Would You Like To Know More?

YOU

That is so provincial

ME

But I like provincial

YOU

You can't even see a decent opera here.

ME

Yeah. That is a problem.

****************************************

I had my palm read yesterday by a girl at school who is interested in that sort of thing. She was taken aback by the depth, quantity and complicated patterns of my palms. She said I was an old soul, that I have been around for a long time, but that I am also fundamentally unable to get onboard %100 with anything. She also said my I have two heart lines that run parallel but very close to one another, suggestive of my deep but, let's say plentiful?, loves.

I have also been thinking a lot about where I want to live and what I want to do (which my palm reader said will always be a hard decision for me). Things are so good with The Russian that I can't help thinking of the future and how we can manage to be in the same one. Can I really find a reasonably well paying job that I will like, that I will be good at, here in Montreal? I hope so. Sometimes I think that I would have been happier if I had been born a few generations ago. I was processing a box in a fonds I am working on at the Gay Archives, and there were these mock-ups of pamphlets and publications and I thought, I am really more of a cut and paste girl, then someone who has to learn Illustrator or InDesign. But meanwhile, I really want to be able to learn web design and EAD coding because I think online archives and online finding aids are the only way to keep archives relevant.

Bby and I went to Bofinger for pulled pork and bbq chicken last night. Dang, that place is tasty. Bby was so cute: the counterperson asks for your name to keep track of your order, and she replied "I'm Adele, what's your name?" and he said "Steve. I rarely get asked that." I think he was pretty touched.

I'm going to take it easy tonight. Have Valentine's Breakfast (heart shaped eggs!) at Bby's with the Russian and P tomorrow morning, then chillin with la Armenian, and I have had a busy week. The Russian is making dinner, and I just want to have a bath, and read, maybe watch a movie. Though not anything like The Scarlet Empress, which seemed like a farce to me.



Oh, and tried this recipe for the ACA bakesale: Bacon and Chocolate Chip Cookies. It was a hit!

What is the difference between a goal and an objective?

THE ROBOT

But I don't need your goofy 3-D glasses! I'm a robot!

CINEMA EMPLOYEE

It's policy. Management requires it.

THE ROBOT

Let me see your manager, then.

CINEMA EMPLOYEE

I'm sorry, Sir, the managers are in a strategic planning meeting for the next three days.

************************************

So I'm going to Chicago onthe 21st. With The Russian (which ma belle ptite Armenienne told me is how she and Jessica Rabbit referred to him as well). I think it is going to be fun. But also stressful. He seems to have planned every moment of our time, which includes a lot of dinners with people I don't know but who when I google them, turn up a lot of hits. This automatically intimidates me, which is silly, but sometimes I am silly. I am also more of a lone wolf kind of traveler. I like to visit places, not people. Unless I am going to visit people. We also have to sleep on a couch at his friend's apartment which he shares with his girlfriend, so no privacy or alone time for the whole 5 days. But...lots of great art, lots of interesting architecture, the zoo, and we are traveling together! Pretty damn couple-y.

We have also been talking a lot about moving in together, which seems bananas to me. But, like anything, the more I talk about it, the closer and more tangible it becomes. It would be crazy, though. I will just be back form Spain, out of school for the first time in 20 years, looking for job, nowhere to live, and broke, broke, broke. In an economic crisis. Not really the context I imagined when I imagined moving in with someone. Play it, bass playa.

In any case, I should be working on a paper which is due tomorrow and which was the inspiration for the scene above. I have to provide an organization with a strategic plan with goals and objectives which I then translate into operational plans. I am kind of unsure what that means, exactly, but it is depressing to think that I am required to do this. That feeling of not quite getting the question happened to me yesterday when I was writing an online exam for an archivist job at Library and Archives Canada:

Question 1. (Knowledge of the general trends of the evolution of Canadian society). Former Dominion Archivist, Sir Arthur Doughty wrote that "Of all our national assets, Archives are the most precious; they are the gift of one generation to another and the extent of our care of them marks the extent of our civilization."Write a short essay which examines one general theme that you know well in the evolution of Canadian society and explain how your understanding of that theme has been influenced by the preservation of archival records.

