Suture Contusions

+

=

One helluva story.

Don't worry, it's okay, I only got 15 stitches. I'm more worried about the psychological damage inflicted on Tess and Danny for the guilt associated with nearly taking my arm off at a house party. That's not even the best part, though. My dad actually thought I fabricated this to hide the fact that my injury is in fact a failed suicide attempt.

Truth is always stranger than fiction I suppose.

They're just jealous 'cause we're young and in love...

So practically as soon as I got home from Victoria, I had to pack my things in preperation for another journey down south. This time, Chantal and I drove down to see Brand New and Anathallo play. The results? A great drive, getting yelled at by Charles Manson's twin brother, a great concert, a lot of sweat, and a lot of fun.

Also, these:

On the drive down, Chantal and I were making ridiculously good time, so we took a break at the Alexandria Bridge, and went adventuring. We got to Vancouver at around 4 pm, so I decided we should go down town, and went into a music shop that was supposed to carry electric cellos.

After being horribly dissapointed at their staff (they couldn't figure out that it needed batteries to function, and when they DID figure that out, it took them like half an hour to realise the battery terminals were corroded and wouldn't work, even though I spent the entire time explaining it to them) and their lack of selection of electric cellos (they only had one and it was crappy and wouldn't work) we made our exit, and tried to find out way to the place we were staying at.

Somehow, Tel and I managed to not get lost at all while we were in Vancouver, due to Tel's gentle nature, and my keen sense of direction. So, we managed to find out way to Diondra's cousin's house, without even using maps or asking scary people on the street for directions.

We got to our temporary place of residence, just off of Main St, and went for a little walk. On this walk, we passed by some interesting sights:

Robots:

Infront of a Barber Shop:

NEAT?!

Amusing name?

I was also accosted by a Charles Manson look alike who saw us laughing at his resemblence to Charles Manson. He turned to me and spoke:

"WHY DON'TCHA SUCK OFF YA BITCH"

In response, we fled.

The day after that, Marcy arrived, and we adventured with here, and Japandrew. For some reason I took few pictures on this adventure save for these:

More belt buckles for Josh again:

Also, these:

These particular pictures are from a tattoo/piecing parlour on Granville (I think, I can't remember for sure) They had a lot of interesting artwork, so I took some pictures for Tess.

After that, we arrived at the concert about an hour early, and heard them soundchecking Luca. It was wonderful. The show was spectacular, and afterwards, Chantal, Marcy, Michelle, Nate, and I all went out for pizza!

Tel and I drove home the next morning. We wound up taking the scenic route, because I got disoriented downtown, and wound up heading towards to Stanley Park. At that point I was too lazy to turn around, and we drove home through Pemberton. It was beautiful.

Victoria!

so my trip to Victoria was one of whirlwinds and fun. I left at around 9 in the morning, drove the all the way to Cache Creek without stopping, and then all the way to the ferry without break.

It was nice driving alone. At first I was a bit lonely, and spent the whole time remembering things that had happened on that road on previous trips with other people, but I soon just spent all my time just thinking in general. It was nice having that much time to think by myself.

I also smoked a lot. I had a system where I'd start feeling tired, so I'd smoke a cigarette, the I'd feel gross so I'd chew some bubble gum, but it'd soon lose flavour so I'd spit it out, then I'd feel tired again so I'd grab a cigarette....you can kind of see where this is going. Don't worry, Josh gave me shit when I got home, and I don't really like smoking anyway...

But enough of that!! On to pictures!!

The Drive

My Steed:


Inside my steed?


A view from my steed:



Socials 10?


The ocean:


The ferry ride:






It was so incredibly nice to be near the ocean again, I can't even explain it. I didn't realise how much I missed it til I saw it again. The ferry ride was perfect.

The thing about ferries, is it's hard to smoke on the viewing deck, but it's the only place you're allowed to smoke. I felt really awkward, because the only place I could get enough shelter to light a match in, was a small nook with a window to the cafeteria. So people inside, who were smart and eating and not smoking would see me awkwardly holding my jacket collar up, feebly trying to light a match without it blowing out or catching my hair on fire. But it was nice aside from that. As the pictures can attest, it was a beautiful sunset on the boat.

Once I got off the ferry, I got really disoriented and took about an hour to get to Marcy's house, even though it should have taken maybe 20 minutes. After a lot of guidance on Marcy's part, and a lot of me taking wrong turns because roads in Victoria miraculously change names at random, I arrived in one peice. I enjoyed a delicious meal prepared by Marcy's Dad's friend, and then drifted off to sleep, without a care in the world...
...except my looming audition...

But enough of that! More pictures!

