Head 'em up and move 'em out: Edmonton-style

Flamenco for Life!

2009-07-14T15:24:00.003-07:00

Buy your tickets for this...NOW!! I mean it! NOW!!!

It's tapas, wine, art, and flamenco - what more do you want?? NOW!!!

Wow, get a backbone Ignatieff

2009-04-03T14:41:00.003-07:00

So on March 28th while in Saanich, leader of the Canadian Liberal party Michael Ignatieff made the following statement:

“I'm probably walking right off the cliff into some unexpected public policy bog of which I'm unaware, but if asbestos is bad for Parliamentarians in the Parliament of Canada, it just has to be bad for everybody else. Our export of this dangerous product overseas has got to stop."

Next day, the Asbestos Institute (I will *not* call them the Chrysotile Institute – this rose still stinks) issues a press release saying, “no, he didn’t say that.” Did I mention we have his statement on tape? Yeah, we do.

Environment critic David McGuinty then says this:

"No, no, what he was asked in Victoria was if he had a position on asbestos and he didn't know the details on the subject of the difference between chrysotile and pure asbestos, so we are in the process of reviewing our situation, our position regarding the Rotterdam Convention and it's in full negociation within caucus."

So on April 1st Ignatieff now says this:

“We have 60 years of experience with this product. What I said in response to a question in Victoria, is that we have an obligation, it's an international Convention, to warn countries to which we export this product, so that they know that there are risks for public health. That is all I said. That's my position."

Am I surprised? No – this is the party that has funnelled millions of dollars into the asbestos industry and promoted its expansion in the developing world. Plus the had the audacity to take a public health issue and force it to be adjudicated at the frickin’ WTO!

Am I disgusted? You betcha. Seriously, Mr ‘human rights crusader’ doesn’t have the balls to stand by the statement that maybe Canada shouldn’t be promoting the expansion of the biggest occupational health and safety disaster of ALL TIME?

This spinelessness is both a slap in the face and a punch in the stomach to everyone suffering from the agony of an asbestos-related disease and to all of us who have lost loved ones as result of Canada’s asbestos policies.

Because nothing screams ‘leadership’ like caving to the pressures from one of the most disreputable industries in the world – second only to tobacco. You’re backin’ the wrong horse Ignatieff. It’s just too bad that it’s the people in the developing world who will have to pay the price for your choice.

The Monkey's Paw

2009-02-25T16:01:00.003-07:00

Don’t you hate it when you have that kind of experience? Where you’ve had some deep-seeded desire for something to happen, or to be…and then poof – suddenly it becomes reality. Except that you forgot to will a really important component of that desire into existence as well. So in fact, you’re actually left wishing that it hadn’t happened at all. Kind of. But not.

...curse you paw!!

Seriously?

2009-02-24T04:12:00.004-07:00

Aww man. Considering how I usually have to scrounge for the teensiest bit of flamenco to see, this just seems mean.

I know I’m in a great position I shouldn’t complain about…but what a bittersweet choice. I can hardly complain about having to make a choice like this, but really? So I’ve already bought my ticket to this person’s show on Friday night in Jerez which I know will be amazing:

But in doing so I’m now going to miss an invitation to a show with this guy

and this gal

at this place.

Poop.

Roll on to Rolland Garros...

2009-02-02T15:05:00.008-07:00

Now I know I don't typically spend a lot of time talking about sports on here. But what happened at the Australian Open final yesterday was momentous.

I’m a tennis fan. No question about it. And more specifically I’m a Rafa and Roger fan. There’s been no better rivalry in sports than the one between Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. And so whenever I watch a grandslam final between the two of them I’m pretty emotionally invested. But nothing could have prepared me for last night’s final. After 5 sets, Nadal took the slam. But it was was happened afterwards that truly blew me away.

People have talked about it stealing the thunder from Nadal; they couldn’t be more wrong. Nadal showed himself to be a sportsman in the true sense of the word. Federer showed us all how much the game means to him. One writer certainly nailed it though.

Federer was playing for much more than Nadal. Sure, it’s hard on one’s ego to lose a match. But I think what made this loss so difficult for Rog was the expectations that everyone had placed on him, and the fact that up until that fifth set he played a near-flawless tournament. To have lost this match with so much riding on it must have been a huge personal disappointment. Roger’s reaction was human. Rafa’s reaction was beautiful.

Now, to completely debase this entire discussion: guys who can cry at a moment when they are overwhelmed by passion, like Rog did, are hot. And guys who console other guys at these moments like Rafa did, are super hot too.

...and that about sums it up.

2009-01-13T19:33:00.000-07:00

"I am patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of it."
-Dame Edith Sitwell

Bugger off 2008!!! Welcome a happier, healthier 2009!

2009-01-02T16:20:00.009-07:00

Okay, so this is a little ripped off from lolabola*. Basically I expanded the ‘things I learned’ section to allow for much needed ranting.

1.The rules:

The categories:
Things you learned this year
People you met
Things you don't want to take with you into 2009
Things you want to hold close as you pass into 2009
Things you're looking forward to in 2009
Things that were life changing in 2009
Things you hope to accomplish by the end of 2009

Things I learned this year

1. Knee braces have the potential to get very, very, stinky when you dance in them for any length of time.. Invest in gold bond powder – a lot of it.

2. There is a market for fake food. Who knew?

3. The world needs more Paul Neumans.

4. Life is far too fleeting – cherish those you love and remember that they are what are most important in this world.

5. In times of crisis friends show their true colours – anything less than a rainbow is unacceptable.

6. I already knew this, but for anybody out there who has been living under a rock under their whole life or who has their head shoved so far up their butt that their priorities are so out of whack that they don't know this one: DO NOT DRIVE ON THE HIGHWAY IN FREEZING RAIN. If, despite this warning, you do decide engage in the type of recklessness that results in injury to your passengers, for the love of God – take responsibility for your actions, show some gratitude to those who helped you out, and have the decency to apologize for your bad judgement. Oh yeah, and while the passenger you injured is unsure about whether or not they might have lost their livelihood as a result of their brain injury – try not to whine about how much your insurance is going up while simultaneously spending money on a new car starter.

7. A lot of people calling themselves Christian are anything but (see #6 above).

People you met

1. Wonderful new flamenco people, most especially this guy!
2. Some of the most heartening and encouraging students ever in the first global health course I’ve taught. I loved you guys!

Things you don't want to take with you into 2009

1. Rollover, brain injury, and all the after-effects of that..
2. Thesis…goddamit!

Things you want to hold close as you pass into 2009

1. friends, all of them
2. family, all of them (totally ripped off from lolabola*, but when you’re right, you’re right!)

Things you're looking forward to in 2009

1. SPAIN SPAIN SPAIN! And SPAIN coming here!
2. being Dr. Sentes

Things that were life changing in 2008

1. See rollover and accompanying crap
2. Seeing the Paco Pena show again this year and the exciting consequences of that experience!

Things you hope to accomplish by the end of 2009

1. become Dr. Sentes
2. find ways to incorporate all the things I love into my lifestyle…

Happy New Year everyone!!!

Hmm

2008-12-18T18:36:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking about getting back into blogging again...

...yep.

lolabola* tag

2008-07-31T09:44:00.005-07:00

1. Last Movie I Saw In A Movie Theater?
Kungfu Panda - tres cute

2. What Book Are You Reading?
In Defense of Food

3. Favorite Board Game?
A tie, Clue or Scotland yard. I actually think the clue choice has little to do with the boardgame and more to do with the movie

4. Favorite Magazine?
Skeptical Inquirer when I want people to think I'm smart, but Glamour is frickin' awesome at the gym.

5. Favorite Smells?
Sweetpeas...oh yeah.

6. Favorite Sounds?
Wow - I love lolabola*'s so I have to steal it: a well placed planta on a resonant floor (but with a nice ole thrown in)

7. Worst Feeling In The World?
Guilt

8. First Thing You Think of When You Wake?
Lucy's butt which is in my face...thank god she's furry.

9. Favorite Fast Food Place?
Harvey's veggie burger

10. Future Child's Name?
Lily

11. Finish This Statement—“If I Had a Lot of Money, I'd......
Dammit, lolabola*'s one is great again. So I'll just add to it, buy a house and then: go to Seville and take classes

12. Do You Drive Fast?
Occasionally.

13. Do You Sleep With a Stuffed Animal?
When Lucy's particularly tubby

14. Storms—Cool or Scary?
cool - except when hail destroys my garden, nrgh.

15. What Was Your First Car?
Doodlebug (aka 94 Toyota Tercel)

16. Favorite Drink?
boozey: Crown float not boozy: tea-type drinks

17. Finish This Statement—“If I Had the Time, I Would…...
Finally launch my damn etsy shops

18. Do You Eat the Stems on Broccoli?
depends on the mood, and if they're steamed or not

19. If You could Dye your Hair Any Other Color, What Would It Be?
Yeah, I've already done the hair dyed in wacky colours thing, no biggie

20. Name All the Different Cities In Which You Have Lived
Calgary
Edmonton
Regina
Kanata
Sao Paulo

21. Favorite Sport to Watch?
TENNIS!!!!!!!!! Vamos Rafa & Roger!!!

22. One Nice Thing About The Person Who Sent This To You.
She loves sarcasm as much as I do!

23. What’s Under Your Bed?
Dog hair, crazy amounts of packaging I bought in Tokyo and Brazil that I still haven't used yet, a whole lotta yarn...

24. Would You Like to Be Born As Yourself Again?
as opposed to?

25. Morning Person or Night Owl?
Neither really, but I can do either...

26. Over Easy or Sunny Side Up?
Over easy, but still kinda runny

27. Favorite Place to Relax?
on the floor, but I never do it any more due to the dogs thinking that means I want to be mauled by them...

28. Favorite Ice Cream Flavor?
Mint chocolate chip!!! Sorry lola!

Hmm, I'll tag wheatsheaf but he'll probably never even notice, hehe.

Wow. Irony-o-rama

2008-07-03T13:04:00.003-07:00

While looking for some tools to derail plagiarists I came across this incredibly ironic web page. For those of you that don't know, Academon is a supposedly legal site that sells 'custom' papers to students. Follow the link for fun.

Lick and Lather

2008-05-03T19:12:00.002-07:00

While I have more detailed discussions to share about my recent sojourn to San Francisco (AKA the-worst-city-in-the-world-for-knees), I just wanted to share with you this set of sculptures by Janine Antoni that I just loved. The busts are of herself and are crafted from chocolate and soap (hence the title of her work). I can't explain why, but I'm just fascinated by this work!

Could a little bit of SF mary-jane be responsible for this?