What? What is a general theme in the evolution of Canadian society? I stared at the screen for quite some time, wrote the second essay question and stared some more. The Russian, over g-chat, suggested multiculturalism, so I went with it, but...

We'll see.

The Russian also forwarded me this today:

Thursday Report

YOU

I want to go to the zoo.

ME

I see. Are you watching porn?

YOU

I love you. And yes.

*************************************

Although I usually make these little scenes up, this one up here is f'real. Except for the 'and yes' part. The Russian was in actual fact reading Stranger in a Strange Land. It's strange (haha), I lent him that book because I remember liking it so much, but he talks about these parts, and I don't remember any of them. I wonder if your brain just refuses to keep everything after a while. Or you have to train it with new things to take advantage of the unused space. Like, if you make art, you have to start learning bookkeeping, or your brains will atrophy.

It's been a long time since I posted. Mostly because I have been pretty happy, and if there ain't no drama, what the hell is there to write about. But then I thought, that is not the way it should be, and also, boys aren't the be all, end all of everything, I have other things to talk about, don't I? Yet, I think I have to scratch that, because I have had some anxiety laden events whack me over the last couple of weeks, but I don't feel anxious about them. I feel more anxious about not having any money and finding a job when I graduate than anything else.

I had breakfast with my mom yesterday and I voiced some of my insecurities, of which I have many and new ones seem to be cropping up all the time, about my abilities and qualifications. I have this feeling that I am not really all that bad at anything, but I am not really great at anything, and more importantly, not passionate about anything the way I would like to be. That scares me. But I can't let those feeling paralyze me, or sap me either.

I have been seeing the pretty Armenian I spoke of in an earlier post, and I like her very much. So far, this has not affected the Russian and I, even though I keep on asking him, is it ok? does this make you feel strange? how do you feel now? His responses are always encouraging and sometimes kind of gross. We ran into her on the metro the other day and had a pleasantly tension filled ride, the three of us. I like her mobile mouth.

What else? The Russian and I went to the opera last weekend, saw Verdi's Macbeth, was very difficult for me to stay awake. Not because I don't like opera (though I don't like it all that much), but because it was really horrible, all around. Went to a lecture given by John Ralston Saul on Tuesday. I thought he was smarmy, brimming with rhetoric and not much else, but then...I like what he had to say about the value of orality, it is an interesting problem to consider, especially form an archival point of view, which is so reliant on the record. It is difficult to imagine a memory of a voice, or the phenomenon of a voice speaking to open ears listening having more value then the court stenographer's record of it, and yet it should, I think. And inserting this idea into our legal system, for example? What a shift. Also, I should probably have read his books.

Bebito and I had dinner tonight, we have not seen each other in a while. Was overwhelmed by love when she came into the lounge at school. And I think that is a nice place to end off, yes? Yes. And maybe this:

No Dead Sharks Allowed

DAY-Ext.

ME

My brain hurts.

YOU

I know.

ME

How do you know?

YOU

I cut out half of it in your sleep last night and put it with mine.

****************************************

As the Russian is out having a beer with someone with the unlikely name of Tristana, I will take the time to update my blog before I go all the way to Outremont to spend his last night in Montreal with him.

But I am being unfair. We have been very happy for the past couple of weeks. We are a couple. We are happy in coupledom. And so there is little drama to share. Mainly good things, all around. These good things include: great walk on the mountain last Saturday before the rain turned everything to glass, watching both versions of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I prefer the child actors in the first, and the back story for WW in the new one is very lame. I think there is too much CGI in the new one as well; it is a factory, and should look like one, very physical and tangible, instead of super realistic. Both Gene Wilder and Johnny Depp are pretty incredible though. I liked how it is a children's movie where the main character does not really like children. Hmmmm, what else? Went out to dinner at the Burgundy Lion last night. Managed to break a salt shaker and almost set the tablecloth on fire when I knocked over the candle, and dripped wax on my jacket and bag. We also went swimming, and the Russian attempted to teach me the front crawl, badly, but with gusto. Babay has a new love interest which I am sure everyone has read about. That Little V is a little green pleases me to no end. It is very exciting, and I am glad I was there to witness the birth of something with potential. I have finished school, though went out with a whimper of fury because of some boneheads in my KM group. Arseholes. I have secured a practicum for next semester at the Quebec Gay Archives, where I will be creating a finding aid, at last. One of the most basic archival tools and I have to wait until my last semester at school to really do one. Ooooo, got a fucking awesome Christmas present for Christine, which I am really excited to give to her. I rarely see things where I think, oh, perfect! but it happened just in time for Christmas. Apologies to the rest of the fam will be in order, cause their presents will pale.

