Wherein a figment of my imagination becomes a pleasant but fleeting reality.

O. Hai! This is Vichan. He drove me from the airport to my
guesthouse. Did I mention that I'm in Bangkok?!

Ugh. It's 2:14 AM and I'm so jetlagged. I've never been one of those people who's been debilitated by lack of sleep so when I forced myself to stay awake until the wild time of 9:15 PM I honest to goodness thought I'd get a few more hours than 5.

Anywho, before I get to Thailand I think it's only fair to talk about getting here from Frankfurt. I had such high expectations of the German airport, it's only natural that I was utterly disappointed. There are too many crap things to outline, but I will say one good thing, being called "Bitte" is kind of awesome.

One thing Frankfurt had to offer (which I don't think I'll forget for some years to come) was a fabulous seat companion on the Sri Lankan Airlines flight to Colombo. By the time I got my boarding pass in Frankfurt it was 20 minutes prior to take off and I was convinced I'd have to sit in a middle seat of a middle row squeezed between screeching old Amammas enroute to Chennai. (Which the flight was FULL off and screaming kids). I was taken aback when I rushed in and saw that I had a window seat in the bulkhead. My short stubby legs rejoiced! And then I rejoiced some more when I took a look at who I'd be stuck with for the next 10ish hours.

We didn't even bother exchanging names but let's call him Bill for now. I hate to travel alone, think it's because I find it very difficult to wile away the time on these long distance flights. Sleep eludes me, I get motion sickness if try to read a novel and I can never find anything enticing on the inflight movie roster to watch. Even though I'm a total cantankerous hermit (who's getting worse with age) there are times when I can turn the switch on and become a very friendly, pleasant person.

Being forced to travel alone does this to me. Before I sat down I remarked to Bill that I thought I'd get stuck sitting "over there" and pointed to some fat red faced German men who were so large they were oozing into the laps of the people beside them. To which he cheekily said in an accent I couldn't quite place "Oh I feel very sorry for those seatbelts. The stories those poor bastards would be able to tell."

With that it was on.

I miss meeting people like Bill. He reminded me again why I'm such a picky bastard when it comes to men. He was an absolutely fascinating Northern Irishmen who spent his childhood bouncing around from country to country because of his dad's work. (They even lived in Toronto for a bit!) I love that world weariness that frequent travelers have. So this is what I found out. Bill did his PhD in viral studies, specifically mosquito borne viruses so he's done a lot of work for the UN in the great lakes region in Africa. My former NGO self was squealing in delight and then had to repress the maniacal grin when he said he'd done stints with MSF in west Africa. Turns out Bill's fluent in German and French. So why was he enroute to Colombo? He's doing a specialists program with Duke university in the spread of dengue and was headed to Singapore for research.

So while flipping through our pretentios reading materials (I had the New Yorker and Harpers, he had the Economist and Wallpaper (more points awarded here for stylishness!)) we managed to make the 10 hours fly by and hung out in the Colombo airport for another ridonculous expanse of time waiting for our connections. We both grumbled that it's such a waste meeting cool people in airports fully well knowing that the likelihood of ever crossing paths again is 0, unless you live in the same city. Then we buggered off to our gates.

So. What have we learned from all of this?

1. I should be sleeping

2. My taste in men has not changed one bit in the last 5 years.

3. All the good men are placed outside of my geographical grasp making them unattainable (see point 2)

4. I don't purposely mean to be a snob (or do I?) but is it just me or do you notice the more interesting folks tend to also generally have some kind of advanced university degree? Maybe I'm just very nerdy.

5. OMG! I'm in Thailand.

First belated obligatory post

So. I've impulsively gone and bought myself an iPhone with my first fat paycheque. Being a corporate whore is fantastic by the way. I can actually afford an insane data plan and still have enough leftover to make shoe purchases amongst a host of other things.

I'm going to attempt to afix a picture to this post but who knows.

Incidentally I've got a job interview tomorrow and am hoping to lean heavily on the built in gps to get me there on time. My stupendous lack of direction both in life and reality will no doubt find a way to circumvent technology.

Ignatieff's been made the leader of the Libs and although I totally love him but his acceptance speech? 'My determined determination' oh Michael!

How could I forget?

