Storytelling – Rant and Roll

Go long. Go very long.

Okay friends.

Some things.

What a sports nut!

Yesterday Marc and I watched A LOT of football.

Now, this is great because I really like football, and I really like Marc, and because both teams that I wanted to win ended up proving victorious.

HOORAY!

Also, after watching eight million trailers for what I can only assume to be crappiest TV shows ever to grace the face of this planet, I am fairly certain that all programming on network television is just the crappiest dreck of life.

Oh my sweet goodness.

Seriously when did CBS (and its ilk) become vessels for such unbelievably epic crap?

Has they always been havens of television garbage?

(I am beginning to think yes. Yes they have.)

Also how many pseudo-serial killer crime shows can one world possibly sustain?

And who is naming these programs?

TOMORROW’S PEOPLE? WHO THE HELL WAS PAID TO COME UP WITH THAT IDIOCY?

…

Anywho, to get away from that on to what I really want to talk about – as we were watching the Broncos dismantle beautiful Brady and the New England Patriots, I started to feel some weeeeeeiiiiirrrrddd feelings.

Mostly, (and I really don’t know how to feel about this) I started to feel grown-up lady feelings for Peyton Manning.

WHAT THE WHAT.

I have had some strange crushes in my time, but I really feel like this one takes the cake.

My favourite thing to come out of this whole grim fandango is the following exchange between Marc and I:

CLASSIC.

And what can I say?

I am who I am.

And I like what I like.

(NERDS.)

All of us ladies.

I just started watching the first season of Girls (HBO programming for the win!) and I really, really like it.

I thought that I would hate it because everything that I’ve read about Lena Dunham has left me with a fairly sour taste in my mouth, and people just love to dump all over her and her writing, and her white-washed, privileged interpretation of what it means to be a young woman making a life for herself in Brooklyn (not to mention the fact that I feel like this is something we will continue to hear about ad nauseam even long after the show has left the airwaves) –

But again, what can I say?

I think it’s pretty darn hilarious.

Luckily for me, I cannot relate to much of anything that these four ladies are going through, but I am sure that there are some young women out there going through similar trials and tribulations suffered by Hannah and her posse each episode (and sweet Buddha help them all).

Are any of you folks watching?

What do you think?

Drop me a line and let me know.

Our voices, heard loud and clear.

So last night my great friend Chelsea co-hosted the Storytelling Show with me and we discussed a whole manner of things, including Youtube, smoking, house purchasing, novel publications, and Liam Neeson (amongst many, many others) and it was just such a rad, fun show that I would love to leave the link for you all if you care to have a listen.

At the very top of the page click to listen to the episode from January 19^th.

Laugh!

Love!

Enjoy!

…

So that’s all she wrote for this late-January Monday.

I hope you all had a brilliant weekend, and are facing the next four days in earnest.

And don’t worry.

It’ll be Friday in no time.

Straight to the point

Some snaps from around the block:

Tulips.

Smelling the flowers.

Morrocan eats.

Business cat.

Saturday morning.

I think I forgot to mention it earlier, but last Thursday I was a presenter at Rain City Chronicles. I told the story of my bonkers journey down the wedding aisle. It was a fabulous night of story and song, and I feel super honoured to have had the chance to contribute to this great Vancouver arts event.

In family news, this past weekend my sister came to town for an (all too brief) visit. I was so excited because on Friday she finally got to come see one of my gigs. It was the first time that she and her betrothed got to see me on stage, doing my joke thing.

I also got to interview her last night on Vancouver Co-op Radio. If you want to listen to the show, you can do so here.

This week it is much of the same – stand-up tomorrow and Wednesday, some volunteer work, and hopefully many opportunities to run about in the sunshine.

What about you all?

For my part, I hope all of you are awash in beauty and light.

Let’s have a chat

This past Sunday night I had the immense pleasure of interviewing Dr. Valerie Raoul on the Storytelling Show, the radio programme I host on Vancouver Cooperative Radio.

Short of interviewing Penny from Inspector Gadget, this is pretty much the closest I am going to get to being on air with my feminist hero of life.

Spending an hour chatting with her on the radio?

AWESOME.

If you are interested in listening to the interview, it can be found here.

(Just be sure to click March 31, 2013.)

This weekend has been an absolute whirlwind – last long training runs (for the Sunshine Coast half-marathon next Sunday); Easter feasts; tennis games; park workouts; awful movies; stand-up shows; and theme (house) parties.

