This year I flew to Montreal for Halloween weekend.  Montreal (and its lovely inhabitants) always seem to take my favorite holiday way more seriously than Winnipeg does, so I just couldn’t bear to miss it.  I had a hard time coming up with a costume idea – I eventually went with Gym Teacher – and it wasn’t until I got to Montreal that I realized how low I had set the bar.  Those folks are creative to the max.  At any rate, I arrived Friday morning, just in time to do some shopping (instructions to the cab driver at the airport: “Take me to Simon’s!”) and hit up my friend Brianne’s faculty bake sale at McGill.

The weekend was, in a word, awesome.  Friday night I saw my friends’ band, On Bodies, play at the Playhouse for Faggity Ass Fridays.  The proceeds of that show went to Head and Hands, an organization that does sex ed since Quebec has abolished their sex ed program (worst decision ever?!).  The night was zombie-themed, but I hadn’t prepared a zombie costume.  Luckily, Dallas did my makeup, and did such an amazing job that I scared myself when I looked in the mirror.

Photo by Dallas Curow

We spent the night drinking cheap beer, listening to On Bodies play an amazing show, and dancing sweatily on stage.  Beaucoup de fun.  Afterwards we went to Palaise Royale, possibly the worst restaurant in Montreal, solely for the comedic value.  They have terrible food and worse service, but it was one of the highlights of the night.  Particularly our drunken rendition of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song, as the Anglo-hating waitress tried to ignore us/told the cooks to piss in our food.

On Bodies at Faggity Ass Fridays
Photo by Dallas Curow

Saturday was spent lounging and nursing the headache from the previous night’s beer consumption.  I met up with Karen and spent a lovely few hours catching up with her at a coffee shop before heading back to Dallas and Brian’s to get ready for the night’s festivities.  Peter dressed up again as his lady-self, Petra, and quickly became my Gym Teacher alter-ego’s nemesis.  Coach McDyke has no patience for insolence.  We’re in the process of pitching our sitcom idea.  Petra and the Wolf will be a huge hit.  Dallas, Brian and their friends Jennie and Zach dressed each as different versions of Elvis.  Their costumes put us to shame – they were fantastic!

Photo by Dallas Curow

A bunch of people came over to pregame and watch the Habs play Toronto as Dallas and Jennie made delicious cupcakes and pumpkin cake.  We left around 10pm to head to FouFounes Electrique for their amazing Halloween party.  I cabbed there with Brianne and Petra and we managed to get the most hilarious and terrifying cab driver I’ve ever encountered.  Not only was he driving like a fucking drunken maniac, but he was hitting on Petra like nobody’s business, trying to convince her to stay in the cab with him and smoke hash.  It was hilarious and bizarre.

FouFounes did not disappoint.  It took us a while to get in, but the costumes and atmosphere were absolutely amazing.  I’ve never been to a Halloween party where I was actually scared of some of the people in costume – seriously, if you have a fear of clowns, stay far away from that place.  It was intense.  The costume contest was awesome, the winners of which were a group of guys dressed like green toy soldiers, each with his own weapon and pose.  Runners up were Slash, complete with guitar and mini-amp, and H1N1, complete with giant foam hands and head.  One of the costumes that should have won was a woman dressed up like the most convincing zombie I have ever seen.  She was covered in blood and rotting flesh, her hair was in clumps, and she was twitching and shaking all over the stage.  Creepy as fuck.  Unfortunately, her male zombie partner was acting like a total d-bag so they were booed off the stage.

Photo by Brianne Selman

Photo by Dallas Curow

Photo by Dallas Curow

After a night of $1 beers and many a photo-op, we headed to The Main (naturally) for some late night poutine.  Poots and a pickle.  Story of my life.  The Elvii were even serenaded by a drunken old woman who stood on her table and flashed us while cooing “final curtain call!”  It was slightly disturbing and majorly awesome.

