chance the rapper-the be encouraged tour

“my mom says in arabic that when it’s raining and sunny, rats are getting married”

chance got finer.

it started innocently enough-i noticed that the show got rescheduled to the day that my season boo was coming to my home for the first time, and casually texted her about it, though she was just coming off of seeing him at the palace of auburn hills (yes, i am sad that i’ll prolly never see the pistons play there).

we had a lovely day of making soup and working on projects, separately and together, napping and watching many monsoons from my window. we made references to going to the show all day, but we both had things to do and, well.

around 5pm, we were called by carbs, and since she’s a vegan who hasn’t yet experienced doomie‘s (propagandistic comics and all), we decided to walk between showers the two now lovely-scented parkdale streets that separate me and the resto. we paid our respects to the lovely guard dog with a fierce underbite in the bougie flower shop, and settled into one of the window booths. i did a double-take in time and space when a pianist that i knew almost a decade ago in montreal walked past and we caught up for a minute before i just accepted that my hair would be smelling like fried.

but delicious mac and cheese (with mushrooms) and deep fried oreos later, we were full and happy and ready to make our way towards a very ominous cloud to see this guy. considering that it was a reschedule, it was pretty breezy to get a ticket.

the bag check should’ve been foreshadowing, but we were high and happy and made it through lightning and humidity and the dj’s name was oreo and there numbers and signs everywhere.

and the rapper was perfect-he was sounding right and looking right and his energy is amazing, if a bit too religious in that way that american artists get that make it a bit uncomfortable to sing along to sometimes. the special effects blended right in with mother nature’s downpour, and even though we were standing in sponges (i have yet to check on the canvas shoes that i left outside, but if someone took them-good riddance), it was beauty-full to be dancing in the rain.

the subsequent push to get to bags that was longer than the concert by a duration of 1.5 x? not so fun. but i suppose this is what happens when you throw 3000+ bags onto the floor and expect people to wait in line and retrieve them when it’s been pouring rain all night.

but it was hilarious to be amongst the high school kids budging the line and that one dood who “had to tutor french at 9am” and was feeling all the feelings over it. it was extra hilarious because he butt into the line, and then was lamenting this, and figured out 25 minutes later that it was the bag line and not the line to leave.

and canadians are hella polite, yo. i’m surprised that there was no riots, especially with all those bored white people excited about a “hype” rap show ready to fight garbage cans and shit.

based on the “blessings” that came down, i’m not sure what “praises” went up, but congrats to all the rats that celebrated their nuptials yesterday-it was an honour to be in your presence.


burdock/the lonsdales

“luther vandross over here”

i can’t say enough about my favourite multi-instrumental sibling duo, the lonsdales. it’s been lovely to see them blossom on stage this summer, and i’m about to see them in back to back shows-if you’re reading this, it’s not too late-meet me at holy oak in half an hour.

also because of eirene, i have a new favourite music venue in this town-the intimate burdock with the great sound, it reminds me of lucky bar in victoria over a decade ago, when i first saw k-os, before he became a drunk and started throwing keyboards at people.

in a moment of synchronicity, i caught up with some montrill/vancougar folks last night after work with all of my library books and cj‘s sourdough loaves. i also got to see shaemara, whose posters i see all over town and whose accessories i’ve coveted since she first walked into the store with her fur donut. she has quite a stage presence and voice, and i’m sure i’ll see her around more.

and jeanette king (formerly of ponderosa) and the starfish were another delight-my favourite song was 16, about the arbutus bus-i’m sure the drama of the track is deserving somehow. they’ve also made it onto the bill tonight so i’ll get a back to back double feature.

i’m trying to watch the last episode of season five of oz before i go, but i’ma have to finish it when i get back.

to the musics!

this metrotextual morning

“i woke up, feeling brand new”

a true friend comes when you call, even if you haven’t spoken in a minute, holds space to support you, offers an out and a getaway car in case you want to fuck the whole thing and go eat crepes, and informs you after your first stand-up performance in a club that it was a full moon in virgo.


it figures. and yes, i took it to polio, malaria and domestic violence in a teeny bar full of people drinking (shoutout to not my dog for running the night and so graciously giving us so many spots). it was nice to get out of my own head and hear some jokes that haven’t been the same ones my classmates have been telling for the past 8 weeks. there were some celebs (of the toronto comedy world) there, and even a cassanova that i met from an old co-worker.

after the jokes, we caught up over noodles-choo choo train resto-bless your freakin’ heart. you’ve been the setting to so many of my best toronto encounters, including the jumpoff to the realization that i really wanted to live here. note to self-get contact lens solution to make home more inviting.

i woke up willingly for the first time in a long time, and the sun was shining. when i arrived at dufferin station, it was kind of like the apocalypse with people streaming out of the station due to a fire at lansdowne, and even thought it was after 8am, i figured that walking the two stations above ground wouldn’t set me back that far, and why not continue my great morning with some brisk exercise. it was sunny, and there’s something about all those people being above ground on bloor, the same ones that you’d see everyday but not even look at because you’re underground, that was really beauty-full. we were all signs of life, signs of choices, signs of being collectively fucked by the ttc, but we all got to where we were going, and as far as i know, it was not a very serious fire.

