Monday, May 29, 2006

i've done i've done it.

i've decided where to go.

you see, i realized that i was trying to get my mitts all over europe in one go. it's been so long since i was there, and so withrdawal and wild overenthusiasm made me think i should be getting it all into 1 week. six years away will do that to a tortured soul. or rather, a travelling one.

so, i shall stay in the mediterranean. or is that the maditerranean?!

after all, the fates dropped this trip into my lap. so i shall go with it, and meander my way from cannes to barcelona - staring out the window of a glorious-viewed train, dreaming of beaches past and beaches to come.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

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peep peep the days go quick

don't stick stick, though sometimes i wish they would

so much to do so little focus. really, the minutes are just peeling away too quickly from this banana called time. Right, so that was slightly on the obscure side - but c'mon - this is prose, apropos to my mood.

and the mood is hyperactive, yet strangely quiet. my mind, heart and fingers are racing across this keyboard, and damnit if i'm not sure how to proceed.

June will either thrill or kill. my heart and the flutter flutters of their strings might spill across a cobblestoned alley, and be trampled upon by rowdy tourists, sweaty maps and guidebooks in hand.

i feel like i should be brushing up on my euro. poring over kafka. checking off my to-chekov list. pawing my dogeared regency comedies by my beloved georgette heyer.

in the meantime i shall keep making these playlists, designed to carry me through days of city wandering. of metro haunting. of airport slouching.

delights.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

oh falling behind, falling behind. i feel that i'm falling behind.

still have yet to decide on a destination. i fear that berlin might be a foolhardy choice. or, rather, i have been told on numerous occasions, in numerous conversations that berlin might be a foolhardy choice.

it's not that it's anything short of amazing. everyone has said.


berlin is killer.


it's that teensy tiny thing called le football that will be taking that nation by storm, and though i would probablly enjoy getting swept up in a little world cup enthusiasm, the booking and etc might be irksome.

of course, twas my numba one stunna.

and i so very much wanted to stay in this room.
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now what do i do? i'm at a loss. well, that really translates to i'm at a gain - too many enticing choices. i really should just resort to push-pinning a map, like some sort of character from a seafaring adventure.

maybe i should also get over my determination to get off the beaten path. though i know i got my own to conquer. and yes, i do believe that is an adaptation of a headline i once wrote for a GM vehicle. a chevy trailblazer to be exact. ah, when you quote your own drivel, you know things are good.

Monday, May 15, 2006

monday monday monday.

blue. blue. blue.

Actually, more of a grayish hue.
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Today is lots of little piddly piddly jobs - a stray headline here, a copy tweak there. My personal favourite is feedback from client that is so vague, it practically sounds like dialogue from some norweigan art house film. And perhaps that was an extraordinarily vague dis. but man. This is the feedback i got today on copy that i didn't even write, mind. (I am stepping in for a writer who broke his foot. Stepping in, see -- pretty funny, i know).

"(Client name goes here) thinks this is too weak. Any suggestions?"

too weak. Too weak? Does that mean not full of big muscular words like "impenetrable" or "unshakeable"? does it mean too girly or too soft-spoken or not flavorful enough, like a piss poor cup of earl grey?

lord knows.

i guess this is where my good old-fashioned creative writing skills come in handy.

it's almost reminiscent of the days of university past - when i would wax on about the most ridiculous things, though i probably had very little idea of what i was really talking of. Like the time i had to give a formal lecture to my classmates about Foucalt's analysis of Magritte's "This is not a pipe". I should have started by saying,

"This is not an intelligent take on anything. This is in fact a postmodern nonsense-fest of grandiose proportions. This is bee-essing to the extreme."

This is not a pipe. This is a Monday gripe. A realization that sometimes things you study academically and write professionally can be kind of tripe.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

could i really qualify as a jet-setter? or a kind of sort of jet-setter?
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a real go getter who gets to go somewhere and get?

i am trying to plan the month of June. and boy what a month it looks to be.

week 1: I'm off on a mini-retreat to a place called the Beach (but should be called the Beaches) to dogsit some neurotic chihuahuas. A week with them is like ten years dating some needy primadonna with a retarded son. A rather vague description to be sure - but if you met these 2 dogs you would understand. One is an adorable little number who knows she's adorable. And so believes that showing off and showing affection are synonymous. And that when you aren't giving her enough attention, you are a jerkwad. Yes, the primadonna. The other is a sturdy black pup who doesn't quite know what planet he's on. Fitting somehow that his name is Pluto. He doesn't know his name, despite the fact that he's had it for years, and is known to go into self-imposed exile by crawling under a bed and then crying like you have abandoned him in a trashcan. Both are charming, but crazy. And both love me very much, but also love tearing up boxes of chocolates and full bags of dirty diapers and whimpering and pacing all night. It should be grand.

week 2: I'm off to San Diego Caleeforrneea for a wedding. T'will most definitely be interesting - my cousin has 12 (yes, twelve) groomsmen. All boys i used to hang with in my highschool summers - they'd parade through my life in their surf shorts and oakleys, referring to us as the "canadian cousins'. Which sounds like the title for a tedious young adult paperback you'd find in the 10 cent bin at the public library. You know the kind - the back cover description would start "Jodie had no clue what to expect when her Canadian cousins came to town for the summer...but she was in for a whole lot more fun and adventure than she ever imagined!" So seeing the groomsmen in action will be fascinating, as will just soaking in the cultural experience that is the California wedding. Every dress will be accessorized with more than corsages - also tans and blonde tresses and smiles that could guide ships coming in on the Pacific. The reception is at an old Tiki themed restaraunt called the Bali Hai. Yes, so we can pretend we are all exotic and exciting. When we are really sipping punch and shuffling our feet to something the DJ thinks is current. Like the black eyed peas. or even better, Hey Ya.

week 3: 2 days after returning from the coast, i'll be heading to another one. Flying off to Cannes, to take on the world of advertising. Or hide under my hotel room bed, waiting for happy hour. A week in the town that's famous for annually hosting the famous -- Cannes should be a trip. I mean, in more ways than it already is one. Come on - i'll be in glammy France, living it up with the world's biggest nerds. The people who write the stuff that people read and discard every day, but also secretly enjoy. The hotshots of an industry that still needs waaaaay more satirizing. Perhaps this will give me enough fodder to get down and dirty-brilliant. I hear that noone actuallly sleeps at this festival. It's all boozing, schmoozing and perusing (ads). Sounds amusing.

week 4: Post-cannes, i have an adventure that has yet to be written. Sure, they're all unwritten as of now - but they at least have outlines. This one is pure free-form. i have no destination as of yet. i know i'll be flying home eventually - but the in-betweens are all blurry - like a polaroid taking its sweet sweet time to come into focus. Destinations have been tossed around like a tetherball. Berlin. Budapest. Madrid. what do you do when you want to go everywhere? pick a place and let fate take over i suppose. After all, this is a free ride - might as well just feel free about it. wasn't it En Vogue who said, free your mind and the rest will follow? wise women.

So there you have it. A June to remember. A June that will be magical enough to carry me through till September. Maybe even December. This is my month. A month of chihuahuas and southern californian cheer and french blissing, and european choose-your-own-adventures.

hurry up, May - end already.