A piece of art, for which I am not your thief. When I woke up this morning, I was horrified about my now-erased blog. I was advised to leave it, but decided against it, because it was disturbing me, and it was disturbing others. "Funny, but scary too." And I felt like a total monster for writing it. From now on, I will stay away from expansive amounts of alcohol, and hand-in-hand with that, away from writing implements if intoxicated by any substance, that have the exposure of a blog.

My day was spent quietly. I putzed around the house and contemplated my Grandmother. My parents came to visit before I took off to Fenton's house to watch movies, and they ended up buying me Taco Bell and dropping me off at Keegan's- for some reason, this restaurant has become very important to me. If Fenton were to ever suggest changing venues for our nights out (just him and I), I would fight it, tooth and nail, unless we were going to the Chinese place across the street with the creepy mirrors ("the false grandeur"). Part of the original plan of the evening was to do arts and crafts also (print transfer patches and wristbands = my awesome idea, birthed at 1:20 pm) but apparently, le poulet tropical (I know it's 'chicken', but it's funnier that way) of Fenton's Ma, are sensitive to fumey substances [1]. We compared our sad love lives and chatted merrily over crap pizza instead, and then walked to his place after renting "Nothing", one of the greatest Canadian flics I've seen in a while.

The movie was about two guys that basically hated away the world, so that they and their house were the only things left in a great white void of endless nothingness. And they could hate away any object, world condition, or mental condition (albeit sometimes only temporarily). And they couldn't bring them back. They went through all these "two men lost in the desert" phazes (excluding cannibalistic desires- after eliminating "feeling hungry"), because there were no other people there. Big focus on eyes in cinematography, and bigger than usual focus on special effects, and absolutely amazing improv-based dialog. It was really quite a well done, and well thought out movie. I have a feeling this paragraph is missing a bunch of hyphens, but whatever. A hyphen free zone. Ha ha...did you see that? Hyphen free. I will cause my teaching peers endless pain.

And then, the tense game of chess. I lost, but not too miserably. Must hone strategic-forming skills.

On my way home, the wierdest thing happened. A man named Garni, with very little english, was at my bus stop- lost, and desperate for a phone, and so nervous about being lost that he was somewhat hard to understand. My phone was dead, so I asked some girls if he could borrow their cell phone, and that was fine. He phoned for a ride with an Indian dialect that I've never heard before, and then told me straightaway where he was from, how long he'd been here (I didn't ask) and how much he loved it- he works at the Batai Village restaurant as a cook- his boss's name is Ramesh. So we're sitting there and he asks me if I'm hungry. And I'm in the middle of saying, "not really" when he pulls out some restaurant left-overs and hands me a chunk of tandoori chicken. So we sat there eating chicken and flat bread (can't remember the name) for about ten minutes, talking about Mill Woods (where he lives). It was pretty incredible, and my god was that good food.And it's so funny that I was eating food that a complete stranger had given me, in the middle of the downtown core, at twelve-thirty at night. It sounds terrible, right? But it was really quite a profoundly unique moment. He's a very kind man.

Where am I at right now? I'm worried about Bullshit Proof Vest. And hoping that Bento and the Boy had a great time at their show (River and Stream? Fawn and Stream? I dunno....)

[1] - acrylic gel medium that we would have been using. Doubly worse about not doing this craft, was that we didn't get to use my glass bead acrylic gel either. Le suck.



  ¶ 2:39 AM