2008-03-30T20:28:00.004-07:00

E-Harmony = E-Bigotry

2008-02-06T14:06:00.000-07:00

Tis the season of romance. Though how that’s even conceivable in the midst of this nasty winter is beyond me; nothing says romance like snot icicles dripping from your nose, I guess. But regardless, Valentine’s Day is approaching and I’m no Valentine’s basher. I love chocolate. And any holiday (made up and commercialized to hell or not) that provides the justification for the consumption of unhealthy amounts of chocolate is alright by me. So of course in perusing my monthly magazine selections this past week or so, I’ve noticed a lot of articles devoted that most mystical of topics: looooove.

But more interestingly, a lot of these articles have been focused on understanding to the so-called science of love. While I usually tend to roll my eyeballs at these types of articles (talk about taking all the mystery out of a good old fashioned crush), I did find one or two interesting things. First, apparently the reason why it’s hard to let go after having your ass dumped may actually have to do with a triggering of addiction receptors in your brain. So that heroin habit may end up being easier to kick than that summer fling. And speaking of alcohol (presumably involved in some small part with the creation of that fling), the whole ‘beer goggles’ thing isn’t as far-fetched as we thought. It’s not just a lowering of inhibitions that might cause one of those fatal errors in judgement, but our actual perceptions of beauty and what is a desirable trait in a mate that are altered by the chemicals in alcohol. So there are at least one or two things we can blame on biology to excuse the various ridiculous behaviours one engages in once bitten by the love bug.

The second interesting article appeared in this month’s Skeptical Inquirer and was geared at shedding some light on just how far science can actually go in determining the best matches for us. In the process, the author helped to highlight a nasty little side to one of the most popular internet dating companies around: E-Harmony.

First off the bat, the so-called scientific approach of logarithmic compatibility mumbo-jumbo jargon expressed by E-Harmony is bunk. Total and complete bunk. Not only do they not have any hard science or mathematics to back up their claims, but by their own assertions they’ve only produced 9 thousand matches that have led to marriage out of 5 million people using the service. Not that we should be too surprised at the lack of scientificity involved; the fact that 10% of the population who signs up to their system is considered completely “incompatible” kind of makes you wonder. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist/nuclear physicist/biological chemist/neurosurgeon/insertotherscienceyjobhere to figure out that chemistry (pun intended) cannot be determined by a machine. And personally, I like to think I’ve got more than 29 dimensions to my personality.

But the more troubling revelation in the issue was something that isn’t immediately apparent if you look to sign up on their website. Oh wait, unless you’re gay. Then it’s immediately apparent. Because if you happen to be looking for love with someone of the same sex, you’ve picked the wrong matchmakers. Apparently the founder of E-Harmony, Neil Clark Warren (the creepy guy on the ads) does not believe that gays and lesbians are worthy of being loved. Or rather, that they’re not worthy of being scammed by the same money-grubbing software as us heteros. Now it only takes about two minutes of Googling to determine that Warren is a pretty hardcore evangelical Christian. fine, no problem. HOWEVER, no where on the E-Harmony website does it indicate that this is a Christian-oriented dating service. Its stated intention as a company is to create “loving, lasting relationships.” So what’s next? Banning anyone who intends to ‘live in sin’ rather than get married?

And if all this wasn’t enough for you to avoid E-Harmony, then remember this: the hard-earned dollars you shell out to join the service will be going to fund the same right-wing fundamentalists who helped elect George W. for a second term…*shudder*

Sweeeeeney

2008-01-24T12:36:00.001-07:00

Oh yes, and here`s the great time waster I found online, you can make your own Sweeney Todd trailer - ooooh. Here`s my masterpiece:

Merry Xmas Volume 9

2008-01-24T12:32:00.000-07:00

I realize how frickin`long it`s been since I posted and I hope some day I`ll actually start posting again. But for now, here`s the playlist for this year`s cd:

Nothing Better - Postal Service
I Hate Everyone - Get Set Go
First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes
I Feel it All - Feist
Golden Road - Martin Sexton
Happy Ending - Mika
Back to Black - Amy Winehouse
All About Me - Matt Dusk
The Moneymaker - Rilo Kiley
Eating Spiders - Psapp
Transatlanticism - Death Cab for Cutie
Homebird - Foy Vance
Bleed to Love Her - Fleetwood Mac
Paris in the Morning - Joe Purdy
Jacob`s Ladder - Bruce Springsteen
Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy - Christmas Remixed

Bippetiness!

2007-05-07T14:55:00.000-07:00

Okay, since lolabola's gonna kill me if I don't post something soon, I'm going to steal something off her page. Here's my daemon, and it's a whippet! Ooh...just like Lucy. I myself would add in the Border Collie as a nice balance to the neuroses of the whippets...

The whole love thing...

2007-02-14T13:38:00.000-07:00

A Happy Valentine's Day to all...or anti-Valentine's as the case may be.

On February 8th, the 6 year old son of my old station manager at CJSR, Daryl Richel, passed away from Burkitt's Leukemia. Yesterday was the memorial for this little boy and the only way to describe it was heart-breaking. I've dealt with a lot of death in my life, but far and away, there is nothing more tragic than to see such a vibrant young life snuffed out too soon.

But the one heartening thing was seeing how much love surrounded Owen during his short life. So for Owen, and in the spirit of today, just remind everyone you care about how much you love them.

And let's be nice to each other...smoochies all!

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;--then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

-John Keats

Please, respect copyright

2007-01-31T12:52:00.000-07:00

Respect Copyright Parody

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Pan's Labyrinth

2007-01-31T12:20:00.001-07:00

Go see this movie. Now, go. Stop blogging and go. Quick like a bunny now...vamoose!

How cute is this?!

2007-01-27T16:42:00.000-07:00

At last!

2007-01-24T19:31:00.000-07:00

It's finally here! The 3-day novel contest reality show is hitting the air! It's been turned into an 8-part mini series that will be airing on Book Television, Access, and CLT.

Watch the super cool preview here (cause I don't know how to upload flicks on my blog yet).

But better yet! Come out to the launch! Chapters Southpoint, Thursday night, 7ish. Lucy and I will be there in our red carpet finery. Yay!

I'm baaaaaaaaack.....

2007-01-17T17:24:00.000-07:00

A sprained toe and an emergency trip to the vet into this new year and my assessment! I realize I’ve been a pretty delinquent blogger, but watch, now the hypergraphia will kick in and I’ll be blogging all the time…maybe.

Since my printer was out of ink I couldn’t properly print labels for my xmas prezzie cds, so as promised here’s the track list. If you haven’t gotten your yet, either I haven’t seen you, or you’ve pissed me off – more likely the former. But ya just never now!

Anyway, after much ado…here it is…drumroll inserted here…MERRY XMAS VOLUME 8!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Arc of Time – Bright Eyes
Catch My Disease – Ben Lee
This is a Message – Joel Plaskett Emergency
One Shoe – Kris Demeanor
Decree – Ani Difranco
Bein’ Green – Kermit
Ken – Stew
Across the Universe – Rufus Wainwright
E Isso Ai – Seu Jorge y Ana Carolina
Harpy – Mint Royale
La ciguena – Eliseo Parra
Oh! You Pretty Things – David Bowie
The Last Time – Gnarls Barkley
Where Does the Good Go – Tegan and Sara
Somebody Loves You – Eels
The Christmas Song – Mel Torme (Michael Kessler remix)

Building Education

2006-11-14T16:51:00.000-07:00

So I'm pretty sure I've already bugged the hell out of everyone I know to attend this, but in the off chance that someone happens upon the blog and is looking to do a 'feel-good' thingey this weekend, here it is!

It's an event we've worked a lot on and we're hoping it's a huge success. I'm sadly having to wipe my name of the roster due to a very hurtey and mildly gross toe injury situation. But the evening's going to be awesome so please come out if you can!

Enough already!!!

2006-10-12T16:10:00.000-07:00

To whoever happens to be charge of life and all that stuff. In the whole ‘reminders of how fragile life is’ department, you know I’m actually not in need of any more. In fact, I’ve probably had more than enough the last few years to last a lifetime. So if you don’t mind, you can cut it the *$&# out. I’m good, thanks.

But I suppose I do have something to be grateful for. While we huddled on a balcony listening to the echoes of the Rolling Stones nearby, I was damn grateful to be out there with mom, and not to be an orphan before the age of 30.

By day I am a pillar, but at night I tend to ROAR!

2006-09-20T11:54:00.000-07:00

The Roar spoken word festival that kicks off this Thursday. There is just a TON of stuff going on around the city that you really should check out. Poetry and spoken word up the ying yang. So come out and support our province's fine writing community and check out the performance schedule at The Roar website

I'm hoping to get over this cold enough to hit a whole bunch of performances. My sis is hosting Four Rooms on Thursday which features a ton of of awesome women. So hacking or not, I'll be there...check it all out folks.

I’m broke, sick, and snarly; so it’s time for a political rant…

2006-09-11T18:08:00.000-07:00

So last week at a poetry reading I heard yet another person talk about how ‘we’re approaching an important anniversary next week, we all need to reflect, yada yada yada’. Yep, ye olde September 11th.

But which September 11th, you might ask? Because she might also be talking about another pretty frickin’ important anniversary of massive bloodshed connected to that date. And an informed individual who’s taking the time to write about an important historical event, of course wouldn’t want to diminish the other anniversary by acting as if there was only ONE important September 11th, would she?

But silly me, it’s all about 2001. Don’t get me wrong, my heart aches for those who lost their loved ones in that horrid event (including those we haven’t counted who are dying from the toxic waste left behind). But there is a certain callousness in us completely forgetting about the 70,000 Chileans who died or simply disappeared as a result of the US-led coup on that day in 1973. Because the simple fact is, that in both cases the massive loss of life was a result of American imperialism and a wanton disrespect for the dignity of human beings in general.

The support and instigatation of the violent removal of a democratically-elected leader (hell, his lead was bigger than Bush’s and had a hell of a stronger constitutional argument!) and leaving in its stead a tyrant responsible for countless deaths and torture during his 17-year reign, is that not an action we should spend a moment pondering? Granted I wasn’t around in 1974, but I’d be willing to bet dollars to doughnuts there wasn’t any worldwide moment of silence on September 11th of that year. Nor do I think there’s been one since.

I’m probably being a little unfair directing my rant at this particular artist. Lord knows it could have been a kick-ass poem but I’m afraid I tuned out after that. It was just the straw that broke the camel’s back, I guess.

But as my mood has been tempered a bit today by some quality nature-walking with the dogs, I will try and end this post with some comfort for the soul - a wee bit of hope. A little Neruda (who more appropriate for today?) from my lovely birthday-present collected works:

My heart’s in this struggle.
My people will overcome. All the peoples
will overcome, one by one.
These sorrows
will be wrung like handkerchiefs until
all the tears shed on the desert’s
galleries, on graves, on the steps
of human martyrdom, are squeezed dry.
But the victorious time’s nearby.
Let hatred reign so that punishment’s
hands won’t tremble,
let the hour hand
reach its timetable in the pure instant,
and let the people fill the empty streets
with fresh and firm dimensions.

Here’s my tenderness for that time.
You’ll know it. I have no other flag.

