Return to Junior High School

Thanks to everyone for all your kind words over the past two days. I really appreciate it. After taking some time to think, I realized that I needed to turn this blog, and my mood around.

The solution?

Cute furry animals. (Yes!)

The latest cats we are fostering, Emma and Oliver (this is Oliver), are ridiculously cute. Yesterday, Sasha knew how I was feeling, so she came into my room and handed me a kitten. It's seriously the cure-all situation.

And honestly, how can you feel bad when you're hanging out with this little guy?

Solution number two was to Courtney* it.

We headed to Mick E. Fynn's for a pint (or two or three. . . okay, or maybe four of five) of beer with Junior for our traditional Thursday night booth dancing sessions. By some major fluke of awesome luck, Court and I both managed to get schedules this semester that cater to our propensity to accidentally drink too much beer on Thursdays.

And I think in the coming months, Junior might get dragged along for the ride a lot. Max, Brendan, Jordon, Charles and Brent were there too, as per usual.

It takes true talent to look this good dancing while sitting down.

Can someone please explain to me what the hell this is? I'm stumped.

After finishing our jug of beer, we went to House on Parliament to hang with the other girls from China, and the guys who had also ended up there.

There's a good possibility we were way too rowdy to be in House on Parliament.

"These are exciting!" Court said gleefully.

"Uh, Court?" I said as I watched her pick them up, "they're just salt and pepper shakers."

"I know!" she said, before stuffing them into her purse. (She later defended herself by saying that her new place lacks in the seasoning department. I can kind of sympathize with that, because in Vanuatu we didn't have any pepper, and to put it bluntly, that just sucked.)

And then we had tea.

Yesterday afternoon, I ran into Mark at Pages (and by "ran into" I actually mean "stalked out") so we went for a Spur of the Moment Beer (my favourite kind of beer, hence the capitalization) at the Black Bull, and discussed the logistics of etymology and the possibilty that my inner ear and motor skills were being thrown off by having my hair cut.

And then it was Friday night, again. The water stopped working in our house when Katrina was halfway through shaving her legs.

We went to the State Theatre for the Return to New York party.

It was only last night that the sheer weight of the realization that I just might be a scenester hit me. It first started dawning on me when Katrina and I were picking our outfits for the night and she commented, "You can't wear something you've worn recently before, because it's all the same people at these things, and they'll have seen you wearing it before" and we agreed that we would have to start "saving outfits" for the nights that we "actually go out."

But what really solidified it was that not only was I headed to see Joel Madden DJ, I was on the list to see Joel Madden DJ. You know you've hit rock bottom when you're going out to see a member of Good Charlotte "spin."

So there you have it, there's the truth. I just might be a scenester. (Then again, that raises the hypothetical philosophical question along the lines of, "if a tree falls in the forest. . ." If a scenester calls themself a scenester, are they suddenly some level about or below hipsterdom? Is it the equivalent to when someone says, "I'm lying" and you're not sure whether they're a liar or not?)

Then again, I can remain confident that there is one main difference between us and the scenesters; we're not there to be seen. We're there to have a good time.

[Insert here the typical half a dozen classic pictures of Alice, Scott et al. going wild while the rest of the crowd stands and focuses on looking cool and unapproachable.]

And that's just not our style.

I think Joel Madden has a promising career as a DJ in a Cold Lake bar. Honestly, people would love him in Cold Lake at the Camel's Toe! Three Snoop Dogg songs in a row? Shakira? The ability to play Nelly Furtado immediatly following Justin Timberlake? Shit, that Madden brother is talented!

I'm not going to lie though- Alice and I had an awesome time dancing to Rick Springfield's Jesse's Girl and Kelly Clarkson. (Even though we were definitely the only ones.)

Towards the end of the night, Katrina showed up and bonded with the dance floor.

By the end of the night, Alice and I were exhausted from dancing to Joel's awesome ability to steal the itunes playlist of a 15-year-old girl who is getting ready to go out to a junior high school dance.

Jessex, Alice and I.

I embraced my possible scenester-dom by taking a classic myspace style photo.

Aw, the little gaffer was all tuckered out and apparently felt like making out with my shoulder.

Hmmm. Want to guess who's feet these are?

Afterwards, Jessex, Alice and I were walking up to Chinatown for some late night food, when we walked past the thimble, the scene of last week's game of Get Off That Thing!: The Official Game of Cool Kids Everywhere.

"Can you climb that?" I prompted Jessex. Without asking a question, she promptly ripped off her boots and starting scaling up the thimble. Once she reached the base of the thimble, she had some difficulty, but we recruited the help of some passing by guys, who also didn't ask any questions, and boosted Jessex to the top of her throne where she established a buddha like posture.

Jessex may have been acting as Nimbelina, but I wanted her to GET OFF THAT THING! (My favourite part about this picture is that the random guy had no idea what was going on, but he still has a look on his face like, "I'm on a thing. What are you going to do about it?")

And then we went to a Chinese food restaurant that had about as much vegetarian food as the Australian east coast.

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*Mark and I were discussing Court today, and how she always makes the best out of any situation, and takes it as it comes. So from now on, just going out and having a good time despite everything else will be known as pulling a Courtney.