we went to a 6.30 show at sonic boom (used/new record/cd store) (downstairs) yesterday, the raveonettes, it was wickedly boring for me, i made a video of all the white people standing still even at the last jammiest song when you’d think people would cut loose a tad, no way not on bloor street no way! fil and matt were at the front the whole time and i milled around in the back and read an entire graphic novel and took pictures of record sleeves. i got a latte from starbuck’s even i was that bored and then almost fell down the stairs in front of everyone on my way back down, my right boot heel hooked onto the top stairs oh man i woulda left immediately and 40-odd hipsters would have been like A GIRL FELL DOWN THE STAIRS JUST BEFORE THE RAVONETTES SET BEST SHOW EVER.
i could not see one thing that was going on during the show cos they were sitting down and there was a hipster mob all around them, initially i was up by fil but felt really claustrophobic and annoyed by everyone’s pre-show silence and fake spectacles.
as i walked around pretending to study vinyl and 45s i thought what is wrong with me why do i totally not enjoy this shit how could i humour it before, i guess it’s a depression thing, never happy never sad just medium and the only way i can jazz it up is by drinking i guess.
emilio thinks fil has a full-blown music show addiction, or signs of it, to which we attempted to psycho-analyze last nite at green room, drunk.
toronto needs a new thing, for me.
steve of lavender diamond (<3) just emailed me out of the blue, he says the funniest thing is that bands now actually make me sleepy the louder, the sleepier; heavy metal and I’m out like a light, sometimes standing on my feet and me too i say. i get tired of having to find an inner sanctum within myself not to upset the herd, standing really still and looking like you aren’t enjoying yourself takes a grand effort. if i could just lie down and draw during a show that would be nice. i think i’ve over-saturated myself with bands that aren’t very good or memorable and it’s spoiled the pot for the time being, for acts i actually enjoy.
when cid’s pupils are dilated the similarity is uncanny, uncanny!
then i put on my headband and we went out to get wings!
fil is paranoid that cid will fall asleep with his head over the ledge of this teeny basket and cut off the blood flow to his head, passing out and dying, so as precaution cid’s love partner is placed in the basket when we go out, yes this is all true.
me at 19, incredibly baked from the blunt that was rolled on halloween but was lost in one of the many pockets of my army costume, found a month later then we walked from little italy to roncesvalles, stoned on hash. that mural’s been painted over. remember that day sheckie?
i didn’t know last nite was basically friday for us party animals until i was loaded in a 7-11 demanding doritos, i coulda gave’r a lil harder man! oh wasted thursday what is a friday. no worry, i feel destroyed right now anyway as yuje!
today or tomorrow i’m going over to gill’s to try on the 20 dresses of hers i set aside for my new orleans trip, which has been put back another week (after my birthday) and that eases my easily stressed out mind a tad.
dude, these chicks were BONKERS! near the end of liam’s set they come out of nowhere and party up a storm, i was filming them and the one in the white shirt hammed it up hardcore for me i couldn’t believe my eyes, oh youth.
oopsy daisy.
the thing is, his music and their dance moves, weren’t really in sync, at all.
judgemental groupie central.
if you go to shows then you’ve seen yvonne, she’s an institution, the first time i met her i buggered it up by saying she reminded me of this crazy woman from oakville, but somehow meant it as a compliment? she thought it was amusing, i said welp there’s lots more where that came from unfortunately.
and i told renita that her look reminded me of something extremely specific and do you want to hear it cos it might be crazy insulting? she’s like yeah tell me, i say ok you know the movie mrs. doubtfire, when robin williams has that show at the end when he’s that old lady, ha yeah mrs. doubtfire, whatever, well he has this puppet as a co-host? yeah well, you look like that puppet in that hat and leather jacket. i just tried to find a picture of that on google, can’t. if you have mrs. doubtfire and you don’t have a life can you watch that part of the movie for me and give me a confirmation on this please? thanks. thanks to mle for tracking one down!
it makes sense really, cos her brother brad looks like the muppets kind of, the other nite he looked like scrooge in his black scarf and dinner jacket ok you don’t care.
before all this we killed some time at gill’s after dinner at the re-opened midtown, new ownership, we think it’s going to tank (they’re trying to do bottle service!)
mom that red cardigan was yours, gill is the recipient of the majority of your shirts.
fucking buzznet puts ads over their videos now, and i finally got youtube to upload a video, and then it was removed? it was just a vid of me jammin’ shittily to gh3’s paint it black what the fucking fuck. so i’m wicked pissed, i deleted the original, i guess i’ll try the one of paranoid next see how long that lasts.
anyway, black hair or keep it as is, thoughts?