Let the madness begin!!!

2006-09-01T15:09:00.000-07:00

The 3-day novel contest is now upon us, man it crept up quickly! So please come out and join us at the South point (calgary trail) chapters this weekend for writing insanity. Gawk, taunt, and bother the writers in their attempts to create a novel while living in the store for 72 hours straight. The kick-off is tonight at midnight and the store will be open until 1am for the start.

If you don't have a car but want to come out, just give me a call as I'm catering the event and I'll be back and forth lots. Also, one of my best friends is competing and has info on his blog including bus routes and schedules. The challenges are going to be very very interesting. Saturday night's should be a great one to come by for!

And if you can't make it, visit the website for live updates and video.

Hope to see you there - it should be an absolute blast!

Oh yes, and Electrolucy is acting at official pet therapy dog for the event and would love visits too! Plus she had a special super-stressful bath and trim for the occasion and is in need of therapy herself now...

I’m the birthday, I’m the birthday, I’m the birthday boy or girl!

2006-08-22T08:20:00.000-07:00

Well, it’s that time of year again, my birthday. This Saturday I shall be celebrating entering the very last year of my twenties; yay!

My birthday present to myself this year: two hot flamenco dancers…mmm. Actually, there were 7 dancers, but I had to settle for two to myself. Well, myself and 4 others. The Vivancos brothers of Spain were in town for Expo Latino and the enterprising K2 got us a private workshop with them! Rock!! And it certainly wasn’t settling to get Aaron and Josua. Brilliant dancers, and absolutely lovely guys (and all seven of them gorgeous, what a gene pool). A fine birthday present indeed…

I imagine this approaching date means I'm supposed to reflect on the year, but I’m not sure that I want to. Yes, there have been some pretty marvy things, I’ve met some great new people, had some amazing experiences. But I’d rather not dwell too heavily on the happenings of the last year, because there’s been some pretty crappy stuff too. So I think the best thing to do is just to drink copious amounts of crown floats at the regular haunt, say 9ish on the 26th. Y’all know where that is, and if you don’t, I’ll confirm via email, and if you don’t get one, guess you’re not my friend – hah!

Muddied waters…

2006-08-17T19:38:00.000-07:00

Rant time.

Nothing irritates me more than when people treat me with kid gloves. Geezus, I’ve been around the block a fair bit and there’s not a hell of a lot I can’t handle. It’s not like I’m going to burst into tears if you look at me funny. Okay, sometimes I do, but generally it’s only when my entire world is crumbling around me; this not being one of those occasions. It just mystifies me when people think that they’re being nice by trying to spare my feelings; does it not occur to you that it has the effect of making me feel like a supreme idiot???

Grrrrrr...I need a beer.

PS Thanks Thelma…

Contented Sigh…Part II

2006-08-14T13:48:00.000-07:00

So while the time since I’ve been back have been insanely busy, a little strange, and very topsy-turvy, I’ve got to say that there have been more than a few moments of genuine joy populating these months of summer.

This weekend was no exception. Megan & Jason’s wedding was absolutely wonderful. Simple, fun, classy, and heartfelt. It’s always so nice to go to a wedding that’s about the couple, not about how much debt they can go into for a single day. We all started off in the rain on the roof of the Stollery Center for a gorgeous ceremony complete with tons of umbrellas and the guitar stylings of Justin Rutledge (a hyper-romantic surprise from Jason).

I have to say, there wasn’t a soul at the place whose eyes weren’t at least a little welled during the ceremony and parts of the reception as well. What did it for me was when they went to sign the registry and Justin played “First day of my life” by Bright Eyes.

I guess one can’t help but be moved when you see how passionate they are for one another. Just makes you all warm and fuzzy inside.

"This is the first day of my life
I swear I was born right in the doorway
I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed
They're spreading blankets on the beach

Yours is the first face that I saw
I think I was blind before I met you
Now I don’t know where I am
I don’t know where I’ve been
But I know where I want to go

And so I thought I’d let you know
That these things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realize that I need you
And I wondered if I could come home

Remember the time you drove all night
Just to meet me in the morning
And I thought it was strange you said everything changed
You felt as if you had just woke up
And you said “this is the first day of my life
I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you
But now I don’t care I could go anywhere with you
And I’d probably be happy”

So if you want to be with me
With these things there’s no telling
We just have to wait and see
But I’d rather be working for a paycheck
Than waiting to win the lottery
Besides maybe this time is different
I mean I really think you like me"

Dang...

2006-08-11T10:58:00.000-07:00

The Beatles 67-70 album has got to be one of the finest collections of music ever assembled. Sooooooo good on a rainy day.

Gotta get the smell of smoked salmon off my hands now and make myself all purty for our brolly wedding...

Bend this, you bastard…

2006-08-09T08:56:00.000-07:00

Why on god’s green earth is CBC Newsworld spending time talking to Uri Geller about the Middle East???? The guy’s a f******g liar who exploited people for money for decades.

And the host actually said, “oh I know you’re a paranormalist and not a magician, but if you could do magic, what would you do?” Well hell, since he’s a paranormalist (god only knows what that is), why doesn’t he just bend the frickin' rockets so they can’t fly? I can’t think of a better way to trivialize the suffering of these people than by inviting commentary from someone like this.

By day I am a pillar, but at night I tend to sway…

2006-08-08T14:36:00.000-07:00

I’m too tired to tag right now, but I will.

Up until Monday there was an amazing flamenco workshop here in town with Felicia German. She’s just an amazing dancer who lives in Jerez (originally from Baltimore), and we had her for the whole week. So for 7 days, I tappa tappa tappa-ed for 4 hours a day. And while my knee held up pretty well, it is feeling a little tired today. I figure it’s probably more my complete lack of sleep that’s making it feel sore. For some reason I was just too wired to get to sleep, it’s been a crazy crazy summer, it has.
The header is a great line from Stew . Check him out…

Voyage to Planet Electrolucy

2006-08-08T09:32:00.000-07:00

Warning: long post ahead.

So it’s taken me a little while to gather my thoughts on my CFMF adventures. I don’t want to sound too gushy, but it was such an unbelievable four days! The title above is to reflect two changes in my folkfest experience from the days of Camp Granolagal. The first being that since I lost my tarp I was forced to purchase a $2.47 vinyl table cloth from Zellers, so I had my own little planet rather than camp happening. And the weekend really wasn’t particularly granola, and I mean that in a good way.

This absolutely has to have been the most eclectic and interesting folk festival I’ve ever been too. One of the workshops actually turned into a rave! But I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Day one: I arrive on the lovely oasis that is Prince’s Island Park. I tell ya, if I could just live on that little island, I would. Anyway, the first act is some Scandinavian fiddling group I have no interest in, so I opt to check out the food situation. I quickly discover that the food stands are operating their own little economy where it’s considered completely rational to charge $10 (not including plate deposit) for two little skewers of chicken and tabouleh. Grr. However, at least the offerings are mighty tasty. Sunterra’s there, Shwarz’s, some yummy salad roll place, and of course India Palace. What is it about the festival setting that makes all suddenly become chicken bhoona addicts?

My old favourite Dan Bern then comes on. I love the guy, but I love him way more at the smaller stages, I find on the mainstage he’s kind of lost.

Return to tablecloth to hear the sweet, sweet tones of Nayaz. I realized seconds after hearing the singer’s voice that I’d heard her before in the opening minutes of the horrible movie Free Zone (how you can make the Israeli-Palestinian conflict boring these days is beyond me, but this film manages to do it). Azam Ali, the lead singer, is absolutely mesmerizing. And together the performance was phenomenal. I had planned to buy their CD but sadly everyone had the same idea and they were sold out by the end of the night.

Their performance was followed up by Feist and Broken Social Scene who both put on a great show. It was marred only by a crappy sound system that had waaaay too much bass and blew out the left speaker for most of what remained of the evening. What is it with sound techs these days??? After the Son Volt debacle I’m starting to wonder if there’s just a generation of sound engineers who are all hard of hearing!!! Despite that, it was a really great start to the festival.

Day two: Spent the day wandering Calgary, see post below for results on that front. That evening’s line-up was probably the weakest part of the whole four days. Robbie Fulks, Jeff Healey (doing swing jazz nowadays) et al. were all a lot of fun, but on the whole it was a bit of a let-down really from the previous night. A lot of people were of course there for Macy Gray, and I figured she’d be worth seeing as well. But I was pretty disappointed. She’s just not meant for that kind of venue. Indeed, I think it’s the very the quality of her voice that makes her interesting that makes her completed unsuited for live performances altogether (from what I’ve heard from others). Unfortunately that kind of strained quality means she needs to be really well engineered. So while I enjoyed some of it, it was on the whole a pretty under-whelming show.

Days three & four: Holy crap. Wow. Whatta day and whatta night. Both days and both nights. Workshops-o-rama filled my days. I didn’t even have time for a moment to pause to think about the crap of regular life because I was surrounded by wall-to-wall frickin’ awesome music. Okay, where to start with the highlights:

Kris Demeanor & his Crack Band.
Okay. I can admit it. I am completely in love with Kris Demeanor. He has such a wicked sense of humour and he’s just such a cutie. Every workshop he was at he was so incredibly wicked. Even Dan Bern was giving him full props and was cracking up over some of his lyrics. I followed him to Word Up the next day which was hysterical as well.

Waxing Electronica workshop: Wow. Again. It featured That 1 guy (he’ll need his own explanation below), the DJ and tabla player from Niyaz, and Tanya Tagaq (a throat singer) with her DJ. It ended up being a massive rave with all of us dancing like crazy. People kept coming by and asking who was playing, and then being thoroughly disappointed to hear it was a jam session and as such there was no CD to buy! But man, if these 3 got together to record, I’m first in line for a copy.

Kris Kristofferson: What can you say really? It was probably the most honest performance I’ve ever seen. Just a regular old Rhodes scholar and his guitar. My dad pretty much raised me on Kris, Waylon, Willie, and Johnny, and I was totally overwhelmed by the experience; what an unbelievably cool guy. By the time he sang Love is the Way my eyes were welling. And by the time his last one rolled around on his guitar (dad's favourite song and saying) I was basically in a puddle on the ground.

They're killing babies in the name of freedom.
We've been down that sorry road before.
They let us hang around a little longer than they should've.
It's too late to fool us anymore.

We've seen the ones, who killed the ones with vision,
Cold blooded murder right before your eyes
Today they hold the power, and the money, and the guns.
It's getting hard to listen to their lies.

I just gotta wonder what my daddy would've done,
If he'd seen the way they turned his dream around.
I've gotta go by what he told me:
"Try to tell the truth and stand your ground.
Don't let the bastards get you down."

Mining roads
Killing farmers
Blowing up schools full of children
Fighting communism

I just gotta wonder what my daddy would've done
If he'd seen the way they turned his dream around.
I've gotta go by what he told me:
"Try to tell the truth and stand your ground.
Don't let the bastards get you down."

