k e e p . t a l k i n g

Loulou; or, The Domestic Life of the Language

2010-04-08T12:36:00.001-07:00

so here i am, back to this old song and dance.

i guess i should conjure up something to say, since i know that manderz is checkin this shiz out now.

speaking of which, the same manderz panders that i successfully accosted immediately after getting kicked in the shin. by a girl. who felt certain that the couch was big enough for three, and two was not yet enough.

my brain tells me i like learning things the harder, more roundabout way. i am emma from atwood's walking on water...

i refuse to die in such a stupid way....she didnt want to offend, but to merely disengage...in deference to the local horror of legs....usually married and awful as well..rational men she can look up to, and so she adores, one after another, men who have excelled in their fields, frequently with ruthless egoism, when the chips are down they have no real time for anyone else...the rest of us have more self-protection...she was a one way specialist, she disliked going backwards...rapidly falls into stock postures in times of stress...

alas, i am sleepy and rushed

make good choices.

born to morning frost

2008-08-26T18:44:00.000-07:00

as long as quasi-strangers continue to approach me in the streets, in stores, in various types of terminals, in restaurants, in bathrooms, while volunteering, ad continuum, and tell me about -

their crappy day at work, how i but slightly resemble sarah mclaughlan, how i must obviously not be a montealer (x3), their HPV, their dog, their love for russian hip hop, their love for the martial arts, their love for leonard cohen, the intensity of the weather on various scales, why some black men are drawn to white women, the ethics of sex between an older man and younger woman, henry miller, and if i will go to florida with them..

i will never be alone.

2008-01-07T20:14:00.001-08:00

1935:
The idea of lag is invented. People rush home for a cup of tea, possibly a biscuit of some variety and to ponder the purpose of lag.

i'm missin' on that which was once, not too far back, vast, open, space. space in general is a niceity im fond of. today i saw so many faces, so many bodies preoccupying precious space, and messing with my sense of reality.

please everybody go home, or else we'll have to begin colonizing new lands and appropriating new space so i can hack it all better. im filled with mostly bittersweetness.

rain in the winter seemed far less daunting on the island. i remember the mass preparations for the perma-wet, the soaking shoes, the unusually strong wind, and taking it all in stride. "hi dad, its raining today (again), but that's okay. i dont mind. its alright"

yeah, yeah.

living amoungst the greeks who lurve their suburbs. tunnel communication, (welcome back), learning to be still, forgetting where my thoughts went, wishing i was you, et finally understanding the grandeur of company and living unalone.

storytime is dead these days, kids.

allt i lagi. as smari would remind me.

etet ettt, SKAL / bonne fete mr.Bowie.  let's dance.

home-isms

2007-12-18T11:10:00.000-08:00

the shadiest of characters come out in the night. and so we frolick.

in my most brutal honesty, i have nothing spicy in the least to report, other than that I will admit that Smitty does in fact have some wintery nightime appeal about it. everything's better when you can go away and come back.

shane had a birthday, which he was obviously pretty pumped about.

we seem to operate best in doubles in my family.
Smiths Falls is the closest i'll be getting to Finland anytime soon.
so embrace!
someone thought we needed alot of snow.
steamy shiz. do not mistake for geothermal activity of any kind.
ghosts, chocolate, and water tower

from my room : : : : :

meanwhile, I'm trying to think of bouts of literary madness for Jesus Christ, I'm Crazy Again. the problem is, im feeling less crazy and extrodinarily complacent. fear not. i have faith that Christmas day will indubitedly provide many examples of the contrary.

zzz

2007-12-09T20:42:00.000-08:00

life has been seriously simple as of late. what do you mean i dont have to cart around this backpack? what if i want to? a bed? my bed? nonesense.
one week since my quasi nomadisms have ceased and i am very, very .. static?
dessert-like reading saves the day (hornby to the rescue)
my time has run out as being something of a commodity at home.
you're still around?
okay i joke a wee bit.
in other unsightly news:
heated debates over Oprah and Obama. (sometimes, i care just enough). why CNN can kiss me ass. and general angsty matters.
during my recent retirement from life, (which i can't seem to just soak up),... /// (amongst the mounds of snow), i have come to two important conclusions. 1. i want to rid myself of medicalized femininity in order to free myself of all which is evil. imagine! i'm all over it.
but really. take it all.

2. i want to curl. you know. i want badly to slide on the ice and yell at people to sweep harder. but mostly have amazing balance and dexterity! fine ass motor skills on ice. fuck hockey. and superbad. jesus!

kanada, ..... ! where did we leave off....?

2007-12-01T11:25:00.000-08:00

all i remember of the last week is mostly that of wandering, convolution, givin'er my final 190, and my spine holding out on me (good riddance).
i think it might go something along the lines of my getting somewhat (quite a bit) lost in budapest one day, drinking alot of hot wine (these two things dont necessarily coinside), watching gypsy music, being fed, (what is it with people loving to feed me, aside from just my crazy mom?) trying to call distant planets in hopes of contacting lifeforms, (to no avail), flying WAY too much, interval sleeping, nutso people, a serious loathing of plane landing, and going from +10 to -10 too fast.
so there was this one time, from ireland to chicago (8.5 hour flight) when i was at what i felt was my most painfully unkepmt and underslept after a night of pretending to sleep in the airport terminal, with frequent rise and shine encounters of buddy cleaning pretty loudly, intercom hell, and police prodding me a broom. anyway, i felt sure i could sleep on this long flight, until a girl from alaska plops down beside me. apparently, she loves to talk. in fact, she felt so inclined to go into such great detail about this science fiction novel she read (giving me the worst breakdown ive ever heard) while i struggle to stay conscious. then we fly through a rainbow, quite literally, to my eyes anyways, and wham, freak turbulance. i blame ireland. we descend a fair chunk, wobble around, i hold back some vomit, while people frantically look to others for reassurance. all i could think of was how i would much rather not die before xmas, and, with my last thoughts being that of scifi. i complacently put the blanket over my head and didnt wake up until

USA.
get ravaged by customs.

then,
Canadian soil
Halifax, Montreal baby.
and home.
i am le toast.
see you in my dreams.

west to east

2007-11-26T02:47:00.000-08:00

tail end of dublin. will elaborate more visually soon via pikturz site.

best dog EVER. sorry mugz.

what are you american? have you ever heard of the IRA?!?!

we're not in iceland anymore.

my eyes are in a permanent state of being only part ways open.

backtrack 3 days, give or take some. depending on what the hell day is it anyway? bear with me here, hungarian keyboards are fookin me up a bit.

the latter half of Eireann (dublin city love) tamed down a bit. but i stress the a bit part. i met some nice irish people on the plane to dublin, and the decision to meet up with them again downtown turned out to be a fabulous idea. i scrapped couch surfing host numero 2, who seemed a bit high maintenance in terms of meeting times, being a laywer and such, and opted for the city outskirts of Blanchardstown with my new friend who spent a year in iceland doing similair work as me, and his mom, who is like the rest of the breed in ireland, ...amazing verbal skills. saying that the irish are fabulous story tellers is a huge understatement.

anyways, i was spoiled to all hell here, and the poochy is theirs. i had my own room (with a BEDDDD) and got what i would like to call my best sleep in months there.

fast forward past black tea and various meat products for breakfast, irish coffee for lunch, and black beer with supper, and i end up somewhere along...

get on bright yellow ryanair plane, fight people for a seat, imagine dying on a bright yellow plane with these othe crazies, and wake up in budapest.

Orsi and her friend meet me at the gate, and swift me off into the maze of a dark and beautiful city at night. beautiful.people.everywhere. we go out, have a gas.

i am becoming exceedingly great at sharades, and guessing what people might mean, speaking slowly and clearly, using hand gestures maximally, and filling in parts of english sentences. gabby and i (orsi's friend) are able to communicate with almost no talking, incohereantly anyways. another example of this is last night when we went for dinner at orsi's parents in the country side, (who, might i add, obviously fed me to the brink of explosion, like all other hungarians i know are as successful with). anyway, amazing dinner. such an array of foodsies im certain her mom spent the entire week pre-paring and fladgulating over, and over dinner, i found myself even being able to understand parts of the non-english exchange, (which was most of it) just by the use of flailing hands and facial expressions. however, you dont want to give them the impression you actually understand what the eff is going on, because then they ask you something in hungarian. this doesnt work. direct address equals breakdown!

more exploring today.

love zee magyars.

hearts.

when you go out on the batter with a shower of savages....

2007-11-22T06:56:00.000-08:00

that's a fine bit of stuff!

ireland all too inevitably has me drinking as much water as beer and southern comfort (?), as to prevent horrendous hangovers. i will top off a 1.5 litre of water in no time now. no sleep (very little) and the bag is getting heavier? or, i am way out of shape and missing stashing it places. i have kept up with leaving things everywhere i go, slowly getting rid of bits of material me all around the world. a t-shirt there, purse here, stash some other shit over there. i dont need anything but Guinness and a sleeping bag.

oh, so, i found my couch surfer numero uno and his lovely flatmates who have taken to MY accent quite fondly. nursing and communication students at Dublin Uni, and they are effin eff-tackular ( brain is on its way towards total shutdown).

this shit would never fly at McThrill.

Hi, I'm Lindsay. no, im not American. one more guess! and, can we get some pizza? im so bloody hungry, and, you want me to do what? dress up like a moronic fashion victim and come dancing? but its a Tuesday?

sometimes you just have to gell.
dont let the shit eating grin on my face fool you. i was trying to resist the madness.
and, i DID miss halloween.

playing with irish kiddies. this picture is now in the DCU school paper. FAME.

running, jumping, flying...
likely not a good idea to note the bottle of rose im holding. Catherine and Nula, fair play to ya!
i have since moved out, and on to final host number 2.

the weather here is fabulous. i.e., little rain, mostly cloudy, occasionally sunny, light earlier and longer than previous island dwelling, less sample weather, and a few degrees warmer ! i told them all im going to beach. and well, i am. those canadians!

budapest saturday. i think?

ye buck eejit ye, i am le tired. but i am le loving it.

have you seen me ?