My flight didn’t leave until 7pm on Sunday, so we went to Fuscia for brunch on Sunday afternoon and watched a few episodes of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia – which is fast becoming one of my favorite shows.  The weekend was a total success, save for the minor heartbreak of losing my camera somewhere between the serenading flasher at The Main and the cab ride back to Dallas and Brian’s place.  I had a billion Halloween photos on that thing (and had kept such a close eye on it all weekend), so I was pretty distraught to find out it had gone missing.  So far, no sign, so it looks like it’s gone forever.  Someone else will find it and hopefully enjoy all of the hilarious photos of Petra, the FouFounes costume contest, the Elvii, and everyone else’s amazing costumes.  I guess the upside is that I can now justify buying a new, fancier camera.  In the meantime, though, I’ve managed to borrow my parents’ camera, so I’m not completely without the ability to document my escapades.

So, despite losing a bevvy of photographic gems that really do deserve to be shared with the world, this weekend was exactly what I had hoped for.  I just found out that our flights to Mexico this winter have gone down in price, so I’m able to get a credit with WestJet, which seems to me to be the perfect excuse to head back to Montreal and spend another weekend acting the fool.  Poots and a Pickle.

Photo by Brianne Selman

This past weekend Matt and I hosted a surprise birthday party for our good friend Antonio.  Despite my incredible butterflies and overall lack of faith in myself not to blow the whole thing, it was a success.

Surprise!

One of the highlights of the night for me came when a bunch of us were standing outside having a smoke.  While we were standing around talking and smoking, two very drunk people came walking up the backlane carrying a radio/tape player that was blasting music from a local radio station.  They joined us, asking for a smoke or some change or to spare a shot of vodka.  The guy, carrying the radio, even did a magic trick for us, while his wife complimented April’s hair over and over again.

Drunk Dude: Hey wanna hear a magic trick?

Us: Ya sure.

Drunk Dude: K, can I borrow you for a sec? *pointing to my friend Deirdre*

Deirdre: Uh, sure.

*Deirdre and Drunk Dude stand off to the side while Drunk Dude whispers something in her ear*

Deirdre: Uhh, okay.

Drunk Dude, to the rest of us: Okay, okay, guess from one to four.  One to four.

Us: Two?

Drunk dude: From one to four.

Us: Three?

Drunk Dude: Ahhhhhh.  You got it.

Best magic trick ever.  After the rest of us finished our cigarettes we bid adieu to our drunken visitors and went inside.  It was then that April told us that the radio that Drunk Dude was carrying looked incredibly familiar.  She noticed a sticker on the side of it that confirmed for her that Drunk Dude was, in fact, carrying around the radio that had been stolen out of her sister’s car – parked behind her house, three blocks away – two weeks ago.  Amazing.

Let me start this off by saying that I love going to see live music – no matter who the artist.  I’ll buy tickets to a show if I think it’ll be a good time, even if I’d never buy their CD (read: download their music illegally).  It really takes a lot to make me leave a show halfway through, let alone before it’s even begun.  And by “a lot,” I mean Timbre Timber.

Matt and I bought tickets to see Final Fantasy months ago – we had a gift certificate for Ticketmaster and I had remembered listening to Final Fantasy in Karen’s car when I lived in Montreal and really liking him.  Matt had never heard him before, but the tickets were only $20 and he was game for a good time.  Unfortunately, the night of the show coincided with Rachel’s birthday party (which was rescheduled from a few weeks earlier), so we planned to hit up the show and then head to the birthday party after.

The show was supposed to start at 8pm and was held at the newly re-vamped West End Cultural Centre.  We got there at 8:20pm, knowing that shows in Winnipeg NEVER start on time, but hoping we’d miss some of the opening act – Timbre Timber – as we weren’t crazy about what we heard of them on Myspace.  We got to the WECC and ordered a couple of beers (served in glass bottles – fancy!).  I was ready for a good time, so I was a little disappointed to walk into a dark room filled with people sitting quietly in neatly-aligned chairs.  We sat down and the opening act immediately took the stage.

The band consisted of three members – one on violin, another on a lap guitar, and the lead singer on guitar with a kick drum.  For what seemed like an eternity, the whining, never-ending notes of the violin and guitars filled the room, coupled with the low, whispery voice of the lead singer.  At one point, Matt leaned over and whispered “Nobody’s even clapped yet.”  That was because the song hadn’t ended.  But it did – 20 minutes later.  Twenty fucking minutes!  We realized we’d walked into the worst show we’ve ever experienced.  For the next song, the singer asked that the house lights be turned down, and the sounds of birds chirping filled the room.  The whining, drawn-out sounds continued on for what seemed like an eternity.  Someone a few rows ahead of me read the paper.  Another man answered his cell phone.  The people behind us left and came back a few times.  It was, in a word, awful.  Matt leaned over halfway through the coma-inducing atrocity and whispered, simply, “you owe me.”  He was right.  It was horrid.  We could hardly keep ourselves from laughing at the situation.  Nobody in the audience made a sound, and when the band was done the singer thanked everyone for “being so quiet.”  Not the kind of opening act I wanted to see.  Ever.

