Sinister: i don't want to look like an imaginary dork

[rrrrobyn]

ah, sinister,

whoa, check out that comma, its invitating swish, suggestive of
oh-i'm-sure great things to come. mm, but yeah, it's possible too
that it signals a massive list of more of the same, one big sentence,
thesaurus-like in its running on, its over-explanation of what it is
exactly that i'm trying to say if only i knew the word for it,
dammit. 

oh, fuckit, i'll go back to the exclamation mark. i'm in montreal!
it's faboolous! i've been going through the expected gamut of
emotions for the past few weeks and wasn't about to subject the list
to that. but now i've been to class, explored the city a bit, met
some people, picked up all my stuff from the crazy industrial-area
shipping company, and am almost but not quite at all settled in.
hurrah! indeed!

holy crazy industrial-area shipping company, by the way:
so, i shipped my stuff from vancouver to montreal through a shipping
company for cheap  (b/c i gots the co-nections, yo), wherein one puts
all their stuff (which is usually, like, books or engine parts or
shampoo or things that are not the contents of robyn's apartment) on
pallates/skids and wraps it all in twenty layers of cello-wrap and
then puts it on a truck across the country so that when the stuff
arrives at its destination it all smells like deisel and cardboard
and maybe even a little like roadside diners. one also has to rent a
truck to go pick it up. but usually one has some kind of trucking
company do that for one b/c one is a company oneself and not robyn
who has to rent a 14-ft cube truck and get her friends to help her.
so i get to the depot and i'm, like, um, i have three skids to pick
up. and they're, like, oooh, three, oooh. but they speak mostly
french so it's more like, ooeeoo, trois, ooeeoo. but they were very
nice about it really and let me walk around the gigantic warehouse
searching out my three skids full of *all my worldly possessions*. i
found them easily enough (ah, yes, the  the futon frame sticking out
of the cello-wrap gave it away.) but the cool thing was that a guy
with a handlebar mustache and a jolly chuckle forklifted the skids
directly into the truck! no unpacking! only expert forklifting! it
made me really want one of those suits that ripley uses at the end of
aliens. you know the one. with the forklift arms. (not to mention the
welding torch.) then moving would be better. but then everyone would
ask me to help them out. i'd be like the friend with the truck,
except way more impressive and coooool.

so now i have a desk to sit at and a comfortable bed to sleep in. of
course, i put the nuts and bolts for my bed frame in the *stupidest
spot imaginable though at the time i'm sure it made sense*. they
literally were in the very last place i looked, i mean, i thought,
"agh, i guess they're gone, that's it, i'm going to home depot in the
morning to buy appropriately sized nuts and bolts. hm, oh, look, my
big bag of shoes." where else but in my big bag of shoes?! (no, not
the small bag of shoes. nor the laundry hamper full of shoes.) as if
that would be the first place i'd look, as if somehow my shoes and my
bed frame are connected. as if i would be rushing to unpack all my
shoes before anything else. no, really, but i obviously had this
thought while in a state of packing mania - "i will be living with
only three pairs of shoes for two weeks, therefore the first thing i
will need when i get my stuff will be a refreshing pair of shoes."
holy. crap.

i won't get into the wonders of school yet b/c it has barely started.
it will be good though. i can tell. hundreds of pages of reading each
week, mind you...

yes, anyway, *so*, i got to see LE TIGRE again! and it was greatness,
of course. the crowd was weirdly sedate, dancing-wise. i say, if the
band is dancing, you dance. and if the band is playing 'deceptacon',
you dance and hop up and down like a bluddy maniac. do it! do it now!
regardless, it was a great show that inspired me to be creative and
gutsy and such, and also made me happy to be a girl. whoo!

i could go on about things like the metro, my metrocard, the coolness
of the metro stations all deep underground but sometimes with windows
waaaay up high so you can make *damn well sure* that you are deep
underground, how underground transit makes so much sense and is so
fast and weirdly comforting, even though people off themselves at
least once a week in front of the hurtling trains, causing delays of
approximately 20-30 minutes, mostly during rush hour. but yeah, the
metro takes you where you want to go.

other excited, less mundane news: blonde redhead is coming! they are
good live. also sept 26-29 there is something called popmontreal
going on, which is all indiepop goodness that causes me to do dances
of joy and popitude.

the almost instantaneous return of mundane: i bought a kickass
screwdriver the other day. i wanna say that it's torque even though i
know torque isn't really an adjective, but, man, torque is the new
awesome, but with muscle power. dude, i totally put a deadbolt on my
door all by myself and it is so *torque!*. and also you could lament
as such: "ah, if only everything could be so very very torque..."
that's sort of how i've been feeling today. wanting torqueness, but
ending up with dorkness. (ooh, sorry, that's terrible. haha.) but
hey, it's warranted: i had to restore my computer to its original
state, reinstall windows, and *all that time-consuming crap*. it
sucked. it made me yell "fucksticks!" more than once. but it's over
now. and i still have the shiny new high-speed connection to brighten
my mood. and curry, i've got curry too.

the way it sometimes is,
robyn


=====
I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything. ~Steven Wright
~~~
Robyn Fadden    rfadden at yahoo.com    Montreal, QC

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