2007-11-19T12:37:00.000-08:00

do it. DO IT NOW! velkomin DUBLIN.
final days. love. love. love

miss . !

so, wake up in a new country.
after some freak turbulence.
heart strings under some stress. lift off. 8 people on a huge empty plane headed south.
'island hopping' as the man at customs says. since when was coming to a country so easy?
severe auto-pilot your way to a bus, to a cab, to a hostel at some ungodly hour. hungover. get up after a few hours sleep, take a walk, find MANY payphones. is this pay phone utopia? no. its Dublin. and they are very picky how they operate. !!!. phones, people... people, people. remember how to conduct yourself in busy civilization again. remembering how to walk in crowds, not jay walk, keep up to speed; these are not mossy fields. i will find some hopefully. also, there are many CULTURES in one again. after months of white homogenization. JESUS. where am I. how am i gone from island one already? call An and Smari. asked them how the ride home went. recall the stress free desolation of airport in Keflavik, and how people here speak english, yet the strain on your ears for close listening skills is utilized far greater than in a country where it is peoples second language. thick, thick accents! fast speaking. nodding. close listening skills. you people sound amazing. recall the absolute greatness which was my final week in Iceland. so many great people whom i love so. this is stage one of weening myself back into real reality, and slowly landing myself closer to home. sort of. a small percentage of me has forgotten how to let go, and start fresh. 3 months is a strange amount of time. island love.

leaving the senses to fend for themselves

2007-11-15T04:48:00.000-08:00

oh hells yes.

bad picture taking at its prime.

blurzzz. zanks An.

real, live ghosts.

i didnt mean to look away? next time?

the boys resisting the current you can´t see. i promise its there. ask my ass.

this is about the time my balls really start to ache.

currently, my entire body is still paying the price for my 'surprise' on tuesday.
my legs, and most notably, my ass, is colored in srapes, scratches and bruises.
if you can´t already guess, this was a great surprise.

An and friends come get me at school, blindfold me, drive me out east, strap a bathing suit on me (wait, i did that part), and lure me into a bloody creek/stream with heavy current with a bottle of apple schnaps.

of course, this is pretty warm effing water, as the steam made for horrendous pictures.

so there it is, middle of night in November, and we´re all sitting/struggling in a warm riverbed (nicely equipped with rocks of all shapes and sharpness). dont let me lack of intensity fool you. this was amazing. especially because there are some people doing some weird athletic crap right near us, shaking their heads at us and watching us float around amidst the steam with a bottle each for ourselves.

i am recovering nicely. and still studying. and refusing sleep.
i also did a pretty epic fall off the bridge (no sweat, it was a low one). but wow. i am an ultra spazz. i am almost too cool for my own good. i have never heard such an alarming tone in buddy´s voice when i did go over....... ...! - OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

shit yes i am!

been papering again (what is with this?) and today is technically my last day of school at the uni. hhhhwhhat? still some shiz to take care of.

selling the bike. the same bike that caused me a fair amount of grief x10 to get here. HOWEVER, i got a feelin that its in good hands! i never believed an Icelander of all people in the world would buy my bike, and in the winter? yae Simmi :)

also, staying with Japanese couch surfing hosts in Ireland is rather up my alley.

double also, did i REALLY write 10+ pages on hydroelectricity? who am i? maybe if my first year enviroment teacher didnt freak me out with propositions to all the females in my class to come over to his place for drinks and dancing, i woulda stuck it out with geography?

nahhh.

foucault is nowhere to be found near hydro plants and dams, and this poses a bit of a problem. CULLLTURALLLL STUUUDDDIIEZZZZ . long live the struggle towards the inevitable panopticon.

and its true. falling sleeping in public places is mostly not a great idea.

haggard itinerary , swollen guts

2007-11-11T10:26:00.000-08:00

Keflavik-Dublin-Budapest-Dublin-Halifax-Montreal

seems fine enough to me.

im feeling quite contained. i think im becoming more and more like my paw. i am however feeling pretty good about actually booking the effing tickets alas. after much pondering, searching, screen staring, pondering, and my friend debt, i just did it. it helped me feel a little less like i was perma-shitting myself about leaving the island. i think its worked itself into my psyche more than i knew, and after feeling like ive rooted a part of myself here with the people and the surroundings, it´s strange to think of just cutting it off now. 3 months is a strange amount of time indeed. i thought today that i may have forgotten how to book one way tickets, keep too much of a plan at bay, and just go with the flow. i have found an abundance of security on an isolated island in the north which i came to initially with no place to live, work, or attend school, yet it all fell into place almost too quickly. its especially weird in reflecting on my first 7 days here, and how it felt like an eternity, and how i remember telling that crazy bitch from the czech republic that i hitched with on the first day that , 'well, i guess i kinda plan on staying roughly 3 months, but, i don´t think that´ll happen.'

eff me.

Saturday, December 1st, please feel free to show up at the Trudeau airport at 6:00am with nothing on but a yellow g-sting, and maybe bring some salted popcorn, as this would make my transition back to canadiana-land complete and then some. or not. suit yourself. but i´ll find you. !!

around the country in (five) days

2007-11-08T16:00:00.000-08:00

watch out for those wikings.....

i am a hotness which exudes many layers. around 5 or so to be precise.

its great to be ... well, home? !!!!! so ima bit of a cop-out speed demon. i did in fact stop to smell many a rose.

however, tis so nice to be back invading the Berman´s space! ive moved up to a couch again since sleeping, eating, and all out living in a Honda all week, which was tres bon, sans my random travel partner.

i never thought i´d be so glad to see a Reykjavík 72km sign. so what if i cut out a wee chunk of the west? buddy had done me in. all i ask is for a driving buddy that can provide me with the very basics of road touring: good company, good conversation, and an assistant slash back up navigator. is this excessive?

soooo, do you always sigh this much?

yes.

right. so, what do you enjoy besides indie music?

i like crispy apples and a nice piece of cheddar cheese.

(note, this would have been an overly acceptable response coming from anyone else but buddy from NB).

him: sigh.

me: cringe. stop that.

i can´t okay? i just do it. i guess i´m just weird.

me: ............... eeeemoooo.

i know where this is headed.

me: puts on headphones and turns up death to the pixies.

fast forward to the good shiz - lots of beyond epic sightings, some of the most intense driving i´ve ever done, i.e., gravel road through the east fjords, quite literally on the side of a mountain, one side drops off to the ocean, other side drops off to rocks. enie, meany, miney....OH. and hot-pottin´my ass in every sundlaug i can find.

see pics. mkay?

this morning i woke up in the north, in the uni parking lot, with the windows frozen on the inside of the car, and some woman peeking in. this was at 6:30am, or otherwise, still about 3.5 hours of darkness to hack through before i can keep driving. so i swim, steam room and hot pot under the moon until we can continue on. buddy follows me around like a lost dog.

the best place i slept was at a still operating wool factory in the south, minus the sleeping part, as they wind was so intense here that i was certain the car was going over on its side all through the night.

with little more than a week left on the island, i have at least 43,000 things to wrap up before i can book it out. two books, a paper, and some serious carrying on with some fine people before the leprechauns and i meet.

i´ma miss this place hard, but likely more its people.

dear republic of iceland: why do you operate only in extremes of sort? no bother. you´re still pretty fine.

also: easily the best message i´ve recieved , hmm, ever?

'so awesome to get a postcard from a "screw it, i'm just going to carpe my damn diem" trip. it looks like you are having an amazing time! and, linds, i'm not at all sorry if I am to blame for any part in your lack of conventionality, on paper or otherwise. you only need to be coherent for the next couple of years anyway, right? then, what good is it going to do you? keep eating the peach.' -keechy.

damn, i miss those wranglin´days.

dancing behind my eyelids

2007-11-02T14:07:00.001-07:00

remember deadjournal days? damn. teen angst is a terrible, no good, very bad time. i just very recently rid myself on the remaining bit i think. now its manifested itself in a more general, sometimes omnipresent form of bitterness, which one will only encounter if you give me a decent reason to bring it out. some things make me bitter, but more things make me jovial, sometimes!

i think i remembered that journal again because of how i stalked shannon and pined for her almightiness from afar, the days when nathan kris and i would stand in the hall at highschool and nathan would make direct his typical woman-hating remarks towards shancat, and she would just cringe, shake her head, flip him the bird from behind her head, and push her fetal self onwards. my LOVE. i thought, damn, that bitch is cool.

i also remember how i had to resurrect deadjournaling elsewhere after certain stalkers came about, and how it didn´t much survive again until, well now.

last time i was on here, i was VERY bitter. i mean, very bitter. i think i actually spent a good week in the mind and body of a 150 year old woman. becoming so sick in a foreign country is likely my least favorite thing ever. unwillingly bedridden and isolated in a box-like room in an all too quiet and somewhat far end of town, you wonder only between bouts of consciousness: where is my TLC??!?! maw? walo? wtf. i need a SPOOOON.

im better now, thanks.

my life has been rather simple as of late. work paid me the 65% of my wages that they can give me, (sigh sigh sigh), and i moved out of álfhiemer, and i must say, that was THEE most expensive place to live to date, and the quietest. moving was nothing short of fabulous though, easily the quickest move in history. throw some shit in your backpack, sweep up the floor, and book it into town. now, if only moving to mtl would be so pleasant? lesson? rid yourself of all material belongings? no. but... it is rather liberating. although, having a stable living space (purple castle) to settle into will also be very nice.

ko-leen and davið have loved me to the ends of the earth, as they kindly let me sleep here, eat here, and basically help me thrive while in a country of occasional horrors. the world is filled with good people, you just have to find them.

ireland in roughly two-weeks-ish, which is tremendously grand. i spent so much time focusing on making it with iceland that i forgot how great it would be to see ireland, as well as how feasible it is from ísland. i overheard some women today talking in the blue lagoon store, and i just started smillllingg when i heard their accents. CLEARLY northern ireland. they asked me what the hell i was doing, (! ...... i smile really loud..) and i told them im going to to where they´re from very soon, and well, your accents make my life about 200% better. so,
they loved me. they were rather shocked i was traveling alone, .. (here i think about my grandpa loathing me going to this country and the IRA) but wished me the very best and promised me that i would love dublin. well, ...der?

grizzly bear is such ridiculously ridiculous music. this Colorado song sends me right out to lunch.

trying to figure out how to get my ass more mobile the remainder of time im here.
also, must write 10 pages on hydroelectricity, dams, and why iceland´s future sustainability lies in fully harnessing its natural resources. and because, hallador laxness would back me on this one i feel. independent people!

INDEPENDENT PEOPLE!

oh. et ...

electrical storm in your veins

okay, so, its kinda hard to see. i take alot of pictures of the sky?
these dwelling days are spent. halloween still reigns supreme.

in the north, there are lights to catch. note the moon, the sneaky bastard.
Halloweenis - the makeshift inside view, thanks paw .
all-too early AM run home.
AN - the dodgy Belgian.

first quasi-real snowfall in reykjavík this year? regardless, we´re quickly frolicking.

can´t keep my eyes from the circling skies68 álfheimer

The sleepless wind
Has heard all things
Between the sea and sky
In the canyons of the city
You can hear the buildings cry

in keeping with tunnel communication

2007-10-26T06:55:00.000-07:00

looking for someone to euthanise me.

fuck ya´s all.

the lodger

2007-10-24T07:29:00.000-07:00

today i set out in the beautiful wind and rain to get a taxcard, so that the icelandic government wouldn´t take 35% of my hard earned (more of less) wages. i kind of sensed that this wouldn´t go exceptionally smoothly, because, even the most basic tasks here occasionally require tantamonious effort ( i exagerate only a wee bit), but i tried to be optimistic.

optimisim is merely false hope. however, the entire situation is comical, perhaps due to both my complacency and apathy?

