Five Months and Counting

In true "more music adventures" form, yesterday brought Hillside Inside, the winterized version of the summer original in which an entire day is spent basking in good times, good friends and great music - indoors.  (Dun dun dun . . . Also, prepare yourselves: my camera hates life.)

I started volunteering at Hillside last summer, and my only regret is not having started doing so earlier.  My position is situated in the events office, dealing with cashiers and things of the sort (especially wonderful when it's pouring and I can remain air conditioned and unscathed), so when the opportunity came up to do it again, I clearly jumped at the chance.  (Literally.  Minus the jumping.)  Luckily - because I had to drive Judith home at the end of the show - my shift was over by 5 pm, leaving me over seven hours to take in the festival.  (Yes!  This was Judith's first Hillside.  I feel our friendship has reached a new level of bonding since I was present for her festival baptism.  Is that sac religious?  I don't really care.)

After catching The Rural Alberta Advantage (who are super rad and totally encompass Canada's organic-yet-badass feel - check them out), I met up with Judith, Bryn and Carly for dinner before we headed to see Owen Pallett.  Needless to say, he was a-mazing. 

I have to confess (and I'm sure this will diminish my credibility somewhat), but before seeing him live, I never really gravitated toward Final Fantasy (his previous name, for those of you not well-versed in indie culture) and while I acknowledged his talent, I always felt relatively indifferent.  (I know - I'm being judged.  It's deserved, I understand.)  But then I saw him live.  Man.  Earnest, emotional and entertaining, the man knows what's up, and my decision to skip out on his music-in-a-thunderstorm circa Hillside 09, can now be branded as "obviously stupid".  (Rain or shine, I'm Hillside-ing in full force this summer.)

Following Owen, a sit-down was needed.  (Cement floors + shoes not conducive to standing for hours = seats and drinks.)  The beauty of the Sleeman Centre (where the festival took place) is that regardless of where you are, you can see/hear perfectly - so we hiked to the top of 200's and parked for Martin Sexton and Socalled.  While I'm not necessarily into Martin (at all - sorry, friends), the Montreal-based Socalled was super-fun and a total hip-hop-opatmous (ha!), resulting in a dance party for Bryn, Judith and I while we sipped our bevs and debated candy apples.

Before we knew it, it was 9 15 and time for Hawksley Workman, a legend in the Canadian music scene.  Whether or not you're into him, his charisma, voice and ability to rock out (did I just say "rock out"?) must be appreciated, since he really does bring it (again with the 90s references - I blame my fatigue) to every performance.  Sure, his set was pretty short (45 minutes-ish - after all, Hillside is a well-oiled machine), but he made it count, and I totally dedicated his performance (mentally) to Miss Amanda Robertson - my dear friend who loves him deeply and who couldn't make it to the show (since she lives in Edinburgh).

Next up was Arts and Crafts darlings, Bahamas (who were rumoured to be featuring Feist as a guest star) who continued the streak of Canadian folk-rock (though I'm aware Hawksley doesn't exactly constitute as "folk").  While it would've been cool to have the rumours confirmed (I mean, even the radio mentioned a "Feist-y" guest appearance), they still owned at life and were the perfect segway to lounging during Ani.  (What?! Lounging to Ani?  I must be mad, right?)

See, Ani DiFranco was the big draw of the Hillside Inside this year, and though I get why she's great and I appreciate her talent, she's not someone I particularly gravitate towards.  Would I defend her talent?  Absolutely.  Her relevance to music?  You bet.  But would I purchase records or tickets?  Not entirely.  Everyone has artists they love, artists they don't and artists they're indifferent towards, and Ani is mine.  She's a force, a talent and an integral part of folk, but she's just not for me.  Hence, Judith and I sat down, candy apple'd and water'd, and I had the chance to quick catch up with Dan and Paul from Woodhands who were up next.

Remember the glowing review I wrote for Remorsecapade?  (No?  Read it here.)  Well seeing them live is even better with the enthusiasm, energy and excellence that ensues during performances.  Following Ani's super-chill set, a dance party quickly took off as fatigue and sore feet were overlooked for the sake of dance-ability and all things fantastic.  (And even though Hillside has a strict 12 30 curfew, they were even allotted an extra minute during their set - woot!)