And looking forward to this week, we’re just going to do it all again!

A few snaps from around the block:

…

Happy Spring my friends!

We’re such good sports

Gather round friends!

Let me tell you a story.

When we were sixteen, my doubles partner Kristy and I were invited to compete at that year’s Boston Open which was being held at MIT.

Important background information: I used to play competitive junior national badminton. YES I AM AWARE OF HOW NERDY THAT IS SOUNDS – YOU DON’T NEED REMIND ME.

This invitation was very, very exciting news for us.

One, the tournament was taking place on the cusp of Spring Break, so our attendance was basically guaranteeing us an extra long vacation from school, plus the opportunity to spend said extra days IN BOSTON BLOODY MASCHECHUSETTES.

(OMG! I JUST SPELLED MASCHECHUSETTES CORRECTLY ON MY FIRST TRY!)

Ed. update: Okay, obviously I didn’t spell it correctly. But why the fresh hell did it not come up on my spell check? What weird Canadian word of ours is MASCHECHUSETTES!?

Ahem.

MASSACHUSETTS.

Two, we were just at the point where our parents were letting us go to away tournaments by ourselves, and we couldn’t think of anything more fun than bopping about Harvard in between our matches SANS CHAPERONES.

And third, as highly competitive athletes, we wanted to bring our special brand of Canadian kick-ass States-side and see just what kind of damage we could bring to old’ Beantown.

I honestly cannot describe to you how excited I was when our parents gave us the okay to go.

And when I say that the trip was totally bonkers, that, my friends, is no lie.

1.) Flying to Boston on the redeye Wednesday night, deliriously tired, I turned to Kristy and said, “Look how close the moon is!”

She just stared at me, before responding, “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THAT IS THE WING LIGHT.”

Good times! Also, this trip took place pre-9/11 so we actually got to go visit the cockpit and chat with the pilots. Can you believe it?

I can’t.

2.) When we arrived in Boston we were picked up by our homestay family, only to quickly learn that we wouldn’t actually be staying in the city proper, but a suburb located approximately forty-five minutes (to an hour) outside of the downtown core.

This was a surprise to us.

3.) Normally homestay families provide meals (usually breakfast and dinner) for the entirety of the athletes’ stay. We were gifted a bag filled with a dozen frozen bagels and a giant fruit salad from Whole Foods.

I ate quite a bit of dried cereal bought from 7/11 over the length of the weekend.

And by cereal I mean penny candy.

4.) Upon arrival at the house we were told that we would actually be driving ourselves to the tournament. Our billets had recently won a car in a fundraiser raffle, and we were to use this car to transport ourselves to Boston and back. We liked to refer to it as the cardboard car.

We had two pages worth of directions, one “new” drivers license (Kristy) and one “learners” license (me) between the two of us.

Driving in that first morning was harrowing and a half.

Oh, hello giant semi-truck encroaching in our space in this turnpike!

5.) I forgot all my shorts at home and had to play the entire weekend in the spandex shorts I would normally wear under my regular shorts to keep my muscles warm between games. Because of this some guy wearing a “YALE” t-shirt sat at the back of every court on which I played, watching my every move.

To this day I just refer to him as the YALE CREEPER.

6.) One afternoon we went to a coffee shop at MIT and the flirty barista gave us a GIANT plastic bag filled with six years of Canadian coinage.

7.) I beat an ex-junior national champion in my quarter final singles game and she threw one of the most impressive post-game tantrums I have ever witnessed. Broken racquets and everything.

8.) On our last night at our homestay, their son Don asked Kristy if she wanted to go down to the river and watch the moon with him. She politely declined.

9.) I started reading Catcher in the Rye while in Boston and finished it on the plane ride home. This EXPLODED my brain and as such, I spent the next three months pretending to be Holden Caulfield anytime I wrote ANYTHING.

10.) I made it to the semi-finals in singles, and we also made the semis in doubles. All the rest of our time was spent shopping (I bought a number of sundresses and peasant shirts – remember them? – at Target), walking around the campus, laughing at everything possible, and just generally being the silly, sixteen year old girls that we were.

Twelve years later I remember this trip like it was yesterday. We still laugh about it anytime we get together, and goodness knows the myth of the cardboard car will live on and on for the remainder of my days.

I would also love to return to Boston.

But this time, I’ll stay right in the heart of the city.