Totally unbelievably amazing.

Stew: Great poet from New York with super-wry sense of humour. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get the image of a mass of gay Ken dolls storming the doors of Mattel holding little Tom Cruise signs, out of my head. It was his first trip to Canada, I REALLY hope it’s not his last.

That1Guy: Okay, this is not going to be easy to explain. The guy is a classically trained bassist who wanted to find a way to be an interesting performance virtuoso with his instrument. So he did what anybody would: he went to Home Depot and made his own instrument out of plumbing, a/c, and electronic supplies.

So now he plays what he calls his magic pipe and a pair of electrified cowboy boots. Can’t say much more than that so hopefully the videos will help you to understand.

I became a That1Guy groupie for the weekend. The best part of the last workshop of his I went to was that Dan Bern hadn’t yet seen him perform and was absolutely flabbergasted by what he saw. The look on his face was priceless. He got up next to perform and the first thing out of his mouth was “goddam magic pipe players, they’re a dime a dozen these days,” followed by a sad little blow on his harmonica. Too funny. But Dan Bern is no shrug and had done a new ‘talkin’ blues’ this time dedicated to Ani Difranco. And while I do find Stephen Fearing a bit boring after a while, I have to admit his ode to the Friendly Giant was pretty darn good, and his second piece was greatly enriched by the fact that That1Guy played his magic pipe as a classical bass to accompany him. Finally, as smoke literally began to come out of his pipe, a crazy tornadoesque wind began to pick up and that temperature drop came out of nowhere.

The mighty wind (hah) did result in a couple hours of pouring rain which found me wrapped up in my table cloth like a crepe huddled with coffee. I can’t say I minded much for awhile as I find Matthew Sweet smug and boring. But I was much relieved to see the clouds part just in time for

Miss Ani D. Now I’d actually gone off of her stuff around the time of To the Teeth. I didn’t really like the direction she was going and I was finding her stuff a lot more miss than hit. However recently a friend suggested I revisit her stuff as he said she’d gone back to her old style. And happily, her performance proved him right.

What a great show. She played for a full hour and a half and we danced up a storm. She was in fine form. And she closed with one of my favourite Ani songs, (partly a fav because it was the very first song I ever learnt on guitar) Overlap. I’ve really been grooving on the lyrics lately…

I search your profile
for a translation
I study the conversation
like a map
'cause I know there is strength
in the differences between us
and I know there is comfort
where we overlap

come here
stand in front of the light
stand still
so I can see your silhouette
I hope
you have got all night
'cause I'm not done looking,
no, I'm not done looking yet

each one of us
wants a piece of the action
you can hear it in what we say
you can see it in what we do
we negotiate with chaos
for some sense of satisfaction
if you won't give it to me
at least give me a better view

come here
stand in front of the light
stand still
so I can see your silhouette
I hope
you have got all night
'cause I'm not done looking
no,
I'm not done looking yet

I build each one of my songs
out of glass
so you can see me inside of them
I suppose
or you could just leave the image of me
in the background, I guess
and watch your own reflection superimposed

I build each one of my days out of hope
and I give that hope your name
and I don't know you that well
but it don't take much to tell
either you don't have the balls
or you don't feel the same

come here
stand in front of the light
stand still
so I can see your silhouette
I hope
you have got all night
'cause I'm not done looking
no, I'm not done looking yet

I search your profile for a translation
I study the conversation like a map
'cause I know there is strength
in the differences between us
and I know there is comfort
where we overlap

I have to say, this was a somewhat perfect ending to the weekend for me. The last (and only) time I’d seen Ani perform was in 2000, on the exact day my dad had gone into the hospital (unbeknownst to us for the last time) and obviously I was a bit distracted. I honestly do not remember a single thing from that evening, not one song. So it was really great to see her in this venue, at this time, when I really did feel like a “Joyful Girl.”

The City of Calgary: Where Yuppies Go to Die

2006-08-03T12:53:00.000-07:00

(and spawn, and make money from exploiting human and environmental resources, and ignore the massive poverty and drug problems, and learn how to accessorize with tack gear and bolo ties)

I tried. I really did try.

Usually when I go down to Calgary my visit is pretty purposeful and it’s a quick n’ dirty foray. But this time I had a little extra time on my hands, so I figured I’d actually try and get to know the city a bit better, maybe I would come to not hate it. I’m afraid it’s just not to be, I just can’t warm to this city.

The area of town I was staying in was a wee bit sketchy, so it didn’t start off well. Okay, I was a little thrown off by all the poverty downtown, but I suppose that can be expected. It’s pretty much par for the course nowadays: massive economic boom = massive growth in poverty in downtown core. But what really threw me for a loop was the scale of the drug problem in the city. I had absolutely no idea it was so bad. And we’re not talking essentially non-drugs like THC. We’re talking hardcore crack, cocaine, and heroin. I had the dubious pleasure of startling a couple of meth-heads taking hits while walking home one evening (meth addicts of course being pretty much the last people you want to ‘startle’ doing anything).

And of course, there’s oppressive corporate feel of the Calgary. I’ve always kind of had that feeling when I’ve gone there. But as I wandered the downtown looking for a Starbucks (yes, I’m aware of the irony here, but I had a coupon and I’m broke, remember?) it became even more apparent. I stopped for a moment and looked up to see myself standing between “Banker’s Hall” and the “Oil Tower” and thought ‘nope, this is soooooo not the place for me’.

Kudos for the funky places on 17th, but I just can’t shake the feeling that despite the words on the ‘ole birth certificate, I just don’t belong in Cowtown.

But their folk fest is FAN-FRICKIN-TASTIC! Details on that coming soon…

But hey, who says Calgary's homophobic?

Nrgh...

2006-07-23T20:19:00.000-07:00

After 17 hours of sewing, 16 hours of dog-barking madness, +30 heat, and a near-knee injury that sent images of sparkly crutches flashing before my eyes, I am sooooo ready for this road trip. And bed. I am sooooo ready for bed.

Later.

Clenched soul...

2006-07-20T20:52:00.000-07:00

After reading Residence on Earth a little while ago, I’ve been going after all the Neruda I can get my hands on. This one was one I hadn’t come across before – had a very visceral reaction to this one and wanted to share it…

We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.

I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.

Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.

I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.

Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?

The book fell that always closed at twilight
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.

Always, always you recede through the evenings
toward the twilight erasing statues.

Caring sucks (or why Jon Stewart is my personal saviour)

2006-07-18T19:16:00.000-07:00

They say that people working in the social sciences (in academia) and social justice realm tend to have the highest levels of depression, and I totally buy it. My personal therapy of choice?

The Daily Show.

Some time ago I decided that it would be best if I don’t watch the news on tv anymore, I was just getting too depressed. Instead I go to Google for my news and information. But that’s not entirely true; I do watch one news source. I have long looked to Mr. Stewart to present me with the news in a manner which will not have me wanting to jump of a cliff in despair for humanity’s future.

But the other day, Mr. Stewart struck a chord with me on another level. He was interviewing a former solider who had been acquitted of brutality charges during the current Iraq war. Now it became clear very quickly that this individual was in full support of the invasion and the justifications provided by the Bush administration for these actions. But what also became clear was the passion and genuine level of caring this man felt for the men under his command. And rather than go on the attack as he so brilliantly does usually, Jon Stewart displayed levels of both sensitivity and empathy I was incredibly impressed by. He realized that despite their divergences on the political and economic dimensions of the war, there are some things that go beyond that. There is a level of humanity that must be paramount in all our considerations. And he shifted his focus to showing a genuine concern for whether or not soldiers returning home are receiving the support and care they need.

I have incredible respect for that. So often, you are called weak for exhibiting any kind of emotion or compassion when dealing with important political or economic issues. I have great deference for the fact that he was willing to show that the real import in these kinds of issues lies in the human dimension. The fact that we are dealing with the lives of real people who live through heartbreaking experiences, who suffer tremendously, and many of whom ultimately lose their lives.

What’s brought all this on? Well, ABREA (the Brazilian asbestos victims group I work with) has just lost their organizer in Rio de Janeiro to asbestosis. Rosa was not yet 60, and an incredible woman, I feel privileged to have had the chance to meet her on my last trip. This was the second death ABREA has had in the last few weeks. And a short time ago a friend of mine in the US lost her husband to mesothelioma.

But I’m supposed to sit back and digest these losses with some kind of objective scientificity if I want to have any legitimacy in the discourse over asbestos. As though the suffering and loss experienced by these people should simply be quantified in a sick cost-benefit analysis. Bullshit. Compassion is not a weakness, it’s what differentiates us from sociopaths.

And so I say, bless you Jon Stewart (and not in an intelligent design is responsible for our place in the food chain sort of way).

Return to Camp Granolagal

2006-07-17T12:36:00.000-07:00

Well, it’s that time of year ago, festival time in Alberta, yeehaw! I have to say, yet again, that summer in Edmonton frickin’ rocks. I love the vibe in the city, the wooftop nights, the music, theatre, the whole shebang. Which is why I feel a tad guilty in now choosing to abandon this fair city in the quest for the ultimate summer music experience.

A month or so ago a friend asked me if I’d be going to Folkfest. Indeed, while I was an avid fester for many years, I’ve not really been much into it the last 5 or 6 years, for sundry reasons. But this year, I have felt it calling me back. But when I looked at this year’s line-up in Edmonton, I can’t say that it really did too much for me. The acts that I do like, I’ve seen half a dozen times anyway. So it was suggested to me that I take a quick perusal of the Calgary line-up. So I did. HOLY CRAP ON A CRUTCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT A FRICKING AWESOME LINEUP!!!!!!!!! Ani Difranco (who I hear shan’t be touring too much longer due to the really sad diagnosis of carpal tunnel syndrome and with whom I’ve become happily reacquainted with in recent weeks); Dan Bern; Dar Williams; Macy Gray; Son Volt; and…drum roll please…..Kris Kristofferson; and many more.

Holy crap. It comes pretty damn close to a dream line-up for me. So I pondered whether I should abandon my (now) home city in favour of returning the city of my birth.

Some things to consider while making this decision:
-I have almost universally had crappy-ass experiences in all my trips to Calgary (while admittedly I don’t have much of a recollection of my birth, I imagine it was rough on my mom).
-I’m totally frickin broke and going south would incur transportation and accommodation costs that I’m completely unprepared for at the moment.
-I really really really really really really want to see Kris Kristofferson as there’s only him and Willie left from the Highwaymen (and he’s a B-horror movie legend, second only to Lance Henriksen, of course).

