Ramblings of a TRAIN JOURNEY, and ALEXANDER McQUEEN.

Today I had to get a 2 hour 50 minute train journey to kill, so armed with the latest Vogue (February 2011- absolutely amazing.  For those of you who haven't bought it, or who aren't habitual readers, it's well worth the €5.  I'm talking.. Christopher Kane interviewed by Alexa Chung, interview with Sarah Burton for Alexander McQueen, Warpaint..) and my iPod, I sat and waited to be taken back to Dublin.

So, firstly I was thinking about outfit posts.  Outfit posts, I think you'll all agree, are amongst the finer aspects of the blogosphere.    They interest and inspire in equal measure and are definitely amusing to compile.  As well as being the best, however, I find that they tend to be the most difficult to organise, and the hardest to actually get around to doing on a regular basis, as I usually have to cajole either my boyfriend or little brother into playing photographer.  It is for these reasons, and of course the fact that I was lucky enough to befriend an amazingly talented blogger (the fabulous Anna O' Shea of Style Girl) when I entered college, that Anna and I have decided to team up in an attempt to provide our readers with more frequent outfit posts, by working on them together.  It can only go uphill from here!  Watch this space.

**********

With the harsh realisation that Winter is coming to an end (I know it's odd that Winter is probably my favourite season), I think that I should probably start focusing on Spring, and my acceptance of its arrival- at least I like flowers..

In other news..

ALEXANDER McQUEEN;

SS/11 dresses, anyone?

I absolutely love Alexander McQueen.  Always have, probably always will.  This season's line is no exception- the debut line entirely by Sarah Burton, it's gorgeous.  Just look at these dresses!  I mean, everyone thought that the line would suffer after the tragic and unexpected death of Alexander 'Lee' McQueen, but Sarah Burton has truly stepped up to the plate, and the Spring/Summer 2011 collection could scarcely be more impressive- love it.

Strange Days Lead to Strange Nights

I return -- the last crush of final assignments and panic-inducing sales conferences are finito, and I am free until January. But, last night. Oh, last night..... I can't quit you.

And by "quit you," I mean I cannot process just how events spun so off track.

Original Plans:

• Attend the last overview course, learn about scholarly publishing.
• Meet-up with all the kids from our program at 8 PM, and attend Ship Sharp's fundraising event at The Boat.

Straight-forward, right? The process was A-->B-->C, and then home again.

But no. No, no. I realize now just how much 2010 is not the Year of the Moffatt.

The Real Events:

• Drove 40 minutes to Kipling subway station to allow for a later night out. Started strolling to the underground path when I realized: Where are my keys? Imagine me pawing the window, staring at the keys nestled in the front seat cup holders.
• Called Mom so she could drive the back-up keys over. I did mention I was 40 minutes from home, right? And that I couldn't leave the car alone since the keys were so visible? And it was about -5C at that point? Did I also mention Mom has never been to the Kipling Station before? And that there are no clear signs indicating where the Kipling Station is? Did I also mention I suck at giving directions? Yep.

• Arrived downtown ten minutes late for class. Booked it across Yonge-Dundas Square where I wiped out on the pavement. And I mean wiped out. As in, four people were around me in four seconds helping me up and asking, "OHMYGOD, are you okay?!" My knee is swollen this morning.

• Ran into A and B, two girls from the program. Turns out our lecture was moved to another building, despite the fact that all night courses take place in ONE building only. None of us knew where the other room was, and a security guard offered the most confusing directions imaginable. Translation: Class is cancelled.
• Ran into K, who was also confused over the sign, but arrived later than the original group had. Decided to go to B's house to hang out before The Boat.
• Had an awesome time at B's for a few hours. Played the most cerebral version of Kings ever. Also discussed: party subs, December birthdays, how much older I am than everyone else even though I don't look it (yaaay!), how wild K's family is, how straight-laced mine is, plans for our publishing careers.

• 9 PM. B's friends still hadn't arrived. S texted B, told her he was heading out soon. Beer cut through rising nervousness, at least for a short while.
• 10 PM. B's friends arrived. No one but the publishing kids wanted to leave.
• 10:30 PM. Still trying to corral people who were at various stages of drinking/creeping sobriety. S arrived at The Boat with no one else from our program there.
• 11 PM. Managed to get people on the street. K and I were sober, everyone else was not quite. B tried to direct a crowd wandering in at least three different directions at once.
• 11:30 PM. Realized the people who said they were going to stop in at Pizza Pizza to pick up a slice were gone for 20 minutes. They sat down to eat. We were all waiting outside. Did I mention we were still on Front St. at this point? And The Boat is in Kensingtion Market area? Check out the interactive map --> here. Also, the Dundas St. W. streetcar had gone off the tracks earlier in the afternoon to add to the confusion.

• 11:45 PM. K and I split off from the group. K was exhausted, had to work the next morning at 8 AM. I had steadily lost hope for the second half of the night.
• 12:00 AM. Arrived at St. Patrick Station. Could not orient myself to the map. Realized if I made it to The Boat, I would just have to turn around to make sure I got back to Kipling Station before the trains stopped at 1:30 AM.
• 12:30 AM. Back at Kipling Station, defeated. Read a text from The Advocate asking about my whereabouts. Felt very cinematic at this point, surreal.
• 1 AM. Back home, icing my knee. Wondering how this would have looked as a bizarre, arts hauz film. Collapsed in bed.

***

In a nutshell, it was a strange night. I don't often experience strange nights like that. I felt disoriented, and not on account of the beer, either.

I had a three-hour window where the world was right.

We were all sitting around, sipping drinks, talking arrogant about the future. I was in a good place, mingling with new people who were interested in attaining the same goals as me. And the thought of connecting this new network with the established network of people from high school felt right. I was buzzing at the prospect of one artistic crowd blending with another. I'd been talking about The Boat all week, and the ladies were excited to get there and dancedancedance.

And then I watched the night unravel. I felt removed from it, oddly. I was watching the beer pounded back, I was watching the clock ticking forward, I was watching the red-and-green CN Tower lit up from B's window -- the whole scene was like a glass floor cracking under foot. I traced the lines out, and knew there wasn't a single thing I could do to stop it.

And then I knew 2011 has to be different. In all possible senses, it has to be.

NaBloPo--NO!!

NO. Nonononono -- I was in bed at 12:10 AM when it hit me:

I MISSED A POST.

I MISSED A POST FOR NABLOPOMO.

.... and then I rolled over and went to sleep.

***

Serious, though -- I was so close to creating content every day this November. But, the absence last night is nothing for me to cry over. I spent the evening in Toronto with two of the three gents I lived with while I was working on my undergrad. One, I have not seen in close to a year; the other lives in Bermuda, and I have not seen him since his graduation day in June 2008. So, um, I think it was a far better evening as a result. I never thought I'd see the day where we would be sitting around reminiscing about those undergraduate years. I suppose that's how it was with high school, too -- when you start realizing how much you pour over the details of those younger years, you understand just how much the world around you has changed even if your own character/perspectives have remained the same.

