True Urban Legends

"ok, pornohead! I'M overeasy, you'll have your eggs overhard!"

i know i'm going to have a good day when: a) i wake up at 6:15 well rested, b) i finish my screen play proof before 9:30 c) the waiter at the breakfast place we go to makes the above comment to me.

j'aime le village in the autumn. i am sure that i will love it at any time, but the fall in montreal is officially the most beauty-full time ever, anywhere. hands down. i've always been a big fan of fall (b-day and all) but this year, it is absolutely magnificent.

and le village by morning sun is just as good as it is the night before, not at all coyote ugly. (still have my arms, no gnawing...)

since i'll be hanging out there more by default, here are a few of my favorite spots already. first off: the 24 hour "dvd entrepot". not only is it fabulous, it's classically named. the selection is amazing, the staff is wonderful, there are ugly dolls abound and bears dressed up as your favorite movie stars, children's movies next to the porn, and chocolate covered toffee macadamia nuts for under $3 a bag (the regular naked nuts are usually at least $15 for the same amount). the best part, the last thursday of every month, all the videos are a dollar and you can keep them all for 5 days. we got the bbc version of The Office. freaking hilarious. "cock".

(the best is when I tried that out, and got hit back with a return call saying "cocktease".)

i wanted some calamari like it was nobody's bizness last nite, so we went into this swanky little resto, nice lights and mirrors, fancy decor and a mix of fine dining and sushi bar. the squid was nice, the tzaziki was a bit thick, but the organic greens were delicately and perfectly tossed with a honey mustard vinaigrette. yum. i forgot its name, but there were dudes sucking face everywhere around it, so we'll just call it "heaven".

i was just about to go into the "frip frap" but i had to go to worky work. alas and alack, another day......

i've had the strangest feeling...(huu yeah)

 i've had problems with focus when it comes to routine. i'm off and running with the new, which isn't really that new, rather just the real manifestations of what i want to achieve.

bon. enough existentialisms (it's funny to hear a Mexican student wax verbose in French class about Kierkagaard but still.) y'all will see my complete video empire soon enough, i'm recording faster than they can edit. shoutout to MY ninja turtle Ra...who doesn't have love for someone who's willing to film you then spend hours with your reels..though i'd love to see my cutting room floor. today begins my travel series. gotta have some lunch.

i've also been working behind the scenes, i just saw the proof of my new biz cards coming to match my new position as "music editor/east coast correspondant" of Ricepaper and i got my own "corporate" email address...whoo....i've been hired for the contract of next month's production by the Black Theatre Workshop, which will be a fat one because it's every day for three weeks, and "ma cours de francais" is moving along swimmingly.

the most exciting news of today though, is this:

http://www.shotgunreviews.com/reviews/music/hiphop/bahamadia_queen.html

uh huh. i've kept it under wraps, but now that it's out and up, i'm yelling it from the mountain top.

 dear hip hop, i'll love you 'till i die. and when i get the chance to chat with my American Idols, i'm reminded of why.

peace, love, and hairgrease.

Left Eye RIP. 

i figured that i should update, since i was told 3 days ago, "yeah, it's been like, 4 days already", since i put up a new post. but lest you start thinking that i'm blogging out of obligation and not due to event, you are very wrong.

i'm back at the gallery, my first real shift opening by myself, and due to the rain, not a lot of people have been through (i've counted 5 since we-in the royal sense i guess-opened at noon, it's ten to five now) wow, that was a plethora of horrible punctuation trapped in a bracket. also, because of the rain, i was not given a ride to work on a motorcycle, as promised, poo. but i have had the place mostly to myself, and showed up a little earlier because i wanted to play the piano. i miss anastesia. i miss all my friends/family but i do not miss vancouver. that's right and y'all can keep your rain too, bring on the winter already!!!

i'm officially on a probationary contract with a local filmmaker here to do some script writing, we'll see soon enough and i just cut a video that was aptly described as "bagelpalooza". i can't wait to see it. in the meanwhile, i have a vietnamese translation video up at www.watchmojo.com.

school has been phenomenal, i'm on the up and up on the latest mexican slang. my teacher may be my landlord in 2011, and i just narrowly missed my chance to go on a field trip to the recycling factory. it's almost official that i am the east coast correspondant for Ricepaper, and i'm currently reading Raf's student guide (for Vice). i haven't read it yet, but there's a part about being a guinea pig for experiments, though i think it's aimed more towards the "come in and we'll pay you to do cocaine" set, while i stay with the spacebar pushing experiments and make my fortune ten bux at a time.

