New York City... December 2009

I had a really great time in New York City. I loved the busyness of the city, and the lack of pretense that goes with that. If you're busy doing, you probably don't have time to boast about it. I don't have specific examples of this, you just have to visit the city and see for yourself.

I like to think that I'm not always this annoying, but I'm hooked and will probably obsess about New York for another week or so. I was checking out a Facebook NYC fan page, and someone wrote "The best thing about waiting at a red light is the opportunity to check out all the beautiful surroundings and all of the interesting people that cross in front of you." BUT...... nobody really waits, do they? They just go with the pulse of the traffic. I loved learning how to cross streets organically in NYC.

NYC blocks are really short, so a little walking gets you a long way. The streets are narrow, many are one-way, and from what I could tell, there are no alleys, which explains why we frequently passed by street corners that held stacks of trash to be picked up by the city – here, that trash goes into dumpsters in the alleys.

We spent a good chunk of our time in Times Square, because 1) that's where we stayed, 2) we had a couple of shows to see (West Side Story, Freddy Cole at Birdland, and standup at Caroline's), and 3) it WAS generally pretty shiny and beautiful in its way. But like I said, you get pretty far walking in NYC, and now that I'm able to look back and cross-reference the places we found with neighbourhood nicknames, I see that we also got out to the East Village, Hell's Kitchen, the Lower East Side, and others. One night, Emm had a late-night wander in Chelsea while I stayed home, and one day while Emm stayed home, I had a late-morning wander in Central Park. All in all, for me the 5 days were a good appy, and all things indicate that NYC is a place I should try to visit regularly.

Speaking of appys.... If you're hungry, come to NYC. Emm and I aren't the most compatible in terms of dining, but we did okay together. (Kathy, we didn't get in ANY of your suggestions, but your list will remain tucked inside my guidebook for future visits.) We didn't go to any high-end restaurants, and I actually never did get my slice of pizza, I just never felt like eating pizza I guess, but I did have the knish that I promised I would have. James, yes, Schimmels knish is very, VERY good, and the joint is fabulously classic and kitschy, it was perfect , except for the fact that they wouldn't let us keep our bill as a souvenir (I had to photograph it instead). Everywhere that we went served portions that were ridiculously large, and really not all that expensive. And mostly good.

Night 1: Friday, December 25th
We got to the Amsterdam Court Hotel around midnight, dropped off our things in our dodgy 1st-floor room, which featured a window that opened to a storage room. The room was barely big enough to walk in, and the bathroom sadly had nothing in the way of a vanity, which just won't do for two women sharing a space... so I took the cover off of the ironing board and placed it in the bathroom, half on the floor and half in the tub. That would work. We went out for a wander around the neighbourhood looking for somewhere to get a bite to eat. We ended up at the Westway Diner (Hell's Kitchen, maybe a 10 minute walk from our hotel), which was recommended by a beat cop that I decided to poll. It was exactly what you'd expect from a 24-hour diner. We happily eavesdropped on the conversation that was going on in the booth across from ours, nothing too exciting but trimmed with the NY accent that we were hoping to hear. My slice of banana cream pie was the size of my head. And the loo was stainless steel from top to bottom, and when I went in for a visit, it had just been hosed down. Literally. I was charmed.

We wandered around Hell's Kitchen, popping into markets and making mental notes of shops and restaurants that we'd check out another day, and eventually found our way back into the bright lights and busy vibe of Times Square. By 4AM, we were back in our weird little nook at the back of Amsterdam Court, listening to angry water pipes and other unfamiliar horror-movie sounds. And we slept.

Day 1: Saturday, December 26th
We asked to switch to another room, and were given a double on the 7th floor. Much better. The window opened to the outside, granted our view was out to other highrises, but at least we got light. And no more horror-movie sounds, and no more ironing board in the tub!

We went out looking for a bakery that we smelled on 9th Avenue the night before. (That's Avenoo, not Avenyoo...) And we stumbled upon Kashkaval instead, a Mediterranean wine and cheese bar, and decided to pop in for brunch. There is a deli in the front, with cheeses and salads and potatoes and sausages and pastries, which is what caught our attention. We were seated at the back of the restaurant, a rustic, dimly lit nook with maybe 10 tables, very intimate, with warm woods and exposed brick walls. We were there around noon on Boxing Day, our first day in New York, and there was only 1 or 2 other tables seated, and maybe 1 or 2 deli stop-ins, I assume they're busier when it's not holiday season. Really yummy brunch, especially the turkey sausage and potatoes, my only complaint was that the waitress didn't quite understand what I was after when I asked her to wrap my leftovers in a pita so I could take them with me and eat them later (ie: no utensils required) – she missed the pita.