And despite my somewhat sketchy past experiences in Cowtown, it is responsible one of the best folkfest experiences I ever had. What, you might be asking, were some of those experiences? Well, here they are for you, you curious kitten, you:
-Sliding (later rolling as my momentum picked up quite unexpectedly) down the mud hill during Sinead O’Connor at my inaugural Folk Fest in ‘97.
-Arlo Guthrie performing Alice’s Restaurant so all my friends finally understood what I was always going on about.
-Hearing Martin Sexton sing Black Sheep for the first time and holding that one note for the most heavenly 20 seconds ever.
-Eric Bibb singing Panama Hat at the 2000 folkfest – thank god for the large hat I was wearing at the time so no one could see me bawling my eyes out.
-All beer tent forays with Simon, Todd, Juan, Clint, Laura, Moops, et al., too numerous to list.

But the topper, the coolest FF moment of them all was:
-David Byrne singing Once in a Lifetime at Calgary Folkfest while Clint and Adam and I stood stunned by the fact we were actually hearing the Talking Head himself sing this song. I know I wasn’t the only one who choked back a tear or two during that. And I have to say, I was quites taken by the venue for this blossoming festival.

So this year, with a little trepidation for a whole shwackload of reasons, I have decided that my FF excursion will be to Calgary. C’mon, it’s Kris frickin’ Kristofferson!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

While this was supposed to be a Thelma & Louise-type road trip, I’m willing to go it solo since Thelma can’t make it(I’m willing to be Louise since we’ve got the whole thyroid thing in common) even though I say thesis shmesis (jk!). I think I’m in need of a little hippie folk music rockin’ out time on my own anyway.

And who knows, even though I’m without a Thelma, maybe I’ll meet my very own Brad Pitt anyway.

On the Writer's Edge

2006-07-17T09:03:00.000-07:00

Here's the list compiled at this point, please let me know what you can add!

Adaptation; American Splendor; Bag of Bones; Barton Fink;Book of Illusions; Brendan Behan: A Life; Bukowksi: Born Into This; Capote; Crumb; Deconstructing Harry; Edgar Allan Poe: A Critical Biography; Factotum; Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas; Goodnight Desdemona, Good Morning Juliet; Gothic; Haunted Summer; Henry & June; Hitchhiker; I Capture the Castle; In the Mouth of Madness; Misery; Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters; Mrs. Parker & The Vicious Circle; Naked Lunch; Pandaemonium; Secret Window; Sideways; Sylvia; The Bell Jar: A Novel; The Dark Half; The Hours; The Lost Weekend; The Professor and the Madman; The Rum Diary; The Shining; The Singing Detective; The Squid and the Whale; Throw Momma from the Train; Total Eclipse; Wonder Boys

I love summer in Edmonton

2006-07-13T20:56:00.000-07:00

How much do I love summer in Edmonton? I love it sooooooo much that I passed on an invitation for beer in favour of spending 3 and a half hours cleaning up the backyard for a summer bbq tomorrow night. 3+ hours of weedwacking (when they say use eye protection, they sooooooo mean it), hedge-trimming, and lifting the lawnmower back and forth over the fence because the stupid back gate is, well, stupid.

And does my yard look like a paradise fit for the consumption of copious amounts of caipirinas? Well, not exactly. I have realized that our lawn is probably the most environmentally friendly in the neighbourhood, which means it looks like crap. This probably due in large part to the fact that the only time we ever water the lawn is when Lucy wants to play in the sprinkler, so only tiny isolated patches ever get hydrated. And the hedges aren’t exactly looking like Scissorhands masterpieces. But at least they’re looking a little less like Day of the Triffids.

But ah well, tomorrow night it shan’t matter much what state the yard is in. ‘Cause summer in Edmonton rocks.

Back you fiend!

2006-07-12T13:12:00.000-07:00

Hurrah, the appropriate dosage of Monty Python appears to have staved off that foul cold. Enjoy some wedding pics:

May I call you Angel Drawers?

2006-07-10T21:06:00.000-07:00

A cup of tea, Monty Python, and the couch. Thank goodness for that new movie channel we've got. True, it's likely to serve as quite the distraction, but today it knew just what I needed as a new cold slowly creeps its way in: "And now for something completely different."

Off to cuddle up with my ex-parrot now. Photos later...

Sigh...

2006-07-09T15:55:00.001-07:00

Todd & Aliya's beautiful wedding took place yesterday. A wonderful event, two of my dearest friends finding their soulmate in each other. I really was honoured to be there and to be able to share the day with all our friends.

Am much too tired and too maudlin to write more, I'll post other photos later. But right now, I'll leave you with this gorgeous photo of the two of them and one of my favourite Pablo Neruda poems(*mental note* MUST get copy of book of Neruda's Love Sonnets):

I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topaz
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
So I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep

Echgleh

2006-07-06T11:54:00.000-07:00

That is the sound my lungs now make every time I’m out in the rain. Goddam, I cannot believe this Brazilian bronchial super bug I’ve now had for nearly 3 months. It’s insane, it lies completely dormant for weeks and then as soon as it rains, I’m horking again. Of course a reasonable person might suggest that I should stop walking out in the rain. But alas, I do love it so. Guess I shall simply have to live with the echglehs...

Torn between two love ( - ers?)

2006-06-30T17:36:00.000-07:00

Okay, so as my adopted team (Vai Brasil!!!) plows through its opposition at FIFA I now find myself in a bit of a quandary. You see, Wimbledon has begun. And where there is Wimbledon, there is Roger Federer. Oh yes…Roger. Mmm…sweet, sweet Roger.

For those of you out of the tennis loop, my (I guess I have to share him with my mom and a few others too) Roger is being touted as the greatest tennis player of all time. After so many years of boring smash and bash Sampras-types, he brought back finesse and skill to the game. Oh yeah, and he’s totally kicking ass (the only person who’s beaten him in the last year is Rafael Nadal, who ain’t so bad to watch either).

So, what’s my problem? Well, since the World Cup is in Europe this year I’m having several scheduling conflicts as the two tournaments are aired largely at the same time. Yes, yes, I know that FIFA’s only every four years and it’s rare I get to see a Brazilian soccer team on TV here, but Roger’s playing absolutely brilliantly and it’s hard to peel my eyes off him.

Okay, so in the complaints department maybe this doesn’t rank too high – but it’s making my mornings rather difficult in another way as well – I’m not starting my work until 3 in the frickin’ afternoon! And further, what the *hell* am I going to do on July 10th when they’re both over!?! I’m going to be in some serious withdrawal…I may require beer.

P.S. You Rock My World: Final Musings from Saskatchewan

2006-06-29T09:03:00.000-07:00

Not a bad way to spend my last day on the flatlands, eh? Plus 28 degrees, Heinekens, a pool, and a view. I may have gotten a wee bit too much sun however, as I’m in a teensy bit of pain at the moment.

Anyway, so I’ve been writing a ton the last while, maybe it’s some kind of weird purging ritual I have to go through in my decompression??? So I figured, what’s one more contemplative (hah) blog!?

This trip home has been a good one for me, really very relaxing. It’s really been good for me to be away from things and help me gain some perspective. The other day I visited the gravesite of an old friend of mine who killed himself some years ago, not really sure why. But it had been a few years since I’d been there and while driving by I felt I should stop. I was so struck by the incredibly fitting epitaph they had for him, I had forgotten what it read: “he was easy to love.” But what really struck me while I was there, was exactly how much life has gone by since his passing. How many births, deaths, relationships, and life changing events have happened in the time since he’s been gone for what, in relative terms, is a short period of time. He never even had the chance to find out what potential lay ahead for him. There is, of course, always something different when someone ends their own life – why he didn’t think there was anything there for him in the future. But it strikes me even more when I think about Juan. When I think about how much potential lay in him, in that brilliant, funny, loving soul that’s gone now.

So I went for a walk to ponder some of these things and this song by one of my very favourite bands came round on my CD player:

“I was at a funeral the day I realized
I wanted to spend my life with you.
Sitting down on the steps, at the old post office
The flag was hanging at half mast.
And I was thinking ‘bout how everyone was dying,
And maybe it’s time to live…”

What this means for me right now, I’m not entirely sure – but it just clicked with me. It sort of sums up things for me right now. The last 6 months I’ve dealt with a lot of death, with a lot of loss. But despite all those things, I know that I’m an incredibly lucky person who’s had some pretty amazing opportunities, and has some pretty amazing people in my life. And I have only myself to blame if I don’t make the most of these opportunities; if I don’t visit the places I’ve been dying to see; if I don’t nurture all the relationships in my life; if I don’t at least try to go after what it is I really want. In yet another clichéd vein, what do any of us really have to lose in the grand scheme of things? But there’s always so much to gain.

So yeah, maybe it’s time to live…

Prairie Wanderings

2006-06-28T08:19:00.000-07:00

So I had some interesting prairie wanderings this trip home. I actually visited a nice chunk of Saskatchewan that I hadn’t seen in quite some time: Moose Jaw (home of too many fabric shops for someone as broke as I am); Southey (home of…mmm…”Pizzas and Cream”); Qu’Appelle (home of 2 gorgeous clothing shops which provided me with 2 marvy new skirts); Indian Head (host to the stinky but “crafty” elevator); Lumsden (er…home of a big valley); and of course, Punnichy.

The latter city, no…town…no…village, holds a special place in my heart though as it’s where my dad was born and raised in a wee little shack of a house. My sister and I visited last week and though it was disappointing to see that many more of the houses of our (but especially her) memories had been torn down, we were at least a little heartened to see that the place was still alive and not in quite as dire a shape as we’d thought it might be. Amongst the poverty of that little town though, it’s really quite something to think that our dad was amongst the very poorest and our family was generally treated like trash there. My grandfather would never be paid for his smithy work; they wouldn’t let me dad watch TV through the windows with the other kids; they wouldn’t extend any credit to the family at the shops. But the kicker was a story my mom told me the other day that I totally hadn’t remembered.

After my grandfather died (he was only 57 when he died suddenly), the family was in dire need of food. They just wanted to buy some beef or something, and were a nickel short but the store wouldn’t allow them a cent of credit. Apparently to keep their house warm in the winter, they used to layer wallpaper over the walls (couldn’t afford insulation or electricity), and someone recalled that a nickel might have been caught between the layers. So what they ended up having to do was literally rip down their walls to find the nickel so she could feed them all. How heartbreaking is that? It’s no wonder my dad had just a wee bit of a chip on his shoulder about people in that town…oops, I mean village.

Anyway, it really was nice to get out onto the prairies again. I’ve flown nearly every time I’ve come here in the last 6 or 7 years, and I’ve really missed being able to just sit and look at the prairies rolling by. Some of this province really is quite stunning, and if you haven’t taken the time to drive through it, I think you’ve really missed out. If it weren’t for the ticks (*shudder*) I honestly could have just sat out on the hillsides near Punchy (sic) for days.

I strongly suggest you take the opportunity to spend some time wandering these Prairies if you haven’t yet. Hurry, before bovineclassifieds.com takes over the whole damn thing.

6 degrees of blog-(something that rhymes with 'ation')

2006-06-27T09:59:00.000-07:00

Every wonder whether anyone’s actually reading your blog? Whether the various musings you put to paper (er, keyboard) are actually being consumed by someone else? I have to say you’d be surprised at the ways in which someone you’d never expect can come across your words.