i jumped on the symington bus because it was there, and spoke to some lovely ladies about the morning, and one of them shared that she thought that the 40 was so much more frequent, which was interesting because waiting for the 40, i always see at least 5 symington buses pass by, most of them empty, so it truly is all about perspective.

i’m happy to say that things are looking up. my baby arrives today, and although i’m still ecstatic that the course will be over soon, i’m also looking forward to that performance a bit too. who knows, maybe my team will beat the hornets tonight, too.

jv-i see you. just like it took until this point in the season last year for me to be on board for lowry, i take my hat off to you, big science. way to make a lane for lebron to show himself further as the player and human that he truly is.

on a tuesday

it’s been a minute. i must say that this stand-up course has been taking a lot of my energy. that, and the pace at which i’ve been living and loving life. it’s been hard to come back from being completely spoiled in nyc, and you know, cooking my own breakfast and shit. but back to life, back to reality. there’s only one class before our performance, and i think i’m getting more relaxed because after that, it’s over. this doesn’t mean that i’ve been feeling any less guilt over my level of procrastination when it comes to preparing for class, but i have developed a kind of semi-regular routine when it comes to the time before.

i don’t sleep in after the radio show, rather i get up at the regular time to get my weekly coffee (second cup maple latte tuesday special, i see you!) early enough so that i have enough time to work it through my system, head to the scadding court ice rink to skate with the one old man who is keeping fit on tuesdays. i must’ve needed that skate, as i decided to do my check-in as a one-minute poem and make my jokes less personal because they’re not funny yet, they’re still tragic. i didn’t seem to notice until after i got off the ice that my feet were frozen almost to the point of hypothermia and they were actually burning, like my eyeballs used to in montreal when the water in them froze in the winter.

i defrosted in the sanderson library, one of my favourite branches, even though the washroom always smells like pee, even though no pee is visible, it’s like how mcdonald’s workers never can get the smell of fried out of their skin and hair. there’s a weird message written on the hand dryer there about seeing and police, and every time i look at it, i see something else.

dundas and bathurst is a good corner.

libraries used: sanderson, bloor & gladstone, annette

watching: six feet under-season one

duolingo progress: portuguese level 12, 2664 lingots

happy metrotextual new year!

“if we wanted fanfare, we would’ve joined the circus”

“do sex, who are you, borat?”

“you say more inappropriate things than appropriate ones”

so, we’re almost a week late, have decided that this newly renovated branch (brentwood) will be our office, and have gone back to the movies-literally. the holidaze begat the first generation of my fabric pigs-the holiday orphans, a collection that culminated in a giant pig to welcome a special child and the remaining pigs all adopted into a wonder-full family. my second generation is the creation of a lineage of single parents. a scramble across all of the technology that i own led to a return to future shop of the monitor that was a bandaid fix (that money allowed me to purchase a newly more expensive bus pass) and the burial of my first laptop. i decided not to get a tablet (thanks, chi 4 for sending me some money that i will apply to a laptop at some point) and am enjoying the clear desk. i saw four movies in the space of a week (django, this is 40, the silver lining playbook, and argo). i have noticed that movies are getting long again, folks are going to the movies, and it is no longer the custom to shut the fuck up whilst watching movies. this is encouraging to quell the voices that chatter about books becoming obsolete-if it hasn’t worked yet for movies or music, the ancient form of bound book is here to stay! i’m going to revamp the look and content of this blog, do my taxes (i know, i know), sew so many damn pigs i may give myself carpal tunnel, and actually write the book that i’ve been dreaming of. yep. i said it on the innernets, so that makes it real. all in the 28minute sessions that these express stations allow here at the toronto public library. here we go…..

#82-marydale-october 12, 2012

“Donald was a juice box with a terrible attitude.”

and, done. i was hooked from this first line of highly inappropriate tales for young people by douglas coupland (his best work yet) and graham roumieu (bigfoot forever!), though the jury’s out on whether it was the text or the drawing of the breakdown of donald’s contents (a little bit of juice, a little bit of added sugars, and 85% PURE EVIL). this book is a true canadian treasure of a collaboration and my stumbling upon it in this darling branch that is also found in a mall is the reason that i’m visiting all these libraries. i usually can’t resist the dvd collections, and this one was no exception, though because i didn’t have a lot of books/holds on my home shelf, i decided to stroll the fiction aisles alphabetically and walked away with this gem, last year’s OLA evergreen winner emma donahue’s room, and where we have to go by lauren kirshner. this visit was a request by the lovely lady kansas, who came to meet me and take me back to his apartment for carbs and songs, as well as to show off his hand-made latest armadillo shoes. my heart was warmed by the talent and love that is toronto, and this sentiment continued that night at theatre passe-muraille, as i volunteered as an usher (recruited from the performance that i did there last month) for the cn tower show-a show about loving toronto and forced participation (from which we received a two-minute portrait of dubious quality done by one of the stars). the best was running into belladonna, a spirit i’ve encountered about five times over the past decade at exactly the right time. this night, she took my breath away flinging me around the “dancefloor” and dipping me. i heart toronto.