We chugged what was left of our second beers and got up to leave.  I could hardly remember what Final Fantasy was like, and we figured if this opener was any indication of what was to come, we needed to get the fuck out of there before it was too late.  On our way out we saw some folks I know who, too, thought the nature-sounds and whining violins were a bit too much to handle.

We made it to the birthday party at Academy Bowling Lanes before anyone had even started bowling.

We spent the rest of the night drinking beer and knocking down pins.  Rachel was ecstatic that we were there for her birthday, and Breccan and Rich told everyone the exciting news of their recent engagement.  It was an awesome night.

Glow bowling, complete with top 40 music videos

The newly engaged couple!

STRIKE!

I found out a few days later that Final Fantasy did, indeed, play an amazing show.  I’m sorry I didn’t get to see it, but then again, sometimes you just gotta bowl.  Shomer fucken shabbos.

This past long weekend I went on a canoe trip in the Whiteshell with Matt and 10 of our friends.  It was, obviously, amazing.

On Friday evening we rented canoes at Caddy Lake (where my grandparents have a cabin) and canoed north through to South Cross Lake, where we camped the night.  Two friends of ours had already found the site and set up, so when we got there we unpacked the hot dogs and started taking care of the beer we brought with us.

The next morning, we packed up and headed through the second tunnel to North Cross Lake, and across to the portage over to Sailing Lake.  We found a creepy cabin along the bank near the portage area, and contemplated setting up there for the next two nights.  The possibility of campsite hauntings were too great, so we decided to head around the corner to a different site – one that didn’t feature the ghost of a lonely old man.  We set up next to a set of rapids, and spent the rest of the day and evening swimming, eating delicious food, and drinking around the fire.  Breccan even brought the fixin’s for campsite brownies!  Delish.

The tunnel into North Cross Lake – don’t forget to duck!

Canoe Team victory post-tunnel

Creepy cabin

Our less haunted campsite

Enjoying the rapids

Burgers!

The glorious brownies

Sunday was spent enjoying a lunchtime adventure, as we packed up a bit of food and took the portage over to Sailing Lake, and found a spot to hang out and swim.  The weather was absolutely gorgeous, and we were virtually the only people around – we saw one other canoe on the lake that day.  We went back to our site later that afternoon and cooked up a delicious dinner, and hung out around the fire.

The portaging adventure

Sailing Lake

Our lunchtime spot

Dinner!

Breccan’s second treat: chocolate pudding!

On Monday morning we made breakfast and packed up our gear, and then headed off around 10:30 a.m.  We made it through to South Cross Lake before we stopped for lunch and ate the leftovers we had with us.  From there, we only had about an hour and a half to go before we’d be back, but a strong south wind and unnerving waves made it difficult to paddle what seemed to be a canoe nightmare.  Having just smoked a joint (and having spent the weekend in a weedy haze), Matt and I could only laugh as we tried to plow through waves that splashed up over the end of the canoe and drenched my legs.  Worst. Thing. Ever.  But, we made it, and got back to the rental place around 4:00 p.m.

Lunchtime cook-up

We’re finally here and my ass is sore

What an awesome, relaxing weekend.  Amazing weather, great friends, delicious food, and a weekend outdoors.  The perfect way to cap off the summer.

I can’t do hangovers like I could ten years ago.  Despite the fact that this admission makes me feel incredibly, boringly old, it is the harsh reality that I was faced with this morning at 8:30 a.m. as I awoke to a wave of pain and anguish after drinking my face off on a Monday night at a Busta Rhymes concert.

