Posts in category "Daily Life"

second show

I was sup­posed to hang out with Jesse last week­end. We were going to jam and talk and throw around ideas, and I was real­ly look­ing for­ward to it because we always seem to be doing some­thing when we’re togeth­er instead of just chill­in.

See, it’s right here on his sched­ule, between Floors and Dinner.

Jesse's schedule

Unfortunately, I devel­oped my annu­al case of strep throat that day and had to stay away from every­one.

Then, on Friday as I was going back through our e‑mail cor­re­spon­dence, I real­ized that Jesse invit­ing me to play ukulele meant play­ing a house par­ty on Saturday. We met up about two hours before we were on and had a very quick rehearsal to work out some parts with­out Nic being able to back us up, as well as extra bits and pieces of songs I fig­ured out over the week. Being so rushed was prob­a­bly a good thing; it kept my mind off the ner­vous­ness.

Turns out it was an out­door gig play­ing to a group of hip­sters at a bar­be­cue, and we were open­ing. It did­n’t go ter­ri­bly well. At one point in the mid­dle of Write Protected I screwed up the strum­ming so bad­ly that we had to stop the song and restart, but we quick­ly picked up on a count of four and went on with­out anoth­er hitch. Jesse remarked that it was good prac­tice for next time, because prob­lems come up that you nev­er think of when you’re in a new envi­ron­ment.

This time it was a tun­ing peg that some­how got knocked in the mid­dle of the set. I only dis­cov­ered this once the song had start­ed — and I was the only one play­ing so I could­n’t stop. It must have been off by an entire semi-tone cause it total­ly messed up my sens­es and I had a hard time telling if I was even play­ing the right chords. It was also night by the time our set end­ed, and I had a hard time see­ing the frets, which only added to the con­fu­sion.

Note to self: strum once to before each song to make sure the instru­ment is in tune.

I did, how­ev­er, learn from the last show to bring a side-table to use as a step­ping stool. Usually, I sit when prac­tic­ing, but at the 160 Workshops show I had to stand; not being used to the pos­ture meant I was con­stant­ly adjust­ing the uke in the arm between vers­es and com­ing in late in the bar as a result. I brought a lit­tle Ikea side-table this time, and it worked real­ly well.

Even with all the glitch­es, as rushed and under-rehearsed as we were, it was a fan­tas­tic time and a great expe­ri­ence.

The next set was in the base­ment, with a girl and guy look­ing like they were kids dressed up and pre­tend­ing to be Ziggy Stardust, singing to gener­ic elec­tron­i­ca. And peo­ple were lov­ing it in their slow-nod­ding, hip­ster kind of way, although the weed and booze may have helped (Audra would lat­er remark to me that it was hard to tell how into it peo­ple were cause of how cool every­one was try­ing to act).

I also missed see­ing a very drunk Tina cor­ner Jesse. I could total­ly see this being her scene.

Pizza with girls

Check out Audra sport­ing her styl­ish Hurley cap.

Jesse was being inter­viewed lat­er that night and also want­ed to stay to see Matt play, so the girls and I head­ed to grab a bite to eat. Audra bought us all piz­za and drinks at a near­by pizze­ria, which had the BEST CRUST I’ve ever tast­ed.

Before the end of the night, in a good mood and feel­ing safe, I admit­ted to Em my crush on her boyfriend. She took it well.

Friends from France

Frédéric and Misun were briefly in Canada. They went on a short cruise with Misun’s par­ents and made a quick stop in Ottawa so nat­u­ral­ly I took the chance to see them. It was a love­ly evening for a bar­be­cue and eat­ing out in the sun.

It’s so inter­est­ing to hear about every­thing they’re doing with their lit­tle art gallery stu­dio, adding to my excite­ment of vis­it­ing them in a few months.

Greetings

Seeing the new baby. Mommy bare­ly looks like she was preg­nant, and Frédéric looks like he’s been eat­ing well in France.

watching Miric

Miric tests out the paper air­plane launch­er I bought the boys. It was one of the few non-vio­lent toys I could find in Toys R Us.

Continue read­ing “Friends from France”…

you got to hold on

I have all this stuff I mean to write but when it comes to typ­ing it out, it seems point­less. I don’t mind feel­ing this way any­more. I’d much rather come off as wit­ty or inter­est­ing, but I can set­tle for hon­est.

My pol­i­cy nowa­days is to act the way I feel. Instead of try­ing to cater to oth­er peo­ple or fit into social norms, I do what I want. It takes some trust in myself to believe that I’m gen­er­al­ly a good per­son, but every­thing seems to be work­ing in my favour.

bird

With anoth­er wed­ding booked next year, I was able to jus­ti­fy a new lens. The final one in my lens path: Canon’s 70–200mm f/2.8 IS II USM. It lets me take pic­tures like this.

I have some­thing major going on each month until December, at which point I’ll prob­a­bly her­ma­tize for three weeks until anoth­er round of hol­i­day crazi­ness.

I used to have Hold On by Tom Waits play­ing here.

The sum­mer has been warm and fuzzy, and it’s filled me with con­tent­ment. I don’t care about the future any­more. I’m liv­ing in this moment, and thank­ful it’s a nice one.

Fell in love with a beard at 160 Workshops

I could explain how awe­some this night was, but I think this beard speaks for itself.

It’s a cus­tom-made piece by Emily Comeau — named the Smirkin’ Merkin — and a pro­to­type for Jesse’s merch. As a per­son who’s nev­er even come close to hav­ing a beard, I want­ed to keep it SO BADLY even though it was brown and did­n’t match the cur­tains (or the car­pet, for that mat­ter). I wore it for the first song I played, but it got way too warm to keep on in a house full of peo­ple.

beard

 

Continue read­ing “Fell in love with a beard at 160 Workshops”…

The premature exit

Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.

I bare­ly stayed for two hours. It was­n’t the game (though it did prove to be as frus­trat­ing­ly ran­dom as I remem­ber it) or the peo­ple (who were quite nice and refresh­ing­ly intel­li­gent). When I told Jess, she said, “But it’s so ear­ly.” I just shrugged my shoul­ders. As an intro­vert, she under­stood.

Onegin: premature exit

 

Sometimes I won­der if I come off as an extreme­ly anti-social per­son. I tend to be the first one to leave par­ties, and some­times so ear­ly that the host will ask me if every­thing is alright. When it comes to being around peo­ple, I’m def­i­nite­ly a high-main­te­nance per­son. I’m much hap­pi­er in one-on-one sit­u­a­tions, and even more often I pre­fer being alone.

As much as I’ve grown and changed, I’ve always need­ed the world in small dos­es.