It also made me realize how much more I need to get out and find adventure. The last few months have been quiet ones despite the fact I am back in school. I'm quite still, and I need to shake up the world a bit. Hmm... much to mull over.

I am thinking I ought to write a deluge of posts to make up for the rather weak content in the past seven days. Maybe that could count toward NaBloPoMo? Hmm?

Transmission from Toronto's Pride Weekend

PRIDE WEEKEND -- I am still recovering from this past weekend. It was a blur of rainbows, sweat, bass-laden music, and delicious Canadian queers and allies en masse. Church Street overflowed with couples, singles, and families of all varieties braving the fierce heat to bask in another glorious year of being out and damn proud.

2010 Pride is a memorable one for me, I admit. It marks the first time I have attended as an out woman which alters the entire landscape of the event. Even though I still have work ahead of me when it comes to integrating myself into the community, I know I can do it with the support of immediate family members and close friends at hand. Ah, revelations mingled with searing summer heat -- quite the way to usher in the season, I believe.

And, in usual Moffatt fashion, I turn to lists for the rundown:

Saturday, July 3/10

• Daytime hours: Not enough queer. In Toronto, Saturday Pride = Dyke March and all associated woman-centric events. Alas, I was without a companion to traverse the gorgeous grounds of the women-exclusive parties. Never fear, though -- much eye candy was to be had that night.
• Ship Sharp, The Advocate, and I dashed out to Toronto to see if we could catch the FREE Cyndi Lauper concert at Queen's Park. WHOA. What a line. The vendors were even fenced off to prevent a rush on the stage. The line circled all of Queen's Park. And no, that is not an exaggeration.
• Mad flurry of friend sightings from high school and beyond. Even encountered the one other queer girl from my year in secondary school -- it was fun to share one of those knowing glances with someone from the past.
• Headed over to Church Street with a mission in mind -- Ship Sharp was on-the-clock for work and scouting out some buff gentlemen for a popular CBC show. She and The Advocate scanned the crowd for biceps, I was distracted with the dense ratio of queer girls to all other groups in some areas. *Commence immature giggling at the wonder therein*
• Walked the length of Church Street, occasionally stopping for impromptu dance parties spilling out into the streets. Spotted a Japanese restaurant/bar I will need to hit up in the future.
• Marveled at the openness and excitement in all Pride revelers and the ease with which strangers can become fast friends. Ah, Pride -- it has such potential to bring out the best in us, even while it tends to encourage the unpredictable TNT (Totally Naked Toronto) men.

Sunday, July 4th/10

• MIZ MOFFATT ATTENDS HER FIRST MAIN PRIDE PARADE! ... She also wilted in the 35C weather. I even caved to wearing shorts. I have not worn shorts for about a decade prior to this past Sunday. It was serious.
• Gigantic step forward: Attended Pride with The Sister. And she was the one to suggest it. I even got to openly discuss Pride plans with the entire Moffatt clan. It was so surreal at times. Given the fact I came out to Lil' Brother and the parents last July/August, I found myself buzzing with such confidence and self-assurance.
• Also attended Pride with The Advocate! Again, I reeled with such excitement throughout this weekend. She is a proven Pride veteran and it was stunning to have her at my side for what would prove to be a landmark Pride weekend for me on numerous levels.
• ENTER: THE PARADE. Ah, the roar of the Dykes on Bikes is such a momentous start to a parade of this nature. Ha, and having the police encouraging the crowds to douse all officers on site with water to stave off the heat was a fun addition to the day. Such an about face from the destructive forces of last weekend's G8/G20 Summit -- the officers on duty carried rainbow flags, donned bright beaded necklaces, and were all a-glow with the energy of Pride. Serious, it is mind-blowing to witness.
• Found myself getting misty-eyed when PFLAG marched past. I imagine most queer kids experience that press of pride to see those parents walk past in full support of their children.
• Highlight: An EMS driver blaring the Spice Girls' "Stop" from his truck and tackling the pre-set dance moves as he drove. Brilliant.
• I quite appreciated the drag queen who dressed in royal regalia to honour Queen Elizabeth II's visit to Toronto (it coincided with the main Pride Parade). We joked about her being a "Queen among queens" for the weekend.
• No parade is complete without bagpipers. But queer bagpipers? Even more perfect.
• I also love the fact that two leaders of Canada's federal political parties manage to make appearances at Pride Toronto regularly. Jack Layton of the NDP donned a bright pink shirt and compiled an energetic, bright orange sea of dancers to celebrate. And, Elizabeth May of the Green Party rode her way through the parade on a rickshaw with a drag queen. God, I love Canada.
• The Sister, The Advocate, and I got to be all heroic-like for a girl who almost passed out in front of us. Like I said, the heat was raging that afternoon. The kids in front of us needed more water in them, methinks. Of course, The Sister came prepared with hand towels and tons of water while The Advocate knew where to douse the poor girl in order to cut the heat. We had a whole pocket of civilian medics leap in to help her out.
• After that point, the heat took hold and forced our group out of the parade lines. Serious, we were all flushed and exhausted after about an hour and a half of direct sun exposure. We relocated to a bit of shade on a side street, but the heat was unrelenting. We called it an early day to avoid passing out like that girl did in front of us.

***

EPIC. It's a shame we were forced from the street due to the intense sunlight. The UV index was a perfect 10 and sipping on hot water from plastic bottles was making the three of us a touch sickly. I also discovered The Sister must have been a camel in a past life -- she downed two and a half Gatorades and about three bottles of water in the couple of hours we were at the Parade. I had one bottle of water, The Advocate had two.

Intense.

All in all, I was pleased with the course the weekend took. Had the heat been cut in half, you best believe I would have been at those barricades until the Parade closed. I realize I still have quite a bit of work to go when it comes to developing connections within the community, but, sometimes, you just need to relax and let the clubbing beats take you in.

Tomes to Travel Through with Miz Moffatt

Lo, the crush of recent experience leads to an epic collection of stories from the city and stories from the suburbs to divulge. I chose the image of archaic tomes for a reason -- the narrative for the past week can only be measured against the thick, dense ramblings of weighted texts.

In a nutshell: OH dear goodness, I have crammed a whole lot of life into a meagre span of time.