The day before I left to come here I had a strange experience. A writer from the Journal happened to be a friend of Mingus Tourette’s, whose play I had written about earlier. He was apparently looking for reactions to Postcards (which was so unfairly maligned by a certain chickenshit writer from SEE who wouldn’t put his name to his ‘review’ – though I use the term lightly) and came across my blog. He went through the whole thing and figured there was an interesting feature in it.

I didn’t really mention this to a whole lot of people because I almost panicked. I had to mentally run through the various postings from this year of blogging to figure out just *how* embarrassed I should be about this. I’ve never used the blog as a personal journal, but of course I was reminded by the writer about my lengthy essay on petit gateaux, the photo of my dogs sporting superhero costumes, etc. I couldn’t help but feel a little naked, a wee bit vulnerable. I’ve been interviewed about asbestos stuff before, and my personal connection before, but none of the interviews have focused on me as an individual. So I was feeling a little insecure about it all.

I needn’t have worried, the article ran yesterday. It was a good one and I was really happy with it, but it does serve as a reminder to be careful what you blog – you just never know who’s reading.

Oh yeah, and one must be especially careful when you’re an “emotional” girl like me, as the asbestos industry called me in their response to my claims that they’re evil corporate murderers. Oh well, at least I’m an emotional person who doesn’t have the blood her hands. Whohoo!

Curse you Iron Chef Hashimoto!

2006-06-25T15:52:00.000-07:00

Goddamn my stupid thyroid. I was finally starting to feel chilled out and just slightly refocused here when bang, my thyroid crashes again. Now generally I don’t think of the whole thyroid thing as a big deal in terms of health problems. In the grand scheme of things, who frickin’ cares if you have to take a few pills every day for the rest of your life (that are mercifully cheap). God knows there are so many worse things in this life. But every so often IT JUST PISSES ME OFF!

I’d just lost the extra weight from the last go round in Brazil (I know, I know, I shouldn’t complain about the weight – but I’ve been tiny my whole life), had a fair bit of energy, and was feeling pretty good about things. Within the span of only three days, though, I’m back to sleeping 10+ hours, having zero energy, dragging my ass, feeling cloudy and sad, gained 5 pounds overnight, and the hives, oh the hives. So now I’m slicing and dicing my mom’s leftover thyroid meds to try increase my dose to get back to normal (heh). I’ll probably be back to normal just in time for the end of my vacation. Goddamit.

On the brighter side of things, though, I went to see Matt Dusk as part of the Jazz Festival the other night, and I have to say it was quite a groovy evening. And to any of you naysayers who think I’m just being trendy listening to these guys, I’ve been into the whole lounge scene for quite a while. How can you not enjoy love it? What’s nicer than lying on the floor with someone special, with some groovy mood lighting, tasty cocktails and listening to a great crooner?

But I had taken a bit of a break from attending shows after that nasty Jaymz Bee encounter (I shudder even recalling it now), he totally turned me off going to live shows. But with the arrival of Buble and Dusk (both of whom are clearly not 50 year old perverts with cocaine habits), I was really excited to go to this show. And Mr. Dusk did not disappoint. He has a wicked sense of humour that I was really not expecting, and the tunes are great. He really plays the crooner character well and has a self-effacing manner that just cracked me up.

And c’mon, what a cutie!! He’s surprisingly taller than he seems on stage as I discovered afterwards. And any guy who is willing to admit to a chick his similarities to a Muppet (and Fozzie bear specifically), is way cool in my books. So for L, who wanted a photo if I could get it – voila! And to boot I’m wearing the absolutely awesome dress I got with my Maggie Walt gift certificate. I've got to be the only person who goes to South America for three months and comes back paler than when she left...

As Oil reserves finally run out, a young girl’s thoughts turn to flights of FIFA (and a mysterious Brazilian man).

2006-06-22T08:30:00.000-07:00

I’m not sure that it’s gone as far as my mother claims, that I’m now her ‘daughter, the jock’. But I’ve definitely developed an appreciation for sports of late. I think it started in Brazil with the genuine enthusiasm for both soccer and tennis, but the momentum was kept up by the atmosphere in Edmonton, then the French Open and FIFA, and now Wimbledon is creeping up on us once again.

I will say that this year’s playoffs really rekindled an appreciation for hockey that I’d not had since I was 8! People say it’s the new rules, or it might be the Oiler-craze, whatever it was, it sucked me in. There was almost a tear in my eye Monday night when the panned the Oilers bench at the end of the game. So I say thank you for the hockey (to be sung, of course, to the tune of ABBA’s “Thank you for the music”).

But now I must move on to bigger and brighter things: the World Cup! Of course, neither of my nationalities are in this year. Of course I never would have thought Canada would be, but I’d had a faint hope Ireland would qualify! So I shall have to choose the next best thing and go with my temporary homeland of Brazil. True, they’re also a strong bet to do well, but I genuinely feel they should win. And mmm…that Kaka. But a friend told me to take a closer look at the goalie, Dida, which I did. I could not for the life of me figure out why he looked so familiar. And then I realized: my train boy!

One story I never got around to telling was of the mysterious man on the train that I fell in love with. I was hung over, tired, and sick. Not feeling my prettiest by a mile. To top it off, the train was just packed and I had to stand for the hour long trip. Anyway, I soon noticed this Brazilian man across from me smiling at me, and sweet jeezus, what a beautiful man. Not in a typical way (those of you have heard my theses on Latin men know what I mean here), but he had the warmest face and smile I have ever seen, eyes that just make you melt (I swear this is the one and only time I will be this schmaltzy on here!). And his manner was just so striking. On a hot, stinky train with pieces of wood covering the massive holes in the floor, he was smiling and joking with the little kids next to him who had no seats. We locked eyes for nearly the entire trip. Then it got really surreal and these buskers came out of nowhere making up and singing songs about all the people on the train – this was remarkable since generally the people asking for money on the train are selling toothbrushes and cookies, not musical creations. He and I laughed together the whole way. It was just one of those moments. The kind that just floors you and you’re not sure what to do with, but damn, it’s fun while it lasts.

But alas, my stop came and I had to leave. Had I not had an interview booked for that hour I would absolutely have stayed on that train. Especially since in a city of 22 million you’re not too likely to bump into someone again, especially since we’d already actually left Sao Paulo and gone through 5 more cities by the time I disembarked. You know that James Blunt song, “Beautiful?” Of course you do, it’s been overplayed on every continent. Anyway, it was totally like that! It didn’t hurt that when I stepped off the train the song that was playing was Beautiful (what did I tell ya – overplayed).

Or maybe it was more Sliding Doors-ish; what would have happened if in that instant I’d stayed? Ooooooooh. But alas, I did not, and perhaps that was the way it was meant to be. Or perhaps nothing is. Meant to be, or means anything, or something. It’s too late and I’m too tired to get too Camus-ey (Camooey?). But it’s one of those things that really stuck with me. Now I have other people/things/whatever sticking in my brain, but still, that one was nice while it stuck.

Mmm…Dida.

Whooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

2006-06-19T14:04:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I’ve already blogged today, but this was too cute not to mention! I just called home to check my messages, and there was a wrong number – sounded like he might have been native.

Anyway, he says “well this is the wrong person, but how but them Oilers eh?? I’m calling from the Northwest Territories – and you rock Edmonton! I’m sorry bout the wrong number, but whooooooooooo! Goooo!”

Game on, baby!

2006-06-19T08:41:00.000-07:00

Alrightey, so I’m done with my anti-father’s day ranting and now will move onto something that was near and dear to my paternal figure’s heart: hockey!!! I can’t help but wonder what life would have been like for us if my dad had been able to put on that 20lbs the NHL scout had requested and he had started playing in the majors. Well, I wouldn’t exactly have a life to contemplate since I wouldn’t exist (I know, perish the thought!). But I’m sure my mom’s life would have been mighty different! But I digress…

Okay, I will admit that I partly wanted the Oil to lose on Wednesday night, but honestly, I just really wanted a good night’s sleep and I didn’t want to awake to some kind of post-apocalyptic 28 Days Later scenario. That being said, I am totally stoked for tonight’s game! This past Saturday I actually forced my sweet Irish mother to watch the game and we were both right in there, man!

And I am actually lamenting the fact that I won’t be in Edmonchuck to enjoy this! To watch my friends run down the streets naked (you SO know who you are); to scream ‘Goilers!!!!!!!’ of the roof-top of the Dog; and to just generally rock-out with you all.

But I shall celebrate in my own way. In honour of the final, and father’s day, we shall be preparing the traditional family Stanley Cup meal of mini sandwiches and chips and dip. Now if I can just find one of those goddamn provincial liquor boards to find some Heineken, I’ll be set. Party on.

Bah Humbug.

2006-06-18T18:25:00.000-07:00

Okay. So if I don’t have a father anymore, no one else is allowed to celebrate father’s day, dammit. Actually, I don’t really care, especially given that the various hype and media that traditionally surrounds father's day doesn't in any way bear a resemblance to my own dad (i.e. barbecues, fishing, golf). Goddam he was hard to shop for! Okay, there was the typical dad thing of liking beer, but that was never a typically father’s day kind of thing to buy here, especially in Regina: home of public liquor boards.

So what’s my point here? Well, I guess I’m just setting the scene – it was an unbelievably quiet day here in the Queen City. Not only was it a Sunday, but the throngs of non-fatherless children had whisked their pappies off to cottages, or the beach or Montana’s or some damn thing, thus leaving the downtown core desolate. But after having watched enough FIFA to have permanently fried my retinas, I really needed to go for a walk. Badly. That and the fact that I’m finding that nowadays if I go more than one or two days without dancing I really don’t feel too good. So with my trusty Discman I hit the streets of my hometown of 15 years in an attempt to reconnect with Pile ‘o Bones.

My reconnection didn’t exactly happen though. Maybe it was the whole Brazil thing, the whole ‘needing to re-evaluate life’ thing I’ve been going through lately, and maybe it was when someone pointed out to me the other day that I’ve been in Edmonton now for nearly 10 years, but the city really feels foreign to me now. (The exception to this entire discussion when I’m within the confines of my parents’ home when I always feel comfy and cozy, when I’m being mothered, etc. which is the reason I needed to come here at this time).

The city, of course, is changing, and it really is a lovely place (I’m soooooo not getting into that debate right now), and while I know my way around just fine and dandy, it’s really feeling alien to me. There is something very isolating about walking the streets of a city knowing that you’re not going to bump into any of your friends, not going to be able to go for that impromptu coffee or pint. Sure, there’s a couple of acquaintances remaining here, but not really friends. Not the people you can talk complete and utter bullshit to, share your wack-job plans and schemes with and, most importantly, sit with in complete silence. That part of Regina is gone for me now, and it’s really kind of sad.

