In an extraordinarily unexpected twist, I’m going to Minneapolis tomorrow as an extra tag-along driver to help facilitate someone else’s trip. I was only asked about it today. We leave in under four hours. I think I’m packed, but I’m not entirely sure. I was at a house party earlier that had a livingroom DJ who wore a pillow on his head. I was there until three in the morning. It kind of tired me out.
I had to look it up to make sure, but Inktea Cole is there, as is David S, and after some restless facebook posting, I now have a place to stay, a borrow bike, and Stranger-Here Karen is going to drive up from Madison to meet me. I can’t even remotely pretend this is a responsible financial decision, but Chris A. decided on a whim to help fund my trip, “shine on your crazy diamond”, enough that I’ll be able to eat along the way if I’m careful, so in spite of my unemployment, in spite of my complete and total lack of any kind of income or next month’s rent, I’m going.
I’ve been coming back to life. Embracing the weird is just part of that equation.
Oh, also.. I sort of accidently dyed my hair green today. By sort of, I mean completely, so much so that I look like a dryad. Um, whoops?
I took Lung and Nicole to a film shoot at the Burrard Street secret stairs last week, where we took a ton of pictures. The sound inside was beautiful, like the ocean on a rainy day, but heard through a megaphone, crackling and thrumming and incredibly comforting, and the light was so perfect it was almost unreal. I’ll post more pictures later, as I get to them.
Oh, also today: Lung had his wallet pinched from a cafe while we were out, which was later returned with money absent, (“found” by the thief), and I gave him a haircut on my porch, which sounds like a euphemism, but isn’t.
And Derek and Alexandra welcomed their new, perfect baby daughter, Eris Nikitia Chauran, into the world today, which I had absolutely zero to do with, but wanted to mention because they made a new human and that’s freaking NEAT.
Lung left Vancouver this week for Montreal to pack up his life and move it back here by driving it cross country. I miss him when he’s gone, though it’s fairly often, given how much he gets to travel, so I’m fairly used to it. As a fond farewell, we went out to Whytecliff park for a picnic of some strawberries and my best sandwiches, havarti, smoked turkey, tomatoe, and lettuce on finnish loaf with mayonnaise, mustard, and black pepper. We talked about sex and where we want to live and what improbable things we might do for incredible gobs of money. I spotted a seal in the water, initially mistaking it for a dog, and took a 365 shot I don’t mind too much. Mostly, though, it was just nice to spend time outside, somewhere we both like. It was a good goodbye.
HIVE3 was as entertaining as ever, yet in spite of the pushy blow up doll horror movie incident, the near death experience, the cupcake rape-baby incest kiss, and the skunk suicide therapy, the most epic thing I witnessed this weekend was in my apartment: late yesterday afternoon, Lung manfully inflicted a brilliant and surpassingly brave four minute lapdance upon Victoria, my very surprised mother.
Lung’s astonishing strip-tease started mildly, with slow hip swings and mild gyration, but gained momentum as clothes came off, until he was throwing pants at my head and using his belt to better capture my mother, finally finishing with a shocking yet shamefully victorous Full Monty flourish of his genitals.
No word yet on if he left on his socks.