It’s Not Delivery, It’s Delissio!

Since my last post was a literary extended journey through my hopes and dreams, I thought I’d give your eyeballs a break with this post. On the weekend, we celebrated Danica’s birthday as well as Halloween and fast food. (There were a strange number of greasy themed costumes this year).

We had a grand ole time hanging out at Danica and Chris’ place and then ventured to Queen for their friend’s Halloween party. We’ve been to this party before and it is so epic. I’ve proven my lack of photography skills with this post because the pictures below don’t do this place any justice at all, whatsoever. They plaster their walls with Halloween decorations, their bathroom is spattered with fake blood (and a torn up shower curtain complete with victim in the bathtub), and the place is always completely packed with the best costumes you’ll see all year. Unfortunately I captured 4% of this mania with my camera. I guess I was having too much fun Pizza dancing on the dance floor.

I hope that this will motivate me to take a million pictures in Vegas (where I’m going on Thursday!!!). I swear to capture as much generic and non-personally identifiable shenanigans as is allowed by “What Happens in Vegas” law.

UGLY: My photo journalism skills.

AWESOME: I get to wear my Sexy Pizza dress again in Vegas!!!

I Dreamed a Dream of Apples and Horses.

In the last two weeks, I’ve seen 2 concerts and 1 musical. To active members of society, this may seem like nothing, but to me, it was a big deal! I felt like a cultural participant. I enjoy reminding myself that I am inspired by performance and theatrics. Spend too many nights at home, excitedly watching back to back episodes of Pretty Little Liars and you can forget that you get just as excited (OK, MORE excited) by actually leaving your house and watching people put themselves out there, sharing their talents for your entertainment.

On Thursday of last week, I went to see Fiona Apple with my lady friends, Danica and Kari. We had a delicious dinner at Mildred’s Temple Kitchen in Liberty Village and head over to the Queen Elizabeth Theatre to watch a short-haired Fiona play herself like a drum and belt out emotionally distressing ballads with a young cowboy called Blake Mills. I loved it all. Here’s a video, so you can pretend you were there with us. (Just think of us as the unidentified elderly woman sitting on the couch).

The next night, my parents rolled into town to see the Ian Anderson concert at Massey Hall. Ian Anderson is the lead singer, flautist and merry man of Jethro Tull, everyone’s favourite 1960’s British progressive rock group. Jethro Tull has been a constant staple in my musical upbringing- My Dad has been playing Jethro Tull in our house since I was a wee lass and my love for them has gone from childhood ignorance to teenaged, eye-rolling, reluctant head bobbing to a completely shame-free love for not only the band but also the warm and fuzzy nostalgia they come with. Listening to them is like watching a personal performance in my head of my dad galloping across the living room on an invisible steed bellowing “Heavy Horses” at the top of his lungs. So, it reminds me of home and our own personal Cameron brand of theatrics that runs in my blood.

Then, this past Friday, Jamie and I went to see Les Misérables at The Princess of Wales Theatre. As a theatre kid, I have been listening to the Les Mis soundtrack practically my whole life, but had never ever seen it live. I recently, saw the movie, enjoyed it, but knew the live performance had to be better. I was right. I cried in the first 5 minutes from the sheer intensity of the performance coming out of the gate. Then I got a hold of myself and only cried when it was absolutely necessary and unavoidable – so 4 more times during the show. And if you know me, you know that normally, I’m a stone of emotionless objectivity…just kidding, that’s a complete and total lie. But in this case, it really was totally warranted. Jean Valjean and Éponine were my favourites. Everyone was great, but those two punched me in the face with theatrical intensity.

Every time I see someone on stage, baring their souls, I get inspired to put a little more effort into my own life. I ride on the wave of those shows for weeks afterwards, always a little bit jealous that they’re the ones on stage…

UGLY: The legroom in the wings of the Massey Hall balconies. SERIOUSLY.

AWESOME: Getting pumped to maybe jump back on the stage myself…scaaaary. Also getting pumped for my Halloween Vegas trip!! So soon!

FORT FRIGHTENING TIMES OF SCARY THINGS!

When I went home for Thanksgiving last weekend, my family and I embarked on what has become a hilarious annual tradition. We attend Fort Fright at Fort Henry, where my Dad and I enjoy being mildly startled and amused and my mom practices deep breathing so as not to have a panic attack. Great fun for the whole family!

Fort Henry on a normal day is a pretty cool place where you can walk around the fort and dress up in guard’s costumes and watch the pretend soldiers re-enact the Sunset Ceremonies (where they fire rifles and cannons and march and play drums and flutes and whatnot). Educational and amusing. Good times. Anyone born in Kingston has been there at least once, most likely on a school field trip. But the BEST time of year at Fort Henry is October when they put on the best “Haunted…Fort?” I’ve ever been to. You walk around the grounds and inside the old rooms, exploring the already creepy fort, walking through scary displays with scary sounds, etc. But the scariest part is the actors walking around that stare at you or scream really loud when you walk by. Sometimes, they’ll be hiding around dark corners waiting for you so they can move in an ominous manner. For most people, this is creepy and startling and fun. For my mom, it is the worst invention of all time. She comes with us because she wants to make us happy, but truly, this is not her scene. This year, a zombie scared her so bad, she ran into a wall and lost her shoe. That is le fact.

