Crocodile Tears

I find displays of public grief really.. repulsive. I'm not sure what about it affect me so, but it seems disgusting to me.
The past few weeks the news has been saturated with school shootings, kidnappings and murders, criscrossing the country from Montreal to Kansas - uniting people in their gaudy grief. It seems like barely hours go by when the flowers and teddy bears and poems start to show up, lit by Virgin Mary candles, dripping and sputtering.
Perhaps its that all of these things just seem to muffle the grief, such a pure and awful and clean feeling - the cellophane and stuffed animals simply packing the wound, not healing but creating gangrenous areas of a community that should just be hacked off. Areas that become avoided, or planted with plaqued pines or maples.
It seems to me always impossible that so many people have anything to do with such sites of malice and accident and plottting. I understand it may be the human spirit, to share in the grief, the pain - but why does it have to be done so publicly, in the eye of the media?
Perhaps there is something lost in the translation of grief to those who have not encountered it. Perhaps it's just an objective eye.

Two Concerts, Three Movies and an Art Show Later...

Here I am. So, briefly, a montage.

1) Suicide Girls - You know, whenever I go to the strippers (which is as often as I make good coffee), I'm vaguely underwhelmed. No real artistry, no real dancing, no really pretty cool girls. As discussed with Laura yesterday, I have no moral objection, there is nothing I catagorically object to in their career - I think it's just the aesthetics. I don't generally like the blond, tanned snarky types on a regular basis, what makes me think I would like them half nude and crawling up and down a pole? I thought I objected.. but really I just think they're trashy.

The Suicide Girls, a group of goth/punk/alternative girls, put on an amazing travelling burlesque show. It's pretty much exactly what you'd want to see at the peelers - smiling, well choreographed girls in great outfits really enjoying entertaining a group of 700 guys and 15 girls. I mean, apart from the entertainment part of the evening, it was actually really sexy and fun and wow.. Shea and I both agreed we would like to take them all home, put them in the spare bedroom and have them dance in the living room on a regular basis. They had a particular dancer for every particular sub-genre of guy out there - the geek, the punk, the goth, the raver.. (who did a nearly impossible to imagine strip with a hoola hoop spinning at all times..) So I think I've figured it out. If everyone who objected to strippers simply found the appropriate stripper for them (ie - blond, starchy pearled republican women in beige or navy heels for the upper crust) then I don't think we'd have a problem. It's all a question of aesthetics, not morals. Now, to dress up abortion..

2) Leeroy Stagger and the Sinking Hearts - Ok. Perhaps saying that we went to this show was a bit of a misnomer. 2 opening bands on a wednesday night later.. well, we heard the opening cords of Leeroy and figured that we had the album and better things to do. Including look terribly posh and smoke cigars. Which is what we did most of the evening, between a plate of killer nachos and tonnes of Strongbow. Going out with Ian is a blast.. at least I have somebody just as caustic as I am. The poor dude with million patches on his jacket circa two months in 1984 had no idea the things that were said about him. Leeroy.. we'll catch you next time... Given that you're on before 1am on a school night. Geez. The nerve.

3) "Lucky Number Slevin" - Despite protestations on numerous fronts, I really enjoyed this movie. And particularily.. the wallpaper. Each apartment and hallway has FABULOUS wallpaper. *laugh* I liked the dialogue, loved the actors, and thought it was just really entertaining. Oh, the Kansas City Shuffle. How I love you.

4) "Thank You For Smoking" - On a far more consensual note, everyone and their dog seemed to like this one. Based on the main character, a spin doctor for big tobacco, it's an interesting commentary on questioning what we hear and what we believe. I thought it was witty and very a pros pos for the times. Big names in bit parts that work add a little bit of pizzaz, since I think the main character is a nobody actor who did a great job.

5) S2 took me to the Baroque exhibit at the Alberta Art Gallery... it was so wonderful! Just a small collection of El Greco, Rembrant etc - really wonderful. Minus the piercing voiced woman explaing the Angels Message of Death to Mary. Who initially said it was the Angel Telling Mary She's Pretty. *sigh* Then, as a surprise, was taken to the Hardware Grill for champagne and dessert (white chocolate creme brule and lemon meringue tart.. oh lord..). It was a lovely night. Just. Lovely.

Alright - a minor catch up. I know it's not much, but S1. over on her blog is kicking mine, and I'm the one constantly wingeing about her not blogging.. *laugh* So um.. yeah. Whoops. More soon!

Sundays Thrill Me.

Well, Goats Do Roam on Saturdays

Had a glass of wine and bought a bicycle with Stephen Crane today, something that I truly didn't expect would happen. (That a) I'd have a glass of wine with Stephen, b)it would be a south african red that I'd enjoy and c) that the bicycle I've been fantasizing about in my mind would appear in it's entirety at Red Bike).

So now I have a new bicycle, and a hankering for another bottle of red. And a friend, that I didn't think I'd see... and am so happy that I did.

He's changed so much. It should be demarcated in life - BI, AI.. Before injury, and After injury. He's kinder and softer and still so witty and smart. Humble might be a word we both choke on, but.. better.. might be agreeable. I quite look forward to seeing him again.

Bras, Martinis and Liberals. What a Party.

There is nothing quiet like a push-up bra to make a girl feel.. just.. better. And I tell you, though my orbs need little to no pushing, and I now look startlingly at times like Kilroy - well. It's nice. As Sabrina pointed out, a new bra, ergo a new set, can give you almost an entirely new wardrobe.

