Hella Stella

A few things today.

First, it is my friend Heather's birthday. Heather is one of those people I feel very lucky to know. She is an amazingly loyal and attentive friend. Funny, honest, CRAZY CUTE and knows how to have a good time better than anyone. Girl? I luuurve you. Happy birthday.

Speaking of happy...

Morty seems thrilled that my BH is back under our roof. THRILLED. He's all Mr. Snugglepants at night, happily sandwiched between us and over the moon that he now has TWO humans to drool on. Happy puppy, happy Stella. I love my boys.

Speaking of loving my boys...

Your comments about the whole "marriage" thing cracked me up. You guys are great. I promise, if I ever do have something resembling a wedding, it will be suitably quirky and well, fucked up. Like moi.

May I say something unusual?

I've given up on summer. Not in a bitter way, not really. I'm thankful for the day or two of warm weather we had. But now? I'm ready for fall.

Oh, don't cover your ears... You know you love fall! It's my absolute favourite season, for the smell of the leaves, for the food, for the temperature, for the layered clothes. Time to pass the torch to a less disappointing season. Autumn is up for the challenge.

And on a totally different note...

If you had to buy a really sexy outfit (think burlesque), where would you go in Ottawa to buy it? I could also use a wig. Help me out, peeps.

My BH and I are quickly becoming the last holdouts in our group of friends who remain sinfully unwed.

It's kinda great.

Don't get me wrong... We're big fans of weddings. We like to dance and dress up and watch our friends make out in front of their entire extended family. We just don't really care whether or not we have our own shindig. I mean shit, we've been together for nearly a decade now; I don't think marriage is going to change much for us at this point. I'm sure it will be a great party if we ever get around to it. We like us some parties.

Generally, our friends have been totally cool with our decision. They know us well. They know my own parents never got married, so I was never raised thinking it was something I had to do. They know I'm completely disinterested in diamond rings. They know my BH is a fairly non-traditional dude, and that we both like to mess with conventions.

But we do get the occasional comment.

A couple months ago, it was my BH's mom. In passing, she said, "You know son, you're not getting any younger. Don't you think it's time you got married?"

Funny, I thought he was getting younger! Sneaky bugger.

Then, my BH's cousin. "We're renting a temple in India in 2012 for a celebration. Why don't you both come up for it, and you can just get married while we have the hall booked?"

Woot, a discounted wedding chapel!

From some of our immediate friends, our decision is treated more like laziness on the part of my BH. As though he should really get his act together and buy me a fricking ring, right? Because that's what I'm interested in.

How quaint.

This morning, we chatted about it briefly, because it can honestly get a little frustrating. Our marital status is just not that interesting, and we are always surprised people seem to care about it enough to make pointed remarks (Ironically, the more people bug us about it, the less we want to tie the knot...).

I suggested we just never get married to keep people guessing, but I think our next plan is better. Maybe I'll start a blog called "Still No Ring" and spend my days lamenting how my BH will never commit.

Day 1: Woke up and did not get a ring. *sniff*
Day 2: Made big breakfast with the hopes of getting a ring. No such luck.
Day 3: I WILL DIE A SPINSTER.
Day 4: Got ringworm while traveling.... The irony!
Day 5: Found a plastic ring in the cereal box. Do you think it's a sign?!?
Day 6: BH got down on one knee, but then I noticed he had just thrown his back out.
Day 7: Dog ate my plastic ring and crapped it out on his walk. Dreams dashed.
Day 8: I WILL DIE A SPINSTER.

HAH!

It would probably get old fast, but man, even if I only did it for a week, it would be worth the laughs.

Can you suggest any other tongue-in-cheek blogs I should start up while I'm at it?

Apparently that thing I mentioned about bad days needing to end was untrue. Sometimes they just continue. They make bad day babies. They multiply.

It's okay. My days aren't actually that awful, they're just UGH. Really. All I can think to describe them is this sound.

Or maybe GAAAAAH.

