is this true?

"...it is yet another venue for starting those precious fake internet friendships that, in a city this size, lead to numerous awkward conversations about how you know each other on the internerd. these conversations are usually followed by making shifty eyed smalltalk as you both recall the soul-baring you have done on myspace/friendster/indecline/whatever, back when it felt like you were sort of anonymous..."

i read this on the internet. is it true?

good goddamn i hope not...or i shouldn't say, 'i hope not...'...i am just not a big fan of 'shifty eyed smalltalk' and i have a GIANT crush on one of my myspace friends...he's on the radio...yeah...

yipes!

xo alice.

rebellion is annoying

ok, don't get me wrong...i am all for rebellion...in fact, i fucking love it.

when i hate it is when my body rebels against me and makes me sick!

fuck my body!
fuck my sore throat!
fuck my runny nose!
fuck my missing voice!
fuck not having any energy!
fuck you body!

ok, that was a bit militant...and i know i said fuck way too many times but i hate being sick...

...and i was hoping to have some chicken soup fedexed from fort mac but that seems to no longer be an option...

damn!

fuck it!

xo alice.

the tattoo saga pt. 4

so, it continues...

i went to ink machine this afternoon to meet with danny and lemme tell you...i am pumped! we had a good chat about what i want and how he'll be able to do that. we had an intense discussion about shading and how to keep it looking good and dynamic as it ages...it was cool. he asked if i wanted the angel in-flight or just about to take off...the difference being in her torso and legs: because if she was in-flight her legs might be kind of droopy and fairylike and if she was about to take off they would be a lot more grounded...i opted for grounded...

...the more we talked the more excited i got and from what i hear danny is the one of the BEST tattoo artists in western canada (which is awesome...) and probably the best in edmonton. the only two drawbacks to going to the best is that it's a bit more expensive ($125/hr. compared to $100/hr at ritualistics) and it takes forever to get an appointment...like late summer/early fall...c'est la vie!

i was thinking about getting something else done in the meantime by michelle at ritualistics but there really isn't anything i want...although, michelle has got this new black light (hot pink) sensitive pigment in so i may get her to do some stars on my hand after the wedding...or before, we'll see...just because hot pink/black light sensitive tattoos would be fuckin' rad.

on the upside of waiting for danny...not only is he good but he's also pretty fucking gorgeous...looks a bit like johnny depp to be honest...very similar features and build...

oh, and apprentice boy was there and not wearing a hoodie this time...nope, tight hot (but not cheesy) t-shirt and damn!...so sexy!!

anyhow, the saga continues...i am getting touched up on the first so i'll have something to add then and maybe we'll see about the stars then... and there will be some piercing before as well...

go body modification...bring on the needles!

xo alice.

p.s. wanna see how fucking amazing danny's work is...go to http://inkmachinetattoo.com/mainframeset.htm

the end of an [emo] era

HAPPY FAMILY DAY!

dear and faithless readers,

some of you may or may not have noticed that i have been a little pre-occupied with a boy who i have decided to call john. his name of course isn't john...my name of course isn't alice... but that isn't the point... the point is i am sick of all that fucking emo garbage that has been spewing forth from my lips for the past little while...enough is enough!

john is coming to edmonton, apparently, to see his girlfriend. i am not his girlfriend. i never have been and i never will be. he didn't tell me he was coming to town, a friend told me....

he's gone from here. he loves her and the ocean and his guitar...

i accept that and from this moment forth i have moved the fuck on...no more wallowing in selfpity and no more blogging about it. (after today or if i happen to see him)

fuck yeah!

instead, i am going to continue to have crushes on unattainable boys who will never know i want to fuck them, or that i even exist for that matter... that's a way better, healthier kind of masochism...

right now: this guy who is on the radio (and an internet friend of mine)... and maybe the guitar player still a little.

so that's that.

good bye john you shameless motherfucker...
until we meet again

xo alice.

p.p.s: is it interesting that i posted this post at midnight?

a plethora of theatrical blech!

so this past weekend...i lie, this past 48 hours (it's a long weekend) i have seen 5 one-act plays (one of them being my own) and 2 full length plays.

that's a whole hell of a lot of theatre...here's the problem...only ONE of those 7 shows (and not mine) was really fantastic...the other full length was pretty ok but generally i was disappointed with yesterday's 6.5 shows ( i saw .5 because mine was technically on friday night)...

