oinkment

enough sleep
2005-03-07— Posted by: allegra

http://www.yodelcourse.com/level1/level1.html

Saw this, thought of you.

Pic is of Flotilla Debarge, a well known NY trans-entertainer who is being sued by Star Jones for, like, parodying her. Anybody who knows anything about Star Jones would be of the considered opinion that you cannot parody someone like her. As far as I know it is not possible to bring the administration of Star Jones into disrepute by doing anything, as she’s already got that in a major headlock. My question to you is, could you mistake this entertainer for Star Jones? Please feel free to google Star Jones’ image and compare for yourself. Then, pretend you just had a full body-on with a Dementor and eat some chocolate. Or, you can just skip the whole thing and say “I’m allergic to chocolate, ya silly cow – and why should I care about this anyway?”

enough sleep
2005-03-07— Posted by: allegra

A fly has emerged from my oinkment. Okay, that was a bit obscure, even for me. I was just wanting to make a philosophical comment about how one can be in the finest mood which ever issued from the cerebral cortex of any human creature, and still something will come along and … you know … not be optimal. And you have to stop and deal with it, and next thing you know, your mood, always a variable commodity, has up and split and left you as you were, a screeching crone with breath that could knock a vulture off an outhouse. Or a pile of corpses. I certainly don’t think of myself in those bad crone like terms. Nope, I remember those pictures I have, and I am frozen in time. As I have commented in previous blogs (here I am being recursive), I had artistic black and white pictures of myself taken (nude… but fairly figleafed) when I was 22. I have to tell you, of all of the impulsive, and on the face of it, dopey, things I’ve done in my life, that doesn’t even make the list.

Yeah, I was right to delete this next line. No way to make it salubrious, even when it was no longer libellous.

You see, I can look at those pictures, and the compelling weight of damned near a quarter century comes a-peeling off. The girl in those pictures – and she does look like a girl to me – felt things more or less the same way I do. She certainly had the same enthusiasms, without the finesse. I don’t feel much different from her. My responsibilities, and my responses to things, are different. I have a much more respectful sense of my own best interests than I did then (what’s that line, about good judgement coming from bad decisions?) and I’m much more respectful of the feelings of others than I used to be, mostly because I now actually believe that other people do have feelings. Took a very long time to get there. Paul might argue (although he’d wake up in hospital) that I’m still not there. On the other hand these days he’s being somewhat more appreciative of me, and demonstrating it in a fashion I find difficult to dislike.

I will deal with this latest hull breach with the same verve and skill I brought to the last one, and hope that as I apply my rear end to the hole, in the effort to prevent the vacuum of space from destroying my life, that my tender heinie will not have been sacrificed in vain.

The short version: I am feeling insecure. My personal info is all over the internet. I am experiencing nausea, annoyance and waves of panic. And I asked for it, or so I believe, so I cannot complain, except in the most lameassed way. I can only thank a merciful Providence that those goddamned pictures haven’t excaped. Frankly, they aren’t that good…. they’re just imbued with a sentiment which would be damaged by commerce.

I wanted to blog about those 4 RCMP who were killed, but I will limit myself to making three points:

There are times when you call in a tactical squad. We spend a lot of money, as taxpayers, training and arming folks in tactical squads.

There will be an investigation, and there will be a coverup. The incompetence of the investigation will be no match for the incompetence of the coverup, and we will probably find out more than we want to about how the next level in the chain of command ignored common sense in the hurry to get the boys some real action.

Whether or not the Mounties take a suitable profit from this carnage will be debatable, but if I was a Mountie myself I’d be going Holy Crap and reading everything I could get my hands on about dealing with gunfire in confined spaces, since it’s obvious my boss will be too busy fielding pointed telephone calls from various media to actually be of any assistance when the trigger is pulled. Maybe, just maybe, somebody will develop a checklist, like they have in aviation, that tells you that when you’re dealing with a known cop-hater gun nut ex-felon with a pack of slavering Dobermans who’s chased a bailiff off his property so recently that the death threats are still ringing in his ears, that you take along body armor, at least ten guys, and something punchier than a 12 gauge. Or maybe that’s just me, and I was reading the description wrong. I will be very interested to talk to the gun toting men of my acquaintance about this tragedy, as they are wise and wily, and their counsel is always worth hearing.

up in the air

enough sleep
2005-03-06— Posted by: allegra

Very pleasant gathering at Peggy& Tom’s filled with salmon-y goodness last night. I debuted Lifeline for everybody except Tom, who had heard it during the mishigass with getting the motorcycle onto the truck (and then Shales said they wouldn’t take it, and then they fixed it but didn’t return the frikkin wheel! John was about fit to be tied, in a calm, John like way).

