the next incarnation

August 21, 22, 23
Bad Taste Cyberlesque: Close Encounters of the Kinky Kind.

a photoblog

I am going to break this off in chunks. starting with the most recent trip to NYC of course, then moving back-back-backwards in time when I have the intervals at my disposal. The most elder of fotos stuck in the innards of my camera until now were taken at approximately this time last year and will probably be the very last post of photos entitled avant winnipeg (again) but hopefully it won't take a month.

So, What can you say about New York City? Besides being one of the most congested, polluted places on earth and packed to the titties with tourists, there are some sites to see.

Since it was my mother and sisters first time in the big apple, I had little choice but to meander with them and hit up the 'touristy' things that keep people flocking. On our second day we walked to the boatyard piers to take a ferry trip around the island when we realized: oh shit, this is MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND. ... the horny sailors hadn't tipped us off ...

Looming in the distance as we walked towards the water sat enormous army fighter boats with about 1000 tourists taking pictures of them.






including me.

I bit my bottom lip, ignored the service men in white who were eyeing me and my sister (who, according to at LEAST 3 people a day, looks like Britney Spears?!) and got into line. I have never seen more fanny packs, nor 'I heart NY' logos in one line in my life, but so be it.

We cruised around the island (as our boatman mentioned money more times than I could count on both hands) to Staten Island and the Statue of Liberty, who we learned is a gift from the French. (Freedom Fries moment? Anyone?)






a couple hours and a neck-burn later, we were strolling the streets of the city. they, feeling far more cosmopolitan than I, I finding bits and pieces of inspiration along our trails. I think that being to New York before had taken a little bit of excitement and sense of adventure from me (living in harlem projects and one missed subway to brooklyn hardened me like that). But every once in awhile I found something. Mostly it was buildings upon buildings or artwork upon buildings. Here is a random sampling.














In retrospect I feel like a bit of a dick. Notice any pictures of the women I was traveling with? Nada. Bad Daughter.

Also, I feel like a dick because I was absolutely one of those types of people in an art gallery in the MoMA. I couldn't help it; I had never experienced so many classics so close to me. Save the billions of other people exhibiting at the same time, I had a little love affair with most of the art and couldn't help but want to remember them...

so I suck, but...











This, essentially, is where we were staying... ugh...





and finally, what would a trip to NYC be without a late-night tv taping??



we saw him. & the musical guests?? BEASTIE BOYS (& some random dave cook american a-hole... er... idol... )

SO that's that. Other, non-NYC photos to follow...

bisoux. LB

Manhattan to MTL

I’m baaaack. Not to steal a noteworthy entrance from another blogging bird, but it seems applicable. I have survived another round of the big apple and I couldn’t be happier to have left manhattan.

It feels good to be home. It feels good to be home. It feels good to be home. Dick, I don’t know how you do it (though I do believe I may have bumped into Ryan?) It is too much for me. Too much motion, too much eating, too much shopping, too much humanity! Too much! To be fair, we were staying a stones throw from times square – which is mental – but after about day three I just couldn’t take it!

Almost certainly I am not the first person to declare a disdain for the infamous ‘I heart NY’ but I’m gonna do it again: NYC is not for me. Today I made myself a shirt by printing OVER one of those iconic logos and added three little letters – wpg – to remind myself that the next time I need a vacation I should go where I belong. Where I do not feel overwhelmed or swallowed. Where I can see skies instead of haze and know my bearings and the ones around me. next stop is definitely my darling Winnipeg. I don’t care how small of an apple she is.

I am both refreshed and exhausted in these times. The hill of things to do is growing taller by the minute as we approach our June issue and a fat camp flaked on my feature & I, and there are serious correspondences with a person on the other side of the globe looming in the distance.

Oh, and Stuart Ross hasn't gotten back to me yet. (fuck?)
--- --- ---

So I am back and my world has changed. I forgot how lofty and brilliant my apartment is in the summer. I forgot how it feels to MANAGE. I forgot how it feels to sex&spoon in just the right position. But mostly, I forgot how small we actually are where we are. Swimming amongst millions will do that.