Now maybe I’m being a wee bit over-the-top maudlin about all this, it may have to do with the fact that when I went for this 2 hour excursion I had “I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning” on replay the whole time. I have absolutely been hooked on this CD since I saw Bright Eyes at Red’s (I know, I know) the other week. Goddamn it’s a great album! You know when you hear a record and it’s just got you so happy that people are still making good music that you want to cry and skip down the street? Hmm, maybe that’s just me. Anyway, it’s a damn fine album I highly recommend. The only thing is some of his lyrics on this album are too easy to connect with in a visceral way and you can send yourself into a spiral of over-contemplation very very quickly. Trust me on this one – choose your listening times with discretion.

Ahem...

2006-06-17T08:15:00.000-07:00

GO OILERS!

That is all.

What a home-coming!

2006-06-16T09:55:00.001-07:00

So not only has Regina been blessed with my presence for the next couple weeks, but they now get to have the likes of Colin Thatcher gracing them! I was floored today to discover that the convicted murderer was just released to a halfway house in Regina after 22 years for hacking up his wife, Joanne Thatcher.

Yeah, yeah, I know I’m not exactly Miss Crime & Punishment, but this particular guy I hold in real contempt. Aside from being a murdering bastard and a former Conservative MLA (both sufficient to earn my contempt), the guy placed one of our close family friends on his hit list!!! Maggie Siggins (her husband being my unofficial godfather of sorts), the author of A Canadian Tragedy (made into a movie with our treasures Kenneth Welsh & Kate Nelligan), after writing this best-selling book, found her name on a list of people Thatcher wanted to get rid of after his conviction! Not only was the guy a murderer, but he was also an idiot. Guess where the genius kept this list? In his prison cell. The guy’s convicted of hiring someone to off his wife so what does he do? He writes up a list of other people he wants to have hit and keeps it in his cell. Yep, nothing screams innocence like your own personal hit list!

I don’t know exactly where this halfway house is, but it’s downtown. We’re in that general vicinity ourselves – near the legislature – and it’s just a stone’s throw away from the house where Joanne was murdered. I don’t know, maybe it’s all this grey weather we’re having that’s putting me in this mood – but I’m genuinely creeped out by this...or maybe it's sleep deprivation...whatever...

3-day torture contest!

2006-06-14T07:13:00.000-07:00

ATTENTION WRITERS!

Okay folks, a BIG apology that I didn't post this sooner as the deadline's tomorrow. But you can complete an application online, so no worries!

For those of you that don't know, every year a 3-day novel contest is held for aspiring writers attempt to attempt to write a complete novel in, you guessed it, 3 days!!! This year people will be able to watch the pain and agony that is this contest for themselves.

The Southpoint Chapters will be having 12 writers undergo this grueling literary battle live in the store. Having witnessed my sister attempt this several times, I can tell you it's VERY entertaining for observers. And if you're brave enough to actually want to attempt this feat yourself, what better opportunity than this!?

More information and an online application are available at booktelevision.com
I'm attaching an application to this email as well for your perusal. The application is quick and easy so you've got time to get it in AND to pass it along to any writer friends.

This event has already received publicity in the national press and a buzz is quickly developing. They're looking for interesting people who have the guts to stick out the weekend in a fishbowl. The event will take place on the September long weekend and a documentary will be produced about the weekend. It's a great opportunity for anyone who wants to break out onto the writing scene with some drama!

And if you're not a writer yourself, encourage a friend so that you can have the pleasure of taunting them throughout the whole process and watching them slowly going insane - that's what I do!

Aw nunts.

2006-06-09T07:49:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I’m forced to eat my words. This week I set out to see the play “Postcards from Hell” at Nextfest. A couple folks I know were involved and I wanted to check it out. However I was pretty trepidatious about seeing it and I didn’t figure I’d get that much out of it. You see, the performance is based on the book of poetry, Nunt. I myself had not been a huge fan of the book – I found the flow disruptive and the prose just didn’t work for me. I just didn’t expect I was going to enjoy this.

But I have to say I must eat every little last one of my words. I was incredibly impressed by the production in terms of its adaptation to the stage, the direction, and the performance of its lead. Suddenly a great deal more of the text connected with me. I would go so far as to say this is how Nunt was meant to be appreciated. The text has always felt like a narrative to me rather than poetry and as such, the stage seems to be its most appropriate medium. So kudos to cast and crew. Jason Carnew did a great job with the direction, and Charles Netto did an amazing job with what was really a very difficult role to perform convincingly.

There’s just one show left on Sunday and you should really try and catch it. Info’s at nextfest.ca and if anyone wants to go I would actually go see it again (never thought I'd be saying that!)

Oh yes, and thanks also to everyone who came out and supported the I-India show. It was a great time and we raised a nice chunk of money for the orphanage. Now I must go spend my gift certificate at Maggie’s store…yeehaw!!! I’ve already got my dress picked out!

Work it, baby!

2006-05-31T12:31:00.000-07:00

Okay, I figure since I'm sort of doing the 'modelling thing' at the Savoy tomorrow, I best take this test!

However, I will plug the designer I'm working for since I looooooooove her clothes. Maggie Walt www.maggiewalt.com

Come to the Savoy tomorrow and help out the I-India orphanage! www.i-indiaonline.com/

Which fashion designer are you?

Ralph Lauren. A hopeless romantic, you love love. You are a free-spirit, who paints and explores nature in her freetime. Ever so girly, you like flowery things that capture the innocense you project. Often a bit Bohemian, your style is usually relaxed and comfortable. Guys adore your cuter-than-life-itself nature and free-love philosophy.
Take this quiz!

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I gotta say, there are a couple of elements of that description that I'm loathe to admit are true...sigh.

Knowing me, knowing you...

2006-05-22T09:24:00.000-07:00

So I’m now back in the land of land-ravaging oil production and, of course, the Oilers themselves! Indeed, though I’m loathe to admit it, I’m kind of getting into the whole playoffs thing. But more on that later…

I’m in decompression mode right now and experiencing a little bit of the old culture shock. It really only seems like it was yesterday that I left for Sao Paulo.

So now I’m left with the task of trying to figure out what really went on in the last 3 months, what my experiences have meant, where I go from here. Yeah, yeah, I write my thesis, but on a more abstract level, I feel like my experiences there have changed me in ways I wasn’t expecting and don’t quite understand. The problem is deciphering it all now. I feel like I’m starting out anew, in a sense: “Kyla: the sequel.” But the sequel to Alien or Star Wars, not one of those other crappy sequels.

In a more concrete vein, I feel incredibly driven to get the Canadian asbestos issue’s profile raised. The situation was so much worse in Brazil than I had expected. And more shocking was how much their government uses the Canadian position to justify their policies. It was thoroughly disgusting and exhausting.

There’s only so many times you can walk past the dump of asbestos waste and read the lovely warning “don’t breathe” while you see kids playing all over it. There are only so many families you can talk to devastated by our so-called safe asbestos. Obviously I may have been able to be more objective about all this if it weren’t for my own history, but I think if you can be objective about this kind of suffering there’s something seriously wrong with your soul.

Or indeed, you may be one of the many asbestos whores I met in my wanderings. These mother-f&#*@$rs get 400,000 Reais a year to peddle this crap to workers. That’s about $200,000 a year Canadian – clearly I’m in the wrong business. However I can, to some extent, sleep at night with out several thousand deaths on my conscience. I truly don’t know how they can sleep at night. However given that the average Brazilian salary is $100/month, I imagine it’s on a lovely fluffy mattress stuffed endangered condor feathers, covered with the pelts of baby seals whose heads were bashed in. Something like that.

I am happy, however, that I had the opportunity to make these guys a little bit nervous. The photo attached is of one of the Brazilian Chrysotile Institute cohorts feverishly snapping photos of me with his camera phone when I flatly told the conference members that everything you’ve heard from the Canadian government and the CI is complete and utter bullshit. Fancy them getting freaked out by little ole’ me. Hehe.

Okay, all this is getting a little too serious and esoteric for my liking right now – it’s just not good for my brain. But I think on the whole, it’s all good. The many hours I spent pondering on my balcony with Brahmas and Dona Flors have to have been a good thing…

mmm...chocolate

2006-05-12T11:32:00.000-07:00

So I caved. I set out on this venture promising to avoid Macdonald’s at all costs (save for ice cream). But alas, I could not hold out any longer. The smell of those French fries just lured me in. But, in my own defense, at least I didn’t order the big Macpherson combo, I ordered the all new “McCalebresa” combo. Mmm…tasty. And dammit, I make no apologies for my complete and utter enjoyment of those fried batatas. However I fully recognize that my trip, and the two subsequent trips, to McD’s were more likely motivated by homesickness than any real craving.

But I have found one food item that I do find myself craving now: the petit gateau. Just about the best dessert a person – okay, a woman – could want. And every restaurant has their own version of this lovely item. Essentially, you take one of those disgustingly giant lava cakes we have at home, shrink it, add a hot chocolate sauce and ice cream to it. Variations include: passion fruit sauce; strawberry sauce; gelato instead of ice cream; and crushed nuts (farofa) in addition. My god. This is just about the best thing I’ve ever had. So in recent weeks I made it my mission to seek out the best petit gateau in Sao Paulo. Being a city of 20 million people and, subsequently, quite a few restaurants, it’s no simple task. But I was willing to make the personal sacrifice in order to provide you, the select few who are reading this blog, with this vitally important information.

So here it is. Kyla’s top 5 petit gateaux:

5 – My hotel. Okay, it’s actually not a very good petit gateau. The only reason it made it onto the list at all is the fact that it’s brought to my door. That fact alone makes it awesome. I won’t mention how many times it’s been brought to my door.
4 – This pub we went to after kicking some asbestos ass. Bar Veniza or something. All I really remember about this place was the horrible service. This is really saying something since in general, service here has been excellent. Apparently the waiters there just weren’t ‘in the mood’ to serve. Bad timing on our part I guess, hmph. Anyway, I fine gateau which was served with vanilla ice cream and passion fruit sauce instead of the traditional chocolate. The cake itself wasn’t the best, but the hot chocolate in the middle mixed incredibly well with passion fruit. I think. I remember saying that at the time, but we’d had several self-congratulatory beers at that point.
3- America. Yep, this is pretty much like the Simpson’s episode where they go to Japan only to eat at “America town.” However, I will say that their take on so-called American cuisine is not what you’d expect. One piece of advice when you visit Brazil: if you’re planning on ordering filet mignon – don’t. My friend Ana swears this is the best to be had, but she has not yet tried locations #2 and #1. However, it is indeed a fine purveyor of gateaux. The special touch is the addition of farofa.
2- Bar Matriz. Two. Count ‘em, two wee gateaus with a spectacular presentation. No frozen cakes here, freshly baked in the restaurant and served piping hot so the liquidy middle just smooshes all over the plate. Mmm…smooshy.
1- Freddisimo. Man oh man oh man. It’s probably an incredibly good thing I only found this place last week. It’s a gelateria in the food court of Ibirapuera shopping mall. The presentation is definitely lacking as it’s served on a plastic plate. However, the cake melts in your mouth and the gelato is so smooth the whole thing is just unbelievably good.

