a week and a half ago, on wednesday, i worked until 3:30 and then took a bus/a ferry/some more buses into downtown vancouver, where i met my friend em outside of the commodore ballroom. we had just enough time to run across the street and drink a beer while catching up on the general gist of one another’s lives before going to the concert. tilly and the wall were playing their last few songs, and though i can’t say i’m completely enamoured with the band itself, i am a huge fan of random acts of theatrical nonsense and the tap dancer who joined them on stage definitely fit the bill. i want a tap dancer to follow me around and accent my everyday life, for realz. i think it would ensure that nothing is mundane ever again.
the main act, the band that we’d come to see, was cansei de ser sexy. i first found out about them from a review in bitch or bust or some other feminist pop-culture mag, ages ago, and then their song “music is my hot hot sex” became an anthem of summer 2007. a year later, and i’m still pretty keen… though admittedly not gung-ho enough to push to the front of the crowd like i do for most shows. em and i retreated to watch from the safety of the balcony, where we were high above the heads the rest of the concert-goers. it was great, and i made a really poor-quality video of their performance of “music is my hot hot sex” for your enjoyment.
afterwards, em and i walked all the way back to her house in the east end. not the smartest plan, considering my tight time schedule, but it was the best part of the trip and the real reason i went: i needed to visit with her, very very very much. went to sleep @ around 3 am, got up @ 7 am, caught a bus, then another bus, then another bus, then a ferry, then a bus, and then another bus, and was back in my office before 12 noon. the speakers’ series event that i’d helped to organize went off without a hitch, and i was grateful to collapsed into my bed that evening.
then the next day i got sick, and in the meantime the cat required minor surgery for an abscessed fight wound, and really i can’t believe how much time has passed since i was sitting in the bar on granville street, drinking beer with em.
[photo: pedestrian overpass in the wee hours of the morning, vancouver]