Hence, point form updates will be called upon to breeze through these stories for posterity's sake:

Thursday, June 17/10

• Booked it into Toronto post-work to catch Ship Sharp's latest directorial project. She took the helm of the Fly By Night (FBN) Theatre Company's performance of Dog Sees God at Lorraine Kimsa Theatre for Young People (165 Front Street). The verdict: AMAZING (as per usual). Perfect casting, compelling performances from all cast members, and clever choices made by Ship Sharp herself. The Advocate and I shared a giggle over the mannerisms this cast adopted from Ship Sharp -- also amused over the random "Bad Romance" outbreak that shared eerie similarities to our own group's tendencies....
• Fell in love with city life all over again, even in the presence of the infamous G8/G20 fence marring the front steps of Union Station. Dazzled with street lights, pulsing with the lives around me -- I belong there. I decree it now.

Friday, June 18/10

• First off: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, O'NEILL! Cheers to another brilliant year for a brooding gentleman.
• Accompanied The Advocate to the graduation party of her close friend/fellow Pilgrim. Headed out to Moxie's for a night of carousing and catching-up. Broke out into songs from the Simpsons more than once, discussed manga and/or violent anime more than once, too. Devoured a massive, knee-weakening, and delicious plate of nachos with The Advocate. Alas, no beer and breakfast, though cheese-smothered chips are a close favourite as well. Called it an early evening to prepare for a Toronto-based adventure to RULE THEM ALL.

Saturday, June 19/10

• Started with two plans in mind: Visit the Toronto Small Press Book Fair at The Great Hall (1087 Queen St. West) and find a black dress for The Advocate in time for next week's alumni chamber choir performance. All other activities and adventures were ours to choose.
• First off: The Advocate and I + Gorgeous, old building + Ample selections of zines, chapbooks, and other indie lit = COMBO FOR EXCESSIVE, EXCITABLE COMBUSTION. We talked with each vendor, poured over their work, and made the difficult decision to limit our purchases (as best as possible, of course). Imagine it: local writers and small presses selling their work for an average of $10 or less. Hot discoveries include: a how-to guide for zine-making, a first collection of poetry by an author who has all but fallen off the face of the Earth (according to her press), and an alternative version of Toronto where a housing market crash creates a city ruled by warring factions of artists. INTENSE.
• With the sun splitting the clouds and a warm afternoon in front of us, The Advocate and I decided to walk the entire stretch of Queen St. West to Younge St. Yes. We were that giddy on Saturday. And oh, what adventures we found.
• Surprised a high school friend at his current job. "Excuse me, would you happen to have Labyrinth in?" Ah, it was such a perfect and genuine reaction of surprise. I love that our high school created such long-lasting bonds between us all. Also: Need to get our grade 11 flick, Sickle Hand, up on YouTube. Serious. I would link to it from here.
• Stumbled across Nadege Patisserie (780 Queen St. W.) for lunch. Our noses led us to a gorgeous selection of gourmet treats, colourful macaroons, and lavish sandwiches to pine after. I opted for a grilled veggie sandwich with brie and pesto while The Advocate selected a delicate, posh ham sandwich. Nadege has a cool, Parisian atmosphere with an attentive and relaxed staff. With their treats lit under glass cases, it felt like gazing in on jewelry. We ate al fresco at Trinity-Bellwoods Park and pondered over the contestants of an Amazing Race-style activity (partners were helping one another cross a tight-rope...?)

• It was a crush of images all after that: Sanko Japanese Market (730 Queen St. West) with the delicious, Kirin iced tea I first had while visiting a friend in Japan; discovering the Red Tea Box (696 Queen St. West) with a Mad Hatter's selection of treats (all poised for a future trek into the city); a random storefront with half-naked women dancing in the windows (though I believe I know what the "store" was about); accidentally stumbled through a crowd in front of Much Music, all awaiting the presence of *Shudder* Justin Bieber *Shudder, shudder*; Laughed over the oddities found in stores catering to the antiques crowd (so many mannequins, so many gaudy and matching lamps); Popped into the Silver Snail (367 Queen St. W.) to take a quick spin through the manga section.
• We trekked through stand-alone stores and through the Eaton's Centre to find a black dress to fit the strict guidelines of The Advocate's chamber choir ensemble. Esprit holds the key, it appears. Also caught sight of the Silver Elvis doing his thing in front of the mall's entrance.

• Once at Younge Street, we parted ways for the evening. I made it to Union station with moments to spare before the GO Train doors slid closed on another Toronto trek. Ah, that city. I need to roam its streets more often. I know I've missed out on detailing all these moments from Saturday, but, seriously, we took in a LOT of the scene. We covered a 4 KM stretch of the downtown core and managed to find material for, oh.... at least four future trips to Toronto. Case and point: we need to move downtown. Ah, I felt so sparkly and amazing all night. This is definitely something we will need to do again.

Sunday, June 20/10

• More celebrations to be had: Lil' brother turned 21 (staggering -- I feel so ancient by proxy, now) and also high-fived Dad for Father's Day. Spent the morning running a few small trips to get food-based gifts for the menfolk and reveling in the gorgeous weather.
• Went to the local, suburban mall to find a new tea store opened just on Saturday. As a self-professed tea loon, I was thrilled with the new proximity to premium loose leaf. But, the kicker? Apparently you must be an incredibly attractive woman to work there. I am so returning to this store as soon as possible. Readers: If I know you personally, I am stating now that I will drag you to this location once you are in my grasp. Serious, mark the calendar.
• Spent the afternoon in full relaxation mode, revolving the idea of a zine or a more professional, self-published work through my mind. I think the world needs more confessional sci fi, don't you?

Monday, June 21/10

• Work = Tedious, maddening, exhausting. Dreamt of writing and publishing for the entire shift, imagined what a future surrounded by the arts and with other writers would look like. Yes, I had a head full of dreams with me.
• Instant uplift: O'Neill called. Launched into another of our epic, catch-up phone conversations. I find it amusing how blunt we can be, especially when it comes to queer topics. Or, perhaps "candid" is the more posh-sounding term. In either case, I think we were both able to give voice to the stresses of our current situations and we even got some gossip in about idealized crushes and all the fun stuff. Fingers crossed that the kid can come visit this weekend -- there needs to be a personal summit with O'Neill, The Advocate, Ship Sharp and I. It'll be edgier and cooler than the hype surrounding the G8/G20 combined, just you wait.

Tuesday, June 22/10

• Met up with Ladies in Writing for another rousing night of self-penned stories, book reviews, political discussion, and goal-setting. I know, all that in two hours. Since our regular note-taker was absent, the group voted I take the minutes and send out the e-mail to the rest of the ladies who could not attend. Louise told me my writing is "outrageous," in the best possible way. More that I come out with twisted, amusing plots as opposed to offensive, disturbing content. Ha, I was over the moon with that one considering Louise is a brilliant writer herself.
• MUST. WRITE. MORE.

***

So, as I said, it's been a week where I out-hustled the bustle. I've hit the right stride in seven days and I want to hold on to it. With summer bursting down the doors, it is about time I get out there and explore with those nearest and dearest to me.

