Kukua!!!

Living with 5 or 6 women does have its disadvantages. In fact, I think it only has disadvantages. One girl admitted today to having Seasonal Affect Disorder. Which is fine and dandy for the rest of us except that she called a ROOMATES' meeting to tell us all. There are so many feelings floating around you could swat them with a fly swatter. She wants to conduct a bitch session, now, once a week. In other words, she wants to meet once weekly to bitch about the living situation. She's also a girly lesbian what dresses like a bike dyke and despises guy folk. Needless to say, she's troubled with herself and her identity and feels it necessary to impose her degree of lost and confused on us all. But of course, the girls are all more than willing to jump on board and I'm corralled into our weekly cry and moan meetings. Not that I didn't suggest we do this thing monthly instead; just, our lost child needs all eyes on her once a week instead of once every full moon.

In other news, I'm really digging this Hawaiian pidgin. It's akin to Canadian, really. Today I sat in a medical office and listened to a guy throw "ehs" around like it was the Vancouver Winter Olympics (which just ended gloriously for the Maple Leaves up north). My favorite thing about Hawaii, however, is Bangkok Chef! Their yellow chicken curry is to die for with potatoes and white meat chicken and ginger and STICKY RICE! Best part? It's only $6.5o. I'd do it everyday if I could (which I can't, it's in Chinatown, far far away from my home in Makakilo by island standards).

As nice as all THAT is, I'm still looking forward to my next 3 visits to beautiful Canada (to visit my gal pal on the way back to New York, to grab my car in Montreal, and gal palling it again whilst attending Rifflandia 3 in September). I feel good. Good.

To the EAST!

Hippies do it best. Over this past weekend, I've come to revisit the lifestyle I just recently got a hardcore taste of in Tennessee. A bud here in Montreal had this 36 hour party to get to in the Eastern Townships... and I've got a car. It was a dangerous mix. So I invited the girl I have a crush on and she brought her girlfriend. Oh the antics!!

Everything went uphill from there. Had I not lost my tin of Burt's Bees lip balm, I'd say the weekend was PERFECT. Crush and I swam through bottles of hard, hard alcohol (though not liquor). 11.1% Blithering Idiots were chugged, 13.5% Merlot was pounded, and we chased all that good shit with 8.6% Boris Bold tall boys. So we got so hammered by the time the djay threw on Punjabi MC we had no qualms 10 minutes later when the djay again threw on Punjabi MC!!! That's how drunk we were. But did it make a difference? No, because everyone there was zooted on MDMA and even crush's girlfriend was given psychadelic juice at 8am before she hit the hay. Sunday was one massive hangover in paradise.

On the drive back the girls hit the lake. And then we stopped at A&W and I got the highlight of the trip. Me and crush were going apeshit over my iced tea in a chilled A&W rootbeer glass/mug.

Is it any wonder I'm sitting here in front of this laptop on the verge of a major depression now that that happiness is over. It was literally the best trip of my whole entire life.

Alright, anyway, it's off to the Jazz Fest to try and recoup some sanity in good music. Apparently, a Rocksteady show is beckoning the friend who brought me out to the East. Fingers crossed it'll be good.

And I haven't gone crazy...

The people here... are FLAKY! Maybe it's just that I need people? It could all just be me.

I think I'm making good progress. But then I get flaked on. People are so nonchalant in Canada about doing or not doing things. Which I can almost understand. I think I may be a bit much for people sometimes, especially the Canadians. Eh.

But yesterday I went to Brewtopia. They've got excellent beers and such. So I run for the strongest thing they've got. The Belgium. The bartender lady looks me square in the eye and says "it's strong!" Apparently she's never had a Blithering Idiot. Or a QUAD. Or a Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA. In fact, when/if I get back to the States, I've got to find a 120 and pound it.

Right, so I sit on the Brewtopia terrace and I sip on my half pint of 9% Belgium (by the fucking way, it's the only beer that wasn't a dollar off; it was all day happy hour Monday) and I notice one of the two lesbians looking at me. I really thought I was mistaken. But then from down below two other girls called up to me and asked if I'd seen a girl with short jean shorts walk pass. The lesbians got very keen on me now and started whispering to one another. Baffled, they called to me about 8 minutes later to ask if the girls were asking about a short girl going into the bar. Without giving them the mind-your-own-business-bitches face, I humored them and told them they were wrong-ola. But they started to chat me up, I invited myself over to their table and we made a good hour out of it. We exchanged numbers and had a mega cool Montreal conversation. This sort of shit is exactly why I came here. And one of them was really searing hot. But a lesbian.

Sooooo. I'm pretty sure I'll never see them again. That's how these folkses work.

WAIT! As I'm typing, a Canadian has rung me. Yoga teacher. Wants to go to some sort of improv. Says she's tired or something. BUT, I've got something to do. So I'll ship off now. I'll add a pic to this post upon my return.