there just wasn't anything new or interesting or even particularly outstandingly well done. the thing with the one acts that i was involved in was that they were all really sickeningly amateur (mine included and one excluded) and there was no surprise when the winners were announced (it was a competition) because those guys that won win everything...they are the best at never doing anything different...

now, i know this may be making me sound a little bit like 'princess bitter' but i assure you i'm not; it's hard to be bitter about a show that you didn't love and didn't work too too hard on not winning...i'm just bitter that it's all gotten so boring and that even the stuff that is suppose to be 'cutting edge' is no sharper than an old fuckin' table spoon...the only thing these artists are challenging is your ability to stay awake and think of some bullshit positive comments to make after their show...

now, this may also sound like me being, 'oh, i am so much better than you because i am using a sharp fuckin' knife when i make art...' ew! please, i am not that pretentious and in no way do i think that highly of myself...i WANT to make art like that someday but right now i am still treading water in the shallow end with the kids that shit in the pool...which is fine because we all gotta start somewhere...

now, the show i saw tonight...

wait, can i just sidebar and say that i have started the last three paragraphs with 'now,...' funny....i have no intention of changing it but i thought it would let y'all know that i noticed it too...

now, the show i saw tonight wasn't breaking down any borders or attempting to do anything that hadn't been done before but it was show created and mounted with honesty and heart and by two people who genuinely love what they do...

if you aren't going to 'reinvent the wheel' (which is not what i am asking for...) then at least do what you're going to do honestly and with love; that shouldn't be too much to ask....or maybe it is...

xo alice.

p.s. organic raisins are WAY better than chemical raisins...for reals kids!
p.p.s. the spell checker wants to turn fuckin' into puccini...heh heh!

tom waits' lover...

...yeah, that'd be me kids...

here's why:

ALICE by Tom Waits and Kathleen Brennan

It's dreamy weather we're on You wave your crooked wand Along an icy pond With a frozen moon A murder of silhouette crows I saw...And the tears on my face And the skates on the pond they spell Alice I'll disappear in your name But you must wait for me Somewhere beneath the sea There's the wreck of a ship Your hair is like meadow grass On the tide And the raindrops on my window And the ice in my drink Baby all i can think of is Alice Arithmetic Arithmetock I turn the hands back on the clock How does the ocean rock the boat How did the razor find my throat The only strings that hold me here Are tangled up around the pier And so a secret kiss Brings madness with the bliss And I will think of this When I'm dead in my grave Set me adrift and I'm lost over there But I must be insane To go skating on your name And by tracing it twice I fell through the ice Of Alice There's onely Alice

i know i said i don't like capital letters but i have to write it as written right? right...

oh, and yeah, i'd fuck tom waits...that gravely voiced sex machine...well, i'm guessing he's a sex machine...

the point: how hot is it to have a song written about you by tom fuckin' waits?

xo alice.

and a final postscript on the day

p.s. my little crushie-poo made this 45 min 'soundtrack' and gave me a copy of it...it's amazing.

also, he came out with us this evening and conversation was next to impossible...in a good way and in a really terrible way...y'know?

p.p.s. the (international) noise conspiracy is coming to edmonton and opening for and you will know us by the trail of dead...

i can hardly fuckin' wait...may 17...and i have already got my tix!!

xo alice.

the tattoo saga pt. 3

so i went with my little sis today to ritualistics to visit michelle for a little while (the sis is getting inked next week) and it was so good to see her...i felt nice there. happy, content, etc...

i am getting touched up on the first and michelle has this pigment from japan that is black light sensitive (ie: glows) and is also hot pink... i am thinking a little knuckle star might be kind of hot...

on a related note there is this guy, jonny, who works at ritualistics as a piercer, who i have a little mega-crush on for like close to two years. he is covered in tattoos and he's now got some nice tunnels in his ears and his septum pierced...he used to have small plugs and both eye brows done... the new look is super hot...

so, michelle goes to photocopy my sisters design and lifts some baked good off the copier stating, oh so casually, 'jonnycat's got himself a new girlfriend..."

motherfucker...

anyhow, i need to get tattooed...i can't wait til march 1

xo alice.

oh sweet christ, not again

so guess who may or may not be coming to town...