Fun with friends:

(Marcy <3)


Alycia and I..!


Again with Alycia and I...she has the perfect pose for any picture:


Things I thought looked cool:

Me trapped in a fishbowl?



For Josh:



Best street sign EVER!!



The Sunset







The evening:

Moss Rock:


Marcy's friend:


My illegal beach fire:


The last night in Victoria was wonderful. Marcy and I bought some Thai food, sat on a beach, and watched the sunset while we ate dinner. Then we picked up her friend Greg, drove to some pointe, and built a fire. It was wonderful and pretty. My audition being the next morning at 10, I woke up at 6, drove to the ferry port and went home. On the drive home, I ran into Michala at Chache Creek, and drove her the rest of the way home. I was then going to collapse asleep at home, but I stopped at Josh's house to give him some sheesha that I'd bought. He coaxed me into staying til around 1, and then I drove home and thought I was going to die I was so tired. I slept good that night. It was a fun trip.

They said 'You'd better look alive...'

SUMMER!!!!! I'm so excited right now it's not even funny. Being outside in the sunshine is the best feeling in the world that I managed to completely forgot about somehow. Recording is also fun. So are bicycles, not paying for coffee, and baking pies during rain storms. I feel like I've really neglected this weblog the last month or two, so hopefully very soon I'll post a large entry on Victoria-Audition/Vancouver-Brand New adventures. They'll have lots of pictures. Also, pie adventure pictures. I love having a digital camera, I can't beleive I went so long without one.

So in my desperation at how much fuel costs, I've started riding my bike as much as I can. I rode it to one of my guitar lessons today. They seemed horrified for my well being when they noticed I had a bike at their door. I like bike riding though. I really missed being more active. The winter made me a weakling. Last summer, I was so much physically stronger than I am now. I don't even want to attempt running half as far as I was able to, or doing push ups? Yeah right. I tried about a month ago, and I did them for four days. By day four I psyched myself up enough that I could do like 30 in a set, and then I felt accomplished and stopped trying after that.

Been doing lots of walking too though. Pretty much walk the same circuit every day, from Josh's house to Starbucks/Tim Hortons/Booster Juice/whereever happens to be open when we go walking, and back. It's a pretty good distance I guess. Nice to pound the pavement again.

Also good to be recording again. Next week we have a show, we should have an album out before the summer really gets rolling, and we are in the midst of planning a tour. Life is good. I guess.

Salvador Dali on

Pure gold. You can thank Chris for showing me this.

...and the silver spoon...

Last night, I realised I have another inane skill that benefits no one: I can play cat's cradle without a partner, by using my fingers cooperatively to perform tricky maneuvers. So much dexterity going to waste.

In 9 days I'll be embarking on a journey with Chantal to Vancouver to see the band Brand New. This will be my fourth time this year driving down south. It will also be the second time in my car, which is, at the moment, immaculately clean. Armor-all does wonders, really. It'll be my first road trip with Tel, and her first with anyone other than family, so it's guaranteed to be a fun adventure.

Til then, I have one more symphony concert to perform in, and at some point, Josh and I are to start recording our album. Probably sometime this week. Also, planning of a tour is fitting somewhere in there too. Busy busy busy! How exciting!

So, until next time, entertain yourself with this ridiculous looking fish:

AHHH

I have glasses now. For reading. They're hard to get used to, and now I feel dizzy.

Last Night...

I figure it was the steak. Or maybe following two long island ice teas with coffee. Or a mix of all three. I'm not sure. But last night, I had a really strange dream. It wasn't strange in that odd things happened in it. It was strange in that everything that could have gone well, did go well. And it all went well in such a way that didn't seem ludicrous. It just seemed right. It was such a good dream that I didn't realize I was dreaming until I woke up. I was so disappointed I thought I could have cried, but of course didn't. It was so strange.

Anyway, so I figure my being a serious vegetarian is in it's death throws. I don't mind, really, I just need to get used to eating meat again. On Friday I ate lamb. Saturday was for chicken. Last night involved a small piece of bacon, a chicken strip and a new york steak. What will today bring? Who knows...!?

So pretty soon I will post pictures and other such things from my Victoria adventure. Until then you should all read my brother's blog: http://kyletookabulletforme.blogspot.com

Enjoy!

Victoria, ho!!!

It's currently 1 am, and by 9 30 tomorrow morning I plan to be on the road to Victoria. This wouldn't be so bad if I was actually ready for sleep RIGHT THIS SECOND, but as it stands I'm putting off driving home, as I lazily play on Josh's computer because he's boring and fell asleep. I hope he reads this.

