROM!!!


Lawd a'mercy! Martha Stewart would envy such a glorious spread!


The prom is fake, but the alcoholic flushes are very real.


The hostesses with the mostest...es.


Eat your heart out, Miss Lewinsky!


Ratcliffe and Cowan both looked AND smelled like my uncle!


Keep it like a secret.


Hickey, secure in his masculinity, tries my glove and corsage on for size.


MATT KING!!! (And Meligrove Mike.)


Haggard and sweaty. Such stuff as magical memories are made on.

Thanks very much to the ladies of Dundonald, Superintendent Reibling, and all who made the evening a smashing success!

(I can still taste peach schnapps.)

(Now playing: "Pheromone Smile", The Dirtbombs)

Wayne Petti Is In Bed With Me....Right Now!

That is mostly a lie.

After a bit of a hiatus, I am happy to report that I am back on the freelance writing train. I have a piece on Matt and Jill Barber upcoming in the Queen's Alumni Review, a review posted on UmbrellaMusic and a fun news bit on my boyfriends, which you can find over at Chartattack.

I must confess that if Wayne Petti and I got married, I would not be sad. Band boys with bright eyes, easy smiles and razor-sharp wits are A-OK by me. (Even if they are roughly the size of one of my thighs.)

In other news, this is shaping up to be a pretty bang-up weekend. I'm still slightly bummed that I'll be missing the Wolfe Island Music Festival, but really and truly, what is the fest without Joel Plaskett and/or The Sadies? Worth missing, that's what.

But yes. This weekend is looking like frigging awesome:

• Karaoke with large and varied group of people tonight!
• Daytripping at the Toronto Islands with Lindsay, Ben and a visiting Katherine tomorrow afternoon!
• Fake Prom tomorrow night! Hot damn!
  
• Linda's bridal shower on Sunday!
• Potentially doing a reading on Monday night if I'm not too scared!
  

Exclamation points!

(Now playing: "Ecoutez", Elsa)

Just Like Everybody Else Does

Earlier today, I was at the corner of College and Spadina and a homeless woman asked me to spare some change. Sometimes I have change to spare. Sometimes I don't.

Today I did.

She was an aboriginal-looking lady with a very gentle face - probably in her late thirties, but street people tend to look older than they are.

I gave her a quarter.

"Can I please ask you a question?" Her speech was slow and slurred. I figured she was drunk or mentally ill or both.

"Sure, go ahead." I wasn't meeting Andrew for another 20 minutes, so I was in no hurry. But I was really hoping she wasn't going to beg me to buy her more booze or a pack of smokes.

She said something but a streetcar rumbled by and I missed what she said. I asked her to repeat herself.

"Do you think I am a human being?"

That - in and of itself - is a jawdropping motherfucker of a question. But what amazed and moved me was how sincere she was. There was no bitterness in her tone. No anger. She asked me just so earnestly.

I could have cried.

I said something in the affirmative. She said something I didn't understand but instead of asking her to repeat herself again, I said the first thing that came to my mind.

"We're all equal, miss."

I walked away then. Maybe I shouldn't have.

The moral? Even if you can't/won't spare change, please treat street people with some decency. Say hello. Say "Sorry, not today". Nod. Make eye contact. Do something to acknowledge their existence. Don't ignore them outright or gingerly step past them like they're trash.

Easier said than done, I know. It's so easy to ignore things that make us uncomfortable.

(Now playing: "Love Is Nothing", Liz Phair)