buddy holly version two point oh.

I've been having a little fun lately. Yes that's right, the F word. I spent three drunken days and nights at bluesfest dancing outdoors and admiring the hotties on the stage. But before that I attended two weddings, both with my great pal D who is now sitting by the window in his apartment in paris sipping on some diabetes friendly beverage and reading nobokov or some other influential author. D, we all miss you and you've been gone a mere few days.

Here's a shot from us at one of the weddings. I'm wearing this black dress I got at a vintage shop called Ragtime here in Ottawack. I'm obsessed with it. I finally found something to wear it to!



Here I am farming. I've got a full bag of tricks. I can write, I can sing, and I can drive antique tractors. Notice the pink shoes? Yeah...so did a lot of people.



The wedding was a hoot.
Thanks D, for reminding me that I'm still full of life and fun to be around at times, regardless of my health.

So bluesfest came and saw and conquered my weekend. I also got wastey...which for me is a rare occasion nowadays. But it was great! The first night was a good time. Dizzle and I waited in line at the ID tent for a good 20 minutes before we got our bracelets. And another 20 of edgey, anxious, and impatient foot tapping in line for booze. When we approached the server she asked for ID. I only have my BC driver's license on me most of the time and because I didn't have bangs back then, the girl was an outright bitch. She made me pull back my hair. Asked one of the other workers how tall 150cm is and if I looked like I was that short. I thought to myself, shit, if she thinks I'm taller than my ID then there may be hope for me yet! Then Daly ordered his drink and she gave him a kick in the balls. Not literally of course. But I suppose they're all just doing their jobs...

We watched Drake, who was awful...and the Stars..who I've always enjoyed. Because I'm four-foot-eleven I got onto Daly's shoulders to see.



that face he's making is because I was drunkenly falling backwards and he was trying to pose while keeping me alive.

Okay. Saturday proved to be less driven and more low key. I danced in the afternoon at the Whigs show and stared at the bassist Tim. He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen. I'm not a groupie and have never desired to be, but shit...that's one hot musician. I was on the big screen during their show at least a dozen times. It was slightly embarassing. I'm not sure why. My mom said the camera dude has a crush on me...but it could have been that I was moshing alone at 6pm and wearing a very interesting hat. Who knows. Then we went to the comedy tent which was hilaaaarious. And lewis black was performing that night too. Man, he's a riot. check out some of his stand up some day if you have the opportunity.



Finally, sunday I met up with Mikey and we laid on the grass like a couple of hobos while all sorts of acts played on stage. We were both exhausted so we passed out and woke up just in time for me to link up with D and go watch .....

WEEEEEEEEEEEZEEEEEERRRRRRRRRR



We were right up front and Rivers was all over the place, playing the crowd like a winning poker hand...oh and speaking of poker...Anyone else absolutely love their cover of poker face? And rivers' amazing lady gaga wig. Shweet. The vibe out there was unforgettable. I've been to a lot of shows and Weezer puts on one of the best. I loved that they unintentionally mocked mgmt by covering kids. It's as if they were saying "ya, we're getting old, but we still rock the house louder than you new fuckers."

The last song they played buddy holly...it was their encore presentation. And at the very end, they proceeded to mish mash together in a paradise of percussion. All of them jamming on the drum kit. Stellaaaarrr!



Next weekend my BFF and I are headed to lake placid. the dog is coming with. Pictures will be plentiful so stay tuned. And then on my birthday (august 7th) I'm finally getting my first custom tattoo. :) I hate my birthday. I've always hated it. So I suppose I may as well do something rad to make myself hate it a little less and put something permanent on my body.

now I must go be free in the forest with blondie over here. she's due for a pee and a poo and a hike with her beloved.

how do you solve a problem like Maria

Time is measured by the in-between
Of rational would-be's and
Irrevocable have to be's.
And the coffee dates served
To you and your nomad on
Frigid trays.
And the separation
Invites
The despair on the washroom floor
and loss of accountability
by achievement and failure.