Last night I froze approximately ten million blueberries. It was oddly taxing, because I had to freeze them first on a cookie sheet so they wouldn't all stick together. It took four full cookie sheets of blueberries to get the whole batch done, and then I had to transfer them into freezer bags. Except that I was out of freezer bags and so I had to run around finding old ones and washing them out. And I cut up my fingers on the ice.

Anyways.

At one point I lost the pen I was making a list with. I found it later in the freezer.

But by that point, I had lost the list.

I'm heading up to the house in the woods tonight, and I really hope my mood improves. I think I'm just a bit burned out with the combination of work (while my boss is on vacation, so I'm doing an extra job), no partner at home, and my rambunctious puppy. I miss my BH. He's technically not that far away, but I miss seeing him when I get home. He's so damn good looking.

Tomorrow we're going to a crazy awesome wedding. I'm playing this song as the bride comes down the aisle. Then we're going to eat pie and sri lankan buffet and dance our hearts out.

That should scare the UGH right out of me.

I'm getting excited for:

- Songwriting time while my BH is house sitting. Oh, to be able to play guitar without a puppy howling outside the door! It's going to be like Christmas but I'll be alone and there will be no snow. So... Nothing like Christmas at all. But at least there will be music.

- A wedding coming up in a few weeks that promises to TOTALLY KICK ASS. No catty bitches this time, just love sweet love. And pie. You know how I feel about pie. We've also been encouraged to wear something colourful, which means I get to break out my fuchsia silk dress from a couple summers ago.

- Bluesfest. I'm going to give it another try, because the lineup is calling my name. I cannot resist. In fact, I'll be there tonight! Iron and Wine, anyone?

- This Saturday in Toronto. I haven't played a gig in Toronto in a long time, and I've never played at this particular venue. A bunch of folks are coming out for the show too, so it will be great to see them! I shall issue myself a challange to stay sober and behave. HAH! Just kidding. That would be completely out of character.

So how did the wedding go? 97% awesome.

The two awkward moments I was fretting about did not go the way I imagined they would. The first was not awkward at all; it was lovely and friendly and good. I was so pleased, I was practically beaming.

The second awkward moment was approximately ten times more awkward than I expected, pretty much obliterating the good feelings from the first encounter. But I learned something from all the bullshit.

First, I realized that I've become very good at putting away old feuds for the sake of being genuine and kind. I'm not trying to brag or make myself seem saintly. I have a fine roster of faults, but I generally give people the benefit of the doubt, and I'm happy to let bygones be bygones if the other party seems willing.

However.

I am also not interested in wasting my time playing nice if the other person behaves like, oh, I don't know... A catty bitch. Once I've determined that someone won't take the time to be friendly, I will gladly cut my losses and let them fuck off and play by themselves. There's way more to life than faking my way through awful conversations with awful people. Like dancing, for example. And cake. And an open bar.

Yes, it was an open bar. I didn't realize until I tried to pay for my drink(s).

And yes, I am walking upright today, thank you.

Just barely.

I like the transition that happens to my fingertips when music really picks up. They go from being soft and squishy to being rock hard and rough. When I tap them on a table top, they go click click click instead of thump thump thump.

It makes me feel like I'm getting things done. Physical evidence that I'm practicing, right?

We had a rehearsal last night for the Vinyl Cafe show. Did I tell you that I'm bringing two bandmates with me instead of one? Brian will be there, of course, and so will Jeff. Jeff has grown a giant beard since I last saw him, and he officially looks like a lumberjack.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that hearing them both sing harmony on my songs gives me full-body shivers. It's just so nice, and they are both so good. Sometimes I'm amazed that I get to play with them. They make me look like I know what I'm doing.

I also think they are both pretty thrilled to be part of the show. Jeff said his parents freaked out when they heard. I just hope the tickets aren't gone - does anyone know if both nights are full? I don't really understand the Ticketmaster site.