all this solitude has lead me to google myself and be impressed that at least the first 30 or so entries are solidly actually to do with my work, and from there, they filter in. it has also contributed to how ready i am to speak french tonite for the show because at this point, i'll talk to anyone.

t minus two hours until i put on my shirt and tie (immigration officer style) and walk around with authority, handcuffs, and a flashlight. and no, i still do not answer the phone.  but i have seen every single show of Sunk in the Trunk, a clown's journey through immigration and they have all been damn fine.

my observations on old skool r&b: 1) i had no idea that monica sampled jermaine jackson for "don't take it personal". all that's left is for her to jack janet, letoya and tito because she already borrowed p.y.t.

2) does anyone else cringe when listening to karen white sing about sour juice and herself in "superwoman"?

3) how i wish they made jams like this still: a)glamorous life by sheila e b) real love by jody watley and c) girlfriend by pebbles.

oh, and i'm with jimi on the first edition of VIBE with danyel smith back at the helms, brave choice of bobby brown as your cover boy, but it works.

for being pansies. really, we are the only nation in the world where people enlist in the army and never expect to fight. blame us for being fence sitters and American haters to a self-righteous degree. we're not really fooling anyone anymore (not even ourselves) when the things that make us "different" like our "tolerance" (Apartheid was modelled after the treatement of the indigenous folks here in the Great North) and our prized "medicare" (which is being privatized faster than our Southern cousins can annex our fresh water, gasoline and lumber) are proving themselves to be the shams that only denial can foster for so long.

blame us for lacking imagination to stand up to the elephant. now that we have a figurehead of our own, we're quickly reverting to the paranoia and extreme right-wing state that has been modelled to us. after all, it's much easier to scoff American Idol and America's Next Top Model but two years later when the "dissent" has gone down, rehash our own versions in order to catch a nickel off the proven millions.

which is not to say that there are not many, many people out there doing their thing and making their contributions to the world in a different way, but let's not forget that they exist in the United States as well. fuck the Michael Moores and the Naomi Kleins for oversimplifying and falling into reflecting the same tired rhetoric that they purport to be against. have you seen Michael Moore in interviews? he's an asshole and the epitome of a "stupid white man". this shone through especially when he was talking to our national treasure, Nardwuar, who, zany as the muthafucka is, is actually extremely well-researched and has talked to Chretien and Gorbachev on a real level, as well as Rahzel and Snoop Dogg on a whole 'nother level.

what i am going to assert here, in wake of the tragedy at Dawson yesterday, is that what is different about us as a nation is that WE DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO BEAR ARMS. that shit is not in our constitution. our troops never died for the inherent right to be violent. that's not to say that canadian hands are not good and bloody, but for the most part, we are not yelling from mountain tops that we deserve to have guns in our homes, guns around our children, guns as cultural markers, guns for "protection", guns, guns, guns and more muthafucking guns.

the truth is, we have so little experience with guns, that it always ends up being a fucking catastrophe when they are shot. i have pride for this, and though i'm not religious, if there was ever a cause that was prayer worthy, this is it. i pray that we will realize that since we don't know how to use guns, that we will just give them up. use your words, people, they are mightier every time. let's not forget that our institutions also do not know what the hell to do when people shoot eachother, and all kinds of hell and drama ensue when the police and government and schools try to deal and pick up the pieces.

to any fuckface that is too much of a coward to live, suicide/massacre will put you out in a blaze, but it's far from glory and the effects will burn all of us for longer that you deserve to be remembered. stop the global warming.

the fact that this cat was south asian paints a bleak situation for canada because it delivers another fatal blow to "multiculturalism" in canada. like the sharia law and backlash in toronto wasn't enough, now, under our own puppet regime, we have our own september event to "remember". let the profiling begin and the patriot act pass.....(sigh). just when i ruled out moving to Trinidad.... 

so my first day at the gallery went pretty well, i built a small boat for a 4 year old and watched bow wow videos with him. there were a few people walking through, but i think the sound of the exhibit was scaring them away. that and montrealers are scared of the rain. psshaaaw! is my response as a vancouverite.