I needed to buy a pair of jeans, so we walked around trying to find somewhere to do a little shopping. But neither of us actually came to New York with shopping in mind, so we were really ill-prepared for such an excursion. We didn't know where to go! And, it turned out that this walkabout would occur during one of the rainiest days I've ever experienced; by the time we found a shop called Lord & Taylor, we were both completely drenched, and cold. But I got my jeans, on sale. So it was worth it, right? This would be the only shopping trip for us during this trip. We then went looking for coffee that was NOT Starbucks, had no luck but got progressively wetter and wetter until we finally decided to just go hard and make it mall day; we stopped for soup and salad in a she-she restauarant/cafe thingy that was smack dab in the middle of a mall. I can't remember what it was called, but we sat at the bar, I had a very good americano and yummy roast chicken soup with veggies and dumplings, and Emm had a roasted beet salad. In the middle of a mall.

That night, we went to see The Freddy Cole Quartet at the legendary Birdland jazz club. Freddy Cole is brother to Nat King Cole. To listen to him sing, you would never guess this connection; Freddy's voice is his own, rich and rough, not smooth like that of his brother. To see him smile however, you would spot the connection immediately, they have the same cheekbones and twinkly eyes once the smiling starts. Freddy was both commanding and playful, and the audience was receptive. I felt like I had gone back to a time that I can only dream about, in the darkened room with the sound of the high hat brushing against the soft murmer of quiet chatter and ice dancing in raised glasses. Like Freddy sang, throw another pillow on the floor, indeed...

Day 2: Sunday, December 27th
The sun is shining, and any hint of the rain from the night before is now just a memory. Emm and I were going to see one of my favourite shows, West Side Story, at the Palace Theatre, but Emm wasn't feeling well and she ended up spending the day in bed. I got up early and went to see the Dakota and Strawberry Fields in Central Park. I will need to do my research next time – I'm not sure if you are actually allowed to go into the Dakota, but I really would have liked to. Oh well, I'll have to say hello to Yoko Ono and to Rosemary and her baby next time. The exterior of the building is gorgeous, with wrought iron sculptures of what I think is Neptune surrounded by sea monsters adorning the gate that wraps around the building. Across the street is Central Park; walk a little ways down the immediate path and you find yourself at Strawberry Fields, a memorial site for John Lennon, and others. There are several benches lined up along either side of the pathway through the area, and signs posted that name this as a place of peace and quiet, and request that people refrain from playing musical instruments and from listening to radios without using headphones. And they're also not to feed the animals, participate in sporting or recreation events, roller blade, ride bikes, or have their dogs off leash. However, there is no mention of tourist photography; when I was there, there were about 30+ people all trying to get the same photograph of themselves and each other – Persons X-Y-Z, all kneeling at the head of the Imagine monument, looking into the camera with pensive, sober expressions. Call me a hater, but I was happy to not have that particular photo in my camera. I did snap a shot of the monument though. While I was there, I noticed a man sitting on one of the benches, wearing 2 pairs of 2010 novelty glasses that lit up, he was talking to anyone who would listen, but nobody seemed to be listening. I decided I wanted to chat with him, so I asked him if he made the glasses himself – of course he didn't, but it was an ice breaker. He told me he can make $400 a day selling the things (I think he was exaggerating, but his hands WERE very soft, so he must do okay or just have good genes). His name was James. He asked where I was from, and I told him Vancouver; then I broadened that to Canada, and he got pretty animated and interested. He asked me if I spoke French, and then told me that when he was coming to North America, his choices were Quebec or New York, but since he didn't speak French, the Francophones didn't receive him very well, so he chose New York. We chatted for a while, and then it was time for me to go back to the hotel to check on Emm and get ready for the show. James gave me a pair of glasses to pass along to Emm, I guess so she'd have something to distract her in the hotel room. I picked up a couple of yummy cupcakes from a place called Crumbs, and returned to the hotel to find Emm still in bed, still not wanting to have a day, so I scarfed down a pistachio cupcake, and left her again to make my way to the theatre.

The Palace Theatre was built in 1913 and has a history as a venue for vaudeville acts and musicals, and I was really excited to see a classic musical like West Side Story in an also classic theatre. The sets were clever, I was especially taken with the set for the dance at the gym - the textures and colours were a rosy and optimistic backdrop for the fierce Mambo! confrontation between the Jets and the Sharks. Also, the rumble under the bridge set was very effective, it had so much depth, I'd like to know how they achieved it. On a side note, I have a lot of respect for set designers and would love to learn about how they do what they do. I never try too hard to figure out how sets are created though, I usually just get caught up in the stories that they frame.