'you can´t apply for a tax card if you don´t have a work permit. do you have a work permit?'

OH. ... RIGHT, yes, that! no.

'what about a student permit?'

blank stare.

thing is, I only planned on staying 3 months, hence, not needing a VISA. however, i also neglected getting a work or study permit, because, well, no one ever asked me to prove i had one, (3 jobs later).

silly me. where am I again?

no bother. i only give about 65% at work most days anyways? and i will still leave with an alright chunk - enough to get me home and some anyways.

the fun loving rainbow side of the problem is that the theatre is employed by the state, and i am a bloody foreigner sans permit. this is mostly a huge problem for them. and then ultimatums come into play. PHUN!

i am employed until Nov. 1st. this is also the first day i will be apartment-less again. oh wednesdays. loosing your job and your place on the same day may sound catatrophic, but it´s much the contrary.

this is all shit i knew subconsciously from the start, but never decided to bring it into play.

HOWEVER.

Steph, zee German nomad of extreme sorts and i are shacked up in my small room for 5 days, and i lent her my bike to get around more easily, as i am queen bourgeoise with a bus pass.

she´s something a little like: a ..Geselle! ... ?

'Associated, to craftsman, who went through a normal training period (usually three years) and before the chamber of trade or guild the associating examination existed. As certification the associating letter is issued. - lived in the Middle Ages associated in work and group house in the household of the master. In the late Middle Ages the associating moving and Gesellenbruderschaften developed.'

she warned me not to look into it too much because anyone who writes about it online likely hasn´t lived the experience, thus doesn´t know anything about it REALLY.

she has slept in caves, and cement factories, oh, and just plain outside. did i mention it rains here at least 4 times daily? more balls than i can count.

i would be dead by now. i make a terrible nomad most days. i am naturally much to surley to be wet and underslept.

also, i am sick again. hhh-what? wa-low? penicillin? did i eat all of you? icelandic diesease in my throat. dead like a pig.

tantamonium.

i love thee.

never take anything stronger than amphetamines in the morning...

2007-10-22T08:56:00.000-07:00

or so buddy on the hæð 2. tells me.

-- - - - -a ---i---r---w--a---v---e----s-----

the effing highlights :

grizzly bear, múm (shannon, listen to)... ???, trentemöller, lonely,dear, hraun, Nilfisk, sometime, of Montreal (talked to buddy outside the 10/11 in the early AM?), and FM Belfast, who are quite fun.

other great things: (point form my soul away, i am becoming a geography student, what do you expect?)

-cutting your own hair; haggard.

- the icelandic party cycle x4 (circa 10pm-6am)

-foreigners, !!!,.... this is great in moderation, most times, but, hell.

-femmes from yellow knife

-doctors from sacramento

-biking home ..... (again with the ?)

-white wine and party cake with 9 Hungarian architects

-the island being small enough to not have to make plans to meet up with anyone, and instead being 300% certain that you´ll run into them anyways

-seeing certain people in ubiquitous space and time (closer to one of my all time favorite things)

-tequila sunrise in your pants

-more shark meat. too much amonia.

-íslenka flea markets i would set up fort in for life

-geothermal swimming with Koreans from Hungary (again...........?, is it strange too that a Hungarian delivered me into this world? and so it continues).

there is a girl from Germany who works at þjoðleikhúsið avec moi, et she working as some sort of construction apprentice, or something of this close variation, and part of her contract abroad is that she has find her own place to live, and survive on her own once she gets there, as she was not allowed to bring any money into the country, and accordingly cannot bring any money home that she makes here. crooked shiz no? only in Germany. anyway, i spoke to her for the first time today, and it turns out she´s been sleeping outside, (!!!!), although sometimes sleeps at construction sites, when they don´t lock her out, ... again... (!!!!). so... once i found this out, i told her she can sleep at my place anytime she wants, as she makes my lifestyle look extrordinarily bouregoise. i don´t know what kind of bloody german tradition this is, but, eff me.

my head is thick with thoughts.

bye.

quit pro quo

2007-10-17T09:31:00.001-07:00

i used to go to work and sit blankly in front of a computer monitor in a light yellow basement, waiting on newly admitted (over eager) students to call and ask me if it´s alright if they double major in neuroscience and molecular biology while minoring in mathematics. While perusing perezhilton.com, I´d tell them they can do anything they want to do, just not that. I´m so far from that life now. Lately, I seem to find myself in one of three play-houses, each with its own distinct personaility and people. Sometimes I´ll walk through almost complete darkness, through endless hallways painted black. It´s not uncommon to find yourself stumbling upon an oversized styrofoam fetus with an adidas jersey, or a blow up doll, clad in lingere, fully equipped with 3 resourseful orfaces. Other times a womans omnipresent voice will abrudptly echo throughout the rooms of the house in sharp and demanding icelandic. of course, i run for the hills when this happens. Step into the makeshift elevator and be greeted by a man wearing only bright yellow bloomers and large fake teeth. I nod politely. As we ascend into the theatre heavens, I look through the peep holes to each floor as they pass by quickly. with each passing floor i will briefly catch something that may or may not make me want to look twice, although there is no time to look again, its gone. he steps out into a room where everyone is dressed in tight white cloth, swimming on the hard floor. I nod, and close the door. Now, total-playhouse-transcendence- music , singing,.. my floor. If i have learned anything at all, its that icelanders love to sing, so much that they will find any excuse to do so, which is beyond fine with me, because its always astoundingly well done. like my teacher who sang to my class. these kinda things keep me level. keep me fine. I dont know what they´re saying, but its fine, because its beautiful all the same. In my next life, I choose to be an Icelandic actor.

nordic-thai lunch. this is my new favorite kind of lunch. one icelander, one swede, one dane, (insert me), and thai food. nordica-thai, think of the possibilities.

today there were bloody canadians at work Kafka and Son. I could smell their O´s and U´s.

dear grizzly bear, bring on zee magic.

alas. i am leaving. the lone rider on bus #19 at 11:21pm.

bits of bone

2007-10-14T09:34:00.001-07:00

possible explaination will follow, someday. time is not on my side today.

imagine peace, and whatnot, won´t you?

john´s peace tower, par yoko, the crazy bitch, - Viðey island.

mosfellsbær fun:

the self induced facebook profile picture that never was

RVK:

my friend An discovered that there was a recent dumping of imported pumpkins on the island. this renews some kind of faith in me. this will undoubtedly go great with my orange lights dad is sending and my soon to be hopeful homelessness again.

keep meeting great people, who feed me too much of a wide array of different boozes, and continually mock how i say my O´s and U´s in the most gentle way possible.

will return soon, loves.

that other realm

2007-10-09T08:25:00.000-07:00

i seem to be playing hookey, (and just what the fuck is that?) from work, to be at school researching the aluminum revolution which is iceland, oh, and, updating, again? what is this?

here is where i seem to stay sometimes. those quasi-nomadisms were short lived.

i wish i could say my only bit of sanity lies in a transistor radio, but it is seemingly more advanced than that. wa-allo? bourgeoisie?

please take note that only dairy products reside in my fridge. i must have made an ammends somewhere along zee line?

ko-leens face says it all: ''__________,__________;___.'' i´ll leave that for her to fill in. whatever it is, im feeling it.

the happily unified for LIFE. cute ;)

toppin´er off. .... this is the kinda shiz i like to see.

Davið is trying to be SO casual. and i am finally (clearly) on my (insert some mid range number, mid range for you, not me) glass of wine, not buying into it at all.

the primal stage of sickness (icelandic disease).

but, uhh, i wanna play outside too? so effing shot. send my warmest regards to buddy!

and thus concludes thee worst photo-blog-entry ever.

LOVE,

x ___________________.

2000 light years from home

2007-10-07T10:26:00.000-07:00

culture shock is in fact a slow process that happens extrodinarily gradually over time, and not an immediate smuck in the face.

yesterday and today the benevolent sun decided to grace iceland with her presence. i however was too incapacitated (the non-self induced kind), to enjoy her, (yes, i have SARS again). whodathunk?

icelandic weddings and children´s birthday parties. continually humbled by the world. this language really is something of the mountains. i enjoy it alot more when wee ones are speaking it. it really blows my mind.

makeshift thanksgiving soon, .. ?.. if i dont die first.
very makeshift halloween yet to come. must. find. latex.cat.suit
gender power dynamics.
bursting glands.
the stones.
OH.

stop me if i told this one before. quasi freaking out to ones boss about the uncanny silence of ones dwelling WILL land you a 1930´s radio.

icelandic talk radio. gets me out of bed in the morning. gets me to sleep at night.
reading angels of the universe.
tea and orange juice.
a bed.

my life is near complete. but entirely not.

je táime. i´ll be better next time.

the 90´s were pretty terrible.

2007-10-03T05:22:00.000-07:00

im as big now as ive ever been. i attribute this to kókómjólk and soupy pizza. not even as horribly mediorce pizza as double pizza. castle? i hope the boi who is inhabiting your purple walls is being extrodinarily good to you. but i am le tired. le tired. le tired. people at work must think im on drugs. out of body again, leave a message. i went from a 20 minute walk to work to almost an hour 'commute' of some variation. how did this happen? oh right, the room.
this room im inhabiting is cute. i´ll admit it. its all i need in life most times and then some. it coupled with my camera and my bottle of tequila are my only possesions now. this room was made for wildminding, if not the whole damn basement floor. how do i continually end up living below street level? sarah harmer? is there anybody out there?

the room is quite possibly a microcosm for this country; small, secluded, quiet, (too quiet sometimes), desolate and quaint. i am certain iceland resides in another dimension, perhaps the same ones that philip k. dick is so fond of. it has its own special place within space and time. proof? communication breakdown. first is my somewhat avid practicing of the french language when i encounter hoity intolerance towards imperial english. this disarms people at light speed. dont get me wrong, my disclaimer remains that i want to learn and pick up on as much icelandic as humanely possible (this doesnt say much for me), however, don´t expect positive feedback when you speak about me to others in it (old farts at work), as i will gladly make the situation even more interesting with a language you dont understand (i am not bitter, i am fun loving and a delightful little worker). this happens but very rarely. like i said before, i will come to QC and speak icelandic. besides, its not languages that kill people, despite how mangled they are, its ACCENTS. you can´t buy these, and they are hard to obtain, which in turn makes the language somehow highly incomplete without it. second facet of communication breakdown: zee telephones. or serious lack thereof. they may very well be play toys. somehow, 00-1-613-283-2751, and every other number i can remember from home-ville (save my moms, .. STRANGE), flat out refuses to carry my overpriced call across the north atlantic. sometimes i reach a friendly woman in denmark, sometimes an angry czech man, other times i get a whole lot of no one, as well as no rings, maybe a beep, no dial tones, but instead a echo and a whole lot of static. play toys. where is everybody? i even tried to call a fetus in ottawa. instead i reached buddy in a place where i dont know what they speak.