The ladies came over around 8:00 to pre-game (still rockin’ the pre-game like I did when I was 18, that’s for sure) and watch hilarious episodes of Cake Boss and Dating in the Dark (the amazing show where people meet and ‘date’ in complete darkness, are given the opportunity to see one another in the light, and then must decide if they want to continue seeing each other or run for their lives).  Drinking lime vodka at my place resulted in realizing around 9:45 p.m. that we hadn’t picked up our tickets from the will-call window at the MTS centre, and could very well be fucked if said window was closed.  It was closed, and we were fucked.  That is, until we sped home, printed out the confirmation email from Ticketmaster, and Meghan worked her charm on the door man (we even got to skip the line!).  Thank the sweet lord for that, because a half-cut, dolled up, super stoked Jessica who is made to lose a $50 ticket because she’s an idiot is not something you want to dance with.  She’s one mean Sally.

And she drinks beer like an Englishman

At any rate, we got in, did a celebratory shot (lemon drops!), and quickly made ourselves comfortable acting the fool, drinking too much, and dancing to various opening acts that I was pretty much unaware of and paid little attention to.  Meghan managed to catch the eye of some scrawny kid who was apparently someone important (he had a pass around his neck, that actually could have said “underage” or “needs parental supervision” for all I knew) and got us into the VIP section for a hot minute.  We watched Belly’s set from up there until we were led downstairs by said tween to the side of the stage and introduced to a man that turned out to be Spliff Star or something – at any rate, he was on stage with Busta.  Clearly, I’ve amassed an intimate knowledge of contemporary hip hop.

Busta took the stage and killed it.  It was high energy the whole way through, and the crowd was nuts.  We managed to get back upstairs (Meghan told the security guard “I’m back” and he let us up…apparently the security is easily swayed) and we watched the show from the second floor, which was an awesome view.

Someone threw their laundry-day undies onto the stage…Busta made hilarious fun of him/her.

Other than the show itself, the night is a bit of a haze of bad jokes and free shots.  I saw a bar friend there – one of those people that you only see when you’re out drinking, and are always BFFs over the course of the night, but would never consider actually hanging out with him or her while sober/on a the reg.  He provided numerous unneeded drinks and shots that I, obviously, welcomed with open arms.  Because we started the night with Cake Boss, I spent the majority of my time talking with a terrible Italian accent and doing a lot of “eeeh, oooh, eeeh” – to the point where I introduced myself as Gino to some fool on the patio that was all up in our business, and “eeeh, oooh, eeeh”-ed him out of our way.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, but this morning as I was trying to do damage control and get myself to work for a 9:00 a.m. staff meeting I thought otherwise.

So, while I didn’t get to hang out with Busta and his entourage in his giant red Flipmode bus (his bus a bus?), and while I can’t add a photo of me and Busta giving the thumbs up to my growing collection of Jess-with-Rappers photos, I had a damn fine time at a show that I almost didn’t make it in to.  Thanks, Busta, for puttin’ your show where my eyes could see.

This weekend we had our first party in the new house: a belated birthday party for me, and a housewarming party for the two of us.  It was sooo fun.  Both Matt and I were nervous about whether or not people would show up, but it turns out we had a full house: about 30 people came.  We were both so happy that everyone seemed to have a good time.  I know I sure as hell did.  We managed to get rid of some shot glasses, too – Matt’s collection has grown to over 300, so we made everyone choose a shot glass and take a shot of Jagermeister as soon as they arrived, and then they had to take their shot glass home as a souvenir. My parents even came!

We went to town on the apps.  Well, for us, anyway.  We made a bunch of dips and delicious things, and friends brought their own dips and things: Breccan and Deirdre both brought birthday cakes, and Rachel brought cupcakes!  They were delicious.

The night was amazing, and we felt totally loved.  Lots of good friends, tons of booze, and a Michael Jackson dance party at 2am.  What more could you ask for?  I love having people over, and the party this weekend just made me realize that we need to have people over more often – especially now that we can accommodate so many different groups of friends at once.  Living in this new place is going to be so much better for my social life, seeing as people won’t be scared of getting bedbugs when they come over.  Everyone was so incredibly thoughtful – bringing gifts and singing a boisterous rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ in the kitchen for me.  It was great.  If this is a sign of things to come, then I’m in like Flynn.