I have to say, I've had a pretty lovely week, even outside of the new breasts. The media support I'm/we're getting for our "Responsible Drinking" events in the month of October has been outstanding, I have had two dinners with good friends, my hair has even been behaving. Ian had been here to prop me up on sad nights, and Tyler's been all too ready with martini's and home made pasta dinners (the boy has converted me to red-sauce), Sabrina helps with retail therapy and tattoo advice and a feeling of comraderie I forgot existed, and.. well, c'mon, Colin points out inadvertently that it could be worse -hell, I could be a 5$ Liberal.

Things - are good.

Now Alanis, This Might Be Ironic.

Ok. So Pope makes not so benign comment about Muslims being the source of the worlds violence and ills. Muslims riot, protest. Muslims kill nun. Pope doesn't apologize.

I don't know quite what to say.

Future Lonely

There's that point, when it ends, where you go forward in your head. And you take these little slices out of your memories, memories that you haven't quite lived yet.. Where you were both going for Christmas, picking up the kids, climbing mountains. And you take these slivers, slivers of the ones of you love/d, out, and you just have these holes. Holes where somebody was going to hold your hand, holes in the shapes of laughter and love. And I've been doing that. And despite the emotional comparisons to swiss cheese... Well, I just feel lonely. And not, surprisingly, holy.

The Jamaican Beers are Bigger than the French. Surprise.

The new beer - Boris. The Alsace Flask. Drinks like Kirin, but tiny and tasty, and apparently the preffered beer of rebels worldwide.

OMG.

In 10 days, Poshlust Inc. turns 2 years old. Wow. I think there should be a party. This is officially my longest relationship.

In the Interest of Plausible Deniability, or Full Disclosure.. Into the Fray.

Or the void. Nevertheless, I'm dancing closer to it, the light, the fray, the void, the bar. Ladies and Gentleman of the internet, readers dear, in slow motion to the tune of Morcheeba's "The Sea" , I became single on Wednesday. Hello again.

12 Hours Ago

I was barefoot on the table of a bar that will remain unamed singing Johnny Cash. If you look beneath the bar goo, these feet are smiling.

Poshlust's Top Ten Ways to be Hip this Fall

1. Order Short at Starbucks. - You didn't know about the short size? Thats why it's so hip. Smaller than Tall, it's the perfect shot of Pumpkin Spice Latte, Vanilla Latte or whatever your heart desires. Hiply.
2. Bring back the double kiss - That's right - anglophiles, assholes and the couth alike (I hear even the Swiss are doing it) - the welcome, hello, and goodbye all in one go. Plus you get to sample their perfume if you position your nose right. Kiss to your left, then your right. And for god's sake, forgo the air kiss. This is a great way to get close. Don't we all miss close?
3. Smoke More Cigars - Is there a lot sexier than women and cigars? Especially women in jeans. Or maybe that's just me.
   
4. Feed people. - The ones that don't need to be fed. Cook, entertain. In the smallest appartment, in the largest loft, feed them and ply them with booze and insist that they leave their shoes on and dance to the music, preferably jazz. And make them laugh, and eat too much.
   
5. Be Mysteriously Single - Attractive, engaging.. Is s/he or isn't s/he? Why wouldn't they be? But are they? Just don't carry a knife or wear your lovers blood around your neck. That's obviously single.
   
6. Stay up late. - Because it's just so much better in the witching hour. Even if you're the witch.
   
7. D.I.Y. - Pie, scarves, hair dye - do it yourself. Or find somebody who can. Because bartering is under rated.
8. Drink Your Grasshopper with a Lime - Lemons get all the fun, and the french people. And lime, lime just works. And you get to say "Grasshopper with a lime." C'mon.
9. Take Back Cheese Shops - Not just for the faint of heart (ie - those with pacemakers) but for the twirty crowd (thats the twenty to thirties). Eat your weight in Mango Ginger Stilton and wash it back with Apricat Beer (simultaneously supporting your D.I.Y. local brewery) and thank god that you still look ok in stripes sans colostomy bag.
10. Smile. Seriously. It opens doors.
    

Is this Gramatically Correct?

Or does it matter, 'cause it's just so damn hip...

Pressure Points

My delinquency has appeared to have reached an all time high. In between bouts of flu and cold, anxiety and a couple apple martinis, I've managed to vomit, cough, sweat and gulp my way through the past few weeks. And not blog.

I'm trying to keep up, but the pressure is.. so much right now. I took a night off and could barely contain the itchy fingers from e-mail, from text books, from the phone, from... anything. I feel like an egg, or an aquaduct, all the pressure on one point, if it slips, I'll crack and crumble.

It's been raining for two days. All I want is to crawl under the covers with tea and books, and leave my window open, and be cold and warm and alone and paced and even and happy. Instead, I have French.

Unlit

I just tried to light my electric stove. With a match. I need some sleep.

2 Weeks.

18 new Residence Assistants, 2 weeks, no sleep, lots of beer, a couple tears, scraped knuckles, bruised egos, late nights at starbucks, paper cuts, Brahma beer, lots of wine, Queen, too much work, too little pay, police hats, counsellor hats, human knots, Dollarama, barbeques, so many wraps, the Wal-Mart Effect, bad food, worse hair, no showers, no free time, new friends, old friends, 690 students in one day, delerium, accidents, packages, tears and tears and stoic fathers, nerves and more coffee and too little water, sore feet, happy souls, twinkling eyes and more tomorrow.