Needless to say, a great day was had.  Fun with friends, lots of great music, and I even had the opportunity to run into the crew from AUX TV who I've been meaning to meet since we bonded over our parallel Twitters, writing and our obvious good taste in music.  Not to mention the countless friendships spawned between fellow volunteers while we bonded over random run-ins and general festival enthusiasm. Score.  Only five months until Hillside 2010 when we can bask in the glow of great music and great weather.

Thursdays Aren't Just for NBC

In my typical "whatever - I do what I want!" fashion, I figure there's no time like this evening to blog it up and provide an update on my eventful Thursday (also known as "I'm watching Ghosthunters and if I don't have a distraction, I'll likely spend my night in the fetal position denying paranormal existence").  So behold, a "day in the life".  Prepare yourselves for the utmost in intellectual stimulation.

After a morning spent hustling (and by "hustling" I mean "applying to writing gigs like nobody's business"), I tidied up, outfit co-ordinated (don't judge me) and headed to my friend Greg's for rice and tea.  (I know, you're judging the rice - but believe it or not, 1) it was delicious 2) the tea complimented the deliciousness perfectly and c) I totally took the rice hostage.)  Following our hour or so of youtube-ing, record listening and chatting, I headed off to meet my friend Katie for coffee - a hangout long overdue.

The fun thing about Katie is that up until recently, we hadn't spoken in years aside from a random run-in at the Generic Bird.  We met at night school circa "when I wanted to be a doctor" (aka three years ago slash a sad time in Anne Donahue fashion), and we-grouped this month over Twitter and its ability to reconnect friends over common distastes for pod people.  (Should Twitter be paying me for this advertisement?  I think they should.)  Needless to say, we had lots to catch up on, and the afternoon flew by.  (Clearly we'd come a long way from our nights upgrading grade 12 English - and from my days sporting fake Uggs and a shag haircut.  Yikes.  Also, you can follow her blog here.)

On the way home, I happily used my Chapters gift card to purchase Kelly Cutrone's new book (don't you dare judge me) and following an hour of Golden Girls, I headed out for tea with my good friend Buddy Brennan of Working Reel Films.  (Fun fact: Buddy and I met at the Generic Bird when he was shopping with his wife last Christmas.  The three of us bonded over movies, the industry and our general awesomeness, and since then Buddy's been a cross between a mentor, sounding board and extended family member.  His wife, Linda, is also super rad - so don't tell me Generic Bird didn't have a silver lining.)

By the time I got home, it was dark (who are we kidding? It's winter in Canada - it was dark at five), my room needed sorting and Barry Gibb needed cuddles.  However (after finding a fabulous invite from Jess in the mail), work soon (literally) called as Katerina Graham's publicist phoned to confirm an interview with Ms. Graham for tomorrow - or tonight if possible.  Three cheers for accommodation as schedules synced, angels sang and amazingness ensued because by 9 45 I was speaking to Katerina from a studio in Los Angeles about acting, singing and everything in between.  Cue:  well-deserved nod of satisfaction and pat on back.  (Because one interview = an official "productive" day.)

So now here we are.  Ghosthunters has since ended, and Destination: Truth is in full force.  (And they said 'quality TV' is a thing of the past.)  Tomorrow I've got coffee dates (yay!), breakfast catch-ups (huzzah!) and an iPod exchange (technology upgrade, whaaat?), and I hope to transcribe an interview or two (multi-tasking, ahoy!).  Only two sleeps till Hillside Inside (are you counting?), so you can guarantee they'll be Tweets and updates galore as I share with you my adventures in the events office and in the crowd.  I tell you, February has some serious awesome up its sleeve, and if the past five days have been any sort of inkling, it will kick January's ass all the way back to 2009 (where it undoubtedly belongs).  2010, ftw.

Recap: January

So as promised - and one day late (as if you're surprised) - I have returned with my re-cap of January 2010, ready to answer for my progress (or lack thereof) over the last 31 days.  I figure by being forced to acknowledge where I stand, I'll push myself that much harder in my endeavours so that by December 31st I won't be embarassed about abandoning goals 10 - 24 or ashamed for forgetting that "getting out of debt" means exactly what it sounds like.  So with Bruce Springsteen playing in the background, let us revisit the list 'o goals that will skyrocket me to success.  (Or at least out of my current state of financial duress.)