So, if you’re looking for a super fun night time family outing, head on over to Fort Fright. And just remember: they’re not allowed to touch you.

UGLY: The clown zombie.

AWESOME: The father/daughter zombie team. She was 8. It was adorable and terrifying all at the same time.

Locks, Turkey Stocks and Two Soaking Bales (of hay).

Most of you know that I have a slight affinity for the autumn season. It has always been my favourite season, and I don’t believe this is an accident. I believe that I was raised with a healthy appreciation for the fall time.

When I was a kid, we used to go to my grandparent’s house for Thanksgiving. The drive from Kingston to Almonte was rife with auburn, red and golden leaves and even after we had arrived at our destination, we would set out again with my extended family for a “fall leaf drive”. This would result in an accumulated several hours of driving around for the express purpose of gazing upon the beauty of the season. Even after we began spending Thanksgiving at home, we tried to keep the tradition alive.

The fall leaf drive has evolved over the years – my dad and I head out for the drive early Thanksgiving morning, and at some point my mom decided she would rather stay home and make the Turkey soup (which we are forever grateful for). I’ve also become more prone to car sickness over the years so what once was a full day activity has been pared down to the better part of the morning. It’s one of the only traditions my dad and I have for just the two of us, so it’s a special event I look forward to every year. It usually involves coffee, nice radio music, a walk around somewhere lovely and contraband snacks like Ruffles chips and maple candy.

UGLY: Having to avoid winding roads for fear of barfing.

AWESOME: Maple sugar candy and the smell of wet earth 🙂

Turkey Time!

Yesterday was Thanksgiving dinner with the fam and it was such a gorgeous day out. I don’t remember the last time we had a Thanksgiving dinner where we spent half the day on the porch.

It was the perfect combination of lazy do nothingness, book reading, dinner making and dinner eating. My grandma brought over a book of old family photos and after dinner, we perused through the old photos. I had never seen some of them – of my Great Grandmother, Great Grandfather, lots of really classy looking people who came before my time. I’m going to do a whole other post on how cool my family is, so for now, enjoy the following pictures of Thanksgiving Day and half-eaten festive treats.

Happy Thanksgiving Everybody!!

UGLY: The current diameter of my stomach.
AWESOME: Turkey soup, turkey sandwiches and…The Moist Maker.

TIME CAPSULE DISCOVERY!

Attention everybody’s 10 year old self – the time capsule works. IT WORKS!

I just assumed that every kid who made a time capsule ended up either losing it, throwing it out accidentally (or on purpose if you have no heart or sense of adventure) or couldn’t wait and opened it three days after they made it. But this weekend, I came home for Thanksgiving and my mom told me she had found the time capsule I made when I was 10 in the garage. JACKPOT TIMES A MILLION! VICTORY FOR CHILDREN EVERYWHERE!

The most fun part is I have absolutely no memory of making it. I think I must have made it as a project for French class because there is a homemade French booklet that appears to predict my future from age 10 to 53. I also think I must have been instructed to include pieces of paper that explained all the items I included, because I don’t think I would have thought of that myself, and it was very helpful…

So now, I will walk you through all the exciting discoveries from my past:

This is the time capsule. It was made using a used Chicken Nuggets box.

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On the back, it instructed me not to open until 2006 (I would have been 20). Opening it in 2013 makes it that much better.

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Glorious memories!…?

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My address book. For a 10 year old, I was very popular – this book contains 5 phone numbers, one of which is my own house.

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She-Ra doll! This basically sums up my childhood. Also: THAT’s where my She-Ra doll went!!!

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This was a friendship bracelet and pin from my friend, Julie. Note: It’s an official document, as it was signed by Julie herself for authenticity.

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This is gross…

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On the back of this paper, I had taped a Werther’s Original…

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This is a “stuffed animal” I apparently made at Brownie’s. I’m convinced this is going to re-animate and kill me while I’m sleeping.

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POGS! Please note, one of my handmade POGs (yah…I had a POG maker…) reads “PPP POG GGG”. The other reads “Matt + Caitlin = <3”. Because love is ART.

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I do remember Bruce Coville being my favourite childhood author. He also wrote such literary masterpieces as “Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher”, “My Teacher is an Alien”, “There’s an Alien in My Underwear” and the “Space Brat” series.

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GAWD, MOM! Guilt trip…

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Apparently, when someone gave me a gift in 1996, I just put it in this box. That’s how much I treasured them.

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An Invitation to my 10th birthday party. I think I’ll be late…

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I understand putting the paper in to prove the date. I don’t understand why I included two articles: one about a Ford plant and the other about a stranger receiving military medals.

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This was the best part: a note to my future self. I won’t transcribe this verbatim, but the highlights are:

– “I have a major crush on Matt who lives across the street, but he is going out with my best friend Brandy-Jo Leslie.” (Future Self Note: she was NOT my best friend…)

– “I will now tell you all about my life right now. I will also make lists.”