When Riff launched into “Cool” before the rumble, I put it together that “I Feel Pretty” and “Officer Krupke” hadn't been sung yet, and then I was worried that a bunch of cues had been flubbed and the show was going to finish incomplete. But then after checking my program I realized that the songs were in a different order than they are in the movie. And now, after researching this, I've learned that the score was reordered intentionally for the film – it was thought that lighter songs like “Officer Krupke” and “I Feel Pretty” had no business coming after the rumble as in the stage show, they would interrupt the tension, so they were moved up for the film. And “Cool” was moved into the slot after the rumble. For me, both song orders are effective.

Again, I've only ever seen the film (and one amateur production in the 80s that didn't leave too much of an impression with me), and in the film, Tony, while I do get caught up in the story and the romance, annoys the heck out of me. This Tony (played by Jeremy Jordan) did not. His falsetto was sweet and effortless, yet well-controlled; he did begin one finishing note (in Maria) just a tiny bit sharp, but then he subtly corrected the note and finished perfectly. I enjoyed the choice to have the Sharks' and Sharkettes' numbers sung in Spanish along with some of their dialogue. While it prevented me from singing along (which I'm sure my audience neighbours appreciated), it added another layer to the division between the Sharks and the Jets. Also, the director's decision to play up the racism of the police department was a powerful addition, kind of made my stomach turn because with the gangs, they're young and can't be expected to know better, but they may learn. Chronic racism is more hopeless. Stand out numbers for me were Officer Krupke and America – Rita (played by Karen Olivo) was one of the strongest and most dynamic lead performers on the stage. What a treat!

After the show, I went into Famous Dave's BBQ, a busy, noisy chain restaurant, just because it was there. It was happy hour, and they offered 2-for-1 pints and free wings or nachos. I opted for nachos, and they were the ghettoist (?) nachos I've ever had. A bowl of tortilla chips, a few chopped tomatoes and jalapenos, some sour cream drizzled across the top of the chips, and shredded cheddar dumped on top... note, the cheese was NOT MELTED. I guess you get what you pay for? The nachos were good fodder for bar conversation though; I gave my 2-for-1 pints to a couple from Florida sitting to the right of me, ordered a Stella to enjoy with my unfortunate bar snack, and had a good chat with the Floridians, the bartenders, and a fellow who was drinking scotch and reading about veterinary science who seemed really happy to put down his highlighter and talk to me about other things. Note to self, the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island is WAY scarier than you might think...

When I left Emm at the hotel earlier, I had asked if she knew what she might want to eat later, and she said that she might be into some curried vegetables. On the recommendation of one of the bartenders at Famous Dave's, I decided to pick up Thai food from Pongsri on my way home from the show. The restaurant was full with about 5 or 6 parties waiting for seats, and I was ushered through to a secondary dining area to order and wait for my takeout. My red curry was sweet with tons of bamboo shoots and a well-timed heated finish; Emm enjoyed her coconut curry & soup and it perked her up enough to go out walking again, but again there was way more food than either of us could appreciate in one sitting, and we had nowhere to store leftovers.

Day 3: Monday, December 28th
Another sunshiney, warm day. Today, our missions were to take a ride on the Staten Island Ferry, visit a gallery or museum, and then see Gogol Bordello in their natural habitat. First, we needed to take the subway into Lower Manhattan – enter the Metro Card. You stop at a dispenser (or visit one of the human beings selling fare cards from the booths), choose what type of card you need (day pass, multiple fare card, etc.), purchase it with cash or credit card, then swipe the card at the turnstiles to gain entry into the stations. What an efficient means of payment - I love the Metro Card! The NYC subway system is a lot to get your head around, but with a map of the subway system, a map of the area that you're trying to navigate, a commitment to using those tools and a little patience, it will more than likely deliver you to your destination without a hitch. And actually, a compass would come in handy as well, as without a good sense of direction, it's difficult to determine which way you're pointed when you come up from the tunnels. The impression that I left with regarding the subway lines is that a lot of effort has been put into making the system effective, and not so much into the aesthetics of the stations or trains. They're maintained only to the point of good enough, and because they're effective, that really IS good enough.

The Staten Island Ferry serves commuters and tourists freely, providing transportation for 20 million people a year between Staten Island and Whitehall Street in Lower Manhattan. The function of the ferry is to deliver Staten Island commuters to and from Manhattan, but because the half-hour ride allows for a brilliant view of the New York Harbor including the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, and also the Lower Manhattan skyline and bridges, it is a tourist favourite as well. A really great freebie!