1) Live Debt Free
Well unless I won the lottery (which I didn't), there's no way I could rid myself of the irresponsibility I accumulated over five years in 31 days.  However, I did sit down with my Mum (a bookkeeper) to map out a battle plan that will ensure my Visa and LOC will no longer be used, and that my bills will be paid on time.  And by keeping my hustle on (by the end of the winter, I'm sure every music and art magazine in Ontario will know and curse my name), more work is sure to come my way.  In fact, there are some exciting developments - but 1) they occurred in February (so they have no place on this list) and 2) I am updating you on goals - not writing progress (today).

2) Get a Passport
Money is required for this.  I'm on it, I assure you.

3) Ridiculous Writing Success
Well, I can promise that one thing I have been in January is busy, and if you follow me on Twitter or have me on Facebook, you'll know that I shove my articles down your throat on a daily basis.  (In fact, here's a piece I did on The Ruby Suns, and an album review I wrote for Midlake's latest.  And what's that?  A piece in which I slam "The Situation"? Oh, that's right.)  I've applied to writing gigs and TV gigs like nobody's business, and if certain developments come into fruition, my February update will be much more exciting.  (Although you'll know far before the 28th.)

4) Cash-money
This goes hand in hand with "get out of debt".  It's a work in progress.  Think of it like the Sistine Chapel.

5) More Music Adventures

Yes! This has happened (and is in a constant state of happening).  January boasted not only Tegan and Sara and The Great Bloomers, but interviews with the Local Natives, Maiko Watson and Gentleman Reg (which will be posted shortly).  Also (although the shows aren't until spring), Melissa and I scored tickets to Vampire Weekend, The xx (twice) and Florence and the Machine this month, while Ash and I booked our spots at Miike Snow.  Now if only somebody wanted to sponsor my ticket to Coachella.

6) Friendships a Plenty
My friends have continued to be awesome, and there's no sign of this changing.  Whether we were engaging in drive and talks, lunches, coffees, antique endeavours, vintage shopping, baking, concerts, photoshoots or a night at the movies, I've still maintained the essential posse of pals that continue to be my ultimate support.  This is a love letter to you guys - you are the best.

7) Head to Winnipeg
This hasn't happened.

8) Head to Vancouver
This either.

9) Head to the UK

Nor this.

10) Visit Casa Loma
Also, this.  (I swear January was fun - I mean, read my blogs?)

11) Tattoo It Up
God damn it, I swear I did something this month.

12) Maintain My 1960's Relationship

A-ha!  On December 31st, my Beatles Anthology arrived in full force, and I haven't looked back.  While I detoured into modern music (and still reside there), my love affair with all thing 60's has yet to cease, and after finishing my British Invasion book on Sunday, I'm in desperate need of a time machine.  (And for the record, the Beatles continue to follow me wherever I go - I've asked this to continue.)

13) Live For Right Now

Done!  (Well, doing.)  I don't know how many times I waxed poetic about living for now and doing what makes you happy this month, but I can assure you, more than a handful of friends were subjected to my passionate "all we have is now!" speech.  (Well it's true!)  Just yesterday at lunch I was telling Jess how important it was for me to have now, and how - though I have goals and hopes for the future - I refuse to be carried away by the hype surrounding "when I grow up . . ." and "in a couple years . . ." moments.  (Is anyone else banging their shoe on a desk?)

14) Buy Rubber Boots

DONE!  Straight up, crossed off the list.  (If only all of my goals were attained by spending $2 at a thrift store.)  Behold, they are lovely - and will come in quite handy during my trip to the UK (eventually).

15) Go to TIFF
As TIFF has yet to occur, I am exempt for making an excuse for not doing this.

16) Build My Library

This one's iffy.  If you're referencing my magazine collection, then yes, it's grown.  But since I've vowed not to buy anymore books until I've finished the ones I already own, buying more would be simply irresponsible.  But this month I read not only my beloved British Invasion, but The Perks of Being a Wallflower.  Not bad for reading only before bed (and when I'm NME-less).

17) Not Need School
Hm.  This is a grey area.  By February's end, I shall address it.

18) Pay Off Stella
Next!

19) First and Last's
Seriously, why are all of my goals about money?  (Well, because you need it to do the things I want to do.)  Nonetheless, don't judge me.