I debuted the song I posted yesterday (yes… sappy don’t even BEGIN to cover it) and at one point Ben played something that matched perfectly with the mando part for ANOTHER song I am working up (‘Sophia’ which I posted part of earlier) and the two instruments together sounded bloody amazing. The rest of the evening we did hymns, including Lady of the Seasons Laughter which I’ve never had much of a jones for.

Brooke, may the Goddess protect and discipline her as required, has requested that I hand over the Lymond books. Okay, kid, don’t say I didn’t warn you. And no freaking spoilers. I want to hop up and down and say “Don’t get too attached to so and so, Dunnett kills ’em. And you’re never going to guess who ends up marrying him. And guess what? aaaaaahhhhh shaddddddapp!” The bad part is OF COURSE that Brooke is now going to figure out where I stole all my best lines from. One piping hot The Game of Kings, coming up. Ignore the frikkin cover, until they were reissued in the 90’s they all sucked a mop.

Off today to buy another set of headphones for the Lyra I bought myself (which Katie promptly preempted, like I couldn’t see that coming) because between Keith and Kate the headphones got blown up, still don’t have a straight story about that, and maybe some flash memory since I actually have some money!!! and I should pick up my King Cobb Steelie album. Life is like really okay right now.

Paul came home from working midnights and while I was sitting at the computer gave me a kiss on the back of the neck that made all the hairs on my body (with which I am, alas, liberally endowed) stand up. I am feeling so entirely drenched in romance today – okay, it’s salad oil, but who’s being specific – that I feel like I’m walking into a Pender Island sunset, all molten pink and orange and grey. A big shout out to Mike and Tori…. I still feel kinda boneless and un-whiny from the soak on Friday night.

I have what I consider a totally hilarious anecdote about my current mental state, which is somewhere between Gershwin and the worst excesses of Bollywood, but I can’t post it. It does involve dancing.

Margaret Cho, in her FABULOUS interview with Bust magazine lo these many years ago (and she’s coming to town, who’s goin’ with me?) said that she identified with Judy Garland, in that Judy couldn’t work unless she had a crush. But what if you have multiple crushes on multiple people? Well then you work very very hard, I guess. (Criminy, I’m writing songs as fast as my poor mandolin-creased fingees can manage it….!)

These next 4 lines deleted….

I know it won’t last. That’s why I’m enjoying it so much.

Keith is doing pushups. I feel tired now, and I just got up.

Katie has decided she wants a bass. I was standing outside Neil Douglas guitars yesterday after getting pins and strings and picks, and she said “That’s the axe I want” and I closed in to get a better view and frikkin near broke my nose when I tried to put it through the window. Katie screamed “I do that all the time!” and burst out laughing, while flopping her arms around. Glad I could be of service. And I’m in such a good mood all I could do was laugh.

Oh and I’m supposed to buy my beautiful, good natured daughter shoes today. I don’t think they are going to be Phat Farm, but I can deny her nothing when she gets ‘that look’ on her face.

kiddofspeed reference

enough sleep
2005-03-05— Posted by: allegra

If I could write a song for you

There’d be so much I couldn’t say

You’re not supposed to have a clue

Because it’s easier that way

your smile is like a present

your frown can wreck my day

But I’ll pretend this song’s for someone else

Because it’s easier that way

Chorus

I tell myself I shouldn’t play I spy

look at you when you walk by

Not supposed to give you the eye

But how can I stop myself

Sometimes I think you always knew

You are having fun at my expense

But then I’d have to say it’s true

I love it when it’s this intense

your voice makes me feel dreamy

your laugh makes a sunny day

But I’ll pretend this song’s for someone else

Because it’s easier that way

Chorus

Bridge

If I spent more time with you I’d have to finally get real

And I’d have to do some work and not just coast on how I feel

Second verse again and then fade….