I can sense the adventure out there -- let's see how much I can capture in the next few weeks, shall we?

Closet Companions, or Secrets Behind the Rainbow

Queer gals vs. queer gents -- are we worlds apart or are we unbreakable allies?

Alpha Femme brought the discussion to the forefront with her post on the perplexing nature of lesbian/gay boy friendships and the hidden qualities of these alliances. She summed up the experience best with her recollection of her first Dyke March in 2006 where she witnessed a group of gay men "hanging out of windows, waving rainbow flags and hoisting banners that read ““FAGS <3 DYKES” and the like."

Why does an image like this inspire such pride and happiness because it seems to contradict an unspoken divide between us?

Where does the antagonistic depiction of queer women vs. queer men stem from?

Is it a fault we perpetuate within our own community, or is it a reductionist, societal representation ascribing character traits to us based on our same-sex attraction? Perhaps it's a touch of both.

I reflected on this same issue in an earlier post where I described the Next Generation of queer friendship epitomized under the moniker "Fag/Hag 2.0" -- it is the single term in existence at the moment to describe the connection I have to a dear, close friend of mine named O'Neill.

I am a queer woman, he is a queer man. We are best friends. We conquered the confines of the closet together, we took the first faltering steps into the local queer scene together, and we continue to turn to one another with a broad spectrum of issues and concerns unique to LGBT kids our age in Canada. While we share the same experiences of coming out, searching for a niche in the community, and learning how to find confidence as queer people in this world, we also have unique perspectives to share from a female frame of reference and a male context.

As a result, we often have outsiders misinterpret our connection with one another.

Our friendship ruffled enough feathers that the queer crowd at our school had to explain us -- we became the "bi-curious girl with the super-supportive straight boyfriend." Yes, dear reader -- the queer kids could only understand us through the frame of a heterosexual couple.

Is it such a shocking, unexplainable phenomenon that a gay woman and a gay man should relate to one another and support one another?

I understand how the idea of same-sex attraction might colour our views on queer friendships. If a girl is attracted to other girls, what would make her befriend a man (and vice versa)? It's as if our declaration as queer people renounces ALL connections to the opposite-sex, including friendship.

In a marginalized section of the populace, where on Earth do we get off discriminating against a potential friend based on their sex/gender? It baffles the mind.

It is about damn time we celebrate these connections and the strength derived from them. June is North America's official Pride month -- seems fitting we should call upon the queer kids to celebrate the similarities between the queer ladies and queer gents even while we respect and support the different perspectives of our closest companions.

Inside Out Film Festival: Shift Three and Four

Tonight's a time jump -- I came to the startling conclusion I neglected to post about the last couple shifts from May 29th with the Inside Out Film Festival.

*Shock and horror*

I cannot allow this to pass. And so, I invite readers to re-live this past Saturday and revel in a Wednesday weekend to boot.

***

Saturday, May 29, 2010

It was a rather posh affair as I relocated to various screening locations throughout Toronto. I made it a personal mission to volunteer at all the major host theatres for The Inside Out Film Festival and, lo -- it bottlenecked on one day. Nevertheless, it was a rush full of queer crowds and all-around cool kids.

The afternoon started off at the Royal Ontario Museum where I numbered among the front of house staff. I met a collective of fantastic volunteers and was whisked into the quiet conversation and cutting wit of all present. Ah -- at the major venues, volunteers are not invited into the film screenings. However, the lockout allowed me to mingle with the staff and talk with other folks dedicating their time to Canada's largest queer film festival. Quite a brilliant trade-off, if you ask me.

One girl was a self-published zine writer who went to the same university I did (we have some overlapping acquaintances as a result); our one representing guy just relocated to Toronto from Montreal and we almost had a major nerd meltdown after comparing notes on Doctor Who and our sharing out admiration for Russell T. Davies; and another girl was the founding member of a local knitting guild and focused her efforts on handcrafted items.

But, ooh -- no film festival is complete without a little panic. At 3 PM, the festival scheduled a multi-media lecture titled All The Young Dykes: Lesbians in Hollywood, 1990-2010. Film critic and Famous magazine deputy editor, Ingrid Randoja, was lined up to guide patrons through recent cinematic trends favouring portrayals of younger, queerer, and hotter on-screen women and how it has erased the presence of mature lesbians from film in general. It was designed as a fun-filled discussion, packed with images and clips, and it aimed to question the idea of a "youth movement" in modern representations of queer women -- alas, it also encountered severe technical difficulties. The lecture was meant to last an hour and the tech issues cut the presentation in half.

Yikes.

We were blessed with gorgeous weather and an animated ice cream truck driver nicknamed "Mister Softee," so the crowds flooding the ROM were in high spirits. You best believe we were the talk of the festival circuit what with the crisis we faced and I got to share stories from the front lines later on.

But oh, what an experience. I can't even consider it as "work," I had that much fun throughout the shift. With an adventurous high pulsing through me, I headed on over to Buddies in Bad Times to take in a film with one of the volunteer vouchers I've been stockpiling. There was a four hour gap between shifts, so I figured I'd wander over to the theatre to catch their 5 PM show. And girl, how glad I was to discover Saving Face (2004).

***

Saving Face (2004)

Winner of the Audience Award as the 2005 Inside Out Festival, Saving Face occupies a vital position in the collective consciousness of queer girls across North America. In terms of cinematic representations of lesbian lives, Saving Grace touches on the real issues of internalized homophobia and the pressure of familial expectations even as it allows its romantic leads to find love despite the odds.

It's classic rom com with a refreshing Sapphic note.

Wilhelmia 'Wil' Pan (Michelle Krusiec) is a taut thread stretched between two unmoving poles -- she is caught juggling a promising career as a surgeon and her responsibilities as a dutiful daughter even while she is expected to conceal her attraction to other women. She must endure the constant charades with her Ma (Joan Chen) and the endless stream of bachelors her Ma sets Wil up with.

Just as Wil settles into a monotonous and rhythmic existence, she meets Vivian Shing (Lynn Chen), a prima ballerina whose true desire to explore experimental dance threatens to overthrow the expectations placed on her by her own family. The women are pulled to one another through palpable desire, but Wil's internalized need to maintain appearances threatens to tear the couple apart.

Tensions between the old world's restrictive concepts of generational honour and North America's fluid and individualistic mentalities revolve around a real, beautiful tale of two women in love. It is breathtaking and gorgeous in its clarity and offers a change of pace from the typically tragic fare that marks queer cinema. If there is one film to define a genre of romantic comedies designed for queer women, this is it. It is universal in its appeal and it is delicate and humourous in its approach.

In a word, it is brilliant.

In four words, GO WATCH IT NOW.