Went out dancing on Saturday and felt like a turd next to all these ugly/pretty girls in high waisted American Apparel skirts and loose fitting tank tops. I was in jeans and longjohns with my big winter boots and a tshirt. But I was with my two of my favourite peeps from library school, and the music was unknown but good, so we boogied. I like to boogie.

The Russian has been tossing around moving in together, which is freaking me out a little, but I like the thought and I think he really is happy with me, and I am with him. It seems a little unbelievable, and that keeps me from being able to imagine the way that he does, but I am also ok with that feeling. In a weird way, it tells me I am in something real, that works, that is in motion (none of Woody Allen's dead sharks here- it's a great scene, about 3:50 min in). I am going to miss him while he is gone (for a few weeks, to see his family in Calgary and his friend in San Francisco).

I have really stuck to my mantra. I am playing it, bass playa. I can't wait until I am done working this week and I can be up in St-Adele. I can read, and watch all the movies I haven't had time and energy to watch. I can walk and cook. It's going to be great!

Arrrrrrr!

EVENING-Int.

SUKIYAKI CASHIER

On twenty? 12.89 is your change.

PIRATE

Thanks.

SUKIYAKI CASHIER

Nice hat.

*****************************************************

This guy was just too awesome not to post. But honestly, I have rarely felt as boring as I do tonight. I have absolutely nothing to say of interest, unless anyone wants to hear about how to break down and build Dewey Decimal Classification numbers, which, honestly, I couldn't even do, because I never go to Cataloguing class. I hope there aren't too many Dewey questions on my exam on Tuesday. Will I finish my metadata essay tonight? Here's hoping. What in the hell am I doing with my life? I want to move to Formentera and write movie reviews and have babies.

However, the Russian is excellent, besides the stilted non conversation we just had (due to my lack of anything to say). Don't know how it happened, but hope it continues along in this way.

Head Above Water

NIGHT-Int.

MAMERE 1

(breaststroking)

I could not believe he was unaware of how uncomfortable I was. All I could think of was Depends and whether I would be able to pull down my hose before I, you know, started going. And there's Bill, chomping on his endive salad, regaling me with a story about some goddam raccoon in his carport, not letting me get a word in edgewise.

MAMERE 2

(breaststroking)

And he didn't even notice? Glaucoma?...Oh, this is tougher than it used to be. Let's pause after this lap.

MAMERE 1

(breathing heavily)

At least some things get easier.

********************************************

Gosh, I have so many things to write about because I haven't written in so long and so much school work to do that I have no time to write. You see the dilemma. But I am going to go swimming tonight, as it was so much fun last week. It is hard for me to keep my head above water, but it feels good.

It was my sister's birthday last week, and Sabina's last weekend here, so we spent a lot of time together, which was good. Saturday, we ate a lot of lovely food and talked. Bby came with news that Vinnie is a Rhodes scholar now (holy shiat, ps). I said goodbye to Finnie, but it has been so good with her this visit that I wasn't sad when she left, because we were in such a good place, so safe.

J was talking about that word, good, that it has many imposters but when something is good, there is really no other word for it. I have had, then, a good week. Last Sunday I tracked down a bowtie for the Russian, not the bowtie (because some dillhole bought it SUNDAY MORNING before I got there...the thing had been hanging on the racks for months and the day I go to get it, it's gone). I was so peeved. I searched for a cream coloured bowtie for hours, not even because I wanted to get it for the Russian, but more because it was driving me insane!I was pleased with the one I found and I think the Russian is too. He wore it to the CCA opening and the symphony the next day.