even the operator is on perma-holidays, or at least has an icelandic work ethic of sorts. like my boss. there is no 9-5, but there is something like a quarter to 11-chain smoking-excessive coffee consumption-non functional-4:39 day. im being highly irrational. im just jealous because im such a good worker. such fine foreign meat. although, these mid-day naps are fairing quite well for me. 11am strides in and im off finding a dark room to power-kip in. how remarkably refreshing. who knew sleep could come so easily? have i been fighting it all this time? there is so much air in this country to breath in, it just exhaustes me. the icelandic work ethic and i are going to be tight. be good to your foreigners, and they will reward you with the best they know how. or maybe not.

anyways, yoko, paul and ringo are coming tuesday.

get out of town

2007-09-29T15:54:00.000-07:00

this morning (or late this afternoon) i woke up in selfoss (magic!) which, in some respects, may be some variant of a smiths falls apparently, in terms of its small, bedroom town, but much easier on the eyes. either way, its country side, and accordingly there are waterfalls, mossy-ness and hot springs to be seeked out. however, here is a place that proves that the line between isolation and a vast sense of freedom can be very slim.

long story short, i wanted to get my naked ass in a hot spring. however, with rather an extremely late start to the day, we didnt venture out much into the hike (please note, entirely unprepared), until quite late in the day. and it was wet. wet wet wet.. but a fucking beaut nonetheless. inline with feeling a pinch of missing home, and cooperating with the icelandic mentality of excess, i had some swigs out of the tequila bottle before we set off (strickly for keeping warm purposes, of course) and went on my jolly way. everything was smooth until we were quite far into the mountains, and i was beginning to feel like i was slowly going a little bit bizonkers. this can be easily justified with the thinning out of air slash high altitude, and overall vastness which kind of penetrates your soul. and it should in no way be associated with the tequila. with this kind of isolation comes insanity you know. so, basically, i lost my head in the mountains today, but i got some great pictures. i also got pretty effing wet and threw something in my side out (yes i am 82), which can be attributed to my running long jumps through wet grass over large streams to get back to civilization. this is the stuff that makes one both very free and very crazy.

also, saw Import Export last night, and it was as raw as i had both expected and hoped, and then some, and then some more. there is nothing to hide in this world, and Seidl will prove it.
i also found myself leveling with the Ukranian protaganist somewhat. minus the cam-whoring, maybe.

irish coffee and sleep.

'excuse me,... what does sow mean?'

2007-09-27T12:30:00.001-07:00

jesus. today the weather was such a huge bitch. i remember the days not too long ago, (maybe 12),when i was le jobless, le schooless, (hhhwhat?) and woke up to the wind and rain trying to break down the modest icelandic architecture, and i could just stick around inside til it calmed the eff down. not anymore.

taking my quasi-nomadism to the city was a good first start, as my dreams of wandering the lush country-side with my wool socks were all to quickly tarnished by the all too uncooperative weather patterns, but its not all that different here. i still feel like a poor farm girl in my oversized wool sweater when im struggling to stay upright against the wind and rain. its really quite a site. i wish i could document it for ya´ll. people complacently pushing on through the streets, unable to see where the fuck it is they´re going. god must hate iceland. its funny, because, until im soaking wet and cold, which has only happened twice, once being today, im laughing in my head about the sheer ridiculouslness of it all. how its so batshit crazy outside and theres absolutely nothing you can do about it but smile and hope to find where it was you were headed.

i, i do love it.

hire a foreigner, but pay them as well as an islander, mmkay? it almost pains me to think ive fallen into this category? before, foreigners were everybody else. how can a canadian be a foreigner? also, why am i working my ass of suddenly? do i look polish or something? I KID. jeeze, calm down. but i haven´t been this pooched since, well, when i used to get really pooched way back before i sat in an office all summer. have i mentioned how when someone asks me something in icelandic, i find myself frantically searching my lexicon for some half assed vocab to string together, and what do i find everyfuckingtime, but le francais. thus, hopefully in quebec some icelandic will sparadically spurr out.

sigur ros´s film premieres this evening, although, i feel that it may very well be sold out pretty hard. it also appears that i may have to give in to buying an all too pricy for me airwaves pass, because, well, i dont feel as though i can justify missing it, especially if people fly in from other countries to document it and take it all in. god dammit.

no kitchen access in t-minus 5 days. can i weigh this against the fact that i will suddenly have washing machine access in the same amount of time ? woof.

anybody wanna send me some tequila? my bones are cold.

speed post-me

2007-09-24T12:48:00.000-07:00

point form dramz queen, sans the dramz.

-wind. WIND. blowing the doors off life kinda wind.
-cucumber and green tea with mjólk. apparently i am no longer at arms with diary products. cést bon?
-work #1 - in love with Sweed girl who is training me, has excellently fabulously stories, and she pretty much makes my day. i.e., her epic of meeting her icelandic bf in HK. ha.
-work#2 - NEWFIE. gay, gorgeous newfie, who is somewhat managing to fill the void of pengy here on the island. almost. but not quite. he loves me because we know where its at, and we appear to be of the few non-europeans invading this land.
-got a new castle as of Oct.1. wow. ? Sweed is going to maybe hook me up with a mattress. walks out into traffic...'she doesnt need anything.'
-Reykjavík International Film Festival. i repeat. ______________. RIFF commences next week. this lands me somwhere along the lines of definate ingasm, esp since Seidl´s 'Import Export' is playing, which, I felt convinced i would never see for any good reason what so ever.
-Iceland Airwaves would, and may still, rob me blind.
-no ferry home afterall.
-maybe land in Denmark before Canadiana-land? visit ye olde colonizers?

and, time is gone.

quasi-thoughtful insights someday. promise.

ode to zee sun.

2007-09-21T07:01:00.000-07:00

fabulous is:

Kristin Olaf´s documentary 'how do you like Iceland?' .... what grand timing to watch this well crafted peice ! 21 days on the island is sufficient time to form the expected stereotypical foreigner opinions; alot of which reassuringly affirmed by 9 other alien perceptions.

what stands out most is,

the somewhat subtle yet very much there act of clearing ones nasal passage. ..... . that .... muucus sounding...noise... that alot of people seem to unsconsciously do here.... erking yet distinct! the viking men as ultra sensitive brutes. the viking women as straightforward and independent. whatever the temperature outside, such is ruled out by the extreme warmth that exists inside the homes, which, as i have experienced, could not be more true. landing in the country and experiencing a simeltaneous sense of freedom that comes with the vastness, coupled with the immediate sense of it not being in a fully-foreign place; almost like a place you knew previously, or wished you knew, (i especially get this notion is downtown RVK). the pros and cons to knowing so many people in the country, and running into these people, and meeting so many people through one person, and then making the connections between people, who likely, on some level, knows everyone else you know, for some highly comical reason. the extremo liberal stances towards social issues. the dark, strange, and sometimes dry humor. (ha). the excess, oh the excess. im thinking of boozing for some reason? the work hard play harder mentality, which coinsides nicely with the capitalist ideology that reigns supreme here, yet is evened out by the obviousness of social democracy. accordingly, how it is very hard to group people into different classes here purely based on apperances. and, well, most of all, the arts and culture sector, which to say thrives is a huge, blatant understatement. every icelander ive met thus far has something to offer up in terms of their artistic mind; singing, dancing, acting, instrumental ability, and creating in general.

sweeeet.

buddy at the coffee shop i seem to frequent has incorporated me into his great escapist plan to flee the island for canadian education, and hopefully visit NY. i can see how this would be a something of huge importance to an islander, namely, getting the hell off the island at some point.

interesting is:

iceland has the highest rate SOS by children in the world

wahh?

BLESSBLESS

cooked

2007-09-16T14:01:00.000-07:00

thanks to Simmi and his lovely friend Lisa, I had a chance to see parts of the island I could only ever see far in the distance from RVK.

apparently the power-like snow that had fallen a day or so before in the mountains was in fact 2 and sometimes 3 feet of snow? i think i have a serious national geographic complex now.

amazing landscape, as per usual, and a bright crisp day, followed by some more country-side driving, my week is now complete.

also, that was a damn good burger.

(un)fortunately, i have discovered muscles i never dreamed existed until today. my glutes and i will hopefully decide to make up tomorrow.

and, im spent.

dry humps for all!

go back to sleep

2007-09-15T04:14:00.001-07:00

oh, the tourism industry is a fine thing. not to say that´s what grabbed ahold of me necessarily and drew me towards ísland 4-5 years or so ago, but im sure it aided in someway, like most advertising does.

pure.natural.unspoiled.iceland.

yes, which, to the eye, seems to be mostly true. however, i remember this wretched article for Theories of Difference (draws blood), which dealt with the hypothetical ´regions´ of the geography of a country in regards to tourism, such as the front and back regions a country. the front regions, if i recall correctly, are made for mass capitalist appeal, as to give the tourist a perception, however much of a ´false reality´ it may be, but what nonetheless drives the market, i.e, restuarants decorated with fish and fishing nets and sailor apparel for a place like Halifax. This gives people what they want to see.

Before I came here, i felt certain there could be no such thing as a front region, because, well, how can a place like this hide whats really below the surface?

well, as my friend and I riffled through different ideas, such as how it seems that a large part of icelanders don´t recycle, due to apparently a bit of a scandal years ago, where they were separating the different materials, but it turned out it was all going to the same heap. (!!!!!), which in turn, kinda stiffled any more effort on their part to continue to try. this seems ultra bizarre for a place like this. this is not to say this is necessarily happening anymore.

also...... many people drive downtown here. and drive like montrealers at that. everything in 101 RVK and surrounding area are entirely reachable by foot, bike, or otherwise,
but then, like we discussed, you see these big effing SUV´s barreling down one lane streets, whose wide can barely contain its americana gurth. also, no one seems to take the bus, save the elderly, the foreigners, and the poor. this burns. petrol too. ive never seen a full bus load here yet. wait, who am i anyways?

dont fret. this is likely above all my sheltered world view, as it is quite evident there are places FAR worse off in terms of these factors. however, we all know globalization is alive and well, so why shouldnt islands in the north atlantic have a right to do what they want with their garbage and drive oversized gas guzzlers and get no more or no less rap for it than any other country in the world. hell, power to them. im not hating. promise. i love this place too much.
and every last neo-viking ive met that proudly inhabits it. everything is still in its right place, and of course there are many efforts in other areas to maintain the island, such as the hydrogen bus(es) and the huge efforts towards stopping aluminum smelting, among many other things im quite likely unaware of. besides, who am i but a bloody alien, plunged here in an almost mr.bean-esque way.

pooowwweerrr.

also, might i add, im am by far the most un-put-together person here, at least in the vicinity im staying. although squeaky clean, my one of two pairs of jeans are wearing a little misshaped and thin. it also might be because i dont have any shiny gold tight pants to my name. one day! or, likely, not.

how i love thee.

above all, the arts and culture scene here is very much alive and well. and well, we all know that this is what ultimately matters most in our world!

kick it.

to float - divine

2007-09-13T04:46:00.000-07:00

AND then, Northern Ireland invades Iceland, with all the drunken debauchery one might expect, even after they lose 2-1.