Being unable to afford a plane ticket, but needing to be in Victoria by midday Wednesday, has forced me to embark on this trip earlier, and with more stress, than I had previously intended. I'll also be leaving my house sitting duties one day early. Hopefully I'll still get paid.

Given how many of their pets I have managed to kill, and the fact that their neighbors seemed so concerned for their dog's safety that they graciously offered to take them off of my hands for a day, leads me to believe that if I do get paid, odds are they won't ask me back....though I hope they let me keep teaching guitar.

Whatever, I have an audition, and a solo road trip to worry about. Wish me luck on my travels, dear readers. Hopefully if/when I return, I will have many a gallant tale to tell. Obviously I will, with Marcy and Alycia being there. Plus I get to ride on a boat!!!!

But first things first...I need to fit about 8 hours of sleep into a 6 hour time frame...oh boy.

Death toll: 2

In one week I have an audition for music school I'm going to bomb I think, but eeven if I get accepted I don't even know if I'm going to attend. Tonight there's a symphony concert that's going to sound terrible because our regular conductor has a gig in Hamilton, and the concert master is conducting instead. It sounds terrible, and we haven't actually made it through Copelands "Apalacian Spring" ONCE without stopping because everyone's fucking up something.

I suck at house sitting. Two of their pets have died, though only one of their deaths may be my fault (can you over feed gold fish? Because I sort of dropped like three tablespoons of fish food into their tank by accident the other day, and they's only supposed to get two "pinches" of food a day.....) The other dead one is a degu, and it got mauled by this ugly dog that I was looking after for one of their neighbours because they asked me if I would do that before they left and I said a'ite. I was half awake and confused when I realised what had happened, so in my sleep-deprived-induced state of quasi inebriation, I called Josh to help me figure out what to do. He helped me find the surviving degu, and then proceeded to fall sleep on the couch after I made him toast.

The ugly dogs gone now, and I buried the degu in the back yard, but his friend appears to be very sad, and afraid. He spends a lot of time running on his big squeeky wheel and sitting in a nest he's made.

The fish also started to cannibalise the dead one. It was half skeleton by the time I picked it out of the fishtank, using a fork that's now sitting in the sink. Also, the dogs smell bad.

I got my class 5 drivers licence yesterday, and I don't have picture ID for a week, and I'm worried I won't be able to fly to my audition without picture ID so I'll probably have to drive, but that means I'll have to leave the house I'm house sitting at a few days before they come home. How weird is that. I seriously severely severely need a stiff drink, but I don't have picture ID so I can't buy booze. Shucks.

The more you know...

Were you aware that if your glovebox is broken, ICBC won't allow you to take your road test?

...neither was I.


Also, everyone (especially my brother) should watch this:

White People/Black People

NEATO?!

Did you know that if you google search "OMFG STEAM R0X0RZ TEH BIG ONE111!" my blog is the first thing google comes up with? I learned this from some random person who did this, and was nice enough to leave a comment on my blog. What a nice fellow/lady.

I love CBC...

This week, I've been listening to 90.3 on the radio dial constantly, and I've heard some really amazing music. Last Saturday, they had a two hour special on Motown (it was part one. The second installment is tomorrow afternoon) and the same day, they aired a live performance of the Marriage of Figaro. On Monday, as I was driving to my guitar lesson I was treated to a marvellous performance of the first movement of Rachmanninov's Second Piano Concerto.

This morning, however, took the cake. I came upstairs, put on the kettle to make some tea, and was treated to this. The Fantasy Overture, quite possibly the most famous of all Romantic compositions. Arguably the height of romantacism. It made me so ridiculously excited to hear this peice. The symphony performed it in September, and it made me vicariously relive the excitement of performing it.

It was a good morning. Listen to CBC, guys.

This scares me though. As much as I try to deny it to myself, this music has really gotten under my skin. I can't help but stand in awe and appreciate it for it's sheer brilliance. Every week I turn into more of a pompous music snob. I hate myself. But I love this music...

And now for your viewing pleasure, a plane crash:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=VYjIx7ELFAg

Post Mortem

My legs hurt. We made it to the top...after walking 7/8ths of the way up. The first 1/8th we ran. I dissapointed Mitch I think. I'm a failure in every respect. But we ran all the way down, pretty much. Not much of an acheivement, but I'm impressed. It was also cold. So cold. But then Ally served us coffee, and Mitch nearly choked to death on banana loaf, that was masquerading as banana bread. FUCK YOU LOAF!! TRYING TO KILL MITCH.

Wish me luck...