20) Music Title Increase

As I'm trying to be responsible, I have yet to purchase any records - so technically, this is a responsible thing.  (However, I'm pretty sure I bought Fleetwood Mac in early January - or was that late December?  Hm.  Well, for argument's/responsibility's sake, let's assume I bought everything in 2009.)

21) Beatles On Vinyl
This is a test -  because I'm trying to be responsible.  I almost bought Rubber Soul for $10, but that would've gone on Visa, and frankly, that's a no-no.  So no, I am not grasping either side of this double-edged sword.

22) Accumulate Necessities
I bought new things I needed!  (On sale and with gift cards - huzzah!)  However, as I'm still in dire need of PJ tees sans hairdye stains, I can't fully cross this goal off my list.

23) Do Fun Things
Um, yes.  Always.  But this one's consistent - it's not as simple as the $2 boots.

24) Transition Into Other Mediums
Does it count if I'm technically on Radio Laurier staff without having recorded anything?  Yes, I was welcomed into the world of radio, but no, I have yet to appear on the air.  Thus, this is a grey area, and grey areas do not deserve the ultimate cross-offs.  (I'm a harsh judge, what can I say?)

25) Get a New Camera

Well, I'm proud to announce that my ghetto superstar Cannon is still alive and kicking.  The important thing is that sometimes, it takes really great pictures.  And by "really great" I mean "thank God for the Polaroid feature via the Interweb".  How long before I turn to disposables?  (And yes, I know I posted this photo in January, but frankly - it's hilarious.)

So sure, on paper (or screen), January doesn't look particulary productive, but I assure you that it was the perfect segway from "the black hole that was 2009 to the awesomeness of 2010" (as perfectly stated by Alana the other day).  Though February's only four days in, already things are in the works that could be entirely fantastic - but much of it is in the midst of a "will it or won't it?" grey area.  However, the beauty of a grey area is hope - and until I'm entirely jaded, cynical and hopeless (I said "entirely"), I will chase my goals with the fierceness of a drag queen at a Jimmy Choo sale.  (Too much?)  February, you're mine.

Miss Washed Up USA

Did I promise updates or did I promise updates?  (I'm not sure, did I?  Well, regardless, here they are.)  Friday night was a re-affirmation of why I don't bake, as Erica and Monica slaved over our doll cakes for hours on end - and I managed to make the icing taste like chemicals.  As eight o'clock turned into nine and nine turned into eleven (and I went home to bed), the ladies continued their doll-a-thon, managing to make two beautiful offerings that I had nothing to do with - other than dousing them in limitless comic relief. 

The plus side?  Um, well two cakes and countless "that's what she said"s.  The downside?  Erica and Monica are currently going on zero to negative hours of sleep.  But - aside from the sleep deprivation and eternal fondant struggle (that shit is not easy to use), it was a fabulous evening that was wonderfully complimented by the Miss America Pre-Pageant Special.  (But just so you know, we do not condone pageants.  We dislike pageants immensely.  We watch only to mock/judge/feel better about ourselves.  It is important for you to know this.)

Yesterday, I woke up bright and early, headed to Waterloo and picked up Judith for our Hillside Inside training.  (Hillside Inside is an annual music festival that compliments the three-day Hillside (Outside) that takes place every July.)  Half an hour of orientating ourselves around Guelph's Sleeman Centre later, we headed to my small town's greasy spoon and bonded over scrambled eggs, bacon and perfectly fried homefries.

The thing about small towns is that despite your family and close friends living in close proximity, you're constantly exposed to the people you once knew and remember you only for the person you were.  It's almost like living in a constant high school reunion, where partaking in the dreaded "oh hi . . . what are you up to these days?" conversation is a daily occurrence.  Clearly yesterday was no exception, and though I have nothing against the people I constantly run into, my town limits are becoming increasingly smaller, so while others gravitate toward marriage, mortgages and white picket fences, I'm pulled towards the opposite.  Our high school's motto was "roots and wings", and nothing seems to ring truer - my roots are here, but the need to leave the nest is growing, and in moments where I feel "gah! I need to get out of here!" I simply apply to more gigs, stick to my savings plan and assure myself that my future doesn't lie in small-town Ontario.  For the love of all that is good.

After breakfast, I dropped Judith off, headed home and started getting ready for the Anti-Pageant Pageant Party (after a nap, blog reading and cuddles with Barry Gibb).  Again, it's important to state that we do not take the pageant seriously - but costume parties?  Well, those are an entirely different matter.

