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Vancouver | Jinkies! It's the Parade of Lost Souls

As Velma from Scooby-Doo in Vancouver, Parade of Lost Souls

My lack of travelling coupled with an intense summer of social activity — not to mention the time invested in finding the elements for this Velma costume — has killed the energy of this site. However, it’s a new season, I’ve switched to a new theme, and I’m dedicating myself to upload all the old travel diaries (which I will direct you to in the near future).

And unless something serious happens in the next few months, I will be off on another long-term adventure early next year. Something’s in the works, my friends. I’ll let you in on the plan closer to the date, but I’m open to suggestions that will take me a little off-course… because, really, that’s always where the excitement lies.

Until then, I’ll post re: old diary and picture updates. The next few months will be an exciting, exciting time.

Jinkies!

The one o’ clock cannon, as taken by a tourist at Edinburgh Castle

I’m in Princes Street Gardens right now, trying to relax. Trying. A family on the bench across from me is definitely not in happy land, cursing the daylights out of each other. The mother has a perma-scowl and curses her children for anything they do. “Don’t sit like that!” “Don’t walk around!” “Don’t make a noise!” “Why aren’t you talking to me?!” and on and on. The only time I saw her crack a smile was when the one o’clock gun blasted from the Castle, making the kids jump and hide. Such a sadist.

I must admit the blast scared me as well. In the two months I’ve been here, this was the first time I’d been near the Edinburgh Castle around one o’ clock. I’d forgotten about this tradition, thought it was a fatal car bomb, and nearly soiled my trousers.

Speaking of which, my coworker Luci and her friend Barry worked at the Edinburgh Tourist Office and said their favourite tourist question was: “Where does the cannonball land when the 1 o’ clock cannon strikes?” Right on your head, madam. Right on your head.

I watched the “Songwriter’s Circle Program” on BBC2 last night, a wonderful program showcasing four different artists and their best acoustic tunes. I swooned when I heard Nick Cave. The CBC back home should take some tips from the BBC – I swear, their music industry is only where it is because the national broadcasters take time to promote it.

Vancouver | Post-Flash Mob Pillow Fight on Robson StreetA fatigued participant post-flash mob pillow fight

I never thought getting whacked in the head with a pillow would actually hurt. I only lasted a mere 30 seconds in the crowd, so believe me, I have a lot of respect for these people who kept taking hits for the entire 15 minutes:

Vancouver | Flash Mob Pillow Fight 2007, Feather Extravaganza on Vimeo

It’s great to see people getting together and having a little public fun, even on a rainy day. Vancouver, today you rocked long time.

SXSW Music | My last free SXSW beer & lunch @ Yard Dog Gallery, South CongressMy last free serving of meat @ the Yard Dog Gallery, SXSW

I have eaten enough free beef to form a new cow in my toilet. Thank god SXSW 2007 is officially over.

But enough of my bowel woes. For those of you there for the entire 10-day festival, I applaud you for your stamina and ability to get up out of bed by the third morning. For those of you not present, or don’t even have a clue what SXSW entails, please start planning your trip next year and experience the madness for yourself. Interested in film, interactive media, live music, and free stuff including Saucony shoes, food, and beer? Then get yourself ready for one of the most fantastically gut-rotting times in your life, mixed with a lot of good hearted networking and entertainment on the side.

It was life amplified to the extreme, packed into 10 days of constant schedules and activity, and it already breaks my heart to sit here at home, wondering what to do next. I’m more overwhelmed than bored; it was an inspiring time down in Austin, and I’m all pumped to bring all my dying projects to fruition. I just don’t know where to start.

Until I see you all again on 6th Street in the next few years, I’ll be busy reviewing my conference notes, milking this new-found creative inspiration, and labouriously digesting the 50 pounds of free barbecue brisket that festers in my tummy.

Toilet says, “moo.”

I’ve been a failure with the written blog. Please check flickr for the most up-to-date images from SXSW.

