2004-06-22..3:15 p.m.

Went to see Herman Dune last night who were EXCELLENT!! It�s all ukuleles and saws and oddly inharmonious harmonies that are as buoyant and witty as they are hypnotically entrancing. And now I�m bored. Work for me is b-b-b-boring. Actually, that�s fibbing. It�s not boring, it�s just uninspiring. Plenty to do, but no desire to complete anything with any ounce of pride beyond knowing that I�ve not prostituted my brain too far. I�ve agreed to the metaphorical handjob, but have so far managed to avoid tasting corporate spunk. What a life! What a card! What a huge effort not to go batshit! O how I love temping!

Still, at least I�m not having to go through residency permits and new apartments without furniture or refrigeration, which is facing Nelle over in the ol� Czech of Rep. Although the whole no fridge thing will be fine once winter starts, just leave everything on the window ledge, but it was pretty hot when she first got there last September. Could be a bit of a bitch if you don�t want salmonella. Regardless, furniture is never really a problem as there�s always somewhere things can be scrounged. I�m going to be going through the same thing once I get back from Canada. What a riot that week will be, notoriously painful school admin combined with homelessness and a shitload of luggage. Fantastic. Did I even mention that before? I�m going home! For two weeks somewhere in mid September before kick starting my return to scholarly pursuits and I can�t wait. All the vintage rummaging at Buy the Pound, and martini-ing at Cobalt, and Lee�s Palace and the Opera House and ACTUALLY BEING ABOUT TO AFFORD THINGS because there my meagre wage is wealth and riches.

Anyway. I have that rather awful habit of convincing myself that if I put something aside to go back to I will do, and so because of this I accumulate loads of *stuff* without realising it�ll all start teetering out of control � 7� album covers (for some reason I frequently seem to lose the albums themselves), wine corks (supplemented by visions of a sort of throw back 1970s art nouveau effort), sushi paraphernalia (buttons, erasers, those wooden takeaway chopsticks that splinter and crack so that your mouth ends up feeling like you�ve swallowed a handful of pine needles), torn quotes from newspapers and magazines that become taped to my wall which sparked something in the left hemisphere � that sort of thing? More recently, websites. (The seeking of such seems to increasingly fall under that �plenty to do� I was talking about above.) Did you know I�ve a whole document on my computer at work devoted to websites that I�ve not been able to look at properly and think at some point I will in fact return and delight in, a phenomenon that is as rare as bright lights and pickly spangles hitting a country road but I�ve done it! Or at least brokered a start. Regardless, if you get a chance take a peak at these two, for they have brightened my day immeasurably

Also, if you did end up looking up the Trachenberg Family Slideshow Players as instructed, you�ll be able to appreciate this website too. So much fodder! (A wealth if you will.)(A wealth of fodder!)(I�m doing it again.) The old photo�s pages are gorgeous! I think my favourite is of Earl. In the same way I became enamoured with this that site I periodically peruse that documents abandoned mattresses, Found simultaneously fills me with a morbid fascination for discarded carp and a longing to be let in. There�s something entirely beautiful about finding things. Be it vintage clothing, or a knackered rotary phone at a garage sale, or a discarded old pony wheel in a tip somewhere; it runs in the experience of giving them life again, attaching new stories, decorating them again with finger prints, all establish a connection, however tenuous, with an infinite and anonymous past. Does a thing stop being a thing if it has no one to attach and assign �thingness� to it? Like absence of �sound� in the tree falling in a forest when no one hears it? Gah, this is becoming too deep and I�m not ready to feel all tiny and sprinkly and the universe is a test-tube just yet.

I don�t have a site for this because it pains me that one exists, but the CowParade recently hit Manchester, which is like the MooseParade in Toronto. Except there it�s permanent, instead of just a travelling freak show. Giant full scale fibreglass moose scattered about the city and decorated accordingly. Jesus, what a fucking great waste of money. The mayor could have spent our deficit on replacing transit lines, or improving recycling collection, or landscaping the dilapidated water front instead of pilfering the coffers for what amounted to little more than a city-wide arts and crafts show gone wrong, but no. They may as well have draped crocheted doily�s over the downtown core, or piled a load of popsicle sticks together outside City Hall and gluegunned a bunch of pipe cleaners and some googly eyes for all the boost to tourist dollars it produced. A travelling fibreherd is a much better idea. Still stupid though.

The only thing pulling me through this lousy day is knowing that a. old uni flatemate and most delightful Egochick is HERE! She�s popped over for the summer months to fund up for her second (third?) year at studying to be all lawyerly. Only been here a week and already kicking boxes, because she�s not just pretty. She�s tough. And b. Zanna�s gonna be here on SUNDAY! Containing myself is becoming increasingly difficult. I may have to go back to the piquant loaf for a suitably eeeeeew! distraction.

Let�s hope YOUR day is a dynamo.

****meep