Isn’t it bizarre? And the tune is something like a cross between Burt Bacharach/Hal David and the Indigo Girls. Brian C just looked at me when I said this and asked me if he and Jim E should come over to my place to do an intervention.

Much beer and nachos consumed at the golf course last night. We hadn’t done that in ages and ages. Paul showed up all happy and with his Apocalypse dodging face on, so the rest of the evening would have been great even if it hadn’t been so great, if you know what I mean. And Jim A was there! I was so happy to see him I thought my heart would burst. We had a nice long Buffychat and they looked at the pix I have of theplacewhereIwork which were taken in 97 98 and 99. Very funny, especially when you look at the married couples who weren’t married yet, and the people who were sleeping together, etc etc. Regular little Peyton Place, but with fewer tranquillizers…. And Paul got to talk airplanes with Rob of Nine, and I ministered to the needy (gave neck rubs – only Chari reciprocated!!!) and then we dropped Rob of Nine off and headed up the road to Mike’s place.

Mike is the most hopeless romantic of any man I know personally (part of his ocean of charm) and this is what he did for their six month anniversary. Pay attention, Mom, this part’s great. He got her flowers. Yeah, whatever. Then he fed her a really nice Japanese meal. Very standard issue. And THEN when she got back to his place, there’s a 1930’s issue Remington typewriter sitting on the kitchen table for her, which completely functions and is squeaky clean and is a frikkin model of industrial design. Unbelievably sexy (black of COURSE) and wonderful. Tori burst into tears, she was so happy, and I would have done much the same.

So as soon as I get through the door at their place I pull out my CD of Lifeline (reaction has been favourable to say the least, so far) and Mike of course was very happy I was happy about it, seeing as how it was his recommendation earlier this week that put me onto Paul W.

Then we soaked for a long time. Left at quarter after three.

I love Mike’s cat. Winky is so much nicer now that she doesn’t have to live with dogs. And she’s pretty, the prettiest tabby I think I’ve ever seen.

Every tree in Vancouver is having sex right now, so I am itchier and crabbier than usual.

Eniwess I think you can tell that I am in a good mood, and in all respects my evening was completely perfect; Tori is forgiven for forgetting the moose. And that’s another story.

This morning the boys (really I should say men, except that men are more boring than boys) including Tom L are going to toss a motorcycle into the back of John’s boss’s van so it can be fixed. And when that’s over I’m going to pick up the ecstatic sounding Katie from her boyfriend’s place (yup, another night away, isn’t it AWFUL?) and go get her boyfriend guitar strings. I’d get him a roofing axe too, but apparently he doesn’t want me to do that, and that too is a long story.

Hang in there Peter T, it can get better.

Oh, the song is actually for Katie and Daxus, and Katie has heard it and she likes it. And the reason I need a trumpet player is because the opening notes I hear in trumpet. I think getting a good recording of this will be hard, read expensive.

I light a candle for Heather’s eye, and her dad too.

I light a candle of joy and thanksgiving for Paul’s deliverance, and from ducking that darned apocalypse again.

I light a candle for Katie’s voice on the phone this morning.

one up one down
2005-03-05— Posted by: allegra

To my annoyance, Rob of Nine pointed out that the woman who motorcycled through Chernobyl is a fraud. Damnyou. I really enjoyed the kiddofspeed pictures, but it turns out they were bogus.

On the plus side, Courtney Love actually makes sense. http://dir.salon.com/tech/feature/2000/06/14/love/index.html

My bonus was over $400 (after the government’s excision) and I’m spending it all on recording – not, as Jim E. said, on another stick of gum (nearly typed bum).

The Tapioca song will be posted here soon, I promise, as soon as I bribe the God Like Glen to put it someplace on my site. Oh, I guess I have to record it first.

Anybody know a decent trumpet player who can play by ear?

