Last night, I worked at another poorly attended Dance or Die at Pub 340. This frustrates me because not only is it the only thing happening on Sundays in East Vancouver, the music is really, really good! A various assortment of my friends come out every week. They are the core, and sometimes the only people there. I appreciate their loyalty, but what happened to the legion of dance night attendees that I handed out flyers to at The Astoria?
On the bright side, I had a lot of fun at work and got to dance longer before someone wanted another drink. Also, Jeremiah sent me a really nice message from Texas and the jewel of my life, Holly showed up with her new boyfriend. I am glad to see Holly happy with someone, and that the someone is actually a great person, not some sleazebag Darby Crash wannabe.
Speaking of endlessly irritating Darby Crash wannabes, there is an infestation of them at Pub 340. They stand at the bar, and ask people to buy them shots or for me to give them deals, which basically means that I pay for part of their beer out of my tips if I do it. These people can spend their own fucking money on booze. They are slackers that are trying to be as teenage fantasy punk as they can, which to them means act like a moron and try to score free booze. It's even worse how many girls fall for it. And they're not even in good or famous bands.
Even when he said "Gimme a beer", I wouldn't buy him one.
Last night, after work, I ended up at Pho with Justin and Keith. This is a regular event. More nights than not, you will find me at Pho at 5am, ordering a fish ball soup from the same waitress. She must wonder about us. Great gossip and comedic conversation happens at Pho. It is like a continuation of the smokeroom at Pub 340, but with less people pulling out their genitals.
I feel a bit sorry for my cat, because when I am home I am sleeping, and I am usually not at home. Now, my three days off are beginning and I have to throw out, and bag all my stuff so that my landlord can steamclean the bed bugs out of my apartment. Jer and I are moving out and putting all our stuff in storage for a year when we go on tour anyway, but as many of those suckers (literally!) that I can kill now, I will. They have been making my sleeps hell. Plus, when they bite my arms, I look like a mutant, and I've been too afraid to have people over for fear that they will take a journey to a new apartment. They are everywhere in Vancouver. I should just move to Germany. I think I will get my passport on Thursday.
On a separate note, I was disappointed that the ER show was cancelled on the weekend. I was really looking forward to that. At least that means no one went into my practice room to do drugs. Drugs are fine, but go do them in the bathroom. Or out in the open. It is Hastings Street.
Other NEWS: lost my cellphone, and then had to pretend to be Jeremiah on the phone to cancel service. The lady who worked for Rogers kept asking me if I was really a MR, and I kept saying yes, in my very feminine voice. Five minutes later, I get a call at work and find out someone has found my cellphone. We were supposed to meet the other day, so I could get it back, but the guy didn't show up and I lost his phone number!
Highlights (since last post):
-hearing from Jeremiah, then realizing he'll be back in less than a week
-pretend ballet with Daniel and Sarah at Dance or Die
-Indian Buffet with Kelly and Eartha
-message from Tony Visconti
-working on new Modern Creatures songs at home
-conversation with humans
-my sister, Ashley visiting
-losing my cell phone
-losing my religion