dance dance institutions

Overall, I'd say that dance bars tend to have the worst names of all commercial establishments. There are two dance bars in Edmonton that are among two of the terribly named that I have ever seen; Rehab and Prohibition. Get it!? They're named after things that they aren't!!!! I was thinking today that I should open a bar that also takes its name from the same concept. Would you drink and/or dance at a place called Dignity?

Winter? Winter! Winter.

As I have recently returned to the Prairieland, I am beginning my first winter truly deserving of the name since the winter that spanned 2004-2005. That quite a few winterless years.

Part of me believes that the cold won't actually come. The West Coast and it's soppy winters have seeped deeply into my bones and blood and prairie winters almost seem like a tall-tale meant to scare off the ignorant. But no. If I search back into my memory, I remember that all that ice, snow, and wind is coming fast on my heels. This little sprinkle that we've had today is just the knocking at the door of a long term guest.

Once I've affirmed the reality of the winter I begin to romanticize it, which I feel must be a defence mechanism of most who live where it's great, white, and north. Really, there is something beautiful about a world blanketed in the purest of colours. And those calm snowy night walks when your own footprints seem to be the only blemish in the perfect streetlight-lit pale orange world. As well, to make it through the season has the effect of making a person feel slightly above those who have not endured the cold. But is it these things that I like or just the idea and memory of these thing? Time will answer that question, I suppose.

Now as I find the cold to be fast approaching I must accept it. Perhaps, I will find myself revelling in it. Maybe, I will buy a toboggan or relearn to skate. Definitely, I will find myself fully appreciating the mild, wet winters that I have 'endured' the past few years and shed the wussy skin that I have grown. All of this, courtesy of winter.

a bottle and a high-five: both thrown

One of my first days in Edmonton, as we walked to our local alehouse, a bottle was thrown at us from a passing truck and narrowly missed. When something like that happens it's hard not to think to yourself, 'we are not wanted here.' Happily, things have gone on quite well and without a hitch since. Just yesterday a homeless fellow insisted that we slap a high-five and later an odd man randomly struck up conversation with me about the Magpie that was eating crumbs at the hotdog stand and I felt like such a part of the community.

The Winner Takes It All

I am packing up the apartment. Among my things I came across this list:

I believe that I had been compiling a list of the greatest bands ever. Don't be fooled by it's short length; the list is completed.

new home, etc.

I have found a new home in the city of Edmonton. Through some familial connexions I have lucked into a basement suite in a prime locale with ridiculously low rent. This bodes well for my new hope that Edmonton will be the unexpected place where dreams come true and everything tastes like candy or t-bone steak.

Speaking of unexpected, today I saw the movie Ice Age: 3D with a three year old. After the movie he hit me in the crotch. I doubt that he comprehends the full power of even a little fist to the crotch just yet.

Tomorrow there will be a plane ride to Victoria for a last island visit for a while. Back to work at my terrible job on Monday and then three more weeks until moving time. Other than the tag-team tasks of packing and cleaning I am quite eager to get moving.

clothing optional

If there is one this that the hippies got right, it was Wreck Beach.

At said beach roughly three years ago a young man - who at the time I believe to have been under the influence of psychedelic drugs - said to me:

"From now on, I'm only buying things from naked people."

Much time has passed and that man is sure to be in a very different mindset now, but when I was recently at Wreck Beach I thought to myself, I think that he was on to something.

.I.

I've got a dirty kitchen in a messy apartment. I purchased a new record, which is actually two records, by the band Deerhunter today. I've been finding books of fiction to be difficult to read recently. I want non-fiction. I want facts, not daydreams and imagined schemes! I am beginning to get stoked on being schooled in Edmonton. I am not looking forward to the effort of home-hunting, packing, moving, and unpacking. I am looking forward to the road trip between Vancouver and Edmonton that it will involve. I am glad to have the chance to spend much more time with my nephews and the adults that they live with. I am beginning to feel 'at home' in Vancouver, which is sort of a real kick in the crotch seeing as I am leaving so soon. I do not look forward to the inevitable prairie winters. I am hoping for some hot prairie summer days followed by thunderstormful evenings. I do not wish to mow lawns for subsistence anymore. I spend a lot of time thinking about where in their yards people could cultivate nice gardens instead of water-guzzling grass or callous concrete. I should be cleaning my abode. I am enjoying these new records, though I knew I would as I have unlawful e-versions on the computer. I should be playing my drums with other musical people. I will try harder to do so in Edmonton than I did in Vancouver. I hope that I will find time to do so between studentry and workmanship. I do not like that the jobs of my special lady and I force us to have such divergent schedules. I quite enjoyed our morning together, drinking coffee and rummaging through record bins. I should try reading something by Orwell, who's fiction is very non-fictiony. I think that might get me back on the fiction train. I should really start cleaning.