***

That night, I headed over to The Isabel Bader Theatre to cover the last festival shift held at the venue. Hoo, talk about the crowds. The Isabel Bader functioned as the central headquarters for the entire film festival, hence, all the crowd favourites and big budget films rolled at this location.

How crowded was it, you ask?

We had at least five separate line-ups based on which ticket the patron held (a touch classist, I am aware) and, after the count I led, we came to about 450 viewers for the last film. Buddies in Bad Times pulled in a maximum of 80 viewers while the ROM tended to attract at least 100 audience members for the headliners.

Again, I was not privy to watch the films as I was needed for ticket processing and ballot counting. I met another energetic, boisterous group of volunteers and spent the evening in a haze of laughter and chat. I got the inside scoop on other Toronto-based film festivals and I might need to check out some of the other scenes in the near future. I will always feel most at home with Inside Out, but it could be fun to check out another event as well.

I had to kick myself later when I realized Saturday night marked a full evening of lesbian-based programming across the street at the ROM. I admit, I was calculated with the shifts I took -- I aimed to volunteer for lesbian films so I could connect with other queer girls in Toronto. When I signed up for the evening shift, I was at work and did not have the festival program with me. Regardless, the night was a glitzy one and I glided home with the buzz of volunteerism still fresh in the blood.

***

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Good gracious -- it was a sweet time to rest and compose myself. I'd been plotting to hit up Anime North this past weekend, but the heaviness throughout me would not dissipate. Based on the marathon volunteer session from the previous weekend, I thought I should ease up and relax a touch. I sat out on the deck with some white tea and chatted with the rents about various odds and ends and then hit up a local comic book store to check out their merchandise. Ha, alas, most of it had relocated to Anime North for the weekend. Confound. I plan to return soon to check out their titles then.

Meanwhile, The Advocate contacted me and invited me over for a long overdue Ladies Sunday Afternoon. Ship Sharp was already in attendance, however, a certain Moffatt girl was missing from the mix.

The ladies are lovely and we traded gossip from the past three weeks (I know, it was quite a lot to catch up on. I munched on popcorn and drank it all in). And, the ladies surprised me with some flawless birthday gifts for your truly. I realize once again I am a total nerd -- and I also realize I have awesome friends who encourage this behaviour. There was a Kate Beaton t-shirt, a collection of love poems to help me woo the ladies, manga editions of Shugo Chara and Ouran High School Host Club, and a book to help me make LISTS. Sweet honey marvel, I am in heaven.

We even rounded out the evening with a sushi dinner and later with a spot of pink champagne out in Ship Sharp's backyard.

I recommend that last bit for all those seeking a premium weekend experience.

***

So, there you have it -- the weekend on a Wednesday. I best sign off as I have been sitting for for at least an hour and a half now. I am that intense, I know.

Housewarming with an Accent of Drama

Remember a few months ago how I had that awkward Facebook run-in with a friend of a friend? Where she thought I was hitting on her when I was just looking to meet other ladies to hit the lady-lovin' scene with? Remember how I learned clarification = being an adult?

Well. Said friend had a housewarming get-together last night.

I met this girl.

... And the awkwardness of the moment was so stunning it almost circled back to being refreshing.

But the kicker? ...... I was the non-awkward one. Yeah. Despite her initial misinterpretation of me and my intentions, I was calm. I mean, I didn't waltz up to her and introduce myself -- Kyle C. was clever and lured her into the kitchen with the promise of a fresh drink while Ship Sharp and I happened to be chatting there. When I shook hands with her, I was almost tempted to say I was "that creeper from Facebook," but the look pulsing in her eyes let me know she knew exactly who I was.

It's unfortunate to see a potential friendship fizzle out before it even has the chance to grow, though. Under different circumstances, I bet we would have hit it off and impressed quite a few foxy femmes across Toronto's queer scene. Alas, such is the fickleness of online introductions.

And Ship Sharp can vouch for me that I handled the situation in a cool, adult sort of way. A+, Moffatt girl.

As for the housewarming, it was delightful. The Kyles have a gorgeous new condo just on the fringes of the downtown core. Pure posh, those lads are. The gents were flooded with a whole new wine collection from their guests, Ship Sharp and I included. I have to note: it's such a welcome change to talk queer with Kyle S. We went to high school together and he was one of the first people I hung out with in grade nine. We were both so heavily closeted as young'uns, though he came out years before I did. But yeah, just getting the chance to make the jokes about our younger selves and to understand where each other is now coming from is a great place to be with someone.

Ship Sharp and I left at around 10 PM and carried on our own after-party chez Ship (RE: Tea-infused discussions about writing/writers we admire, books-to-film, and other intellectual endeavors). I realized this morning how much I miss talking shop like that. I mean, I know I'm a member of Ladies in Writing, but we don't discuss professional writers with the kind of detail Ship Sharp and I did last night. I tell you, tea brings out the absolute best in people and inspires the greatest conversation. I would argue it's a better social lubricant than alcohol, even. Yes, you just read that. And yes, I am a nerd.

On that note, I'm off for another evening with Ship Sharp and The Advocate before a work-intensive week starts anew.

Last Week of Relaxation

Here it is -- the last week to relax before I head back to work. Almost four months of unemployment has landed me back at the same pool manufacturer I worked at from April to December of 2009.

I would have preferred a different job, no doubt. I was aiming for a job geared toward writing or a job located in the realm of publishing, but alas -- about fifty resumes + zero job interviews later = Reclamation by the former employer desperate for experienced summer help.

*Sigh*

***

Sunday updates: I neglected to post. I am aware and now, I make amends. It was a quiet affair. I ended up nixing the poetry reading last minute. I weighed the option, but there's some aura with the group that's unsettled me. I've been to their meetings three times before over the last few years and I tend to leave deflated. Not about my own work, but about the calibre of writers living in this suburban area.

I opted for a quick shopping trip with my Mom and lil' brother. The Brother was in need of a green shirt for a school band (yeah, I don't know what the significance of the green shirt is, but I will find out tomorrow) and he needed to pick up some other items. I picked up work-related shoes. They're nothing fancy -- just a pair of flats designed for comfort vs. style. I tend to not care how I look at this office, so I might as well be comfortable. *Is cheeky*

The evening rounded out with the ladies -- I headed out to The Advocate's to check out a travel vlog she's made for quite possibly the sweetest travel-related job on this planet. Hmm, I might just have to provide a link to her entry once it's posted. She's a spunky sweetheart who deserves this and, if I can make the request to readers out there, I know she'd appreciate the support (as would I!)

Also caught up with Ship Sharp who has landed an internship with Canada's top casting director. Yeah. It's a staggering amount of success Ship Sharp is finding for herself at the moment. This translates to me needing to kick myself into gear. Serious, I hang out with some stunnin' kids and I need to return the general awesomeness with some success of my own, now. That, or I can distract them with more Torchwood zines before I am disowned for my general laziness and rampant anime consumption....