Hot tub tonight. Beer first. Mehappy.

throw me a lifeline

recording
2005-03-04— Posted by: allegra

Thrilled out of my mind to report that I recorded with Paul W. last night in his studio/apartment on Fraser, and OH MY HEAVENS. In three hours we got a demo song, which includes a voice track, two mando tracks, one acoustic guitar track, one slide guitar track (oooo tasty!), one bass track and some delightful sixties style organ – and this includes the effing and effing about as well as the rough mix at the end. Holy crap! I thought Gomi was fast – and he is! – but Paul W, despite being almost as relaxed to work with, moves with BLINDING SPEED (he uses Cubase). We recorded Lifeline and it came out GREAT. Yes, I need to re-record the vocal track, but I don’t care. Big big BIG shout out to Mike for telling me about him and an ecstatic candle of joy for Paul W for being totally amazing to work with and to Paul for ponying up the cash. Pic is from one of Paul W.’s CD covers. Heard some of his stuff last night, I was impressed as hell. Crowded evening, wot?

workshop

enough sleep
2005-03-03— Posted by: allegra

Today I think I’ll wear purple to the apocalypse, although it does involve ironing, something I usually try to avoid. Big shout out to my mom and Tom and Peggy for the spiritual and practical support during this exceedingly trying time.

Tried to hook up with Rob and Lexi last night to give them the money they are owed but was not successful. The Write from the Heart workshop was interesting and got me thinking about a lot of things.

Watching “Once More, With Feeling” as many times as I have now has shaken a few things loose. I ended up writing an extremely poppy (adult contemporary, may the Holy Virgin intercede on my behalf) and somewhat jazz inflected tune. It’s like being possessed. I can’t do anything else until it’s done, and then there’s DJD in my mental background – he’s always there, he never bloody goes away, it’s like being haunted – asking me sternly where the bridge to the song is. Or maybe not sternly. Maybe quizzically, or ‘in the spirit of earnest enquiry’. So although I hate bridges (I do, I’m opposed to them as being unnecessary) I had to write one anyway. That was Monday, or maybe Tuesday, and I was at work when the loa took me. (Didn’t take long, thank heaven). Then I texted Katie with the first 4 lines – no room for more – and finally, after writing the song on Tuesday, got to sing it for her last night (because I sort of wrote it for her and Daxus). It’s very cute and I didn’t do any of the usual “aren’t I good with words and look at what heroic efforts I made to ensure my rhyme schemes aren’t boring and the words match the melody perfectly and everything scans even when you aren’t singing it” crap that I normally pull when I’m writing lyrics – tried to make it so simple that it COULD have been written by somebody else. I believe I was successful. And off to the studio tonight. Ha ha, he has a Larrivee. Take that.

Crawford Slug

bye mr. damon
2005-03-02— Posted by: allegra

nmazca.com/blog has ceased operations. I sent him an email saying how very sad I was, and now I am forced to reconsider this blog – is this something I should be doing?

enough sleep
2005-03-02— Posted by: allegra

Today I’m wearing hunter green to the Apocalypse. Suits my colouring, and my eyes *are* green. Got to be well dressed for the end of the world, as we know it, even if I do feel fine.

My King Cobb Steelie CD came in but I haven’t picked it up yet.

I am going back into the recording studio (doesn’t that sound fancy? but it’s in some guy’s apartment, so forget the notion I’m awash in cash) on Thursday night. Mike found him for me, after Gomi turned out to be unavailable until after the Apocalypse. A quick review of my songs brought up about 6 that I really should record, although I’ll be lucky to get one done on Thursday. Then Friday I wanted to go to the Fark party at the Jolly Taxpayer (I really did) but I promised Keith faithfully that there would be no Fark parties for me until AFTER he hit the age of majority. Then we can go get smashed together. We’ve already picked out the bar we’re going to go get drunk in when he turns 19; Steamworks. Considering that Keith’s tolerance for alcohol, never great, has completely evaporated over the last six months, I figure it will be a cheerfully cheap date, even if I have to bring a bucket. And these days, if I drink 6 beers over the course of an evening my ability to get my eyes to track before noon the next day is severely truncated.

Friday the hot tob will be yodelling my name in tight four part harmony. Yesh. This sentence, about how tense I am, would probably not win me any new fans, so I am performing a preemptive product recall. Anyway, I’m looking forward to a soak.

My mother has gone completely insane (I can just imagine her jerking to attention as she reads this) because she wishes to commission a family portrait done in the style of Edward Gorey. For those of you who are Gorey fans, you are dying of jealousy that your mother doesn’t do things like that; the rest of you are contemplating different versions of wtf? I am trying to convey that even if the Apocalypse is coming, I am still trying wring the last drops of fun from the sanitarily moistened towelette of life. Actually I don’t feel too bad. Really.

