Karaoke is not my thing. Never has been, never will be. It's a Will Ferrell film waiting to happen, in which he plays a guy who is really into it and competes with other people who are really into it and none of them get the joke that they're cheesy and awful and have outdated hairstyles. But if karaoke is your thing, the Atomic Rooster on Bank Street gives you your fix every Monday night.

Today I wrote a review of Cameron Anstee's "Remember Our Young Bones" chapbook and sent it off to the Danforth Review. I have an idea for a short story that intrigues me. A beginning, anyhow. If I don't start writing it tonight I'll get at it tomorrow.

Andrea is working on an article in the kitchen. We just finished watching Reservoir Dogs. The water in the building has been turned off for the night. I don't know if it has anything to do with the fact that the water heating kicked in the other day or not, but those pipes get hot.

I woke up and my alarm clock said 2:49, bringing me to gasp in horror, but then I shifted position and noticed that it actually read 12:49, which is a little closer to status quo for me. I made some breakfast and headed over to All Books in search of Margaret Atwood's "The Robber Bride" and Timothy Findley's "Headhunter," both of which were in stock and cheap because All Books does, in fact, rule (even if it did look as though a hurricane had hit it). I finished Yates' book yesterday and it definitely reads as material Sam Mendes would be attracted to - a couple living in suburbia who slowly lose their selves. I started Robber Bride today on a recommendation from a girl I met at Humber. If anyone can point my way towards multiple-point-of-view narratives I'd appreciate it, since I'm mining for writing tips.

Findley's I picked up because I heard it was about Kurtz from Heart of Darkness being let loose into modern day Toronto, which sounds right up my alley.

I need to start my writing output back up to something like 500 words a day. I'm working on another song that should be done by the end of this week. Plus I'm going to try my hand at a review. Last night I watched Romeo + Juliet, the Baz Luhrmann film from 1996. I used to have its poster on my wall. I invited a girl to see it with me when I was 16, but she wasn't particularly into me, so I didn't see it until it hit video.

I had been looking forward to last night for awhile, and it didn't disappoint. Lots of folks showed up and I think a good time was had by all. I got my first noise complaint, just a friendly request from a tired neighbor asking me to lower the music. Testing the limits of a new place is important. I was up until 4:30 and went to bed after some late late night diner.

Today has been all about cleaning up, picking through and sorting the wreckage in the aftermath, taking in the calm after a storm. It's as lazy as Sunday afternoons get. Tomorrow I'm going to get a bite on sending out some more resumes. I've been thinking about my employment situation a little too much lately for my tastes.

Jon Lajoie had a rowdy crowd at Zaphod's last night and put on a funny set that was mostly jokes about how he ended up doing what he's doing. Of course, he played his more famous songs live:





So that marks the first show I've ever gone to put on by an Internet sensation. Andrea and I were talking about videos we could make that would bring us fame overnight. Something along the lines of us acting as Siamese twins and dealing with everyday jams. I'd watch that.

I'm sprucing up the Flatcave for a celebration tonight. It will be the first time since I moved in that more than three people have been in the place at once.

Zaphod's is exactly the same.

It's shaping up to be an eventful weekend. The In/Words open mic is tonight, Andrea and I are seeing Jon Lajoie perform at Zaphod's tomorrow night, then I'm having a housewarming on Saturday.

I finished reading The Way the Crow Flies. It's an absolutely riveting mystery narrative rich in detail that brought tears to my eyes at times. She doesn't hit every single note right in the last quarter, but does enough to make it more than worth the read. I feel as though I've picked up some pointers about how to write certain psychological profiles reading it. Yesterday I started Richard Yates' Revolutionary Road, which most will become familiar with as the movie coming out this fall that reunites Leonardo DiCaprio with Kate Winslet. Sam Mendes is directing it and the material feels right up his alley - a 50's suburbanite couple yearns to break out of the mold that "settling down" has trapped them within. Pretty interesting stuff so far, but it's definitely a guy's narrative.

My apartment still smells like paint. I'm trying to get rid of it once and for all using fresh air and vinegar.

Though I follow politics, I don't usually talk about them, but I can't resist this. Out of the mouth of Stephen Harper, the Prime Minister of Canada:

"I think when ordinary working people come home, turn on the TV and see a gala of a bunch of people at, you know, a rich gala all subsidized by taxpayers claiming their subsidies aren't high enough, when they know those subsidies have actually gone up – I'm not sure that's something that resonates with ordinary people."

The Conservative government cut $45 million from arts programs in the latest move to cripple the arts community in Canada, after proposing to censor Canadian films, and THIS is his rationale? You know what this boils down to? Harper thinks that "ordinary" people don't care about art. Artists aren't "ordinary" Canadians, trying to make a living, because they're spending all of their enormous subsidies on galas. Galas. What the fuck planet is this guy on? In what eleventh province can I turn on a television and get pissed at all of the never-ending GALA coverage that's being slammed in my face at my, the taxpayer's, expense? Idiot. Moron.

What pisses me off is that many Conservative voters will totally support Harper's viewpoint, assuming that money is going towards something their kid could paint instead of towards their kids' hospital bills. Culture keeps civilization running. It's what allows parents to feel BAD about their sick kids. If you make it impossible for artists to thrive, this country will become cold and sterile. You're talking about the end of humanity in humans. It's not a tenuous link.

Okay.

Yesterday Andrea, Sarah and I had dinner at the diner and walked up Elgin in search of ice cream. We popped into a couple of bakeries. It struck me during our quest that there are a lot of places in Ottawa I've never seen, little cafes and such that are hidden inside these faceless buildings that all sort of blend into one another. I'm intrigued to start checking out some new places because it might give my impression of Centretown a bit of a facelift. Not that I don't love it here.

They're starting to pave Bank Street, patching the violent holes that have been gaping since the spring. It's looking far less apocalyptic. Walking down the middle of the street instead of using the sidewalks always produces a surreal feeling in me.

It's gorgeous outside today. My absolute favorite kind of weather, and time of year in general. The very end of summer, the very beginning of autumn. Nothing beats it. I moseyed on over to the elections "office," the Metropolitan Bible Church on Bank Street, and updated my registration. All of the pews had been taken off the floor, mounted by cords at the front, and replaced with desks and computers. Separation of church and state... er, province.

I was going to buy a box of Halloween candy but opted for cookies as the really good stuff hasn't come out yet. Which means that I can afford diner. This is what not working does. It forces me into thinking that I'm making significant compromises, when all I'm doing is chipping off a little bit more from the money in my account. There will come a day when I'm working full time, paying off my loan, not paying the slightest amount of attention to problems such as poutine vs. 75 miniature chocolate bars.

RANDOM TRIVIA: The deepest hole ever dug into the earth is only 40,226 feet deep, just over seven and a half miles, and took 22 years to complete. That's only about 0.096% of the way across Earth's diameter. It's called the Kola Superdeep Borehole, and it's located on the Kola Peninsula in Russia. That's deeper than the deepest natural point on the planet, the Mariana Trench in the Pacific Ocean, which is located between Japan and New Guinea and has been measured at different depths averaging around 36,000 feet.

Another fun fact: Earth is not a perfect sphere. It's wider at the equator than it is between the poles. Holy crow!