"Counting the stars all around."

"Do you know anyone?"

Things PF and I saw while wandering the streets with CW and SAD:

Geoffrey Rush! Ye olde pirate himself!

CW and I saw him first, coming towards us, sporting a small bandage on his forehead. Within seconds, before we could inquire or merely wonder about the head wound, he was posing for a photo with two young men who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Wow, the Film Festival! It's nuts. Anyway, GR soon ducked down the walkway beside The Cumberland, and that was the last we saw of him.

Later, PF and I walked by Monica Bellucci as she stepped out of a car. Wearing a lot of makeup and high-heeled suede boots, she stumbled on the pavement in front of the Lobby Bar (yet another interview location for this year's festival). Everyone -- the Lobby Bouncer, Bellucci's companions and handlers, even PF and I -- lurched toward MB like we were about to save her life. She didn't need us.

"Madonna!" she exclaimed, laughing.

"Madonna!" echoed one of her male friends, and suddenly they were gone.

TRACK LISTING: Bebel Gilberto, "All Around"

[NOTE: The image above was taken through an old View-Master; the still of Rowlf working the camera is from one of the Muppet Movie reels.]

"Send me a postcard."

"Tell me a story."

Things PF and I saw today, while wandering the streets of Montreal:

The Brazen woman herself, Rachel Rachna Dhawan, along with her lovely beau, Aaron, at the wonderful café Figaro. We eat deliciously buttery croissants topped with ham, gruyère, tomato and spinach, and drink fresh orange juice and espresso. It's amazing.

As we finish up, we notice Rufus Wainwright and Jimmy Fallon arriving on the patio at the same time. Whether they are arriving together, we cannot say. Rufus played in town the night before, and according to Rachel and Aaron (who were actually at the show), he is set to attend his sister's wedding this weekend. Perhaps Jimmy is in Montreal to film something? Rufus is surrounded by impeccably dressed gay hipsters; Jimmy is accompanied by a male friend. Rufus' table is right next to the sidewalk -- all the better to be seen in Outremont, we are told -- and Jimmy is seated at the table next to it. As we leave the restaurant, we see that Jimmy and his friend have their backs against the exterior wall as if they're joining the conversation at Rufus' table, even though their mouths are closed and they're staring straight ahead. Hmm.

***

Rachel has brought us to Cocoa Locale so we can finally meet Reema (see third photo above and video below). I am in awe of her brilliant skills, as evidenced by the bakery's perfect decor and, of course, its wonderful desserts. We pick up two of each available cupcake -- chocolate chai, coconut with pink frosting, and lemon -- then catch a cab to meet up with another gang as more of Reema's regulars stop by for their favourites.

***

With Liette and Nick acting as guides, CC, AGF and the most charming ADF join us as fellow tourists. We stroll around the city, stopping for hearty empanadas at La Chilenita before heading down to the Old Port. We spot the still-stunning Habitat 67 across the water and are happy that we ended up at such an obvious destination.

[AGF has some great photos from that outing here!]

***

While walking along St-Laurent, we are passed by a man in a hurry. Wearing billowy linen pants and a flowing white shirt, he screams into the BlackBerry pressed to his ear.

"Who the FUCK do you think you're talking to?" He shakes his head and barrels past the pedestrians in front of us.

"Who the FUCK do you think you're talking to?" As he storms into the distance, he raises his voice.

"No. NO! FUCK. YOU!"

***

After a brief rest at Liette and Nick's condo right across from Parc Jarry, we find ourselves feasting at Rugantino: warm bread dipped in fine olive oil; chick pea fries and breaded green olives; shrimps sautéed with lemon and garlic; bresaola with pecorino and truffled arugula; risotto with shrimp and taleggio; veal medallions; a bottle of Sangiovese; tiramisu; sponge cake iced with ricotta and chocolate; pistachio ice cream and field berry sorbet; cups of coffee and espresso; and a bowl of blueberry crème brulée. It is heaven. Pleasantly stuffed and marvelling at our luck, we head back to the hotel, ready to call it a night after an entirely satisfying day.