...john...

motherfucker. that is the last thing i need...

xo alice.

rental cars are weird

so i normally drive a little silver saturn and i like it...i am used to it's height and blind spots and all that jazz...i don't have to adjust the mirrors or the radio stations or any of that...we co-exist quite well.

but now saturn is in the shop getting a new hood after a little tussle with an audi tank and i have a rental.

the rental is nice...it's new cavalier and it's fuck-me-red...but it's weird and there are no programmed radio stations and my garage door opener is in the ashtray and there's no place for my cell phone. also, i am finding it difficult to tell how long the car is and where the blindspots are and i am adjusting the mirrors every five seconds...

i miss my car... and i never thought i would.

ah well...

xo alice.

and so i melted...

the guilt overcame me and i had couldn't post what was posted here...why didn't i just erase all traces of said post...well, that would be deceitful and i am trying to be honest here.


xo alice.

what kind of vd did you have?

valentines day that is...

get your minds out of the gutter...alice has never had vd in her life...at least not that she's aware of...

wait, why am i talking in the third person? because it's the cool thing to do...ha ha!

so, yesturday was valentines day and i admit i woke up and puked a little in my mouth. i'm single and i don't like valentines. the two aren't related but they seem to be smushed together by all those "rub in yer face" lovies...y'know the chicks who think you feel bad about being single and tell you, 'don't worry, you're prince will come...'

jesus fuck ladies! my life isn't a goddamn disney movie and i like it that way...i'd prefer if my prince never came, princes' exploit human capital and have imperialist tendencies...i'd prefer you say, 'don't worry, your comrade in arms will come...' and even then...

but here's the problem...all vd i wanted my prince to come. i wanted to answer the phone or open an email and have some boy whom i wasn't expecting to be declaring his love for me on the most romantic day of the year...sure, there's one boy in particular i would have liked to have been on the otherside of that wish...well two actually but the first was probably lost in emoland composing lame-ass songs about broken hearts and sunday mornings to the girl he chose over me...or didn't choose i suppose, i wasn't an option...

i digress...it's pathetic i know but...even if it was my musician crush (eep...they're both musicians) who isn't all emo...i wouldn't have shed a happiness tear...

but that didn't happen. he did email me though, the non-emo musician - the musician to whom all my hideous emo rantings have NOT been dedicated- but only because i sent him a passive aggressive guilt trip email for acting like a hipster prick...his email was really nice though and i think he figured out that i was mad...good thing he's shy and equally passive aggressive...

i guess i just figured out why no one wants to give me vd...

here's to redundancy!
xo alice.

p.s. pink and red don't clash see...
p.p.s. spell check wants to change emoland to emolliant...ha hha hahaha

dear hipster assholes

dear hipster assholes,

this seems to be a common theme for me but i am just going to run with it.

there are two types of seriously shitty hipster, which are you?

1) the -i'm-too-cool-for-school-but-don't-know-shit type? or the 2) well-since-i've-heard-of-experimentalsupergroupx-i-must-be-better-than-you-and-will-make-sure-you're-aware-of-it type?

please decide before you read on because i will now refer to you by number (the definitions take too long to write out with all those hyphens). if you feel like you may fall into both categories for one reason or another you are SUPER asshole and should probably read both. if you are neither brand of asshole read both sections just for a laugh...you're allowed to laugh at a hipster, they've laughed at you.

dear hipster asshole number one.

remember the time we had that class together and you were talking to that guy with subpop stickers all over his water bottle about that band that was playing that night? well, i like that band and the moment arose so i spoke up,

'hey that experimentalsupergroupx show is going to be fuckin' aces tonight eh?'

and all you did was role your eyes and sigh loudly to the equally asshole-ish hipster with the subpop stickers all over his waterbottle.

look, sweetie, you know fuck all about me. you know fuck all about the authenticity of my punk experience and you're bleached out hair with it's ironic angula cut in no way make you better than me...

later tonight at the experimentalsupergroupx show we'll be in the same boat...actually we'll have both been kicked out of the same boat left to flail akwardly in the water while far too many hipster asshole number 2's point, with stella in hand, ironically and pretentiously laughing at us not missing a beat in there thrilling dialogue about the ironic commentary on post modern post hardcore the band about to take the stage is making with their black shirts they've painted white...

fuck you,
alice.

dear hipster asshole number 2

fuck you a little bit more.

ok, i will admit that my musical knowledge is not as well developed as yours. it never will be. you came out of the womb knowing more about music than i did. that is a given and i accept that. i also accept that you are far more 'hip' on the lastest in white belts and skinny ties and not only do you have ironic angular haircuts, you also provide them for people during the day. i also accept the fact that you will always look better in $300 jeans and stillettos. all of this is fuckin' cool by me...