Last year's cake

Today is my best slag's birthday. Well, technically it's on the 30th but there's no way I'm going to be up past 11:59.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOUWER. I wish I was around the greater Colombo area to be on hand to surprise you shitless like last year. It's a shame that StupidLittleFascist is off jetsetting and unable to do my bidding. Which is sad really, since he is mansage.

So here's to you, the one who introduced me to the man that eventually broke my heart into a million little pieces. Picked me up off the ground and forced me to scream Bob Marley songs in an incoherent manner at R&B. Taught me that quiet geeks can be absolutely vile when questioned about check point etiquette and brought a new meaning to the phrase "purple haze."

Two posts in one day? I KNOW. Wtf is going on right?

That is the power of louwe people.

(s_cozy)

Indecision 2008: London Calling.

Cedric hailing a cab.

Oh come on. You knew that title was coming.

A note on the photo. I bought Cedric a couple of weeks back when I was shopping with Elisa. We were getting Alby's Christmas shiz to send over to Korea when she with her eagle eyes spotted Cedric on a little rotating stand thing at Indigo. Being the impulsive shopper that I am and also well aware of the fact that omg it was a knome, I pounced on the little blighter and purchased. At that point I still didn't have an effing clue where I would be heading come 2008 but I knew that wherever it was I'd definitely find a use to gratuitously take photographs of a ceramic knome. God knows that Oliver will be sincerely missed.

Thought it would only be fitting to trot Cedric out after I had made the final decision in indecision 2008. For some of you this is old news but there are a couple out there who haven't heard the full story of how I decided that London would be the next place my suitcases would be dropped.

I was to meet one of Ammi's business associates bright and early on an effing cold Wednesday morning. Suffice it to say I was shitting myself. Most people in Ammi's line of work are arrogant bastards who have ulterior motives and hidden agendas which are barely concealed. In the back of my mind I had a nagging feeling that the only reason why the President of a well established Toronto media monopoly would condescend to meet me is because he wanted to curry favour with Ammi. Incidentally he was also my contact in South Africa and had assured me (through ammi of course) that anything I wanted to do in Capetown could be pre-arranged through him. All I had to do was name the field and he would take care of the rest. (He was born and brought up in Capetown, all his family is still out there. Saying that he was/is well connected would be stating the bleeding obvious.)

9:30 was supposed to be our meeting time, of course I was freaking the shit out and took a cab from St.Andrew station instead of hopping the street car. I thought I'd be horrendously late. Way to get their 10 minutes early due to panic. As I sat their stewing in my own sense of impending doom I thought that perhaps sending a whiny text message to the fascist may calm me down. This did not work as he responded that he was boozing with the Colombian. I would've much rather been with them at that point than sitting in that stiff backed chair in uncomfortable shoes, perspiring way more than is normal for November.

The Seth Afrikaan finally made his appearance and I was able to get my shit together pretty fast. (Aside: that little talent of mine? Remember? Of the first impressions always being spot on? SPOT ON.) Within the first five minutes I knew I was seated across one of the very few people within the industry who had an honest and deep rooted sense of sincerity. Turns out he too started off as a bleeding heart but got equally jaded and cynical as I. Did his master's thesis on the distribution of wealth and the IMF in South Africa. According to him, we're kindreds.

Have you ever gotten that feeling, while you're having a conversation, while in the throes of it that this conversation? The one you're having at this precise moment is going to go down as being one of the most pivotal and influential ones in your life? Almost like the director's cut commentary on a DVD. You're aware of what's being said and done in the present but at the same time you've retreated so far back into your own head trying to process the magnitude of what's happening.

That's how I felt. It went beyond a chat about what career opportunities I would find in South Africa, and shifted gears completely. The man I met to pave the way for me to go to South Africa eventually convinced me that there's no better place for me than London.

In one hour I gained more clarity and perspective on my future than I would have hoped to gain in 9 months mucking about on my own.

My apologies in advance to Coolio. But, there ain't no party like a fascist party, 'cause a fascist party don't stop*

So it would seem that after a bit of gentle coaxing my good friend the manSage has launched his blog, tiny little fascist. Go and read it!

A background of sorts if you will.

If drac was to ever enter into a same-sex relationship with someone who lived on a different continent from him, manSage would be the one to do that with. Like mein own dear lover Sage he exhibits a few indispensable talents. Like the ability to do rudimentary mathematics.