AND, I am full of Voisinage news! this cartier’s gonna be a BIT smaller in the coming months, since best friends will be moving in with best friends and live a two minute walk from my front door. It feels priceless. Welcome to French Winnipeg.

But as one comes, another goes. I feel it necessary to give a public adieu to my darling Red: I can’t even believe the story of this friendship we have crafted. I am so grateful. good LUCK in Winnipeg this summer (calzone upon my return) and all the endeavors to follow in Ottawa. God knows that only two hours away can never stop our man-eating power!

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Finally, I was going to upload some fotos and allow those who linger on to amuse themselves with random NY photography and all that was found inspiring (& some random acts of tourism), but I have misplaced my cable.

… I think the Frenchman ate it.

So here is all there is at the moment. Taken at the godly hour of six in the morning en route from mtl.



Until the cable comes around, bisoux.

oh ps: pour la Reine du Reves! J’ai eu und reve malade:

I was working on Canada day at Paramix and it was nuts. People everywhere, faces painted, the whole fucking ball of wax. To my distaste, Candy presented me a tray of meat to be basted, grilled and served. Though thinking it completely odd I complied, and took the tray down the streets of Osborne, along the streets of Corydon, up McMillan, down Grosvenor, around my town. Caught up in a New-York-style frenzy of people in motion – without seeing a soul I knew. On top of that, I fully blew my responsibility of heating meat and showed up at para and was scolded! SO disappointed in uncooked meat!

This whole thing made me completely stressed out as I realized I was actually in New York and waiting for the sun to rise, another day to start and my mother and sister to wake.

… weird.

to janelle

will we be remembered as the women without shirts?

my three

I now live in a new apartment.

well, technically it is the same, fixed address - but it has taken on another form. we (he) pulled down the wall to make our space and I feel like I could give ballet lessons. Calking, screwing, sweeping, planning, placing, arranging, moving from one side of the place to the other has energized this space and the ones who live here. I am never moving out.

I now have a new job.

well, technically it is the same, but it is now fully my responsibility. I am on a power-trip to say the least and the place has never been more organized because of it; I wear it like a badge. its the two year mark and it feels rewarding. not just a store but my store.

I now have a new wardrobe.

well, technically it isn't 'new' but frippe-prix has been good to me. lauren ralph lauren. holt. made in france. the good thing is that I care more for the garments than the tags, but the tags are classics. who needs commercial retail? (oh wait, my place!)


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they (being my mom) say things come in threes. this is my three. It's like the karma gods have lined me up lately, though I fear admitting this will reverse the goodness flowing in my direction. conversely they (being my mom and family) have had three little blows in the last while, which makes me feel guilty for all the good vibes on the island.

specifically, my family dog died yesterday. I was talking to my baby bro on the phone & he gave me the news. sucks. I loved that huge dog. we ran hard.

--- as I was typing, the cat came & did this:








its crazy how animals can sometimes know how to make you feel better.

---

Life is full and good. Life is full and good. Life is full and good.

& my roommate made cheesecake,
Loco.

live young and prosper

I feel sorry that I deleted the picture I took before running down the spiral iron staircases and out to town. It was pretty epic in afterthought, if only because my style was inspired by the birthday girl: gels, dress, dickie, dangling earring. We went chez elle to eat cupcakes and then to Graham's place for a crazy house music dance party with 'wild planet' projected onto the wall of his loft. we danced our faces off, needless to say, escaping outside intermediately - past the bare legs and jocks (anglophones) to storefronts, stoops and bangon bathrooms in order to cool down our dripping bodies and cherish each other independently from the raging party above our heads. the cops were called to the cocaine party even higher above our heads & stumbled upon us 200 sweaty, dancing twentysomethings by fluke - overreacting just a BIT with what could have been a swat team and a fleet of vans. sensing a need to leave, we waltzed between idling cabs and cop cars to la belle province across the street to satisfy a greasy tooth, where I proceeded to call my server "a dick" and propel even more madness behind the counter where he flips his fries. After the fat, he called me "a dick" as we walked out. my copilot flipped him the bird. fearless verbal prowess has been too much to hold in, lately. I am a dick.