-insert almost indeiciferable accent- WE´RE FROM NORTHERN IRELAND, BUT WE LOVE ICELAND. chug.

NICE.

its okay with me. im going. someday.

today i will try and squeeze a kennitela, or, arbitrary big brother racking number, out of the registry, so i can pretend to study icelandic. pretend only because i feel this wont fly easily, because remember, there´s no reasons for Canadians to be here. why couldn´t I be Polish? i fib.

maybe its because ive been eating primarily mjólk (thick, sour milk like substance) on cereal that ive been having daily bodily shutdowns. or maybe its all the air here. its hard to be hardcore in any sense of the word, even as a Canadian, when all I could do is sleep sleep sleep.

need some more shark oil, apparently.

knitting is off to a really bad effing start. Vala? eugh.

the Hungarian architect seems to enjoy meeting nightly now to practice english conversational skills, which, well, you can imagine how smoothly that goes over with someone like me. cohereance !!!!!!! im learning it.

less out of body experiences, less nausea, and more minerals. and productivity. and, .... well thats about sufficient.

finaLLy, thanks to Ingimar, I saw the tail end of a fun fun fun preformance by jakobinarina (sans accents) last night, and yeah, they are something quite inline with what i feel a certain few, if not someone, would love to break a move to.

green tea and peaches, baby.

con't from below. time runs out. y'know.

2007-09-10T07:43:00.000-07:00

so, when I took my apron off (ooooh., the big determining move), things became clear. no more shit from you , you or you. This could have been a great moment to make my dramatic exit, however, my absentmindedness seemed to have misplaced the keys for my bike lock. sigh. This largely delayed my plans to leave on less than perfect terms, which turns out, has its plus sides. still breathing, thinking about how i am unable to transcend my way out of this situation, - - another comic turn, which my life seems to revolve around. Leaving nonetheless sans keys, i departed with two handshakes, one even for the mother..... that wench, ... and headed towards something else out into the rain. It's hard not to feel a little sorry for yourself when youre walking in the rain, without your beloved bike, and carrying only the crumpled 1000kronur bill he left you for the work that day, only using it to purchase a saw to unleash my bike from imprisonment.
All i could think of to feel better was Brad., of all people, a benevolently scattered man who appreciated, not corrected my work. I know this is all just a part of the game. everyones playing along, they just dont know it.
Iceland's flat out rejection of public pay phones is a good message towards my general angst towards the all too convenient telephone, which ring and ring and ring at home and i just want to bloody well hack it to pieces.

fuck it.

its okay with me too, marlowe.

on a significantly lighter note, the diary products here have me in awe and wonder. i will be smuggling skyir back to le canada by the sacks, but god damn all the milk variations to hell. i just want 1% milk. please?

moods change with the weather here, which is light speed. the sun will come, just give it a few days.

i am my own least favorite alien.
i am forever indebted to communication to keep my heart alive.

rediscover communication

2007-09-10T07:28:00.000-07:00

|i radiate more heat than light|

maybe i feel its easier to remember all the good and exciting things which happen while i am here, why is why i feel less inclined to record them. it's funny and strangely wonderful timing that i met her the same day things began to slowly tear me down a few. she had this calm energy about her, and she has been one of the very few people i have had little problem expressing myself to, with the exception of Ingimar and Vala, who seem to get my dry kinda humor. She told me i had a good communicative aurora, and not to let the fact that although the Alergian and I (and his mother, who is not fond of my working style at all) come from different worlds, we have alot in common. She also told me about transcendental meditation, (rather sublime choice of conversation, i know), and how it helped her recover from cancer, and as well about the school her and her husband have in Iowa dedicated specifically to teaching this. So, while his mother followed me around all day at my heels, re-doing everything i would just finish, I thought about this, trying to tell myself i may know how to keep myself in one peice in less than desirable times. The Polish girl, who left for the states days before, was an excellent springboard for the Algerians commands, I however, was of course, somewhat resistant. i know, its only been less than a week, but I do not take well to making less than everyone else, working as diligently as i know how, and still getting unnecessary wrap for it.

casually wiping out

2007-09-08T13:10:00.000-07:00

i never thought id be so complacent with so much rain.
its fine.
reykjavik makes the island come together. the high possibility of random chance encounters gives this place a warm touch.
par example. stumble upon Vala, who's buying gourmet cheese. stumble upon an American guy you haven't met before, but talked to online through the network (im all about the networking now, its good shiz) and be all like, "hey, uhm are you.. -----?" of course he is. YAE. good people everywhere. good people and free beer apparently, which, like we discussed, is a g-d send in this country. i AM the homogenizing queen. pretend you are a student, mingle with good people from everywhere, experience extreme forms of amazing nationalisms, and form world alliances. also, apparently i like beer now? it is just way too casual. meeting people here helps ease the first tension i am apt to hear from others... "why iceland" well,...... these people know, clearly. unspoken givens.

small enough for chance encounters. big enough to keep some anonymity.

strange days, interesting evenings, cloudy mornings.

bike to work. and just what the fuck is that. it seems as though what i was doing all summer in mcgills dank basement was not work. work smells like onions a bit, and looks like a busy body. strap on ye olde apron and giver 190 (something which people just have absolutely no idea what this is here).

the Algerian owner seems to think im his quasi-illegal foreign prodigy. he is as meticulous as he is lofty. "just feel for it" he tells me, as im not supposed to set the timer on the oven, use the oven mitts, (????) measure, weigh, or anything too specific, but just go with the flow. really get into it. i never knew pizza could be such an artful process. he is teaching me his way - and his way is wildly unconventional, but very rigid in maintaining these conventions. they work. i made a fabulous pizza. who am i anyways? sandwiches are part of my youth. im not sure how this will continue to go, but he seems to like me. mostly foreigners seem to come in, so the language barrier is only a bit of an issue. i had a boy come in and ask me for 10kronur. i gave him a sugar cube and put his hood up and told him to carry on.
coffee is strangely hard to master - or maybe thats the foam. i dont really care.

wet clothes. perma fucky hair (learn to care less and less). this is about the only place in the world i can imagine where one is not starred at and thought to be a loonie when wearing a huge effing yellow rain poncho, looking like an oversized bananna boat coming down the street. we're all so wet, together!

finally starting to read on the road. trying not to get flat broke before iceland airwaves. living like a bachelor with packaged noodles, beer, and well, sky.ir, which, might actually have crack in it. no, they do not subside on fish here, they get it the hell outta here.

wanna go further north. wanna see the hot springs yet. wanna get a huge icelandic flag and drape my naked ass in the very material which represents a nation that raped and pillaged my ancestors and made beautiful celtic/nordic hybrids from.

listening to Rush's Presto album is sheer relevance here i find. everything in tune with the workings of nature, especially the sun and wind bringing everything and everyone in unity.

mid-atlantic range

2007-09-04T08:16:00.000-07:00

Ísland appears to run on te & kaffe (its ooohkay with me)
Íslanders everywhere are reading the God Delusion (pagan call to arms)
Ísland police are considerably more tame and much less mtl-gestapo-esque (apparently youre not aloud on the side of the highway; i didnt want to be there anyways).
streets run in mad circles, drivers have full control of the road, (100% mtl, and 0% like halifax where you can walk out and they will gladly give you the right of way).
ultra neurotic weather (dont say you told me so) runs a little something like: sun peaking, rain,drizzle,sun,rainbow,drizzle,cloud clearing,more sun,(insert wind)drizzle,sun,heavier rain,clouds,(insert more violent wind), nice cloud patterns, wetness-all in a 20minute range. love.
scored a wool sweater at the red cross for 3hundredmillion kronur less thanmost places.on with the homogenizing queen. friendly smiles by passer-byers, crispy air, smells like pure life, strong beer ,. coffee coffeee coffeeeee refilll...ssss

where's this blog,china bear?
pengy, crazy hair missesyew.
wondering & wandering,......

drizz

2007-09-03T14:14:00.000-07:00

slivovice and rotten shark today ´ a nice mix of mish mash cultural exchange. everyone i meet seems to know im canadian by my accent. this kills me in the best way possible.

did the golden circle today with barbara, made quite the distance in quite the weather.
fabulous scenery to follow in http://www.zooomr.com/photos/linsee0

got lucky with rides today, until the last bit of the way back into the city centre at the end of a long wet day, when things got exceptionally shady, lucky for me im quick, and barbara swift!

icelandic music and great company and hospitality continues.

czech booze makes me warmer than ive ever been, and in the most necessary of times as well. apparently my coats not water proof afterall. must do something about this... .. :Þ

vala is a sweetheart. i want an icelandic wool sweater very badly. might be some bourgeois splurging here soon. ææææ!

im slowly learning how to pronounce a few places and things.

still being pampered. love + you

and uh, guess what, it was effing SUNNY today. stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

2007-09-02T07:53:00.001-07:00

final day in Nova Scotia. LOVE.
wise words from andrew, ´dont accept any wooden nickels´.. wait,,, yeah?

harbour noises sounding too much like Sloan´s ´money city maniacs´intro.

nice, big hugs!
the land of fire and ice, - day one, fiends!

okay i lied, here´s a wee re-route. http://www.zooomr.com/photos/linsee0/
seems to fit more photos easier than here, . . . .

i wish there was some way i could pretend to make this seem organized and well laid out;instead, its gonna be jumbled and all over the place, kinda like the essence of this trip?

biked some today, got only a handful of pics. hmm, what else, started compiling my bike (alas) into one functional piece of work... so far so good, had a wee bit of help luckily. came and woke
up Vala and þorgnyr at an equally ungodly hour. told sleep to take a hike, and went and swam in a geothermal pool (they doooo exist,,,..! ) with some seriously blonde people. i feel i am blending mostly okay. homogenizing is the key to obscuring potential touristy vibes i suppose.

in better news, i saw the northern lights when we were coming close to landing. beneath the stars and above the clouds, glowing green painted the sky. then even closer and it the sky was red. the sun actually rose and stayed up. the mythological norse of the north must have known i was coming.

its so quiet here. so quiet and quaint yet extreme.

likely more pics sometime, same adddress,,.. do it.

heart yew cats

blame it on the mac

2007-09-02T07:53:00.000-07:00

dear atlantic province; you make my heart swell with glee

2007-08-31T17:58:00.000-07:00

Halifax- jour uno

too many good people in this part of the world.

no, i cant pose politely for a nice dinner picture. damn you!
Andrew and Amanda, the Dutchman and Aussie

rainy land gardens

Lisa, Andrew and Walter's ultra-humble aboad.

burritos + Boones central! (yeeees, .... BOONES!)

the living room of good energy

my room. yes, i am special and loved and lucky beyond my time.

despite the rain all day, its been an amazing. i've met so many people already in such a limited time and space. tomorrow is the farmer's market and atlantic version of the fringe fest, which, essentially, is too cool because the MTL fringe fest rocked my socks almost too hard. did i mention i love working in canadian currency still?