the birthday celebration continued with a traditional persian meal and a homemade cake. i can't say that 27 has been too shabby of an age as yet. :)

the streets were closed off today for the marathon, and it was a gorgeous day to scoot around, despite the fact that i was doing it as a functional zombie. i had a brief nap this afternoon, and awoke ravenous for meat.

dinner happened wandering around the Mile End (curses to everyone who closes on sunday and monday, namely that perogy place i've been trying to go to forever!) Bernard and St.Viateur are charming streets, but it's hard to come to a consensus. after going past the plant lady with 13 kids living/working in the 24hr depanneur, we decided to have a sandwich with some lovely little potatoes, and it was very satisfying. (the chicken looks nice, but i had the sausage).

next up was a walk to Little Italy to a coffee shop where there's gangster pictures on the wall and old men smoking and playing cards, not a place to bring a date, but a mean cafe latte for two bucks. we tried to go into the church with Mussolini on the ceiling, but it was closed. Marche Jean-Talon ended up being the winner and i spent too much money on peaches and nectarines, but oh well.

back to school tomorrow, and then it's time to catch up on my work and start getting into little boy's hockey. let's hope it's not as rowdy as i got in new york this summer. 

i listed it as my tag on gmail, but it has become a self-fulfilling prophesy.

first the video, then the job score at the MAI (www.m-a-i.qc.ca), then i find out that the letter to the editor i wrote to the Mirror made it in, so i can honestly claim that i'm on the first page of the weekly! print, web, n'importe quoi, local and beyond, i am leaving my mark.

i suppose i am really settling in here in my new city. mu-hahahahahaha.

call me a superstitious asian, but it can never hurt to get consecutive red envelopes in the mail.

georgia lee's film Red Doors opens tonite in NYC (check www.ricepaperonline.com for my review) and through charm and quick connex, i managed to score an advanced copy, and it's really worth seeing so do look out for it. the best was their press kit in the giant red folder (yeah, people who respect the press and let their press kit be a source of creativity showing off)

the next was a wedding invitation from my lovely friend (the only one left in Victoria, i believe) LL all fancy and traditional chinese-y, almost giving me a heart attack for a minute, thinking she was going to move her entire wedding party to hong kong.

before i go any further, i have to give a big shoutout to the paella valencia (seafood, chorizo, chicken) at la salla rosa for being awesome. it's too bad about your comrades the buckwild pancakes, but perhaps we'll hook up next lifetime.

also, to the ancient lady who hangs out in the redpath computer lab, you rock for saying "but how do you know i'm not a thief?" when i asked you to guard my station a couple weeks ago when i had to "fais un peepee".

my transpo of choice these days is my foot scooter, flinstone style, bitches! and i thought the bike paths would be too scary, by next spring i'll be on a lowrider for sure. for now, i'm working out my calves, and it's more of a conversation piece anyway.

i might be able to get a metropass after all, since i have an official plastic student ID from my current school, L'ecole Saint Louis, the best school ever! my spanish is going to be better than ever now that i'm in an intense french class with a majority mexican student body. there's an older vietnamese gentleman, so i practise the native tongue with him, and a girl from japan (www.watchmojo.com to see moi in my translation video debut. i don't know how long i'll be on the front page but it's worth the search)

my teacher is the shit. he's funny and smart and anybody who is going to close class yesterday and open it today with lessons on sheesha (hooka) and merits of humid tabacco, bring me a cake, and bust out in song is number one in my books!

though i hate the maggot-like clusters of Mcgillers (i'm sure that like the products at Lush, one on one they're very nice, but all together, they're overwhelming and obnoxious), I LOVE BACK TO SCHOOL. maybe i just love school. even if it's the school of life. i can't wait for frosh to be over, though i did get accosted by the coloured lights and participated in a boatride (chugging juice) on my scooter, but dammit, my team won.

i'm at a crossroads with my writing, but there are exciting things in the horizon. i also got a job, but we'll save that for next time, because we're heading towards sensory overload levels right about now. well, at least i am, and i'm the bday girl, dammit (ok, two days ago, but...!) CAKE. here's to having it AND eating it too.

i was feeling you when you said that you "want that old underground back, the kind you used to rock to with your backpack" and your dj as well as your guitar player and the south asian drumming was dope, the only thing that didn't do justice for just us was YOU.