TRACK LISTING: Pony Up!, "The Truth About Cats and Dogs (Is That They Die)"

[NOTE: And where are Pony Up from? Montreal, of course! Note also that the lion's head door knocker in the second photo above is the same door knocker that I snapped thirteen years ago.]

"Radio! Radio! Radio! Radio!"

"Radio! Radio! Radio!"

Things I saw this afternoon, courtesy of Rob and Brendan WHO ARE TOTAL ENABLERS:

Innisfil's 400 Market, the second time around.

TRACK LISTING: Rancid, "Radio"

[NOTE: The radio in the photo above was, in fact, bought at the 400 Market's Outdoor Antique Mall today. (I picked up some jewellery as well, along with a couple of vintage postcards from the indoor mall.) I'm not sure if the unit is a Philco Transitone PT-39 or PT-41.]

"Best notify my next of kin!"

"This wheel shall explode!"

Things I saw, starting this afternoon:

Robbeeeeeeee! Bren-Bren! Doggieeeeeees!

Um, and yeah, of course, a lot of shops, darling, sweetie, shopping, darling.

TRACK LISTING: Julie Driscoll & Adrian Edmondson, "This Wheel's on Fire (Absolutely Fabulous Theme Song)"

"We go out in the world and take our chances."

"Why are we here?
Because we're here!"

Things I saw tonight at a lovely barbecue:

KDS!

Back from Yakage! Back in town! Back and he never missed a beat. 歓迎!*

TRACK LISTING: Rush, "Roll the Bones"

*Welcome!

"Why do I do the things I do?"

"I'd tell you if I knew."

Things I saw in the earlier hours of the morning, over much needed hits of caffeine at Jet Fuel:

MC Mike Campbell!

My last meeting with Mike was over a year ago at Fun House, which was also the first time I ever met him and his super-cute girlfriend. I lament the fact that he lives pretty far away; otherwise, we could knock out karaoke versions of Wham! songs on a regular basis, hoping during each performance that we don't get punched or what have you. He would have "Everything She Wants" to himself, of course, since he basically owns it.

TRACK LISTING: Wham!, "Everything She Wants"

"Annie told me, 'Get out of here! Head for the sea.'"

"The best things in the world
are free!"

Things I saw today:

Annie!

Since I can't make it out to her city as often as I used to, it's always a treat for me when she's able to make it out to mine.

Nice to see you, Ms Kuan! Hope to see you again very soon.

TRACK LISTING: Elastica, "Annie"

"People and places, said you were forgetting them all."

"Think of how lucky we are
for the things that we've had."

Things I saw on the VIA website this afternoon:

Tickets to Montreal!

Finally! My husband will FINALLY see Montreal (the New York to Toronto's Seattle, you know), not to mention the large Musée that he and I have been talking about for a while. Part of the deal is a three-night stay at the Queen Elizabeth, which means that this will be a good Labour Day weekend for me, too, haha.

Seriously, though, there is so much to see -- and so many people to see -- that I'm not exactly sure how we'll manage. Our tour guide will be excellent, we are sure, but she certainly has her work cut out for her.

Li! Rachel! Nick! Leila! Duffers! Lisa J and the Wills Sisters! Kimby! Kevin! Erika! JB! We are coming to your town and we are excited.

TRACK LISTING: Blue Rodeo, "Montreal"

[NOTE: The image above is a scanned page from a diary that I briefly kept in 1994. Back then I was much more interested in putting the focus on my photos rather than my words, so...plus ça change, I guess.]

[UPDATE 03-Sep-07: How could I have forgotten Baggy O and The Robot from CJLO on that list of Montrealers above? I am so stupid. Luckily, Omar and Alex are very forgiving. They begrudgingly agreed to meet us for brunch on the morning of Sunday, September 2, and even brought the lovely Emilie along with them. We are forever in their debt. CREDIT CARD?]

"I wanna go to cool places with you!"

"Cool places tonight!"

Things I saw online today:

Pam is a Troma girl!

Sure, she's married to a Troma guy, but she's made a film of her own for the company! Granted, it's not typical Troma fare, but still....