– “Now I will tell you the kids in my class now. The ones with a black dot in front of them are NOT my friends. The ones with the red spots are my friends.” (Future Self Note: There are no black spots and I put a really big red spot next to my own name…narcissist)

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A comic book I started to write when I was 10 called “The She Devil”…it may or may not have been about an evil prostitute…

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This is the French book that was perhaps the start of it all.

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I’m pretty terrible with French, so I’m going to entertain us all by using Google translate to enlighten us to my 10 year old predictions for my future.

1997:

1. “I’ve been dancing 6 years” (Still dancing – WIN)

2. “I’ll be 10”

3. “I’m going to want a new teacher”. (BURN)

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2000 (13 years old):

“I’ll have beautiful clothes” (Wow, I was really shooting for the stars here…)

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2010 (Age 23):

“I’ll be at University” (Graduated at 20 boom)

“I’ll have a car” (NOPE, NO YOU WON’T…especially not one like the death trap in your picture, you masochist)

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2020 (Age 33):

“I’ll be famous”. (This might be the most heartbreaking news I have to deliver to 10 year old Caitlin. You are not famous. YET….come on, INTERNET!)

#3 is either “I’ll be loved” or “I’ll be love” (French people?). Either way, get a hold of yourself. I’d also like to note, that at age 10, I did NOT have glasses yet, but for some reason I really wanted them, so I’ve drawn myself here with “fake glasses” as if I would wear them without needing them. I’m also wearing a wig made of blonde ringlets? Who knows.

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2030 (Age 43):

Judging from the picture, my life is basically now over and I’m waving goodbye to good times.

I’ve also written “I’m going to ride”…into the sunset? And “I’ll be love” again. I was desperate for love, guys!

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2040 (Age 53):

I look like I’m bedridden here… I’ve written “I’ll be One Thousand”. Clearly, I was not doing as well in Math as I was in French. Or I knew that by age 53, I would have discovered the secret to youth and I will live forever.

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yyyyeeeaaaahhhhh

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There was also a really important looking letter inside an envelope…

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It was actually sealed, so I knew it had to be something very special and personal for me from me…

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The emotional rollercoaster that was this letter to myself is as follows:

Dear Caitlin, age 20,

When I’m 20 years old, I hope to be an actress, singer or cartoonist, maybe artist. Also at that age, I hope to be dating, engaged or married to Matt M. These are two things I learned to see your future: MASH tells your future in life and the other is to see your percentage of marrying a guy.

Number 1 – MASH: I will be married to David I will live in a shack, I will have 2 kids and I will drive a Limo.

Number 2 – “Matt loves Caitlin”: <gibberish math equation>. I have 65% of marrying Matt.

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I’m happy to know that even at a young age, I was concerned with the important things in life, and I had high and lofty goals for my future. Finding this time capsule has provided me with mental entertainment for years to come. I may even make another one which I will open on my One Thousandth birthday.

UGLY: Several of the things in this box were sticky…

AWESOME: Going through all this crap was sooooo fun! It’s also interesting because I’ve been thinking a lot about getting back in to Improv recently but I’ve been dragging my feet. Reading my life goals from when I was 10 reminded me how much I used to want to be on stage and how I thought it would be my whole life. It was like getting a letter from myself, telling me I should go for it. Weird. And awesome.

Nuit Blanche Toronto: A Review

Hello art lovers! This weekend was Nuit Blanche in Toronto and I have to tell you, if you’re looking for a great blog post regarding all the incredible art that was displayed last night, then you have come to exactly the wrong place. I’m sorry. You’ve been led astray. My life’s happiness relies on higher view counts on my blog stats page, so I will really say absolutely anything to get you to read this thing, including lying to you in the title.

I did attend Nuit Blanche last night and had a great time! But for me, Nuit Blanche is about walking around the city in amongst the other wide-eyed, mostly inebriated crazies. I like stumbling across the odd occurrence you would’t see on a regular night downtown, but I find for the most part, I don’t have the patience for many of the larger exhibits. You line up for an hour and whatever you end up seeing at the end of it never meets your expectations. I’m sure there are exceptions to this rule, but I’ve never lined up long enough to see those ones.

My Nuit Blanche consists of drinking ciders in the street, with my best lady friends, hugging unicorns and people made of beanie babies. It’s singing techno music and parking for a couple hours on a picnic table in the middle of the street supplied by a mystery picnic table donor. It’s eating savoury AND sweet crepes at 2am complimented by ice cream and a SEPARATE milkshake (didn’t think that order through) while a 7ft tall Batman and several of his masked friends eat at the table across from us. It’s spending an hour playing a rousing game of “catch the cab” with fellow art lovers at 3am. This is why you wear comfy shoes to Nuit Blanche.

For better or worse, I don’t see a lot of art at Nuit Blanche, but there is something special and social and communal about wandering around your city with all the other wanderers in the middle of the night… where the roads are closed and your hearts are open… (WINK).

UGLY: That sentence up there. The one I just wrote.

AWESOME:
The fact that Nuit Blanche was not completely freezing this year! Made it much more enjoyable.