After realizing that my dreams of sandy beaches and fancy drinks with umbrellas in them were not meant to be, I thought that my summer vacation was kiboshed.  But, always the amazing friends that they are, the lovely folks in Montreal responded to my desperate, last minute e-mail request for a possible Montreal retreat with a resounding “yes!”  On top of that, I got in touch with my cousin in Toronto, and she immediately arranged for me to stay with her and her amazing fam for the weekend.  Thanks to these people, my vacation was a hit.

I flew in to Montreal on the morning of Friday, July 17th, and was even able to get the remainder of my pre-workshop assignments completed on the plane.  This trip, like every trip I make to Montreal, was fantastic.  After Montreal, I took a train to Toronto with Dallas and Brian (the last train before the VIA rail strike began…phew!) and went to stay with my cousin, Tannis, and her family.  From there, I went to Vancouver for Simon Fraser University’s Book Editing workshop to learn the ins and outs of editing non-fiction.  Overall, my two weeks away this summer were amazing.  Here are some highlights:

1. Roller Derby

The final match before the championships for the Montreal Roller Derby League was held on Saturday, July 18th, and it was quite possibly the most fun I’ve ever had at a sporting event.  The arena was filled with an eclectic mix of people – older couples, children, young people, drunk people – but the atmosphere was positive and exciting.  We were lucky enough to have the boyfriend of one of the players sitting with us, so he explained the rules, some of the ref’s calls, and some of the team strategies as they played out on the rink.  We drank beer (two for $5!), cheered loudly, built a beer-amid, and came up with our own roller derby names (Wrath of Khan, Mark my Words, Dallas Does Derby, and Brian Gofuckyourself).  It was all kinds of fun.  The after party, held at Caigibi, made for some hilarious shenanigans, and was eventually taken to Mod Night at Blizzarts.  There, we danced to awesome 60s music while an Elvis movie played on the screen behind the DJs.

2. Cheesecake and Birthday Wishes

My 28th birthday was on Monday, July 20th, and I had an amazing day.  I woke up early, went for a run, and got dressed up to spend the day shopping.  Karen, Lee, and I spent a relaxing few hours on their back patio before heading over to Dallas and Brian’s for an absolutely amazing Thai dinner prepared by the gracious hosts themselves.  Karen, Lee, Dallas, Brian, Mark, and I relaxed, drank wine, talked, and enjoyed a delicious banana chocolate cheesecake care of Dallas’ amazing culinary skills.  Mark and Brian left for band practice and Karen and Lee retired for bed while Dallas and I stayed up talking about the realities of growing older, the increasing frequency of friends’ nuptials, and terrible shoes.  We capped off the night, after Brian returned from band practice, with some It’s Always Sunny.  Best birthday ever.

3. Just for Laughs with Aziz Ansari and Marc Maron

On Tuesday night we all met up on St. Denis, which was blocked off for the Just for Laughs Festival.  We had dinner at a cheap little Thai restaurant and made our way over to Theatre Saint-Catherine for the Aziz Ansari show.  The theatre itself only seats maybe 100 people, so the show was small and intimate, which was excellent.  All of the performers that night were great – the opener was hilarious, Aziz was funny (albeit a total name-dropper), and the ‘free’ show after Aziz, Marc Maron, was an hour spent drifting between the extreme depression and boiterous laughter.  That guy can tell a story, but Jesus H. Christ he’s got issues.  I even saw Gary Gulman in the audience.  Exciting!

4. Yoga with Karen

One of the things that I look forward to every time I visit Montreal is going with Karen to her yoga class.  Not only is her class itself relaxing and challenging, all at the same time, but the drive there and back gives us a chance to talk and catch up and I really value that time to and from her class.  She’s an amazing yoga instructor to boot, so those classes are good for my body as well as for my soul.  Provided I don’t fall over (ha!).

5. Tattoos with Tannis

After a joke about getting matching Jem and the Holograms tattoos, Tannis and I spent the week leading up to my arrival in Toronto frantically e-mailing back and forth to try to decide on a tattoo design that we could agree on.  What started as a joke became “one of the greatest ideas we’ve ever had.”  Tannis booked us an appointment at TCB Tattoo in Toronto and the swallows were inked into our skin – hers on her ribcage, and mine on my arm.  Matching tattoos may be cheezy to some, but they’re always fun for me.  I’m so glad we got them done.

