September 13, 1998.

Gosh. It's been a really long time since I did so much nothing as I did today. At least when I waste a weekend with Sister Sunshine, we watch a few movies (even if we watch the same ones more than once a day). Kind of a neat way to end off the summer. But definitely in order after everything I did yesterday.

I attempted to make some in-roads on my fear of the kitchen by (gasp!) cleaning up a bit. What with the mice & everything, I really don't feel like leaving dishes out for too long. So I puttered around for a few hours, reading The Broom of the System, eating breakfast & watching the few channels not reliant on cable. I think it was worth while, tho'... as soon as Galadrial returned from her weekend out, she noticed & said "this is definitely going to work out." At least roommate tension isn't on my list of nagging household issues. But we're going to go through a lot of incense & lysol keeping this place smelling fresh. Oh well. Such is the nature of the basement apartment.

And then I got ready for the Nick Cave/Science Centre Rave double bill. I fretted over an outfit for hours (what do you have in your wardrobe that fits both occasions?) but I finally settled on the dress Stacy made me for my birthday with a black slip underneath to temper its' see-through nature. Barely accessorized at all...the last thing I wanted was to get really high & leave my boa or tiara at the Ontario Science Centre. I'm careless enough as it is. But I needed to look good for Nick.

Who, by the way, was utterly amaaaazing. I must admit, I like his Birthday Party material better than his solo stuff on average, but he has a way of performing that breaths malevolent life into everything. He's far too skinny & he was cuter in his youth & he dances like a punk (i.e. not very well), but he's still the most mesmerizing performer I've seen this year. Especially during "Red Right Hand," which he sang on his knees to the front row, popping up for the choruses & flinging himself into motion for the shotgun cracks of the bass drum. At the appropriate point in the song, he pointed to a girl in the crowd & sang "you don't like the guy you came here with, he'll get you a new one." It was crazy.

And he sang "Where the Wild Roses Grow" (originally a duet with Kylie Minogue) with his guitar player, Nick trying his best to get a reaction out of the guitar player by shamelessly snogging. High-larious.

He's not a performer who's afraid to get right close to the audience...old punk conditioning, I suspect. Predictably, the crowd was nutzo for him. A very drunk girl in the front row (who incidentally was given a ticket by the police for public urination in the street in front of the club) took advantage of a break to scream, "I love you!" Utterly cool, he turned to look for her, and answered without missing a beat, "Well, I love you." His tone was priceless: syrupy, drawling & eerily like a sleazy Vegas emcee. I wish I could've smuggled a tape recorder in just to catch that exchange. Would've made a wonderful .wav file.

Trevor had a very Seinfeldian moment before the concert began. We were talking & he got flagged by a short girl beside me...who I then recognized from the UC scene - a very friendly girl named Alexi who used to work at the Silver Snail. Although I've met her quite a few times, I mostly think of her as the girl Poet was head over heels for/psychotically obsessed with (depending on your p.o.v.) a few years ago. We exchanged pleasantries, and she cheerfully told Trevor that he was the reason she was there, as he'd leant her "Let Love In" a while ago (the same album he's currently lending me). He seemed uncomfortable with the meeting, which naturally made me curious. How could anyone feel uncomfortable in the presence of Alexi? The summer of Dickensian coincidences isn't over yet, for they used to date.

Poet...Alexi...Trevor...me...Poet...

I'm getting used to this now.

The rave was also quite a decent time. Although we weren't able to score 'shrooms before the show, Trevor & I bought 2 grams at the rave, which we felt upped our street-wise quotient considerably. As this was my first experience with mushrooms, I expected all the stereotypical things to happen: light trails, hand-watching, a sudden affinity for Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" LP (and possibly the Wizard of Oz). But the rave was such an over-stimulating place, it was hard to tell what was the drug & what was merely the lights & music.

By the time we made it home at 5 a.m., tho', I was unmistakably high. During the next hour, I became utterly convinced at certain points that I was telepathic with Trevor, in a very Spider Robinson way (c.f. Lady Slings the Booze) Although Sven tried gallantly to take Trotski, myself & a few others on a writer's field trip to Guelph the next morning, I only came down at 7 a.m. or so, and couldn't co-ordinate the complicated motions necessary to picking up the bedside phone at 9:30.

Overall, it was an awesome drug experience. I'd do it again in a heartbeat...although I was somewhat take-it-or-leave-it about the rave itself. I dunno...maybe it was the thousands of kids in identical expensive outfits or maybe it was the 'shrooms-induced tummy ache which prevented me from dancing or maybe it was just that I was a tired little bunny & no amount of smart drinks could revive me. I loved the candyravers passing out suckers to all & sundry. I loved it that Maharet & I were the only goth chix in the entire building. I really wanted to dance, but lacked the energy. Something about the whole rave atmosphere took away the normal killing rage that falls over my vision when I'm forced to listen to techno. An expensive night out. Next time I'll just take drugs & go to the Science Centre...but it was nice not having to fight through crowds of kids for a change.

Best part of the night: a contraption with a cycling tube painted with glow-in-the-dark splotches. You walk through on a narrow causeway, as the tube spins in the darkness...and then reality starts to lurch although gravity refuses to play those reindeer games. It's like being a poorly paid extra on Star Trek. We went through 3 times in a row, and it utterly blew our still-straight minds.