2004-04-23..11:43 a.m.

Greetings from Trogladyte Island, where it is greying and a bit cloudy and I am being held hostage.

Wednesday�s interview with Eberg, an Icelandic experi-pop songster, has been postponed until next week due to the dude wanting to do it after his sound check and due to my having to be stationed at the door to ensure he gets paid instead. Musicians are a funny breed. There was much faffage and noodling with the opening support, which made any stab at things like punctuality were immediately kicked out the window like some sorry spud on the wrong side of Mel�s Kung Fu ballet. They pottered for an hour over their soundcheck, tapping and stamping and poking things. They middled and fiddled over their keyboard, because apparently it does take four people to tuck it in and shut the locks, and flirted with Eberg who was too polite to say, Dudette. Get the fuck off the stage, I need to set up.

[AN ASIDE: most of our consultants work from home, very rarely coming into the office. This might well explain why �Lucy� sidles up to the front door, peers uncertainly over her shoulder, before bolting down the hall at a run. She�s done this before. It makes me wonder what I�m missing, or if she�s just trying to inject a little bit of surrealism into my everyday. Because if she is, that�s not gonna cut it. I need more than that, baby.]

Went to the Rats last night after the carnal faffage stopped to see the Monster Crush and give him a two-week old copy NOW magazine (the best Toronto free weekly out there) and some vegan cake for birthday numminess and peakiness removal. Bit strange as first time I�ve seen him since Sunday, but probably all is well and I�m just projecting my own freak-out on him.

Feeling quite rough-like and rambly for days now. Emo Mama seems to have taken over, and I dreamt last night that one of my old co-editors had ditched the punky and lesbian for the New Age and pregnant. Up too late with the adultery and the tubercular sheet that�s bullying my cilia. I need to stop smoking, but part of me (the part that�s stupid) thinks it�s a dumb idea because smoking is SO MUCH COOLER than not. I need to stop having an affair, but part of me (the part that�s stupid) thinks it�s a dumb idea because the sex is SO GOOD. I need to stop listening to the part of me that�s stupid.

This week I�ve spent two days carnally involved with someone I shouldn�t be, and one night trying not to wake the one I�m batshitty about with my salty machine gun hacking. Quite surprisingly, a great deal of tenderness was unveiled as a result of the constant gasping through suffocation. He told me to just cough, because I�d feel better and to not worry about him; I worried and went and slept on the couch for a bit so I didn�t disturb him; he groped for my hip as soon as I returned and held it there; when I left I kissed him on the cheek and he rolled up to face me, and with a slow lazy finger pointed to his other cheek and then to his lips. I must be crazy.

[ANOTHER ASIDE: I am horny as all fuck today. I mean seriously so. I just want to touch everything and stick things in my mouth so I can taste them. Every little thing sets me writhing silently, slinking hippily down corridors, and gazing salaciously into male eyes. Even Graham Ewing�s sixty-year old smile has become sixxxty. I have just sent this letter to he who bestowed such distracting randiness upon me:

Dear Follow Adulterer,

I wish to register a complaint. Since using your product yesterday evening, I have been experiencing a number of unwarranted side effects that are now affecting my performance at work. They are as follows:

� Pattern bruising

� Inability to concentrate

� Extreme sensitivity

� Regular dampness

� Involuntarily aggressive gazing into male eyes

� A feeling as though fingers are softly grazing the nape of my neck

� A desire to put things in my mouth to just see how they feel on my tongue

� Unfulfilled fantasies of being pushed against walls, stretched across desks, and pressed up against uncurtained windows while a grey eyed stranger fucks me gently.

Had I known of these effects, I do believe I would not have invested my time and energy investigating your product. I am seeking immediate compensation for all damages.

Yours regretfully,

Meep Bounty (Ms.)

With any luck, that�ll show him.]

Have you heard of Neko Case? Luther Wright and the Wrongs? The Sadies? What do you think of hedgehogs? Or Hungry Hungry Hippo�s? Are you tinny or woody? Do you doodle? Have you ever looked at your shoes and rather wish your feet were bare and you were using your toes to pulls up tufts of grass on an idle summer afternoon right before it rains? I ask you now, because I�m sure to forget later. Don�t feel obliged to answer now. Such an in-depth questionnaire requires serious consideration.