6. The Badass Shoe Museum

A running joke for the weekend in Toronto: I mis-heard Tannis when she said we were going to the Bata Shoe Museum, thinking she said the Badass Shoe Museum.  Badass or not, it was a great outing with her, Todd, and the kiddies.  Who knew shoes could be so interesting?

7. Birthday Dinner with the Family

On Saturday night, Tannis invited the rest of the Toronto Family – my aunt and cousin – over for a birthday dinner.  Spending time with my family for my birthday felt like being at home, and I was really touched that they went all out, with a cake and everything!  Just being able to hang out with those adorable little kids and to see the members of my family that I rarely get to see was a real treat.  Plus, the cake caused me to fall into an amazing a chocolate coma.

8. Beaches Jazz Festival

After the birthday dinner, my aunt very graciously offered to look after the kids so that Tannis, Todd, and I could head out for the night.  We met up with Tannis’ friend Bianca at the Beaches Jazz Festival.  Queen Street East was blocked off for what seemed like miles and miles, and makeshift stages were set up at every block where different jazz or blues bands would play.  It was amazing: there were tons of people, great music, and we had an awesome night filled with beer and jokes.  The night ended with us waking up my aunt as we microwaved dinner leftovers at 3am.  Good times, good times.

9. Vancouver Solo Redux

The Book Editing program was excellent – just like last year, I met some great people, learned a hell of a lot in a short period of time, and had a chance to see some more of Vancouver.  I met up with my cousin and his girlfriend for dinner one night, and, given that this year’s workshop was much less intense than last year’s, I was able to spend some time alone during the evenings walking around, taking photos, and enjoying some patios.  Vancouver’s record-breaking heat wave was a welcome change from the dreary and rainy weather I’d faced in Montreal and Toronto, and back at home in Winnipeg.  It was a sweaty good time, and I welcomed the solo time to relax and unwind in the sun.

I’ve been going to the Winnipeg Folk Fest for a very, very long time.  My parents took me there when I was but a wee child, and I started camping there every year with friends when I was about 16 or 17 – whatever age it is when your parents start to losen their grip on your independence.  The past few years I haven’t camped – last year I missed it altogether because I was in Vancouver for the SFU Book Publishing workshop; the year before that I didn’t camp because I had just moved back from Montreal.  This year, I was excited to camp again – there’s something about spending the weekend at Bird’s Hill Park with friends and strangers, dealing with mosquitoes and mud and melting cooler icepacks, that really just makes the whole Folk Fest experience complete.  I was in Ottawa in May for Congress, but figured that I would just buy my camping ticket when I returned.  I found out, however, that campground tickets sold out sometime in mid-May, much to my disappointment (and blinding rage, to be honest, the day I found out).  So, this year I went out to the festival Friday night, all day Saturday, and all day Sunday, and enjoyed as much of the music and people and amazing food as I could.  I soaked it in, baby.

Despite the fact that this year there weren’t a ton of musical acts that I was really excited about – although there certainly were a few – I think this was one of the better Folk Fests I’ve had.  I spent a lot of time with my parents (who volunteer every year in the campground box office) and the friends of mine that were out there camping (who had managed to get tickets).  I saw some amazing acts – Arlo Guthrie, Burning Spear, Hey Rosetta!, a Southern gospel choir – soaked up some lovely sunshine, and really just enjoyed myself.  The fact that I wasn’t camping may not have been such a terrible thing after all, as with camping comes late nights, lots of booze, and some illicit drugs that make enjoying early morning stages and workshops nearly impossible.  I got a ride out to the festival and back every day with my parents (Matt’s not a Folk Fest Fan, so he stayed in the city and worked on the house), so I was able to get at least eight hours of sleep every night, which made the days that much more enjoyable.

