news flickers

New teeth ‘could soon be grown’


Living teeth are better for gums than false ones

Technology to grow replacement teeth could mean the end of dentures.

Scientists at King’s College London have been awarded £500,000 to help them develop human teeth from stem cells.

The company Odontis, set up by the college, hopes to develop its research for tests on humans within two years after successful research on mice.

we are all innocent

I’ve been listening to music today that was popluar when I was in highschool. How sobering to realize that it was so long ago. It’s a peculiar sort of feeling to be listening to songs that were huge five years ago. All the lyrics come rushing back to me with memories that I haven’t looked at in forever and a day. They make me think of writing and drawing on Garths ceiling and walking with Megan on the Seawall while she talked about Alex and how in love they were.

I can still sing along to Our Lady Peace and that makes me think of a girl from school who I rediscovered in the rave scene. She was living with Frankie and Johnathan and suddenly I realized just how warped that apartment was to spend time in. Ozzie laughing on the couch with Onyx and the sheer amount of chemicals. I slept on that couch the day after I met Triton for the second time. We’d failed in our hunt for the Full Moon Party after an SCA banquet. I met Crow there, and Aveloc and Mahliqua. Little Jeff had brought me, then discarded me at the table. I thought Triton was a small savior. Saving me from staying behind with all these people I wasn’t comfortable with, and the temptation of the man who kissed me so very well.

*click* Then another one of thier songs comes on and I remember walking through Douglas Park in the dark with Bryan and Marissa and being jealous that he’d managed to go to the concert. Being uncertain of my standing, because he was a liar, a brother, had a girlfriend, and yet wanted me to spend the dark with him. Marissa unconcerned with everything, just happy to be with us and stoned. *click*

around my room just thinking, thinking it was gone

I have more pictures I keep meaning to share. An awake time like now seems as good as any. I keep wondering about the mutability of self. In particular, how it is that someone could know you just as well after a period of soulchanging years as when they knew you then, in the before. Wouldn’t I be a stranger? How is it possible to fall back in? How did that happen? How did I know?

I saw that in your eyes too.

triptych of love leaving

thursday evening: elegant daisychain

Sophie and I parted ways at Broadway and Commercial. I walked away without a backward glance, though I admit I thought about it. Not for any reason but habit, so I would like to break the aute-response. I had my ghodmums evening to go to. I would finally after almost a year hear the final version of the DMQ.  I have a picture I took of her reading it to me on my birthday. Not entirely appropriate, but apropos. I decided to bring her elegant flowers that reflected her grace in words. The flower stall at the Skytrain station has an odd mix of exotic flowers which I took full advantage of. I settled on two, then paid the woman to step aside so that I may arrange them and wrap them in ribbon as I desired them. Plum and violet blue and beautiful desirable. Exactly as I wished I could be.

On the train I was useful to strangers, one of which I think wanted to know me. She was pretty in a feminine tomboy sort of way, with a green knitted bra-top and baggy cutoff corduroys. I wanted to make earrings for her. Little men that would hang from her ears like the fellow I used to have dangle. Not as lost in fantasy as I was in anticipation, I left at my stop and proceeded to Lick with a quick drop by for batteries. I arrived first. No-one else was there, nor would be for another twenty minutes. The girls a the door spent a few minutes trying out stamps on me for later, but I decided that I would rather sit in the sun at the terraform park than sit in the dark with strangers. I had a book to read and pictures to sort. They didn’t seem to offer anything, all lost in pre-event conversation.

In the park I continually checked my watch, seeing if enough time had passed yet. It was like time had pulled like old fashioned taffy. It would snap at any moment. I would have waited that ‘just’ too long and missed something in my eagerness. I finally left after twenty minutes of eating cold stones. I could say my reasons have to do with physics, but it’s more likely the heat of fusion burning skin.  There was that fear what happens when you are alone and going to a strange land. I sat by the empty fireplace the first fifteen minutes after re-arriving because I couldn’t see my table in the dark. I had hoped to see them as they came in, but I found them when the Lady of the Evening got up to greet an old friend. Everyone I expected to know there were sitting fancy already. Spike and Elaine, and the fetching new roomate all arrived together. Being welcomed and knowing I belonged was a wonderful sensation. A slipping into place. When the raffle began we were the loudest table.

The show officially started with a slender girl on the low stage with chocolate cake.  We missed the very beginnig, as there was no fan-fare or call for attention. It was brought to my attention in time for her to peel on the condom and insert herself into the cake. It wasn’t particularly interesting, but the concept was amusing, as was the first half of the congress. She orgasmed excitedly with a spurting can of spray whipping cream. Then it went on too long as she proceeded to do it all over again. The conversation picked up again and it was a relief when she cleaned up. Cake was handed out, and I must admit – if I had known the girl onstage, I would have been for more likely to accept a mauled piece.

Silva was the first recitation. The DMQ: the Do Me Queen. “People keep passing this off as a piece of fiction”. It was a winsome piece, full of humour and honesty. My favorite passage is in the first page of text, the first ten minutes of speech. “I’d push needles through her nipples and then wrap one end of a piece of heavy string around the needles and the other end around my wrist. The I’d fuck her with my fist; hard and deep, until the blood from her pierced breasts mixed together on her belly with my sweat.  I liked that. I liked everything I did to her. I really, really, liked to fuck her. I could bury my arm inside her halfway to my elbow – and, when I did, like my friend Rita, from the elbow down, I was home.” Her piece was about love and where it comes from. About relationships and how they sometimes just don’t work. She made us laugh. Everyone that night made us laugh. Everyone had something with joyfulness in it. Everyone was a perfect performer.

We didn’t hang out much afterwards. We were all tired and all of us had beds to go to. I walked them to the Van, taking pictures as I did so. I also accidently stole her script, for which I hope she’ll forgive me. I was glad to see her. Amused to be her daughter for the evening.  Happy to know that I’ve been healing.

now I have a perfect answer

You Are an Indifferent Ex

You’re not one of those girls who thinks about her exes – or even remembers them
“Love ’em and Leave ’em” is your motto. And your break ups tend to be a clean break.
It’s a nice strategy to have, and guys appreciate your total lack of emotional baggage.
But just a little reminder: it is okay to remember the good parts of your past, even with exes.

What Kind of Ex Are You? Take This Quiz 🙂

Singing at the top of my lungs and being caught by the landlord…

Skankboy just reminded me of Whitetown – Your Woman. Such exquisite timing!

Already got it off kazaa, but oh yes. Nostalgia time! WOO! That song, and Blur – Girls and Boys, annnd… Beck – Loser, Lisa Loeb – Stay, and… wow. Likely something by Nirvana, and that I got My Haircut by a JumboJet song, and the 4a.m. one… There was a period where fun bouncy music like those were popular. Even stupid stuff like Sebastion – Why won’t you sleep with me. Or that dorky Pony song.

It’s like a soundtrack to highschool. The good parts. Ther very rare good ones.

The day after I run into the very rare good person.