Bill Murray has been crashing parties and hanging out with strangers.
(It could happen to you.)
Across the buildings, a slight gap in the clouds.
Keith looks out and says, “oh look, a nice day.” A shift in the sky and the blue goes away. Weather whispering gray. Today it snowed briefly in a winter half effort. White flakes, fat with promise, that melted as soon as they touched ground. Now, as before, it is raining.
I’m glad my week has been wonderful enough to make up for the weather. I cried upon waking my first day back from California, mutely, pained, unhappy. “What’s wrong, what is it?” A thousand things, a hundred disappointments, ten I could say aloud, but only one to share, “There’s no sky.”
Tuesday: Finally seeing Cory McAbee‘s The American Astronaut on the big screen was absolutely fabulous. Officially Duncan was hosting it, but my involvement (with That Mike) brought me to the front of the room, answering questions as I sat beside him, swinging my legs under the table that only came up to his knees.
Wednesday: Amanda Palmer‘s show with Zoë Keating and the Australian theater company The Danger Ensemble was outrageously Off The Hook. It’s an expression I sometimes hate, but I can’t think of anything more apt. Zoë Keating was exactly as mind-bendingly glorious as expected, but Amanda Palmer raucously surprised me. Her humour and spark and pure scintillating shine blew juicy, delicious bubbles of overwhelming near-religious delight into every nook and cranny of my brain. Just like everyone else at that show, I think I now love her. It was also a great time to play catch up, as people I love were in attendance I haven’t seen in absolutely forever, like Dragos and Tall-Travis. (Also, Kyle, I said Hello for you. She was thrilled.)
Thursday: As a fluke, while waiting to get in to see Zoë & Amanda Palmer, Andrew Brechin gave David and I a free voucher to Waltz With Bashir, a strong, very personal animated documentary into the horrors of the 1982 Lebanon war. Telling the story of the 1982 Sabra-Shatila massacre of Palestinian refugees through the director’s own reclaimed memories, it was educational without preaching, and painful without guilt. At first I was skeptical of the animation style, which reminded me too strongly of old cut scenes and on-line java cartoons, but the story pulled us in, and the animation smoothed as the film continued, leaving us rapt as it drew to a close.
Tonight: There’s a Tom Waits Tribute Night at Cafe Deux Soleils from 8:30 – midnight. “a line up of the who’s who in east vancouver gather together to sing the songs of one of the most influential artists around. his world of strange wit and hard luck characters has made a home in each of our hearts. come out dressed in black, red and your fancy feel ready to sing along and stomp the floor silly.” Featuring: Blackberry Wood, Tarran the Tailor, my sweet and charming friend Jess Hill, our very own RC Weslowski, CJ Leon, Christie Rose, Chelsea Johnson of the Foxy House which hosted my birthday, Corbin Murdoch, Jeff Andrew, Buffaloswans, Maria in the Shower, Fraser Mclean, Christa Couture, Nick Lakowski, Sarah Macdougal, Pawnshop Diamond, Katie Go Go, and Mike the Swan.
Tomorrow: Our all day, all night non-denominational, costumes optional, holiday social and house party to celebrate David moving in, with crepes in the morning, tea in the afternoon, and candle-lit silent black and white horror films until dawn. (In regards to BYO: Bring your own syrup, eggs, fruit, or toppings, bring tea, cookies, or pie, bring flowers, feathers, or figs, whatever you feel appropriate, but most importantly, bring yourself.) Extra guests welcome within moderation
Bonus: Amanda playing Radiohead’s Creep on the ukulele for Kyle and Neil at the Cloud Club.
