Decidedly off deadline.
Oct. 23rd, 2010 04:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leahbobetThis afternoon I am skipping out on The Toronto Specfic Colloquium and eating cheese (apricot stilton) and crackers (fig olive Raincoast Crisps) in my pajamas, because I have not really been home all week except to sleep, and not enough of that got done either. Even when this means doing impeccably fun stuff in and around the usual Dayjob activity, this can be stressful and eventually one's dishes do need washing.
What did get done?
A Brazilian barbeque outing. Dance class.
A book launch for Amy Lavender Harris's Imagining Toronto, which is an academic book about how Toronto is reflected in literature written about it and set in it. This is enough to make me geek out and buy myself ten signed copies all by itself, but doubly so because she talks about my "Midnights on the Bloor Viaduct" in it. Eeeee. :)
Mark Lanegan and Isobel Campbell in concert at Lee's Palace, which was not precisely what I was expecting -- apparently their second album together went really country -- but was saved by the encore (Wedding Dress! Revolver! Whee!) and the company.
Some extra-credit Dayjob work helping with a Canadian Parliamentary conference yesterday, which meant getting to watch their presentations on stuff like how PEI is coping with global warming and a particular point of political strategy involving private member's bills. This is probably not interesting to you, but after two years at Dayjob, it is interesting to me. Also, I found out that there's a lighthouse on PEI that is, no kidding, an inn that you can stay in. You can sleep in the actual lighthouse tower, right on the coast, right next to the ocean. I shit you not.
I am falling over with writing retreat lust.
Last night, Tokyo Police Club and Phoenix in concert at the Ricoh; they put rubber tile thingies on what's normally hockey ice to make a dance floor and had both a floor section and stadium seats. And this was what I was expecting: happy and bouncy and full of guitar and enough bass to make my ribs vibrate and the tip of my nose itch. I didn't take pictures: we were too busy dancing every stressful thing from the last week down to a puddle on the floor. But have a sample.
Phoenix did this sweet little three-song acoustic bit in the middle of the dance floor, where the sound boards were set up: now it's an arena show! Now it's an intimate venue! Presto! It was really nice, and very deeply French in a way I can't pinpoint for you. And while Dr. My Roommate was a little ambivalent about the "Now we will be experimental rock people!" thing that preceded it, I was fully on board.
There are two shows tonight I could be going to, one stand-up-and-dance, one sit-down-and-get-squished-because-it's-Massey-Hall. I am probably bailing on both. The allure of my jammies is strong, and after all this, an evening in knitting and watching bad TV is probably indicated.
Note that at no point during this post did I mention the word revising. :D
What did get done?
A Brazilian barbeque outing. Dance class.
A book launch for Amy Lavender Harris's Imagining Toronto, which is an academic book about how Toronto is reflected in literature written about it and set in it. This is enough to make me geek out and buy myself ten signed copies all by itself, but doubly so because she talks about my "Midnights on the Bloor Viaduct" in it. Eeeee. :)
Mark Lanegan and Isobel Campbell in concert at Lee's Palace, which was not precisely what I was expecting -- apparently their second album together went really country -- but was saved by the encore (Wedding Dress! Revolver! Whee!) and the company.
Some extra-credit Dayjob work helping with a Canadian Parliamentary conference yesterday, which meant getting to watch their presentations on stuff like how PEI is coping with global warming and a particular point of political strategy involving private member's bills. This is probably not interesting to you, but after two years at Dayjob, it is interesting to me. Also, I found out that there's a lighthouse on PEI that is, no kidding, an inn that you can stay in. You can sleep in the actual lighthouse tower, right on the coast, right next to the ocean. I shit you not.
I am falling over with writing retreat lust.
Last night, Tokyo Police Club and Phoenix in concert at the Ricoh; they put rubber tile thingies on what's normally hockey ice to make a dance floor and had both a floor section and stadium seats. And this was what I was expecting: happy and bouncy and full of guitar and enough bass to make my ribs vibrate and the tip of my nose itch. I didn't take pictures: we were too busy dancing every stressful thing from the last week down to a puddle on the floor. But have a sample.
Phoenix did this sweet little three-song acoustic bit in the middle of the dance floor, where the sound boards were set up: now it's an arena show! Now it's an intimate venue! Presto! It was really nice, and very deeply French in a way I can't pinpoint for you. And while Dr. My Roommate was a little ambivalent about the "Now we will be experimental rock people!" thing that preceded it, I was fully on board.
There are two shows tonight I could be going to, one stand-up-and-dance, one sit-down-and-get-squished-because-it's-Massey-Hall. I am probably bailing on both. The allure of my jammies is strong, and after all this, an evening in knitting and watching bad TV is probably indicated.
Note that at no point during this post did I mention the word revising. :D
