A Week With the Sav and Other Stories.
To the memory of Steve Irwin. Hunting crocodiles in heaven now, mate.
My evil landlord has yet to correct the problem of my internet connection, so this information is a tad dated. But I know you crave updates of my bland life like John Karr craves extradition from Thailand so turn up your brain knobs and enjoy.
Jen came and visited around the 23rd of August for a week on the coast. As ever, it was an encapsulating pleasure to see my BFF and hear her wonderful stories and cutting criticisms. We ate delicious dinners, highlighted by Stepho's on Davie street which offers mountains of Greek food for low prices, hence the block long lineup outside I reckon.
That was also the night I saw my beloved Narduar and the lead singer of Hot Hot Heat looking aloof in his cowboys and spray on jeans. I have begun to shake my head at new fashions. I am now, officially, not the new generation. Thank Christ for that. Their bands all suck.
We climbed the Grouse Grind, which is purported to be the highest point in Vancouver. It's also called nature's Stairmaster, which is a misnomer since I don't think mountain trails, let alone mountain trails with wood stairs fastened into the soil are natural occurring phenomena. It took about an hour and half to reach the summit, which is about average. I wasn't too sore afterwards but it's a decent workout and my shirt was appropriately wet at hike's end. It is my lofty ambition to make it a regular activity of scaling Grouse Mountain, maybe go up once a week. I will be one svelte, oxygen-raping stallion if I keep it up.
To be seen in public with a girl, Jen and I also viewed Little Miss Sunshine, which is, honestly, one of the best movies I have seen. Directed by the married couple who directed a lot of Mr. Show episodes how could it be bad? Hilarious and touching without a hint of schmaltz. I know a great flick when after it's over I am filled with jealously that I didn't write it. This was certainly the case here. See it! Jizz!
We didn't do too much partying. If I bored you, Jen, I do apologize.
The day Seamus left, Amy and Andrew rolled in a cherry red chariot. They brought me a wonderful homemade gift. Her cardboard heart keeps me warm at night, friends. We had a good talk and they kindly drove me into work in the morning. It's sweetly soothing when a friend you care a great deal about dates someone you tolerate. However, when you not only tolerate their chosen mate but sincerely enjoy their company that's something to water thrice daily and keep vigilant watch over.
Jordan joined the motley crew on Friday. Which was a night of work finishing and then a walk through east downtown which isn't too sketchy as long as the sun's still out.
In the evening we went to scope out Of Montreal. What a show. Great dance/party music. And a male lead singer in a miniskirt and golden fleece jacket gets my vote for front man of the month. Wonderfully entertaining.
Jordan and I went to Kits on Saturday, after scoping out a Haida art exhibit and an instillation by Arthur Erickson (is he cool, Skip?) night did some window shopping and checked out Half Nelson. Even though the title seems completely arbitrary it's a worthwhile moving with another lassoing performance by Ryan Gosling. Well done, you handsome, talented Canadian who's boning Rachael McAdams. I fucking hate your guts.
We got high and watched some college football (C'mon Demon Deacons!) in a nearby pub and then had a serene walk over Burrard Bridge back into downtown in a perfectly warm evening.
The debauchery and sobriety shirking of the long weekend was only dampened by my landlady who asked me to leave the premises. She was upset at my visitors and demanded I pay her an extra 100 bucks for the utilities, because apparently hot water is more valuable than gold or oil in BC. It was fucking brutal, I had to talk her out of evicting me right then and there and, moreover, had to make Jordan sleep in a hostel is his last night in Vancouver. I might be moving in with a friend of a friend in North Vancouver in a few weeks. It would be a much better place and I think I would have a lot more fun there and, assuredly, be less isolated. I will keep you posted. Big ups to James for forwarding me the information. I owe you a Pilsner, Sheck.
Sunday, I met Kat. A woman introduced to me via e-mail by a mutual friend in Edmonton. She does seem like a sweet, engaging lady, but it was a pretty odd first impression. She showed up to the bar already drunk and after joined by her workmate and cousin the tequila sunrises in pitchers appeared and shots soon followed. She spilled her drink and then fell on the floor. She also had to slap some douche bag in the face who grabbed her tits in the bar. Yeah, I guess you can say I liked her right away. Now, don't get the wrong idea. She's got a boyfriend, but I think (when sober) she and I can forge an enjoyable friendship. Granted, it was a little uncomfortable, made worse by my being such a sissy with weed lately and after smoking up with her crew and Jordan I got very withdrawn and left early, however after meeting someone for the first time completely fucked up there's a certain pretense lost. It's a relationship accelerator. I know I don't have to play the same 'testing limits' games with her. I can just be my regular, dirty joke telling self around her.