Tonight at 6, Mitch and I are partaking in an epic adventure that may lead to both of our deaths. If we die, then I demand that Tess hold a wake in our honor. I am now going to write my last will and testament on my blog. I'm writing this at my mom's office, and shes' a lawyer, so I'm pretty sure that makes this legit:

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

THIS IS THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT of me, Naomi Lee Kavka, born in the City of Comox, British Columbia, on February 28th, 1988, and currently of a random house I’m house sitting in College Heights, in the City of Prince George, in the Province of British Columbia, Canada.
At the time I signed this Last Will and Testament, I was of sound and disposing mind and memory. I was not acting under the unreasonable or undue influence of any person at the time I signed this Last will and Testament.

I make, publish and declare this instrument to be my Last Will and Testament ("Will") . By signing this document, I revoke any and all former Wills or Codicils, previously made by me, if such documents existed prior to the signing of this Last Will and Testament.

1. I declare that I am currently single.

2. In anticipation of the possibility that I marry in the future (so within the next four hours? I doubt it), I wish to further declare that I intend the testamentary disposition set out in this Will to remain intact and unchanged.

3. I APPOINT Jeremy to be the Executor and Trustee of this Will. I hereinafter refer to my Executor and Trustee as my Trustee and the expression "Trustee" shall mean and include the Executor or Executors and the Trustee or Trustees for the time being hereof whether original, additional or substituted.

4. In the event that Jeremy Kavka predeceases me or is, for any reason whatsoever, either unable or unwilling to act as my Trustee, I APPOINT Chantal to be my first alternate Trustee.

5. I GIVE all my property of every nature and kind and whatsoever situate, save and except for the following bequests:

6. All my musical instruments, including, but not limited to, my Yamaha acoustic guitar, Ibanez AXS 32112312 something or other electric guitar, fretless Fender Jazz Bass, Fender Aerodyne Jazz Bass, cello, harmonicas, juice harp, talk box, melodica, two hammer mini dulcimier to Josh. I also endow royalty rights to all songs written and recorded up until the point of my death. Any songs released after, in a Tupac type fashion are also cool with me. You should also take all your CD’s back before the hoards (see article 9) claim them.


7. To my brother, Jeremy, I give you my role as favorite child. Big shoes to fill, I know, but I think you can handle it. Oh, and you can have my car. Treat her well. Or sell her, because I think the transmissions going.

8. To my wife, Chantal, I give you all of my life savings. And all your Cure CD's back.

9. All of my Hunter S. Thompson and Salvador Dali memorabilia are to be given to Tess. Feel free to rifle through my stuff and take anything else you find cool. I also give full rifling rights to Marcy, Chantal, Jeremy, my parents, and anyone else I’m on good terms with (you know who you are) in that order.


10. I direct that my funeral expenses shall be paid by my Trustee as soon as practicable after my death. Bury me not in the lonesome prairie.


Initials of Witness: JK
Initials of Witness: KS
Initials of Naomi Lee Kavka: NK



12. Wherein my trustee is referred to in the feminine form it may be substituted for the masculine form in the event that my trustee is unable or unwilling to act and my alternate trustee is to act as my trustee.




IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have to my Will written upon this and the 5 preceding pages of paper, subscribed my name, this Day of March, 2007.

SIGNED, PUBLISHED and DECLARED by
the Testator, Naomi Lee Kavka, as and for her
Last Will and Testament in the presence of us,
both present at the same time, who at her request,
in her presence and in the presence of each other
have hereunto subscribed our names as witnesses.



Naomi Lee Kavka: Naomi Kavka
Darlene D.R. Kavka: Darasdfasdvka
Jeremy Kavka: Jeremy Kavka...............




*************

You'll find Mitch's and my emaciated corpses somewhere along University Hill. Running will be FUN....!!!

AHHHHHH

Tomorrow I begin a one month saga of house sitting. Due to my parinoid nature and tendancy to assume the worst, I can only assume that will wind up being a comical and most likely tragic affair.

I decided, seeing as how my days will be filled with a whole lot of nothing to do, I'll take up two things:

Jogging and movie watching.

I figure I may as well make the most of not having the risk of wild animals chasing me, and take up running again. Also, I've become a terribly scrawny weakling and I decided that needs to change.

But on top of that, I have accumulated a huge list of movies I have to see. I need to revise the list, because I've knocked a few of the titles off, but it will be a good way to kill time.