Tomorrow is my friends' wedding. Their gift came in the mail yesterday, so other than losing the invite and not having an outfit picked out, I'm ready to go. I wrote HSB to find out the details, because it would be so incredibly lame to show up at the wrong church. I imagine the invite was misplaced while I reorganizing my desk. Cruel, cruel irony.

Providing I show up at the right place, I think it will be a great time. It will give me a chance to disconnect my brain from gig nervousness. I'm getting my hair re-striped tonight, so at at very least I will have proper platinum to brown contrasting. That will surely distract people from the fact that I'll be wearing a paper bag.

Gah, Westfest was so fun! Other than my sloppy application of sunscreen (resulting in two triangular-shaped burns on my feet), the weekend went off without a hitch.

We scored some backstage passes and got to enjoy The Acorn's rainy set from the comfort of the VIP tent. We were originally a little shy to use our passes, since I'm not playing the fest this year and felt like an impostor, but MAN I'm glad we changed our minds. Open bar, homemade candies, catching up with some musical friends and giant hugs from the festival organizer. So much better than roughing it in the rain.

I've got a pretty intense rehearsal schedule for the next two weeks, and then it's the big show. While I feel pretty good about the songs, I have no idea what to wear. This is not the sort of gig where I can show up in jeans and a t-shirt covered in puppy fur. Right now, I'm thinking hot pink a-line skirt and high pink leather boots. Maybe a shirt, too. Or maybe not!

I've been so caught up in the gig preparation that I haven't really gotten my brain together for the wedding that's happening this weekend. At least my BH's suit is dry cleaned and ready to party. I'll have to sort through my closet and pick out something fun for myself.

S'okay though... Unlike at the gig, I can drink myself into a state of Cute this weekend. So helpful.

I wrote another piece of song yesterday - I think the trick is to sneak to the bedroom while Morty is sleeping, and start playing before he wakes up and tries to join me. That way he'll hear the guitar and be too scared to follow.

Having a dog who is frightened of instruments is tough. I love that pup, but how he ended up with a banjo phobia is beyond me. I'm a freaking songwriter. It's what I do.

(Actually, it might be even worse if Morty did this)

Strangely, while he's scared of my instruments, he's a total tough guy on walks and tries to take off people's legs if they come to close to me without warning. Very protective. I pity the fool who tries to mug me. The last thing they'll see is a giant drooling bulldog flying through the air.

I had a nice talk with HSB last night about all the potential awkward moments that may present themselves at this upcoming wedding. It's just going to be one of those odd situations where everybody has dated each other at some point, and now we have to manage the sea of exes and burned bridges that follow. I was planning on pre-drinking a bit, but it might be easier if I arrive drunk.

I'm only partially kidding. There's a good chance it'll just be awesome fun and nothing awkward will happen at all. I'm just trying to be prepared.

Funny that I've mapped out the possible personal clashes, but I haven't bothered to find an outfit! I'm thinking fishnets.

And maybe a dress.

My BH has only been done school for one week, and he's already morphing into the world's sexiest house-husband, if I may say so myself. Last night he made me dinner, and today he's baking cakes, pies, and vacuuming. AND THEN HE'S GOING TO LIFT SOME WEIGHTS. I'm not even kidding!

*swoon*

(Sorry if I'm embarrassing you BH, but you've got to acknowledge the hotness at some point...)

I'm having trouble believing it's May 1. April was the sort of month that felt like it would never end. In fact, last Tuesday I spent the entire day convinced it was Wednesday. It was so bad that when I checked the Weather Network for the forecast, I got pissed off that they were showing Tuesday's weather and not Wednesday's. I believe my exact thoughts were: "Stupid weather people... It's not that hard to get the day right."

Yeah. I'm an asshole.

I guess I don't have that much to report today. Tomorrow my BH and I are going with the in-laws to a sugar bush! I am crazy excited. Then it's Chinatown Remixed, and Bubbi's birthday. Should be a really stellar weekend,

I'm also really looking forward to a couple of weddings that are happening this summer. Isn't it cool when old friends get hitched? I'm not one for cheesy traditional stuff, but dang, I love a good quirky wedding.

