I will gouge out your eyes with dull plastic knitting needles

I will be performing my piece, a short original warning tale in a costume, probably into a microphone and possibly with props in the Infringement 2006

Tuesday, June 20th, 9:30pm – Mardi le 20 juin, 21h30 – Les Minots 3812 St-Laurent
opening for a play called Sinking Neptune (by Optative Theatrical Laboratories)
je croix que c'est paywhatyoucan, unless Optative have decided on a ticket price for the full evening.


Alors, http://www.infringementfestival.com/montreal

de Jonquière à vous avec une grande mouche noir,
sarah

Sunday afternoon at Parc Lafontaine, I was feeding some bread to the ducks when this dude pulled up on his bike and completely LOST it on me-- he thought I was throwing rocks at them. "What did they do to you! How would you like it if someone threw rocks at you!" he scolded me in angry, angry french, as if I were his own disobedient six-year-old. At first, I thought he was accusing me of throwing rocks at HIM. Finally, when we tried to tell him "non, c'est du pain!" He sped off, swearing in french and following with "drink your wine" and a few more lovely insults hurled over his shoulder.

... what?
WHAT?


I really don't know what else to say.
I just hope this negativity isn't attaching itself to me, because I was still clouded by it as I tried to sleep last night. I began to believe that I had in fact done something wrong. Accusations can be powerful... we need to be careful pointing fingers. Blame can turn into guilt. Needless, stressful, life-draining guilt.

i am
a puddleapuddleapuddle a puddleabubbleabrothel a sisterasomethingorsomebodysomeday?

scroll to the bottom:

http://thesuburban.com/content.jsp?sid=23323671545354705113758425279&ctid=1000317&cnid=1005182

this was in september/october.
i just found it.
yikes, when those kids took my pic, I didn't think they were SERIOUS.

my friends got funny little haircuts
my friends drink from the bottle
my friends they sleep in the basement

oh

my friends dreamt that their teeth fell out
all that they did was just sit and pout
couldn't even chew so they wept about it

boo-hoo-hoo

when they awoke and their mouths were full
smiled shiny smiles and then tried to pull
them out again

ow owwww owwww

some people dream that their dreams come true
don't know why, they just want them to oh

like Cinderella and her shiny shoe
her godmother told her what to do
if you're unhappy find a prince,
or a pumpkin
either one will do

just so long as you have
something to exist to.


once the hockey game was finally over (double overtime!), the rock and roll recital ran rather well.

beads and beads and beads
lately I am making beads out of junk mail, and free condo magazines
cutting the glossy pages into long long triangular strips
(no paper cuts yet!)knockonwood.
chopping words and letters in their middles
rolling and rolling and rolling
and winding them around and around untwisted coloured paper clips
dabbing drippy white glue on the pointy parts
lacquering them with clear and sparkly nail polish
getting headaches and headaches
from the fumes
sticking the untwisted coloured paper clips into black styrofoam things
my vegetables came in that I never threw away
thinking and thinking and dreaming about fishing
through the dumpsters of the rich
and selling their old crap back to them as "art"

I got into the specialization in performance studies:

I want to be able to sing operalike
but I don't want to be an opera singer.
I want to train classically
but I will not perform night after night
for fur coat-clad, grown-up versions of the business students
who are rude to me at work
who will come to the opera
pretending to appreciate what I am doing
so that other people will think them cultured.

i want to sing to sing to do something good
to make noisesounds with my throat and diaphragm and lungs and lips and tongue and UVULA(the hangyball)
for substance

...to tell stories?

aUGH

i feel so scattered about my perf last night at action par-taay.
was it inappropriate/out of context?
maybe I should have followed my instinct and not told the magic stick story?

and DID YOU KNOW that somebody else, FROM MONTREAL, has already done the live-beet-grating-onto-white-clothing-as-a-symbol-of-the-human-heart thing? how was i supposed to know?
I actually did discover it while grating beets into salad last april. or so i thought.
bizarre.

i suppose everybody does things they're not entirely happy with once in a while. I've been lucky.