I guess it just makes me imagine that JF is one of the real cool girls in the neighbourhood, and maybe when she's not on the set she hangs out with the cool "LC" and does cool, relaxed things that don't actively court the paparazzi, and maybe if Lauren Ambrose didn't live in New York they'd all hang out together, except maybe there would be occasions when JF and LC wouldn't call LA because she might be kind of a drag, like that Saturday night when they didn't care and just went to see The Ex because, you know, whatever, right? It sounded like fun at the time.

TRACK LISTING: Sparks with Jane Wiedlin, "Cool Places"

"Strangely familiar tracks are falling."

"I'm glad you're here!"

Things I saw after dinner this evening, while searching for dessert with CW, SAD and PF:

Lauren R (as shown)!

I met Lauren while she was working for CFRC; it was probably three years ago, give or take a few months, and it was probably at The Grad Club, though it could very well have been at Elixir that we were first acquainted. I always called her "The Laurens" because she worked with another Lauren, but also because I didn't know her last name until tonight. This was probably unfair of me. I mean, how hard is it to ask someone for their last name so you can come up with some distinguishing nickname? (See previous paragraph.)

I think the last time I saw Lauren R was at The Grad Club as well, though again, it could have been Elixir. It was definitely about a year ago, but it might have been two years ago. I was sure that I would find the last photo I took of her among the others, but impossibly, I cannot find a single picture of LR in there. It's strange, but it makes this photo of her all the more valuable.

TRACK LISTING: Saint Etienne, "Been So Long"

[NOTE: The photo above was taken at Moonbean, where I was surprised and slightly confused to see Lauren, as I'd only ever known her to reside in Kingston. We spoke at length; she used the word "groovy" a lot, which I liked, then rang up my vegan chocolate-almond cookie to go.]

"I thought I saw you out on the avenue."

"But I guess
it was just someone
who looked a lot like
I remember you do."

Things I saw this morning on the way to work:

Joel Kiefte, circa 1993 or 1994.

In fact it was just the flash of a kid who looked so much like Joel did in high school, tall and gangly and wearing a dark blue baseball cap, stepping onto the station platform as our train sped away. Seeing this kid made me wonder what Joel is up to these days. He's not on Facebook or MySpace, and while he might be one of the results of a "joel kiefte" Google search (probably the one in BC), one can't know for sure without a photograph to confirm identity.

Joel Kiefte, where are you? Who would know? Eric Larock? Chris Anderson? Erin Brophy? Leah Adair? I don't even know where Leah is these days. I'm sure someone does, and I'm sure that if she wanted to be found by the likes of me and/or any other yahoo performing a web search, she'd be found. A computer and access to the internet doesn't mean I have the right to root out people I haven't seen in over a decade. For all I know, Leah's gone underground, hanging out in some secret society with Joel and the notoriously untraceable Margarita Ngoh. More power to them!

The real question is: why do I care? If people want you to know where they are, they will tell you, or they will post profiles on popular social networking sites and attach easily recognizable photos so that they might be rediscovered. Still I wonder. It's true that Joel and I weren't close friends -- we were just friends, and we might not be friends if we met again -- but I do miss him sometimes. Then again, maybe I just miss the Joel that looked like that kid in the subway.

TRACK LISTING: Translator, "Everywhere That I'm Not"

[NOTE: The image above is the back of Joel Kiefte's head, as seen in the rear parking lot of our high school in the spring of 1993.]

"Oh no, oh no, I'll be your sister!"

"Oh no, oh no,
I'll be your brother!"

Things PF and I saw this evening, as cute and funny as always:

THE BEANERS!

They are so lovely.

TRACK LISTING: Midge Ure with Kate Bush, "Brother and Sister"

"I had a dream."

"I had an awesome dream."

Things I saw online today:

This post by /a -- but before we go any further, let's just give old AGF a hearty "Welcome Back!" and not even bother with the "Where have you been?"

Now let's move on, as his post is not actually the point of this one. Basically, his whole Kim Carnes=Rod Stewart thing reminded me of being a kid and refusing to believe that the line from "Say You, Say Me" was "I had an awesome dream." For some reason I could not comprehend the idea of an "awesome" dream, and figured that the line must be "I had an awful dream." (That I could only imagine dreams to be awful and not awesome speaks volumes, probably, and may eventually lead me to a therapist's couch, but obviously we'll have to leave those stories for later dates.)