In a hotel, with a view of the moon.

Read my lips (and also these books)

I really, really love to read.

For definitive proof, please see this photo of Mr. M’s and my wedding cake:

DSC_0731 - Copy — This may have been the best idea of my life.

Some of my very earliest memories are of my little sister, my mother, and I, all curled up together on my single bed, reading James Stevenson and Shel Silverstein.

Sometimes I would imagine that we were stranded at sea, afloat on a raft made up of duvets, plush toys, book spines and tea.

(And for what it’s worth, I still think Will You Please Feed Our Cat? is a work of genius. That and The Missing Piece.)

Nowadays, I don’t discriminate much when it comes to the literature that sits atop my bedside table.

Seriously, I’ll give anything a shot.

Canadiana, fantasy, SF (both speculative and science fiction), graphic novels, YA, biographies, cookbooks – WHATEVER.

If it’s good, I’ll read it. Heck, even if I start it and don’t like it, I’ll slog it out.

Because if I start something, I’m darn well finishing it.

I have a sometimes co-worker (he only works part-time) who, whenever he’s in the office, pops around my pad to pick up some recommendations for his much beloved kindle.

When I first started my job, we were seated together at a tax luncheon. And because I didn’t know him from Bob, and am not a tax expert by any stretch, I turned to him and opened with my one and only ice breaker:

“Are you reading anything good at the moment?”

He relayed that he wasn’t, and since I was nervous as all get out, I proceeded to talk for at least three weeks straight about all the books I had ever read in my entire life.

Luckily he took it all in stride.

And now he’s just e-mailed me to let me know that he’ll be in later on next week. So here are the 5 books I am encouraging him to read this go around:

1.) One Step Behind – Henning Mankell

I wrote briefly on Monday about my love for this author. Once again I cannot stress enough how bloody brilliant (I think) he is. Granted, I’ve never read anything of his in the original Swedish, but this is a man who has outsold Harry Potter in many European countries, so I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say his works are excellent no matter what language you’re reading them in.

One Step Behind is the seventh book in Mankell’s highly acclaimed Kurt Wallander mystery series. When we were living in Birmingham M stayed up all night reading it because he couldn’t fathom going to bed not knowing how it ended (for real he read the entire 600+ page book in one sitting.)

2.) Green Grass, Running Water – Thomas King

Thomas King is a Canadian author of Cherokee and Greek descent. He is also a master storyteller and humorist extraordinaire. Green Grass is one of the most amazing books I have ever read in my life; it weaves together written and oral literary traditions, and plays with structure and narrative in a seamless, easy, organic way – much in the same way I imagine that grass grows and water runs.

We have 1000+ books floating around the joint so I couldn't find all the books to photograph. Plus all my Mankell is in Halifax.

Rife with satire and humour, it made me laugh, pause, think, re-think, and feel. Truly, I really believed as though I could feel the book; like it I was living inside of it – and it inside of me.

Years later, I still feel this way.

3.) The Buddha of Suberbia – Hanif Kureishi

I read this in one of my second year English classes. My professor was all about pushing us to think outside of socially proscribed and expected norms – particularly in terms of gender, sex, politics, and academia. (This pretty much blew my nineteen year old mind.)

Set in late 1970s London, this book tackles all of these issues, and more.

I hear the movie version of this is pretty good. I have yet to watch it though.

There are parts of this book that I find so funny, I shake with laughter. There are parts of this book that I find so difficult, I shake with rage.

4.) Straight Man – Richard Russo

There is a part in the book where the protagonist goes on live television, wearing Groucho Marx style gag glasses and a fake nose, brandishing a terrified, honking goose he’s named Finnie, and threatens to kill “a duck a day!” until he gets his small mid-west University English Department’s budget.

Enough said.

5.) Tempest Tost – Roberston Davies

Robertson Davies is a Canadian institution.

I could easily recommend any of his books, what with him being a downright genius and all that, but this was the first book of his I ever read, and Mr. M and I took turns reading it out loud to each other, and the whole experience was simply enchanting.

Plus it has one of the best lines I have ever read in my life:

“I do not quite ante-date the telephone.”

Now, taken out of context, it might seem a bit strange, but heck, you’ll just have to read it.

…

So there you have it folks. Five fabulous feats of literary magic.

I’m curious – what has enchanted you these early Spring days? What has you spellbound?

I’d really love to know.