Stuff I Like - November

Me and two of my BFFs - Jason and Kevin (not my cat - see below)

1) My friends.

OK, OK - I know it's sappy but man, did I ever miss all of my friends.

I traveled for a long time, met a ton of amazing people (here is one of their awesome blogs) and had a lot of late night beer (and in Australia, wine) fueled conversations, and yet here back in my home city I have the funniest, happiest, most intelligent and let's face it - good looking - group of pals any gal could ever ask for. I just wanna hug the hell out of all of them and never leave again.

(See what I just said there about not leaving ever again? We all know that is a lie, but I can pretend. For now.)

Ms. Beatrix Fruitbat. As someone asked me last night "Well, for miss and mizz what is the difference between the S and the Z?"
I deadpanned "Um, the difference is like Zebra versus Sebra. Um, duh?"

2) My cats.

I realized something recently - I never talk to you guys about my cats. And that's weird - because I pretty much talk about them all the time. I am an official crazy cat lady. I have had Mister Kevin (Kevin for short) and Beatrix Fruitbat (Trixie) for 6 years next month and as irritating as it is to clean their litter box and shove angry clawing cats into carriers for their annual vet check up I am smitten. It's gross. I talk to them all high pitch-y and do that thing pet owners do when we ask our animals a series of questions: "What are you doing? Whatcha doin' Mr Muffin Monkey Pants? I love you! You're a lover, arentcha? Are you a lover?" (This is an actual exchange Kevin and I had this morning.) I'll be the first to admit that cats can be kind of shitty pets (they are not 'aloof' and 'intelligent' they just have small brains) but I am happy with my guys. I'm just waiting for them to finally answer all those questions I keep asking....

3) The Rickshaw Theatre

There is always something about the worst, crackiest neighbourhoods in a city that attracts hipsters and artists. My city has the worst skidrow in North America (no, seriously. Yeah, we have socialized medicine and decriminalized marijuana and are all liberal and shit, but we aren't like, Sweden. We have problems.) and it lies smack dab in the middle of the most historic and special area of the city, spilling over into touristy Chinatown and even touristier Gastown - it's not uncommon to see horrified groups of cruise ship passengers shielding their children's eyes from the sight of junkies shooting up next to jib-dancing sex trade workers. Like, at 11am. The buildings are spectacular, the cobble stone streets are charming and the businesses of what was once Vancouver's healthy, bustling shopping district have closed - yet slowly gentrification is setting in. People who look like me want to go to shows and restaurants and dive bars in the "Downtown Eastside" and some shrewd business people have recognized the humongous money making potential of catering to us.

For years my friends and I have ironically slummed it at hip hop nights at the Columbia and Astoria and slammed pints of beer at the comically named Funky Winkerbeans - but I have never seen such an ambitious restoration as the Rickshaw Theatre (took me a while to get here - to the point - but I did.) Formerly a chopsocky kung fu theatre in the seventies, this theatre has been gutted and beautifully restored into a rocknroll venue - a night club with theatre seating rather than tables. Half of the seats have been removed to all for more milling around room, and the gently sloping floor allows for shorty-pantses like me to actually see the stage. I love it. And I love the fact that sometimes all it takes is one revitalized space in an area to kick off a renaissance. Vive le Jank.

I am actually blushing right now.

4) Neil Diamond

It just is. Lately I can't stop myself from repeatedly pressing play on the sweet sounds of the Jewish Elvis. I actually have seen Neil in concert (as well as Nearly Neil once) and I could hardly keep myself from throwing panties at the stage, although I was with my Grandma at the time, and trust me - I was too busy holding her back to have time to do so...

There is something so amazingly innocuously sexy about seventies Neil -well here, snuggle up with this. You'll be glad you did.

No, seriously. Go see it.

5) Precious

You know how some years there is a movie that everyone is like "Oh, yes - you simply must see and if you don't you are a cretin and I don't even want to know you?"
Well, this time they are right..... I emerged from the theatre after seeing this film feeling raw and gutted, my face red and my eyes puffy. I was afraid to speak words to my friend Alexis for fear that I would do that sputtering thing and just lose it right there in the lobby. Precious doesn't go for obvious tear jerking - it is fresh and original and really, really disturbing.
"I feel like I have been to war" I remarked to my friends when I could finally speak. And I'll put this here on the record: if Mo'Nique does not win the Best Supporting Actress Oscar I will never watch them again. And I like, LOVE the Oscars.... Serious. Go see this movie.


(PS - I am aware that this is being posted in December - won't happen again. Pinkie swear.)