Next year, however, I’m going to buy my tickets as soon as they go on sale (in January, I think), so that I can camp.  I was lucky enough to get a campground wristband from Deirdre – she fell asleep at the mainstage on Friday night and when she woke up it was sitting on her stomach.  It must have fallen off someone’s wrist, but when she couldn’t find the owner, she gave it to me so that I could come visit their campsite and have dinner with them when I was out on Saturday.  Just being in the campground made me feel better – like I had at least seen what I was missing and felt a little more a part of it all.  Being in the campground for a few hours on Saturday evening also had me witness the most bizarre marching band/gypsy caravan troupe of campers I have ever seen.  Some people put so much energy into enjoying themselves, and I really appreciate it, in all of it’s weirdness:

I only managed to get slightly sun-kissed, as opposed to the usually awkward blotchy sunburn that seems to grace my pale skin every summer.  So, it would appear, I am becoming more of a regular adult and less of a ridiculous child (which seems to be a running theme as of late).  All said and done, this year’s Festival was excellent, and I can’t wait to enjoy it again next year.  It’s a Winnipeg staple that I’ve realized I must have in my life.

After planning and talking and getting excited about our trip to whichever cheap, all-inclusive resort we could find, my tropical vacation with Meg has been cancelled.  After finding out yesterday (10 days before we were supposed to leave) that Meg can’t go, I’m left scrambling to try and salvage the time I’ve booked off and the money I’ve saved to go away.  New York?  I could, but a week would be too much on my own.  LA?  Mexico?  A week in a tropical location on my own will be too depressing.  But, when all else fails, good old dependable Montreal is always there to catch me when I fall.  After getting some indication from my lovely Montreal friends that it would be okay for me to spring a visit on them at such short notice, I booked a flight to Frenchtown.  Westjet is having a seat sale, so I managed to get a one-way ticket for $99 plus tax, which is the cheapest I’ve ever seen it advertised for.  I’ve sent an email to my cousin in Toronto, so I may make a trip over to Toronto as well to visit her, if that works out.  As much as Porter is a bitch for people who actually live in Toronto (as they fly out of the Toronto Islands and disrupt daily life for the convenience of business people), it’s cheap like borscht.  Maybe I can swing a day trip to Quebec City?  Rent a car and drive to New York City for a night?  Who knows.  I’ll figure something out.  I have to be in Vancouver on July 26th to start the Simon Fraser book editing course I’m taking, but the week leading up to that is wide open.  As much as I know I likely won’t do anything ‘crazy’, I like the feeling of freedom to do whatever I want, while actually having the money to do it.

I may not be spending my 28th birthday on a sunny beach, revelling in the fact that I am now benefiting from the years of busting my ass in school to get a good job and finally having money in the bank, but I’ll be spending it with some of the best people I’ve met in a city that has a piece of my heart.

On Friday night I invited a few friends over for drinks and apps before we all headed down to Blush to see Raekwon perform.  Mine and Meghan’s goal of getting our photo taken with every member of Wu Tang is slowly on its way to fruition.

After a few drinks (or, you know, a bottle of vodka, however you want to say it) and stuffing our faces with appetizers care of Brianne and my last minute trip to the grocery store, we headed out on foot.  There was a bit of a line up when we got there, so we missed a bit of the opening acts, although I’m not sure it really made a difference because I couldn’t even tell you who they were.  The bar was packed, so we found a spot next to the stage and waited for them to bring out the man of the hour.  It may have been because of the crowd (pushing and shoving their arms through the crowd to try and get a photo), or because of all the booze, but after about 20 minutes Meghan and I left for the patio and ended up wandering around there and behind the crowd that had formed around the stage.  It was a good show – I had fun listening – but I couldn’t even list one of Raekwon’s songs, so it wasn’t like I was singing along to all of the lyrics.  Immediately after he finished, Meghan’s sister and brother-in-law left, and only myself, Meg, and Brianne were left.  We hung around downstairs as the crowd slowly dispursed, and at some point Meghan managed to get a wrist band to go upstairs to the VIP to meet the man.  Standing at the bottom of the stairs, Meghan was about to go up and I said something to the effect of “well I need to go up there too” and the security guard blocking the stairs said, as if he could care less who went up there, “ya go ahead.”

We got upstairs and someone ushered us over to Raekwon so we could awkwardly gather around him while someone took our photo.

