The work week is unfolding and I am making ready to retire the anniversary hashtag. But first–capsule reviews of the entertainment events:
Debra DiGiovanni – The Winter Garden was a trippy and cool place to see a show. As for the woman herself, she was… okay. A lot of her best material was stuff I’d seen in a 2006 Youtube video when I was checking her out. Her delivery has improved since then, but her timing remains a little rushed. Her openers were good and great, though. Good was Graham Chittenden. Great was Nile Séguin. It was a perfectly lovely evening, but we’d be more likely to go see one of the guys on his own than to try DD again.
London Road – This was stunning. Awesome, thought-provoking, and musically intriguing. Playwright Alecky Blythe recorded interviews with London Road residents about the discovery that one of their neighbors was a multiple murderer. The interviews were played for actors in a sort of aural script which they memorized sound for sound. And then, yeah, they set it to music. There was class stuff, and gender stuff, and all kinds of feminist politic all over this thing, and I am so glad I went.
Body Blitz – Taking the waters? Wow. I am kind of surprised that security guards aren’t even now trying to peel us out of the salt pool. Or the steam room. Or the sauna. Well, you get what I’m saying. Several of the women there were obviously regulars, and were soaking by themselves in the company of a good book.
It was a swanky week, with many of the delights you’d get in an actual trip out of town, but the added bonuses of 1) not missing the cat; 2) sleeping in your own bed. I love how much there is to do here.
I am back at work today, after five glorious anniversary staycation days with Kelly. We had so many lovely and celebratory experiences, and I hope to blog about them in days to come, but for now I’ll just say:
1) Yes, I’m back.
2) I’m a little behind, naturally, so if you’re waiting to hear from me, sorry. Just a little longer, okay?
3) Buffy Rewatch! “The Killer In Me.” Enjoy!
Yesterday I went prowling through our tickets and realized that I had not, in fact, bought tickets to see London Road on Saturday. No! I had bought them for Friday, which is also the evening of Debra DiGiovanni’s Late Bloomer performance.
The horrors! I hyperventilated for about an hour before I remembered that probably if I just phoned Canadian Stage and asked to change the theater tickets, they’d say yes. (Because, OMG, alyx, calm down.)
And in fact that’s just what we did. They were supernice about it, of course. The Canadian Stage guys, in case you’re all wondering, seem to have excellent customer service. One gets off the phone feeling as if you could ask them to swing by with a juggler, a pony, a dance troupe, Ian McKellan and someone to wash your windows and they’d be all: “Sure! Can we do anything else for you?”
Drama over drama aside, the anniversary staycation is coming along nicely. We had a stunning meal out Wednesday night, and we’re going back to AGO this morning to take in the Guggenheim exhibit again. Tonight is the stand-up comedienne, tomorrow the matinee, and after that I’m doing a photo shoot at the aquarium with the Instagram crowd.
As for Sunday, we’re going to the Royal Ontario Museum with one of our oldest friends and then hanging out with her all day. To cherry that sundae, we’re going to book a spa thing for Monday: it’s a “taking the waters” type bath circuit at Body Blitz.
As of today, I’ve been not-legally married to Kelly for 9,131 days or 25 years. (And legally married to her for ten and change.)
We got married at a pub event at the University of Lethbridge on January 21, 1989. The pub was hosted by the local NDP club, which meant all of our friends were pretty much in attendance by default, and said club was screening the Rocky Horror Picture Show. The lovely and much-missed Mirella Zappone conducted the service just before the RHPS wedding scene, and the attendees pelted us with rice.
Also, I fell into the men’s room in my wedding dress when trying to avoid a (water)gunfight.
The celebrating starts in earnest tomorrow night–tonight, we’re going to yoga. But it’s all so very exciting that I nearly forgot to post about the latest Buffy essay, “Wouldn’t you like to be a Slayer, too?”
Netflix Canada just got The Walking Dead, and Kelly and I blew through it over the holidays, polishing off the last of S3 when I came down with a cold last week.
I do agree with musician Kari Maaren that zombies are, as monsters go, rather boring. (Kari’s Tube of You channel is here; she hasn’t uploaded the zombie song yet.) I get the mindless mob metaphor, and I appreciate that The Walking Dead is digging into the whole question of how far will you go, in a disaster, to survive? Even so, I found the first season to be tough sledding. I didn’t care much for anyone but Glenn, and the story seemed to end very abruptly.
By the end of S2 I was, along with the rest of the universe as I understand it, happily on board with Team Daryl. And several of the other characters were, if not lovable, at least intriguing. And the story moves. I read a few “top 25 TV shows of 2013″ round-ups last week and one of ‘em put it this way: it isn’t always well-written, and it isn’t particularly well-directed, but by Gar this thing is entertaining.
The immense degree of arguing, violence, and should we feed Character X to the Walkers, or what? does get to be wearing, over time. The show probably doesn’t get any nastier than the Battlestar Galactica reboot, but it was beginning to have that same kind of cynical edge. But I was pleased with the wrap-up of S3–the situation they left everyone in–and am looking forward to taking a break, possibly a long one, before dipping into S4 at some undefined point in the future.
There’s this Violent Femmes song whose lyrics circle ’round this bit of text:
I built a machine; I took over the world.
(In one weekend)
I did it because I was looking for a project, and it was either take over the world or learn French.
So I took over the world, and next weekend, I can learn French.
Because this song exists and is stamped on my brain, I said to Kelly this week: “She’s obviously a take over the world or learn French person,” and she knew exactly what I meant.
This (largely unsingable) Violent Femmes video is brought to you by the Committee to have A&K be completely incomprehensible by the time they’re in the old folks home.
I’m up to “Showtime” on the Buffy Rewatch. It’s the one where Buffy jellifies the First’s pet ubervamp, the one who bested her a week before. Other things happen too: read all about it here.
I’ve kvetched elsewhere about having a cold: it isn’t bad, but it’s slowing me down and leaving me in various states out of sorts: sore, grumpy, tired, all the usual. Fortunately for me, Thug Notes has just explained Romeo and Juliet.
One of my UCLA Extension Writers’ Program students, Gail Labovitz, has a story up at Expanded Horizons: it’s called “Daughter of the Air” and if one were to vastly oversimplify, it’s a fractured retelling (or perhaps examination of) “The Little Mermaid.”
Gail drafted and workshopped this story for “Creating Universes, Building Worlds“, which by chance is the class I’m teaching as of next Wednesday. The course is full, but there is an option to join the wait list.