i love you, i'm going to blow up your school

Random, undescribed photos of our trip to Iceland are here...:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/air_greenland/

...for anyone who cares. Mostly for my family's sake. I decided to open a flickr account, as I've long since deleted (sorry "deactivated") the Facebook. I doubt I'll update it with everyday things, though please note recent cat photo; I've taught him my demeanour well.

Leave for Iceland tomorrow. This one has been a long time coming, let me tell you. I'm stressed to all hell, yet confident that my vacation's going to go a little something like this:



I know I tweeted about this. Friday song, Pokemon on the Amiga, etc. Today's like a really big Friday. We're like the cat & bee. The chicken's probably someone I used to know.

I knew I carried this thing around for a reason...

I like Twitter, but it's downright unruly. It needs to be "managed", because it's so buggy. Like my cat's fur.

Oh, who am I kidding, we all know Seth is more dandruffy.

He's precious is what he is.

I'm having a difficult time being productive today. Yesterday, I had this problem whereby I daydreamed so deeply, I became convinced my fantasy was real. Or would be real soon.

Life is still pretty good.

Iceland soon. Bought another Boards Of Canada CD today. Pulled pork pizza for dinner.

Maaaan I'm boring.

I don't want to be at work, I don't want to go to Toronto, I don't want to see your concert, I don't want to drink in the car... I just want to sleep until, like... all the students have gone home. Can someone feed my cat for me? It's a real procedure- must be done just so.

I love how Starlight is in the running for best live venue in Canada. Umm, sure, okay... I guess when everyone who frequents there has never been to another live venue in Canada, it may in fact be the best.

I forgot to mention that we watched this last weekend:



SPOILERZ:

Turns out there is no rule that states a mule can't play in the NFL. Imagine that?

Some heinous son of a bitch dares to pour liquor in the poor defenseless mule's oats. Consequently, Gus is inebriated and lets his team down in what is really a gripping scene. From there he proceeds to miss a kick, and assplants on the football, popping it.

There is also a classic scene involving a cat, a blundering villain, and an X-ray machine.

At some point in the last three minutes of the film, there is an on-field celebration, I think.

Highly recommended, especially if you drink your wine through a licorice straw.

JUST BOUGHT TWO TICKETS TO ICELAND.

& now... the wait.

...

damn wait.

Tequila, ice cream & The Golden Girls. This began at 4:00 AM last night, and is just a sublime combination. Especially when shared.

Spent the day in Toronto, at the museum, so I'm a little worn out given it all. Such a wonderful weekend, though. So decadent; I realize that I am so lucky. Iceland in the spring... really, how am I managing all this? Hell, even my cat loves me. Maybe six years of bubbles bursting has paid off? Six years of enforcing that scorched earth policy... I don't know. I still wish someone could fix my hair.

Twitter is really stupid. I mean, I really enjoyed TwitterVision in Fall 2007, but now it's like a continuous string of Facebook status updates that lack cynicism or irony. That said, I registered one a long while back, and set it up tonight. I'm a follower; I realize. I mean, Jimmy Fallon has one. But it's more so I can collect thoughts from afar with the iPhone (aka the ultimate paper trail). Reminders, inspirations, inside jokes, & lotsa bullshit. I don't plan on sharing it, though it shan't be too hard to locate if you care. I know that my livejournal is read by no less than six of the best net-creepers I have ever known. You know who you are.

Today was the first day that you could really feel spring, here. It's doubly exciting for me since last year at this time, I could barely walk. Thinking back, I am not sure how I put up with that for so long- it was really, REALLY gross. And really dangerous.

With the new car I'm not too worried about driving places, exploring again. I can move, too, move it-move it. So we can hike- I can make it up north again. This is my year to rediscover all of those things that once inspired me, so I can hold them close, and bring them along to (or translate them for) the true-blue adult life of martinis, lawnmowers and HR reps.

Thanks to the pledge drive on the public radio, I have rediscovered William Shatner's version of "Common People" (which is perhaps one of the greatest, most epic pop songs ever written). Joe Jackson adds nothing, and I suspect was only included because they needed a British voice to sing the line "smoking fags". But Shatner... rules (at this). As does the choir. Like much else, I enjoy this now on so many more levels than I did in 2004; all the best things in life are deeply textured. Like a haircut.

Ironically, I ate a clam strip the same day this song came back- 2004 was a good year, but I was so young, and so angry with this half of the world for what was about to happen. Next time I travel and next time I come home, I will have such a better outlook. But that's not for a little bit yet.

I also re-discovered L.A. Style. I won't even get into that one except to say that every cat I knew back in 1992... is most certainly dead now.

This weekend? The ancient Ukraine at the ROM, but not before making a loose-meat sandwich from Sioux City, Iowa. Hey, it was random.

Oh, I don't know.



Everything in this picture evokes feelings which are rather obsolete now. Even the blonde, nervously annoyed that my wife may come home from Christmas shopping any minute now, with the latest Milton Bradley games for the boys.

I could totally go for a rum & Gatorade right now. It's been so long. Tonight, maybe. Or this weekend. Or both. Need to find an excuse before the excuse finds me.

Also: LOL @ J.D. Fortune. I had a dream that I changed my fav. Facebook music to "early INXS", but no, that doesn't seem right. I never really liked INXS' cloying half-rock, and the image of Fortune pounding the ground after winning "Rock Star: INXS" is so tarnishing, it clinched my unrelenting annoyance.

