Oh Heck

How did I forget how gross the inside of dreads are?

To anyone whose face has ever been close to the back of my head, I'm so sorry.

I think I like myself best when I've had very little sleep, especially if that spreads out over the course of a few days. I find myself more creative, more productive, and less hesitant.

Last night I stayed up until 1am re-learning how to knit on double-pointed needles (fingerless gloves- I WILL master you this winter!), listening to a mix that Steve made me (I am getting an education in emo). This morning I got up in time for the food bank (around 7:30am), read a bunch of short stories, brought home excessive amounts of food, made my dad a mix cd, wrote some e-mails, and now I'm CUTTING OFF ALL OF MY HAIR.

It's ok, it's been a long time coming. I know I wrote an in-depth post a while back about how sentimental my dreads are and how I could never sacrifice them, but to be perfectly honest I've just gotten bored with them. I have the rest of my life to commit to sentimental hair stylings, for now I just want to be creative and spontaneous and shit.

Pics once the process is complete.... maybe. I'm doing this by feel and haven't looked in a mirror yet, so maybe I'll be super crushed by the results and not let anybody see my head for the next six months.

On an unrelated topic, is it normal to want to keep in touch and correspond with someone, but never ever ever ever want to see them again?

one two three four ONETWOTHREEFOUR!

The show tonight was awesome!

I took lots of photos, but I've decided to not post show photos/video/reviews here anymore.

This is because my amazing room mate/best friend Ryley has started up a new blog that is specifically for this purpose!

It's called D.I.Y Halifax, and although it's very new and there's not much going on currently, I expect it to start thriving in the next few weeks. We've all got lots of shows and projects coming together, and my dedication to taking blurry, slightly yellow-tinged photos of my friends playing music is unwavering. So check the new blog frequently to learn about upcoming shows, or to relive the old ones.

I'm still going to be updating this blog of course, it will just be more of the inane daily work/home/pets/friends/relationship shit, and probably the occasional babbling introspective journeys.

Stay warm!

make a sad, sad song

Ruckus is, for the most part, back to normal.

She still looks like a cow-print floor lamp for now, but her bandages are off and her incision is clean and healing. It's still another week and half before she gets her stitches out, and I still have to give her antibiotics twice a day, but she's in a noticeably better mood.

She purrs, cuddles, and tries (and fails) to jump on things, just like she used to.

In cooler news, Mistake Makers (the best band ever) is playing their (our) first show ever tonight. Of the 6 people that "follow" this blog, 2 actually live in Halifax, and one of those 2 is in the band with me. So... at least there's one person guaranteed to be there.

Tell yer friends, come dance your faces off at the purple house on North street!

this is breaking my heart

I just brought Ruckus home from the vet, once again. After another surgery, she now has an e-collar, and a massive bandage around her waist.

As soon as I let her out of her carrier, she started flailing around and bucking. It's like she has no control of her body. She rolled over, and I could see the bottom of her incision poking out from under the bandage, which has fresh blood on it. I called the vet to ask about this, and now they want me to bring her back so they can look at it.

This will be the fourth vet visit in a week and I can't fucking take any more. I can't even stand looking at her.

This is why no one should have a pet. Why did we ever start fucking with domesticating animals?

If Laurie had gotten Lt. Dan fixed, I wouldn't be dealing with this now. If his co-worker had gotten her cat fixed, there would be a lot fewer cats in Halifax.

I am not ready for this shit. It is a damn good thing I can at least afford it.

Field Trip

Well, I quit the Indian take-out job. It wasn't a bad job, it was just boring as hell. Also, I definitely can't swing the whole two jobs at once thing, and the second job I got is SO. MUCH. COOLER.

Not only do I get to wear a sweet black chef's jacket (I'm sure many people would not deem this a perk, but it makes me look so bad ass, especially paired with the dread-mullet-hawk), but the staff is amazing (the servers are hilarious and brilliant, the chef is a rad young lady, and the whole place is owned by a really inspiring older queer woman), the food is great, and we get to go on FIELD TRIPS!

Apparently this happens once a month, so for our November trip we went down to Lunenburg county to meet some folks who have a certified organic vineyard, and are going to be supplying the restaurant with organic garlic.

LOCAL ORGANIC GARLIC CAN YOU TELL THAT I AM EXCITED!

The farm wasn't overly impressive since it's, like, winter, but the couple was incredibly friendly and really excited to meet us and tell us everything about their operation. Apparently their grapes are sold to L'Acadie winery and they get turned into $40 bottles of brut. Fancy!

Grape vines, sadly bare. They told us grapes prefer south-facing slopes.

They're going to turn that shed into a sugar shack!

Organic wine, maple syrup, and garlic. everything a person needs.

Spooky old barn, with spooky old tools.

Spooky fuckin' chain collection.

Spooky carriage!

I managed to snag a bulb of the garlic and cooked with it when I got home, it was so amazing. I'm going to use one or two more cloves (probably just to eat raw since I'm definitely getting a cough) and then I'm going to plant the rest. Someone told me that garlic takes 2 years to mature, but apparently that isn't the case? Whatever! If I get one plant, I'll be very excited.

seriously fuck november

A bad night is:

-Getting locked out of the apartment, late at night, with just a hoodie for outer wear.

