Post knife attack

Wow, does that last post by me ever sound incoherent.

Okay, so Powell Street was double plus amazing. I cannot stress that enough. Furthermore, I’m now married to it for as long as I live in Vancouver (possibly longer, the aforementioned Shimizu flew in from Philadelphia for the festival).

The big art event of the festival was a Kazuko Ohki performance at the Stanley:

1. The Stanley is the most beautiful theatre I’ve ever been in.
2. Ohki performances (in this case “My Husband is a Spaceman”) are much like many a one-person show, but very very good. Think Spalding Gray + Laurie Anderson without the shittyness. Mit funny animations and props. And songs about shopping in Shibuya.

We got in for free of course, but it would have been worth more than every penny of the admission.

Other bits of news:

-Yuba has run away again. We keep seeing her around, but she won’t come home. Mifu is a bit depressed, but since Malevitch (Jesse’s cat) is over here daily, it’s not such a big deal. I figure Yuba will come back once she loses about ten pounds of sloshy feline ass fat.

-Mauve is in town, and will be shacking up with us.

-RC is back on the job hunt. Anybody?

-I’m selling my Haro, Norco, and maybe, maybe the Kuwahara off. Gonna (possibly) get a Bianchi. Anybody?

-My Japanese is still shit. Went for drinks a few nights ago with RC, Yamazaki, Mochizuki, Komatsu, Ito, and one of the Aoki girls, and could barely follow along. That weird Pidgin creole that RC and some of the JC’s speak is at first practically impenetrable, but as my Japanese vocabulary grows, it’s getting downright hilarious. At one point Yamazaki asks me “Nanday-wha?”. Other hits include “Fuckaiyaro”, “Chottominute”, “Kushit!” and “Yeah, but that guy’s probably got a chisaichimchim ne?”

Woot!

-m