SXSW Music | The Pipettes @ Flamingo Cantina

I can’t explain how amazing this week has been, intellectually, creatively, and socially. Even the entertainment is more than I expected, and believe me, it takes a lot to please this little girl.

SXSW, I’m definitely coming back for more love. xoxo.

SXSW Interactive | Will Wright at play, in the Interactive Playpen

Will Wright, designer of Sim City, the Sims, and the upcoming evolution epic Spore, works on his own Lego creation for the SXSW Interactive Playpen.

Daylight savings time sucks. But so does any morning after a bout of careless drinking — which, I suspect, is probably a big reason why most of the panels I attended yesterday were more miss than hit… But today, today, my friends, is a fancy new Monday, and the conference has redeemed itself substantially. If this is what I get for being responsible and sleeping before midnight, then I may just do it again sometime this week. Sometime.

Today’s offerings included a panel on The Future of Online Magazines, a wonderfully content-friendly fiesta, a bonus for someone as technologically illiterate as I, gasping in a whirlwind of open IDs, metafilters, XSLT, and Ajax. (Gasp!) Plus, there was much more to the panellists than others I’ve seen so far, probably because they were all editors and founders of major, reputable online reads: Joan Walsh of Salon, Ricky Van Veen of CollegeHumor, Laurel Touby of MediaBistro, Sean Mills of The Onion, and moderator Rufus Griscom of Nerve and Babble. It’s clear that there was an existing camaraderie among the group, and the tongue-in-cheek self-aggrandizing behaviour was welcome after being subjected to a weekend full of panellists and participants who may take the game way too seriously.

Thanks, guys. I needed this morning laugh.

SXSW Interactive | The Future of Online Magazines

PS. Secret but not-so-secret Nerve/Salon/CollegeHumor/MediaBistro/TheOnion party this evening from 6:30-8:30 at Club DeVille (900 Red River Street), open to all badgeholders. OPEN. BAR.

I’ve returned with a face full of smiles and a bag full of delicious, good-god-don’t-leave-me swag. But Zefrank’s right — why are the Interactive conference geeks the only ones of the three that don’t get condoms in their bags? Are filmies & musicians more sexually active? Or do they just have more diseases? Hmm.

I prefer to keep my mouth closed on the matter, but will take personal offence at this blatant omission. I mean, I never!

SXSW Interactive | Oh, good lord, it's schweet schwag!

Coming soon: a detailed analysis of the corporate crap mountain stored in the big bag.

SXSW Interactive, in its first full day of panels, has not only offered a juicy cocktail of industry information but also an inspiring place to meet people who salivate about this thing called the Internets. Internets, we love you!

SXSW, Austin | Audience at the High class and low class web design panel

The buzz is intoxicating, and the panellists have been great… all except for one, of whom I’m not proud to say that I walked out on after 15 minutes. This pains me, especially since the speaker was a well-known and respected fellow Canadian. Gasp!

I like Douglas Coupland. Well, I did when I was in high school and obsessed with Microserfs and Generation X. From my decaying memory, his quirkiness and pop culture references as a writer are wonderful and spot on, and, well, in person, the content’s there, too. It’s just that Douglas Coupland is somewhat… awkward. No real surprise here, considering he’s an author and encompasses the typical quirks and scatter-brained nature that come from being an iconic writer of his generation. He’s definitely an intriguing case for a personality study, but my fellow Canuck here seemed to be speaking more for his own entertainment than for an audience eager to hear about what makes him tick. Again, that’s a noble thing about the man, and listening to this would be great if the context was a free lecture at the Vancouver Public Library. It just doesn’t gel too well for someone like me who has forked out 300 bones to come here and learn something new. I know about pot smokers in Vancouver. I do enjoy hearing about your speaking tours. But those moments of silence were painstakingly awkward, and I could hear the money ticking away.