Lymond
2005-03-02— Posted by: allegra

This won’t mean anything to anybody but me. This is the crest of an imaginary character. Picture somebody smarter (and a better horseman) than Giles, tougher than Buffy, prettier than Spike, more polyglot than Willow, more musically gifted than Oz and with more difficult family dynamics than Xander. That’s Lymond. The all time, all round, best hero ever. I love him more than words can say. Francis Crawford of Lymond and Sevigny, may he live forever.

black and white

bitch, moan, whine, wheeze
2005-03-01— Posted by: allegra

I’m dressing up for the Apocalypse again. Patterned green stretch velvet. Think I’ll skip the makeup though. Having put it on, I always forget to take it off and wake up feeling… a little more concrete, so to speak (discretely) than usual. Hey, my eyes are stuck shut!

Raining, thank goodness. It’s been so dry the entire month of February that the trees and plants are probably really happy about the change in the weather.

I really wish I could talk about work yesterday, but instead I’ll mention that lunch was excellent, and free. Thanks Mario.

Honest to Murgatroyd, my life is like – oh I don’t know, let’s find the cheesiest metaphor possible and play it like a marlin. You know those games of skill, where you are trying to get a little steel ball from the beginning to the end, without dropping it in a hole, by tilting the playing field in two planes? Well; my life is like that, except that it’s three dimensional, and the ball is me, and the holes are randomly placed and move without warning, and real and Disney elephants pogo through the playing field, and I’m still expected to do laundry and go to work and perform my wifely duties and write stories and buy the kids’ bus passes and cut hair and shop for food and cook dinner while I am dodging those goddamned holes…. I should just drop the ‘hole’ thing right now. Yesh.

Paul says complainers never get better. Well maybe I’m not PLANNING on getting better. I’m going to croak anyway, (eventually, one hastens to hope) I may as well go out whining. Stoicism is for the unimaginative.

enough sleep
2005-03-01— Posted by: allegra

Goldarn this stupid apocalypse! I got dressed up (black, of course), dyed my hair (Garnier number 60, on sale for 5 bucks) and I even wore makeup, but it just didn’t come through, AGAIN. I mean really. I know exactly what is happening. I’ll be standing mostly naked in the laundry room cursing the people who never clean out the freaking lint trap… and THEN it will happen. I would really prefer to be fully dressed for the event, but I am beginning to think I’m not going to get it my way.

Today is the first day I made it home on the bus in full daylight. Also, there are magnolias in bloom. Our crocuses came up two weeks early. Something has dug an immense hole on the portion of the lawn adjacent to our house which the city owns. Very strange. Looks like it could have been humans, but why?

Came home and found both of the kids here, both feeling very out of sorts and edgy – Katie even cut school today. I can tell they are feeling edgy and out of sorts, they are playing comfort music (Police, greatest hits). Ah, there’s Keith come back with the milk and bread, so it’s time to have breakfast for supper…. the ultimate in comfort food.

Paul says he’s doing better. We shall see.

this and that

I am holding myself and rocking back and forth in pain because, due to (deleted), by fiat we must dress up and so I am wearing a bra AND pantyhose AND a skirt AND… blecch! MAKEUP. I mean, I’ll have it all rubbed off by noon, and not in a nice way, but I actually have black stuff on my eyes.

The apocalypse got delayed until today. Really, I think it was very nice of the apocalypse to hold off until a weekday. I get my game face Monday morning.

Big shout out to Tom and Peggy, who fed me two nights running and probably prevented me from jumping (typed humping, glad I caught that) in front of a train. Humping in front of a train could be just as bad for your health as jumping, quite frankly – what a world of different a consonant makes.

Watched Once More with Feeling so many times this weekend I feel like I could burst into song at any moment, not that there’s a man in this household who could stop me. (Or would. I mean, we burst into song all the time ANYWAY, it’s like living in a really bad sitcom with no musical director).

I had a GREAT IDEA for a community event, Buffy related, and now I am trying to come up with a venue. There’s gotta be someplace cheap I can rent that has a sound system and a damned big TV and DOESN’T serve alcohol. More details when I get a venue nailed down, and at least three other unindicted coconspirators together.