Forgive the poor writing and errors - I wrote this quickly. School is starting. Bye.
My evil landlord has yet to correct the problem of my internet connection, so this information is a tad dated. But I know you crave updates of my bland life like John Karr craves extradition from Thailand so turn up your brain knobs and enjoy.
Jen came and visited around the 23rd of August for a week on the coast. As ever, it was an encapsulating pleasure to see my BFF and hear her wonderful stories and cutting criticisms. We ate delicious dinners, highlighted by Stepho's on Davie street which offers mountains of Greek food for low prices, hence the block long lineup outside I reckon.
That was also the night I saw my beloved Narduar and the lead singer of Hot Hot Heat looking aloof in his cowboys and spray on jeans. I have begun to shake my head at new fashions. I am now, officially, not the new generation. Thank Christ for that. Their bands all suck.
We climbed the Grouse Grind, which is purported to be the highest point in Vancouver. It's also called nature's Stairmaster, which is a misnomer since I don't think mountain trails, let alone mountain trails with wood stairs fastened into the soil are natural occurring phenomena. It took about an hour and half to reach the summit, which is about average. I wasn't too sore afterwards but it's a decent workout and my shirt was appropriately wet at hike's end. It is my lofty ambition to make it a regular activity of scaling Grouse Mountain, maybe go up once a week. I will be one svelte, oxygen-raping stallion if I keep it up.
To be seen in public with a girl, Jen and I also viewed Little Miss Sunshine, which is, honestly, one of the best movies I have seen. Directed by the married couple who directed a lot of Mr. Show episodes how could it be bad? Hilarious and touching without a hint of schmaltz. I know a great flick when after it's over I am filled with jealously that I didn't write it. This was certainly the case here. See it! Jizz!
We didn't do too much partying. If I bored you, Jen, I do apologize.
The day Seamus left, Amy and Andrew rolled in a cherry red chariot. They brought me a wonderful homemade gift. Her cardboard heart keeps me warm at night, friends. We had a good talk and they kindly drove me into work in the morning. It's sweetly soothing when a friend you care a great deal about dates someone you tolerate. However, when you not only tolerate their chosen mate but sincerely enjoy their company that's something to water thrice daily and keep vigilant watch over.
Jordan joined the motley crew on Friday. Which was a night of work finishing and then a walk through east downtown which isn't too sketchy as long as the sun's still out.
In the evening we went to scope out Of Montreal. What a show. Great dance/party music. And a male lead singer in a miniskirt and golden fleece jacket gets my vote for front man of the month. Wonderfully entertaining.
Jordan and I went to Kits on Saturday, after scoping out a Haida art exhibit and an instillation by Arthur Erickson (is he cool, Skip?) night did some window shopping and checked out Half Nelson. Even though the title seems completely arbitrary it's a worthwhile moving with another lassoing performance by Ryan Gosling. Well done, you handsome, talented Canadian who's boning Rachael McAdams. I fucking hate your guts.
We got high and watched some college football (C'mon Demon Deacons!) in a nearby pub and then had a serene walk over Burrard Bridge back into downtown in a perfectly warm evening.
The debauchery and sobriety shirking of the long weekend was only dampened by my landlady who asked me to leave the premises. She was upset at my visitors and demanded I pay her an extra 100 bucks for the utilities, because apparently hot water is more valuable than gold or oil in BC. It was fucking brutal, I had to talk her out of evicting me right then and there and, moreover, had to make Jordan sleep in a hostel is his last night in Vancouver. I might be moving in with a friend of a friend in North Vancouver in a few weeks. It would be a much better place and I think I would have a lot more fun there and, assuredly, be less isolated. I will keep you posted. Big ups to James for forwarding me the information. I owe you a Pilsner, Sheck.
Sunday, I met Kat. A woman introduced to me via e-mail by a mutual friend in Edmonton. She does seem like a sweet, engaging lady, but it was a pretty odd first impression. She showed up to the bar already drunk and after joined by her workmate and cousin the tequila sunrises in pitchers appeared and shots soon followed. She spilled her drink and then fell on the floor. She also had to slap some douche bag in the face who grabbed her tits in the bar. Yeah, I guess you can say I liked her right away. Now, don't get the wrong idea. She's got a boyfriend, but I think (when sober) she and I can forge an enjoyable friendship. Granted, it was a little uncomfortable, made worse by my being such a sissy with weed lately and after smoking up with her crew and Jordan I got very withdrawn and left early, however after meeting someone for the first time completely fucked up there's a certain pretense lost. It's a relationship accelerator. I know I don't have to play the same 'testing limits' games with her. I can just be my regular, dirty joke telling self around her.
Forgive the poor writing and errors - I wrote this quickly. School is starting. Bye.
posted by Jag at 11:38 AM
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