Tag: friends

and every time, it’s a surprise. they never used to have gray hair.

Three cats and a programmer, that’s who I’m living with. The house drips with the edges of stories we’re not quite telling. Out for dinner, up in the morning, laptop in the livingroom, random laughter talking alone. Moments I want to remember.

Sigur Ros is filming a documentary.

The Fringe Festival lounge is constantly full of people I used to spend my life with. Now I only see them this once, every year, though I miss them. It makes it a very strange place for me. Everyone is a flamboyant memory of someone I used to be. Words thunder across the room, bringing back burning flashes of the smiles I wore, the names I used to sweetly remember, but my personal mythology doesn’t have an anchor anymore. I adore these people, their theatrical grand gestures and ridiculous, rewarding turns of phrase, so much I forget how we lost each other. We hug close, damp with laughter, talk about how great it was, how great it will be, but sobering, know that we’ll just do it again next year. Wonder where we went as every week passes by at the introspective speed of light, while the days drag on, threatening rain with every mile.

Dan Mangan was playing at the Lounge when I left tonight, another note in an absent chord of friends. I wanted to stay long enough to properly say Hello, but Ray was my ride and falling asleep on his feet, so I badly scribbled the word COFFEE? on one of my cards and left it on the stage where he was singing.

As I went, I promised people I would be back tomorrow. I’m already surprised at how much I’m looking forward to it.

Fringe Fest, Thursday Sept 6th

Everyone’s favourite games-designer, James Everett, is back in town from home-sweet-home Montreal. To celebrate, I’m dragging him and as many of you as can fit into a sack to an intense night of delicious theatre on Thursday!

Yes, duckies, it’s Fringe Fest time again. Ready up your wallets and prepare to laugh.

To start, I’m thinking a piquant bit of circus, Chris Murdoch‘s first gem, The Absurdessy. (on facebook) If Brian Froud wants to see it, so should you. I did a pinch of costume design for this one, but I haven’t seen even a rehearsal. I’m looking forward to it. Grady Orchard is apparently involved somehow too. 7:30 at the amphitheater.

As a main course, Jacques Lalonde, Paul Armstrong, and Mackenzie Gray are serving up The Kenny Rogers Experience. (on facebook) Everyone involved smirks when they talk about it, so it must be good. As a bonus, Brain Barry, (somehow), is starring in it as the ghost of Jimi Hendrix. 8:45pm at the Waterfront Theatre.

For dessert, Theatre Bagger presents Apa Kabar!. I never miss a show of theirs if I can help it. What they do with masks is supremely magical. Also, hey, Tom Jones. Rock. 11:00pm at Carousel Theatre.

HOLY FLURKING SNIT

“Scientists have discovered that inorganic material can take on the characteristics of living organisms in space, a development that could transform views of alien life.”

Strangestars, an expedition, ages twenty to fifty, has begun assembling at my house for the special meteor shower tonight. It’s one:thirty in the morning and so far Andrew and Ray are here, Nicole’s on her way, Merlyn’s cancelled, and we still need to pick up Mackenzie and Wayne. We’re driving out to Abbotsford to Dark Sky Park, where all the local cool-kid astronomers hang out. It’s all very haphazardly last minute, but possibly perfect for all that.

For those awake, but not in the mood for venturing into the wilds at dawn, look east at 4:30 Pacific Daylight Time.

loves come from unexpected places

Astronomers find a gaping hole in the universe.

The Beazer family is having it rough. Their boys have a nasty habit of falling. Last summer Gord, the elder son, took a dive head first off the Courthouse roof as a deal went a little shady. Instant coma, they had to very delicately scrape his shattered head off the ground. The doctors were certain, after removing shards of his skull from his brain, that he would never wake up. Three days later, he did. A miracle, they said. He’s not as good at remembering numbers as he was, and sometimes his directions are wrong, but all he really has to show for the accident is an intensely amazing scar spider-webbing pale out of his left temple. Barely noticeable if he wears a cap.

This time, though, it’s the younger, John. This time, it was three stories. He tumbled off scaffolding, landing hard on his feet into a pile of gravel. The other way, it would have been raw cement. Another miracle. Brothers cursed and blessed all at once. The proverbial protection of drunks and fools. He’s been in surgery the past two days as they try to screw his spine back together. The doctors don’t know if he’ll ever walk again.