Mostly, when it comes to taking care of bills and tips, the receipts are handed over thataway. Because. Um. Well. I can't do math. Once when we were at Global Towers he discovered that we had been billed for 70 Elephant House Ginger Beers. I like to knock the EGB back as much as the rest of them, but I probably would've paid the bill and left none the wiser if it wasn't for his Shylock-like bent. Let's not get into the time where he saved me a whole TWENTY-FIVE Rupees at Perera and Sons. I don't think the world is ready for that story yet.

So while my last two posts from Sri Lanka were totally emotastic, I must say that the newly minted tiny little fascist (aka the manSage) helped me keep my sanity as did my lover. But that's a given ;)

Real blog post coming up. And if you see "micro mini marcos" (as in Imelda Marcos) cropping up on tiny little fascist, don't be alarmed 'tis really me. Thought I'd go along with the theme of wee little leaders just for fun. Keep your eyes peeled for "itty bitty amin," I hear he's a real dick.

*For the uninitiated, it's from "Sumpin' New"

The Lord can take me now, for I have seen Coldplay in the flesh.

A really poor example of how awesome the concert was last night. Taken in the nosebleeds by my crappy digital camera

I can't even start to babble incoherently about last night's concert, because I'm still in a state of absolute shock. Alby and I have been hyperventilating about seeing Coldplay for months now. It was every bit as awesome as we expected it to be and then some. A few random musings, as you can read loads of reviews by professionals here and for the previous night's show here.

1. I am very glad that I trusted my better judgment and took my binoculars despite the jeering.
People weren't laughing when the show started though. We had crap seats, and that mofo was powerful enough that I could see the rings on Chris Martin's hands and Richard Ashcroft's pasty white feet and funny looking toes.

2. Richard Ashcroft is a badass.
I could have seen controller.controller eight times with the amount of money I spent on my Coldplay ticket. If the opening act was crappy, this would have made me question the value of my investment. However I didn't find myself in that situation, because Richard Ashcroft brought the house down. Even though he is ridiculously gangly and all sorts of fug, I wish he had taken his aviator glasses off. I thought my head was going to explode when he ended his set off with Bittersweet Symphony. I have loved The Verve since I was a brat in the 90s, they were an absolutely essential part of my BritPop experience. I totally agree with the writer of this article, if circumstances had been different and members of the band had been able to get their shit together, it could have EASILY been The Verve headlining at the ACC last night.

3. I enjoyed the show in all of its sell-outy goodness.
When you're an indie snob, it's a given that you a) never EVER admit to enjoying mainstream bands and b) never go and see said band in an stadium for a concert. I saw screw that. Seeing as how I had never been to a mother concert that had 17,000 people in attendance and all the requisite pyrotechnics, I was utterly floored by the whole experience. I'll definitely be buying the DVD when it comes out.

4. Chris Martin made me feel like a lard
I think it's wrong that a 29 year old man should be so thin and rubber-like. But perhaps that's jealousy on my part, I can't imagine being able to do all the running, leaping and jumping he did over the course of the evening let alone two nights in a row for the entire tour. Must be all the yoga he does with the wifey.

5. Alby did not provide me with waterworks or any other form of hysterics, and for that I was disappointed.
When we got past the hissing scalpers and managed to get inside of the ACC we were greeted by loudspeakers piping out The Scientist which is our favourite Coldplay song of all time. Alby started to get teary eyed, and I looked on with glee thinking that the evening's waterworks were getting underway a littele earlier than anticipated. She totally psyched me out, I don't know what's going on, but Alby's becoming a hard ass. She didn't weep, pass out, or do anything remotely Albyish. Although I'm hoping it's because she was inhaling drugs during Richard Ashcroft's set.

6. Played the best game of 'spot the brown' ever.
As you know, a favourite leisure activity of ours was to play a little game called 'spot the brown' where you'd count the amount of brown people in a specific locale. Most times, I would be the only one. Coldplay was a sea of white, I don't think I saw a single black person in there, unless they were the big burly security guys forcing people to throw out their potentially lethal bottled water. However there was a smattering of brown, we had three guys sitting in the row ahead of us, the horribly stereotypical type. You know wearing pressed severely pleated khakis and dress shirts in some variation of indigo blue. They were also responsible for getting two rows in our section baked. That's right, they were smoking up at a Coldplay concert.