On top of that, I'll have to practise audition pieces a lot. For those who don't know, I made an application to UVic's music department. I haven't heard back from them, and am both anxiously awaiting a responce, and dreading it at the same time. My repetoire is quite possibly the most clichéd possible. This only really makes sense of you're a classical music snob (which I'm sort of afraid of becoming) but I'll be performing the Prelude of Bach's Cello Suite #1 and Camille Saint Saen's "The Swan" from his "Carnival of Animals". Quite possibly the two most famous cello pieces every written. This is quite unfortunate, because I think they are highly over rated in comparison to the Dvorak Cello Concerto Concerto, or the Debussy Cello Sonata, and of course, the brilliant Saint Saens' Cello Concerto in A minor (ignore the lame slide show, the quality of the performance is spectacular). But because I suck at cello, there's no way I could possibly pull of playing any of those, in this time frame, or given any amount of time really.

Okay, enough of being a music snob on the internet. I have to go for a cello lesson right now and have all my ambitions crushed briskly in my brief half hour lesson.

GO LISTEN TO RACHMANINOV IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY.

Also, please feel free to leave any movie recommendations.

An important P.S.A.

This morning, I decided that I should educate my readers on the strange and often misundstood practise of trepanation.

Trepanation is the deliberate drilling/cutting/scraping of a whole in the skull. It's an ancient procedure, dating pack to prehistoric times. Skulls found in a burial ground in France that dated back as far as 6500 BCE, were found have trepanation holes. There is also evidence that the individuals who underwent the procedure survived it, and died some time after. It also a common practise among medieval and renaissance doctors. It was used as a treatment for mainy ailments, including headaches, tumors, head injuries, epileptic siezures, insanity, and other problems.

More recently, trepanation has begun to gain popularity as a cure for chronic depression, and many others beleive it is a short cut to enlightenment. A crazy lady in England performed trepanation on herself, using a power drill (Pi anyone?) and filmed it. She survived, and went on to try and run for British parlaiment. Her slogan had something to do with trepanation, and she lost.

In my breif attempt to research trepanation, I came across a few interesting things.

First off:

This is a hippo's skull. NEAT.



Secondly, in reading up on the history of trepanation in Mesoamerica, I came across this:




NEAT.

I wanted to find more pictures of this, but had trouble and gave up.

For further reading on trepanation, check this out:

http://www.bmezine.com/news/people/A10101/trepan/

Accounts of a guy who had trepanation performed on him. Includes vague pictures!

Also, listen to this:

http://jnjmuse.cnei.or.kr/musicbox_2/rhapsody_on_a_theme_by_paganini_op43.mp3

It's Rachmanninoff and it's wonderful.

Cute, cute, in a stupid assed way....

I know my brother is going to laugh when he sees I am just posting a video, but this one's great. And at least I'm just posting the link, and not one of those annoying "omg I'm so cool I can post youtube videos directly on my blog because I'm not computer illiterate and am on cable internet that loads it in two mintes." I'm not bitter. Not in the least.

Anyway....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_dfqtyL_9-4&mode=related&search=

This guy is great.

Time to hang up the ol' spurs

In 10 hours and 28 minutes, I'm going to retire my position as a minor.

If I lived in Nevada, I'd still have two years of minor-dom to go before having to cash that check and start paying bank fees.

I always used to view a birthday as new years. When you think about, each individual's birth date is their own personal new year. So ,I guess with that backward line of thinking, today marks my own New Year's Eve! Maybe tonight, I'll do a count down to midnight, and hit some pots and pans while yelling Happy New Year at myself. I have a flat bottle of sparkling wine that my mom bought that I can consume in celebration. This fell together perfectly...in fact, a little too well...

At any rate, I'm mostly doing this in a vain attempt to distract myself from the fact that I'm an old spinster. For my birthday, I want knitting needles and a rocking chair. Also, some bourbon. That sounds like an old person type drink. Or sherry? MOONSHINE! CAUSTIC CAUSTIC MOONSHINE.

I don't know what I'm talking about.

I have two orhestra performances (N. Orchestra + Sinfonia) for two different orchestras on the same day (Saturday). I'm also expected to drive to Vanderhoof on Sunday for another one (haha...that's REALLY likely...) Tomorrow night, there's a Sinfonia rehearsal. The symphony scheduled one for Thursday night as well (not going to happen). Friday, there's another Sinfonia rehearsal (If I show up to this one, it'll be a Dog Gamned Christman Miracle). Somewhere between all of that, I'm supposed to fit in Birthday festivities--that are beyond my control-- jamming time, guitar students, piano and cello lessons, and sleep. This week sucks. I'm skipping at least half of those rehearsals just to maintain my sanity. And for the record, jamming always takes priority.

But my car is getting fixed on Wednesday.

****EDIT****

My car is now fixed. YES.

Well then

To any fans of the band Wilco, apparently their album was named after this:

http://www.archive.org/details/ird059

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot

Oh Myspace...