So what will I miss most about Sao Paulo? The petit gateaux. Oh yes. Oh yes.

Oh yeah...and crepes on a stick.

Backwards country my ass!

2006-05-08T20:12:00.000-07:00

Brazil is a country of paradoxes. Wow, holy cliché. Anyway, it’s true. When you wander through Sao Paulo it’s incredibly easy to forget that you’re in a developing country. The skyscrapers, the banking technology, the fashion, and the pockets of massively wealth people can overshadow the fact that this country has some of the greatest inequalities in wealth in the world. But today I want to share with you two of the best examples of technological advancement in this country that make us look like we’re bass-ackward:

1 – Fast-food efficiency. I love going to food courts in shopping malls here. First off, there’s actually a menu to look at for each business, one that you actually hold in your hand! And there’s a person there whose job it is to actually help you choose things and answer your questions! I know. It’s crazy. Then she fills out a bill for you which you take up to the cash desk. You pay, and you’re given a number and you can go sit down. Then when your order is ready, the ‘now serving’ sign shows your number and you go get your food. I know this doesn’t sound very exciting as we have restaurants like this (ah…the old DQ). But this is in every food court restaurant! All of them (except the buffets)! There’s no 40-person line-ups for a burger while you wait for some teenager to figure out how to make a combo. But here’s the best part: you get real plates and cutlery!!! Real ones! And no one steals them, no one breaks them. But of course, they still must be savages down here. Clearly, the more advanced you are, the more you should trash the environment. Sigh.

2 - CD listening booths. You’re probably saying ‘well hell, we have those here, what’s the big deal’? But we don’t have booths like this. Fnac is the major department store that’s responsible for books, music, and entertainment here; it’s a great store. Anyway, scattered around the music section are various little listening booths. For the longest time I couldn’t figure out how to use them though. There were no images to tell you what CD was playing, no drive to put a disc in, nothing. Then I realized what the deal was. Attached to the booth was a scanner, which I thought was just for prices. You simply scan the UPC symbol and voila – THE ENTIRE FRICKIN’ CD PLAYS FOR YOU!!!! They have EVERY SINGLE CD IN THE STORE scanned into their computer system. As soon as I discovered this I ran around the store like a madman trying to find the most obscure albums I could to see if they worked. And they did. Every single one of them.

If this isn’t the penultimate sign of modernity and civility then I just don’t know what is.

Of course there’s all that poverty and homelessness stuff around too. But let’s just forget about that for now.

The international language of George Foreman.

2006-05-08T19:27:00.000-07:00

Portuguese is a weird language. Really freakin’ weird. The best description I heard was that it’s like a drunken Irish person speaking Spanish. I can do the drunken Irish person alright if needed, but since I don’t speak Spanish, I thought I’d be SOL. Fortunately, however, it turns out that all those years of French immersion actually were worth it, as I now am proud to say I can actually speak Portuguese. Not well, of course, but enough so that I’m not mistaken for those icky Americans.

Oh yeah, here’s a good joke a Brazilian told me: What do you call someone who speaks three languages? Polylingual. What do you call someone who speaks two languages? Bilingual. What do you call someone who speaks one language? American. Hah.

Anyway, my point was that should you choose to visit Brazil without any knowledge of Portuguese, you can rest easy knowing that there is one method of food preparation that you will always be able to describe. If you should ever desire something grilled, simply utter these magic words: George Foreman. Magically, at that moment you will have forged an indelible bond between yourself and your host. EVERY FREAKIN’ person here has one! And the intensity of the competition between the Foreman Grill and knock offs is quite something to behold! You may not get an ounce of recognition for mentioning an American movie star’s name, but watch with amazement the instantaneous excitement created when you utter George Foreman’s name!

The streets of Brazil are no place for a girl like me...

2006-05-04T07:45:00.000-07:00

I don't mean this metaphorically. I mean literally. The goddam streets here are dangerous for anyone remotely klutzy in nature. And of course, I'm one of the biggest klutzes around. I actually cannot now count how many times I've wiped out completely, let alone just tripped. And one of those journeys to the ground smacked me right down on my knee and laid me out for 3 days. Bleh.

If I venture out onto the streets to avoid the massive chasms and dips that are the sidewalks, I face a whole other minefield. I haven't at all been worried about my safety crime-wise here, it's the traffic that terrifies me! Drivers are absolutely bonkers here. It's little wonder they have the one of the highest rates of traffic injuries in the world. And you know that tendency we all have to turn around and look when you hear a car honk? Well if you do that here you'll end up with a nasty case of whiplash - horns are used more frequently than turning signals.

The basic rule for a pedestrians is:
If you think you have the right of way, you don't. Ever. Never.

Okay. I need to shop now. Sorry for yet again a lengthy delay in my blogging. I've been knocked out by a stupid viral lungey/throat thingey. Meh.

Ahhh Brazil…primary exports: tank tops and underwear (eh...and probably asbestos too).

2006-04-16T11:29:00.002-07:00

Were you in such a hurry this morning that you forgot to put on a bra and panties? Never fear! Because only in Brazil can you buy lingerie at your subway station! Yes, these people seem to have a real infatuation with underwear. Not that I’m complaining as I’ve always had a bit of a fetish for fancy lingerie. However I feel for these poor women with regards to their sizing options. Sizes here come only in SMLXL. No cup sizes, no rib cage sizes, nothing.

So if it seems as though a disproportionate amount of Brazilian women’s boobs are falling out of their shirts/bras, it’s because they are. Or it might also be because of the growing acceptability of plastic surgery to enhance the chestal region (haven’t they heard of Bloussant here???).

lunatic parents...

2006-04-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

Puppies!!!

2006-04-12T10:05:00.000-07:00

I

miss my puppies. I miss them very very much. And I miss them more because of all the sweet dogs here. Vira-latas, as street dogs and ‘SPCA specials’ are called here, abound. And contrary to popular belief, they’re actually not very dangerous at all. Most of them just wander around the city looking for food and shade. If they come up to you it’s quite alright to pet them. Unless they’re rabid of course, but if you can’t tell they’re rabid from all the twitching and foam coming from their mouths then you probably shouldn’t be petting any dogs at all.

My enlightenment with regards to these screatures came via a wonderful woman named Renatta who runs a rescue/help organization out of Embu (outside of Sao Paulo). She rescues a ton of them and adopts them out – I’d say close to the thousands so far. She helps people to get them spayed and neutered. And she tries to give medical care to the vira-latas that are homeless. And boy does she put her money where her mouth is: she has 26 dogs!!!

Yes, yes, I know you’re probably all thinking she’s like one of those crazy cat ladies who lives in a pile of kitty litter and garbage. But I was shocked at her normality and general funkiness. Indeed, she and her husband have the most amazing house that was featured in an architectural magazine here. And I saw photos of all the dogs living happily together, really amazing! And we were fretting about 3 dogs.

Of course, to keep things running she has to do a ton of fundraising. Part of this is done by selling t-shirts. Thanks to everyone so far who ordered one through me. And if anyone else would like one, just let me know within the next week or so!

The dogs in that one photo must have lunatic owners who would dress them up like that. Yes...they're mine...

The other photos are some of the ones I’ve encountered in my wanderings…so cute!!!

2006-03-29T08:20:00.000-07:00

So for all my flamenco friends out there I thought I'd give you the scoop on what I'm doing in that realm.

I managed to find this great studio here, run by Ana Esmeralda.
http://www.anaesmeralda.com.br/

Ana Esmeralda, who some of you probably know, was in the movie El Amor Brujo, along with several other Spanish flamenco films. She moved here ages ago and opened up this school. She's pretty much ended up being the center of the flamenco world in Sao Paulo.

So I'm taking classes twice a week, at least whenever I can make it - my schedule and brain are both kind of screwey at the moment. I'm never entirely sure who teaches when I go, sometimes it's Ana, and sometimes it's another great girl named Roberta. Either way, it's great. The dancers are super friendly and stay after class to help me learn routines they've been working on. Next week I start a castanet class.

The only down side is I'm routinely getting my ass kicked for old bad habits I need to break. The whole 'not moving my hips' thing and that stupid 'seated position', both of which were taught to me by the "Evil that shall remain nameless." You know who I'm talking about. Thank god for you, Jane, for getting me started on breaking those habits!!

Anyway, it's been a groovy opportunity.

Engels-to-go

2006-03-21T08:14:00.000-07:00

Okay, I realize I'm not the best at blogging. But it's been largely due to less than optimal internet access. I'll try to improve!

They have a very interesting type of vending machine here. You know how in Japan, you could get beer, underwear, whatever? Well here, they have books vending machines. Everything from guides to worker's rights, sensual massage, and sodoku. And the prices are excellent. I had looked at them a few times, but didn’t really see anything I was interested in; until today. Today I peered into one of the machines and found Friedrich Engels’ (of Marx & Engels, of course) “On the Origin of Family, Private Property, and the State.” IN A VENDING MACHINE!!!! For $2!! So of course, I *had* to get it. It comes all nicely wrapped in plastic and when you take it out, included is a little wrapping gift bag (in case you’re giving your favourite commie a present) and a penny (since all the prices end with 0.99).

Now, if I can just get through "Hello Kitty Goes to School" in Portuguese, I may actually be able to move on to this book...

Viva Batata!

2006-02-22T15:32:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's taken me a while to update this thing. It's taking me a little while to adapt to the heat. And I'm so spoiled that I can't get used to not having internet access in my room! After my first week here I've encountered a great many interesting and head-tilting things, but I thought I'd share this one with you first...

Now this being a country with strong political/social movements, a history of repression, uprisings and dictatorships, I figured that I would probably see some pretty inflammatory graffiti around town, but *nothing* could prepare me for what I saw just down the street from me on the walls of the tennis school. I’ve attached a photo of it so you can see for yourself. Now folks, brace yourselves now as I tell you what batata means in English…drumroll please…it means…are you ready….POTATO!!!! The battlecry for Mr. Potato Head!

More later...sleepy time now.

Windblown in Chicago

2006-02-10T16:59:00.000-07:00

So this is supposed to be a blog about Brazil, but I'm not there yet. Sitting in the dank and depressing Chicago Airport killing time before the 13 hour flight, yeehaw! So I thought I'd finally set this baby up. But I do feel the need to backtrack a bit.

Wow...what a way to remember Edmonton! I simply cannot say enough about the Paco Pena dance company. Quite possibly the best show of anything I've seen, ever! And what a wonderful group of people too. I feel so priveleged to have had the chance to learn even just a wee bit from them. Here's some pics of the after-party on Wednesday. And check out Angel's site at www.angelflamenco.com
And as promised, I will post all the rest of the photos, and even video, for the other flamenco gals.

Smoochies to you all - next stop Sao Paulo!