The Cheeseblog

Choking Duck Impression

Random observation: catt breath smells worse when the catt has been eating soft food. I wonder if my own breath smells better or worse depending on the texture of the food I eat.

Bought a bottle of red wine called “Torre del Sole: Sangiovese di Aprilia.” It’s Italian, 750 ml and cost $7.95. I was trying to decide between it and another cheapypants wine, so I read the recommendation label:

“Sangiovese is a soft and velvety wine, obtein by homonymous vineyard. Excellent for mature chesees and roasts.”

All right! I will get some chesees and partee down!

There is a strange painyelectrickytingle in the top knuckle of my right hand’s middle finger. Like a cross between a paper cut and an electric shock. It has been painy for two days now. Does anyone know what it is?

I didn’t buy shoes today. They were only $9.99 but I did not buy them. Did not buy did not buy did not buy. If there was a way for me to go without shoes for 21 days, it would probably be a good idea. But There Isn’t a Way. It rains here.

The jacket of the man on the train said “Vancouver Film School” and his hair was greasy like a genius and he wore crooked glasses with smudgy lenses. Through his smudges, he stared at the wall or maybe he was watching someone else in the reflection of the door. He smiled a little bit. It seemed he was waiting for someone to ask what he was thinking. No one did. He got off at the same stop as me, but I went in another direction.

…since this time yesterday I have been listening to all PJ Harvey. Rid of Me, Is this Desire and Stories from the City Stories from the Sea. Stories… is the fucking best. Ever.

So far today, it’s Snowbird in my head, over & over & over again. My brain is fighting the sneak attack by a choir of children on the radio, singing a song they wrote about conquering adversity. The Governor General was present for the singing and said some nice words after the children stopped singing. This made me wonder: how much of the job of GG must be like that and if it’s even 10%, why would you want the job of GG? Travelling around, looking at things and commenting on them. Oh, these woods were burned out by fire. Too bad. Have a medal. Next? Yikes – lots of flooding here. Keep on keeping on! Next? Some adorable children singing a song they wrote. Very nice. Next?

I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face. Yeah, I used to be a kid in a choir what sang for important people. But I’m not anymore. At one concert, they taped us and I listened to the tape afterwards (I was 10) and I could hear all the cracking notes and the shrieky high bits plus I’d never really thought about the lyrics to any of these kid-songs before I heard them played back. The only one I remember is “All the Pretty Little Horses:”
“Blacks and bays, dapples and greys, all the pretty little horses. When you wake, you will find, all the pretty little horses.” The best part was when the sopranos would sing, “see them prance-ing,” and the altos would sing, “dance-ing!”

No, really, that was the best part.

I was a descant, which is higher than soprano. Till I was about 16. Then I became an alto, mysterious and Liz Phair-like. Liz Phair pre-Matrix. (sigh.) I thought I could be a star, but I blew my chance when I didn’t join the Vancouver Bach Children’s Chorale They wanted money, like dues, and we weren’t gonna pay it, no way. This talent doesn’t pay for opportunity, this talent gets paid! Well, in theory.

But I auditioned and I got in. The audition was in a church on Sasamat Street, in Kits. If I’d joined the Vancouver Bach Children’s Chorale, who knows where I’d be now.

Anyway, the Governor General. What a job. There must be something about it that is yummy and good. Like the pay, probably. And the prestige. But Adrienne Clarkson wasn’t exactly Jenny from the Block before she was GG. She was a journalist, wasn’t she? and a supporter of the arts and a woman about town. Maybe I’ll email her and ask for an interview.