jealous of my weekend in NEW YORK?

...you probably should be. so should you and you and you and especially you.

ha ha.

so yeah, i spent a couple weekends ago on manhatten enjoying myself completely and not once thinking about the seven-zillion things keeping me busy and annoyed in good ol' edmitten.

now, i'm sure you're wondering how the fuck i affored to just jet off to new york for the weekend...some backstory:

in 2004 i graduated from the uofa as did my friend katie. katie got accepted to the mfa acting program at new school university in nyc (also houses parson's school of design if you're curious) and moved herself to new york. i visited her during thanksgiving of the same year. we watched a parade and drank our faces off.

then about a year ago i met a boy, got a little caught-up in good kisses and intimacy and some pretty strong feelings. he moved to the other side of the country and i was suppose to go for a visit. a few days before i was suppose to leave he tells me he didn't want me to come. the results were a broken/demolished heart and a credit with air canada.

so i had to use this credit by the booking date of my flight which was early june and since may is going to be full up with rehearsals i decided i needed to go asap. initially i was going to go to chicago for the weekend because i love it so much but it would have been an additional $200 as opposed to the extra $60 that i am required to pay for changing my flight. so nyc it was.

i hadn't planned on staying with katie because the last time we'd spoken she was living in jersey with her boyfriend and i wanted to be on manhanttan and whatever so i texted her and said, 'yo! i'm coming to nyc! wanna have a drink?' and she texted back saying, 'the bf and i broke up. i'm living in the east village! please come stay with me; i need a taste of home!' so it was set. how could i resist nyc at this point. I COULDN'T! so i booked my flight and i was set to go.

so the trip itself was rad. the last time i was in nyc i was really overwhelmed and i didn't totally love it but this time i was more familiar with it and knew where i was and where i was going and i knew where i wanted to go. i fell in LOVE LOVE LOVE with that goddamn city. it's amazing. it's unparalled. all the things people say about new york are true.

so i hear you wanted details...here they are.

thursday april 20, 2006

4:10am: wake up and finish packing. i'm slightly hungover from sex talk and snazzy drinks with the girls but i'm excited. the hangover passes quickly.

i had to get up so early because i had to be at the airport before 5:30am and my dad was suppose to be picking me up 4:30.

4:45am: dad still hasn't arrived. i call him and he's forgotten to set his alarm. he tells me to take a cab to his place (half-way to the airport-in millwoods) and he'll pay the cab driver and then we'll go the airport.

5:00am: arrive at dad's. he pays the (really nice) cab driver and we leave.

5:20am: we arrive at the airport, pull up to air canada say our goodbyes and i check in. i have to automatic check-in, that's new, but it's easy so i'm happy. i then go through security and wait in the excruciatingly long line-up for a soy chai latte that tastes like dishsoap. i chuck it. i don't want to wait in that INSANE line again...so whatever.

7:00am: my flight leaves on time and i am off to the tdot.

time sort of gets lost at this point. i sleep through my flight to toronto, go through customs, get a sandwich...wait. wait. wait. wait.

i get a little mad in toronto. i see this family. two girls and a boy. the girls are probably 8 and 11 at most and they're reading teen cosmo and teen vogue and teen people and talking about lipstick and celebrities. girls need to be girls. those magazine send such a scewed image of adolesence and those girls weren't looking at it critically and their mom was encouraging them...'oh yes daughter, that lipstick would look great on you!' SHE'S FUCKING EIGHT! let kids be kids and teach them to look critically at the media. just because it's published doesn't it make 'true' or right or a fair representation of life...

5:40pm: i arrive at new york's laguardia airport. laguardia is actually in queens but it's a short trip to manhanttan. so i call katie, get her address and decide to splurge on a taxi. the taxi driver takes the 'bridge route' to avoid the toll on the tunnel and so i get to see manhattan as we drive onto the island. it's amazing. it opens up before you like the mouth of the beast and you want nothing more than to crawl right in and get lost.

$26 later i arrive in the east village (avenue a and e. 5th st. to be exact)
to give a little perspective about where in nyc i am.
cbgb's is on bowrey and 2nd ave. (joey ramone ave)
avenue a is one block below 1st ave. bowrey is between 7th and 8th st. (i think).
so that's where i am. it's a fucking famous part of town.

6:20pm: katie's place. i get there just as she's getting home from school. she lives on the third floor of her building so we walk up the stairs. her apartment is TINY and expensive but i love it because when you look outside you see the back of buildings with fire escapes bolted to the ancient brick* and gardens and noise and the entire world below you.

katie and i just talk for the next couple of hours. or, katie talks for the next couple of hours. she's stressed as fuck about school and her ex boyfriend and her ex ex boyfriend and all things in general. katie is stress. it's the one thing i will never forget about her. drama personified.

all that talking makes us hungry so we decide to head out and find some supper.

9:00pm: we decide, after walking around alphabet city (below 1st ave) for a little while that we want indian food.

here's one of the many awesome things about new york: there is a whole street in the e. village of indian food restuarants. the managers stand outside and try to intice you into their restuarant.

we pick a tiny little place about half the size of cafe mosaics with the ceiling covered in streamers and mirrors and chili lights. it's cozy and red and smells like heaven. we eat pounds and pounds of food. we don't drink cuz we forget that most of those restuarants are byob (yep, byob) so we just chat and catch up more. we remember parties and who we had stupid makeouts and fights with. it's great to see her again.

11:00pm: we finish dinner and it's cheap (like $25 for the both of us...) and we walk around some more totally lost in chatting.

12:30am: we get back to katie's place. have a glass of wine and pass out. i'm exhausted after a day of travelling and her stress and wiped her out.

i do not sleep well.

friday, april 21, 2006.

11:00am: i wake up after a restless sleep and a little bit of a 'post-airplane ride' sniffle but i'm good to go. katie has school all day and rehearsal in the evening to i decide that my day is going to be taken up with art and theatre. yay!

12:00pm: i get on the subway and head to upper east side to go to the whitney museum of american art and i'm lucky because a) the last time i was there it was closed and b) they have their biennial on. the biennial showcases the best in current american art.

the really interesting thing about this year's exhibit, aside from the fucking amazing work, was that for the first time the whitney included artists who were not born in the united states but emmigrated to the states and have something to say about their experience relating to the 'american dream'.

i love that contemporary art never fails to remind me that artists are political beings. that art for art's sake is fine but to express dissent and question the world you live in is paramount. these artists question and fight and rally their collective voice against sexism, racism, war, hurt, etc...it's amazing. i spent the afternoon inspired.

i also love the fact that these amazing visual artists are unafraid to mix media and to play with the tools of their craft. i wish theatre artists were more commited to collaboration with other (non theatre) artists and mixing media. we are so rooted and eaten up by tradition that we can't get out. i hate it!

(i wanted to post pics but the whitney website uses flash and i don't know how to copy flash into my blog...sorry)

so after the whitney i was totally inspired and fired up so i decided to go see a play. katie had told me a lot about a new adam rapp play called red light winter at the barrow street theatre in the west village. (lower west side).

6:oopm: leave the whitney and head to the subway. i head back downtown on a mission to get a $20 student rush ticket to the play, it's $65 otherwise. theatre in nyc ain't cheap! so i get downtown, get my ticket and realise i am fucking hungry!

6:30pm: i get a sandwich and some delicious iced tea at this lovely little deli in greenwich village and sit infront of the window looking out on bleeker street and people watch. i am falling more and more with new york in that exact moment. for the first time i realise that i could in fact, live in new york city. financially it isn't really possibly but artistically and emotionally i could do it. i felt good and safe and relaxed and full.

7:00-7:40pm: i grab a latte and walk around greenwich. i am in and out of record stores mostly and am completely overwhelmed. vinyl only, used only, electronic only, anything you want in the world can be found in new york. goldfrapp and stereolab seem to feature predominantly and i smile because i've heard of them. it makes the snob in me happy to know that bands i listen to and love are popular in new york hipster record stores too! god...i don't buy anything. there isn't time to really look. the play is starting!

8:00pm-10:30pm: red light winter by adam rapp plays at the barrow street theatre. i sit in the same audience with kathy bates. she is beautiful and no one approaches her. new yorkers are obviously used to seeing celebrities at the theatre or are just too cool to make a big deal about it. i just remembered katie telling me about congratulating phillip seymour hoffman on his oscar. ha ha.

so red light winter...coming from a sold out run at steppenwolf in chicago it was getting a lot of press in nyc and had an open run. that's cool but the play itself was only alright. i have a feeling it was getting a lot of hype for the sexual content and the 'grit'...the female actress seemed unfocussed and when she wasn't talking she looked like her mind was elsewhere, one of the two guys was underdeveloped but the third was amazing. i think the play suffered for the press and suffered for the fact that it was seen as being edgy and representative of the existential crisis faced by artists as they approach their 30s. the whole, 'peterpan' complex thing...it's cliche and we've all seen it; putting a cock on the stage isn't going to make all that much of a difference. it was still good though, just not THAT good.

11:30pm: there was a tonne of weird train things going on and i was suppose to meet katie nearby but she had a breakdown after seeing her ex with another girl so we met back up at her place, drank some wine, ordered some pizza and chatted. mostly i just witnessed katie's complete and total nervous break down complete with hysterics, embarassing text messages and declarations of, 'i'll never fall in love in again'.

3:30am: katie tired me out. i passed out. gah...

saturday, april 22, 2006

11:00am: wake up! katie has rehearsal from 2-4 but we both really want to go to see the munch exhibit at MoMA so we agree to meet up in front of the museum at 4 and then we'll check it out and then get some food and then go to a house party.