Really, what a/'s post reminded me of was a conversation I had with Rob and Brendan and PF on Friday night. We were sitting around R&B's new living room eating angel food cake with whipped cream and strawberries; "Say You, Say Me" started playing on the TV, so I felt compelled to tell them about my childhood interpretation of the "dream" line. I finished speaking in time to sing along with the lyrics in question, at which point Brendan cracked up and all I could see was a mouth full of Cool Whip, so I promptly forgot everything and started laughing at his ensuing struggle to swallow.

Anyway, "Say You, Say Me" played on the radio this morning as well, like some friendly reminder from out of the ether. Thanks, universe! I GET IT NOW.

TRACK LISTING: Lionel Richie, "Say You, Say Me"

"Such a cosy room!"

"The windows are illuminated
by the sunshine through them."

Things I saw and explored today:

The new home of R&B!

The warmest of housewarming wishes to you, Rob and Brendan (and you too, Rocky and Paco, you adorable, crazy, tiny dogs).

TRACK LISTING: Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, "Our House"

"Don't give up! Don't give up!"

"Do you remember,
once upon a time,
when there were open doors?"

Things I saw this morning on YouTube:

See above.

I was led to this ad by a funny and interesting article, to which I was led by another article; and in fact I was led to the previously mentioned article by this article, so, um, thank you Gawker?

Anyway, it seemed an appropriate theme to explore today, as PF and I are about to head north to the new, fabulously accessorized home of my super gay ex-roommates. These ex-roommates are both super gay and just plain super, and thus I am very much looking forward to spending the next two days with them. Also, I am obviously too lazy to find an original photo for this post. (Wow! Twice in one week! My slothy nature is really shining through, isn't it?)

Happy weekend, everybody! Go out and kiss somebody you adore.

TRACK LISTING: Erasure, "Chains of Love"

"This one goes out to the one I love."

"This one goes out
to the one I've left
behind."

Things I saw on Gawker this afternoon:

Reading into the past.

It's a bit heartbreaking to find inscribed books in thrift stores or giveaway boxes on the sidewalk. It's also highly intriguing; one has to wonder what circumstances led to these books being discarded. Inscriptions are usually notes from one person to another, so it seems safe to assume that most of these books were once gifts. Of course, many of the other donated or trashed items were once gifts as well, so why do inscribed books deserve a higher degree of sentimentality? What gives them more value than other gifts -- the fact that the greeting card is permanently attached?

Sometimes books simply must go. After all, we can't hang on to every little thing forever! Yet not every inscribed book found by a rummaging stranger can be a simple case of someone going minimal, with no hard feelings. There must be some instances in which the book's giver and receiver had a real falling out; or, perhaps, the giver died and the receiver found it too difficult to keep the book around. In either situation, the book is too strong a reminder of days gone by.

A few months ago, PF and I found an inscribed book at a monolithic chain bookstore in a downtown mall. It was a guide for fathers-to-be that I'd seen before in a bathroom belonging to the brother of a friend; the copy that we held was not the same one that I'd seen, as evidenced by the names in the inscription. Mazal Tov!, the giver had written in closing, in blue pen, accented by a hand-drawn Star of David. On the cover was a sticker that discounted the price of the book by 50 percent, which outraged PF. "How could they put this back on sale?" he asked, as he prepared to bring the book to a cash register and demand that it be removed from the shelf for good. It's strange that a bookstore would resell a personalized item, but what hit us so hard was this sense of sadness, that the decision to return this particular book was not a happy or easy one. I imagined many depressing scenarios, from a rift between the giver and receiver to a miscarriage forcing the formerly expectant father to get rid of a now unnecessary guide. All guesses drew the same conclusion: the book was too strong a reminder.

"Maybe the guy just needed the money he'd get from returning this book," PF suggested, referring to the receiver, or maybe even a giver with somewhat late second thoughts.

"Yeah," I agreed, "or maybe the pregnant couple already had a copy of it." Why shouldn't this be the reason for the return?

