11 June 2005

The quest continues…

Tara in Oliver
Well, while I was listening to John Ralston Saul speak, Tara and Leslee were thieving a mannequin with a fairly expensive Kenneth Cole suit (the mannequin itself is worth like $4,000 – $5,000). Tara was having panic attacks when she woke up and this thing was sitting in her living room, realizing what they’d done (actually more the others than her, apparently). Thinking it a prank, they were sloshed at that fucking Suede fashion show, took the mannequin, and were going to set it up in front of Blair’s door with a stupid sign saying “Boo” or something, cuz apparently Blair is an idiot and a mannequin in a Kenneth Cole suit is going to scare him. This is their drunk reasoning. They also thought the mannequin was from Derks, which doesn’t make it any better but at least they know people from Derks. It turned up to be some fucking Urban wannabe store down on the south-ass end of the city.

So I agreed to do them this favour and took the suit and mannequin down to this place. The guy working there was none to pleased. Blair gave me the name of some guy he’d spoken to earlier, but the guy who was there in his stead was being a prick. He wanted names of the culprits, he told me a I was acting like a “sketchy criminal” or something. I just gave him my infoze and told him to invoice me for the damage, which Tara offered to pay. And I guess Tara actually sent them flowers, so that’s funny.


On another note, I heard back from Aspasia_of_Iqaluit, the girl I msg’d from Nerve, and I also went out with the new girl at work, Paula, for lunch Friday afternoon.

“Aspasia” is was acquiring her MFA from Brown University in the U.S., studying poetry. Apparently, this autumn, she is starting her PhD in Literature (Modern Poetry and the Occult) at Northwestern. I have no idea where that is, but I admit that it’s fairly intimidating to meet a beautiful young woman with similar interests as I do, getting a PhD on what it is I just tend to play with.

On the other hand, she may very well be a pretentious asshat. She emailed me, and implied she might be interested in hanging out while she’s in Edmonton for the summer. It’d be a treat to meet her, nonetheless. I just tend to dislike scholars.

Speaking of which, I have a lecture to prepare for. I speak at the University of Alberta this Monday evening. Feck. At least I have videos this time round. I should just pop in some Disinformation DVDs and sit down, drink my coffee, fall asleep.

Paula, whom I have no images of yet, sadly, is quite attractive. Great style, gorgeous body, and humbled from her “fat days” from high school. As we sat over lunch, she struck me as oddly similar to Melanie, however, which I don’t know how to feel about. The same sort of vain, hippie, hyperactive spirits. She may come out next Friday with Seana, Marcel, and me to Red Star. Or to play bocce, which might prove interesting.

I am thinking more and more about the idea of the whole adage, It comes when you aren’t looking or when you least expect it. Talking with Marcel, I think I also began to question what exactly it is I am looking for. Do I want someone inclined to the occult? Do I desire similarity, or difference? All this time I figured I’d wanted someone similar in nature, but perhaps something like Sarah, the Prada/Gucci girl, would be okay? She’s genuinely good shit, she’s aggressive, handles herself well, and listens to crappy music but whatever.
What is it? What draws two people together? Why do I care? Am I really lonely enough that I can’t rid myself of the plague that are these thoughts? And by thoughts, I mean skirt-chasing.

All these questions, and in the end it’s all just chance, I think.

So the quest continues…

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