The Cheeseblog

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There are some beautiful photos at this site, documenting the frenzy of same sex marriages that have taken place over the past week at San Francisco City Hall.

Just last week I was complaining that my dreams were too anxious, too freaky, too ridden with dark messages. Does anyone have good dreams? I wondered. Do people still dream about fun adventures, flying through the sky with long-dead pet ponies, singing with the voice of an angel? A puppet angel? Last year or so, right before I got laid off, I dreamed I was the bass player for the Clash.

But picture it: a trip to Cuba with your parents and your husband. A lovely vacation where you will stay in a small, not-too-luxurious hotel. Beach and waves of blue ocean and hot weather! Mmmm! OK now picture your husband as DAVID BOWIE!! (sorry Michael)

David Bowie was very tired after our long journey. We checked into the hotel and my dad was pissed that the room on the ground floor was not available – it’s his favourite. We got rooms on the 3rd floor, which was OK with me as long as my parents weren’t right next door because c’mon! David Bowie!

When we got to the room, David said, “I want some 24 carat brandy.” Then he ordered some from room service and fell asleep flopped on the bed. The room service dude brought us a very expensive looking bottle of brandy and told me to put out a mug containing three tablespoons of sugar and some water mixed together. This would thwart the mice that would be coming to our room as soon as they smelled the brandy. I did so. Then I tasted the brandy. It was just homemade wine in a fancy bottle. I heard the mice scurrying to our room as soon as I uncorked it.

A Christmas card from Courtney Love was also delivered to the room. She had started working for some company, in the warehouse, I think, and it was a company Christmas card, from “The owners: Darren, Doug and Bob” and then at the bottom was a handwritten note from Courtney, explaining how she’s doing so much better, straightened out, flying right, etc. I sure hope that’s true.

I decided to go shopping. So I left David in the hotel room, still asleep, and flew back to Vancouver. I ended up on East Hastings street, at a shop that sold cool toys and stickers and things. I bought 12 sheets of stickers that said “Rock On!” They were $1 apiece. The boy I was buying them from said, “Why are you buying so many Rock On! stickers?” and I said, “Because they’re cool!” So he and I went to the Cambie and had beer.

For the record, I had no cheese before bed.

Apparently, the man that was shot two blocks from my house yesterday was targeted. “I’d like to assure the public that this incident did not involve the general public, that we suspect that this victim was targeted and it was a deliberate shooting,” sez the coppy. Groovy. (let’s not get into the semantics of “it was a deliberate shooting”) But the guys what did it are still running loose, possibly in my neighbourhood. You’ll forgive me if I don’t shout hip hip hooray just yet. Random or not, they shot a man dead in the middle of Boundary road at four in the afternoon. They’re crrrrrrrrrrraaaaazy!

Walking in the other direction from where the guy got dead yesterday, this morning I came across a felled pedestrian. Hit by a silver pick up truck at a corner where I cross frequently; a intersection where drivers pay so little attention to pedestrians, they wouldn’t notice God Himself if He was salsa dancing in the street. Police were on the scene – having been in the neighbourhood anyway, I guess. Looking for two men in black puffy coats with a gun.

Time to move out of barely ‘burbia and back to dangerous downtown where the worst thing that ever happened to me was a very bad cover band? Hem. Mayhap.

From the weekend’s classifieds:

Personal Assistant 4 days per week Bookkeeping, admin, personal errands, supervise housekeeper and coordinate busy Executive’s life. $12-18.00 an hour

This is a lot of money. But does it actually appeal to people? Are there people out there whose ambition it is to supervise some rich person’s housekeeper and pick up drycleaning (and probably worse)? Or do they just do it for the money? I’ve often wondered if there are people out there for every job, like soul mates for every person, or if most of us want to be rock stars and just settle for being office assistants because that’s what’s available.**

Speaking of rock stars, is it really necessary for the East Coast Music awards to be 2 hours long? Yeah, the Grammy Awards are 3.5 hours long. But people watch the Grammy Awards. Everyone watching the ECMA was in the goddamn audience, shrieking every time someone said “Newfoundland”. If there are more people in Canada interested in the East Coast Music Awards than in Da Vinci’s Inquest, I’ll eat my party hat. And your party hat. And Jimmy Rankin’s 327 East Coast Music Awards.

**If you are interested in this job, find it at the Van Net Classifieds.