the autoharp song/lucky love outro went better than planned. that was when i felt right in my element. maybe i should stick to quirky sarah stuff, and bag the whole militant bitch vibe i've got going on. it's obvious why dude asked if I hate men, (only after telling me how much he enjoyed my performance) the magic stick story may have been a little harsh for the type of atmosphere/event that it was. But i am not going to apologize for having an opinion. the story is about RESPECT and MORALS, not just "some guy's dick falling off" (i had actually only intended for it to be interpreted as going limp). and Moto-erotic is not about all men! I just happen to think that guys who drive hummers and pump the bass might be trying to make up for a little ( <--ha!) something.
Isn't there such thing as a feminist who DOESN'T hate men? WHEN WILL YOU PEOPLE GET IT???????

posi moto-erotic feedback from a boy who knows I can't possibly scorn the ween: "it was like KRAFTWERK"
+I'm prob recording with will soon
and making some weird EA shit with the line dancing king of calgary (matt, father of asthma the pomelo)
and hugging my good friends

but energy = just d r a i n e dddd , maybe not just because of the rough barfly monday crowd. a general motif to build my next show around would probably be beneficial. it was kind of thrown together
hmmm, Maybe i'll wear my ninja turtle shell. we'll see what mr. barfly-dwelling football-jersey-wearing pool-playing red-haired rather large man has to say about THAT.

my biggest concern with performance art must be misrepresentation. i don't want to misrepresent myself, and I want my audience to understand that what they are seeing isn't all of me. It's a part of me, it came out of me. But it's not me. It's a character. Just because i scream about boys driving big cars because they have small dicks doesn't mean i'm gonna go all lorena bobbitt on y'all.
i'm not backing down, just re-evaluating my approach. it was valid, but it certainly wasn't ME.

(whoa, I must be having a classic "WHO AM I ...?" moment...)

heaven bless live journal, for sparing the ears of the innocent from this torrential townpour. i mean downpour. scrollbars are magical things.

so i've shown that side of myself. but I was supposed to be doing action party for FUN. I think next time I'm going to focus on the part of me that exists most often: curious sarah, full of bad puns and musings about inconsequential details such as the fact that the metro really smells like maple syrup sometimes.

ANOTHER ACTION PARTY!

MONDAY, MARCH 20
10:00 PM
@ BARFLY

YOU WANT SOME? COME 'N GIT IT!!!!!

cable stitching myself into oblivion
i sit in boxer shorts thinking about practicing piano
and eating toasted onion bread with margarine and jam
and maybe even leaving the apartment

I survived the three flights to thunder bay!

The third was awfully late, and so as consolation, we had complimentary bar drinks. The flight attendant handed me a cup of ice, a little bottle of whisky and a bottle of gingerale, telling me to 'go for it'. It was a very quick and exciting flight

Holy english! The excitement of not knowing which language you're going to begin in [before switching to the other halfway through the conversation]is little more than an urban myth here. Ontario.
...I tried to order an espresso allonge (I tried to explain "single LONG" and the poor girl was still bewildered. I settled for an americano.)I keep forgetting I'm not in quebec; that should dissolve soon.
Aunt Judy girl party is ruling. I love that I can talk to my relatives about big girl things now; we've had more than a few good (read: raunch) laughs. We ate dinner at Kelsey's and then drove past a billboard for a cremation centre that read "Think outside the Box".
Jill's baby shower was pink and frilly. One of the foster kids, upon looking at my lime green minidress, cowboy boots and sequined bolero, came to the conclusion that I was a princess. That is what my name means... though you wouldn't catch me in starbucks wearing sweats with my title emblazoned across my robust (ha!) buttcheeks.
More jilly-baby cuteness tomorrow, then the great northern ontario autoharp search.

dial-up connection means logging off is now
goodnight montreal; I'll see YOU on friday!

cafe ASIA is a kitschy, wood-panelled, red booth seat-filled, christmas light-lighted, exquisitely chinese dollar store ornament filled HAVEN OF LOVE AND WONDER.
aya and jasa joined me, to officially kick off the week of birthday festivalivities. purdy red candles, sparkling magic frog wizard statuette, astro turf + silk flower penguin demi god shaped creation (my friends are the chronic!) then watching david bowie's bulging package Labyrinth while sipping bengal spice tea with honey and ginger.

