extermination

we had our rooms fumigated today: with less than one hours notice and all of our affairs strewn about in bags (or otherwise). with pot left openly on our tables. with cats abounding. with all of us at our respective jobs. we were told things were going to get laden with toxic chemicals and to have our shit ready. I power-walked a thirty minute distance in thirteen (my bike is in the lesbian shop). upon arriving things went into bags, boxes, dressers. cats went into separate rooms. pot was put away. speed and organization as if there was a bomb about to drop. I hope the poison fucking works; the camel's back has broken.

all this did little to help the remainder of a minor hangover from last nights festivities; I attended a very hip - but not hipster - event coordinated by the 37e festival nouveau cinema. (if any of you recall, last years party had rob v & I the only ones dancing to the dj from we are wolves because everyone was far too cinematically elite) c'etait chouette.

I caught myself doing a little funny thing in preparation for the party; after agonizing for a good ten minutes about what to wear to blend IN with the 'coolest of the cool' in montreal, I found myself geared OUT in manatobania by the end of it, because it was all that left me feeling fidget-less and comfortable. save a pair of brand new holt renfrew suede shoes I found at frippe-prix, I donned tony chestnut, paramix, and a little bison pin. later on, ashamedly, I was fashion blogged by some fag from london and even LATER someone offered me a hundred dollars for my coat. hah.

mais serieusement, event planning in quebec is something else entirely: (an acquaintance of mine is the PR lady who I would have given these accolades but she happens to be a bit stuck up.) the dj was awesome, projected images of dancers (probably ripped from you tube?) danced all over the bar/party area and there was some SERIOUS interactive art/visual media going on in another part of the venue. I witnessed amazing cinematography last night. coincidentally, my once-upon-a-girls-gone-wild-weekend fling was showing his work, which was stunning and made the everything very personal. I knew people. I spoke entirely in french - even talking politics. I felt affirmed. smug. cool. but I didn't do cocaine, thank you very much.


I love this graphic. I love it. every time I see it in the street I want to howl at the moon in solidarity.

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l'autre nouvelles: pas vraiment. a four-day weekend leaving me hot in anticipation for my first 'streeter' (are you planning to vote? why or why not?) britt & bretts housewarming. a thanksgiving dinner with janelle ma belle. finishing a history paper two weeks before its deadline. life in the fast lane, as per usual. I am thankful. I feel like the pendulum is finally swinging in the right direction. finally.