Monday, December 03, 2007

Active Weekend Reflection (NOT "Weekend Acid Reflux")

On Saturday my mother and I ventured out to buy me a Christmas tree. I'd hoped for something about five feet high, but fake trees apparently come in only two sizes: miniscule or enormous. Fortunately, "miniscule" plus "end table" equals "medium," and the darn thing even has tasteful white lights on it. Some pictures (and nostalgic reflections) soon!

That night, I slogged through the first half of the next "mini-drag show" video. The "Monkeys" video involved just three setups and five scenes; this one has eleven setups and twenty-six scenes, which is a bit much to squeeze between "getting into drag" and "going to the bar." Hopefully I can film the rest of the scenes next weekend.

To make the process more efficient and rewarding I've learned to repeat scenes several times and pick out the best version, reducing how often I need to jump up and down to turn the camera on and off. For that reason I have some pretty strange raw footage. Here's a brief snippet of a Saturday-night repetition, to confuse you, tantalize you, and to prove that I really AM doing something, even if it's creepy:

After that: Club Abstract for drinkin', dancin', and socializin'. Since we were effectively trapped in the bar due to a terrible snowstorm, many of the hornier patrons were palpably desperate, which was entertaining to watch. Best of all: meeting DJ Jeff, briefly back from Japan. Jeff was the "goth night" DJ for many years (long ago), and whenever I hear Front 242 I think of him. Love you, Jeff!

For a few relevant pictures (and a few more "Zsa Zsa Collector's Photos"), plus a shot from Guelph's "Kink 2" night, go to Flickr.

The Goat AGAIN!

(For those concerned with my emotional wellbeing, you'll be happy to hear that I think my foundation issues are licked. I'm still working out how much powder I can get away with -- and as a result I look a bit spotty by 2am -- but it's all uphill from here).

Speaking of uphill at 2am: there were no cabs available when the bar let out (basically because there were no roads anymore). I stomped my way home through the frozen, blowing snow, buffeted by gusts and confined to the tire tracks of the few adventurous cars.

Far from being a chore, this was beautiful. No vehicles, nobody outside, no traffic rules. With the snow baffling all the sound, the only things I could hear were the trees bending over in the wind and my own crackling footsteps.

I took a video of my walk but you don't want to see it; it doesn't capture the spirit of the thing and you can mostly just hear me snorting back my cold-weather snot. Some things are best experienced first-hand.

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