Well the lethargy burn out that has been sweeping the blogosphere (Pat Tillett, aside. What a productive jerk.) has finally hit Fleekin Floygn and its soon-to-ask-his-shrink-for-medication auteur, The Illustrious D. Also, talking about oneself in the third person is for asshats so I'm going to stop.
Last weekend, I went to the hometown for the launch of the album I recorded with my all-singing, all-dancing jew group back in March. I've been too full ennui to bring the chuckles as of late and so will present my experience in MS Paint form:
1. The 58B Bus - Toronto is home to the shittiest drivers in the world and I know what you're thinking, that it's because we have such a high Asian population, but shame on you. That's racist. And true. So what should have taken a little over an hour from the time I left (3:30) to get to the airport took nearly two and would have take an infinite number of hours had I not realized I was on the wrong bus as it sped past the airport. This put me at 5:30, the time my plane was to begin boarding. Evidently, Sesame Street's claim that today's show was brought to me in part by the letter B was a big fucking lie. Kiss my ass, Elmo, you red piece of pedophilia fantasy shit. It was the 58A bus that I should have taken. I jumped through the rear window and landed in front of a Sheraton, stole a taxi fan from a group from the National Rhythmic Gymnastics Convention and made it to the airport by 5:45. That's right, motherfuckers. Cab ride, security, gate all in 15 minutes. Jesus loves me. Know who doesnt? Fucking Elmo.
2. Sushi - Mother picks me up outside the terminal (no sense in meeting at Arrivals. Doesn't love me that much.) and she proposes we pick up sushi for dinner. Wow, Mama, you so with the times. 1996 better watch its back. We ordered a meal combo for four, which is appropriate as Father eats entire Ugandan villages for a mid-afternoon snack, Mother barely eats at all and I eat like a goddamned normal person! We're the Three Bears of suburban jewery.
3. Trains - Later that evening I went to meet Suprisingly Interesting Accountant, a chat buddy from North Dakota for the past 5 years. He'd decided to come to cross the border for a post-tax season celebratory holiday and chose the weekend I was there to do it. He invited me over to his friends' place and we sat around, drinking wine, eating Saskatoon berry pie and playing Ticket To Ride, kind of a railroad version of Settlers of Catan. We also didn't wind up going to the bar (literally singular in Winnipeg) so big ups for not having to watch David's Parade of Losers 2001-2009 file by. SIA was actually a pretty great guy, as far as meeting internet friends goes, so there was a lot of win going on that night.
4. Scissors/Eye Glasses -I got my hair cut the next morning. In the 10 months I've lived in Toronto, I've never got my hair cut here once. I either do it myself or wait until a trip back home. That is how deeply rooted is my respect for my bespectacled stylist. Equally deep rooted? My hair shame.
5. Keyboard -That afternoon I rehearsed with the group and then went home and had dinner with the fam. I also rocked out pretty hard with my hippie cousin to some ol schook Regina Spektor. I miss my old piano.
6. Opera Diva wida braid - After dinner, I went to see Future Roommate sing in a kids' opera based on the Bruthas Grimmz. (That's a stereotypical opera singer with a Rapunzel braid. NAILED IT.) The certifiably insane person who'd taken over directing our group had given me an anti-depressant to test drive that night, but my expectations of insta-happy were not to be, as one evidently needs to have a chemical depression and not simply ennui and malaise for it to work. I, on the otherhand, lost the ability to form coherent sentences and became a cantankerous baiznatch, the combination of which really held up my game when meeting Future Roommate's mother for essentially the first time.
7. Nachos? - After the lovely show and my maternally-directed verbal diahrrea, we went fo nachos & drinks with some people. You guys, drawing nachos is motherfucking hard. THE ARE NOT SIMPLY PERFECT SQUARES. Seriously. So frustrating. The little olive cross-sections were kinda fun. But using the spray function to try to make melted marble cheese?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Also, that side of guacamole looks like pea shit.
8. wtf Bagel & Lox... - The next morning, we had a Mothers Day/Mah Birfday brunch and it was lovely. Know what isn't lovely? That piece of crap bagel & smoked salmon I tried to draw. It looks like someone took a discoloured Frisbee, came all over it, then applying some slices of ham (Jew Fail) , peas (THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE GERKINS) and purple circles of nothing. Cause purple circles do not exist anywhere. Then I got really frustrated and scribbled all over it. Ugh. You'd think the chosen people coulda chosen Paint-friendly food combos. COVENANT TERMINATED.
9. Chocolate Fountain - After brunch, I was transported to the album launch site, where I sat around for 4 hours until a dress rehearsal that ended an hour before showtime. It was lame. The event was a attempt-at-fancy wine & dessert evening with an hour+ long concert from us, which I guess went alright. If you're interested in reading it, I'll post it here. There was also a new, really cute 19 year old pianist who the Bloated Medicated One convinced me was giving the eye my way. This was later disproved when he showed up at the afterparty with his 28 year old girlfriend. At least I'm not the only one robbing cradles, though in my case, they generally go crawling back after a week or two, leaving me with nothing but a pacifier and dribble stains.
10. Key Fail - After the afterparty, I went to meet another net friend, although one with whom there'd been a bit more flirtation. It wasn't awesome. It was nearly 1:00am on a Sunday night (yes, technically Monday morning, stfu) and nothing was open. I drove him to my group's performance studio as I had BMO's security code and it was be a nice place to chill. Unfortunately, they'BMO had failed to mention that they're changed the locks so then we had to get back in the car and drive back to his neighborhood, searching for a park to walk in only to discover that it was way too cold. We got back in my car, made out for a bit and then he unceremoniously announced that he had to get home. So much ugh.
11. Jam, bitches - The next morning I had lunch with Seventeen Year Old (now 20) and it was so lovely. Having watched him grow from this fat ball of attitude three years ago to the increasingly self-possessed young man he is now is just awesome. He's still so him, just...better. He bought be breakfast. I bought him some of Stella's ballin' jam. We joked about doing drugs together. Ha ha! Look at us! So funny! Talkin' droguas! Ha...ha... *sigh* god, I miss it.
12. Lays Classics - After launch with the Future Roommate and a.w., the former dropped me off at the airport at which point I found out the my flight had been delayed by an hour and a half. Balls. On the plus side, they gave us a $10.00 food voucher for the shitty, shitty Winnipeg airport vendors. I used it to get a Greek salad, potato chips and two bite cookie thingies...and that's it. There was nothing remotely appetizing. My stomach had been on the hate train with me for days and I thought that getting Arby's would be a little too fate-tempty for me.
12. Sick D - On the plane, I made the mistake of telling the stewardess (yeah. I said it. You wanna be called 'flight attendant' then stop wearing whore makeup. Truth.) that my tummy was funny and she handed me a gingerale and kicked my ass out of the roomy, roomy exit row seat I had reserved. Fortunately, she kicked me into my own row, so I guess that's a win. Shortly thereafter, I had my first Hershey Highway experience at 39,000 feet, meaning I Jackson Pollock'ed the bowl, not that some flight attendant named Martin plugged me in the lavatory.
Cause we all know what amazing fortune I have with flight attendants.