mmm birthday eats, as in anything but the soba soup I've been practically surviving on lately. kylie accidentally found a glimmering oasis of mexifood last night, where we had the salad with the most attitude I've ever encountered in a salad
among other spicy, scoopable, very messy foods.

so. who brings the 80s night on Sundays? 'cause that's when the REAL party is goin' down.

it's almost my birthday! almost AUTOHARP time!!!
said goodbye to my mullet this week. byee secretary hair, bye bye.

also, I really need to find the mountain equip co-op here. backpack and TENT are surely in my future, as I have been accepted for both Asterion and the Wolf Project. if everything goes as planned, I will be living out of the same backpack for about 2 months, with travelling, french, veg cooking, singing, planting things and lots of tentage along the way. excellent.

heading to t-bay for a week soon to see jilly's little angel, Annelise Violette.

today should consist of finishing The Secret People (John Wyndham), practicing, ear training, dishes, and maybe even laundry. i may venture outside to the Jean Coutu to pick up a package that arrived on Friday. it's all possible!

i love potato bugs

I think I went to bed at 8:30 last night.
I just woke up on the floor, in the "den" under my loft bed. I got up and brushed my teeth, still showing remnants of the delicious stew I had at mother hubbards (herb chunks!). I think I want to put on some regina spektor, go back to sleep, and dream about some day making my own brilliant, beautiful songs. I think I already had a dream about being half mermaid, a descendant of Ariel, and being able to switch freely between mermaid and leggy human. I think there was also a part about trying to take a bath in a java u mug that was inside my sink, only it was my parents' bathroom sink in windsor. bizarre. quite possibly a product of the intense discussion we had yesterday in Storytelling about the Disneyfication of so many fairy tales, combined with living at work and the confusing phone call from my parents, which half woke me but half just left me bewildered. does that ever happen to you? the phone jolts you out of a peaceful sleep and you are just so confused... "what is that noise?" you ask yourself, "how do I make it stop?". you eventually figure out that you have to ANSWER it, at which time the only function you are really capable of is babbling nonsense, serving to confuse the person on the other line, and further, yourself.

I could get a move on cleaning my apartment, now that I'm awake. There is still dirt in a place from where ADAM knocked my spider plant out of its pot. Poor spidey, you're dead. I want to get some little friends, rats or degus, but if I can't even take care of plants...

is anyone interested in going to esperanza for burritos this weekend? I think I need some burrito action, and not the amy's-out-of-the-freezer kind for a change.

Saburah's birthday is soon, I wish I could be in TO-RON-TOe. I am missing my TO crew more than ever. LEXXXXXX !!!!! BRANDOOONNNN!!! TARA!!!!! SABBBBB!!!! oh, nat, of swollen throats. Eat much garlic, breathe much eucalyptus.

I am hungry
I feel like knitting
I might need a hair-cut

good-day.

somebody post pics from action par-taay!!!

also, blue flying V uke-le-le(h)

adventure day with beardless will day,

slippery ice day, many coffees day

iris dinner music yay!

j'apprends de plus en plus francais

anyway...

it's true, the rumours are true

I will be arriving back in montreal this Saturday, december 31 at 5:07 pm,
just in time for some new years something
...anything?

why did I think jon stewart was in robin hood: men in tights?

he's not.

mmm.
white zinfandel in my parents' basement, while I click-clack around with some unfinished business. in slippers. so comfy fuzzy
my sister, she had her wise teeth extracted, i hope she doesn't become the fool
(she looks like a chipmunk)
all day was spent sleeeping, listening to soothing classical (non-christmas!!) music, and reading pretty much all of margaret atwood's latest, The Penelopiad

my mommy doesn't like my hairy armpits but she ate the cranberry sauce I ruined (needed more sugaaahhhh)

dad took me grocery shopping and bought tofurkey (so weeeiirrrdddd) and figs and plantains and avocados and all sorts of fancy things I never buy for myself. we got a mystery squash. I think it's a dinosaur egg, or a secret world. I mentioned this to the cashier, but she was too busy gossipping about dumb slutty things to appreciate my comments. so food, wooot. I will spend the next two weeks JUST EATING.

montrealers, je miss you beaucoup.

also, yves veggie italian sausages: why?
I don't know, but I am determined to find out!