Both are valid options.

***

So there -- the weekend in a nutshell. Hmm, one upside to this summer contract is the fact I'll be reading the paper each lunch again. It's always good fodder for blog posts, I find. Oh, and money. Having cash will be nice.

Can't forget about that one, now, can I?

WEEKENDGOGOGO!

*Downs a bottle of water, doubles over in an out-of-breath fashion*

Need to... slow.... down.... for a moment....

It's been one of those weekends a gal needs a break from. It's been hectic, but a whole lot of fun. And it's not even Sunday yet.

That's how I roll.

I imagine the exhaustion stems from what can only be described as "The Worst Night's Sleep in Existence." Picture it: One night-owl of a brother decides to pump up the bass to his music around midnight and then lets the shower run for forty minutes at around 3 AM. Did I mention the head of my bed is a thin wall away from the shower? Did I also mention I am a wretchedly light sleeper? I might have logged 3 hours of sleep last night. 4 would be generous.

And then I had to roll into Toronto for a volunteer meeting at the Harbourfront Centre.

I shouldn't berate the morning too much, though. After all, I am a morning person. I'm most with it between the hours of 9 AM and 11 AM. The GO train rolled me into Union Station about 45 minutes before the appointed gathering, so I took the time to loll about at the harbour and watch the planes land on a strip close by. It was still and crisp and all filled with affirmations. I highly recommend the experience.

The meeting itself was a decent one. Most of the events coming up for May are kid-oriented which, I admit, I am not so comfortable with. Yeah. Kids and I don't tend to mix well. Granted, there are some literary events targeted for children approaching and I am decidedly good with books. So, perhaps not all is lost. I've got my eyes set on the summer/autumn months where the Heavyweights of the Can. Lit. Scene will descend on the harbourfront and OWN IT. *Excitement abounds!*

I'm also checking out other Toronto-based literary events and comic cons to volunteer for. I'm embracing my inner cheap bastard and am trying to weasel ways to get into events for free. And, volunteering benefits everyone, so I redeem myself in the same stroke. Impressive.

Anyhow, the meeting let out late and I missed the 12:43 PM train and had to wait an additional hour for the next one. I staked out a corner, bought myself a Smarties Blizzard from DQ, and flipped through this week's edition of NOW Magazine. Discovered Evelyn Evelyn (a recent profile for Tunes for Tuesdays) is coming to town in June. Yes, that is correct. I might have the chance to see Amanda Fucking Palmer on stage. Wicked excited about this one, no doubt.

As I waited, The Sister texted me in reference to taking a hike (in the literal sense). I confirmed, despite my later arrival time from Toronto. We headed out to a nice creek-ish area with her basset hound, Ruby, and walked the trails for almost two hours. I know, we are just mental like that. Poor Ruby, she was so tuckered out. Bassets have short legs, it takes a lot out of them to leap through puddles and dash across hills. Ruby was also terrified of a sow that snorted at her from the farm area at the creek. It was hilarious.

And now, I have come off another well-deserved anime binge. Tonight, it was the later episodes of Shugo Chara (which, I can't believe I admit to watching), and I've started in on re-watching the Nana series because IT IS THE BEST MANGA/ANIME/LIVE-ACTION FILM EVER. People are crying over everything and there's inter- and intra-band tensions and everyone has such freakin' awesome clothing -- I love it. I love it to unhealthy levels. More on that with a later post, perhaps.

So yes, a lively day. I am all tuckered out, myself. And Sunday sounds like a rush, too. Since it's April, it's National Poetry Month and I'm headed out to a local cafe for a reading (and to also rub elbows with a prominent poet in the GTA, FYI). Then, if plans are still in place, I will be sippin' tea with The Advocate and Ship Sharp for the evening. I need lady time, for serious.

Hope you kids are having fun thus far and I will check in again before the weekend closes.

Retro Shindig for The Advocate

All the cats and chicks got their kicks this weekend with The Advocate -- we travelled back through the 20th-century and crashed into the 50s to celebrate her birthday in style. Costumes were donned, drinks were free flowing, and the juke box kept close company with us for the night.

As a fan of Doctor Who and the potential for time travel, I would argue the experience was an express success.

So yes, The Advocate turned 24 on April 1st and we took to Toronto to celebrate on April 3rd. 50s dress code was in effect and I was impressed to see how folks interpreted their signature style. The Advocate and The Bruce bested all of us, natch -- the kids mastered a cool bit of spunk with matching rockabilly outfits. I admit, I felt underdressed in their presence. I opted for the backyard casual/tomboy look with a sporty pair of shoes, jeans, a white t-shirt, and a blue/white checked button-up. We took in a stellar dinner at the posh, yet quirk-filled, joint, 7 West Cafe. Gorgeous interior and delicious fare was welcomed by all. I mean, honey-glazed vegetables in sandwich form? Yes, please. E & I met up with us there for drinks and E was dazzling in a Mad Men inspired look. See? Diverse fashion for such a theme party.

We headed over to The Boat (158 Augusta Ave.) for 10 PM to meet up with the rest of the gang. Now, as The Advocate explained, The Boat has no website of its own. Its existence is almost secretive in a sense as it's located on a pocket of a street, hidden from the main roads of Toronto. And why "The Boat," you ask? Oh, maybe because the interior resembles the inner workings of a boat, portholes and all. It was kitch and classic all at once.

One night a month, the venue hosts a 50s-themed dance night and Saturday just happened to coincide with The Advocate's birthday. It was a small spot with an excellent, friendly staff and -- did I mention the kickin' soundtrack? The night started with big band standards and steadily progressed through juke box collections, disco hits, and even on to 80s tracks. There were other diehards out in full force with their slick costumes, too. The crowd was a fun one, full of nerds and liberal kids and artistic types -- definitely my kind of folk.

Hats off to The Advocate for such a fantastic idea for a night out. Ship Sharp arrived later (on account of work) and the two of us stunned the dance floor with our inventive new moves. I still think the machine-gun-pelvic-thrust is the single greatest creation I've been involved with. It was one of those nights where a gal could only take two pulls on a beer before she was called out to the floor for someone's favourite song. Ah, pure bliss in retro form.

I have another insight to share from the evening, but that's best saved for another post. It's more a call for advice from you, dear readers. As for this post, I'll leave you with a sock hop favourite. Pull on that poodle skirt or rock out in a James Dean jacket and have a pleasant Monday afternoon, all.

(I had to include this second clip once I found it. Such a character change from the way she speaks to the way she sings. Too awesome for words.)

Perfection In A Pint

Oh, St. Patrick's Day -- I marvel at the crazies you draw out from across the city. The lure of green-tinted beer, potato-based meals, and emerald-clad twenty-somethings is too overwhelming for the questionable quarter of the populace.