As you can tell, the man was sweaty.  We just sort of stood around and he asked us some questions (of which I have little to no memory) and then asked me how old I was.  Before I could respond, he said “What are you, 31?”.  Jesus Christ.  Fucking Raekwon.  I did not hide my disappointment: “What the fuck, Raekwon?! I’m 27!”  Friggin’ guy.  Anyway, so after that we went back downstairs and after scanning the remaining crowd to determine that they were all, in fact, douchebags and groupies, I made my plea to the ladies for us to leave.  Meghan wanted to dance, Brianne was content in laughing at her, but I felt the overwhelming desire to get the fuck out of there.  As we were standing there, one of Raekwon’s ‘handlers’ came up to me and said “(Muffled) wants to meet you.”  I rudely responded “What?” and he repeated himself – Raekwon wants to meet me.  I said “Oh ya, I’ve already met him” and he looked at me like I had recently had a lobotomy, and then asked if I didn’t want to go back to the hotel and party with them.  Hell no.  I pointed at Meg and Brianne and he responded “ya, bring your girls.”  I relayed this to Meghan and Bri, apparently mocking the guy while he was standing right behind me.  Meghan was all for it, so we went back upstairs.  When we got up there, Raekwon waved me over and said something to the effect of “so my friend got you to come back up here” and then proceeded to ask me questions like “do you listen to this kind of music?” and others along the theme of ‘you-are-so-white’.  I scoffed and said that we had seen GZA a few months ago and that the show was pretty good.  More photos were taken at this point, just cause we could.  Brianne told Raekwon how tiny we thought his feet looked (it’s a wonder he can hold himself upright, he has tiny ass feet!), and got a photo comparing his to her size-three feet.

At this point they were all leaving for the hotel, and I was wholly uninterested in going.  I had no intention of fucking anyone, and didn’t want to end up in a situation where that was assumed of me.  You know – getting girls to go back to your hotel with you?  That’s not an environment for an old white lady with a man at home.  Anyway, Meghan made a fairly strong argument “when are we ever going to get the chance to party with Raekwon again?!” so I turned to Brianne, the Voice of Reason (being sober and level-headed), for her thoughts.  “We should probably go with them.”  So it was settled.  While Meghan and Brianne were getting their jackets, I was waiting in the VIP doorway, chatting away with the Wu Tang alum, while the rest of the entourage and the chicks they had convinced to have sex with them were all piling into the limo that was waiting out front.  In a moment of complete embarrassment (only in retrospect, though), I yelled down the hall to Meghan and Brianne as they came with their jackets “yah, just talking to Raekwon, no big deal, whatever, just hanging out with Raekwon.”  I thought I was being funny at the time, but thinking back I must have looked like a fucking jackass.  Whatever.

So we got into a shiny black limo and made our way to the Fairmont (one of Winnipeg’s few fancy hotels).  The first room we went into was just two beds and a tv (what you would expect of a hotel room), so we left there and went with the DJ and promoter to another room that had a couch, desk, and murphy bed (which we immediately pulled out and laughed at).  The next few hours were spent smoking the DJ’s weed, laughing about pretty much everything, and essentially just hanging out on the couch.  It was awesome.  Plus that DJ’s weed was really good.  Brianne had mentioned early in the night that she used to live in England, so the running joke was to call eachother “bloody wankas” and “cunts” – the best moment being when Brianne was explaining the British use of the word “cunt” and one of the guys in the entourage walked in asking for a condom (“I’mma bust in her face” – real classy, you fucking jackass).  He was a huge douche, so Bri didn’t miss a beat, pointed to him and said “this guy right here, he’s a classic cunt.”  Awesome.

We left when the guy whose room we were in wanted to go to bed, and instead of going to another room, we went downstairs so Meghan could have a smoke.  We decided at that point just to leave (I was convinced they’d hardly notice we had left).  While we were standing outside trying to figure out what to do (or trying to convince Meghan it was time to go, being that it was 4:00 am), a dude in a suit came up and asked for a smoke and started talking to us.  He was a weird guy, and kind of a dick, first lying about his father being dead to garner sympathy, I guess, and then writing down what we were saying on a little notepad he had.  He was a tool.

We left in a cab and headed back to my place.  I fell asleep around 5:00 am, only to be woken up four hours later by my brother who was to drive us to the lake Saturday morning.  Needless to say, I had a rough Saturday.

All in all, though, an amazing night.  I haven’t laughed that much or mocked that mercilessly in ages.  The next show that’s coming to Winnipeg is Busta Rhymes, and you better believe I’m going to groupie it up for that shit and add another celebrity photo to my collection.