12:30-3: SHOPPING and walking.

so there's this fantastic little record store about 12 steps from katie's place that specializes in experimental electronic music and indie rock. etherea: damn sexy.

so i spend $100US on music. wanna know what i bought? this is, afterall, suppose to be detailed.

so here's the list. judge away, hipsters.

matias aguayo:are you really lost. kompakt
pitchfork doesn't really like and i heard this called 'micro-house' and i have no idea what that means. who cares, i dig this album hardcore. it's HOT, made for dancing and fucking and dark dark clubs.

tortoise: millions now living will never die. thrill jockey.
i know this is old. i know i should have got it a long time ago. i've never seen it in edmonton. granted i wasn't really looking that hard. tortoise makes me cry.

venetian snares: winnipeg is a frozen shithole. sublight records.
i just found out a venetian snares a little while ago whilst on the hunt for something insanely abrasive. venetian snares definately does that. but it grew on me. meathole was one of the best of 2005. i like this album. it's YUMMY!

deerhoof: the runners four. kill rock stars
DELICIOUS!

ok...i'm sick of pseudo-reviews and editing html all over the place...i also got: stereo total's 'my melody', tortoise and bonnie "prince" billy's 'the brave and the bold' ('daniel' kills me. sick!), hella's 'bitches ain't shit but good company' and yeah, i think that's it. they're all wicked good albums so i chose well. oh yeah, and i got this tiny little mum ep but the dude forgot to put the cd in the case...fuck! i have to remember to email them and see if there's something to be done.

after cd shopping i wandered around the e. village, popped into bowrey tattoo out of curiosity-that's where the first 'skin' tattoo was done-a project that i am a part of- and then just mosied my through the east village towards the nyu area.

nyu isn't like the uofa. i don't really know why but i am sure it's the brownstones and the crack heads in washington square park but there is a totally different vibe. maybe it's cuz nyu doesn't reek of oil money and coke funding the way the uofa does...who knows. either way, i wish they had an mfa program in directing, but they don't... c'est la vie.

so i finish browing and katie calls me a little earlier than expected so i head down to meet her and we head uptown to the museum of modern art: MoMA for the Edvard Munch exhibit.

i don't know what to tell you. never have a i seen a more timely exhibit. Munch painted what he saw-not accurate naturalistic representations-but the heart of people and places and experience. he captured what few painters, in my humble opinion, were able to do-he painted the soul of the person as opposed to their face. "the scream" wasn't there, it was stolen and no one knows where it was but i didn't need to be there.

our world is so completely fucked up and every day it just seems to get worse and worse and it becomes hard to maintain any level of optimism. we're at a point in our collective existence when we sit and look out our windows and wonder how god couldn't be dead. how we're hanging on by anything more than a thread. our bodies are being held together by nothing more than skin. in an act of futile self-preservation we zone out even more, we lose ourselves in television and meaningless everything, and rely more on more on the things that ultimately are harming us. what the munch exhibit reminded me of is how lonely all of this is. we have nothing but each other because god is long dead, if he ever existed at all, and we're all wading through heartbreak and death and shit and all we can do is cling to each other and even then we're still pretty much fucked. it broke my heart and at the same time reminded me that i have people in my life who probably aren't going to stab me in the back for my last scrap of sanity or food or a joint or a beer or whatever.

and the other really cool thing: my friend katie, a fairly shallow albeit amazing girl, was moved to tears by munch. granted, it wasn't the looming global existential crisis that got her but her broken heart splashed all over munch's canvases; but it did something for her...

after the exhibit we went looking for jackson pollack because katie had never seen one but they weren't on display so we planted ourselve's down amongst the contemporary digital design exhibit and talked about art and politics and whether or not art for art's sake is a responsible position for an artist to take given the current state of affairs or whether we have a greater responsibility. we also had a really interesting discussion about politics in general. katie comes from oil money and her parents raised her to be very conservative in her political beliefs. for a time she was lending, all the way from calgary, her full support to bush and the war. we didn't talk about politics ever back then...if nothing else living in new york these past two years has really broadended her horizons and at almost 25 she's starting to find her own perspectives. the first thing to go? her support for the war. thank god!

anyways, after an amazing conversation we went for supper and then made our way to a house party one of her classmates was throwing.

here's the deal: the party was fun. it was a party. drinking, chatting, the usual. although, i was totally weirded out by the fact that not a single person at that party smoked weed or had any weed...weird...whatever. so it was a party. more specifically, it was a drama party and it was disheartening to discover that no matter where you go and no matter where you come from drama parties and drama kids (in theatre school) are all the same. i like to think that in my two years out in the 'real world' i have lost some of the 'drama kid'-isms i am sure i once possessed. i'm pretty sure of this because by 2:30am i NEEDED to leave.

seriously, the volume and the spectacle was too fucking much.

and i was a little disappointed because the lovely cadence weapon was playing a show in nyc on that same night and i wouldn't have minded checking it out but katie wasn't into it and she needed a friend. i couldn't in good conscience ditch her for rollie.

we got back to katie's about 3:30 and we chatted for a little while longer. mostly she raged about some of her classmates and her ex and all that shit i am so glad i left behind when i graduated and then we passed out.

oh, did i mention it was raining INSANELY hard? no, i don't think i did...between our walk to MoMA, the restuarant, and amy's house (the party hostess) we were soaked to the bone. everything i was wearing was wet and i shivered all night long...

the next morning was no different. rain! rain! rain!

sunday, april 23, 2006.

11:00am: wake up.

i have to be at the airport around 1:30 to flu home so katie and i decide to go for breakfast and celebrate a last rainy sunday. it take four blocks for me to find the BEST BREAKFAST i have ever had. we went to a place called magador (or something-it sounded like matador but wasn't) and we had:

- fresh squeezed oj made partly, i think, from blood oranges. it had a pinky tinge and tasted like europe. or at least italy and how i remember it.

- green salad.

- hashbrowns cut from organic red baby potatoes cooked just right.

- spinach, tomatoe and goatcheese omelette that was pretty much the greatest omelette i'd ever eaten in my entire life. not even pretty much, absolutely the best breakfast i'd ever had in my life.

i could live in new york for that breakfast alone.

st. mark's place between 1st and avenue a-if you're ever there.

1:45pm: i arrive at the airport, i sit and i wait and then i fly. i get home at 10 after stops in montreal and ottawa. ironic that at the end of all of it i still found myself in ottawa.

so that's that. i don't really know how to end this. as i write these last few lines almost two weeks since i got home i am feeling some tears and a little twinge of sadness and i don't know if the conversation i'm having with someone who i wish i knew better or if it's because we're talking about new york or if it's new york itself...all i know is i feel something and i kind of like it.

i'm altogether less overwhelmed by the whole thing, i suppose.

sorry this was so long.

love love love
michelle.

*a prize to anyone who tells me where i stole that line from.

FUCK YOU, alan!

there's this dude alan,

he sells chemicals. today he was in inquiring about the success or lack thereof of his company's new environmentally degreaser. the other stuff-the environmentally unfriendly stuff-is hella nasty. i won't go near that shit.

so alan comes in and he's in before and he's obsessed with my boss' personal life and with telling me OVER AND OVER AGAIN how inappropriate and unattractive my tattoo is. today he was EXTRA grossed out by it because it's kinda oozy...what? it's new! FUCK! he's such a dick i can't even explain.

i appreciate anyone's right NOT to like it, that's fine. i don't like that fact that you choose (and it's all about PERSONAL CHOICE) to drive a GIGANTIC suv and kill babies with all the pollutants you're spewing into the air. it's ok alan, i didn't want kids anyways. sterilization is a-ok by me.

alan, i am not going to hell because i have tattoos. i'm still a nice person and you telling my dad on me isn't going to do anything. nor is telling me how gross you think they are. seriously, what am i suppose to say?

"you're right alan, i'll get straight to work on getting them removed. god, what would i do without you?! don't tell your wife but i LOVE you!"

FUCK!

it's not ok to treat me like that because i look different than you think 'the boss' daughter' is suppose to look like. god!

ok, i know this, in the grand scheme of things, isn't a big deal but he comes in once a week and we have the same goddamn conversation about it. he tells me how gross it is and i laugh to prevent myself from punching him.

/vent.

michelle!

the tattoo saga pt. 14

i'm composing a super-post about nyc but it's gonna take a while so i thought i'd post some new tattoo pics in the mean time. also, i think this is my 300th post so yay for that!

here's the pics:





this last one is of the megabruise that resulted from the fact that johnny presses really hard and my skin on the flabby part of my arm is really sensitive...

i'm back in on may 8th for more yummies! yay!

xo michelle

p.s. the artwork belongs to johnny faulds at urge2 studios in edmonton. the photos are mine. don't steal!

blogvenge.

also known as blog revenge!

i'm annoyed. i wanted to brag about my awesome weekend in new york and about how i didn't get too lost on the subway or about how awesome the new parts of my tattoo are but i can't do that right now.

i'm too pissed off. and it's not revenge persay i just want to call attention to something i find annoying.

ANONYMOUS COMMENTS! grr...

it's cool if you don't have a blogger id but leave your goddamn name when you're going to make snide comments.

a friend of mine posted something that annoyed her (as she had every right to do) and some unknown person decided to get up on their high horse and preach to her.

the thing is, i respect your right to have an opinion on everything, i know i do, but i just think it's childish and immature to hide behind anonymity. if you're 'tough' enough to say it for people to read then be 'tough' enough to fucking put your name behind it.

i hate that because of the internerd we feel as if we're exempt from the personal responsibility of treating someone poorly. you aren't. there is still a person behind that. fuck!

and on that note, if someone out there has a problem with me and something i say and do either on here or in real life tell me. often times i don't realise that i've hurt you and i don't mean to. just tell me. we can work it out. i'm still growing as a person and i totally hate that i say stupid shit all the time. keep me posted, friends.

xo.

the tale of the half-hard man***

before i start a caveat*: i dress like a fucking bum for work every day. there's no such thing as business casual here, despite my office-bitchness. today, for example, i have NOT showered (i did last night), i'm wearing a baggy cursive hoodie, 3/4 length pants, black vans, no socks and i'm listening to black flag right now.

so, i work in a fashion-relaxed environment and i enjoy it BUT i do not enjoy the fact that other people in the automotive industry seem to enjoy their fashion-relaxed work environments a little too much. take pat**, for example, pat's a good guy generally speaking; he's in here a lot and spends a lot of money. spending money makes the higher-ups happy so they don't care that he comes in wearing sweat pants and is...