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that being said, trekkies really don't dig it when you talk through their movie. even IF it is horribly sexist, with a weird oedipal-hero-cycle complex. a woman approached me after the show and, instead of asking me out, she gave me a lecture on 'public' versus 'private' space and conversation. she was nice about it, so I wasn't a complete dick, but I did end the conversation with a 'live long and prosper' hand signal, so you get the picture.

kirk and spock should just make out already.

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& speaking of which...

FAGGITY ASS FRIDAYS on FRIDAY!

Dick, you should be here...

dinner parties

sunday: karaoke colin
monday: twilight vampire haters
tuesday: brit, brett and kilo
wednesday: graham and my new best friend
thursday: a bowl with bang-on brit
friday: wanna make dinner?

--- --- --- Food preparation.

the communal buying of groceries, splurging on honey or the expensive extra-firm tofu. the orchestration of hands and bodies around a table, a cutting board, the sink. the gulp of wine as it slips from its bottle into awaiting glasses or punchbowls - depending upon the availability of fruit. the wash, chop, sizzle, steam, bake in all its divine fluidity, floating around the warm conversation and the pink of our cheeks. the brush of hand, gentle collision of bodies, pivoting hips, stepping feet. we all clumsily move with the slow jazz playing beyond the foreground. the time it takes for things to prepare, to flavour, to find themselves on plates is enjoyed almost as much as the food itself.

--- --- on mange


hopefully this week has set a precedent for a summer to be filled with good food and friends.

with the desire to play host/guest forever, Loco

ps: dick

thanks for the bottle of vodka.
you have no idea what it has done for my hostess capabilities.
I miss you. move here already.

Loco

pouce, index, majeur, auriculaire

Life is ----

---- greener.

I waltzed around a foreign part of the city (the suburbs) with an old roommate and lover. I love(d) her. She was off to Europe to blaze trails and accumulate languages, but had a seven hour layaway in la belle. So we jumped a bus from the airport and let it take us to somewhere neither of us had been before It felt like we were neither here nor there but it was still familiar - akin to lounging as we did before, above urban waves in the village. me, feeling free. her, forever working. always meeting at the end of the day in the half-way point of our apartment - the kitchen- to discuss the varying levels of drama in my love life and what she would be when she grew up (I was going to be an educator). It was funny to feel that way again, together. people can recall feeling for me like the tune of a song. melody + lyrics = nostalgia and the same can be said about the people who I just do not see as often anymore, but whom I still love dearly.

she remarked, numerous times, how the grass was so much greener here. I looked around at the herb on the ground, the leaves pushing their way out into the sun, and imagined the brown/yellow straw-like splendor or manitoba grass in the springtime.

The parable came to mind... you know the one... things are always greener.... and I said it, even if it is cliché.

this incident has presented itself and made me wonder. with ongoing news of people coming and going, jumping ship and heading east, or west, or anywhere else, I often want to expect what experiences will come. is it really any better here or there or anywhere? what are we running from, or to?

----- even more surprising.

we 514 bangers are really changing it up. two of my bests/bosses are heading back to van city, so (with mild trepidation over replacements) we partied like you wouldn't believe. Certain images came fluttering to memory today while I did what we all do for a living... stomping heels on hardwood floors to fight for our right to party, walking onto the terrasse to be greeted by my new boss - who happens to be from winnipeg - and who I happen to have known since grade ten, drinking foamily from a keg that was found on the front walk of malcoms apartment building and ended up in the bathtub, riding home wildly in the rain to wake up, rinse, repeat.

fuck real jobs and occupations. I feel very lucky to work/have worked with my friends. It makes the drudgery of any 9-5 so. much. sweeter.


------ filled with song and dance

karaoke party on a sunday. a personal invite from the DJ turned into a crazy night at club date, which ended on a high-note with someone asking me if Janelle and I are a couple while we shared some cheese curds... (did we say no?? don't recall...)

so now, post-karaoke pitchers, two glorious days off lay in front of me and the forecast calls for sunny days. The aforementioned life-partner & I spent today lazing and drinking the quebec version of a slurpee (not as good), and curing our hangovers with vitamin D on the front terasse.


---- lazy in a good way.

spending hours drinking coffee and strolling blogs? half-pathetic, half-priceless. J'(heart) passive aggressive notes.