(My love for weddings may or may not be related to the fact that it's the ultimate excuse to get one's drunk on. Don't judge.)

Aah, the weekend wedding.

A good time had by all, especially me, three drinks in and drunk as fuck. I wrote "boobies!!" in the guest book. Not my proudest moment. But wandering down country roads with Andi, white-girl-dancing to TLC, and taking full advantage of the open bar was very nice. I slept like a log and had a nice drive home in a rented Toyota hybrid. It's quiet! Except when you accidentally drive with the emergency brake on.

Yeah.

Funny story: My BH and I left the puppy in the capable hands of his dad and little brother. They stayed at our place and looked after little Morty so we could enjoy the wedding. When we left for the weekend, Morty was all small and wiggly. Note. Small.

When we got home, a day and a half later, Morty was the size of a basketball.

He did not run up to meet us; he waddled over and grunted in our general direction. Without wanting to sound ungrateful, we asked if he had ingested, oh, say, a basketball. After a little to-ing and fro-ing, we realized that Morty had been accidentally fed the equivalent of about six meals instead of three. For the rest of the day, Morty made constipation noises and crapped in his crate at 3am this morning. Me? I look like a zombie, because I was still washing the poo off my puppy at 4am. He came to bed with me and drooled on my toes for the following two hours, at which point I gave up on sleep and made some tea.

I have that... Not so fresh feeling.

Still, despite all the poo, I feel good. There seems to be an underlying current of excitement in everything I do these days. I feel like something good is coming. Something really good.

Fall?

Cure for the Mystery Cough?

A full night's sleep?

ALL OF THE ABOVE?

The possibilities...

I'm back from a whirlwind wedding weekend in The Tang. A lot of stuff happened in a very short amount of time, so I'll try to condense it by picking out the most memorable bits.

Perhaps most memorable is the fact that we got lost on our way up there. Oddly enough, we seemed to have gotten lost because we were over-prepared. We had the directions from my cousin, we had a big map, and we had a GPS system we borrowed from the in-laws. You'd think this would ensure that we would be incapable of taking a wrong turn, but we like to stretch the limits of stupidity every now and then.

My BH and I reached one of many small towns a few hours in, and according to my cousin's instructions, we were supposed to go straight through to the next town. However, as I was driving through, the GPS system said "TURN RIGHT HERE" in its creepy machine voice. I pulled over, and we consulted the map. We eventually determined that our three navigators were all telling us to go in different directions, so we decided to trust the machine and take the right turn.

Boo.

An hour or two later, we were lost somewhere in the Haliburtons, trying desperately to get cell phone reception to call our relatives. They figured out where we were, and talked us back onto the correct highway. We arrived at the wedding fifteen minutes before it started instead of our planned two or three hour grace period. Since we were cutting it close, we changed in the parking lot behind our car. (Afterwards I noticed that the entire church had windows facing the parking lot and realized that I had flashed a room full of devout Catholics.) (This is totally something I would do.) (I was surprisingly cool with the whole thing.)

The ceremony was lovely, and I was thrilled to see that I had been seated next to my Communist Aunt. This meant that even if the ceremony was dry, I would still be entertained. My theory was correct. The priest was chatting away about how something or other was the word of God, and she leaned in, cocked an eyebrow and said, "It sounds more like the word of a horny old man to me." Thank you, Communist Aunt. A solid observation.

Later in the ceremony, she looked lost in thought. I figured she was reflecting on the beauty of the wedding or something, but obviously I was just being naive. She turned to me, and out of nowhere said, "You know, we would all be great grandparents by now if all you kids would have started having babies earlier. What the hell are you waiting for, anyway? Get busy!" (Perhaps this is just the Communist Aunt version of 'so when are you having kids?')

I was a little speechless at that one. My BH was giggling beside me. Once I regained my composure, I leaned in with a wink and said "It's not for lack of practice, aunty."

