handjobs for the holidays

That's a Broken Social Scene song.

I'm at the end of Day 1 in my new Vancouver home. I'm sitting in my unbelievably comfortable bed listening to BSS and blogging and reading blogs and thinking about blogs. My cat just stumbled in, Cosmo Kramer-style. When I was younger, probably about 7 years old, I did Kramer impressions daily. I was a real card.

I cried all day yesterday, on and off, about leaving Winnipeg and not having any friends here. Everybody keeps assuring me I'll make friends easily. I'm trying my best to believe them but in the mean time I'm eating pickles and reading Anne Frank's diary. I remember in the 3rd grade I started reading it and only got about halfway through before losing interest in it and starting one of my own. I even named it like she did and wrote in the same style.

For tradition's sake I'll include the usual plane-bathroom-photo. I'm thinking of compiling them once I have enough and doing something with them. It's not vain because I don't look pretty in them. I look sad in this one and whereas that is partly true, it's mostly because I had just woken up from the least comfortable airplane nap I have ever experienced (full of violent and sporadic head-nodding and accidental teeth chattering. Ugh).



For now I leave you with my make-upless mile-high mug. Enjoy your night whether you are spending it in Vancouver, Winnipeg, or anywhere else. If you're in Winnipeg I want to pull a Freaky-Friday with you right now. Any takers?