(Wow, enough dashes used in that last sentence, huh?)

Now, before I sound all removed from the festivities, I admit -- I was in the centre of the madness. Or, rather, our crew dodged the mad core and discovered our own bit of Irish-themed fun. I was decked out in the vibrant green button-up that tends to draw compliments from friends and strangers alike and had a sweet excursion to Toronto overall.

I wasn't a reveler the whole time, of course. I was downtown for 6 PM on account of a volunteer orientation meeting at the Harbourfront Centre. It's one of the cultural and artistic hubs of Toronto and, well -- I want to get in on that. Local bookworms will know the Centre for its epic International Festival of Authors event in the fall, featuring Canada's finest writers in addition to fantastic authors from around the world. As I said, I want to get in on that. Even if it means clearing plates for Margaret Atwood, I want to get in on that.

Alas, the meeting went far longer than expected. I was set to meet The Advocate for 7 PM and ended up arriving an hour later. Horrific. The meeting was informative and cleared up a number of questions I harboured. And, heck, we even got a tour of the area. Still, I felt like a cad for keeping The Advocate waiting. I know she ~steeped~ herself in three cups worth of tea at her old tea haunt, but I was cad nonetheless.

After we joined forces, we attempted to gain entrance to The James Joyce Pub. Note to Readers: Entrance to an Irish pub on St. Patrick's Day is going to be impossible. And expensive. We learned this the hard way.

The Advocate scored a free t-shirt from the pub while we waited in line. Then we discovered it was a Bud Light shirt. *Shudder* I suggested she throw it into a cab window as one drove past, but she found an unsuspecting bicycle basket to "donate" it to. Oh, word.

Quote of the Night: Miz Moffatt: BOOMER! OMG! ..... You're a Cylon.

(I recently got sucked into the world of Battlestar Galactica, so, prepare for future posts as I delve further into it. I give you ample warning.)

We waited in the line for.... one and a half hours? It was an entertaining wait, for sure. I find I have the most fun while waiting for the scheduled fun to occur. Weird. Anyhow, the bouncer was letting all these random people pass through the door who hadn't been waiting in line. Then, as The Advocate and I were about to go in, we discovered there was a cover charge.... OF 10 DOLLARS. WHAT?! Are you for serious, James Joyce Pub? More like... LAMES Joyce Pub. *Smug at her horrible insult*

We ditched that scene.

New Plan: Red Room. (Alas, there's no website to link to.) It was an excellent location with a delicious array of food, all for decent, student-friendly prices. We met up with The Advocate's Boy as he was exiting a streetcar. We had time on our side from that point on, it seemed. (P.S. -- Advocate, if you are reading this, we are in need of a nickname for your gent. I need an Advocate-approved name, methinks).

We scored our green beer at the Red Room -- in actuality, it was beer with blue food colouring added to it. It didn't quite blend with the beer, but heck -- it was green enough. Beer is beer, which means it is good in all forms. The Advocate and I dove into some premium breakfast plates (since beer and breakfast are flawless partners). The Advocate's Boy went global with a Pad Thai dish. Get this: three meals, one pitcher of beer, and two additional pints = $45. Serious, it's awesome pricing there.

We were all quite silly for the night. The Advocate's Boy performed a few of James Joyce's smut-filled letters with a genuine Irish accent. I find it impressive that what was once a disturbing collection of letters is rendered impish once read with an Irish accent. I know, it's a powerful accent. I'm still curious to know Nora Barnacle's responses to this... literature. Ah, lost letters -- the curse of all historians. We brainstormed theatre ideas for these letters, too. Oh, ho, the potential therein.

We headed back earlier this time around (1 AM!) and The Advocate and I meandered through another late-night, tea-induced conversation about whatever we could think of. Those are the greatest conversations, I would argue. People become more honest past midnight and tea tends to loosen those hidden concerns. So, there -- tea confidantes include O'Neill and The Advocate. Soon, all friends I know shall be converted.

So yes, all in all, a splendid night. It was one of those gems we should all strive for. And if green beer is involved, then all the better.

***

PARALYMPIC UPDATE:

Wowwowwow -- Team Canada has doubled the medal count since I last updated this blog. We are up to 12 medals now and the excitement keeps right on building in Vancouver:

• Viviane Forest, Alpine-Skiing - Women's Giant Slalom, Visually Impaired (Bronze, March 16)
• Lauren Woolstencroft, Alpine-Skiing - Women's Giant Slalom, Standing (Gold, March 17)
• Brian McKeever, Cross-Country Skiing - Men's 10KM Classic, Visually Impaired (Gold, March 18)
• Colette Bourgonje, Cross-Country Skiing - Women's 5KM, Sitting (Bronze, March 18)
• Lauren Woolstencroft, Alpine-Skiing - Women's Downhill, Standing (Gold, March 18)
• Viviane Forest, Alpine-Skiing - Women's Downhill, Visually Impaired (Gold, March 18)

Check it out, Canadian athletes are taking multiple medals at the 2010 Games. And again, I return to the same question: Why are we not seeing coverage of these events? I've gotten updates on medal scores via the local evening news (to a degree) and through the Vancouver 2010 website. But, what about clips, people? We've had stunning performances that should be seen and celebrated, especially considering we've got key athletes owning that elusive medals podium. Methinks some athlete profiles are needed for the ol' blog. More to come!

Drama-rama Redux

Thus begins our tour of Toronto's numerous theatres -- as of last night, The Advocate and I are now officially stalking Ship Sharp like the eager fangirls we are. She's thrown herself into the wide world of auditions and is owning the stage like a feudal lord owns the world.

(Ah, archaic similes.)

So yes, another trek into the city calls for a point-form update:

