tavie.com

Putavi "Poo", Tavie, interdictum est dicere;
Genae Ginae te spectant.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:07 PM | shower me with attention

Oh shit. I totally missed Tara's birthday.

The fact that I had absolutely no internet access that day (no school) is no excuse.

I am a sucktard. Happy belated birthday, dear Tara.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:42 AM | shower me with attention

That was a long, long day. We're mostly moved. There's some more stuff at the house but it's mostly all here. Gina fell down the stairs onto the pavement twice, once on her face, and is badly scraped and bruised, but we're all alive and mostly whole.

The view is, I must admit, spectacular.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:29 AM | shower me with attention

Friday, April 30, 2004

It's Moving Day. Goodbye Mint Manor.

R.I.P. Mint Manor
2000-2004
She saved the world. A lot.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:40 AM | shower me with attention

Thursday, April 29, 2004

Back at school. At least I heard from Apple. They do have my computer. It's awaiting a logic board. Pro-gress. But when will I ever see it again?

Anyway. The Kids in the Hall media blitz continues. Last week, we went to see "The Saddest Comedy Show in the World" at the UCB theatre, and our tickets came with passes to a preview screening of Guy Maddin's The Saddest Music in the World. So a bunch of us (me, Steph, Erin, Kitana, Gina, Jordan) went to that last night. Afterwards there was a Q&A session with Guy Maddin and Mark, which was pleasant if a little long. (The pleasantest part was when Mark spotted us, beamed and waved.) Afterwards he made a beeline for us and did chitty-chatty, and then some of us went home :P and the rest of us went to the bar where the afterparty for the screening was. That was pretty lame-- it's a place called "Kabin", supposedly log-cabin-themed, and yet the decor was really ugly and they only had Molson representing Canadian beer. Kitana was very perturbed by this.

Anyway, the most notable part of that was when I was motioning towards a Saddest Music poster on the wall and accidentally knocked it off the wall and onto my head. Kitana promptly deserted me in my struggle (I blame her not), and Guy Maddin and his friends, standing nearby, found it all very amusing. "It's yours now," Guy told me. So I took it home. In exchange for my embarrassment. Fair trade. It was an okay night, but actually one of my more awkward Mark experiences. Usually my experiences with Mark are completely unawkward. I blame myself, of course, for having nothing interesting to say. It's true, too.

And today, Dave was at Border's signing copies of the DVD sets. The best was that we ran into Tilly immediately, and it was so cool to get to hang out with her. We've only met each other briefly in the past and I find that wrong, since she's really sweet and fun. Anyway, these fans-lining-up-for-stuff-situation I normally hate, like I said, and I was a little nervous at how few people showed up at the thing. We estimate maybe 50. Not the crowd I'd been envisioning. When we first arrived there appeared to be more Media there than Fans. They were taping the whole thing for possible use on the Season Two DVDs, you see. Everyone had to sign release forms.

So we had to go up one at a time, and I was my usual ridiculous awkward self, but Dave was at his very Dave-est this fine day, and jumped up to hug me and was so utterly warm and pleased-seeming to see me, that I ended up enjoying the whole thing very much. He showed me a picture of his little cutie at an El Vez sound check last night (or was that an excuse to show off his really snazzy palm pilot? ;) He introduced me to his new publicist and made sure I exchanged information with the Broadway Video people, for purposes of fan input. He even joked that he thinks I should produce a segment for the DVD extras. (Good joke, but I think it's a GRAND idea, actually. ;) Best of all, Kitana used erin's phone to call Gina's young friend Robin (got that?), since poor Robin was stuck in school and not allowed out to come to the signing. So Dave talked to her for a few minutes, which was a beautiful thing to do, and at the end was overheard to say, "I'm sorry you go to a strict Jewish school." How swell is that?