what i will never understand is how all this makes you better than me. if i ask you about a band or attempt to engage in a tete-a-tete with you about the postmodern implications of neonewwave on a posthardcore/postpunk scene you should welcome my desire to converse...

if you shut me out your world will only get smaller and then you and the 16 guys in the neonewwave postpunk posthardcore band can sit around alone at the bar masturbating and talking about your new cool jeans and haircuts.

oh, and for all you music snobs who feel this category doesn't apply because you aren't into fashion...fuck you ever more because at least the hipsters who are into fashion aren't quite as singularly focused. get a fuckin' cool haircut and a great pair of jeans and you'll fit right in. oh and if you're worried that you're becoming a hipster don't...you already are one...

pppppppbbbbbbbbbbbbbttttt! (that's a spitting noise)
alice


now, you, dear reader, are probably thinking to yourself, 'alice, where is all this hostility coming from' or perhaps, 'yeah, fuck you right back...you're as much of a hipster as i am...' and i will admit that i have on a couple of occasions been accused of being a bit of a hipster but if i was anything it was a wanna-be...i long to be a hipster asshole number 2 but i can't do it...they won't accept me into their ranks...my knowledge base is too small...i exist on the fringes discovering bands weeks after it was cool to do so...it's always, 'that's so yesterday' for me...

so, where is the hostility coming from? well, hipster asshole number 1 is someone my sister encountered last week when she happened to share in this chicks excitement over the imminent performance of the weakerthans in our fair city...later she overheard this chick talking about what poseur the chick with the pink streaks (my sister) was...fuck that shit!

hipster assholes number 2 are my two musicians...one of whom i have a MASSIVE crush on...tonight they were going on and on about how edmonton audiences fail to see the irony of contemporary electronica...or something to that affect, and when i attempted to join the conversation (it was interesting and i have opinions about it...) they called a quick end to the conversation and made a quick exit...assholes...

and god did i want to be able to keep up with them....

i guess in some ways this is also an apology to all those i have been shitty too about their musical tastes...except that seb reflex asshole from myspace...i am not sorry to him...it fuckin' sucks! sorry...

xo alice.

the tattoo saga pt. 2

ok...this is my third fucking attempt at this damn post. every time i hit the goddamn backspace button it takes me back a page deleting everything i had written...fuck!

i digress, this ladies and gents is an update.

in response to pt. 1 louise said:
I think you should get a tattoo on your pifty. If it means that the hot tattoo artist gets to touch your snatch, you should go for it...for reals.

well louise darling, i hate to disappoint but hot tattoo artist will not be tattooing my pifty because i will not be having my pifty tattooed nor will he be tattooing me at all...notice how i didn't say he won't be touching my snatch though...because i hope he will be...

what will be happening is hopefully his collegue danny will be tattooing me (not my pifty) after we have our little consultation the week after next. i did book the appointment with the hottie boy and his voice (combined with how hot i know he is) made me all creamy in my panties...

so here's the update:
february 24, 2005 at 12:30pm at ink machine...consult with danny re: angel on left breast/rib and full right arm sleeve...

xo alice.

the tattoo saga pt 1.

well ladies and gents i have decided to document my quest into the world of the heavily tattooed. it was meant to begin today. i was meant to be heading down to ritualistics to get a touch-up on my wrist and allow that little bit of beautiful pain jumpstart my path to sleeve-land.

but alas fair reader, michelle (my tattoo artist) was sick today and i could not get the work done.

sad sad sad...

march 1st ladies and gentlemen...3 weeks and i will be touched up. i may head to ink machine before that and get the ball rolling on some serious work...

i'll keep you posted.

xo alice.

the birth and death of a friendship

ok...so it's been a while since i have posted so i am catching up...

lately, i have been addicted to myspace.com and i wanted to share the birth and death of a myspace friendship with y'all...cuz it's fucked!

ok...well i deleted some of them so i will post what i can...

first this is not about sex or dating. i thought he looked cool. he was from montreal and loved a lot of the bands i liked...

so i added him by saying:

i saw radio berlin in edmonton earlier in the year! best edmonton club show of 2004!

he (Seb Reflex) responded:

you say radio berlin live?

then we messaged back and forth, etc...