We wandered around Lower Manhattan and Wall Street where we saw more beautiful, classic architecture, statues, and history. And tourists galore, there were a bunch of people clustered around a Wall Street icon, the Charging Bull, all trying to get in close to – ahem... rub The Testicles of Prosperity – and get a photo of same. I don't think that's a standard moniker for them, I just thought I'd name them that. We didn't rub the testicles. We made our way back to the Upper West Side, to the Museum of Natural History. I can say that it's probably a better idea to come here as a local, or as a visitor with more time to spend in the city. There are beautiful displays (note to self: how do you get involved in creating those displays?), and tons to see and learn. Emm and I left impressed, but feeling like we should have spent that time on other things.

We returned to the hotel to get ready for the evening ahead. We got back on the subway down to the East Village, found Webster Hall (where we would soon see Gogol Bordello, The Greatest Rock Circus On Earth) and then went to a restaurant that we passed on the way. We were drawn in by the ambiance and by the name – Friend House – but were disappointed by the food. We started with a yummy scallion pancake to share (which was actually 2 pancakes, so double what we expected), and complimentary edamame, which were overcooked. Then, our meals arrived; Emm had a heap of sweet and sour tofu & vegetables on brown rice (turns out there really were no vegetables though), and I had a heap of seafood chow mein that had globby, bland sauce and marginal seafood – including large pieces of imitation crab meat – ick! The prawns were very good though, nice firm texture and flavourful. It was really too bad; the room was lovely and the location was convenient relative to the plans we had for that night, but the quality of the food was just okay. Maybe it was an off night.

Onward to Webster Hall, and a lineup around the block. When we got into the venue, we bee-lined for the women's room. There was a woman there, manning a table with candy, Tylenol, eye drops, etc. for sale; Emm bought a t-shirt from her. The stalls and lower walls were painted hot pink, and the upper walls were black with the phrase “I Must Not Fall For Bad Boys.” painted over and over and over again, like the lines you'd write on the blackboard during detention. (Incidentally, the mantra in the men's room was “I Must Be A Gentleman.”) We passed a closed billiards room, 6 or 8 people were seated inside sitting listening to a man orate to them, it could have been a staff meeting or it could have been religion – who knows? We got to the room where the opening band Forro In The Dark was playing, hip-swiveling, booty-shaking Brazilian party music, and found a spot within a sea of rowdy but well-behaved revelers. Emm went to get a drink, and I made my way upstairs so I could have a better view of the stage. Being short, I just can't have as much fun on the floor if I want to actually see the show. I got a pretty good spot on the balcony and hunkered down to enjoy the show. Eugene Hutz from Gogol Bordello joined Forro In The Dark for one of their last songs, and then Gogol Bordello hit the stage. I don't know if I can ever get tired of this band, they have become my Grateful Dead and I need to get a government grant so I can follow them EVERYWHERE! It's true, their show doesn't really change, only the set list, but the energy they put out is always so consistent and deliberate and intense, and this was no different. In fact, it almost felt like they were playing harder than usual, and maybe this was because they were playing for people who supported them before they hit it big. One of the two female back up singers seemed to be kind of low key, and she disappeared for a few songs, but then there was a hype man who I don't remember seeing the other 2 times I've seen GB play, and he filled in the blanks and was really into what he was doing – he went out crowd surfing on the bass drum that he was pounding on for a good part of the show. So invigorating! I came home with bruised ribs, from spending most of the night in different states of being bent over the balcony rail with strangers cradling me as they tried to get a look at the stage... hmmm, now THAT'S the stuff that dreams are made of, right?

Day 4: Tuesday, December 29th
We had plans to visit the Tenement Museum, Yonah Schimmel's Kinishery, and Emm also wanted to take the train to Brighton Beach in Brooklyn. We wanted to do Coney Island, but it is mostly shut down during the winter months, so that will have to be another trip.

My first impression of the Lower Eastside: It seems that time stands still if you let it, or if you work at it. There are a million tailors on Orchard Street, and I'm not sure why... there is a thriving arts and music community here that I will explore in another visit to New York, there is just so much to do in not enough time. We got to the Tenement Museum, and signed up for a 3:30 tour, which left us with a couple of hours to kill. We decided to hop on the train and go to Brighton Beach in Brooklyn, which was on Emm's “Must Do” list. The train ride was about 40 minutes and offered a look at another face of New York. The train line ran along the back rows of houses – the first houses that we saw since we got to New York. Brighton Beach has a very tight old country Russian community, and I have to admit, I felt like an alien there because I couldn't understand the language. I'm sure I would have felt differently if I spoke Russian, or if I spent more than an hour there. And also, I might have felt more welcome had I not been yelled at for snapping pictures... Bad Donna! Emm had a couple of nice exchanges though, and she got to put some of her Russian language skills to use. And the pastries were so, so, SO good...