So, in a land of opposites, this turned out to be one of the most unawkward Dave experiences of my life. Which makes me feel very good. Actually, it made me think, when we returned after the signing to get a group picture with him-- I started to get all apologetic and "Let's leave, it's time to leave", and Dave said to me, "Gee, I thought you'd be used to this by now!" And I said, "No, for 8 years, I'll never be used to it." It's true. I'm still that girl. But I feel a little happier about the whole thing. Sometimes I get down when I see the online Kids in the Hall fandom going through a period of waning. It's a time when I think it should be buzzing with the most activity-- long-awaited DVDs coming out and all-- but that's the natural course of these things. So being in a place with other fans in a fannish context, even if most of them were my own friends, was neat. It's like Henry Jenkins says:

Fan reception cannot and does not exist in isolation, but is always shaped through input from other fans and motivated, at least partially, by a desire for furhter interaction with a larger social and cultural community.

I am a genuine nyerd.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:33 PM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

Firstly: Kirsten took her ailing computer into the shop today, leaving us with a computer-free household. I can check my email from my phone, but it's hell to reply to, so I'll have to suffer until the weekend. Thank dood-ness for computer labs.

Secondly: I wanted to talk about the March for Women's Lives, but then erin went and did a much better job of it. She even posted her photojournal, which is quite wonderful. I'm glad she included a picture of my favourite protester. Great-grandpas for choice!

I guess all I have to add is that it was amazing. It was my first protest of any kind, and it turned out to be the largest in US history (despite what CNN deigned to report.) And you could really tell. My best moments were actually very private-- not the chanting and the waving and the shouting, but the moments when I stepped back and just took in how many people were around me that shared my ideals (wow, I have ideals?) and my hopes for this country (go figure, I have hopes!). Pretty powerful stuff, personally. Sure I have a voice. I used it and everything.

When we marched past the quiet and not-so-quiet rows of anti-abortion protesters lining the streets to protest our protesting, some of it was a little daunting. I was called "evil"; we were called "murderers" and "Jezebels". (The last one we embraced with great glee.) The signs ranged from disturbing (the standard this-is-what-an-aborted-fetus-looks-like) to hilarious (Jesus, O Jesus, mourning for his lost, murderous little lambs!). What I found was best was to look each one of them in the eye as I passed. Almost none of them could hold my gaze. Their eyes all slid away. Mine never did. One woman did hold my gaze, and as I looked back at her as I passed, she shouted, "God bless you! God bless you!" And I thought that was fine. I don't mind being prayed for, even if I find the reasoning behind it offensive. Gina, however, hollered at them to pray for the soldiers in Iraq instead, and I also thought that was a good way to respond.

The day was physically exhausting, but I came away from it with that high like the one I felt at my first real concert (Barenaked Ladies, New Year's Eve, 1996); that communitas, that sense from being surrounded by people that I could, at least for that moment, and completely unironically, consider sisters and brothers. I have a soft spot for that sort of thinking.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:43 PM | shower me with attention

Monday, April 26, 2004

Lots to talk about, and rarely is there a chance to do so. My computer has been in the shop for a whole month now. CompUSA still doesn't answer their phone. Apple has no record of ever receiving my computer. My mom left a lengthy message for the manager of CompUSA explaining the situation. She and my dad are off to Greece today. So my job is to bite my nails and hope CompUSA calls me back and tells me where the fuck my computer is. In the meantime, Kirsten's is working so badly that it took me half an hour to realize I wouldn't be able to check my email from it today.

That's why I'm blogging from the computer lab at school instead of being in Woodcut where I belong. I'd better get going soon.

I want to talk about the protest march, which was amazing. Maybe I'll have time to stop by here again after class.

Meanwhile, the media blitz for the Kids in the Hall DVD release tomorrow is in full swing, so I'm enjoying that and hoping I can catch all the appearances. We're going to a screening of The Saddest Music in the World on Wednesday, which I've been wanting to see for ages. (And MARK will be at the afterparty, and I LOVE MARK.) The next day, Dave is signing DVD's at Border's, but in the afternoon, which is stinky. I can go but some people can't. There's nothing I hate worse than standing in line for autographs (and really, I hate the concept of autographs in general), but I guess I'm looking forward to that to in a roundabout sort of way.

I've been here too long already. Bruce the Woodcutter Teacher will be cross.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:58 PM | shower me with attention