And maybe that’s why he is who he is. I still like you, Dougie. By all means, feel free to drop by my apartment anytime for an evening full of non-sequitors… but not when it’s on my dime.

I stumbled into Austin a few hours ago, and already I’m in love. It’s kind of a blind love, really; it’s pitch black outside, and I haven’t been exposed to any of the nightlife that the city boasts. Still, I think it’ll be good.

SXSW | Taking their advice...

My accommodation this evening is situated two miles from the downtown core — that’s about 3.5 kilometres to those of you back home — right along the banks of the Colorado River… I can see the city across the way, yelling something like, “Hey! This is going to be your life for the next 10 days! Love me! Take me now!” And Austin, I think I will certainly love you, but it’ll have to start some time tomorrow. With the day-long interactive conference in full force tomorrow, mixed with free evening parties with free booze and hors d’oeuvres, followed by free concerts at the music festival and more free booze, and then pulling 2:00-3:00am nights in various SXSW clubs, it’s going to be a rough week.

It’s probably best that I just relax on the shore with a chunky issue of The Austin Chronicle, take a deep breath in, and enjoy the balmy evening breeze (71 Fahrenheit / 20 Celsius), since it probably won’t happen back in Vancouver for another couple of months.

Thanks for being my temporary home, Austin!

I’m responsible for the 10-minute delay at the customs x-ray machines. Apologies to all, especially to the elderly couple standing behind me, their tender tootsies all bare, veiny, and on public display.

The culprits?

DFW airport | What caused the 10-minute delay at customs

That’s right. Leave it to doofus here to forget the gel restrictions are still in place. A total of five perspiring customs and security officers were involved in the incident, just to give me permission to take my 4-pack of Hunt’s Banana Cream Pie pudding cups on the plane. A lot of kafuffle erupted around the desserts, including a staff member running back and forth, relaying information from one employee to another, making it seem like the world was going to end. An assertive lady whisked to the scene, and stated that since each cup contained less than 100ml of pudding goodness, I was permitted to take them on board. She then punctuated the statement by unfurling a Ziploc, noting that all my liquids/gels had to fit in one bag, or I was to dispose of them.

What’s stupid about this is that I already had a ziploc bag full of gels in another carryon that someone else had checked. So I scammed the system and ended up with more than my allotted amount of gels AND four delicious pudding cups for my layover here in Dallas-Fort Worth.

The sun is certainly shining down on me this fine Texan day.

AUSTIN, TEXAS, HERE I COME!

For someone who suffers from Internet A.D.D., scheduling for SXSW should only be done with the aide of an administrative assistant and a cup of soothing chamomile tea. Otherwise, you’ll end up like me, overwhelmed and quivering in a corner of the apartment.

The good thing about this whole event is that 1. I’ve scored myself a wristband, which, though overpriced and does not guarantee me a single thing, at least offers the opportunity to weave in and out of clubs at leisure and the luxury to move from one group of annoyingly inebriated spring breakers to another. And 2. I actually have accommodation set with an awesome host from couchsurfing.com, which is more than can be said for a lot of last-minute planners who will probably end up sleeping in public libraries, movie houses, or a puddle of their upchucked Pabst Blue Ribbon between gigs.

For other SXSW virgins like me, here’s a list of some useful sites to plan your week full of great music, sore feet, and ringing ears. Maybe you’ll become just as overwhelmed and sick as me. That’s right; I’m bringing you down with me!


SXSW Official Schedule of Bands

Get it.

Donewaiting.com
An incredible site listing great free day shows. If you’re low on cash, you’ll probably be able to see all of your favourite bands if you plan accordingly and are willing to wake up before noon hour. Indie favourites Architecture in Helsinki are playing around 3-4 free day shows, if that’s any indication.

Yaris-SXSW
Need to compare checklists with friends? Need to know where you’re going and if you’ll be able to leave the datarock show and make it in time to see Matt & Kim in time before you have to leave 15 minutes early to see Daniel Johnston and get back to the first club to see Peter Bjorn & John? (Gasp.) This is the place to do it, with Google Map and all.

