may 26, 2001. "You...say to me-very calmly and quietly-'Do you think we fuck too much?' And I say, ' No, I don't think we fuck too much.' This is my idea of slippers on the feet, dinner tonight, how was work today dear. This is the domestic life I've always longed for." - erin cressida wilson, bust magazine "Sex dwarf! Isn't it nice? Luring disco dollies to a life of vice!" - soft cell I'm feeling very cosmopolitan tonight. Not only am I stuffed full of Bust magazine (ferried all the way from Toronto by the ever-willing Palaver) and aurally pounded into a happy powder by Stacy's present of an MP3 cd of goth clubbing favourites (one listen through Bigod 20's "Like a Prayer" and I'm climbing the steps of the Garden once more), but I got to spend the whole sunny afternoon in Halifax. All afternoon I breathed the heavenly smell of freshly baking city and smiled the smile of a Canadian girl who knows that winter is finally over for another year. And it was even better to see that smile reflected back in the pale squinty faces of my fellow city wanderers. The hot pavement under my feet, the wind whipping in off the ocean, the reek of exhaust and fried food - oh, it was the very heaven. We were originally scheduled to pick up Dav's comic book (yee!) and then catch a matinee of Ginger Snaps, which everyone has been raving about. Unfortunately for us, the movie left town while we were in Edmonton. I was quite pouty when I found this out. But at the same time, I was not pouty enough to scuttle a field trip on a gorgeous day like today. So after some lock-picking confusion (the Boy had locked the keys in the car - quelle faux pas!) we headed down that long & winding Ridge Road (you know, the one that goes through cow fields and mud flats). It was an absolutely breathtaking day for the Annapolis Valley, and I was glad that I didn't have my camera...days like this tempt me beyond endurance and when I get my film back, the landscape is impossibly small and unimportant. When we reached the wonderful sushi palace we ate in last time, we were told that they were closing down to prepare for dinner. The Boy was in favour of finding somewhere else, but I dismissed this as random crankiness and asked for take-out instead. The convenience store across the street sold Jones Soda, of all things, so we loaded up with Green Apple and Vanilla Cola and took our sushi to a shady square with a plinth. Picnic! I highly recommend sushi picnics - you can eat everything with your hands and there isn't enough of any one thing to make eating even slightly boring. We had a small moment of panic when the soy sauce spilled everywhere, but soon I was so into the sushi that I didn't mind dipping into the little puddle of soy that had formed on the concrete. The Boy looked at me in wonder, then followed suit. There's something marvellous about an afternoon when you choose to eat off the concrete. The sushi filled us with well-being and quite a bit of laziness, so we hung out on the glass for a good while and smooched for the passing tourbus. Then it was back to work, wandering around the city and buying comic books. At one point we found ourselves in the Old Burial Ground, and I immediately wished that I had my camera. Never mind, the next time I have a photo shoot scheduled, I'll locate it in the graveyard (hah! are you listening, dav?) We managed to get out of the comic book store with the bare minimum: two copies of Spookshow #1 (which we will get personalized when we get back to T.O.), one Louis Riel #1 (for Petra) and Jetcat Clubhouse #1 (I had to. I am Melanie McKay & Oddette). I was a little taken aback by the Spookshow display - they had ordered 20 copies of the first issue, and they had displayed them on the counter at a "special price of $2.50." But after a moment of panic, I decided that this was a good thing. The comic is produced by a complete unknown; they have to get the word out somehow. Besides, it's pretty early in the month to give up on a title. I got a giggle out of the sign: "by some folks in Toronto." Heh. I though about telling them that Ray Fawkes and Dav Komlos are the same person, but the time wasn't right. I think I'll wait until Dav is an international success and I can get geek boys to DB me based on our former acquaintance. I say "former" because it is obvious that by that time Dav will be surrounded by a phalanx of gorgeous corseted girls who will 'forget' to give him my messages. It's not too late, Dav! Save yourself from future comic groupies! Ahem. I think I got lost in Amoret land for awhile. Please forgive me. oddette is copyright jay stephens. you can visit him here: More words about the CD Stacy made for me: there are so many songs on it that I haven't listened to it all in 3 days of dedicated play. My current favourites are "Come On Eileen" covered by the Cure, "Take the Skinheads Bowling" by Camper Van Beethoven, "Something Good" by Utah Saints and that song by Divine. You know which one I'm talking about. I was absolutely banjaxed by one of the three Momus selections on the disk: 'MC Esher.' The lyrics are so brilliant that I was reminded of one of Guy's catchphrases, "oh, that's so good! I'd fuck him for writing that lyric." (Imagine it in an Israeli accent and you've nailed it.) I'm also flabbergasted that she presciently included the Utah Saints song - it was on one of the programmed radio channels on the airplane, so I heard it about 8 times this weekend and loved it every time - but before this, I don't recall ever hearing it. Such a good CD.