I embraced the title of "Miss Washed Up USA" and quickly resembled most of Young Hollywood after a night on the town.  With Erica as Miss Illinois (home of jazz), her sister as Miss Alaska, Jess as Miss America 1967, Monica as Miss Puerto Rico (who incidentally wasn't in the actual pageant yesterday - lame) and Adam as our casually-dressed Mario Lopez, we embraced junk food, mockery and red wine as we watched and judged the competition (but not in the sense of awarding points - mostly in the sense of being shocked that a woman's worth was still determined by the way she walked in a swimsuit).  Laughter was had (ie. the fact that Miss Texas is inspired by Batman - more specifically Adam West), commentary was given and a Barbie cake was consumed, and though our shin-dig was more intimate than it was bursting that the seams (that's what she said?), it was a bright spot in the bleakness of January nights.  (Also, feel better, Alana!)

I'm dedicating today to the world of music journalism, as I finish assignments for Dirtbag, write my overdue script for Radio Laurier and re-organize/clean my room.  (Right - so cleaning isn't entirely music writing-related, but it serves to make me feel more in control.)  While I listen to records (or British radio - whatever equals increased productivity), I'll tackle my 29Secrets piece and also hope to finish my interview with Kyle Howard.  But most importantly?  I've got a letter to write.  Thanks to Melissa, Dirtbag was recently presented with a music review by Jessica Hopper who felt the need to incorporate her politically incorrect views while surmising Vampire Weekend's Contra.  As a renowned feminist, it's shocking that somebody like Ms. Hopper would practise such close-mindedness in her writing - especially in the world of music journalism (aka the arts) - and its disappointing that she seems to embrace the ignorance and stupidity that runs rampant throughout her article.  You can read the review here, and I'm sure by tomorrow, Dirtbag will have its response - though I'm sure it (nor my contribution) will hardly compare to Melissa's letter to the editor (which is actually both amazing and terrifying).

So have yourselves a fantastic Sunday, friends, and I will return tomorrow or Tuesday to re-cap the year's goals and evaluate where I stand.  I can promise that at least one of the 25 have been achieved - but I choose to leave you in suspsense.  (It's killing you, isn't it?  I knew it.)  My life is like an episode of 90210 - minus the bad acting, drug use, teen pregnancy and anything that relates to the show.  So make sure you tune in for the next episode - I'm relying on you to keep my ratings high.

Eyes on the Prize

So after an evening spent blogging and relating to the wonder that is 30 Rock (please contact my Twitter for the quotes that made my life complete), I woke up to sunlight and windchill, ready and set to head to Toronto for typical Anne-Melissa mayhem.  (And by "mayhem" I mean "hitting up Chapters, the Eaton Centre and the crepe restaurant on Queen West".  Epic.  But actually.)

What's exciting is that whenever Melissa and I join forces, great conversation, good food and live music anticipation are sure to ensue.  Since we may or may not define ourselves as "live music junkies" (well, no - we don't actually compare to the die-hards who stand in line during rainstorms or insist on pushing their way to centre stage - but we're certainly fans of music nonetheless), we're already super stoked for the bands set to come through in 2010.  Needless to say, attending only two or three shows in 2008 was a fluke I hope not to repeat.  (What can I say - I was still coming down off the shit storm of 2007.  I hadn't budgeted for "fun" or "good times" let alone concert tickets and nights of awesome.)  World, ready yourself.  (. . . For our wit and charm?  I think we all know that I'm constantly faced with reality checks - ie. spilling my purse contents everywhere, tripping up the stairs - in instances where I begin to feel too cool.)

After lunch at the crepe place, we braved the sub-freezing temperatures and retreated to Melissa's digs for tea, magazine analysis and further discussion.  Since time seemed to fly, I was heading home before I knew it and thanks to the afternoon commute, a one hour drive actually equalled two.  (Thank goodness for iPods - though I'm sure all surrounding cars thought I was crazy as I used Stella as my personal karaoke stage.)

However, since most our discussion seemed to revolve around world (or industry?) domination, I came home to start applying to gigs like nobody's business, attempting to budget my money and time in order to ensure I am debt-free and career-solidified by the end of this year.  "Eyes on the prize" have certainly become a motto, and though I sound increasingly like a broken record, I am determined to make some serious writing progress in 2010.  (And I should stipulate that when I say "writing progress", I mean "music journalism and all things pop culture related".)  I refuse to return to retail for hourly pay.  I've pushed myself out of the hypothetical (?) nest, and I'm determined to fly - though I might fall a bit first. 