Austinist
This isn’t specific to the music festival or of SXSW in general, but it does have a lot of great interviews and show announcements for anyone wanting to have fun in the city.

You’re getting sick, aren’t you?

Have fun.

I can count on one hand the times I’ve paid more than $15 for a haircut. Maybe my friends are snickering in the background, whispering, “No wonder” to each other. Fine. Judge. But look who’s saving money and who’s not, Miss I-Got-Extensions- &-Highlights-for-only-$200. Please!

The last “expensive” hair cut ($45) I received was at Misako’s Hair Salon (888 Davie Street, 604-683-8853). The joint is staffed by a team of hipster Japanese youths with their finger on the pulse of every breaking, happening trend, which is paradise for someone with lifeless and flat Asian hair like mine. So I figured I deserved to have the appearance of being hip this past holiday season and spent the “big bucks”. My stylist’s name was Shuzo, a new arrival to Canada who barely spoke English. However, despite some communication problems, I was endeared by the fellow, namely because he kneeled down beside me and asked me if I wanted my hair to look “cute” or “cool”. I opted for “cool” and after a soothing head massage and chopping session, left rather pleased. And with typical Japanese courtesy, he bowed his head when I paid my bill and then ran out of the salon to prop the door open when it was time for me to leave. If I wasn’t all bedecked in my runners and ripped jeans, I would have felt like true Asian royalty.

However, as wonderful short hair can be sometimes, it ends up looking like a mop in a matter of two months, and spending $45 each time is a pain for someone who depends on unreliable contract work to fill her pockets. Sorry, Shuzo.

Your best bet if you’re cheap and willing to deal with people who don’t speak English are the joints in Chinatown. The service may be surly at times, and at other times a bit over-eager and pandering, especially if you’re a non-Asian, but you can find haircuts for as little as $7! If you’re okay with a lack of style or just want something shorter, this is perfect. In fact, my locks were chopped last week for a paltry $8 at Carmen Beauty Studio (150-139 Keefer Street, 604-685-1088), just across the street from the mall on Keefer, west of Main Street. The older man cut my hair with strict Chinese efficiency, and it turned out just as I’d hoped. To show my gratitude, I offered a 50% tip. Do the math, and you’ll see that everyone wins.

Vancouver | Chinatown hair salon and freaky heads

Many other Chinatown salons exist for just as cheap. You’ll just have to prowl the area yourself and judge the stylist by his or her own haircut. It usually works.

Hairport (740 Davie Street, 604 688-9099), close to Misako’s, was all right the first time, but befriending the lady can be disastrous to your precious hair if you’re concerned about length. This cute Vietnamese lady has good intentions, but aches to talk for a decade and will clip and clip and clip until you say stop. Be on guard if you’re the last person in the joint, because she will, indeed, go out of her way to keep talking and clipping. But if you’re in the market for a slick buzz cut, this is the perfect place to go.

Burrard Hair Design & Skin Care (2421 Burrard Avenue @ Broadway, 604 738-1808) is hit and miss. It’s approximately $14 for a cut, but I’ve gone there enough to say that it has about a 25-50% success rate. Only one member of staff can be considered a “stylist”, and it’s quite obvious who it is once you spend some time there — she’s the only one with an immaculate hairstyle and, even more telling, constant traffic in her chair. If you get her, you’ve scored, and the success rate could be elevated to 75%. If one of the other rotating members of the team stands behind you, don’t panic. Just ask her to substitute the razor/hair-thinning device with a pair of scissors. I know it’s only $14, but you deserve a real haircut.

For real adventurers, prowl Craigslist for ads by hair design students in the “volunteer” or “free” sections. I know one pretty trendy girl who gets her hair cut by craigslisters on a regular basis for free, and she looks good.