Lisa is an amazing girl, and pretty much the youngest person in body and soul i know.

escape is at the hand of the travellin' man

2007-08-30T07:25:00.000-07:00

last day/night with the luxuries such as a bed, technological bodily extensions, and familiarities. Stayed at Adam's last night after a day of last minute wandering around montreal collecting things they will likely confiscate from me at the airport like pepper spray. le sigh. autopiloted towards my apartment (or was mine anyways, still is technically until the 1st) and felt a small rush of memories of the fun times had in that small space this year. my heart feels like its going to bust at any given moment now. very excited and twice as apprehensive.
think i've got a bit of a tenative plan for the 36 hours in halifax, and am looking forward to the atlantic province experience which, regardless whether or not it can be Simms' Newfy-land.
friends and family have been so good to me already, as i have received more than the emotional backing i seem to require to make this all seem feasible, and i just hope such continues on throughout the continent and otherwise! i also hope you made it across the fucking ocean.

in the ulcerating silence perspective comes

extra strength reflection

2007-08-26T21:07:00.000-07:00

chaotically out of order is, much like it was, is summer: in RETROSPECT, minus alot of times i would feel too camera-whorey and refrain. i promise this wont continue in the future.

about to swallow a fetus whole. pre-spins.

pre-mexicano, post-breakdown
nothing is possible with percocets (summer begins with some holes in your mouth)
learning the hungarian way, the ONLY way. jeeze.
the Italian third degree
metaphorical exile
getting all hot and bothered by ones own hotness.
mid-birthday-shot lovin
"No Jim, Jim! Jim, I mean it."
dead batteries miss capturing the Sky float. tear.
Germany still pwns yew
get out of town
forget sleep for a while
wake up in a tent 3 hours away and make it to work for 8:54am

celebrating one year closer to mortal decay

2007-08-20T13:51:00.001-07:00

although chronologically ass backwards, i was moussed pretty hard.

pour moi?
HAPPY -was-yer-BIRFDAY, DAVEY!
beer/rum cocktails. (i'd like to meet the innovator of this creole, and force them to listen to my could very well have been painful morning after story).

who needs Hallmark when you got banana-in-transit covers, Bobbit defense stories, and hybrid boooze.

Julia is the most animated person i've added to my collection of beyond interesting peeps.
fuck publisher's -- do yuk yuks. ! or is that a purely yester-years phenomenon?

my balls are killing me.

better for us if you don't understand

2007-08-19T14:01:00.000-07:00

losing all conception of time.

why im a bad city slicker:

dont touch me. this includes feet, even if you are sitting in front of me. whatever happened to personal bubbles? GONZO!

dont look at me. this includes with your eyes. especially don't look at me hoping to get some form of eye contact back, just so you can quickly look away and feel significantly less isolated in vast urbania. why do you think they invented newspapers, and better yet, portable music devices? to DIVERT this kind of behavior.

okay really. im being hyper-retarded again. but there's really no escaping peeps sometimes. likely doesnt help things any when you lock yourself up in an institution with them all day away from the sunshine and "real" forms of city humanity which you are supposed to remain merely a mass to. how DO people live sanely in places like, oh, i dont know, ASIA?

in my defense, i love people. just not masses, or even large groupings of people for that matter. they smell like.. things.. and...are clearly here to make my psyche go blinkers. par example, i like old couples from the south who are fascinated by smoking devices and wear matching jumpsuits. i can hack that shite. i like kids too. conclusion: its everyone in between these two stages.

je suis un beyatch. i am my mother's daughter. this means social anxiety lies rampant somewhere in my core. im not blaming anyone!

this weekend was a right off of sorts, as in, trangressing my usual serious lack of moderation into some sphere of new extreme radical form of studying, who am i anyways?

i also managed to attribute to andrea's loss of voice, and lock a certain wonderful co-worker up with me dans le bibliotheque all day saturday.

i am almost fully preparedly unprepared.

whew. lucky this came out on here and not on buddy foot toucher.

also, shannon? are you surviving your newly aquired holes? dirt-y. REALLY though, jesus, i hope sleep is gracing you with its drug induced presence and you are healing like the magical fetus you are!

strange days and clean slates

2007-08-16T07:33:00.000-07:00

Ingimar's sweet, sweet photo's.

---- aussi;

http://thedoublecross.blogspot.com/

sadly leads to this:

http://bikelanediary.blogspot.com/2007/08/charlie-rip.html

....... :\ .......

R.I.P, buddy. at least he went out doing what he loved.

in other useless happenings,

-i still smell like a hiatus, which smells something like sunscreen, firewood, and unproductivity that successfully went unexplained.
-i got no pictures. WTF.
-im still reading about art cinema and trying not to mish mash it with post coloniality, ---- EXCESS.
-i still have an ever present beef with power, especially embodied in the form of boarder control. ....scoff.
-i have stalker-esque neighbours who feel taunted by the idea of my unexplained dissapearances.
-empathy for newly admitted students lost in oblivion, and people with holes in their mouth.
-pre-missing a certain newfie who is headed to the land of anti-rascism.
-thinking of conjuring up some really half assed summer highlights addition here soon; how else am i to reflect on past manglefests?
-loathing on the tame souls.
-loving on the thought of escapisms, nomadisms, and nostalgic lyrical content i used to dwell over not so long ago

if i ever get outta here
thought of giving it all away
to a registered charity, all i need is a pint a day
if i ever get outta here
if we ever get outta here

dot dot dot

trying on these lives

2007-08-06T21:01:00.001-07:00

recent re-living of Altman-mania pour mon examen has me in an okay spot,.

Short Cuts DVD in the schoolio library comes with the Raymond Carver short stories, which, well, rools.

i got nothing.

i got nothing other than if this weekend didn't come into reality, I would likely still be pouting over the series of shite-ended events that have been attempting to plauge my nomadic ways.
what can i say other than that a) some people spoil the shit out of me and b) i'm likely the most impatient mammal going.

as buddy Joe Walsh would say, life's been good to me so far, and so it has! I'm slowly departing from the final bit of teen angst that has attached itself to my extrodinarily early-20's.

thanks for loving me long time.

i feel that new-neighbour-buddy recieved with utmost clairvoyance the slight hint dropped on him recently.. i'm still a nice person, right? i can prove it, and still someday manage to maintain a neighbourgly-ness about myself that excludes the person through the wall next to you's hyper-awareness of your, well, everything! all my neighbours are kramer-esque.

i've been tired.

i'll have better stories once you deserve them.

DeLillo and I are off . . .[]

interview her uterus. that's where all the plots intersect. talk to her nipples. her nipples are sensitive to messages from orbiting satellites. you'll get some stimulating quotes. talk to her clitoris. you'll have to submit question in advance. the clitoris doesn't always speak to me. but it will speak to you. it speaks in codes. it speaks in tongues.

some learnings, ...found my breed.

2007-08-01T08:30:00.000-07:00

meet
Rauðíkorni (Sciurus vulgaris). ha! c'est moi. bet you won't find buddy in your living room.

these icelandic dwelling squirrels pre-beat the shit out of the all too friendly montreal squirrels.

i mean, c'mon, sciurus vulgaris .... !!!!

Sciurus vulgaris lives and nests in deciduous and coniferous forests. These squirrels prefer to live in large, mature trees that can provide them with an abundant supply of food in the form of seeds or acorns. Trees chosen as nesting sites usually have hollowed out cavities or large holes in their trunks which can be used as nests. A high quality nest may be used for several years, and individuals always maintain several nests to which they can escape when being pursued by a predator.

NEAT.

When a female comes into estrous, the usually non-gregarious males gather in her home range to compete for the opportunity to mate with her. After mating occurs, male squirrels return to their home ranges.

;)

Sciurus vulgaris and other tree squirrels are not found in groups, except when males gather within a female's home range to compete for the opportunity to mate with her. They are not territorial and the home ranges of individuals may overlap considerably.

the end.

uh.....? oh... .. ! righttt.

2007-08-01T06:31:00.000-07:00

Dear Lindsay Terry,

Thank you for your application. We have read through your profile and we are very much interested in you becoming our next au pair. Please contact us at the following email address or call us.

Please feel free to ask questions you might have about our family. Please also tell us when you would like to start your stay as an au pair in our family.

We would like to have a resposible person to help us with the boys and ligth house work. We migth stay in California for 2 to 3 months during winter during which time boys will not stay in kindergarden. You would need to have a visa to USA. And Preferable to be from one of the EEA countries.

We are looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Best regards

Family Eydis Hilmarsdottir

i will think of something intelligable to say about this mucky muck some time soon.

hello from the children of planet earth

2007-07-30T18:10:00.000-07:00

can't stop listening to grizzly bear or somaFM's white noise all day at work. i think i enjoy feeling slightly debillatated and lathargic for a chunk of the day. it sustains my basement dwelling to a degree.

new-neighbor-buddy and i have been hanging more often lately (?), and i recently discovered that he is quite old! hah, as in.. not that old, but, at least 63% more tolerable in longer durations than old neighbor buddy was.

new neighbor buddy is considerate at least, and also likes to make me food on slight occasion (i hope to continue this pattern everywhere i go). did i mention no window-shaking-immortal-fucking either? that's a plus most days as well.

this weekend apparently i couldnt hack being inside, so i basically convinced myself that along with buddy, we'd do some serious biking. oh shit yes, marathon material that made it off the island (to the other wee islands, of course), and everywhere else. it was pretty damn ass sweet the distance we covered in a day. then i did it half ways over again the next day, and kayaked (alas) my bones to full unforgiveness.

otherwise, progress towards the volcanic island is slowly but surely progressing, and thus gradually releasing some pressure on me. today i actually booked the tickets. (!!!!!!!!!!!!) mtl to halifax, where i will spend 24 hours with the atlantic province dwellers and hopefully new-neighbor-buddy's sister, which officially clears me from being a racist (ask Adam), and then from halifax to ye olde Reykjavik!

le maximus sigh. still quite a lot of work to do, but at least that part is official.
i feel like a good chunk of me in indebted to certain people for helping work up my psyche enough to believe that this isn't entirely that far fetched of a journey. and i love you.

it also appears that im trying to land myself an au pair job, as i would live and travel for next to free if i did. problem being, chances are high im going to end up with illegal immigrant status and deported for life if such does in fact fall through, meaning i would be there longer than originally expected, as Visa obtaining past 3-4 months visit is not made extrodinarily accessable to outsiders.