After wandering around for an hour, we got back on the train bound for the Tenement Museum. I could happily spend way more time at this museum, there is so much to learn. Tons of information, we went on a very informative tour of the homes of 2 families in one tenement, a German-Jewish home circa 1873 and an Italian-Catholic home from the 1930s. Our guide was engaging and seemed to have a genuine interest and passion for the work that she was doing and for the information that she shared. And, we even learned about why our first hotel room with the window into the storage room had such a feature... full circle!

We stopped in for knishes and soup at Yonah Schimmel's before leaving Loho. (That's what they call it... I don't know if I like it, but I thought I should try.) The spot is over 100 years old, kind of grungy with photos and newspaper clippings plastered all over the walls. I was looking at one photo and I said to Emm “Tee hee, look at the photo with the dude in shorts and the cute old man,” and she answered “You mean Larry David and Woody Allen?” (I need to wear my glasses more often.) Friendly staff... the knishes came in many flavours. We opted for a spinach knish to share and we each also ordered a mushroom knish and bowl of mushroom barley soup; the knishes arrived and were as big as the plates they were served on, and dense, weighing in at about a pound each. Again, TOO MUCH FOOD. Carb overload for sure, which wasn't a bad thing considering the weather outside was seriously frightful. The rain and sunshine that we'd been given so far had now become the cold that we anticipated all along, and we had spent a good part of the day outside in it and now had to make our way home again.

We caught the train back up to Times Square, and went to Caroline's on Broadway. Dave Attell was doing a set; I didn't have the first clue about him, but Emm wanted to go, so we went. There were 4 comedians that night, and the opening comedian/host was actually the only one that really made me laugh. Emm and I had planned to go for grown-up drinks at a place called Bemelmans as our last date in NYC, but she ended up going on an adventure with one of the comedians from the club instead... but that's her story, not mine. So, Emm spent her last night in NYC hanging out with a comic, and I spent my last night in NYC in the hotel, cozy in my bed, looking at photos that I took and reflecting on my time there. I'm so lame!

Day 4: Wednesday, December 30th
We checked of our room just before 11AM. Oddly enough, Emm and I both neglected to return our room keys, purely by accident.

I think that's an omen. I do want to come back, to see and do things that I wasn't able to do this time, but mostly just to be in the city. It really does have a certain energy that speaks to me, and a modesty that I can relate to and appreciate. I wonder if you get to feel the same energy living there...

Photos from this trip...

And so it begins, again.

I don't blog anymore. I just thought I should get that out of the way right at the get-go. But I feel compelled to record this moment that I'm feeling, right now.

For the past couple of months, I've been living my life very differently from how I've lived it over the last 15 years. My partner and I split up in October, and this week I'll be moving out of our home and into my new home. Sadness washes over me from time to time; those times were becoming less frequent but now, closer to the move, they're back. The sadness shares space with possibility, fear, regret, peace... who knew that all of these could get along so well in what feels right now like such a small space?

I'm hopeful for the future. I'm committed to the now. And life marches on.

2008... later, alligator!

I was going to toss my wall calendar from 2008 into the recycling pile, but as I am prone to doing with most things before disposing of them (translates to: I'm a pack rat), I decided to have a look over the past year before sending it out into the ecological cosmos to reach new people and places in a form yet to be determined. Kind of symbolic, actually... so anyway, looking back over the months brought back some memories, and I'm going to jot some of them down here.

Driving lessons
My first few Young Drivers in-car lessons were with Kim. She was unusually placid and her car reeked of cigarettes. In spite of these qualities, Kim managed to cross me over into not being completely petrified and even becoming comfortable behind the wheel. Perhaps unfortunately for me, she moved to the island, and I ended up with a new instructor... Lance. Lance's car did not reek of cigarettes and he was far from placid; Lance was a 70-some year old Asian man, and I only mention his ethnicity because he made a point of refuting it on our first time out. Lance and I butted heads when he grabbed the wheel from me and started honking and yelling at drivers who had the right of way and shouting at me "We're going to CRASH!" When I pulled over to tell Lance that I didn't think his teaching style meshed with my learning style, he told me that I was wrong, that his students passed tests, and then pointed out that he was a first-generation Ukrainian Canadian. I have an idea as to why he felt that was worth a mention, even though I'm not of the belief system that would warrant the mention. Against my initial impulse, I stuck with Lance for the rest of my in-car lessons which would finish in May, and in that time, I managed to pick up some snippets of Ukrainian trash-talk, a couple of bottles of tasty spring water fresh from the source, and somewhere in there, one or two good driving habits that I use now. I failed my first road test in May, and was successful in nabbing my "N" in August.