...ALWAYS VISIBLY HALF-HARD!!

it is so fucking gross. i HATE that i can see the head of this decidedly unattractive man's penis all the time. wear underwear and jerk off before you leave the house or something...

gross! gross! gross!

thus concludes today's saga of the half-hard man but i know he'll be back and i am NOT excited about it...

xo michelle.

*i know someone who uses that word all the time and i love it and never use it so i'm stealing it for this post...
** his name has NOT been changed to protect his anonymity.
*** yes, i realise in the photo the man is not hard and then fully hard but you get the idea. "half erect penis" search might not have gotten me anything...

I HATE RADIO!

i don't hate radio.

i blame radio for my good taste in music. well, i specifically blame cjsr because those motherfuckers play some damn good music.

BUT my radio at work is old and doesn't pick up cjsr very well. this wasn't a problem before because i used to be able to stream it live from indecline but indecline is gone and so i am relegated to listening to sonic. and frankly, sonic sucks ass.

when they first started about a year ago i was pleased to hear a 'rock' station that didn't play theory of a nickle dead fault and provided a little break from the afternoons of post-rock on cjsr.

sonic may not play any of that horribly shitty cancon rock but really it's no better than the bear. boring music is boring music. i am fucking sick of hearing my obnoxious emo-tastic chemical romancen and rage against the machine over and fucking over again.

yes, they play nirvana and the smashing pumpkins and all that old stuff that makes me all nostalgic but it's mixed in with metric and other such shit...

and don't even fucking get me started on metric!

so i'm sitting here listening to sonic, checking out their website, too lazy to go get a cd from my car and wondering what the fuck is up with this shit.

right now they have this contest thing where listeners can co-host for an hour and in order to do this all you have to do is send the dude who runs the show an email telling him what 20 songs you'd play and then if he likes you maybe you get to go there and play them. so then i wonder, 'should i do this?'...i have good taste in rock music and i'd have fun on the radio. so then i get to thinking, 'what 20 songs would i play?'

i don't know...a little bit from the gossip, maybe something from social distortion, who knows...
the point is i'm pretty sure i'd never get on; i doubt an email stating the following would win me any friends at sonic:

dear adam thompson.

you want me to be your co-host for an hour if for no other reason than to allow the public to hear an hour of good music among 23 other wasted hours. i'm sure the majority of your listeners like bands beside gob and rage against the machine. TURN DOWN THE MOTHERFUCKING SUCK, sonic!

here are my 20 songs...

5 classic punk songs
5 local cool as fuck songs
5 songs from the mid 90s that are waaay too cool for sonic to play
5 songs NOT by the yeah yeah yeahs, the strokes, the white stripes, or any other 'contemporary' rock band...

xo xo michelle kennedy

think that'll get me on the radio.

fuck it! i am going home to tonight and i am going to compile the hottest list of rock songs i own.

god, i'm annoyed and i am sure this post is making me sound like a pretentious bitch who thinks she knows more about what is and isn't listenable then 'professional' radio people but i DO. listening to panic! at the disco and fall out boy interspersed with random alternative classics is not good programming...it's annoying.

RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE ARE ANNOYING!

ok...i gotta stop because i could on forever about why listening all day to my chemical romance is going to make me want to kill myself.

and i know there's other music listening devices and usually i'll just put pandora on, type in something i like and chill the fuck out but as you're all aware i'm a bit of a masochist and i like to see just how far they are willing go to annoy me.

xo michelle.

psst...the cops.

this was a 'draft' from march 29. hmmm...

appropos of nothing, i was just sitting outside on my steps enjoying my evening to myself, smoking a joint and watching the stars pass me by. two seconds, not a word of a lie after i go back inside two police officers come strolling down the street. ha! what would have happened if i'd have still be there? curious? a ticket? nothing? what?! now i'm curious.

what i really wanted to blog about: (before my little almost-run-in with the polizei) i was driving home from a movie when i noticed a sign it said:

SPACE AGE
NUCLEAR AGE
RETRO

and it got me thinking about my comp lit class today and our 'age'...we're living in the what, post-modern? post-post-modern. let's call it the post-post modern for arguments sake since i think the post-modern age ended in the 80s. either way, for a large chunk of time post-modernism was the 'it' theory. what's new and hot in critical discourse? POST-MODERNISM, baby...absolute relativism* all the way! now, i know that not ALL post-modernists subscribe to the notion that every single thing, including the computer screen in front of you, is relative. it's all social construction; but some did and if these some were onto something and absolute relativism is the truth then does morality go out the window? in a world where everything around us is a social construction, even our personal relationships, are we ultimately morally bankrupt. theoretically we can do anything or be whomever we choose...what's the control? and i don't mean moral in the religious sense, i just mean moral in the way that we are generally striving to be nice to our fellow human. are we? bankrupt?

and second, in this age where our sort of collective existential crisis has made us all utterly narcissitic, where has the ability to make fun of ourselves gone? i recently read 'the sokol hoax' and the responses to it. essentially, those who were the victims of the hoax makes claims and excuses to essentially deny the personal hurt they felt when there precious intellectually elistist exclusionary methods were satirized. ACK! who else, if not intellectuals based in cultural studies, are hilarious?! people are hilarious...and this is where i lose it...save draft. edit later.

huh...i wonder why i never edited later? i did however figure out why intellectual discourse is a a bad idea when you're stoned. check out the how spectacularly my ability to fuction completely disintegrates...

fucking new york city!

"well, my flight arrives at 4:40 so by the time i get through customs and all that shit i should be on manhatten by 6:30 or so..."

i LOVE that i got to say that sentance. i LOVE that i get to get on an airplane and a few layovers and hours later i will land in a whole new world. a world full of new yorkers.

and amidst it all is the familiarity of a friend.

i am so excited. there is something so amazing about new york. the energy is totally frightening and rejunvenating at the same time.

here i come new york! look cuz i am fucking coming and i am going to get as much out of your little island in 3 days as is humanly possible!

xo michelle.

drug summer

or at least it feels like it is!

i sat outside on my steps this afternoon watching the world go by and decided that this summer is going to be fun and i am going to try new things.

here's a list:

-i'm going to go to a rave. seriously, i have never been to one.
-going along with the rave i am going to try e. yep, i'm serious. i've never done it before.

okay mostly i want to try a bunch of drugs i've never done before. ha ha.
and lots of patio time! so who's up for michelle's drug adventures and patio time?

enjoy!
xo xo michelle.

scrunchy face

fuck this stupid crush shit. i'm done.

or sorta done. more discerning and skeptical at least. let this be the end of michelle 'the crush slut' kennedy.

DONE!

grrrrrrrrr...

michelle vs. the schmooze

there exists something more than just heartbreak or love, anger or the absence of. all those or's are a scary thing.

i felt awkward so i left. that's what happens. i go back to a space, a place, an event i've left behind and it makes me awkward. i stick my foot in my mouth, forget my manners, and say things i might regret 21 seconds later. i tell people things they do not want to hear.

i could have gone to the blackdog. bumped into people, saw some friends but i decide against it. it's cold so i decide, instead, to take the bus home. we're all in the same boat on the bus; it's dark, it's cold amd we've got a bus pass or $2.25 ($2.25?!)

whenever i walk home down that street (my street) i always wonder: is tonight going to be the night i run into that person i'd rather not see? tonight i see him. only in passing (thank god)-i look down the alley and i realise how thankful i am to the bus driver who sat for two extra minutes with his feet on the steering wheel. seeing him tonight would only have reminded me that instincts often lead us down dangerous paths and suddenly a hug is a blow job and a quick fuck in a back alley or a longing for something i know i should never want. we all know there are times we want something we should never ever want. we made eye contact in the dark and i knew he knew it was me. he looked back as i did and i know he recognized my green shoes and awkward proportions.

in that skirt my legs look the same as they did wrapped around his torso.

getting called fat out of a car window and a fight when i walk in the door are really the perfect ends to such whole evening.

the schmooze 1, michelle 0.

xo

four poster bed

i've had a lot to say these past couple of days but i've been editing and steamlining a little so i justed poster four new blog entries but for ease of reading i'll do up a little link thing here:

one:comparison shopping

two:random love-in

three:THE RULES (wherein michelle talks no-strings sex)

four: a rant (motherfucking assholes)

please feel free to comment frequently and wherever you like.

xo michelle.

one: comparison shopping

recent discussions of feminist critical theory have got me thinking about what it means to be a woman in 2006. sometimes i think that we're all pretty much equal and that sex, gender, race, class, sexual orientation, etc are dwarfed by the fact that in the end we're all human...then i remember that that's MY belief and the belief of most of my close friends but not the belief of the rest of the world...the world is still pretty much fucked with the rich white heterosexual men leading us straight to hell on a road paved with gold and 'terrorist' threats.

so what is it like to be a woman in 2006 and i think it's tied closely to our place as consumers. essentially we are comparison shoppers. we're a product and we're always looking for something better to replace ourselves with.

"i want her tits!"

"no, i want her teeth!"

her eyes. her hair. her abs. her heart. her lungs. her ribs. thighs. calves.

i want to BE her instead of me. we can BE whoever we want to be because we can BUY whatever we want. we then get all freaked out because we can't afford to be who we feel we're suppose to be. who we're told we should want to be.

but i think in all this comparison shopping and looking for a better deal or a better future or a better boyfriend or a better whatever we forget that there are probably other women looking at us and comparing their own teeth, hair, jeans, spleen, etc to our own.

i think we've all been so convinced that we simply aren't good enough for whatever we need to be good enough for. and i'm equally guilty of this, we all are. i spend large parts of my days wishing i looked, acted, spoke, thought differently then i do. but i don't. and at some point i have to accept that. i'm not at that point yet.

so who's to blame for comparison shopping? i don't want to come right out and say MEN are to blame! or THE MEDIA is to blame! we're ALL to blame. you can't change anyone but yourself right? right. i think. i don't know. i just know that i don't want to want to be anyone else, even for just a day. i don't want to want what someone else has. i just want to be content.

perhaps discontent is the post-modern condition. i don't know. all this feminist theory has just got me thinking about how i define my own feminity and i realise that a lot of women (myself included) define themselves based on other women and idealized views of women presented by men (oftentimes). perhaps harold bloom's* theory of the 'anxiety of influence' stems beyond artistic creation and into our everydays lives. perhaps we worry because we feel that we cannot begin to compete with the cannonical women set up by men, by the media, by who we're conditioned to believe that we should be. we're undoubtedly influenced by all those things and HOW can we realistically be expected to compete.

but why compete? why not sit down and recognize that we are ALL awesome in our own ways. that every single person is totally rad for all their own individual tastes. i look at my friends and they are amazing actors, writers, musicians, dancers, huggers, geniuses, teachers, and friends and yet so many of them long to be someone else. someone more 'attractive' or more interesting or just MORE. gosh friends, realise how amazing you are. you're AMAZING friends! you put up with me! that's fucking something right there...

i'm getting off topic and i don't know what the point it. i just know it's too hard and takes too much energy to spend time wishing you were someone else with better abs.

somehow i always manage to get waaay off the the point i was on when i started but there it is.

xo michelle.


