Dear Internet-Diary,
I am sorry that I have been awol for the past week, but it is because I have been gallivanting about most of Southern Ontario in cowboy boots. Here are some tangentially related tales selected from my assorted adventures.
1. Remember that time in the X-Files movie when Scully taught herself how to do stem cell surgery by looking it up in Google? Wouldn’t it have been better if Bowie had just appeared and taught her how to do it instead? Answer: YES.
2. Oh, hey remember that time we went to the Gladstone for 50′s Night, only there was no 50′s Night, so we went to the Dance Cave for Angst Night, only there was no Angst Night, so we went to the Green Room for samosas, only there were no samosas. But at least we sampled the pickled eggs at the Communist’s Daughter. And the light of Bowie shone in my heart.
3. The Hillside Festival of Songs and Samosas! Fairly amazing. My Hillside experience is best summed up by the following statement, made on the phone to the lovely Ms. Emily, when she asked “how are you?”:
“I am at Hillside. I am pretty drunk. I am wearing an X-Files-themed t-shirt that I painted myself during breakfast mostly using glitter, and on my head is a hat that I have fashioned out of twigs and leaves.”
Other highlights include: sitting in the mud and almost crying during the Vinyl Cafe because Stuart McLean is so wonderful, attending several concerts that might best be described as “a rave in a tent at 1:00 in the afternoon,” that pretty great song I wrote about the X-Files movie (“Mulder and Scully are my Best Friends/Walter Skinner Saves the Day”) in the car while lost on the way to Hillside, the annual matching henna tattoos (X-Files themed), complaining (“It’s raining! There are hippies! Broken Social Scene has too many members, how to they possibly coordinate band practice! That X-Files movie was so depressing! Camping is horrible! Why didn’t I wear a bra today!”), The Burning Hell – a band with electric ukuleles and a song that includes the line “Love – it’s like a newborn child. Interesting at first, pedestrian after a while,” going undercover as a hippie in the aforementioned twig/leaf hat, boxwine, oh, and actually finding Hillside because those crafty hippies like to hide their festivals far, far, away from the grocery store.
Despite the complaining and the hippies, it was, of course, really wonderful. The only thing that would have made Hillside better would have been Bowie, and we indicated as much on our Hillside survey, on which Tanya and I wrote:
“Hillside could be greatly improved by the inclusion of Bowie. Examples: There could be a Bowie stage, where Bowie songs are played; a Bowie workshop, where Bowie songs are taught; and obviously Bowie would headline.”
4. Dance Cave…why had I never before experienced your Monday nights? Why had I never experienced Pyjama Wearing Man? Or Emotional Face Man? Or Lady Who Looked Like a Mom and Sang Really Passionately to Girls Just Wanna Have Fun But Got the Words Wrong? Or Praying Mantis Ballerina Dancing Lady? Who subsequently met a Praying Mantis Ballerina Dancing Man, who subsequently disappeared, probably because Praying Mantis Ballerina Dancing Lady mated with him and then ate him? I love you, Dance Cave 80′s Night. Things were kind of worrisome at first because they were playing “You Shook Me All Night Long,” but then we fixed things. How did we fix things? I shall tell you: by requesting Bowie.
5. Casa Loma! Amy and I went to Casa Loma. And it was wonderful. And kind of horrible, because it is falling apart and is silly. And there were no knights or unicorns. But! I bet that if Bowie lived in Toronto, he would live in Casa Loma.
6. Here is how shit went down: after dinner in Kensington I wanted a coffee so we went across the road to the hipster espresso bar/record store. And…I don’t even know. I don’t know what was going on. The barista was really cute. And he was just…staring into my eyes. So intensely. And I was like, “Can I get a double americano?” and he was like, “sure,” and again with the eye contact. And then he was like “and how are you today?” and I was like “oh, pretty good,” but, in fact, I was not ok, I was completely confused because of the continual intense eye contact, and then when he said, “and how do you take your americano?” I almost completely lost my cool and all I could think was “why is he asking me this? Why? We put our own milk and sugar in our coffee where I come from! Why is he asking me this? Tell him you like it black! Then he’ll think you’re cool and edgy.” So I said I like it black, which is a lie, because in real life I like a tiny bit of sugar in my americano, and then he was like “I really love your glasses.” And I said thanks, and shot him my best charming, lady-about-town smile as I left. And then we went to the park across the street where a man was pretending to be a snake. And…that americano was so amazing and delicious and didn’t need any sugar at all.
If only Bowie had been there. He would have whispered “Never be afraid to do something completely outrageous!” and I would have jumped over the counter and made out with that barista then and there. Instead, all I can do is search for him in the Missed Connections.
7. Maybe the X-Files movie would have been less depressing if the Russian doctors (all of them) had been played by Bowie.
(David Bowie.)
I’m glad you clarified David Bowie; it’s an important distinction
This blog entry should be written in calligraphy on a scroll and housed in a mahogany box bearing the inscription “Bowie.”
I have been suffering lately from an absence of pink girlie drinks.
Just saying.
Would that there were such a mahogany box. Perhaps I shall craft one myself, out of twigs and leaves, since I appear to be capable of creating magical objects out of such media.
I generally prefer my drinks on the butch side (I like to taste the alcohol in my alcohol) but we are totally on for drinks when I get back.