I did feel a bit down en route home due to the current money situation (I curse the mail system and the fact that cheques take eons to arrive - and for the record, this whole "starving writer" thing makes me endearing, right?), but I refuse to attend the pity party, so after eating dinner, applying to gigs and basking in the glow of a friend-filled afternoon, I'm back to my old self and ready to give it all I've got.  Plan for tonight?  I'm about to head over to Erica's for a Barbie cake bake (though I'm sure I'll simply offer Erica moral support while I eat icing), then I'm making it an early evening so that I'm 100% for Hillside Inside orientation tomorrow a.m.  (Yep!  Hillside Inside is in less than a week, people - ready yourselves for a blog of epic proportions.)  I leave you with photos of the afternoon, and the fondest of wishes!  Put those positive vibes out there that a) I soon have exciting news to share and b) that I don't go overboard with the icing, resulting in social awkwardness an unfortunate sugar high.

Sidnote: Melissa was recently featured on the fabulous style blog, shedoesthecity.com.  Check it out, and be proud!

Winter = Spring < Season ADD

Right, so after three days spent working and convincing my immune system not to pay me back for weeks of missed sleep, I figure it's high time for a blog report (you know, so I can blog about how "alt" I am - ha).

I'm happy to report that all of my deadlines have been met, and though I had to bail on Radio Laurier training, pals and coffee outings in lieu of PJ time, Barry Gibb cuddles, sleep (though not really) and an abundance of tea, work was completed and I still have much to look forward to.

I spent Monday evening with Lauren, submerged in the Victorian era as we treated ourselves to The Young Victoria and pined for the romance that was once so prevalent.  Sure, I'm not exactly into corsets, formal engagements and marrying at age 20, but there's something to be said for the "true love" aspect of the Emily Blunt-Rupert Friend dynamic.  (And of course, the fact the movie made me cry has to say something.  Aside from "I'm sometimes overly emotional especially when sleep deprived".)

On Tuesday, articles were written (such as a piece for 29Secrets, my interview with Maiko Watson and my review of Woodhands' latest album) and coffee with Amanda was had, but by the time evening rolled around and I was at my Uncle's (he's leaving for Vancouver for a month on Monday), I could tell my sleep-free evenings and hectic schedule was about to take their toll.  (Please cue universal chorus of "lame!")

Luckily, when I woke up yesterday I was treated to weather that matched my mood and current situation, so instead of being taunted by sun and unseasonable warmth, I stumbled upon wind gusts, snow and freakish cold.  (Clearly nothing in comparison to my friends  in the prairies, but cold nonetheless.)  Nothing encourages pajama wear and tea-drinking like January days that remind us all why Spring is always welcome.  I know I've been singing the praises of January and new starts, but by the time you begin pining for an extra two minutes of daylight, the novelty of January First - though important and awesome - begins to wane slightly.

Don't get me wrong, I still love January (and seasons - and Canada . . . since "Canada" and "seasons" go together oh-so-well?), but when it takes ten minutes to warm your car to "slightly above freezing", things like chirping birds (though I will curse them when they wake me), sunlight (though I wear SPF 45 since I have the complexion of a ginger vampire) and green grass (though I'll be doped up on on Clariton for most of May) seem welcome.  This January's been quite pleasant (at times I only needed one or two layers!), but like clockwork every year I begin anticipating spring and summer.  The outfits, the roll-down-the-window-bility, the floppy hats, the necessity for cold drinks and popsicles - all of it.  Of course, because I have ADD of the seasons, I'll be over everything by mid-July (and pining for autumn), but right now?  I have only positive thoughts.  So cue: Dazed and Confused.  It needs to feel like summer.  (Though for the record, let's make it quite clear that I do not hate winter, and will likely bask in its presence the next night I'm basking in its clear-and-freezing glory.)