7. I don't know how to WOOOO properly
I can't sing. Therefore it should come as no surprise that I can't even do a fangirl scream properly. I either yell in my normal voice range, or one that is so high it can shatter glass. Since Alby was sick last night and wasn't deafening me with her screams, she was able to hear the horror which I inflicted on the greater Coldplay audience.

8. Stop with the PDA.
I don't care if you're TomKat or another dog sniffing Ollie's nether regions, PDA is i) so trashy and b) so unwanted. If I wanted to watch someone being groped in public I'd go to a club in Woodbridge.

Quips
A special Coldplay version of quips. (I know, I haven't done this in a long while)

Richard Ashcroft: Everything is about branding, I used to be McVerve, but now I'm known as Cocashcroft

Alby and I simultaneously: Oh gosh, who ever knew he had a son let alone a wife! (upon hearing that it was Richard Ashcroft's son Sonny's 6th birthday yesterday. For those of you who care, they were at the zoo yesterday and they saw porcupines and what Ashie thought was a chimpanzee, but turned out to be an orangutan. He dedicated a song to both his son and wife Kate)

Chris Martin: (During God Put a Smile Upon Your Face) God gave you style and gave you the Arcade Fire (!!!!)

Chris Martin: Playing with Richard Ashcroft is like if the Beatles played with Michael Bolton. That's how huge this is.

Chris Martin: Good-bye Toronto, see you in a few years.
Alby and I: BOO.

Tool: (In a post-show convo) Who the hell is Richard Ashcroft?! I've never even heard of him.

And this was supposed to be a short post. If you've stuck this far you must be a real Coldplay fan. Click here to see the rest of my (crappy) clips from the concert, and here to see someone else's amazing photos from the show on the 22nd. I've posted some pictures as well, but you all know where to look for those.

*Eep*

First real un-half assed post of the new year. All it took was 13 days and a head cold. Oh yeah, and also reverting back to the pre-Christmas lifestyle, aka having no social life. Alas it's true, with the festivities over, you have all left for colder more inhospitable regions to continue on with your educations.

So. Here are a few random things that I'm stoked about for 2006 in no particular order:

Watching Santino subsequently getting his ass handed back to him on a platter.

The quadruple whammy birthday bash in February for me, tool, Alby and Rachem.

Going to the Coldplay concert in March with Alby. And watching her faint as soon as she sees Chris Martin's foot hit the stage. On the Jumbotron of course, because we have really shitty tickets. Then watching as the EMT whisks her away. The sweetest part will be when 15 years from now I'll be able to explain to her kids why Mommy has a giant scar on her forehead. "Yeah kids, she hit that guardrail like a vegan who had finally come to their senses and had a rib dangling in front of their face."

Visiting the grandparents in the motherland this summer, hopefully shedding some of this awful winter weight in the heat. Of course making time to buy an entire new wardrobe, while getting lastnode to teach me a few inappropriate phrases in Sinhala which I can use to horrify the above mentioned patrician grandparents.

Finally getting insurance and being able to drive. Not that Ammi will ever let me drive her car. And let's not start with Thathi. But it's best to be optimistic in these situations

Getting Oliver unspoiled enough so that he doesn't act as if he's bipolar, manic depressive or otherwise chemically imbalanced when taken out in public.

Stop missing my subway stop because I've gotten so engrossed watching something stupid (i.e. Coupling, Extras, and of course lamenting the demise of Arrested Development) on my ipod. Not overly optimistic that this will happen though.

Actually getting to see Thorn. Because really there's no way that we're both too busy to go on a wild shopping spree with money that neither of us has.

Taking advantage of my new lighter schedule and start reading for pleasure more. Not just the dull political science tomes which I fake enjoying.

Actually finish sewing tool's Christmas present.

Taking advantage of Aiya's job's close proximity to the Drake and (ab)using him for concert tickets. (Wow, that sentence probably had some of you grammarians gagging in a corner. I apologise.)

Um. This is getting long. I'm going to stop now.

*SQUEEEEE*

Um.

Guess who scored tickets to the Coldplay concert in March?

ME!

And I only have one extra ticket. So I'm taking Alby with me :D

Perhaps I'll post later about the obsessive compulsive manner in which I obtained these precious tickets. The stress, trauma and drama of the whole ordeal.

Or not.

*YIPEE*

SVEN IS BACK!!!!