Rock Shows & Such
Went with Yvette & Steve to see Hayden play at UBC in February. The theatre was packed and we were separated. I sat in the 2nd row behind a big guy; I assured him that if, in his peripheral vision, he saw me leaning out awkwardly and it appeared that I was looking at him, that I was indeed looking past him and at Hayden. His response was a really weird look. I hadn't yet figured out how to turn the sounds off on my mobile phone camera, and so when I started recording some video of Hayden, my camera emitted a really loud BEEP.... and Hayden kind of smirked in my direction and in perfect Butthead form said "You got texted." And people laughed, and I blushed. The show was perfectly Hayden.

The Breeders came to town in May, and my pal Deb came to town for the show at Richards. We arrived about 3 songs into their set. I recognized Kim & Kelly Deal right away (they're the two lead vocalists and they're identical twins - it's easy!). I don't know anything about the rest of the band, but it wasn't the same lineup as they had in the 90s, but the Deal sisters' sound and quirky relationship was spot-on, and I have to admit, that is a big part of what attracted me to The Breeders in the first place... so I was pleased. Had a nice visit with Deb too; we had an all-nighter at Richards, walking home from Richards, and then just hanging out at home that night and then an all-dayer wandering around East Van the following day. We see each other very rarely - it's nice to be able to reconnect now and then.

Erykah Badu played the Commodore in June, twice in the same night with maybe half-an-hour between shows. Her first show sold out in something like 10 minutes, and I was in a meeting at work when my Outlook reminder to buy tickets came and went, so I missed the boat. I was so pleased to get tickets to the second show! Holy crap, she is the Messiah. Okay, no... she's not. But she's INCREDIBLE. Her show was an experience in music and character and timing and soul and precision and funk. A lotta funk! She did mostly music from her latest album New Amerykah, and some songs from her breakout album Baduizm, and her set was filled with banter and thoughtful comments on creativity and cosmic conciousness, which came across as anything but rhetoric. She seemed truly inspired by the crowd, and I think she left most of us inspired as well. And of course, she was visually fabulous, with a big ol' puffy afro and a purple pin-striped suit. I'm pretty sure she was wearing some sort of booty pad under that suit, and she shook that thing like it had a week to live!

Other shows... February: Ruthie Foster (great voice and spirit, and really great dreadlocks!); April: Bad Manners (Buster Bloodvessel & the boys delivered at the Red Room!); September: The Black Crowes @ the Orpheum (passable - the sound could have been better); October: Gogol Bordello @ the Commodore (consistent & SWEATY!); November: Blackbones @ the Bourbon (guitarded!), Holly Golightly @ the Biltmore (perfect, I hope she comes back); English Beat @ the Plaza (I think they did every song from W'Happen? in order, and Dave Wakeling was even a little pervy, how bizarre...).

Theatre & Such
January:
Frankenstein @ Vancouver East Cultural Centre
Visually stunning, the costumes made me giddy. Tim Burton would have loved this production!

March:
Into The Woods - Patrick Street Productions @ Vancouver East Cultural Centre
Went with Megan & Jill; I think we all agreed it was REALLY long... I wish I would have given this show a bit more thought the, because I don't really remember it very well now. I did really like the costumes (especially the witch's mask) and the two princes were brilliant!

June:
What Not To Wish - The Broadway Chorus @ Waterfront Theatre
Our spring show was built around various fairy tale themes and characters - flighty fairies, wicked witches, dim-witted emperors and others - and featured special appearances by fairy gawdmongers Stacy London (I got to play her - I know, shut UP!!!) and Clinton Kelly of TLC's What Not To Wear. FUN!

July:
Cirque Du Soleil: Corteo
You know, that chapiteau really IS grand! I preferred last year's performance, but I really enjoyed the Helium Dance... it was perfectly magical imagery: tiny Valentina being gracefully moved through the theatre's sky, lofted gently by the hands of audience members and lifted by pale helium balloons - beautiful.