The rest of the evening was standard wedding fun. There was a buffet, cupcakes, an open bar, and more cupcakes. We partied with our relatives and listened to people tell embarrassing stories about the bride and groom. Eventually we headed back to our Super 8 hotel and passed out on the cheap polyester comforters. Because we had two Queen-sized beds, my BH insisted on sleeping alone so he could "sleep all stretched out like a star fish." It made no difference to me, because I swear I was asleep before I hit the pillow.

Since we left little Morty at home with our dear friend to look after him, we had to leave The Tang at noon the next day to get back in decent time. After a greasy breakfast and a five minute walk through the entire Tang downtown, we were off. It was a lovely ride home, and we stopped at a few antique places along the way. I bought an antique washboard! It will double as art as well as a musical instrument.

And that's about it. One wedding down, and one more to go. Woot!

Holy, Bluesfest is busy.

I mean, I knew that, but in previous years I would plant myself at the Black Sheep stage and not venture too far beyond it for the evening. Last night we stretched our horizons, and after Mighty Popo was done, we wandered over to the main stage for the Black Crows. They put on a great show, and the sound was excellent, but CHRIST there were a lot of people. I'm only 5'2, so you can just imagine how much I was getting stepped on/pushed/blocked all night. I also think I was a bit woozy from walking through clouds of mystery smoke. Eventually we headed home to the puppy and collapsed exhausted into bed. A good night, but I need to wash the drug smell out of my clothes before I accidentally wear them to work. I have a distinct 'festival' fragrance about me.

Are you guys missing Zoom? I am. I can't wait to hear some stories about her adventures in the woods. Come back Zoom!

Oy, this wedding tomorrow. I'm excited to see my family, but I am also drained and in need of a good long sleep. The drive is a bit daunting, too. I must remember to bring snacks so that I'm not stuck with salad-in-a-bag from a truck stop. God, I hate salad-in-a-bag.

The stress of moving is being pushed aside by work stress. I'm writing some tests next week, learning how to do a new job, and as soon as I get back from moving houses, I start a two-week placement working a much crazier position. This summer is going to eat me whole. I have no idea how I'm going to balance it all.

On a more cheerful note, I get to wear a dress at this wedding that looks like a green doily. And I'm happy about it. I'll see if I can get a picture that won't be blurry from the drink.

Off to The Tang! See you in a few days!

Morty had a nightmare last night.

I know this because he started whimpering and howling sometime around 3 am. When we looked in his crate, he was passed out, scrunched up all funny because he had been kicking his toys around. My BH brought him onto the bed, and he promptly fell asleep on my face (he later migrated to my neck, chest, head again, pillow, feet, and went back up to my head for good measure). I didn't sleep that well. I had a whimpering dog on my head. Obvs.

As hellish as moving is, I'm starting to get a bit excited. I'm looking forward to living in a new neighbourhood. I'm looking forward to the neighbours I'm going to have. And considering how heavy Morty is getting, I'm looking forward to not having a long staircase to carry him down every time he needs to pee (he isn't supposed to go up and down stairs much yet in an effort to save his hips from dysplasia). Last night, I stopped into Staples and got coloured cue cards to label my moving boxes. Nothing gets me going like a label or two. Or fifteen. Besides, these cue cards are NEON. I'm going to move like it's 1986!

I had my final drum lesson last night. In a few short months, I've learned a crapload about hand foot coordination and latin rhythm. I can play coherently; badly, but coherently. This makes me happy. However, my money does not stretch far enough to cover another block of lessons, so I'm going to quit before I'm broke. My next challenge? Getting me some inexpensive drum sequencing software to make bizarre banjo dance music. YES.

In a few days we'll be at my cousin's open bar wedding in The Tang. This side of my family really knows how to party, and I'm secretly hoping that my communist aunt shows up (partly because I want to see her, and partly because she is insanely offensive entertaining whilst inebriated). It's going to be one hell of a wedding.

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A-Channel reported last night that the Rasputin's fire was an act of arson. Are they fucking serious?