*yeah, i know harold bloom is a misogynistic psychoanaylitic critic but i am re-appropriating his theory so there!

two: random love in...

* a vacancy sign with a no vacancy sign underneath

*looking into people's lit up apartments as i walk by in the dark (crrreeeepy!)

*neurotic eating habits and the pile of crumbs that results from the complete annhilation of a cookie!

*JILL BARBER coming to town and i didn't know until just now!

*neko case makes my heart a little bit happy.

*my cell phone

*walking home at 1am when it's cold and the tips of my fingers kind of hurt in that way that reminds you why you love living in the prairies

*being tired without the tiredness being overwhelming

*the excitement of new friendships.

*V FOR VENDETTA! go see this fucking movie! it's amazing. i can't yet articulate what it did for me but go see it! i'm hoping i can write something coherant about it soon...

...

xo michelle.

three: THE RULES (wherein michelle talks no-strings sex)

here's the thing. i was never lonely before i let someone spend the night. once you know the feeling of having someone so close to you all night. the feeling of waking up wrapped up so tight in someone's arms. the feeling of knowing that when you get out of the shower they'll still be there waiting to wrap you up again and kiss you. but now i know how that feels and i can't shake wanting that. i was ok until i felt that safe. that close. and now that seems to far off and all it makes me want to do is cry.

this is a lonliness i have never felt. it's terrifying and overwhelming and completely all-consuming. i can actually feel it. pin point it. and it makes me sadder than i have ever been.

truthfully, no one had ever spent the night. we'd have fun and he'd leave and i was good with that. when they stay and hold onto you all night long you start to realise what you've been missing. i'd blocked so much of the past and that first love out of my head that i'd forgotten what that feels like. and that's the part that sucks.

girls can, just as easily as guys, have 'fuck buddies' but i'm willing to wager that there are rules. or, at least there are for me.

(why am i blogging about this?)

so here are the rules:

1. fuck friendship. we are not 'friends with benefits' we're people who know each other and are attracted to each other and have sex but do not date. if i wanted to hang out with you and fuck you i'd probably just try to date you. (now obviously this is different from when you get wasted and have sex with a good friend...)

2. don't get jealous, possesive or tell me about the other girls you're fucking.

3. call me when you want sex and i'll do the same. it works.

4. there will be no sleepovers unless one (or both) of us is too drunk to move. if that happens there is NO snuggling. snuggling results in attachment.

5. the dirtier the sex the better. please do not try to 'make love' to me. we're fuck buddies and therefore we fuck!

6. should we happen to bump into each other in public and decide to meet up later we will NOT leave together but a quickie in the bathroom is always an option.

7. be well kept. i'm not your girlfriend and i still care what you look, smell, and taste like. love hasn't made that shit obsolete for us.

8. there is no us.

9. don't call me if it's not strictly for sex.

10. getting me stoned will always work in your favour.

11. according to maxim 'the more piercings a girl has the more places she'll let you stick it'...i have nine. assume nothing because you read maxim.

and last but not least...

12. you must NOT have a tiny penis and you MUST give amazing head. bad head will get you kicked out! (and vice versa i assume, yeah?)


i guess i just felt that in light of recent events i needed to get some of this off my chest and yes, this is a bit tounge-n-cheek or whatever but there's so much floating around in my head right now that i just wanted to write about sex.

ha ha.

and this was restrained. i didn't want to alienate some of my readers by casting light on too many aspects of my life...the rest of you already know all there is no know anyways. maybe one day i'll start an erotica blog or something. first, i probably need to have more sex. shit...

michelle.

four: a rant (motherfucking assholes)

last thursday i was casually browsing around (read: wasting time) on indecline when i came across a little concert annoucemnt for wintersleep, contrived and jill barber and HOLY FUCK do i ever LOVE jill barber. so miss mary louise and i decide to head to head down to the ol' victory lounge to check it out. we get there at 9:15ish doors were at 8 and then we wait. we waited for a long-ass time. and while we wait we are surrounded by drunk asshole screaming at the tv. (the hockey game)

so jill barber starts her set and it's quiet and melodic and pretty and deserves the attention of the audience. but does she get it? no. instead midway through gorgeous little ditties about broken hearts on the prairie she is interrupted by loud cheers from those idiots watching the hockey game. first of all, why was the television left on during her set? and second of all...have some fucking respect for the artist up on stage.

she made some joke about hockey and the tv was (finally) turned off but that didn't help the atmosphere. i want to tell all of you something: in a place like victory lounge the person on stage can hear you talking over her singing. it's rude and she's there to entertain you. let her do her fucking job and you might actually enjoy yourself. if you don't want to watch jill barber, or whoever else, play then leave and come back afterwards or have a little fucking respect for the people who do want to stay and LISTEN. now, i'm not saying that you can't talk, i talk. i'm just saying that there is NO reason to have a LOUD conversation about something entirely unrelated to what's going on onstage to the detriment of those trying to listen to the music or to the performer.

and it was evident that she noticed too. her set was short and awkward and you could tell she was glad to get off that stage.

jerks! i hope that everyone in that crowd was an indie folk musician so i can go to all their shows and talk (at the top of my lungs) about stds and yeast infections or something.

have a little fucking respect for the fact that an artist has taken her time to do a show for you. i know you'd expect the same.

oh AND AND AND to add insult to the weird vibe of the night the kokanee girls were at the show last night dressed in silver cat suits and furry boots whoring themselves and shitty beer all around the room. what's happened to that place? to this city? i'm truly at a loss as to what's going on...

michelle.

the velvet undergroud doesn't look very velvety

"it's one of those days where you wanna try heroin, drunk driving or some form of soft suicide"
-the weakerthans

fuck me i love the weakerthans.

anyways, 7 drinks in i do sort of want to brush the 2ft of snow from my car and drive around town. obviously i'm not going to and no, i don't have some sort of emo death wish; i was just hoping for something a little more this evening. something exciting. something that ended in puking outside starlite while someone held my drink...or something...something other than text messaging an old old friend from the lrt at just after midnight.

if i were a cheerleader my cheer would be 'GO EMOTIONAL MASOCHISM!'

night night.

m.

fucking douchebags

as i was getting lunch this afternoon i saw this douchebag with a HUGE sticker on the back window of his truck that said the following:

"the right way: straight pride" and had a picture of a man and a woman holding hands

that shit makes me want to puke and key his fucking car. when are people going to realise that who someone has sex with has absolutely no bearing on who they are as a person. homosexuals can no more choose their sexual orientation then heterosexuals can. and jesus christ, sexuality is so fluid these days and definitions become harder and harder all the time...

i should get a big sticker made that says:

"intolerance kills kittens and hope"

or

"keep driving that truck, asshole, i didn't want to have kids anyways"

or

"fuck you, douchebag"

and yes, i understand that people have the right to their opinions but people also have the right to feel safe and protected when they're getting a sandwich or walking down the street or wherever...your personal rights and freedoms cannot infringe upon the personal rights and freedoms of others. keep your hateful shit at home and i'll try not to key your car or make out with your girlfriend when i see you the next time...

sigh...

michelle.

...

i'm in a bad mood today.

i don't really know why. i'm still thinking a lot about a weird little situation that happened a month or so ago...

i'm wondering if i handled it the way i should have. or if i AM handling it the way i should be...

i'm just sad and mad and i am not sure why and what i should do about it. crawling under my desk seems like a good idea. so does getting really fucking stoned and going to sleep.

i don't know kids, i just don't know.
and i'm worrying...a lot. about a lot of stuff.

christ shit fuck damn.

i dunno, y'know.

michelle.

i feel the need for speed!

i met him! i actually met the infamous 'wingman'!

the wingman is a part of the current male zietgiest (ha ha!) or something...
it refers to to half a pair of males where when one of the duo finds a girl he'd like to dance with, grope, whatever his friend is then required to distract her friend. hence the term: wingman-the boys protective spirit. the one who 'takes one for the team'. or something.

anyways, last night i had my first wingman experience and it was fucking hilarious. actually, it probably wasn't my first wingman experience but it was the first time i was completely aware of it. perhaps it was the harsh light of sobriety or perhaps it was the fact that jesse-the wingman-wasn't a very good wingman.

so here's what happened.

clarice, carmen and i went to see shout out out out out at the powerplant and then wanted to continue partying so at around 1:30 or so we braved the snowstorm and headed downtown to halo. as soon as we arrived at halo carmen and i made our way to the dance floor while clarice went to get some drinks. three seconds on the dance floor and this dude in a yellow shirt grabs carmen and starts dancing with him. i just keep dancing, i didn't care. clarice was coming back and the song was good-or at least keeping me on the floor. so three seconds after carmen starts dancing with mr. yellow shirt i meet the wingman.