Bottoms Up Broadway - Pipedream Theatre Project Society @ WISE Hall
I participated in this fundraising cabaret for Pipedream's 2009 show (they're doing A New Brain!). We performed songs from RENT, Oliver, The Life, The Wild Party, and many other shows, and I got to sing Miss Adelaide's part in Take Back Your Mink. Great experience!

September:
The Musical of Musicals (The Musical!) - Fighting Chance Productions
I was pleased with the show and with the performers, but was really disappointed that we didn't clap loudly enough to get the Kander and Ebb version...

December:
The Laramie Project - Fighting Chance Productions
Heartwrenching and fist-raising subject matter, brought to life through strong characterization by a truly talented and flexible cast. Brilliant effort, bravo, FCP!!!

The Drowsy Chaperone - Vancouver Playhouse Theatre Company
I loved this!!! The toe-tapping, feel good show of the year. I am so glad my friend Kate got a bunch of us motivated to go to the preview, because although the show had a good long run at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre, the way December went with weather and the holidays and such, I could easily have missed it, and that would have been a mistake. (What would Adolpho have thought?)

Annie Get Your Nun - The Broadway Chorus @ Waterfront Theatre
Our December show took a dash of Annie and a pinch of The Sound Of Music and came up with a show that was SO much fun to perform! I played housekeeper to a house full of grown-up slacker Von Trapps and some messy house guests Little Orphan Annie, the Sisters of the Convent of the Token Part, and some heavies from the Vatican. (I later disguise myself as the Captainess Von Trapp in hopes of securing a more leisurely life in the castle... costuming my characters was a blast!) We did songs from Sister Act, Chicago, A New Brain, and The Drowsy Chaperone; in my opinion, our shows and performances just keep getting stronger, and I can't wait to find out what we're doing next!

And otherwise... Let's see. In May, I made my way to Edmonton for my Uncle Casey's funeral and to see some family and friends; a week later, Damion went to Edmonton for his Grandad's memorial, and my sister Megan made her way to Australia for some happier visiting. Damion and I spent a few days with Stevette in Ucluelet and Tofino in August. It was a collective first visit to that part of the island; happily, it was easy to keep ourselves entertained. We hiked wooded trails and lounged on sandy beaches, we wandered around town and had no trouble eating very well. And we agreed to remember that we really do have a stunning and lush (although pricey) island getaway within easy reach, and that staying local is always an option. December came, and midway through, so did some hideous weather. Damion and I went back to Edmonton (where snow belongs!) for some holiday fun, and came back home to the same hideous weather that we'd left behind.

And that hideous weather remains, and that brings me to now. Hi ho, hi ho - and to the recycling bin I go!

When enviro-friendly becomes enviro-foolish...

I was wandering around in the drugstore, and I remembered that I needed cotton balls..... or cotton pads - they're more compact.

I opted for Organic Essentials Certified Organic Cotton Cosmetic Rounds; a couple of hours later, I opened the plastic bag (which the Organic Essentials folks reminded me IS reusable - thanks!) and I took out a cushy organic cotton pad.

And then, the irony of my consumer choice sunk in as I dipped my organic cotton pad into some acetone-free, yet totally not enviro-friendly nail polish remover, and then proceeded to wipe my toenails clean of all traces of my favourite orange nail polish.*

Next week, maybe I'll make a point of buying lanolin-enriched hair conditioner, but only if the manufacturer is against animal testing.

Silly girl.

*Nic's Sticks Orange You Fast Nail Lacquer... not the most evil product on the shelf, but still pretty darn non-essential and ridiculous when you look at the big picture.

Enter the Kavorka...

First off, I'm writing from the point of view of a woman in a relationship with a man, relating to other women who... well, who relate to men - and when I use the word "couple," I am referring to male/female couples. Just to be clear... maybe my little rant is more universal than I know, but I'm not about to pretend to know..... you know?

My partner Damion is physically a very attractive man and is also quite charming, and people - particularly older married women - seem to feel very comfortable discussing this with him. "Oh man, if I were 30 years younger and single..." that kind of thing - and this doesn't bother me, because why NOT tell it like it is??? Today, at a funeral reception, I walked into one of these exchanges; Damion put his arm around me and acknowledged me, "I'd like you to meet my partner Donna," and the flirting stopped dead... which would have been okay if then polite conversation had begun. But it didn't... it was like I'd dropped the ultimate cock-block (or whatever it's called when women block women), only without intending to.

Why couldn't this woman have just nudged me, winked at me, or high-fived me or something? Was she ashamed? Or was she subconsciously competing? (Or was I?)