i drank a vanilla ensure for lunch/starvation/hour of power and almost barfed it all up fuck that stuff is gross, and all i could think of was max the dog (in his last days fil’s mum gave max ensure and other fatty things cos he was losing a lot of weight) and my grandma, sitting on my grandma’s bed in her retirement room, having an ensure each, and how i associate ensure with death now. once you get to the bottom of the bottle there are gobs of gooey gross and after every sip you get a metallic taste in your mouth ungh if i concentrated hard enough on it right now i bet i could make myself barf.
then i had half a tylenol three cos my kidney is hurtin’
then i had a bath and painted my nails while listening to the same three songs i always listen to and wondered if the neighbours would give me shit or something cos they can no doubt hear everything that goes on in our ‘loo and i was hoping they would so i could say yeah well i’ve heard your fucking acoustic guitar music through the bedroom wall since we moved in, and it’s crap!
then i tried to sink to the bottom of the tub and felt really sleepy from the t3 then i plotted out infinity outfits to bring to new orleans and obsessed over how i was going to fit it all in my tiny suitcase and had many mini panic attacks (worst traveler ever) then i got out and now here i am hi.
yeah t3 always makes you kinda queasy, t3 + barf milkshake = spewiest idea yet.
oh and i chickened out of slamming on the wall when that old guy yelled at his wife again just now.
ok so it’s my birthday soon and there’s gonna be a party on saturday march 29, i have zero details of where or what is going on, fil wants you to email him if you want to come: loveswomen@gmail.com or facebook him whatever. so mark that date in your calendars, no excuses, i’m turning 25 can you believe it!?
we went through all his wedding pictures i took that he hadn’t seen and WOOF was i fat, thanks for telling me you guys!
they made a significant dent in the charity beers.
cid and i retired earlier, not by much though.
we think cid’s metabolism is on the fritz, i guess i should stop sharing all my meats with him, yesterday it was leftover ribs. he also has a fondness for cheese.
clothes mountain depresses me so.
new little speakers, pretty fucking grand, goin’ to change our lives this summer at the beach, i am looking forward to fighting over song choices with fil so hard. and wearing my supermarket dress, that’s basically all my brain can fit in it right now, supermarket dress and summer.
liam is playing at the el mo tonite, i hate that place, whatever, we’re all going to support the l’il duder, so if you want to come hang or stare at me from a dark corner of the room while i’m at the bar being bitchy and irritable come out, it’s only 5 bucks.
here’s a few excerpts from an article what a journalism student did on your hero recently:
The lone bartender detaches herself from the bar, where two men are singing drunkenly, comes over to the table, and asks if anything’s needed. White orders a vodka soda, and squeezes the lemon slice before dunking it in her drink. The Flaming Lips’ “Do You Realize?” pounds over the speakers, and White has to lean and yell to be heard. White writes many beginnings of fictional stories, but hardly finishes them, she says. One story she did finish, called “I Like The Crazy Girl,” was put up on her blog and later printed in “Marketable Depression.” The thousand-word story is about an autistic girl named Melinda. “I incorporated from my memory some character traits in an autistic character in a Baby-Sitters Club book,” she says. “It’s kind of beautiful, the way you visualize the crazy girl. She wears crazy dresses and it’s sort of charming, but she can’t access her beauty because she’s fucked.”
White views her blog as a vital launching pad to something next – she mentions that the “something” may be TV, acting, writing another book, or a movie based on the Raymi persona, which she says she has already been working on. “Even when I don’t want attention, I want people to view me under a microscope,” she says. Of her blog, she says, “I undersell it. Eight years, and it’s transcended what other people think of blogs. It’s an online journal, it’s artistic bullshit, I document my entire life.” Wilen quips, before going out of the bar for a smoke, “it’s sometimes risqué, sometimes ordinary, but interesting. You’re going into someone’s head, with anyone’s blog.” Wilen then gets up and lights her cigarette on the Jameson candle flame. White makes a funny face at her.
“Knowing her, and reading her blog, I’m sometimes surprised. I forget she’s as good a writer as she is,” says Phil. Phil has known White since 2004, when they met in Oakville, Ont. White In her memoir, White writes, “in many ways he has saved my life.” Inside Ted’s, White responds to Phil’s compliment, “You should tell me that. Sometimes I need…” then she pats herself on the back.
White says she’s succeeded because “people are starved for meaning. Blogging is a saviour these days.” Though she says blogging is “a little of everything and a lot about nothing,” she hopes to be remembered for being funny and inspiring, for making people “feel okay about being depressed” and letting them know that “there are good things in this world, more colours than just the colour grey.” Near the ending of her memoir, she writes, “I’m that someone who is forever going to be something someday and that’s what my something is. You know how everyone has a something, well mine is that girl who is going to be something, maybe nothing, but maybe something.”