wingman: hey!
me: hi. (big smile. whatever, i'm in a good mood)
wingman: did i button my shirt up wrong?
me: what? (what? it was loud)
wingman: did i button my shirt up right? or are they all messed up?
me: lemme see...(i look) nope. dude, you did it perfectly, congratulations!
wingman: so where were you lovely ladies before this?
me: uh...we were at the powerplant to see a band.
wingman: what band?
me: shout out out out out
wingman: whitey houston! i love whitey houston!
me: no. shout out out out out. but the dudes from whitey houston are in shout out out...
wingman: yeah, i love whitey houston! and the powerplant. i know the powerplant. i go to the university...
me: yeah, they're fun too.
wingman: i saw whitey houston once.
me: at the powerplant?
wingman: nope. at new city.
me: cool. yeah, i've seen them at new city a couple of times.
wingman: cool. was tonight good?
me: yep! it was rad. a totally fun show and it was free so even if it wasn't as good at least it didn't cost anything.
wingman: FREE?
me: yep. free! they were recording it for cbc radio.
wingman: cool.
me: have you guys been here all night?
wingman: yep. we got here a couple hours ago and we've just been drinking...well, should we dance since our friends are dancing?
me: sure, whatever.
we dance for a while and then the song ends. carmen and yellow shirt guy stop dancing and mr. yellow shirt walks away.
wingman: well, thanks for the dance. i'm jesse. what's your name?
me: michelle.
wingman: well michelle it was nice meeting you. i'm sure i'll see you at the university sometime. bye...
me: seeya.

thus ends my saga with the wingman. i wish you could have actually heard my conversation with this guy about whitey/shout out... it was the funniest thing ever.

girls don't really have a wingman equivalent do they?

happy saturday!
michelle.

thinking with my vagina.

apparently i think, almost constantly, with my vagina.

apparently.

apparently i also have some serious issues with men.

or so i'm told.

i know what you're thinking, 'michelle, you seem so well adjusted and so unconcerned with sex. i doubt you ever think with your vagina. what kind of evidence is there to support these claims?'

ha ha. ok maybe i do think with my vagina from time to time. sometimes she knows better than me what i need. sometimes. other times she gets me in trouble. yeah, it's fun at the time. either way we have a pretty good relationship and we're pretty balanced in who's doing the thinking.

but my issues with men. whatever. this isn't the time or the place to get into that discussion but i thought i would share the supposed evidence that proves these MEGA-issues that i seem to have:

1) last year i went to see ...and you'll know us by the trail of dead and the (international) noise conspiracy and i HATED ...trail of dead. i thought they were an overly-masculine cock rock band that spent the majority of the evening cumming all over the audience's face. it just read as an example of a guitar being an extension of the phallus. to me it was boring and if i wanted to watch someone jerk off i'd have stayed home and watched free porn.

2) i hate HATE HATE 'waking life' i think it's a wank on existentialism that was designed to impress fellow film students with and to get undergrads into bed. it's an overly-masculine take on existentialism that fails miserably and ends up being a pretentious pile of nothing.

just because it's a discussion of existential crisis doesn't make it awesome. i know, existentialism is uber-trendy but pick up a book on existentialism or watch something that wasn't made to make the film makers look cool and then we'll chat. OR sit down and actually attempt to have a discussion with me about it. i am willing even to watch it again. i love having my mind changed by a piece of work i'd previously written off...

and finally 3) my cd collection. according mr. pop-psychology 101 my cd collection further proves my issues with men. apparently kelly clarkson, anti-flag, bright eyes, matthew dear and a lot of tom waits underscore some deep deep seeded issues. apparently an eclectic collection spanning a number of years and genres is infallible proof of the fact that i hate men.

so obviously i challenge this. i ask for more concrete proof. i ask for him to tell me me which album proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that either a) my vagina made that purchase; or b) that i was afraid of masculinity. (my vagina has purchased some of them but not the one's you'd think...)

the thing was so silly about all of it is that trail of dead and waking life were the only two artistic creations we'd ever discussed and that the one time we tried to talk about his art he dismissed what i had to say as shallow and immature. 'you'll grow out of that opinion michelle' is a childish response to criticism-childish at best.

and god forbid i even attempted to get into a discussion that traditional ideas of 'masculine' and 'feminine' are social constructs and are severely outdated-i'm sure he'd dismiss that idea as being elitist and call me a pseudo-intellectual and then talk about myspace or something. god!

and the thing of it all is that i CHOSE not to get into it with him. he's obviously the one with the issues about his own masculinity. i think for him admitting that my opinion is my own and therefore valid would negate his personal belief that he's somehow enlightened beyond traditional views of masculinity-when he really isn't. to disagree with me in discussion form would be to admit an enjoyment of that which i view to be hyper-masculine. if he were we could actually have a discussion about this and he would dismiss me as being shallow or insecure in my relationships with men or with my sexuality. apparently nothing is scarier challenge to an alpha-male than a girl with an opinion about gender and gender relationships as they relate to art.

quick boys, run away!

m.

79% off gold! one day only!

hthe darkest parts of snowy nights are my favourite for two reasons:

1. the contemplative quiet of the snow. (it's too cold out to dress like a hooker and puke outside my house)

2. the glow reflected off the snow makes it feel like another side of day. a day half-shadowed where anything can happen.

today was a day where the numbers made all the difference.

one set of numbers confirms something i knew needed to be dealt with
one set of numbers gets you in touch with someone you love and don't see enough of and finally a third set of numbers tells you why it's a-ok to buy a $95 gold purse. $95 gold for $20...a girl can't ask for anything else.

oh, and there's a fourth. 2. that's for the two 4" heels i'm learning to wear. and i mean learning. who needs the gym to have nice calves, just walk three blocks in stilettos.

today has been a day.

also, i'm planning a trip to nyc-just a long weekend. nothing to special. maybe see a band and a play that i'll never see in edmonton. eat a cupcake with 4'' of icing at the magnolia bakery and get lost a MoMA for a day...who's in?! seriously, anyone care to join me? new york is fun and everyone can use a weekend in the really big city full of really fabulous shit!

*mwah. nite nite fare travellers.

m. n. k.

pleased.

what a pleasant day/evening i had.

i was not expected at work today due to a sudden influx of snow so i slept in a bit, ate a delicious orange and went to the gym. i like working out at 10am; the gym is far less crowded and the people there are far less likely to be whorey stripper wanna be's trying to pick up equally whorey boy stripper wanna be's. the overly tanned pheromones are enough to make a pasty girl puke all over her elliptical trainer.

after a hard workout i came home, had a nice shower and caught the bus to school. school afforded me the opportunity to say a farewell to my sartre paper. i assure you, there was no love lost between us when i said goodbye. yes, i'll get it back but then it will be only as a visitor and will have very little impact on my life. unless i do poorly on it, then i may have to burn it. i think i will also attempt to get a jump on my presentation and my long paper (7000 words! ack!)-both are due at the end of the month. yipes!

class was interesting today. oh, a little back story: since i finished my degree last june i have been feeling a little bit um...scholastically and intellectually diminished so i decided to go back to school and take one class that would be a challenge. being the theory nerd that i am i registered in comparative literature 448. the official title of the class was 'studies in critical theory' which left the topic of discussion to be determined by the prof.-he chose authorship. i'd be lying if i said it wasn't a challenge and that i wasn't overwhelmed by the abundance of grad students in my class. so yeah, today we talked about plato, medieval lit. theory and post-colonialism as it relates to salmon rushdie's 'the satanic verses'. all in all a very interesting day and the rushdie discussion was particularly interesting. i was pleased that one of my classmates was able to offer a muslim perspective. it made me realise how little i know about islam and the muslim faith.

following class i spent a little time with my mom and then met ashley and andy for dinner at cafe mosaics. i love making new friends. both those girls are fantastic people and i can't wait to spend more time with them and get to know them better. hopefully we will be able to see more of each other more often. ashley and i do see each other fairly regularly but rarely do we chat and spend any real time together. mostly we just bump into each other. i believe the phrase is 'concentric social circles' right? ;)

also, cafe mosaics is the height of yummy. vegan chocolate cake will change your life!

so here i am. feeling particularly enamored with jane austin. rachel and i have just returned from seeing 'pride and predjudice'. and while i can't say that i support the ideas of ms. austin's age i am impressed with her ability to take some step beyond what i imagine to be a severely patriarchal society and allow her female characters some semblance of personal agency. yes, they will end up married and referring to their husbands as mr. but they will take their time getting there and perhaps get there on their own terms. either way, the movie was fun and romantic and seeing those jane austin things always leaves me slightly girly and longing for a boy to love me having never even kissed me.

i hope you all had an equally wonderful day.
we should hang out more often, dear friends. for i miss you. even those of you far far away or that i have yet to meet.

xo michelle.

burning angel suicide girls

gosh, i am procrastinating like fuck right now.
who cares, sartre would probably enjoy this post!

so, given derelict's recent dismissal by the suicide girls and the subsequent discussion that i have surmised the following:

-pasty white girls with tattoos, piercings and real boobs are hot.

that's me! i'm pasty, tattooed, pierced and my boobs are VERY real.

ok, it wasn't only derelict's blog. i like that shit. those girls are HOT. so are those boys. anybody know of any hot tattooed naked boy sites?

so anyways, i think that after i fulfill my little goal (ie: to not be fat anymore) i am going to submit some pictures! not to the suicide girls though. i think that they fetishizes a certain few sub-cultures in a way that doesn't celebrate bodies in all their modified glory but marginalizes them as the Other to be gawked at...i think it's because of how mainstream they've become. anyone who says that suicide girls have remained 'indie' has never seen porn for punks. (that shit is...shitty. ha!)

i think i'll send my shit to burning angel. it all feels a little better. less about marketing and merchandise and more about awesomely hot naked girls. it also seems to celebrate rather than objectify girls who've made a choice to look a little different. less glossy and less hoodies for sale!

i LOVE my body! seriously, i love everything about it. i love my skin and my tattoos and my pierced nipples and all of it and all the soft parts. i'm really super comfortable with my sexuality and with discovering all the different kinds of pleasure available to this rad amount of skin. i've got like 5 feet and 7 inches of skin! awesome! i think my body, everyone's body, should be celebrated. all that being said, i have a realistic understanding of how other people view my body so i'm not quite ready to bare all yet. gimme a few months out of the sun and in the gym and then we'll go from there. even if i never submit anything to a real website or whatever i am going to get some pics done (when my sleeve is finished) just to celebrate, y'know.

naked girls with lots of tattoos ARE hot! ha ha!

man, i gotta get back to work. *barf*

michelle.

the tattoo saga pt. 13

lucky thirteen.

in my quest for new skin, new shimmering colourful skin i have posted 12 other times! amazing! i don't think i even whine about boys this much...do i?

some history:
the tattoo saga pt. 7
wherein i decide johnny's gonna be the one to do it and then get a little star in anticipation.

the tattoo saga pt. 1
wherein i decide to document the quest...

so here we are and that little history less was pretty...um...boring.

anyways, lucky 13 proved to be the most painful to date and the most exciting. last friday (february 17, 2006) marked the completion of a full half-sleeve. the lower part of my arm (save for the boxes and some touch-ups and some small parts here and there) is done! $900 and 12-ish hours later i'm half done!

check it:





















again, tattoo done by johnny at urge2 studios. pictures are mine (taken by rachel) so don't steal!
xo michelle.

p.s. i know they look sorta scabby...welcome to the healing process!