Ruled by time
Suffocating to have one life
And eternity, too heavy!
Release the pressure my sweet,
Sweet little tablet.
Steal it--
those hands that say:
a minute has come and gone.
Rid me of agenda and
Replace sensibility with something
Like a Myrmidon who submits
To the chief of the unconscious.

So that
Days become precious
little jewels in the box.
Pick one to wear today
Because
Time forces decision
And choice is foe--
It never gave me the day off to
experience paralysis of
All extremities that cause
All the voices to say
Pick me, do me!

Feed me an abundance of
Freedom and I will only discover
That so long as the hour persists
Liberty remains to be a handicap.

the not-so-inspiring post about inspiration

It's not that I'm against socialites. It's not that I'm against the scene or hate on everyone who's a part of it. What it really comes down to, is now that I've completely withdrawn from it, now that I've taken myself away from the scene as much as possible, I realize that I didn't enjoy the person I was while I was in it. The great parts of me were hidden, while the lesser parts of me were embellished.

A few years ago, I went to dinner at this man Conrad's place in southern Florida. Several Argentinian filmmakers were present. We spent the evening talking about Descartes and Anne Sexton's poetry. About foreign film and the revolutions that took place in history. By the end of the evening, we were all gassed from red wine, so we took the party outside onto the patio. We danced under the stars and hugged the sky. That night, I was the girl I like. I was someone with confidence and inspiration and creativity. I was pleasant and well mannered and fun and completely uninhibited. The girl I was in Ottawa or Whistler's scene is different. And I don't think I have room for the latter anymore.

Last summer while I was away from BC visiting Ottawa, a buddy had posted on my FB wall "What will the Whistler scene ever do without its Queen?". Reflecting on this, I say to myself, I don't want to be the queen of any scene, or anyone, but myself. I want to own who I am, good and bad, and experience everything possible to encourage the little-yet-big personality inside of me. The real one. I have met some intellectual and stimulating people within the scene, both here and in Whis, but collectively, the "scene" and each "group" of people, sum up to a bunch of (dare I say it?)-- FLUFF.

I don't mean to come across as snobby. If people want to drop acid to party instead of to paint, then step right to it. I suppose I've come to realize that I'm too humble to take part in the scene's night life or social life. That I'm just not fierce enough because quite honestly, I'm just too fucking honest. When you're as honest as I am, everything around you suddenly seems so false. Whether this is a tragic flaw or a great gift, I have yet to figure out, but I know that I don't need social status to be popular, a thousand photos of me on FB to be seen, or a loud attitude in a bar to be heard. All I need is the true me and an outlet...and of course, my outlet is writing.

Okay, so now that everyone thinks I'm a mass hater...Let me express what I DO love!

I've discovered how much I absolutely adore nature. That I'd rather be barefoot by the lake dancing to a friend's acoustic guitar, than stuffed in a bar with mad bass pumping into my ear drums. I prefer to be outside where everything is alive, than inside, mimicking everyone around me and behaving "accordingly." I like boat shoes instead of heels. I do the things I do because I like them. Not because it's trendy. I substitute milk with soy for the same reason. I have a vegetable garden in my yard because I'd rather know where my veggies come from, not because I'm taking part in the hundred mile diet. I love Nestle. She's the sweetest little pup ever. We've been going on these grand hikes together and getting lost and stuck in the rain.On those days I don't even hide from the rain, I twirl in it! There's something so pure about being vulnerable to nature. Something so sincere about working for nature, instead of making it work for you.

I haven't the slightest clue what the point of this post is. I suppose I just got home from my best friend Ashley Dawn's apartment (see her blog link on my page) and every time her and I get together, we can't shut up about the things that inspire us. I simply wanted to get all of this out before the thoughts dissolved into my frantic mind. I'm such a scatter brain these days.

Oh yes and Bertha is back on the road. She's so perdy. She's got a new windshield!

I can't believe that girl has taken me to Cannmore and back to whis, and whis to Ottawa. She just won't die.