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[personal profile] generaljanuary
Firstly because I haven't posted in a while (in my own manic standards), and secondly because I feel like crap, rolled in needy and insecure, served in a shiny okay wrapping, because, you know, can't make people around me worry.


As Promised :Montreal two weeks ago.

My favourite signer is an obscure canadian signer-songwriter who's been around for about ten years and as many albums. He is gorgeous, funny and just an all around very mysterious,poetic and peculiar being.
First time I saw him in show, he made a joke at which I laugh so hard he actually stopped his song to tell me I had (I quote) a great laugh.
Second time I saw him live, I might or might not have stolen his gorgeous red silk neck tie. (Okay, I did, and I spend the first night wearing it because it was still wet with his sweat. God I even creep myself out.)Anyway, thing is I still feel guilty about being a downright thief and taking something beautiful from someone beautiful, but I survive because it's Hawksley Workman's f****ing neck tie!

So yeah, wore layers upon layers of clothes to fight the biting cold of late November; snow's already out and proud weatherman says to expect anything. Pack my Airoldi pop art bag full of all the crap I need for a two day escapade; mp3 player, books, chewing gum, bottle of water, make up (What? I'm going to a show and I need to look good for Mr. Workman. hehe), wallet and passport.

I had known since the Metric concert in September that I'd be going to see my most beloved in Montreal in November so a bit of the excitment had died down and I was quite distraught to be so despondant about it (How many conflicting emotions can I squeeze in one sentence? A lot apparently.). It was in a venue I had never been to before and it wasn't situated near to the hotel I usually stay at. Complications, complications.

So, three hour bus ride, suspended time, a few lines of bad road poetry. Finally get to the cold and grey metropole feeling sore all over. I had to use *gasp* Montreal's public transportation; an intricate labyrinth of subway and bus. But Gods and Godesses! The public transportation employees in Montreal sure are an exceptionally unhelpful and unpleasant bunch! For such a big touristic city, it might be a good idea not to look at people like they've just sprouted a second head if they happen to ask one simple yes/no question. *sigh* Anyway, I did stay at my usual hotel, owned by a charming (read unsufferable) chinese lady who does not speak one word of French and a very mangled English. It's cheap and clean and familiar territory since I've stayed there three times before. So, I tart myself up in my hotel room (I kinda like to go crazy on the make up when I have special occasions)put on the red silk tie, ride the subway for 5 minutes and walk for another 45 before I finally find the venue (quite cutely named "La Tulipe"), buy my ticket. ("Two tickets, mam?" " Nah, just the one." "...Oh...") Mission complete! I navigated my way through unknown streets in the busy metropole and found my destination! I deserve warm coffee and and a prosciutto ciabatta sandwich!
So picture the scene: I'm all tarted up, complete with purple lipstick et all, wearing my favourite signer's necktie, sitting at the window seat of a cafe, absent-mindedly scribbling in my notebook while nibbling at a sandwich when I raise my gaze and see Mr. Workman walking by, in the flesh, all normal-like, his hands shoved in his jeans pocket. And. He. Looks. Up. At. Me.
I get this weird thing with celebrities and whatnot. I forget that they are real people. To me, they distantly seem like gods or characters from a book or movie. And when I do see them for real I get all tingly. And, well Hawksley Workman to me is in an entirely different category. I saw his face on a poster advertizing his gig the other day and I was so surprised my heart stopped beating and I yelled. Ask Seb if you don't believe me, he was the poor soul who had to be embarassed on my behalf.
So, back to the scene. He looks up at me and pulls a strange face. Might be because I just went stiff like a board, might be because my eyes are so wide they're about to pop out of my flabbergasted face, might be because I'm wearing his favourite necktie. Who knows.

My brain either went so slow it stopped working or so fast I couldn't register what it was thinking, but next thing I know, he comes into the cafe and orders a tuna wrap, or something. (All I could hear was my wildly beating heart.) And at this point I realize I'm shaking like a blender on full power because A)I'm still holding my pen in one hand and it's moving erratically across the page now smeared with a pretty good rendition of what my hear-rate would've looked like if I'd been hooked on one of those beep-beep machines and B)I'm still holding my cup of coffee in my other hand and there's more coffe spilled on me and the table than there is actually left in the cup. I try to get a grip on myself, wipe some coffee off my shirt, put on a scarf to hid the tie and as he walks next to my table to go out, I get up, grab my pen and notebook and ask him, in French (because I know he has a pretty good grasp of it and just I heard him ordering in French with an adorable accent.) "Excusez-moi? Etes-vous Hawksley Workman?"
And he freaking smiled at me. I don't know how I kept standing up, I was so dizzy I thought I would collapse. He sweetly goes: "Oui." To which I answer with all the conversational skills and wit I possess: "Wow... I'm shaking." *smacks self* Could I sound more stupid?!? "Could I please have an autograph?" at which point I prove to him that my earlier statement was true by shoving my pen and notebook in his general direction, still trembling madly. So he says "Mais bien sur!" and he does while I tell him I can't wait for tonight's show. and he goes "Oh!" And he's all bashful and does a little bow. And he gives me back my pen and notebook with a smile, a wave and a cute "See you later, then!"
Automatic-pilot from there, I collapse back into my chair, the silliest, widest smile ever plastered all over my face, still shaking uncontrollably. I swear I was unable to function for the next half-hour. Even two weeks later, thinking about it, my whole self turns into jelly. I'm that much of a silly groupie. haha.

Anyways, show was great. I even liked the supporting act. *gasp* I usually can't stand supporting acts. I got to buy the three cds of him I still hadn't bought because they aren't sold in stores.

Went back to my hotel for the night, the only thing I had planned the next day before getting on the bus that would bring me back to Quebec city was to visit the main street bookstore because it's huge and has a gay literature and a gay movie section (what with being situated in the gay village and all) And i finally got my dirty paws on Dream Boy by Jim Grimsley. I have been wanting to read that book for over three years. My favourite story on Fictionpress.com had been discontinued after people complained the content was similar with that of this book and I had been dying to read it ever since. I'm still not done reading it. I know how it ends and I know that at the point I'm in in the story, it's only spiraling and spiraling inevitably towards that tragic/hopeful ending and it's actually painful to go further. Everytime I pick it up, I read about a paragraph and put it back down, delaying the moment when I do finish it. *sigh*


Wow. Well that was quite long and un-edited. Haha.
Here's a hilarious video by Hawksley Workman. I have actually written an essay about the sexual symbolism in this particular videoclip, it just drips with it. In the end, it even pans out to a completely white sky. *giggles* How much more subjective can you get? Apparently much much more as this shall prove:

Date: 2008-12-08 03:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mightymaeve.livejournal.com
Hee hee. "All tarted up" with PURPLE lipstick. GOds, I so want to hang out with you! I just ran out of my tube of silver-blue lipstick and can't find a replacement!

I know this singer too! Yay for Canadians! Actually, he was born not too far from where I live now.

"I laugh so hard he actually stopped his song to tell me I had (I quote) a great laugh." SQUEAL! I wish I was beside you when that happened! Enthusiasm is infectious!

Date: 2008-12-10 08:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fanny-moon.livejournal.com
Haha. I love eccentric lipstick. Every one else I now is rather conservative with their make up so I'm usually the odd one out.
And yeah, I tend to be a magnet for these kind of moments :)

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