The CCA opening was fun, Christine did myhair and make-up, and besides losing my shit at a taxi company and arriving late, it was a lovely evening. The show is very trendy and fun, with dozens of small projects about how people interact with their urban environment. My favourite project was these velour leisure suits which had foam incorporated into them in order for them to act as cusions when you are sitting in four particular spots around LA. As in the foam is cut to take into account arm rests of a particular public bench, for example. I can't remember what they are called, but I will post it when I find it online. The crowd was also trendy and fun, but not as high fashion as the last one of these things I went to. The Russian was lovely in his bowtie.

The pretty Armenian, Nai, was there with Jessica Rabbit. Bby was the purrrrrrrfect wingman and I ended up being completely straightforward, and telling Nai that I think she is lovely, I would really like to see her again, and would she be interested. She asked about my status with the Russian, which I tried to explain, but mainly, we got along swimmingly and I cannot wait to see her again. I called her last night and had to leave a message with her mother!?, but we'll see.

The Russian was off doing private function things for most of the evening, but I called him to tell him about my success with Nai (who he also likes) and we met for a drink. He told me that he was serious about me. I ordered some drinks. I told him about my evening and we spoke quietly into each other's ears and then went back to his place...

Wednesday night, we went to the MSO. The Debussy was lovely, the Bartok cartoonish and the Beethoven captivating. I know nothing about classical music but it was lovely. There was a pretty lesbian who was the only other person other than the Russian wearing a bowtie, and we tried to track her down during intermission but she eluded us. The Russian held my hand for the whole concert and told me how pretty I looked. He also said I reminded him of his mother, twice, which was somewhat disturbing, but I think, important to him. A woman approached us on the metro platform to tell me how lovely my dress was, and how pretty I looked. I beamed. He took the metro with me, although it was faster for him to take the bus. When he got off, I saw him watching me from the middle of the platform until I rolled away.

All in all, I am a little bit on top of the world. I feel reckless. I know that everyone thinks this thing will land me flat on my arse, and I know that is a real possibility. But I am treading water and instead of feeling exhausted, I feel rejuvenated. I know the Russian means what he says, and I know it could change or shift and then he would mean that too, but I am letting it happen, bass playa.

Play it, Bass Player

DAY, Ext.

ME

blah blah blah..Okay, I mean , I suppose the bottom line is that I want you in my life, and even with all of these considerations and reservations, I think I will just end up playing it as it lays, going with the flow...blah, blah, blah

YOU

Ok

ME

That's it?

********************************************

So much mental space. So many narratives written in my head. This Wordle (thanks Babay) is pretty telling:

Could I be more obsessed! Could I be more self-deluded? WANT RUSSIAN. The wordle indexing does not lie. But still, frustrating that I can write as many stories with him co-star as I want, but he will never be that, not the way he appears in my head. He is his own person. Makes me feel alone, a little. Not that you want a life size doll to speak words you have written for them, but it is weird to think about how far apart people are from each other, how easily they misunderstand one another.

Mostly because sometimes I feel very close. Like with Babay last night. We tried to eat at Bofinger, where the Russian and I ate last week, but it was closed. We ate bad French food instead. The chicken cordon bleu was salty and dry. The fettucine was oily and awesome and reminded me of the kind of food I would make for my after school 'snack' when I was in elementary and high school. The best part of the meal was the celery soup (little salty), the salad dressing (plain) and the bread (delicious). Never a good sign when the soup is better than the meal. But I liked the paper tablecloths, and the funny people who were eating there, as if they were eating good French food. Swishing their wine around in their mouths and giving comments to the waiter. And an excellent visit to Chapters, where we answered a survey, which contrary to the natural order of things, made me laugh. I enjoyed giving the same answers as Babay simultaneously.

Am starving! I'm going to eat all the muffins I made the other day, smothered in butter. Just smothered.