I also had a dream that Seth stole a raw steak, and snuck it underneath the "veranda" into a part I couldn't reach. I had to poke at him with a broom until he dropped it and went to hide in the "gully".

But it's Friday. Well, it isn't, but for me it is. Another weekend that is likely to be fantastic. I was thinking of going to the Warhol thing, but am likely to avoid it (or at least put it off until early April) due to Serena's overly poor review.

Plans thwarted also: the Morroccan restaurant tells me they only book groups of ten or more for dinners. How does that make sense? I don't like ten people, let alone want to share mahajeb or flooka with that many. What, do Morroccans eat out of a trough?

In celebration of Valentine's/Love/Flag/Family Day, here's perhaps the most-best-bittersweetest break-up-love song evar. It kind of makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I like to call it "March 2007".

The Mountain Goats - Woke Up New

I mean, it's no "Wake Me Up When September Ends", but it will suffice.

Note: Feb. 14th is important to me for different reasons altogether. Flag Day Eve! Protect your dojo!

1) There have not been enough "stimulus package" double entendres in my life this week. I think because Eric is gone.

2) Just bought five articles of clothing at Urban Planet for $35. Oh, I will miss it. Picture Springfield's 33-cent store, but filled with clothes covered in skull & dragon prints.

Listening to Boards of Canada. I forgot that it's like "Fables Of The Green Forest" on Gravol cut with space-age optimism. Suggested accompaniment: cotton candy, fondue, Nixon, sitting cross-legged in a tent with a shortwave radio in your lap.



Ah hahhaha. Kitty has jam all over her face. This reminds me of so many people.

But come over for some Hello Kitty toast. This is one rare example of my ephemera being functional.

Every weekend is always so lovely now. Sublime, even, spread on toast.

As such, Mondays are somewhat of a pit. But not the good "orchestra" kind. No, more the Hot Rod & Kup vs. the Sharkticons type.

I suppose these are typical feelings, though I really hate when my feelings are typical.

But a new car this week. Heated seats! Sunroof! MP3 Player! Best of all, now no one from my white-trash past will recognize me driving around town, cause this car's even blander than the last. But for me cars are just functional, not extensions of my penis; this car will happily commute me someplace everyday, and that's all that I can ask.

Well, I could ask for this...:



...but it's only happening in my wildest dreams, where I am also flag-bearer for the puppy & bunny collective of America.

I pickled my own asparagus in an attempt to emulate the Caesars at Ethel's, the second best Caesars in town. The first best? The ones made in my kitchen. Ah ha ha. We'll see how this turns out; now just need an excuse to drink a Caesar that isn't "Monday", or "breakfast".

Sushi tonight, with Ashleigh; I'm hungry already. Actually it's going to be a busy week all around- but in that good, distracting way.

Not that I need to be distracted from anything- I had an unbelievably pleasant weekend. I'm learning how to use Sundays to my advantage. I am also re-learning how much I love just doing simple things like cooking food and reading books when there is someone else to share the simple-ness with. Maybe I'm losing Independant Kam, but I don't care too greatly; Independant Kam drank too much, and whipped ashtrays at cats. He spent all night watching old tapes of Monday Night Raw from 1993 and walking in front of the sliding doors with no pants.

Actually, that sounds more like ghost-of-relationship-past Kam.

Okay, this entry is being closed for re-tooling.

I've since stopped, but for a lengthy period yesterday I listened to nothing more than "Chloe Dancer/Crown Of Thorns" on repeat. Never has a song existed on so many layers of context for me and music history alike. I stopped, though, because it gets me down- thinking about aging and addiction and loss and unrelenting rain.

I moved on to "Three Days" by Jane's Addiction. Which is about sex & addiction. And sex. I wish I could paint. Because I would paint what I see in my head when I hear these songs...

I'm so visual inside my head, but I'm so poor at actually communicating that on a level that anyone can appreciate. I have just read the first 25 pages of "The Famished Road" for the "book club", and... I really just wish I could even write like that.

I have to listen to something happy.

Anyway. A lot of things. Trivial things. Buying a new car. Wut wut. I feel really close to something else, but if I mentioned it here, I would sound ridiculous, and it would be awkwardly mentioned at the next work party.

I'm being alternatively patient and impatient as the dinner I made for us sits in the warmer, while we have no fixed plans for this evening. There was 90s night, but it's rather cold out there, and it's the irritating sort of 90's nostalgia (though I suppose the "Singles" soundtrack wouldn't make for a peppy-fun club night)- I can't be ironic for that long since all the irony is being used up by the fact that I have no 90s clothes. None. Me. Why oh why didn't I save all my Mossimo t-shirts? Or my Chip & Pepper?

There's still my sparkly Le Chateau shirt, but... Starlight doesn't deserve that atrocity. Plus I bought that in 2002.

If they promised me a Zima or a vodka & OK soda, I'd be there in a second.

It's tomorrow that I am thinking about anyhow. Catching up on sleep and reason & everything in between. Like petting my cat, and watching movies- I don't do enough of the latter. I still have a sealed copy of "La Dolce Vita" here. Not to mention the first season of "Duckman". And "Harry & The Hendersons". The Harry franchise needs to be revisited, rastafy him by about 10%. Now hey, that's what the 90s were all about.

I wish I could organize such a night myself. I wish I had friends who actually danced. Or who like standing up when they socialize. People dance at house parties on TV. I guess I'll have to save it for my wedding. Though a big screen with nothing but animated .gifs hosted on Geocities isn't terribly romantic, I am sure I could manage.