Originally uploaded by Foxtongue.
Have to admit, from an objective point of view, there's nothing sexier than a girl wearing her hair like a shirt. Even if it does look like a twizzler factory.
My last few days have been pleasant to the point of being ridiculous. After staying up all Monday night taking pictures, I went for breakfast with Matthew at Slickety Jim's then sat reading my book in a puddle of sunlight on the drive for an hour. It was calming, a nice way to even out the wellspring of conflicting smiles I was inflicting on passers-by. When I got home, I made plans to meet with Andrew, Sophie, and Kate over at Zulu Records, but by the time I got there, Andrew had already bought our tickets to the Afrika Bambaataa concert coming up, so we all gaudily trooped down to English Bay for a vague picnic on the beach instead where it was chilly, but nice. I met Dan Fairchild, which was neat, then we all went back to Andrew's until Ray arrived, which is the point where I fell asleep on the floor. Bang. Out.
Even one year on, tsunami toll remains elusive.
Half an hour later, I shook awake and lifted myself dreamily to the couch next to Ray, where I promptly lost consciousness for another half hour. Eventually they ran out of pity and woke me up, dragging me out for a delicious dinner, then back to watch SCRATCH!, a painfully good documentary on the origins of hip-hop. It dug through my brain like a refresher course at gunpoint. By the time I got home, I dropped successfully into bed and sleep for the first time in a month. Wednesday morning Jenn came over deadly early for a Metal Walls breakfast, and from there we ran into a cheerful David Bloom who went on charmingly about a play he's hoping to get into this summer as Macbeth. After I dropped her off, I ran into Chris, the contact juggler, and a couple who wanted to know if I would be willing to be their paid tour guide of the city. I told them no, I wasn't qualified to put a light spin on this place, but I gave them a list of sweet places to look at trees from and that made them happy.
NASA Stardust: "We've removed first aerogel cells!," webcam url.
There were messages waiting on the machine, the owners of Hypatia, a local higher end fetish footwear shop, were asking me to call them for a job interview. Odd, as I never left them a resume or had ever talked to them before, but Raphaella works there, and her recommendation was enough. They hired me on the phone and I started today.