Thursday, October 26, 2006

by the cahones

My friend Cole died on Oct 10 in Thailand in a train crash of some sort. We worked together at the MG. He trained me in the ways of the restaurant, tequila shots and kissing as many boys as possible at Celebrites (him not me, well maybe me). He covered for me when my illicit in-house romance started with the boy. He encouraged me to dance on the bar and reset tables in less than 60 seconds. He was 21 the last time I saw him and grabbed life by the balls better than anyone I ever knew. I'll miss the small part I played in his life and the future parts he'd play in mine during his visits back to Vancouver (he moved to Edmonton last year).

Today I also received a link to this story. Kevin Tillman was a NFLer who walked from a million or so dollar contract to join the US Army (2002). He died in Afghanistan in 2004 (friendly fire). The whole Habeas Corpus bill is only started to sink in now. It's not settling in very well.

Regina Spektor's helping me get through this day. I'm probably a million years behind on this band wagon, but I have found my new chanteuse. Sorry Feist. Sorry Joni. Sorry Joanna.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

good burn

I am so sore today I can barely stand up and sit down without yelps of pain or holding on to something to use as a hand railing. I wish my bathroom was handicapped one and that my bed was really high so I could just fall on it. Don't even ask how I'm going to get up from typing this. But it's a good kind of burn.

Last night Mel, Lindsay and I took a free boxing lesson at the Scotia Bank Dance Centre. It was awesome to feel my heart pumping and to sweat like man. There was a lot of interval training - holding super hard poses like the plank for 1-2 minutes and then punching and ducking drills. The regulars were really nice to us. They gave us tips and the instructor was super positive. We were all doofuses. I couldn't even get Mohammed Ali's "Punch like a butterfly, sting like a bee" (or however it goes) down pat. Halfway through the class I tried to sprint to the bathroom for somewater and my legs almost gave out on me. It was like the scene in "Best in Show" when Catherine O'Hara gibbles her knee. Remember how rubbery her legs were? That was me.

So fun. So painful. So bloody out of shape.

I think I'll go again.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

from Brooklyn with love

I recently received a copy of "Smart women finish rich" in the mail. I'm going to dive into it once I'm finished another financial planning book (ironic that now I'm making less moola, all the sudden managing it is way more interesting). A former Vancouver resident and Joseph party smoocher penned an interesting article in today's globe and mail. Apparently richer, more educated women are more likely to experience orgasm than not-so-wealthy ladies lacking post-secondary education....

Last night Miss E and I went to see TV on the Radio. It's the first time I've ever been to a completely sold out show at the Commodore. We were stage left for the first part of the show and then moved up to the balcony and then down behind the sound guy for the finale. I'm no music reviewer but I appreciated the crowd's enthusiasm for the band. Vancouver is notorious for its deadbeat crowds. There were about 1000 people crushing the actualy dance floor part of the ballroom, smushed up against each other to watch the lead singer do his thing. By half way through there was some dancing going on. A particularly tree-like fellow's hands were raised for most of the show evangelically worshipping the boys from Brooklyn.

If the $29 tix value was measured in gesticulations I'd say we got our money's worth. Lead singer Tunde Adebimpe's hands have a choreography of their own - part hip hop, part gospel and all motion. I only own their older album. I was super stoked that the show was about half older material and half new. Because I wasn't as familiar with "Return to Cookie Mountain", I was a little lost sometimes. But, being an appreciator of movement and people, I found enough to gawk at while Miss E sang the words to TVOTR's newer offerings.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

visiting Kigali at the Granville 7

In the September issue of Glamour magazine there was an article that was titled something like: "10 things girls do that guys just don't understand". One of them was watching movies that they know will make them cry. Bingo. That was me today.

But it wasn't only me. I went to go see A Sunday in Kigali (Un dimanche a Kigali for all you bilingual folks). I think they should rename it to: "Love in the time of Genocide" or "Being Quebecois in Rwanda 1994: Witnessing the world watching genocide and being fucking frustrated by everyone's inaction." That last title could be the name of a couple films.

Anyways it was beautiful and mostly disturbing. My favourite part was watching a snippy Canadian consulate worker get hers (not death, no) and the beautiful Rwandan actors. There were parts of the movie where the ENTIRE theatre was crying, including the middle aged guy behind me. I swear he was using the collar of my shirt as tissue. The director was there for questions afterwards but I had to boot it out of there and have a good sob in the bathroom before I went back into the beautifully sunny day on our comfy little Granville Street.