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=155215598

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=139839543

His name is Franck. He sent me a friend request. Two, actually. One for each his myspaces. I didn't deny them immediately, because I wanted to make sure I had quick access to these links so I can show people how scary it is seeing a balding, shirtless, hairy frenchman making electronica music.

I came to a really disturbing conclusion over the weekend: Prince George isn't that bad. Shoot me for saying it, if you must, but I actually don't hate it. I go so far as to say I actually kind of like it here.

This bombshell of an epiphany occured over the course of a weekend trip to Vancouver. It happened sometime between being caught in a bottle neck among what felt like millions of people on the freeway trying to get across the Port Man Bridge, and seeing an entire hill, across from the Riverview Mental Hospital, that was entirely covered in houses, with no yards, no trees, and no space between them.

It was scary.

Now, that's not to say there aren't aspects of Prince George I really especially dislike. The industry it's built on, for one. Or the winter season. Or a great deal of the people that reside here. But, even in saying that, I've met some amazing people in this strange backwards little city. It's just strange though. I remember being in highschool (which wasn't even that long ago...) and making pacts with friends that we'll never stay here, we'll leave as soon as we're physically able, we hate this place so much and always have and always will, but that is gradually wearing off of me. I know that I'm not going to stay here, that is for certain. But I'm definetly reassessing where I would go upon leaving.

I fear that I'm sort of turning into my dad when I talk like this. I have a weird disgust growing inside me. A strange near-phobia of urban sprawl. There's just a strange comfort in a city like Prince George. Something about it's size. I think it's got a nice balance of having the comforts of a large city, while having a much more controlled population. It's big enough that I can have luxaries like foreign food, speciality stores, a University, among other things, but small enough that if I see a white Toyota Paseo ahead of me, odds are that Eric's driving it.

I think that's something I may never get back though. Just these establishments that have been built over years of growing up with all of these people in the same place. I think when the time comes to leave, I won't even bother trying to regain that. It's just somtehing special that exists right now. Or maybe i'm just antisocial and don't want to make new friends.

Either way, that entire conclusion just left me feeling really sad. Then it made me consider becoming a lawyer. Then I kicked myself in the face. It was a weird series of events that spanned about two minutes. It was a weird cathartic altercation that I wish hadn't happened.

Long story short, Josh and I have three gigs in the next month!!! So I'm pretty excited for that! And also, we have almost 1000 myspace friends.

T/-/@t5 s0 1337!!1!1!!!#@@!!!

Now if only my car was drivable. Then I'd have nothing to complain about...nothing at all...

Minus the nausia, I'd say it wasn't half bad.

Today I rediscovered two long forgotten loves. What's most great, is I recovered them simultaniously and it was wonderful.

The first love was baking.

I woke up this morning at around 4 AM to sound of an obnoxiously loud Pink Spiders' song (I think it was "Stereo Speakers" but I'm not sure. Whatever it was, it scared the be-jesus out of me) Despite tossing and turning, I found myself unable to go back to sleep. I had something on my mind: Muffins.

I don't know why I suddenly wanted muffins so badly. It was a strange sudden urge probably fueled by a sort of flu-induced delirium, and sleep deprivation. So at around 6 am, while it was still dark, I drove home with one goal in mind: I am going to bake muffins. As soon as I got home I was overcome by tiredness and went to bed until noon.

When I awoke, I got dressed, and began preparing the kitchen for my unslaught of floury walnuty fury. At that point, I was confronted by my second love: Jackie Chan.

Someone had abandoned the television, and left it on one of the movie channels. As I walked into the main room, I heard eerily familliar theme music that I soon recignised. JACKIE CHAN'S FIRST STRIKE. I became elated. It was a great noonday greeting with which to pair with baking.

It was such a perfect combonation. I was measuring flour and beating eggs to the excitement and killer soundtrack of "Jackie Chan's First Strike" It was beautiful. Between pouring sugar, I would watch him get chased by white clad phantoms on snow mobiles, Jackie's only protection being his killer fight moves, and an adorable winter hat in the shape of a white, fuzzy, baby seal.

I remember when I was around 10 years old I went through a breif but enjoyable phase where I loved Jackie Chan movies. I would rent them constantly. I'd seen every single one that was carried at the local video store (this was when my family lived in Vancouver) Some of them I'd seen 2 or 3 times. I loved them. But somehow, that love had been lost in the sands of time.

As had my love of baking. I used to bake all the time. I had my own perfected recipes for different cakes, cookies, muffins, bisqiuts, honey buns, among many many others. What's most weird is I don't like eating what I bake for some reason. I guess I'm losing my sweet tooth as I get older or something. But I love the process, and making things I bake look pretty when I present them.

