my relationship with pink isn’t a friendly one

Behind the scenes of the As Real As It Gets… “sweded” photoshop advertising poster for

The raspberry red we bought from Home Depot dried a violent pink on the wall, the pink of a small girl’s pink velvet stirrup pants in the 80’s, even after seven coats. I swore upon seeing it the next morning, having forgotten overnight how appallingly bright it turned out. Gah. My eyes. Anyone’s eyes! Amazing what a bit of colour will do. Oi. Change the whole place, it does. Yes. Into a bad television set for brain damaged teenagers, all ironic and post-hateful and too cheerful for words.

I’m very glad we discovered this before we painted more than one space with it, though not so glad that we didn’t start with the spare room wall and not the kitchen. Small mercies duking it out with slightly bigger regrets. Who will win? News at eleven.

To rectify this horrible mistake, David and I spent part of our Remembrance Day with our heads bowed in the heavy crush of DIY sawdust yuppies at Home Depot. We had the paint retinted darker and bought a tiny tin of sinfully delicious red that we’re going to pour in before painting the next, more hopeful, coat. A final gasp for our currently blinding kitchen. Apparently Nicole is going to be over again today while I’m at work, hanging out with David who’s sick today, and painting. If that doesn’t work, I’m going to spraypaint it matte black, out of adorable girlish spite.

you must be kidding.. great. that’s just great.

Listening to Christine‘s music in her beautiful St. Denis studio flat, the balcony door open, the sun shining down, I can’t figure out why it’s imperative we leave, and yet we must. Katie‘s wedding is this Saturday, and then October looms, and with it, the need for paying rent. We are quick blooming flowers here, due to vanish any minute. It makes me sad, in a far off sort of way, because I know I’m happier here, it’s far more beautiful, living expenses are seriously cheaper, (rent is how much??!?!??), and yet, I know I’m stuck existing awhile more in Vancouver.

Ah well. Once crisis at a time. As is, possibly only I will be going to the wedding, while David stays behind in Montreal, as Katie’s offer of a place to stay fell through at the very last minute. That way we only have to pay for one ticket, he can stay in the land of light and architecture with my friends who are now his friends as well, and I can brave the unexpected knocking on doors for a couch alone, which should drastically improve my chances. I’ve a proven track record of finding overnight lodging with friendly strangers in Toronto. David, not so much. Then, hypothetically, after the wedding, I come straight back, and we stay in Montreal until it’s time to go down to Toronto for Nuit Blanche, and our inevitable bus-ride home.

It all depends if I can find a place to stay at all. The ticket(s) have to be bought today, and yet, as of this afternoon, we still have nowhere. If, in a few hours, we still haven’t made contact with an available couch, I’m not sure what else we could do, except to split up and reconnect in a few days. Two people stranded in Toronto with luggage is a far more depressing picture than just me alone with an over-night bag.

FYI: Van-flakiness alert!

Seemingly at the Very Last Minute, Boca Del Lupo has pulled out from their show at FUSE tonight. As a result, I am not going.

Nor is Duncan and Gerald couldn’t make it anyway. So there. (FUSE will be notably less full of tall people by their absence). Sorry if anyone else was planning on finding me there. Instead, Silva and I are going to go to Locus through Michael‘s good graces. (Which should cheer him up too).

I’ll very likely be available for other shenanigans later in the evening. If you want to get ahold of me, I suggest leaving a message either here or on my phone. Rumour says there’s a house-party.