finally, like yesturday, i noticed that he was a fan of the hideous scottish band franz ferdinand. now, anyone who knows me will tell you that i HATE franz ferdinand and send letters to magazines asking them not to print articles about them anymore (seriously)...so i messaged seb something to the effect of franz ferdinand suck my anus...(less graphic of course) and asked him what he likes about them etc all in an attempt to engage him in a dialogue about music...which i love by the by...and his response was as follows:

go fuck yourself, don t talk to me like that,,,,
you cant force someone to listen to what you think is good, i hate emo but i won t tell to the emos to stop listenin what they want,, i won t waste my time, just FUCK YOU!

then he deleted me and we aren't friends anymore...

i was upset. i got this email at like 7:30am...it's ruined my day...go fuck yourself?!? seriously, isn't that a little over the top? i thought so...this was my reply:

wow...that's really hostile dude...i tell EVERYONE not to listen to franz ferdinand...i even write letters to magazines...just chill...it really isn't worth telling me to fuck off over. jesus christ....what a way to wake up...fuck!

seriously, those fucking hipsters kill me every time!

anyhow, have a good day!


xo alice

and an old one rekindled...

lemme give you some back story about my dad.

he was born in kingston jamaica in 1950. his mother died when he was very young and his father got remarried to a german woman. in 1963 his father died and his stepmother moved them back to germany...trier, specifically. while in trier he went to high school on a nearby us army base at bitburg. he was allowed to go to an american school not only because he didn't speak german but because in 50s in jamaica you had to choose between british and american citizenship...his mother was an american and therefore so was he...after graduation my dad was drafted into the vietnam war. his stepmother wrote a letter saying that he has never lived in the us and therefore will not fight. he didn't fight but was forced to give up his american citizenship. in 1971 he moved to montreal to go to university and the rest as they say is history...

flash ahead to 2005...my dad has made his way across the country and is now nearly 55...it's been over 30 since he was in high school...37 i believe...

three weeks ago he was checking some online banking stuff and came across one of those find your long lost classmates websites...he found bitburg high, registered and heard nothing.

then this morning he gets a message from a very old friend saying that his sister recognized my dad's name on the website. so my dad emailed this paul guy, told him to look at his business website and some small details of the past 37 years and at 3:15pm this afternoon the phone at work rings, i answer and pass it off to my dad and lo and behold it's paul...

so i sat for the next 20 minutes and listened to my dad, more excited then i had heard him sound in months, reminisce about old girlfriends, friends lost in vietnam (thank god he didn't go...) and the present. it was so exciting.

it's those moments ladies and gentlemen that you realise not only did your parents have a life before you and that it was probably pretty rad but; that life and love and relationships and friends are pretty fuckin' rad and that we should hang on to those times because when we get that call in 37 years there'd better be something to talk about...

'night

xo alice

i hate the law

hello kids,
before i begin i would like to apologize for previous posts wherein i cried and expressed myself all over the internet. that is not what online journals are for...they are not for emotions. that what emo is for...so i will spare you the intense whining i have been involved in and go back to doing what i do best: complaining about the stupid and arbitrary...

like insurance claims for example...

on the weekend i got into a little fender bender. no one was hurt and louise and i were able to continue along on our tattoo shopping trip but it's become a HUGE pain in my ass...ok, ok, it probably should be a huge pain in my ass, afterall i was at fault and i have now discovered that it's going to be a little expensive...

whatever...the reason that i hate the law is because of all the redtape hoop jumping i have to do.
1) hit someone
2) go to the police station and get treated like a criminal again...
3) go home and cry
4) call insurance company and get treated like a stupid criminal again...
5) talk to insurance adjuster and not understand a word they say
6) wait for a four hour window for the estimator to come...he comes 5 minutes after you could have gone for lunch, as a result you miss dim sum...fuck!
7) wait for the body shop to call you
8) schedule an appointment with the body shop after they tell you that your shitty ass insurance company will only cover 60% of your bumper repair
9) scrounge together $700 and decide that there is no way you'll be able to go to coachella this year...damn car!

so that's why i hate the law...i am in stage 9 and it's hard kids...$700 is a lot of cash-o-la! fuck! fortunately, the front bumper damage is my sister's fault so she's paying $350...now i am only scrounging $350...not too shabby...still can't go to coachella though...

so, i hate the law...they treat like a criminal just because you got in a ACCIDENT and then they stick needles in your eyes and take all your money. fuck!

xo alice