Hella Stella

Shawna is in town, and I managed to quell the cough long enough to visit with her last night.

We decided to go to the Georgetown to see my cousin Brian host the open mic night. Unfortunately, we arrived much too early, and the open mic started much too late. As a result, Shawna and I found ourselves with extra time to burn.... In a sports bar.

I hate sports bars. Sorry, but its true. I hate the loud screens, the loud dudes, the rude bartenders... I hate getting my brain kicked back to middle school where I was a freaky arts kid in a class full of football players. I'm not sure I've ever found a sports bar where I've felt comfortable, unless I get myself there artificially by drinking the bar dry. Then I'm no longer in a sports bar, I'm in Magical Drinking Land where everything is funny and I can suddenly dance like a Colombian.

The open mic finally started just before 11pm, when I really should have been in bed, given my bad state of health. We watched Brian play some tunes, and I jumped up to sing our favourite Prince cover right before Shawna and I split.

It ended up being fun, but oh man, I get the willies in places like that. Luckily for the Georgetown, they've got a good thing happening with their open mics. It was songwriter central there, with about five established local singers there looking to have a good time. Actually, I think everyone on the bill from the Wakefield gig was there last night. That's a rare treat for an open stage.

Catching up with Shawna was pretty great. Since we've known each other from primary school onwards, we've always got plenty to talk about... Not to mention the fact that we both somehow became songwriters. Maybe there was something in the water at that playground.

I might even get to see her again this Saturday, when the city converges on Westfest. I think that festival is doing everything right, and I plan to soak it all in this weekend. If I can figure out how to get my pup down there, it will be even better. It's going to be cute doggie central!