2:22am

red wine drunk.
looking for stolen kisses in back alleys. finding none.

wanna go for a cup of tea, sometime?

i love nights that turn into endless conversation. and i walk home along saskatchewan drive singing along (outloud) to songs i barely know the words to. cabbies don't stop unless you flag them down.

somehow i'm not tired. contentedness isn't exhaustion and tomorrow i will ache.

c'est la vie when austrialians are involved.

come visit me? please...

m.

2:46am

i'm awake.

and i'm sort of annoyed by the fact that i am awake and have no partner in insomnia. i wish i knew someone who didn't sleep the way i don't sleep. periods of insomnia. weeks here and there...that way we could call each other at 2:46am and meet for tea and the kind of chats that can only happen at 2:47am when you're both longing for a good night's rest but know it will never come.

i know 2:47am isn't all that late but it's tuesday and i have to work tomorrow morning and my arm hurts and i know that 2:48am whining is indicative of both 3:48am and 4:48am whining. i am sort of hoping that my blog will bore me to death (as i am sure it does you).

insomnia aside.

i'm feeling ballsy these days. something i thought would end with secret deliveries and angry emails has got me itching for direct confrontation. who the fuck am i to back down.

and i read something the other day. a link to a recent article in our very own vue weekly...
emma sasse had the following to say:

"If, as everyone from spiritual leaders to social activists tell me, nothing is real but connection and relationships, then fake worlds atomize us, render us less than animal in our base, self-interested calculations, and, above all, absolve us of being accountable to one another."
(read the whole piece here)

and i am accountable. i can't simply absolve myself from something that i got involved in. sure, all the circumstances were not made available to me (hell, none of them were) but here we are. i've made my cliched and proverbial bed and if i can fuck in it i'd sure as hell better be able to lie in it. on all counts.

and then there was this crush i had. i thought about saying to this crush, 'hey, you seem cool. we should have a drink sometime' but i've since changed my mind. or i think i've changed my mind. i can't be certain.

i do know that i have been doing the theatre thing again lately. partly out of obligation and a need to remind people that i exist before i have to start promoting the shit out of the three (THREE) shows i have coming up; and partly out of a real desire to immerse myself back into it. i have three shows coming up and as much as i wish they were plays aren't rock shows and i am not a promoter. i have to get my head back in the game so i don't fuck it up right before half-time...or something. sports metaphors were never my thing.

i'm rambling.

it's now 3:00am. sorry, 3:01am. mountain standard time. i am resisting the urge to get so stoned that i pass out. i never sleep well that way and wake up feeling worse the next morning.

my arm is looking fantastic. itchy and sort of tight sunburnt feeling but beautiful. it almost makes me feel beautiful.

oh, and i made one of those dolls. it made me mad because they didn't have options for curly hair, facial piercings or gunts. nor did they have the standard michelle fashion of jeans, hoodie, long-sleeve...if they had a fat doll and a bright eyes hoodie i'd have been set.

everyone knows what a gunt is, right?
ha ha.

i think i will end this magnificant case of the rambles with that thought...

night night!
morning morning!

xo michelle.

that sweet sweet ache.

as i push in the door there is little noise. the welcome feeling of bells. i sit. the warm leather couch makes me feel at home. warm.

waiting is killer. the seconds tick by. i want it now because i know what's going to happen. how it's going to feel. how i'm going to feel.

and then i hear that sweet sound in the distance. behind a wall. i smell the smell of clean and that sweet sweet sound. i ache for it. the anticipation is too much. it's been too long. december.

and then he emerges from the back. greets me and slips his hands into those purple sheathes. they'll protect us both from my blood and what's to follow.

i take off my black hoodie. there's green underneath. spring, perhaps? something new for sure.

i sit down. he touches me. that first touch. the anticipation rises and every nerve on my body is ready. excited: jumping at the impending intensity of his touch and the touch of the needle.

and then it begins. as simple as that. that first rush of pain is my favourite. the first trickle of blood and that first site of colour. my skin changes. it swells and stings and aches and bleeds with each pass and i swell and sting and ache and bleed knowing that under all this my new skin is growing. my skin that looks like no one else's skin.

he puts his full weight on my arm. focused. eyes darting across my skin as quickly as the needle. my hand brushes his ribs, thigh, chest, elbow. a series of intimate touches.

and then that moment arrives. i've been expecting it. that moment where the pain is so much that i let out a small wimper. where every muscle in my body contracts in response. then it passes. i know it's coming again so i don't release immediately. i let it out slowly and the cycle continues. pain and a slight release.

it's the end that i long for as much as that first sting. the moment when i can let go completely. the blood and ink are wiped clean and all that remains is my new skin. fresh and raised begging me to look to at it. to show it off. i look in the mirror and i smile. my body lets go. it sighs a happy sigh and the muscles relax. my heart slows and i take normal breathes. i sit for a moment. coming down. feeling myself fall into a deep relaxation and calm. the dull ache reminds me of what's happened over those past three hours. but i smile.

i get dressed. i put on my coat. and i take my new skin home. it feels like home. and i am happy here.

a-ha!

ha ha. i just had one of those moments where it clicked.

i think i'm gonna stick to my 'stay sober for a week' plan...

xo m.

things i don't get about porn.

so ok, there are a coupla things i don't understand about porn. literally two. there are a lot of things about pornography that don't appeal to me but that i understand them as being part of fetish. here are the things i don't get:

1) why do they leave their shoes on? and what's so attractive about a girl in 7 inch platform stilettos?
think about it this way, if your fucking someone wearing shoes and you don't dig the pain of a stiletto digging into your back then why? in certain positions my feet are everywhere, i couldn't imagine how annoyed i'd be if incumbered by shoes...and y'know what, those shoes are HEAVY!

2) performing oral sex on a strap-on.
intellectually i totally get it but i just can't get past that...i always fast forward through that part.

anyways, i'm blogging about porn because i'd rather keep my mind on things that are superficially baffling than things that are actually baffling to me.

oh, and winter is here...
and my car has frozen itself into a block of ice just in case i hadn't noticed that i was winter.

m.

fuck what you heard...

...people are rarely as they seem. i'm learning this on an almost daily fucking basis.

not the point.

over beers last night and emails today with a good friends it appears the general consensus on mood these days (with some happy exceptions) is that of confusion.

i'm blaming the weather. truthfully. i know it's the cliched right of all canadians to bitch about the weather but if we can't even count on the weather to be shitty how can we count on anything as tenuous as emotions or our feelings about something/someone?

so much has happened and so much changes with every step we take and with every day that passes. what we think we know doesn't exist more than 45 seconds later. the one thing that had always remained constant (albeit constantly shitty) was the weather.

the frozen prairie was our solace. we knew the days would be cold and the beer and our friends would warm us if we could bundle our hearts and blood up enough make it out of our houses. i go to leave my house and i don't even know what coat to wear...

this is melodramatic, i know. but i don't think it's without foundation. we are affected by the rotation of the earth and the sunshine and the clouds and the wind all of that...

i am having trouble with maintaining motivation and social skills. there are things being left unsaid left right and centre. there are misplaced tears and unused smiles. there are nights when i should have gone out but my television and drugs offered a closer and easier comfort.

i don't know where this is all going. i don't know what tomorrow holds for me. maybe drinks with friends and strangers and industrial electronica. maybe a skateboard post-rock auction. maybe a movie with old and new sisters. maybe all of it. maybe none of it.

but here's what i'm thinking, and maybe i'm wrong but i started this post in a weird head space and things are clearing up a bit...maybe we should learn to count on uncertainty. we long for certainty, for symmetry, for all of the things that make us feel balanced but maybe we should relish in uncertainty for just a moment. maybe we should take small joy in not knowing what coat to wear or who we'll see or who we'll love or who will fuck us over...

ready.

take a deep breath.

jump for joy right...

NOW!

did you do it? i did a little dance.

ok. i'm going to bed and back to being confused for the time being. maybe i'll take comfort in the certainty of confusion...