So after another day spent PJ-ing and being professional (for real - I actually wrote five articles today and interviewed Toronto musician Gentleman Reg via phone), I'm happy to report that I'm feeling much more myself and will continue on my streak of fun as the weekend approaches.  Tomorrow, I'm off to Toronto to spend the day with Melissa, and the evening might see me try my hand at making a Barbie cake for Erica's anti-pagaent pagaent party (Miss America is awful - so we will gather to mock and consume junk food).  I'd let you in on the rest of my weekend plans, but then I'd be tempted not to blog since you all already know. (Well, not actually - I love blogging, but I've got to maintain some sense of mystery.)  And of course, work will also prevail since I have interviews with Kyle Howard and Gentleman Reg to type up, as well as a piece to write on New Zealand band, Ruby Suns.  Yes.

And now?  Now, I must rest and watch 30 Rock.  After all, the parallels between Liz Lemon and I will never stop - I must always be aware.

No Time for Winter Blues

Good day!  So as promised, may I present: a blog this weekend.  (I know I technically promised a blog on Saturday, but frankly, fun times with friends took me away - and let's be serious, these fun times were long overdue.)

After a Friday spent playing catch-up in the class I've attended once (A-plus student, right here), I grabbed a nap, wrote a review of Tegan and Sara's Kool Haus appearance, interviewed Jana Kramer (of 90210 and One Tree Hill - I know, right?) and headed to Waterloo for an evening with Judith and The Great Bloomers.  Cue: Catch-ups with Sam, wine on the bed of clouds, and an impromptu photo shoot (Judith and I have zero great pictures of each other, so it had to be done), and hours later, we finally set out, grabbed Camels (while mocking the patrons of the city's most obnoxious bars) and headed to Trepid House.

An adorable and cozy venue, Trepid House is just that - an actual house, where bands play in the living room and it's a free-for-all for dancing space and standing room.  Luckily, the music gods smiled down on us, and though we were (fashionably) late, we secured couch spots and soaked up the sweet sounds of Canadian indie while attempting to both balance and bounce.  (Standing on a couch without shoes = exceptionally tricky and geared only towards small children with freakish balancing abilities.) 

Opting out of seeing the second band (no offense, I'm sure they were great, but beer and ginger ale at Ethel's was calling our name), we headed down the street to everyone's favourite townie bar and discussed the goings-on of our lives while watching 40-year-old women get drunk and make bad decisions.  (Also, there was a highly comical indent in which a man seemed to approach our table and yell, "Want a beer, bitch!?" to my horror - before I realized he had been asking "Mitch" if he wanted a beer - who was sitting behind us.)

After wrapping the evening up, I headed home, had an actual sleep (through the night - and without hunger - can you believe it?!) and woke up to write my article on Maiara Walsh before an afternoon spent sushi-ing and window shopping with Ashley.  As a result of magic (or global warming), yesterday embodied spring to the max, and spurred by sunlight and unseasonable warmth I blared Fleetood Mac as I got professional, and planned for adventures that will help cement 2010 as the year of amazing.  (24 days in, and though life lessons have been wreaking havoc, I believe they're designed simply to test strength.  Kind of gage-ing (gauging? sp?) mine and everyone else's capacity for awesome.)

The evening came and went with drive-and-talks with Alana, cuddles with Barry and major reminiscing with Erica and Ashley at Casa d'Erica.  (Evidently, the 90s and 2000s saw a surge of seashell necklaces, unfortunate haircuts (mostly me), pleather and genuine oddness.  How we all remained close is a mystery - albeit victory - and should be celebrated.)  Drinking tea while analysing goings on and wondering where everyone from high school ended up (I pride myself on having ex-communicated most of my high school population) led to a night of laughter and cringe-worthy tales (such as the time I wore an entirely navy ensemble with hiking boots and a khaki bucket hat circa 1999), and made for an excellent Saturday eve.

After catching an SNL rerun, sleeping nine hours (consecutively!) and enjoying my weekend tradition of donuts and tea, I finished my school catch-up, wrote my piece on Maiko Watson and began my correspondence with you.  It's raining today (and I'm secretly pretending I love in London), so staying in to be productive is entirely justified.  Next on the docket is my piece on Jana Kramer, moments of studying (or writing a piece for 29secrets), then coffee with Lindsay who's Whistler bound in two days.  In the meantime, feel free to check out my pieces on Heidi Montag and Conan O'Brien, and I'll be back tomorrow (or Tuesday) to keep you posted on what promises to be one of the busiest weeks of 2010.  (And yes, I'm aware only three weeks have technically occurred.)  Enjoy your Sundays, and drink some tea!