Baked goods have a very very short shelf life in my house. In fact, most any food does. I don't get it. I generally eat like a bird, but my family eats like they've been starving for three days. I cooked around 30 cup cakes today. Five were eaten before I even got around to making icing. I stashed six after I finished icing them in case I'd want to eat them or share them with friends. I think there are ten left sitting on the counter. I'm not even sure if I have any muffins left....

The icing I made was great though. Not to brag or anything, but I'm proud of it. I wanted to try something a bit different, so I added a tiny hint of raspberry jam to one batch, blueberry jam to another, and lemon juice to the third. I wound up with pink, purple, and yellow crowned cupcakes.

I also cooked a green curry, with shrimp, broccilli, sprouts, peppers, onions, and chives, all served over japanese rice. It tasted nice, but I couldn't eat much. I've had no appetite today, and have felt quite sick all day.

Being sick is especially not cool right. I need to be in peak form by Friday for recording. Hell, I need to be in peak form RIGHT NOW so I can get prepped for recording. I should try and sleep now, but I'm not remotely tired, and want to listen to the new Shins album.

Oh well....at least I have delicious baked goods that will soon be gone....how sad. I make them only for them to be destroyed...

How sweet it is...!

Big things are happening to my car this week. My tape deck is going to make an epic return. But first, I need to figure out how to re-wire it and hopefully not cause a fire or electricute myself. And tomorrow, the ol' fox is getting a new muffler system installed. I'm also planning on somehow jimmying my glove box so it will actually stay closed. This is all in careful preperation for next week.

What happens next week you ask?

(you probably didn't, but I asked so I'll endulge myself by answering my own querie which I already know the answer to)

Well....

Josh and I get to drive to Vancouver and record...!! PRETTY KEEN. But we have to take my car. And that requires fixing the tape deck, getting a new muffler ( just so it doesn't fall off during the drive or somehting of that sort) and, for the purposes of air-coefficiency (very important) and asthetics (even more important) make my glove compartment capable of being closed. I should maybe also do something about the heater, so that the fan will actually stay on. But it's probably going to be balmy in Vancouver, so it seems slightly less urgent.

Maybe I should clean the car and remove all the flower petals, gum rappers, and bottles of wine from the backseat area. All in good time I suppose....

I hope you like lame poetry....

Starting January 27th, 2006, I began a project that entailed writing a poem every day, for an entire year. That year being complete, I have a notebook with 361 poems. I missed 4 in the process. Usually due to drunken debauchery, or plain old absent mindedness. I haven't read over most of these poems, though I occasionally read over certain ones that pertain to particular dates that I find some what important. A great deal of them were written moments before going to sleep, just closing thoughts on the events of the day, or whatever happened to be on my mind at the moment. Some of them have turned into songs. Some of them are drawings. Most of them are terrible.

In the end, this is more or less a big book of confessions. A collection of things I'm not nearly brave enough to say without enveloping in some confusing tangle of words. I'll admit, some are a lot more blunt than others. Lots of them have my own brutal critiques written on the side lines. Even others involve author's notes to sort out what happened, in case anyone is actually following the convulted story line being traced over three or four consecutive days of poems. I don't know if it's really an artistic endeavour, or more of a journal. It definetly feels like that to me.


*****
*****
Here's one I thought was worth typing out:

Aug 30th:

I don't know what the time is
As I'm yawning down my sleeve
In case the rest of them are sleeping
I'm being quiet as I breath.

It'll be cold inside my car
And I forgot to lock the doors
I'll have to tip-toe through the hall
To dodge the bodies on the floor

I hate to tally all the casualties
That's why I'm up before the rest
And gauging all the damges
Inflicted by each guest.

The Sgt's in a frenzy
He has to clean up all the spills
He's collecting all the casings
For a twenty dollar bill

I wasn't taken in the draft
But can't escape the fog of war
Between the violence and the cries
It left the troops aching for more.

*****
*****

I'll sift through this, and if I find anything else interesting, I'll post it. Odds are I won't. I was going to start another notebook for poems, but I couldn't find one today that was the same kind of notebook as I already had. I was angry, and dissapointed. If I don't find one by tomorrow I'll surely give up. I'm easily deterred, as you can see.

Voodoo driving hex part 2?

I got a flat tire today. It was lame. I've never felt like more of a helpless girl before in my entire life. I stopped my car by the Scotia Bank in College Heights, and tried to reach my family for assistance. But there was no answer. So I called the first number on my dialed numbers list: Eric! He had wanted to hang out today anyway, so why not kill two birds with one stone?