not that you really moved me the first time i saw you either, in fact, i had forgotten that i had seen you live before, but to your credit, it was the second show in victoria that i saw you at, at Legends, the world's worst venue in terms of sightlines, acoustics, everything (someone explain why Maceo Parker plays there every freaking year, please?) and the first show was the best one to see you at, at what was then Lucky (best big venue sound with small venue intimacy). 

and not without props to Lefthip (www.lefthip.com-bigups if you find me) for the media pass to half of Osheaga, but like Killa Kela, i still wanted my money back.

there's a rumour floating around that you started drinking, and that's why you stop thinking on stage, but whatever the explanation, i am not amused.

there's no excuse to go so far out of your tree that you can't even remember your own set list. here's a hint, if everyone else in the band is like glue, and you're the only one who's off, it's YOU. don't forget your own lyrics, freestyle extremely badly, obnoxiously yell "SONIC YOUTH" and push over keyboards and expect any revenue to be generated from my pockets. (sigh). emcee murdah? i think that was some emcee suicide right there...

but on a lighter note, i finally found a Montreal based hip hop group to be excited about: Nomadic Massive. DJ Waahli was a very accomodating host during his usual Friday nite at Korova, though he rubbed some salt into my wounds when he played "Funky For You" on the night I publically broke up with Common Cent$. he made up for it though, by passing me their press kit wrapped up like a diploma. all signs are pointing to me going back to school! 

meeting R.K. was a true Montreal urban legend, for real. that and the "minime" at the Club Social. I dunno, I think I need to find my own coffee shop to lurk in, maybe not on St. Viateur at all, but I'll have to check out Esperanza, just not on Monday when it seems that everything in Montreal happens to be closed or broken. we did end up at Patati Patita though, and that was cool, because I've always wanted to check that place out.

Updates: I am not in the doc (whew!) and my flops were lost and replaced by the filmmakers, we have officially lost photog extraordinnaire May Truong to the Dot (but yippee for another reason to send Toronto some love!) and I am enrolled in the intensive French class, slipping in in niveau 3.

I also started scooting around town Flinstone styles and it's even sweeter now that i discovered the back break. Montreal's got some hellabad roads, I see an average (mean or median) of 3 folks trip a week, and I'm not talking about a little stumble, it's full out tripping.

I had a bbq! But we ran out of gas, I guess we'll have to get some this coming weekend because it's the b-day weekend and I intend to celebrate for as long as possible. I will also rethink my spending on bubbletea, because I made some of that too for the first time.

I just have a small wonder (like Vicky) about the use of initials, whether in email or real life. What's with that? and the capitalization/intentional small letters of names? how bell hooks is that?

And why the shit is it so freezing in the arts computer lab at McGill? And why is this place so terrifying when the students are here? Grrrr...ok, gotta salvage my flanges turned icicles....mame. 

no, i'm not moving there, but i have to say i keep meeting wonder-full folks from there!

this blog will be dedicated to susanna ferreira and her lackeys :).

so, lemme tell you about shorty who hit me up on the myspace with all kinds of nice things to say and it turns out that she's this writer extraordinnaire herself, so i'm all kinds of excited to be her cyber-friend.

then she goes on a cross-country adventure and when you see the places that you think are beauty-full in your city through the flickring eyes of someone else, you can't help but get a little misty and miss vancity just a lil' bit.

so, when asked why montreal was omitted on the trip, you have to force the girl to make use of her ticket that's already paid for.

what ensues next? trolling for pupusas for another vancouver refugee, mac mistresses, hogging photo ops, and my favorite, singing through the street party, r&b revival! "i get soo weak in the knees i can hardly speak, i lose all control and something takes hold of me, in a daze you look so amazing it's not a phase i want you to stay with me by my side i follow my pride your love is so sweet it knocks me off of my feet, can't explain why your lovin' makes me weak" damn. how did they do this in one breath?

good thing we had a kickass breaky to start the day at 4pm!

Me: "i don't know how to dance to this music"

Shoe: "just shake"

werd.

special shoutout to my girl Shadi, down ass chica who sang to every freakin' TLC, MJB, Xscape and Jodeci, Dru Hill, Blackstreet, New Edition and Teddy Riley jam that we unearthed, let's not forget about En Vogue and Toni Tony Tone!