PF handed me the book and I placed it back on the shelf. These logical explanations soothed us, as if we needed closure, too.

TRACK LISTING: R.E.M., "The One I Love"

[NOTE: The image above is the cover photo of an album we have of prints we've found abandoned in various places, like junk shops and the middle of the street.]

"A pair of eyes, a voice, a touch."

"Complete surprise!"

Things I saw today, running around our apartment, bouncing around the city, laughing and shouting:

ADELAAAAAIDE!

Man, Addy is developing so quickly! Soon she'll be a year old.

It's a pleasure to see how she changes and exhibits her personality. She chatted without words; threw and chased an inflatable beach ball; and built a pillow fort, tumbling about it while we and her parents watched a movie. She attempted to read a book, then watched wide-eyed with a tapping foot as a children's video rolled. We were fascinated by it all. I couldn't help staring in admiration as she played makeshift soccer with her dad and my husband like a miniature version of her athletic mother, shuttling a small plush cube back and forth across our kitchen floor without losing her balance, all the while hissing "Kih! Kih!" as she imitated our cheers of "Kick! Kick!"

Have a wonderful first birthday, Lady A, you little wonder.

TRACK LISTING: Peter Gabriel, "Growing Up"

"Ooh-ooh ooh-ooh ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh ooh-ooh ooh-ooh, ooh ooh!"

"And that's a
pretty nice
haircut!"

Things I saw in the mirror this afternoon:

A lovely new do, once again by Fantastic Sam, once again in the comfort of JS&A. Yay!

TRACK LISTING: Pavement, "Cut Your Hair"

"Well, everybody, I am going home."

"I am going home!"

Things I saw this evening:

Our office's beloved Dylana Perera, on her last night in town. Best of luck in Belize, D! May all your wishes come true.

Later that evening, on my own way home, I stop in at Bathurst's Food for two pints of Cherry Garcia in frozen yogurt form. A man whose small dog is waiting outside is waiting patiently for me to grab the tubs so he can open the other sliding door on the deep freezer.

"Broke up with your boyfriend?" he asks, good-naturedly.

"Actually, one of these is for my husband," I tell him.

He laughs. "Uh-oh!" I grin.

"We can't share!" I exclaim, whisking the Ben & Jerry's off to the cash register. I don't tell the man that my husband will be lucky if he manages to score a quarter-cup of the stuff, or that I plan to grab a spoon and dig in as soon as I walk through our front door. It's summer time, people! Ice cream and its delicious frozen relatives are fair game.

TRACK LISTING: Bob Marley, "I Am Going Home"

"Hey! Hey! Hey! You better let them have their way."

"Hey! Hey! Hey!
You better get out of the way."

Things I saw at the grocery store this afternoon:

Adolescent girls in a displaced standoff.

The Forest Hill Market is an entirely different place at noon on a weekday than it is when I am usually there, which is after work or on the weekends, with all the other grown-ups. In the eerie stillness of midday, teenagers roam the aisles of the grocery as if they were high school hallways, with all inherent politics and social codes intact.

Two pretty and well-dressed girls stand in front of the ice cream freezer, surveying various pints of Häagen-Dazs and Ben & Jerry's. Three rougher-looking girls walk by, slowly; one of these other girls makes a remark, either to or about the ice cream girls. Two of the tough girls rush quickly up the aisle, away from the ice cream girls, leaving the third still walking slowly, looking slightly perplexed. The two supposed badasses now peer around the corner, down the frozen food aisle, their hands gripping a Ritter Sport display.

"Come on, Angela!" one of them yells at the third girl. "Make a break for it!" The two girls then erupt into peals of laughter. Angela is laughing as well, sort of, as she nears them; she's walking a little faster but still looks confused. She shrugs her shoulders with the palms of her hands facing up, like, What do you want me to do?

The ice cream girls glare up the aisle, their eyes trained on the other three girls with laser-like precision, their facial expressions a mixture of mild shock, brittle amusement and imagined superiority. The other three girls scurry off, possibly into the dairy aisle, and the ice cream girls walk away empty-handed. I realize that I don't need anything from the freezer, and that I don't miss high school at all.

TRACK LISTING: MC5, "High School"