In a lot of ways, this news surprised me not at all. I’ve known them since I was approximately three. They have always been growing up poor, chewing-gum social, fighting, beating me at races, boosting me up into trees, but mostly being cliché, rough-and-tumble, stupid boys. They’ve both been hit by cars multiple times, and once Gord was shot-gunned with rock-salt at five paces. (And possibly deserved it, neither one has ever been good at sticking to licit employment). But past all that, Gord bought me my first real slingshot, and John I found when he was missing when no one else could. We dealt with Brenda’s death together and always make sure to see each other at least once a year. We’ve made the shift from friends to family. These boys will never be heroes, never change the world, but I need them to be alive and as well as can be.

Here’s hoping.

the descriptions are terrifying

Oh hell, Lung went to Greece to shoot Angel‘s dream wedding, just in time for it to all catch fire. Half of it’s burned. At least 62 people are dead, whole villages have been consumed, and there’s a chance that the original site of the Olympics and a World Heritage site will go up in flames. Even worse, if reports are to be believed, it was started by an act of Arson.

“A 65 year old man has been charged with arson and homicide in Greece while two youths are also being questioned. Eleven countries are sending planes … ”

“Uncontrollable fires burned across Greece for a second night yesterday, with villages cut off from help by towering walls of flames …”

I don’t know how well I’ll be sleeping tonight. All my best wishes to those affected.

edit: They’re fine. “Different part of Greece…I am on an island paradise (caldera of a volcano). Having a great time eating grilled sardines and roasted lamb with lemon sauce. Wish you were here.”

we could build a comfier version

“Who’s got the ball…I’ve got the ball..”.

In a bit of a gravestone triumph, I’ve got reliable work in the week upcoming, but only because a friend’s mother has caught thick with cancer and, as she flies north to take care, her absence creates empty shifts at the Dance Centre. I’m going to be spending next Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday evenings there. Time will go by slowly. Visitors with, say, cupcakes, juice, bags of frozen vegetables, cheesecake or turkey sandwiches and especially delicious books will be met with especially slavering open arms. Bonus points for [CENSORED-edt] with red.

More on Baudrillard.

For those who like philosophy, there are two plays coming you should take a gander at, (not to, if you have a goose you want to abandon somewhere, I suggest my freezer. furthering the thought I should have scrounged more food earlier):

Kyle! As! Miami Vice!

Our resident Official Thinker-Person, Michael, is going to see Socrates on Trial, March 14th at 7:30, at the Chan Center. Tickets are $12, $5 for students. It’s a short run, only two nights, with a talk-back after the show on Thursday. Tickets can be bought at the door, unless you’re a keener, in which case you deserve the woes of Ticketmaster. Go with my blessing. I’m not going to be there, not being much a fan of Socrates, but Michael will be and he is cute and single. Kyle (as seen on the left) will also be going, but he is less single, so not as much a draw, though he does recite dirty poetry about otherkin dragons furries and in return for taking nice pictures of him, he’ll write horrible plageristic things about you and chocolate pudding in Mike McGee’s voice. He’s a dear. Honest. We’re only at war when the dessert supplies run low.

The second play is Bertolt Brecht’s Life of Galileo, running March 29th to April 14th, at The Western Front. Tickets are $20, $15 on discount, $10 on 2-for-1 Tuesday. Mimi is stage manager, our friend Peter New is in the lead, and Sam‘s playing, um, something with a slightly pretentious title that I don’t actually have the power to recall right now. Needless to say, it’s got a good tag-line: He showed us the universe. The church showed him the rack. Despite the cost, I’m going to try and lure someone into going with me on Tuesday. Peter is always clever, and Sam, well, I haven’t seen Sam act in anything in the last year other than films about creepy black and white priests. In fact, I may have only ever seen him play priests*, so perhaps a different sort of cleric will be a breath of fresh air. (This role may not be that different, but suffice to say, I do not expect they have him singing with a kids toy or a crucifix-in-the-eye scene).

Than is dreamed of in your philosophy…

*I lie, I think he was a skinny opera singer in Lady of the Camillas.

miss you too

I like that he tries.