So while waiting for Eric to arrive and rescue my car from incapacitation, my dad called me and went into a long rant about changing tires and how he was incapable of coming to help me so he didn't know why I bothered calling. It was not a very productive phone call, but then Eric showed up.

After toiling with my stupid car's inconvenient jack, he managed to get my car up, the tire off, and the good one on. Then there was some breif confusion about tire pressure, we had to remove the tire, walk to the Esso down the street, and fill the spare tire with air, and then we replaced the tire again and lowered my car.

As we were packing up our mess of jacks and tire irons, a very confused sad looking man in a black whool coat walked by and quietly said something, while looking directly at me. Thinking he'd said something to me, I politely asked "I beg your pardon?"

"NOTHING! NOTHING."

He then looked at Eric and said "DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?"

"Yes..." Eric replied.

"I THOUGHT YOU ASKED ME SOMETHING SO I ASKED BUT YOU WERE ASKING YOUR GIRLFRIEND SOMETHING"

He then dissapeared into the night. It was odd.

So to thank Eric for saving my worthless butt, I bought him a delicious McDonald's dinner, and we parted ways. Then to congratulate myself on standing and getting cold feet for two hours while Eric selflessly laboured on my tire, I bought tomato sauce and pasta, and went home to make a delicious meal. What a day.

On a brighter note, Nunsene paid about $250 more than I thought it would, and Josh and I managed to wrap that terrible Wings song we had to cover.

So, this blog is dedicated to two people, in thanks:

Eric for his mad mechanic skills.

and

Grace for her mad clarinet skills and helping Josh and I in making that Wings cover suck slightly less. Nice chops pal.

Kudos.

Relief washed over me in waves....

THE PLAY IS OVER!

I feel so strange now that it's done. Not for any nostalgic reasons, I'm glad it's finished, and won't miss it at all. But after having sat through it around 12 times, I feel like I've lost considerable amounts of grey matter. I feel like you feel the morning after a drinking binge. Sick, and retarded.

If there's one thing I'll miss , it's seeing the conductor, Val, on a nightly basis. For those who don't know, Val is probably the coollest person I have ever met, and makes every musical production I'm in bearable. In fact, Val makes them downright enjoyable. She makes wonderful baked goods, likes Frank Zappa, and has an unhealthy addiction to Ginger Ale.

BUT NO MORE DANCING NUNS. Sorry, but this is a big deal for me. This passed two weeks has been so incredibly crippling for me. It's like my own personal Berlin Wall has been torn down.

And now, compliments of Ryan G, I bring you a video of something scary getting set on fire.

Enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HcW86FmHhYE

Hm...

If someone were to tell you they were stabbed with a syringe, isn't it safe to automatically assume it involved some sort of crazy crack addict hobo?

I'd rather have a frontal lobotomy.

Sorry for my inexcusable lack of posting the last week. I've been taken hostage by a hoard of dancing nuns. They dress me up as a catholic school girl, and force me to play bass, while they dance and sing show tunes. Seriously, Nunsense would be 10 times better if it was actually a stage production of "The Wickerman". Because then it would involve fire, and pegan rituals, and much better music. But then again, would there be room for a song like "What Would Elvis Do?" in the wickerman sound track? I have my doubts.

I wonder if I can perform a lobotomy via self trepanation? Only one way to find out....now where did I leave my cordless drill.....

Foxy.

Tonight, I was driving home, in my Fox, and I saw a fox run across the road. OMG IS THAT A COINCIDENCE OR WHAT?! It was pretty wild.

Anyway, that was my lame excuse for an entry. What I'm really trying to say is:

If, on Sunday, January the 7th, you're in the area of Artspace at say, 8ish, and have some time and money to burn, come watch a show! The Arbitrarys (Josh and I) will be performing, as well as Pox Eclipse, Throatkick and this out of town band called Keep it Secret! It's $7 at the door, OR $5 if you buy a ticket in advance....you can get them at West 49 or Meow Records.

Also...everyone HAS to watch the show "Fame". They play it on Much More Music pretty much every day, and it's SO TERRIBLE it defies all reason. I can't even explain how bad this show is. It must be experienced by all. I find myself unable to resist watching it when it's on. This frightens me. A lot.

Happy New Year you God Damned Charlatans.

This New Year's eve I drank vodka and 7 Up, and then missed the actual countdown to midnight, and instead, wrote a song. Then proceeded to Denny's, sat next to a roaring fire, played video games, and watched crappy 80's music videos til 6 in the morning. It was great. Hope everyone else had as much fun as I did!