Men don't typically react the same way. When roles are reversed, men tend to unite, to pay tribute to one another. Maybe it's because they've been objectifying women for longer, so there's just no shame left to cloud the situation. I'm not completely comfortable playing the trophy or the trophy-owner though, so this kind of socializing is tricky. My usual strategy is to leave the situation.

We were at a wedding a few years ago (what is it with funerals and weddings?), and there was a woman there who was completely drunk and enchanted with Damion. She met us both, but she had that "I'm gonna EAT you!" look in her eye when she met Damion. She approached him anytime I wasn't near. I'd go to dance with my friend, she'd try to dance with Damion... I'd go to to get a drink, she'd corner Damion. Damion would go outside to smoke, she'd need air; she was absolutely possessed. At one point, my friend and I went to use the washroom; we were at the sink washing our hands and fixing our lipstick, and in stumbled that woman with her friend and in mid sentence, "Oh, Damion issho FUNNY - we were jussousside an' he shaiddd..." and then she stopped because her friend had spotted me and had elbowed her in the stomach to shut her up!

(These women were in their late 50s... good on 'em for having a good time, but...)

And she and I stood there and looked at each other; she looked scared and bloated and embarrassed and I suppose I looked a bit angry, but really I was just stunned and had no idea how to process this awkward moment. It was very high school... and unfortunately I am no better equipped now than I was then to deal with such weirdness. We left shortly after that, but for the rest of the night while we were there, she pretty much kept to herself. And I think she eased off the wine.

Socializing as a couple is serious business! There are all sorts of unspoken rules and understandings that couples take with them to dinner parties, business functions, and the like. Will there be a dominant partner, and if so, who? Which partner will tell the stories, and which will support with well-placed "Oh, but Hun, you haven't told them to the FUNNIEST part!" Who will deliver the wine/dessert/flowers/big salad? I know, you're asking why can't each partner do or be both? By acknowledging and playing into these imposed roles, don't we just end up giving them more focus? Well yeah - duh! But really, are all of us so evolved that we can avoid these roles completely? Doubtful.

So in the meantime, between now and nirvana, we strive for equality and fairness within the relationship. And I do believe this equality is possible, and can be achieved through awareness, respect, and sharing; awareness of what each person has to offer, respect for each other, and sharing the experience. And when in doubt, develop some foolproof "let's leave the party NOW" code.

Alice Pieszecki was getting her hair done at my salon today...

Okay, I didn't mean to suggest that the salon is mine. Well, it kind of is... it's not my salon, but it's where I go to get my hair done, and in correcting my first statement, I gave you a clue as to where I go to get my hair done. And a clue as to where Alice Pieszecki gets her hair done, or did today anyway. And okay, it was really Leisha Hailey - and yes, I know the difference.

And no, I did not run up to her and say "You're one of my favourite lesbians on the L Word...." In fact, I didn't really do anything to acknowledge her celebrity, but I did sneak a peek at her while she waited for her crown of foils to set, and when I looked at her, turned out she was looking at me too.

You know, she probably recognized me from a Broadway Chorus show and she probably wanted to tell me that I'm one of her favourite non-paid musical theatre performers, but then thought the better of it. I'm sure she just didn't think it would be right for her to interrupt my salon time... I appreciate that.

Now, more importantly..... My hair stylist and I were talking travel, and when I referred to the scary one-armed man who chased two of my friends in Belize City, she knew exactly who I was talking about - right down to the fact that he had a way of gesticulating like a madman with the stump where his arm once lived, flinging it about and hitting himself in the process. It's a small, bizarre world....

And I'm very happy with my hair.

Lungs before beauty...

I have a show coming up in June, and the character I'm playing happens to have long brown-black hair. I have the long hair, and I have the brown half of the brown-black; not wanting to run around and tap dance with a double head of hair (ie: a wig atop my already heavy mane) or to suffer the regrowth process, I'm looking for temporary hair colour solutions.

Have you ever heard of a product called Fanci-Full Mousse?

It looks like this:

And when you put it in your hair and get dressed and have a day, it also looks like this:

And, after having whatever mousse that didn't make it into my shirt in my hair for just one sleep and a day, my lungs feel as though I've been can-canning in a coal mine. Or as though I've taken up smoking again, only instead of wasting money buying and time smoking the cigarettes, I've opted to simply drill a good-sized hole through my breastbone and into my lungs, insert a tube, and toss whatever dust and disease that's handy directly into the folds of my 6-years clean and apparently wimpier-than-ever lungs.

So for the sake of my clothes and my health, I don't think that Fanci-Full is the best option for me. I'll keep experimenting, and am guessing I will end up facing the challenge of finding the bright side of growing out a black dye job.