My twisted physicist friend Dee will be in town from Montreal from the 5th to the 9th. I expect to be encroaching upon his time and calling him “Doktor” as much as possible during these few days as I haven’t seen him in years, (somewhere I have pictures of him burning the only real-copy of his thesis). Until recently he lived in the UK and I like him more than almost anyone, so if I have any plans with you in this time period, say so now so I can figure things out ahead of time.

James will also be swinging through, though now he and Dee now live in the same city, he will be arriving on the 9th. James will have less time for shenanigans as he’s visiting with family in Comox for the majority of his stay, but we are planning on having at least one Everyone-Jump-Him evening. Further details will be posted once they are known.

—

(Hi Blake!)

Geocities + Web 2.0 = Myspace

Toot-a-Lute has put me in charge of their website. This makes me happy, as it needs a hell of an overhaul, and they’re a good group of people. They deserve a better on-line face. I’m thinking something sparse and clean, with a little bit of edging in green. In the interests of up-keep, would anyone with appropriate photos send them to me? Your work will be fully credited, with a link to you when possible.

Nouvelle Vague is coming to Vancouver!

So I’ve returned from Clinton, which wasn’t as strange as I thought it would be. In spite of my worries, I fit in well. It turned out I had fifty or so semi-unexpected friends and acquaintances there. More than I knew the names of, by far. As soon as we arrived, some pirates tucked us into a good camp spot and we were told to make ourselves at home at a number of different camps. Everyone was surprised to see me, but glad. It was fun though the sun beat us hard enough for me to question its self-esteem.

On Saturday, after an initial exploratory wander, Isabella tied me to her merchant tent and put up for ransom. Eventually James set out with this news and fetched Oliver back to rescue me, who manfully offered them his accordion. A price too steep, we decided, so instead we dressed him up in women’s clothing and took pictures. Emancipation was not so easy, as then she wickedly tied him up too.

Later in the evening, we started a dance circle and I taught steps to people and sang with the band. I’d forgotten what that could be like. Lantern lit and dust everywhere, hallelujah. Singing isn’t as terrifying as I remember it to be. It got dark as we were there. I partnered with Gerald for Morris dancing after that. I don’t think I would have gone through with it had I been paired off with anyone else. He’s a lovely giant of a man with tawny gold hair longer than my arm, and our crazies are so compatible that I used his machete instead of a stick during one of our rehearsal run-throughs and the only thing he did was laugh. See, I had this problem where I was breaking his sticks, all of them, until he finally gave up and, because he’s big enough to do so, used a length of tree trunk instead.

Sunday was more of the same. During the day was socializing with the ridiculous number of people I knew and wandering about with Oliver, who didn’t know a tenth of them, playing music, and eventually visiting the lake. It was atrociously cold. When people tell you something is brisk, what they mean to say is, “I would be a coward if I didn’t jump in and cowards are reviled, therefore…” I don’t recommend it. The chance to wash clean of the desert was nice, but the price was a little too high for comfort.

We were dancing and singing again by the time the sun set. When it came to be night, too dark to dance in large groups, I took out my chemical packets of powder and threw them in fires as we traveled from camp to camp, acting as an alchemist, bruising the flames into different beautiful colours. Blues and greens and purples. Instead of a lantern, I used extra long sparklers. The light was fantastical, radiating magic to the drunk people who were watching and didn’t quite understand. I felt like I was creating a circus all by myself. It was almost as glorious as fireworks.

On a more somber now, Veronica and I sorted out as much as is possible in such circumstances. We sat under the shooting stars and didn’t quite cry together, but it was close. We are in sympathy, we both know where the other person is, and I’m glad it worked out. I believe she’ll take time to vanish for a little while, but we’ll carve out a place to be friends again soon. I’m proud of her as I’m proud of myself. I was going to do what she’s doing now, and walk away, but she beat me to it. Honourable we. I’d like to catch her as she’s falling, but it’s not my place. I hope she knows I understand how it’s a lonely thing to be, brave.

Nicole is needing a two bedroom apartment for September. She’s looking for $1000/month maximum, East Van from Commercial drive area to Kits, and nothing over 30th Ave. Laundry on-site and with a deck or a yard. It’s a tricky one, but if you see anything, please drop her a line at 604-306-6188.