luckily ive somehow (hate to attribute it to the facebook plauge) for my increased ability to network with these crazy norsemen, but it has been a huge help. Jónsi is trying to hook me up big time.

erm, well, thank you and goodnight.

everybody's looking for somebody's arms to fall into

2007-07-23T22:20:00.000-07:00

hae..,, !

j'aime les hiatuses.

sometimes a girl just needs a little TLC, downtime, and a significant cut-off of city slickin. Really, I want a bloody garden someday, okay? And with gardens there is usually a lot less bullshit like the mania which was out my front window for the entire week. don't get me wrong, i love spectacles, but, i also love hiatuses. currently, the latter trumps the former, and thus will hopefully prevail for some time yet and reinvent itself in new forms.

i make my return to the city streets that are covered with mounds of confetti and celebratory vomit, while i am celebrating the newly aqquired silence. yes, i am occasionally pre-maturely old, and besides, jazzfest was better.

in slightly daunting news, i have aqquired myself a line of credit (eep) which could quite possibily aid my ventures to the lava rock. all i need is someone to live with me, or, something along these lines. i feel it may just be significantly easier finding housing once im there, as the interweb is proving itself to be crep!

in slightly enlightening news, i decided to give those crazy shits over there a call and give them hell for their utter lack of student affairs information assistants doding on my every concern in a basement office for 8 hours everyday. ahem. no i did not reach the faculty, as the university is closed for the summer ... (????) ..slacking bastards... but i DID talk with a janitor who was nice enough to pick up the phone. he proceeded to tell me in the thickest of accents that no ones around and that he certainly hopes i can come visit them in their "beautful country."

well, ... DER!

most correspondance ive received in months!, years even....

again with the utmost pending nature of everything.

ah vell.

here's what a hiatus looks something like in front of a lens:

hanging with the girls (and not just my breasts.)

shane loves it almost too much.

complete with a ride to Bville return of the mack style.

be my lady.

almost forgot....

2007-07-23T19:16:00.000-07:00

how much i love bikes... and velo promotion, and one-less-car-ideologies (albeit my love for driving the STICK...that damn phallus) and do-it-yourself bike repair coops that bring out my grease monkey side, and generally just reclaiming the roads and feeling the bike rage deep within my blackened soul. did i mention i also love the CBC?

http://www.rideitforward.blogspot.com/

la voie libre!

there's a world outside your window

2007-07-14T17:41:00.000-07:00

but nobody for miles

e v e r y t h i n g is illuminated. no, really.

2007-07-10T20:43:00.000-07:00

beer and bonnets; a valley girl in training.

oppression neon green and blue pours in my window at this ungodly hour. again with les humouristes.

half-assed story time, told in totally half-assed narrative form because i am le tired. (welllll, have a nap)...

i got no brakes. everyday i be putting my life on the line just to get to work (and so the melodrama begins). so i think to myself, "hey linds, isnt it time you fixed your brakes?"

shit yes. and i had some extra bucks to spend/spoil myself on some life saving device that aids greatly when travelling down montreal hills.

so there's this right to move coop that offers technical bike servicing by volunteers at prices fit for those dwelling somewhere along the poverty line, so i go meet these fine people.

i love learning. i do. especially those transferrable life skills like knowing how to trew your wheels, change an axel, change the spokes, fix gears, and what have you. HOWEVER, i had no idea that this special bike coop was hoping i would activate these learning skills as i went.

i know, this is fairly anti-climactic, but bear with me. i spent the last 4 hours rebuilding my bike. yes, mmmeeee. and its not nearly as liberating as it sounds.

so it begins with the brakes. ... i just want brakes. i dont care if their the front or the back, just one or the other, just brakes.

next thing i know, my bike is in peices, and im crying in my inside pants.

"hey, uhm, help a bitch out?"

i was the last person to leave this damn coop.

needless to say, my story telling via text is experiencing some lack, due to my inability to convey the facial/hand expressions that best fit my rage and disbelief for 4 hours.

$5.34 and two anti-car stickers later, im free, and apparently still alive despite being certain that it would all end up in a pile of rubble before i could make it home to the neon lights.

oh, and buddy bought me a chocolate milk, because he could see right through my bike-angst.

to top it all off, there's 4 guys left and me, as we all try to pull together a greasy masterpeice, and im talking about something and it slipped out, the Lanark twang, or, well, some bloody dialect ive aqquired somewhere along the way.

"heyyy, that sounded kinda, .....Southern....?"
"no no, she's a VALLEY girl."

OOHHHH RIGGHHT. yeah, that's it. BINGO . good god.

when you find your servant is your master

2007-07-09T16:29:00.000-07:00

shan.

uh, wuuut? riiiight.

i LOVE getting random phone calls at night from the (613). don't ever, ever cease with your utmost grandeur.

been dying since 22 hours ago. im okey now, thanks for asking. resurrection is a fine thing.

juste pour rire commence ce soir, et je pret pour les crazy shithouse rats and according antics. something about quebecois and les humouristes, i just dont know. maybe i'll find out and let you know. I will also have some pictures to prove it soon too ... ... (dies in bliss)

rosé for long time.

also, (always also) these are the most recent pictures i've received from my cousin whom i havent seen in some time. last time i saw him, he was a wee bot, although he is almost 19 (?????????). this kinda stirs me a wee bit, as he is headed to Afghanistan in March. Again with the stir-age.

EUGH. and what the fuck is that ? ^

cause Lennon's on sale again.

face up

2007-07-08T14:31:00.000-07:00

I'm in a groove now Or is it a rut I need some feedback But all the lines are cut I get so angry, but I keep my mouth shut And turn it up You get all squeezed up inside Like the days were carved in stone You get all wired up inside And it's bad to be alone

Mostly i feel pretty emptied out and hallow on Sundays, although, of course, this is not limited to Sunday's.

When i stick around myself too long things get off track. Don't ever give me too much time to do anything as I will simply regress.

also, - 30-something couples with thick-movie-like new york accents whom i lead in the wrong direction only to end up with an even potentially sketchier situation is probably not the worst thing one can do. when simple things turn incredibly backwards is my favourite game.

also, again, where is everybody? i feel i will be asking this til the end of time. i stand firm in a big fuck you to everyone who deserves it, and that's alot of people. that'll pass.

i suppose i should be happy that a) i dont have a dead husband, and b) that he didnt come back to kill a new boyfriend on my couch while i crept out to get groceries, and have to go through all the hassle of steam cleaning the damn couch. true story. friend of a friend of mine.

when will you LEARN? life is lone-ly.

the dirtiest clean i know

2007-07-06T07:16:00.000-07:00

In the clock's over-loud ticking we hear the mockery of light-years for the span of our existence

keeping inline with having an extrodinary amount of free time on my hands (true and false, as, i suppose that's entirely a mindframe of sorts) i find myself coming across some damn sweet blogs.

i would make a fine professional stalker, or, as Etana stated yesterday, an advisor! Yep. I agree. but i don't know how that would aid my love for creeping.

there's this blog they've made into a book, which is available on amazon, which is composed entirely of postcards with secrets on them that people send in from all over the world.

also, my street, the lovely and ever-dodgy Rue Ontario is taking on human like attributes, ....... yes, it's coming alive. With both exceeding numbers of people and lights and towers and no parking, its slowly transforming into a better, more classy (if that's possible) version of st.catherines. with my luck, which isn't much, i will have a camera soon to prove this phenomenon of lights and carrying-on-ness, as well as my underslept little eyeballs as proof of the noise. (dont worry, i love it, for the time being).

also, please watch Scorsese's After Hours, if you know what's good for you - as it is one damn fine and underated classic. ^

POSTSECRET:

meeeee too.

i got no look in it left

2007-07-03T17:10:00.000-07:00

us folks we like point form, just like those management students.

- nanny extrordinaire-ing, when in real reality we know i am a hugely bad person (hey kids, let's watch "the pick of destiny"!)
-get spooned by a 5 year old, get up at 3:20am to make fruit juice to help ease the bad dreams and provoke cavities
-wake up at 4am and remove cat from your face, try to peel your eyes open despite severe allergic reaction, resume with harmless spooning, add one more kid.
-awake again at 5:03am when she comes home and passes out.
-get up at 7:20am and all-to0-willingly submit to drawing an extravagent farm yard of animals with a green crayon at Moyrah's request.
-make toast with nutella(tsk) x3 and shift outward towards the harsh daylight, feel extrodinarily hung over albeit no-boozing, find a cheap passport photo place, carry on.
-drink copious amounts of green tea with mint leaves and lemon and try to embrace reality, for my fetal love comes to town.
-drink, discuss legitiment legal matters with Mr. Nova Scotia, drink, and dance like you recently escaped rideau regional, lay on grass, watch it all fall out of foci. try sprite for a change.
-wake up, quickly daydream about the pleasures of urniating outdoors, sigh, get your shit together, feel strangely unhungover, hop a bus with your favorite lady and still strangely un-affected by post-cheap wine.

-quick replay: watch girl have her face too close to a dirty toilet bowl hugging its porcelain majesty, indulge in the utter ridiculousness of it all, repeat latter x4.

-skip past all the meaty stuff, remain forever vauge, and greet yourself with another sleep deprived evening.

-fast forward to basement un-reality, angry parents, 3 sets of funding applications finito, .59 cent burgers (wtf) and endure something too close to an Annie Hall moment, but replacing the spider with a rat.

-this is becoming seemingly un-point-form-esque.

-grow some balls, be the man, and take control of the situation (POOOOOOWEEEERRR, SINNAMAN)

-and run for home.

ALSO, one might love (as in, only me) THIS: and thus perpetuate the Cult of Paul

hokay, so.

2007-06-29T13:30:00.000-07:00

first things first:

i can't stop with the Boss.

It resonates pure childhood dancing for me,.. I'd like to thank maw and paw for previously implanting all this great music in my noggen at a young age; i can't imagine how differently I would feel about music if I wasn't able to go back to it years later and love it even more.
Eagles/Don Henley, Blue Rodeo, Rush, Dire Straits. -rolls around in music-

I was reading an article on the CBC about the summer single, and how music in the summer radiates with a this sense of collective enjoyment to be had by all, where in winter when we listen to music on our own it's an entirely different experience. der, i know, but i took this obvious peice of info and applied it to the Jazzfest, night one last night.

Because I am a cheap bastard, I am sans camera/pictures to prove the wild nature of these dancing beasts, but, jesus, you will have to take my exaggerating word on this one. I feel quite strongly that my favorite people on this planet are those few free birds who at concerts contagiously dance and carry on at the front of the stage, and end up slowly provoking the less puritans like myself to join in. This extremely skinny and muscle ridden woman wearing a full purple spandex outfit was outrageously animated and fun to watch. She would do these weird body contortions and pet the grass and bob around with this guy who LOVED his air guitar. It's when the masses form together like this that the true human condition arises.