...or something.

xo michelle.

the levity of longing

i'm feeling good about this song, about it words and i want you to feel good about it too so read on:

some planes were made and rice was thrown.
a house was built.
a baby born.
how time can move both fast and slow amazes me.
so i raise my glass to symmetry,
to that second hand and its accuracy.
to the actual size of everything.
the desert is the sand.
you can't hold it in your hand.
it won't bow to your demands.

there's no difference you can make,
there's no difference you can make.

and if it seems like an accident,
a collage of senselessness,
you aren't looking hard enough.
i wasn't looking hard enoughat at it.

an argument for conciousness.
the instinct of the blind insect who makes love to the flower bed and dies in the first freeze.
i want to learn such simple things.
no politics.
no history.
until what i want and what i need can finally be the same.

i just got myself to blame.
leave everything up to fate.
when there are choices i could make.
choice i could make.

now my heart needs a polygraph.
always so eager to pack my bags when i really want to stay.
i really want to stay.
i want to stay.

the arc of time.
the stench of sex.
the innocence you can't protect.
each quarter note.
each marble step.
walk up and down.
that lonely treble clef.
each wanting the next one to arrive.

an argument for conciousness.
the instinct of the blind insect.
who never thinks not to accept its fate.
that's faith.
there is happiness in death.

you give to the next one down the line.
the levity of longing that distills each dream inside my head.
by morning water down forget.
on silver stars i wish and wish and wish.
from one to the next one.
from one to the next right down the line.

you get to the next one.
you get to the next one down the line.

that song is called 'i believe in symmetry' by bright eyes (lyrics conor oberst) from the 2005 release digital ash in a digital urn (saddle creek)

it's a song that's been on my mind. if i sat down with conor oberst and could only talk about one song it would be this one! there are part of it that speak to me as if written ABOUT me and parts that piss me off in their simplicity and complacent whining...

i dunno dear friends, it speaks. it yells. at me. and i dig that shit.

xo m.

i found a liquid cure...

i wish i was in vancouver.

the sun and the smell of the ocean and old feelings that come back every once in a while.

landlocked blues perhaps?

what is it that ben says? 'even landlocked lovers yearn for the sea like navy men'
well, i'm no lover but i miss the ocean and the sometimes i hate impassable mountains that make it seem so far off.

maybe i need to go there. a little trip. maybe the sea air would be better for me than a trip to that smoggy eastern city.

xo m.

porn! porn! porn!

so a couple of weeks ago leah and eli happened to be walking past my house when they noticed that one of my neighbours had a visible pornography collection.

i hadn't seen it and i was pretty much convinced that it didn't exist. i thought they got the wrong street or something...

BUT I SAW IT!

I SAW IT!

i was coming home this afternoon and i saw it!

and i also saw a treadmill. so here's what i figure: these boys work out staring at porn hoping HOPING if they use the treadmill and it makes them all hot, ripped and in excellent cardiac shape they'll get to fuck girls that look like that and show of their stamina!

or, if they work out then they get to jerk off?

tell me boys? why hang naked pictures of girls on your living room wall for all walking-past strangers to see?

either way, i got a good laugh so thanks leah and eli for giving me a laugh...or for pointing out a place where a laugh was...:D

m.

i'm sad.

i've been hurt. i can't talk about it. for legal reasons. seriously.

but you think you know someone and it's completely amazing how quickly and easily a 4+ year friendship can be thrown away for a few dollars...

and what do i have? nothing. i pay my rent, my debt, get some food and maybe go out and buy a couple cds and get drunk a couple times a month. maybe get tattooed if i have a little extra but i don't have a lot.

i'm heartbroken.

michelle.

i wrote on paper with a sharpie

and it may be a little while before what i wrote is out there-out here-for you all to read.

it's a MANIFESTO!-yes, a manifesto! but to me the manifesto is the first step in an actual plan so i don't want to jump the gun by sharing it too quickly.

i'd feel dumb if it all fell apart.

to me, manifestos have always felt like the first step in something bigger and i need to be on the path to step two before the world sees step one, y'know. i just feel like i need to make some calls and solidify a few things (like some help at the very least) before my plot is revealed.

but why? i can tell you why.

i'm fucking bored and depressed and mad. and i'm depressed and mad because of how fucking bored i am. i think being back in school, even as ridiculously part time as i am there, made me realise how school conditioned me. i NEED to be busy. i exist better when i have 700 things to do.

and truthfully, i'm angry with myself. i'm up late resting on my laurels. sure, i did a show in september but it's fucking january and what have i done. i keep telling people, 'i'm in pre-production for a fringe show!' and i am but that's a bit of a fabrication because the play isn't even finished.

i'm just sitting. i make such a big deal that we started this company and did everything without the help of some miraculous benefactor but what the fuck have i done since? besides talk a good game? NOTHING!

so that's it. i'm tired of sitting under a tree waiting for an apple to fall on my head. i'm fucking doing what i need to do.

enter the manifesto!

so what i hope now is that i get my shit together, cash in every favour ever and get done what i need to get done. i'll need help (PLEASE!) and i'll need people to come look at the results (PRETTY PLEASE) but i think it can be done. i HOPE it can be done.

if it's like ben says, that 'every plan is tiny prayer to father time' than i hope he's listening.

that was rambly...

night night.

xo michelle.

p.s. i think this guy might be doing my new headshots. i HOPE he's doing them cuz he's pretty much the raddest dude with a camera in this city!

ultra violet deep red

so i'm a red head! it's pretty bright today! exciting! HOT! i LOVE red hair and i forgot how much i love it!

it's such a change from the black.

and i talked to johnny today! i'm getting more work done on my sleeve on the 17th of february. should be rad!

that man is sooo cool. in the same sentance he swears like a trucker and tells me he's going to go see la boheme and then calls me kitten. crazy. i love him!

xo m.

we both reached for the gun

sorry the blog has been sucky lately.

no titles.

drunk posting.

vague.

gawd, i promise it won't suck anymore.

xo m.

by the numbers

so the election has come and gone.

amidst a flurry of slander and scandal the conservative party of canada led by the infamous stephen harper has won a minority government.

here's how it broke down:

Party Elected Seats in 2004 Vote Share Vote Share in 2004
CON 124 99 36.25% 29.61%
LIB 103 135 30.22% 36.71%
BQ 51 54 10.48% 12.40%
NDP 29 19 17.49% 15.69%
IND 1 n/a 0.52% n/a
OTH n/a 1 5.05% 5.6%

for you non-canadians out there:

to form a majority government the elected party must have 155 elected seats
CON-conservative (led by stephen harper)
LIB-liberal (formerly led by paul martin...there will now be a leadership race to appoint a new leader)
BQ-bloc quebecois (a quebec only party led by gilles duceppe)
NDP-new democrat party (led by jack layton)
IND-independent
OTH- other. (includes green, marxist-leninist, etc...)

also yeah for us canada! voter turn out was a whopping 64.9%. that's up from last year's 60.9% which happened to be the lowest turnout since 1898! 64.9% isn't great but it's better than last year so that's something...

for more information and results go here (the cbc)

so yeah. that's that. i've been thinking about this all day and wondering what was going to happen to us, to canadian, now that harper is prime minister. it's sort of scary thought, right-wing christians in positions of governance are always a scary thought (george bush anyone?). the previous liberal government made some really positive changes in the past little while and i'm worried that the positive steps forward might be undone. not that the liberals were without issue but...

anyways, i'm bad at writing about politics. i go off on leftist idealist tangents and my true colours fly. i'm not in the mood for that this afternoon. i'm tired and still reeling from the apocalyptic feelings i was having this morning.

so read up on the results, the campaigns and when something happens (when harper does something) that you're unhappy with make an informed stand against him. don't let our rights to marriage, sex, our bodies, peace, etc...be smushed on. if i were a betting woman i'd say there will be an election within two years but don't count on that.

keep standing up! (i plan on standing up taller and speaking louder than i've done in the past when it behooves me to do so...)

xo michelle.

UPDATE: NO BABY!!

babies on parade!

so i'm not always the most...um...responsible gal when it comes to sex. it's my own fault, obviously.

the paranoia that results is baby fear...not std fear but BABY FEAR! think about it: i'm 24, i have ZERO financial stability, ZERO shit laid out for the future...i mean, i know what i want to do but it's not secure. it would be irresponsible of me to have a baby right now and it would be sad for that baby...there are enough poor single mothers out there and i don't need to add to that in any capacity...

so all that being said i'm worrying again. round #2 of pregnancy paranoia.

as a result my errands for the morning resulted in a trip to shoppers drug mart for that little $12 pee stick.

it sucks. SUCKS! there i am, exhausted, when the 15yr old supergoth cashier shows me a moment of solidarity. i can tell. she gets it. there's no judgement, pretense. she gets how much that purchase fucking sucks. how scary it is. how much i DON'T want a kid right now.

the last time this happened i left the drugstore crying. thank god that didn't happen again.

i'm off to pee on a stick. we'll see what happens.

xo m.

where the shadows make things ugly

i always feel a little strange when i get home from hanging out with people who've known me since i was six. while i believe that parts of us stay the same over the course of our entire lives i really believe that we change more than we can measure.

i know this sounds simple but spending time with these girls wholly reinforces the profound affect our choices and environments have on us.

take kyla for example. she is my closest and oldest friend. she is the one i'd go to first with any sort of problem. we've known each other for almost 19 years. that's pretty amazing.

kyla works at a job that i don't understand and can't explain to you. she has a diploma in instrumentation (and another in design drafting) so it's something to do with that. she has a serious boyfriend and recently ended a five year relationship. she'll be 25 in march and is bothered by the fact that she isn't engaged or married. she was sure that by 25 she'd be married. she owns her car outright and is in the market for a condo.

michelle works at a job that is well below her education and skill level while she bides her time before grad school or until she can work in theatre full time. she has never had a serious relationship; just a few scattered loves and one-night stands. . michelle will be 25 in september and is convinced she's FAR too young to get married. she owns nothing but some gorgeous tattoos and a lot of cds and she can't ever see herself being in the market for a condo.

she and i couldn't be more unlike. but maybe that isn't true. we're both kind and compassionate people who love our families and friends and try to do what we can to make sure the people that we care about are cared for.

and while i'm sitting there listening to kyla (and these other two girls i've known for a while) talk about condos and engagement rings and boyfriends and the fact that they never go out drinking anymore i start to wonder what i'm doing there. why am i sitting in a movie theatre with these people. and the other two are who they are and i neither like nor dislike them, nor are we friends...but kyla.

i love kyla. and all our differences only make us better friends. we come together with no pretense and are wow'ed by how the other lives. me with my occasional one-night stands and her with her boyfriend and condo hunts.

i read once that douglas coupland called nostalgia a weapon and in a lot of ways i agree with him. when used improperly nostalgia can kill. when fueled by loneliness and alcohol there is nothing more dangerous. but in the right hands nostalgia reminds us of our pasts and keeps us intouch with the people that have shaped our present.

tonight i am happy.

xo michelle.

so llewelyn's comment read something like this:

michelle, if you're talking about that shithead who's always mean to you until he wants to sleep with you? cuz if it is i say take your own advice and don't have anything to do with him. you're a princess and you should only be with people who treat you like a princess. and you're the co-founder of awesometown...treat yourself as such.

and if it's someone else than call.

it's the shithead. i'm a shithead because i want to spend my time with someone who's a shithead.

me: are you coming to my brunch?
him: nope. i have to work. (somewhere he uses a diminuitive like miss or doll)
me: oh
him: and besides, i'm not vegan. but mostly i have to work.
me: no, i said vegetarian. only one of my friends is vegan. i'm not so.
me: ...but if you have to work...
him: i could try and juggle but i haven't been so good at that lately.

and then some bullshit about balls dropping and me making a comment of how deliberately vague i felt he was being.

if you don't want to do something, say so. say "sorry michelle, i don't want to hang out with you." "thanks for the invite but i'm not interested". something like that. instead of talking about being straight up just be. straight up. with me.

i'm sick of this shit. this is the breaking point. vegans. work. work! ha! the kid can take time out his afternoon to fuck me when he likes but come over to spend some time with a supposed friend. ha!

i know. i know. you're thinking that i'm just one of those girls: "says she can fuck someone and not get attached. look, she's attached. told you so..." and i am attached. but not because of the sex. it was the moments in between. the moments when you think you're friends.

god, why am i even talking about this?
because i'm a shithead. and because of other things that i'm not ok with talking about on el blogo.

m.

dallas green makes me feel slightly murderous.

seriously! he's terrible.

my sister is watching muchmusic and i want to PUKE! like seriously PUKE all over the tv.