-Not being welcome in the apartment upstairs, so unable to hang out until my room mates get home

-Not feeling comfortable at the only other house I usually go to

-Finally getting into the apartment and realizing that my cat's incision from getting spayed is bleeding

-Taking a cab to my mom's house, picking up her car, and driving to the emergency animal hospital in Burnside (getting lost on the way) at 2am.

-Hearing from the vet that Ruckus' condition was "pretty awful" and that she needs an e-collar, anti-biotics, and surgery.

-Paying for afore-mentioned e-collar and anti-biotics

-Crying in the corner of my bedroom because somehow my cat managed to slip out of her collar and I had no idea how to put it back on her and she was terrified and wouldn't hold still and smelled really strongly of blood and I feel like a fucking failure.

I managed to get the collar back on, and she's finally settled down, but I don't know for how long. Also, she's sleeping on my blankets which are in a heap, so I'd have to move her to use them. Maybe I'll just sleep without blankets tonight.
I have to take her to her usual vet first thing on monday morning, which really fucking sucks because that means I'll have to miss the "field trip" that my work is taking. Instead of going to the south shore and planting garlic for an organic vineyard (I've been looking forward to this since my interview), I'm going to take my cat to get cut open again because I'm a terrible pet owner.

To make matters worse, it's been exactly one year and one day since everything went to shit last year. Maybe I'm cursed to have shit fall apart mid-november?

tradition

Last night, while I was taking photos of the various bands, I was trying my hardest to keep the super blurry photos to a minimum. I don't really know what I'm doing, so I have a hard time getting clear photos of bands, especially in dark rooms (I hate flash) with artists that move a lot while they play.

Having said that, it's kind of a tradition for me to take super blurry pictures of Mogli playing. Here are some highlights.

South End Shed Show

There was a show tonight in what was originally referred to as a "shed". It was not a fucking shed! It had high ceilings and hanging lanterns and a wood stove and rugs!

In any case, it was an all right show. It went on forever, but people I love played the music that I love so I went and I sang along and, of course, took photos.

What nine punks look like, on a mission from the North end to the South.

Steve Believe wasn't initially part of the lineup, but he's the best, so he played some tunes. It makes me a little sad that someone asked him to play a cover, since his original stuff is so good.

Tucker and Sam, playing Ash Cats covers... Kind of awkward.

They're talented, but it was a weird choice.

Saiyen Yendall, first time I've actually seen her play.

Really neat guitar stuff, wish she sang a little bit more confidently.

Lis. Very cute songs, but I really don't have the attention span anymore.

The Rumble Strips! One of the best new bands on the scene.

Steve decided he wanted to be "punk", so he stole my vest...

Mogli. Actually played some songs tonight I didn't know all the words to.

I'm slipping as her number one fan!

Ryley and Steve aren't a band, they're just the most adorable people on the planet.

Snail Party (+ Steve)

powerful, great tunes, great friends, super photogenic.

That was my night, now I'm sitting around the kitchen table with Kelly, Sonny, and Jawsh. Eating icecream and talking about art school.

Work in the morning, then a date, then band practice, then the first weekly OrFUNage night (room mate board games). Great weekend, IMHO.

smoky bacon fume

Ok, so I don't normally write about food because I find it triggering and stupid, but HOLY SHIT, I just made coconut bacon!

Bacon! Out of coconut!

I've had it before, from a restaurant in Montreal called Au Vivre, and it was super fucking delicious. Today I discovered that I have access to pretty much all the unsweetened coconut in the world, so I figured it was about time to give it a go.

I threw in a bunch of smoked paprika, salt, liquid smoke, and oil, and then toasted it in a frying pan until it was browned, and now I'm eating it on a sandwich with red onion, avocado, soynaise, and jalapeño* havarti.

Eating the best sandwich, listening to some of my favorite people have band practice in the next room, being done work for the day at 3pm.

Feeling pretty good!

*My spell check corrected "jalapeno" to include the squiggly** thing! Neat!

**Apparently "squiggly" is a real word, according to the same spell check!

bag O' milk

Today is my cat's first birthday! Even though sometimes I make fun of her intelligence or her girth, I really love her a lot. She's very sweet, and will usually sleep with me at night, sometimes under the covers. I remember tearing up the first time I ever heard her purr.

I took her to the vet this week so she could catch up on all her vaccinations, and next week I'm taking her back so she can get spayed. I really should have taken care of this sooner, but I lucked out and she's never really been outside long enough to get preggers.

There are definitely times when I realize how bad of an idea it is for young punks to have pets. I love Ruckus to pieces, but I really haven't been financially stable enough to take care of her (my mom, who referred to herself as "grandma", is footing the bill for Ruckus' medical shit). I also feel like a huge jerk whenever I go away long enough for my room mates to have to take care of her.

Oh well, regardless I'm still looking forward to many more years with her.

Happy birthday, bag of milk!