• Reunited with The Advocate after her month abroad. Got to gossip about Team Canada's athletes and other delicious tidbits.
• I took the longest route to the subway. We arrived in Toronto to meet The Advocate's Boy at least.... one hour late? *Pulls collar* Eek. And oops. Our plan involved browsing through the Silver Snail (another comic book/manga-related store), however we were cutting it too close with the time. Ah, one day I will explore its crowded shelves like the nerd I am.
• Headed to The Black Bull Hotel and Tavern for a quick dinner. (I believe that's the name of the spot -- it's across the street from the Silver Snail in any case). The Advocate and I split a wicked plate of nachos. Mmm, classic. So fulfilling despite its poor health.
• Hopped a cab to The Alumnae Theatre to commence praise of Ship Sharp's stage skillz. March = The New Ideas Festival at the venue. Playwrights are encouraged to stage their new work/work-in-progress/experimental theatre for an audience. In addition, the festival is a juried affair, so I imagine the exposure for writers/actors/directors is an excellent CV credit. Our group arrived ten minutes after the show started. Alas. We had to wait for intermission before we could take seats -- luckily, Ship Sharp's play was in the second half, so we were still covered.
• Commence tension: An ex girlfriend and a one-date gal of The Advocate's Boy were cast members in the first play. Eek.
• Spent an hour lounging in the foyer nursing beers tasting of soy sauce. The Advocate's Boy read sections of Anne of Green Gables for our amusement. Voices: Christopher Walker, pleasant Scottish accent, creeper voice. Good times.
• Ship Sharp's play was the first featured in the second act. Ashes to Ashes -- Three siblings gather for their mother's wake, awaiting the arrival of her ashes. Dark hilarity with ample quirk ensues. Serious, it was a well-written piece. Sharp, quick-paced, brimming with humour, and supported by a strong, fun ensemble cast. And Ship Sharp played a character far removed from her usual roles which was wild to see. The cast was a solid one and it was obvious everyone appreciated each other's work.
• Last play: OH. NOES. Picture: an emotional/plot flatline, awkward stage (mis)direction, unnatural dialogue phrasing ("When I left, which was seventeen years ago, I...."). Painful, indeed. There was quite the circular logic with the play, too: "You left." "But, I wanted to be a rockstar--" "You left." "But, I couldn't support--" "You left." "I'm an alcoholic--" "You left." "Hey, long-lost Mom, I am angry at you--" "Grandson, you will RESPECT your mother, even though I made it evident throughout the play I will never forgive her for leaving us. P.S. worthless daughter, you can sleep over here in your old bedroom tonight."
• Congratulated Ship Sharp and took our group out to Betty's. Sleep-deprived shenanigans stalked our conversation. The Advocate tried to purchase a picture from their wall (a man and a woman riding a fish, Renaissance-style), but alas -- the staff would not budge. It's a nice location with a fantastic beer selection. And their menu was quite detailed despite their kitch appearance. You could order Pad Thai, nachos, or breakfast -- where else is this possible?
• I returned home at 2:00 AM after the subway and a car ride. On a Wednesday night. Ah, the life of the unemployed. Glamourous? Maybe?

It was a full evening with the nearest and dearest, I must admit. I like the sense of adventure there, the knowledge of great potential. We might have set plans for a night, but we know full well the course of the wind might change and take us in a new direction. Brilliant.

I spent most of this afternoon/evening with Ship Sharp and The Advocate. We sipped tea, ate a pile of junk food, and nourished our minds with the random fare of YouTube. It's astounding how addictive random videos can be. We were all subdued after our rambunctious night, but, hey -- that's how we should be at this age.

I feel I've had the weekend shuffled into the ol' schedule earlier than anticipated. It's weird to think tomorrow is Friday. Maybe it's a sign I should spend the next few days cleaning and completing writing projects. You know, get down to the grit of the grindstone.

We shall see.

Buddies in Bad Times: What A "Drag"

OH, TORONTO -- I love that cities tend to have such an air of potential to them. It's so simple to stumble across scenes or situations you were not expecting and it always seems to turn out for the best.

Last night was most certainly one of those occasions.

Hmm, point form, perhaps?:

• Headed to Ship Sharp's pad for 8:30 pm. Updated one another on our lives as dictated by the last two weeks. Ship Sharp's current working schedule makes me flinch. I mean, I need to kick myself into gear to match her energy levels and personal drive -- but I am still recovering on behalf of her and her intense workload.
• Rocked the jasmine tea (with bubbles!) and some popcorn. Narrated the thoughts of Buddy the Cat and his attempts to obtain popcorn.
• Introduced Ship Sharp to the sheer awesomeness of Lady Gaga's current single, "Telephone." Decided that music musts for the evening included: Plenty of Gaga, Beyonce, Rihanna, and Britney.
• Highlight: Ship Sharp and I waiting at the door, scratching the glass, and compelling Lady Gaga to dictate our evening.
• Rob and Ryan rolled into the townhouse complex at around.... 10:30 pm or 11 pm? Can't quite recall. Cruised into Toronto with the tracks at full volume. Whoever designed the lights for the CN Tower must have known about our plan -- we took it as a good omen that the CN Tower was washed in purple lights. Decided we could transform the car into a mobile club should our end destination prove to be a bust. Sang along to numerous Gaga tracks and some other fantastic gems.
• Arrived at Buddies in Bad Times to discover -- A PREMIUM DRAG SHOW! Yes, a collection of drag queens ruled the roost for most of our excursion. And, oh goodness, it was most excellent. The Hytes Sisters (Farenheit and Heavenly Heights) were the main performers for the evening, both bringing rather different styles with them. Heavenly was more focused when it came to the performance aspect, occasionally interacting with the crowd for a coy moment or two. Farenheit made it very clear that the stage was hers and we all best watch her every move. She was fantastic, though -- she stopped an obnoxious guy from dancing, she was sharp and full of sass if someone tried to heckle, and I was impressed with her ability to knock back drinks. She picked me out and got me to down the rest of my drink and she even managed to sass me when I was saucy enough to offer the empty bottle back.
• Note: I am one of those people who gets picked out at drag events, without fail. I am an approachable character, I suppose.
• Dancing started rather late, well after midnight. We were treated to Beyonce and a remixed Lady Gaga track, so we did quite well on the music. Highlights include: Ship Sharp's shoppin' cart dance, Ryan's fixation on buttons, and Rob's expert circle blocking abilities (gotta close ranks against the creepers, you know)

All in all, it was a fantastic evening. Now, ladies be warned -- the Buddies in Bad Times Cabaret tends to favour the gents. There are a handful of queer girls who attend, of course. But, the demographic is skewed toward the gay gents and their straight gal pals. Honestly, though, the atmosphere is a welcoming one. I tend to feel at home in theatre settings given that drama-related background of mine, so spending the night in an arts-intensive spot felt great.

The one drawback: Not a great beer selection. Hmm. Though, again, the bar shied toward mixed drinks as opposed to the bottle selection. I shake my head at all beers with a citrus flavour brewed into it. Serious, that's what lemon/lime slices are for.

I'm charged to start exploring more locations and checking out the Toronto nightlife further. Once The Advocate returns from Vancouver and once Ship Sharp's schedule mellows a touch, I vote we get back out there for a second round of shenanigans.

Ah, how I missed it.

***

OLYMPIC UPDATE:

Congrats to another gold medal athlete on Team Canada:

• Jon Montgomery, Men's Skeleton (Gold, Feb. 19)

I wish I could find a photo from his victory walk -- I saw footage of it on the news and a woman in the crowd handed him a pitcher of beer for his efforts. Serious. The man was still in his Spandex uniform and there he was strolling through the Olympic Village downing a pitcher of beer. So awesome and so freakin' Canadian all in one go.

I [heart] the Olympics.