2001-04-29 || 10:00 p.m.

Busy week-end

Hi there diary dear,

I'm writing this entry into my sketchbook in the basement of Royal Vale School, surrounded by thespians running about in varying stages of undress. Sister asked me to help out with dressing one of the Principals, but as soon as I arrived, I got dragooned into doing curtains and costume repairs as well. I have a very busy week coming up, it seems... It also seems that the Well Known Costume Designer (who has done stuff for the CBC and Salter Street, among other reputable venues) is the brother of my landlord.

I was intorduced to Billy Bragg in a fairly interesting fashion (and one which sums up my entire college life quite nicely, in fact): I was sitting in the student newspaper office, doing some layout with the student radio station blaring, when suddelny the DJ announced that the next song was for [insert cf's real name here], who was probably working hard in the Plant office. I called to find out who had requested it for me, and the DJ (who was a stranger to me) said, 'aw, I just thought that the song would be your left-wing bag is all.' He was right. The Song was 'Accident Waiting to Happen.' I've never looked back.

I've also never been able to shed that quasi fame or infamy, or whatever it is. Best Friend and I hosted a HUGE House Party last night for his and another guy's birthday. I wasn't *supposed* to know any of the other guy's guests. Of course, I was to go through what has become a painfully commonplce experience for me: 'Oh, so *you're* [insert cf's real name here].' or 'It's nice to finally put a face to a name.'

I don't do anything all that special, but I seem to at least peripherally know the *entire* anglo Montr�al community.

Granted, a lot of us do...

At the end of the HUGE House Party, there were only Best Friend, Roomie 2, and I left, along with the other birthday boy, and an enchanting woman by the name of Meredith, who had stayed to help clean up some of the HUGE House Party Mess. At one point, she took out a little pot of blowing bubble soap, and began blowing bubbles. Her technique was perfect, and she had bubbles streaming through the air around us. the curve of her neck and the gentleness of her breath, the bubbles floating everywhere, it was just like watching magick drift before me. I was totally mesmerised. I could have watched her blow bubbles all night, and I was a bit dissapointed when she left.

The day before, I had gone out for a night of utter debauchery with three fine Gothic Chicks from Toronto. Well, one was actually from Switzerland, but she'd been living in Toronto for a year. Her reaction to Toronto was that she decided to return to Switzerland in September, though she told me at least twice that if she'd ended up in Montr�al, she'd probably not be going back.

But once again, I peripherally knew the one Gothic Chick who'd been originally Montr�alaise, and sure enough, when I went to meet the Goth Chicks for lunch in Chinatown the next day (hours before the HUGE House Party), I knew the other guy who was meeting them from C�gep.

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Gotta go: The Well Known Costume Designer just asked me if I wanted to work with him and his partner on another project. I have to go throw up then gleefully accept his offer.

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Addendum:
Um, I think I've fixed the Netscrape problem with this page. Anyone who's cool enough to be accessing my page from a Unix or Linux variant should be able to see things fine. Sorry about the mess.

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I will be turning 29 on the 21st of May. I will be celebrating this birthday on the following Saturday (which, I believe, is the 26th) due to the fact that Sister and I will be getting back from a show in Haskell late on the 20th. Everyone who can make it to Montr�al is absolutely invited. E-mail me, babycakes...





||Gods save the Queen,
||cf

back || forth

older shite

One last little note... - 09.21.2006

de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006

Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006

More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006

Scary stuff - 05.25.2006



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