Again, it all depends on your hair type and how finnicky you are as a person. If you tend to be dissatisfied and Mr. or Mrs. Picky-Pants with most things in life, stick to your $100+ stylists. For the rest of you, enjoy the ride and let me know about other cheap hair salons. I’ll will enteratain all recommendations: after all, I’m cheap and none too proud.

YAHOO!

Plane ticket. Check. Hostel and couchsurfing plans. Check.

It’s still a month away, and already the mere thought of heading down to Austin sends oozy-woozies up my spine! (Believe me, that’s a good thing.)

The primary intent of the trip has shifted from the music festival to the interactive conference: I feel like I’m at a career crossroads of sorts, and in an effort to fully determine whether the field of technology and Internet is the right one for me, I’m going to wear my conference lanyard with pride and hop around with other geeks in Austin, pretending I’m actually a part of the new media / Web 2.0 industry. Ooh! Networking! Ooh! Learning!

But so long as you don’t think I’ve abandoned the idea of having fun at the SXSW live music festival, I’ve compiled a tentative checklist culled from the preliminary list on sxsw.com. These will likely change as schedules are cemented. If any of you random blog readers have suggested must-sees, send them this way. EX.CI.TING.

***

Beirut
Annuals
Architecture in Helsinki
Au Revoir Simone
beach house
Badly Drawn Boy
Bishop Allen
Bound Stems
Cloud Cult
Daniel Johnston
Data Rock
David Cross
The Detroit Cobras
Frog Eyes
Interpol
Junior Boys
Junior Senior
Ladyhawk
Mando Diao
Menomena
Rock Plaza Central
Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin
Sondre Lerche
The Presets
Tokyo Police Club
Thurston Moore
Under Byen
Chad VanGaalen
Watson Twins
We Are Wolves

PS. Anyone going alone or like meeting new peeps? Want to say “hi”? Come on, do it! I’m a friendly Canadian and I swear I don’t bite.

I’ve bemoaned the cooler-than-thou nature of Vancouver for a while now, but it’s come to my knowledge that a smile and a few words of enthusiasm go a long way. And so do fire alarms.

In Toronto, I shacked up in a ghetto apartment located in the heart of Fraternity-ville: The Annex. The complex itself was inhabited by intoxicated students, a sorry bunch of seniors who ate cat food, and a middle-aged man who pushed his seven Pomeranian puppies around in a stroller. When the fire alarm rang there, which it often did due to the intoxicated students, the mere thought of forcing myself to (gasp!) TALK to my unsavory neighbours outside sparked an internal conflagration so grand that it would be far more preferable to burn inside. Plus, I had a balcony, which gave me an opportunity to play the suffering maiden if there really was a fire. Come on, I take romance where I can get it.

Anyway, the alarm rang in my Vancouver apartment just moments ago, and out of habit, I stayed in my PJs and shrugged the whole matter off. But when I’d realized I hadn’t talked to anyone all day due to the solitary nature of my job, I went outside, bid my neighbours a hello, ran off to the local coffee shop, and ended up having a jovial conversation with my latte-maker. I followed this by hovering around the front lobby with my neighbours and dabbled in a bit of concerned discussion there as well. The ladies of the building admitted they only came down to check out the firemen, so I joined them to ogle the middle-aged lads sauntering into the building. Discovering the lack of eligible hotties, we laughed it off and decided to return to our respective abodes… taking home with us a slice of much-needed community.

A friend of mine mentioned something about a Vancouver grassroots campaign to get people talking to each other. He was unsure of the name, but it had something to do with passing around buttons proclaiming “It’s okay to talk!” If I ever find one of these buttons, I will snap up 100 of them and distribute them to anyone who cares. We don’t talk enough, but when we do, when we let our guard down, it feels right. It feels like what the good part of “being American” offers: that confidence to be able to talk to anyone and not worry about what they think of you.

Or, you know, I can just simply bank on another fire alarm. I mean, if nothing else, the ladies of the building will be happy about that.

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