Katie and I role played job hunting yesterday on the back deck. I said, “Do you have a criminal record?” and she said, “Do I need one to work at Tim Horton’s?” which caused me to fling myself all over the back deck screaming with laughter. Okay, it didn’t happen exactly like that but it was still pretty funny.

Big shout out to Katie, who has been very easy to get along with of late and has made me laugh very very hard a number of times this weekend.

I actually played rhythm mandolin last night! We exhausted ALL the songs we know in D, and my fingers are singing a calloused song this morning.

PS I am wearing high heeled boots. Last time I wore these was to fetish night.

My parents are considering commissioning Tori to do a Gorey style portrait of our family. I am so happy about this I can scarcely squeak.

Happy birthday Tam Tam.

I sure hope all the people I know who are depressed right now get over it in a hurry. Including me.

Image is from my fOLks front yard.

HIV news

Aussie scientists may have discovered, if not a vaccine for HIV/AIDS, then a way of dramatically stimulating the human immune system against the virus. This is extremely cool and happy news, so I wanted to share it. More details in the peer reviewed journals, I imagine. The reason I believe this story is true is that a) it was an accident and b) they say they retested it numerous times because they couldn’t believe the results either and didn’t want to punk the scientific community.

 

2019 says o well

42nd St

Just finished watching a seriously strange and wondrous cultural artifact. Keith, for reasons best known to God, decided to pull out the 1933 Opus “42nd Street” and watch it. Like, first thing this morning, which was about 10:00. (Paul had gone off to work).

I realized I had slid onto an alternate plane of processed cheese when I heard 72 year old dialogue like “Anytime Annie? She only said no once, and that was because she didn’t hear the question!”

The movie itself is no great shakes, and Warner Baxter could have stood a thicker mustache (this line deleted) but what really pulled me were the two little pieces of “filler” at the end. Okay, picture that you’re on the Columbia football team and you just won the Rose Bowl and it’s 1933 and for publicity purposes you are being tossed on a bus, and pulled off the bus in Hollywood and thrown into a big pile of BUSBY BERKELEY STARLETS. Oh, da humanity. Then they all dogpile ya, with their fancy clothes on.

The other piece of entertainment was quite amusing. It showed a very raffinee party during which Harry Warner (the composer of the musical – 42nd Street) sang and played, and a whole bunch of his ‘guests’ sang and played. It was like an MTV video that was a) black and white b) didn’t have seven billion jumpcuts per second and c) didn’t take itself really seriously. Oh, and the woman who sounds like Betty Boop….. so wonderful.

Pic is of the path behind the fOlks’ place.

cheerful disbelief

There’s this wonderful story called Obstinate Uncle Otis. In it he disbelieves a whole bunch of things and they all disappear. He finally disbelieves that he exists and Poof~!

Anyway, that’s about where I am right now. I am cheerfully disbelieving everything in the hope it will go away.

Katie is off at the non bf’s; her previous plans got the parental “You’re old enough to make your own decisions but wow you sound like you’re going to get deleted and then deleted in a truck with a couple of deleted” seal of disapproval. For reasons best known to herself Katie decided that these wonderful plans, which don’t sound worse for having the details omitted, were probably not advancing her long term best interests and decided to chill with her non bf instead, which all things considered constitutes a large improvement. I mean, I actually like the kid, and he has a JOB.

Paul was off at circle last night in Poco; he says it was wonderful as always; I was glad to hear it.

Anyway, if anybody has GOOD news, please let me know.

Have you been enjoying the onslaught of mooses? It’s amazing what you get when you imagegoogle weird moose. I am now wondering what other quaint critters I can find.

I light a candle for John and Jackie Knill who were confirmed dead in Thailand. They were friends of a friend of mine; she ran into them in a coffee shop the day they left. We must love each other while we can.

I light a candle for Unca Dave, who blew through town this week and I didna get to see him. I light a candle for Paul, who is not having a good time these days. And for Keith, who went to Karate even though his mouth was still really sore from the dentist.

i am a lamprey

Richardsoni in yer face
2005-02-25— Posted by: allegra

Its own mother will never love that face.

life forms
2005-02-25— Posted by: allegra

Dang nab it! I should always check my mail before I post. Jim P sent me this. This is a Morrison Creek Lamprey, an endangered species, and a very nice cat (either Darla or Nala, I can never remember which). Close up of sucker mouth next.