a laboured mess of words

In an attempt to conceal just how much I struggle with writing up blog entries, I'll begin this post with an irrelevant but worthwhile tidbit like how a can of corn kernels has the capacity to smell like cheap wine. Are you riveted? I dearly hope not. Otherwise, I'll chastise you for being a low-quality reader (but secretly be thrilled that my weak statements have an easily moved audience).

In the past week, I've managed to uphold two negative stereotypes that may or may not involve "women" and "asians" with relation to driving. How might one do this, you ask? Simple. Reverse into a midget-sized pole in a carpark. I'm not even going to make excuses for myself; in fact, I'll even add that the smash repairs guy and I are totally on a first name basis. I said, "HELLO, I'VE COME BACK TO BRING YOU BUSINESS," with the chipper air of one who is not a war veteran. He laughed and said, "I should give you a frequent flyers card." (*Will just note that this is the first of my road misadventures where fault rests on my shoulders, mmkay)

So, I've been enjoying the bustle of the outside world. My rustiness at blogging can attest to this. Yesterday after class, I made my way to the Museum of Contemporary Art with Alex, whereupon he informed me that he totally had some rehearsed comments and art appraisals at the ready, ahaha bless! Then I took the following picture at some point during a leisurely stroll. Sometimes I forget how beautiful I find the city I live in, but instants like these are like refreshing gusts of clarity.


In the evening, Nerida picked me up for a gig, and added me to the collection of girls in her car. I instantly warmed to them like a potato in a microwave after hearing, "Oh, we'll look after you tonight!" in response to my delcaration that I was the baby of the bunch.

Here, have some myrth:










I love live music, the atmosphere of a small pub, and the collective easygoing quality of people who frequent these venues. There's little pretentiousness to stab through, unlike at clubs, and falling into conversation with anyone is as easy as settling into a an armchair specifically designed for the grooves and ridges of my tender bottom! Stumbling into bed at a time of day pre-emancipated-Cinderella did not have the luxury of enjoying, sleep was short-lived, and I drove Isabelle to school prior to jumping onto a train with Min, in order to make it to a television shoot. We were extras, courtesy of the darling Chris, and all I'm prepared to say on the matter is I am mother trucking better at tennis than I ever gave myself credit for!

Look, all I'm asking for right now is a calf massage. I am exhausted.
It should also be noted that I haven't gone to the gym since Monday. You see how treacherous old age is?!? Excuse me while I have a quarter life crisis...

Night

4 comments:

  1. You realize what this means don't you? The NEXT time I wander down to Australia, I must hear you sing at a pub! Of course by then you'll have made it and will be totally self sufficient making a living with your many talents.

    You know, looking back at what I just wrote, saying that you'll make a living with your many talents could be misinterpreted lol! but YOU know what I mean.

     
  2. Museum of Contemporary Art - I have no idea what they have there but my city is also full of awesome art galleries but I never have anybody to go to museums with anyways. I'd never dream of having prepared commentary on art. The only thing that could be prepped is if I know plenty of the artist(s) having the exhibit. If not, I prefer the gut reaction to seeing something. I love seeing paintings, drawings, and getting envious of the artistic excellence of others. Not to mention the frustration of not generating visuals at the moment. I admire sculptors because I lack skill in that area.

    Looks like you had some fun pubbin. As I type this, I'm glancing at a cover story in a local daily newspaper called "Death of the Venue:Bureaucracy out of tune with the local scene"
    So I've come to the conclusion that Vancouver needs you to save the venues that make up our local music scene. Just joking. I haven't read the article yet but I've read others like it.

    Don't worry about the gym if you're keeping up with your physical activity via other activities like running into midget poles. The only thing you have to work out for are all the corn kernels you're getting drunk off of.

    I know, I make bad jokes and should be going. Therefore I leave you with the word verification for today "pagra"

     
  3. hmm for some reason I thought you were from melbourne?

     
  4. " I've managed to uphold two negative stereotypes that may or may not involve "women" and "asians" with relation to driving."

    you are funny. it's good to see all the mirth going on :)