In short, ..I, I, do love it. What's almost better is people who smoke you up in the crowd. What am i talking about? That shit's illegal.

more or less nothing at all

2007-06-27T10:00:00.003-07:00

"life is hell" - wall artwork in Reykjavik. double-you-tee-eff? this certainly wouldn't fly in say, oh,.. USA?

she seems to have the hang of it.

in similiar new finds, buddy Frank here has found a new friend in me. This music is much too pleasing for my otherwise unproductive day. I've given up on paper work for all time, as in, for another day. It convinces me that I'm running in circles. Why won't you just let me come play with you's there and not reap havoc on my ill ability to sift through countless papers,.. hmmm?????

the end. more sangria please.

2007-06-26T15:41:00.000-07:00

sometimes I wake up
and it's already night

i still get that stunned look on my face when the moment calls for such.

ive been dreaming of alienation. figuratively, it looks something kind of like this:

this is as close as i can get color wise, and feeling wise. i know it probably doesnt say much to you, but i dream in color and this is what i get. im pre-preparing for things again likely. no more listening to cocteau twins before bed, and perpetually wondering where everbody is. its not a lonely state of subconscious as much as it is terribly uncertain. dear lindsay, stop being bloody emo and dreaming in god damn metaphors; despite the visually enchanting images i seem to receive. reminds me of the last dream that was as equally hyperbolic as the hidden elavator in the arts building that i discovered which led to a lush green roof with an adult size super-colored playground (denoting, indubitably, the bigger picture of life after mcgill, ha).

oh baby just you shut your mouth.

cuddle up little angel cuddle up little dove

2007-06-25T16:59:00.000-07:00

remember when life looked like this ? good god. if i had the balls that ive always wanted, they'd be sweating right the eff off me right now. hence why swimming on the roof of a building for all the higher buildings to enact their watchful gaze upon thy pasty flesh is always an interesting time.

annnd i take it back. new-neighbour-buddy is walking anomaly.

im coming up to the apartment, and he's fucking spray painting the only god damn recycling container ive seen in WEEKS, yellow. (i have a creeping suspicion someone has been doing away with these sustainability boxes on wheels as to perhaps further provoke the global warming conspiracy theory, as i have not seen one in site as of spring). i suppose that is almost besides the point, but, anyways, here he is, with a huge one on wheels, with the wheels tapped and covered off, as it makes its apparent transformation into a keg on wheels. now, i know montreal is pretty damn lenient regarding booze and festivals, but what the hell buddy think's gonna happen after he plants an oversized Heineken umbrella on the side and fills it with ice and a keg and rolls it around quartier latin? Certainly the city, whom im supposing has rights over this damn box on wheels, won't notice him carting it around, albeit its new camouflaging? must be from New Brunswick.

and, jesus, where is old buddy? oh, right, the uncreative humping has permanently relocated itself to the outskirts of NDG. Alas? Not exactly. I already miss the spicy food and the subtle reminders of my raging anglo-esque-ness.

still no money in sight, which is becoming seemingly problematic due to jazz festivites beginning too soon. fear not, i will find a way. like YOU care. i need me some more HOOKUPS.

in less erattica news, camping and eating this weekend was prime ..... (!!!!!) something about a certain family feeding me til my guts nearly explode, in the most loving way possible of course. twas also a nice surprise to escape the heat of the quebecois nationalism this weekend.

back to the basement tomorrow. see you in hell, bitches.

few trees, just lava fields covered with velvety green moss

2007-06-20T18:49:00.000-07:00

i don't know what seems more daunting, the absolute lack of trees, (welcome agoraphobia into your life ) or how the school buildings/residents look. Keeping inline with the ambiguity i promised (and bad grammer) things have recently taken a slight turn in direction.

but seriously now, enough with the insanity.,
www.hi.is
somebody somewhere along the line felt inclined enough to grant me the permission to come dwell with contemporary norse men! FANCY that.

now for discovering a bounty of money and it just might fall through.

annnnnd:
easy as pie

i'm a liar. and i must be out to lunch again.

Icelandic Studies for Foreign Students Building. foreign? alien? me? hopefully always.

i promise to be significantly less dodgy next time, loves.

I leave you with Adorno porno:

"Dwelling, in the proper sense, is now impossible. The traditional residences we grew up in have grown intolerable: each trait of comfort in them is paid for with a betrayal of knowledge, each vestige of shelter with the musty pact of family interests....The house is past...it is part of morality not to be at home in one's home."

sugary hell

2007-06-14T21:21:00.000-07:00

why must i tend to attract the a) the homeless harmonica players who insist on serenading me, or b) black doods. im not doubting both groups are equally spectacular, but.... ..... !!!!!!

there certainly was NOT an open bar dans st.laurent tonight, and apparently not that many people were cluing in that such a non-existent entity was in fact free. i must have been purified somewhere along the way, as my belly is loathing me right now. buddy kept giving me a strange eye, the kinda eye that says "dont you have to get up at 7am?" some other day i will learn.

in finer news, i plan to run away and join the afro-brazilian percussion band. good god, why the pseudo intellectualism when life's happiness lies in engaging with your heart full of soul.

my budgeting skills appear to be warp into extremely accurate figures when im grocery shopping while under the open-bar influence, two banannas, two oranges and one tub of yogurt for exactly $5? who am i?

///// ................................ shannon, !

i feel that selling cigarettes to students in the 1930's to raise money for a GYMNASIUM seems just about an appropriate enough of shadyness for one whole eon.
ooo what classy packaging, do they come in menthol?

thunderspank is NOT thunderlighting

2007-06-13T18:09:00.000-07:00

i feel like i could dedicate alot of time talking about my lust for rice krispie squares, but, i almost shouldn't go there. currently my biggest problem in life is getting the marshmallow to crisp rice ratio equalized.. (i lie im an amazing krispie queen).

so, buddy who sits a building over and upstairs from me at work happens to be an office whore much like myself (although im beginning to wonder how much i actually qualify as an office-ite considering i am sans cubicle/desk/bear calender) but, thats an aside.

buddys name is matt goldberg, (duck suit attire) and he lives a double life: daytime office mite, 5oclock and beyond: improv for UnCalled For. My favorite Polish advisor insisted that i check them out, and being diligent, i diiid, and ...

they pwned me hard. i'll admit i was a little worried at first - improv tends to only be successful when you see those fancy pants on Whos Line is It Anyways and that such, and will likely otherwise place the audience in an ankward postion but, they did not disappoint, even upon breaking down the 4th wall with some good audience interaction...

in all, mr. goldberg and friends have a pretty solid show, which carried me partway back to dayz of highschool dramatizing it up, and how much improv was really the only facet i couldnt hack..... with any charm anyways ;)

pretty spicy indeed. these people clearly have too much fun for their own damn good.

http://www.uncalledforimprov.com/

films that challenges life's realism

2007-06-12T18:42:00.000-07:00

so, then i was like -

Ive seen some amazing films these past few months (after slipping back into Dennis Hopper ville) and decided I'd give a very short, and i mean, brief, horrendous, un-cultural studies analysis rundown of why they rool. This should provoke a mass viewing on your part, good sir/madame.

Stranger Than Paradise - Jim Jarmusch
the same buddy who made Coffee and Cigarettes (sweet scene between Iggy Pop and Tom Waits, of all bloody people!). For genre sake I guess its a black comedy by most standards. Ultimately, its very minimalistic cinematography, vacant characters who simeltaneously seem to harbour alot of, well, character. !

Barton Fink - Cohen Brothers

John Turturro and John Goodman's characters really compliment each other in this movie. Although you have your prototype of a "neurotic jew" writer whos landed himself less than willingly in L.A, its far from cliche in its representation of the characters unmotivated actions which result in some pretty eerie and interesting ending, and the in-out of dream state aids its subtle ambiguity . (! -- )

Manhattan - Woody Allen
Luckily this turned out to be as good in most respects as Annie Hall, and nothing at all like Everything You wanted to know about sex but were afraid to Ask, cuz, dizzam, that was a ballcracker of a movie, whatever the fuck that means. Our Jewish buddy keeps his love for New York blantantly intact by representing relationships against the urban backdrop of impossibility! And he's too cute. Interstellar perversion ahead!

Short Cuts - Robert Altman
Saying anything too far reaching about this fucking crazy god damn movie might insight some serious debate, so, all i will say is, it moves along the lines of (3 hours worth) of the human condition as extremelyyyy unstable, and if anything, very much intune with nature and its slow decline as well. Humans + nature = leave you feeling likely quite uncomfortable, or wondering, okay, .. but WHYYYY?? Based on Raymond Carver short stories, Altman manges to intertwine everyones screwy shit into one ball of sheer ambiguity (because clearly thats what Altman does best, choose your own interpretation and run with it, then, come running back confused as hell)

Inland Empire - David Lynch
just see it, for the love of god. trying to create a glimpse of coherence of this movie is just as futile as trying to make sense of his short films that he made in film school , - you'll be working against the current hardcore. just indulge yourself while your ass flattens itself out (3 hours later) and try to take it all in. if the quick mis-en-scenes are too much, you always have the wonderful music to fall back on (much of which Lynch scores himself, beautifully so). Psychologically a twisting movie; likely a comment on Hollywood and the film industry, and the most RANDOM of scenes, like these bitches hauntingly dancing to the loco motion while laura dern has a bit of a breakdown. C'est bon... ;)

please note as an utmost postscript, that i fully intended for those images to land themselves in a nice mish-mash and not to align themselves prettily alongside their comments.

"That's why the system works. Because I am the system."

2007-06-12T18:08:00.000-07:00

i suppose this is a poor attempt at re-living the days of deadjournal via zee blogger format. therefore, the range of what appears in here will likely be quite limited to less than witty bullshit carrying-on (YOUR favorite). i will try and spice that up (unlikely).

long, heat ridden days spent in a concrete basement (excellent dwelling during my hallucinated intruder protcols) lead me to believe that whatever part of my brain that was functioning before they extracted 4 teeth from my head is long gonzo now. everything kinda just dwindled downwards after my love/hate relationship with the percocets ended. wow, dramatica! really though, i havent had any major thought processes since mid-May, and now here i am talking to myself. (im a good gut spiller if you give me the time).

perhaps this isnt the place for such?

back to hanging out in the basement though. REALLY? $8.66/h to try and keep myself entertained for 8 hours? of course this also includes understanding for the first time office culture (lack thereof) and discussing med school options with keener bastards.

im finding bukowski's "post office" a compassionate read of honesty and zero pretention, just guts. !! i loveeee gutssssss.

something insightful you say? bloggerific? je suis toast. try me again in september.

meanwhile, the haunting, and now omnipresent imagery of Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet inhaling nitrous oxcide will consume the better part of my inactive brain for LIFE.

HIT MEEEEE

testing, un, deux. .

2007-06-11T16:24:00.000-07:00

bleach !!!!!!