(at least he's hot)

xo m.

to call or not to call

the eternal question. i feel slightly like carrie bradshaw must have when she was 15. no, i'm not 15. far from it but sometimes, like now, i feel sort of 15.

on a sidenote i like the carrie bradshaw reference. both intertextual and a clever reference to pop culture as well as calling into the question of authorship. if michelle relates herself to a fictional character is she herself fictional or are all things written true? do characters exist outside of their creator once their names because as recognized as those who actually exist. shit, michelle exists and carrie bradshaw is a million times more famous than she'll ever be!

i've been watching sex and the city a lot lately. yep, it's pretty much crap but it's luscious crap wrapped in gorgeous shoes and women talking cock on television. more of that needs to happen. hopefully the next time it happens a woman will write it but y'know...yes, i know that candice whatsherface wrote the book but a dude writes the majority of the 'teleplay'. so what then? women were convinced that the way these four women talk is the way that women actually talk but these strong female voices are filtered through a man's voice...

ack! don't even get me started. 'the myth of contemporary feminism'. i could go on for ever on acceptable vs. unacceptable manifestations of equality but i won't right now. this isn't what i wanted to talk about.

it's embarassing because i just ranted a little bit and now i want to act like a 15 year old version of myself. shit, i'm almost 25! you'd think at some point i'd get used to the idea that boys do exist in my world and if i want to spend time with them i will have to talk to them.

i am one of those people in constant possession of in my comp lit class, that tattooed one i see sometimes*.

(*these are archetypes and represent NO ONE in particular so stop freaking out!)

amidst all these archetypal crushes there are usually one or two boys that i would actually like to spend some time with. currently there is one. the thing about this one is that we've slept together, gone on 'dates' (sort of) but he's never expressed any real interest in actually dating me. i'd like to go on more dates with him. are things complicated by the fact that we've already fucked? or was that an acceptable 'test drive'? i don't know what to do. at times we have a good thing going. sex, the occasional drink, etc. and then other times he completely ignores me.

and i know what you're all thinking. typical girl, gets attached to someone she's slept with. fuck you! this attachment is something recent and something that has little to do with sex. the truth is he's a nice guy...or he can be. the potential is definately there. i get moments of it. i know i know, 'she doth protest too much' but my christmas holidays can attest to the fact that i can fuck people and in no way become attached. so what? do i take the risk? or should i just get so stoned that i forget about everything and have a full night's sleep? not that i'd call right now but...

so that's that. i suck. what a day. i did nothing all day and i'm running out of weed! i should call him.

should i call him?

xo m.ll night's sleep? not that i'd call right now but...

so that's that. i suck. what a day. i did nothing all day and i'm running out of weed! i should call him.

should i call him?

xo m.

i was at halo on friday night for all of about 5 min. or 10. i don't know. the jager was preventing me from being 100% aware of my surroundings. i know this: it was hot and i felt like the UN-coolest person there. now ok, this isn't intended to be me whining about how uncool or cool i am cuz i get that it's redundant. or irrelevent. or both. the point is that i was there for 1o minutes, i was drunk, it was hot and in the face of local hip hop icons and fashionistas i felt uncool. that's all. anyways, in those 10 minutes i ran into an old friend.

krystin.

i think of her from time to time. the last time i saw her was this past may. i was walking down whyte ave with aaron and she was in starbucks. we blocked the doorway catching up for a brief moment. we talked about nipple piercings. mine were only a day old and it hurt to hug her. and then i saw her on friday. we talked about getting together, as you always do when you run into people...

seeing her made me start thinking about those couple of years. being 22. huh. i don't know where this is going...

it seems like life has been throwing curveballs lately. i've been handling them well but i guess there's something to be said for being completely 22, which i'm not anymore. who knows.

i sure don't.

either way, it was good to see krys and i think that i am not going to do that thing where you say you'll email someone and you never do. i'm gonna email her. and maybe some other people i miss.

it's amazing what can happen.

maybe it's the 5 or 6 jager and cranberry's. maybe it's the crappy skatepunk. maybe nostalgia is a weapon. maybe it's the heat. maybe it's an old friend. maybe it's fucking celebrity. maybe it's a sense that something isn't what it should be. maybe it's the knowledge that i am just not enough of whateverthefuck i need to be to be there.

it's amazing what can happen.
and how much of a fucking bitch i can be when no one is listening.

a little something for everyone...

...or not.

titles come to me at random. i am at their will.

anyways, i got a new hole in my face yesterday. stretching the other hole so the two match hurt more than the new hole.

fun!

saying no one bagel at a time

so i made a desicion the other day. i know that it's that part of the year when people make these kind of desicions but it's not a resolution. what i'm doing here isn't a resolution because resolution implies impermanence. no, i've just made a choice.

i'm gonna lose weight. for real this time. i want to feel good about myself, good in the way i know i deserve to feel. i guess perhaps that at almost 25 maybe i am starting to feel worth feeling good about myself...i don't know. and it isn't about the number on the metal at my feet, it's about how i feel and how i feel in those clothes that apparently make the woman. fuck the numbers!

so i'm writing about this, not because i'm looking for some kind of praise from the internet, but because i need to make it known to myself that tonight at 10:40pm while i sit here uploading the rad hotchip album into yousendit for mary i am bored and when i am bored i eat. (i also eat when i'm happy, sad, stoned, etc...) and instead of eating i made tea. i just said NO to that bagel sitting beside the kettle. i had a good dinner and i don't need to eat right now. i just said no. that's the first step right. i just have to keep making that choice.

just keep making that choice michelle.

plus, when i lose this weight i am going to buy hot fucking jeans that cost waaaay too much money and turn down all the boys that dismissed me for being the fat girl.

the list:2005 (additions and ammendments)

it's bound to happen. i forget something, i hear something else that needs to be added. it's bound to happen.

so, the 10 best has changed and i can't believe that i left the WORST show of the year off my list.

the worst show first:

hot hot heat w. the futureheads and louis XIV (at reds in april)

yep, this show just sucked hardcore from start to finish.
too many tigth pants and boring lacklustre dance pop. i had fun at the time but thinking about it later it made me a little sad. sad because it was so crappy!

and ok, a completely different top 10 list. it has to be done. there are two albums that i completely forgot! that's not true, i didn't forget them; i got overzealous in posting that list before i had a chance to hear two of the best album of the year.

the new list:

so broken social scene and ladytron (sorry kids, still amazing albums though...) got kicked off the the old list and the new list exists as follows:

10. xiu xiu la foret-5RC/kill rockstars
9. lcd soundsystem s/t-dfa/astralworks
8. m. ward transistor radio-merge
7. venetian snares meathole-planet mu
6. les angles mort what is real?-blue skies turn black
5. tom vek we have sound-startime international
this is a new edition to the list. a friend sent me this and i burnt it onto a cd and listened to it immediately. i figured it was something pretty rad as he'd be raving about it for a while and how it was one the best albums of the year. i listen and i was like, 'garage rock-so fucking what? there's nothing special about this!' and i wrote it off for a couple days. a few days later i was going to the gym and didn't have anything in my discman; mr. vek was sitting on the top of a pile of cds and i decided i'd give it another try. if nothing else it was upbeat enough for a workout. headphones in hand tom and i headed for the elliptical trainer. 3 songs in i forgot to excercise and i stood there in the middle of club fit completely transfixed on this amazingly dynamic record. it's full of so many layers of sound it's hard to know where to listen first. i love it now! i tell everyone to listen to it and i will be passing on my burnt copy of this to the next unsuspecting fan...or person who doesn't quite yet know they're a fan. believe the hype kids! this album is the fucking shit! dynamic, stirring and fun! fun! fun!
4. four tet everthing ecstatic-domino recordings
3. bright eyes i'm wide awake it's morning-saddle creek
2. hot chip coming on strong-moshi moshi/astralworks
ok, i'm obsessed with album. how the fuck did i miss it before?! i'd seen in the store a million times since it came out in november and heard people raving about it all over the land, what was i thinking not picking it up the first time i saw it? well, i've fixed my mistake and have fallen completely in LOVE with hot chip! this is sexy music that makes you want to dance and fuck and spend the whole night tangled up with a hundred people on the dance floor of a club that only holds 50. it's what good dance music should be: interesting, dynamic, well orchestrated and actually danceable. oh, and listen to the lyrics because they are hilarious. hot chip is RAD! RAD! RAD!
1. antony and the johnsons i'm a bird now-secretly canadian
yep, this album is still perfect! i double checked!

xo m.

i'm back!

if you care.

i'm back. tomorrow i need to ammend some things. add some 'resolutions' (even though i am not a fan of that word) and comment on some recent events.

just wanted to say hi.

xo m.