Haircut at 10:43pm

I’d gone without a haircut for at least two months. I’d been cutting it myself for a few years until I met L. She’s the queen of the mushroom cut and, when I asked her if she could cut my hair, she became enthused about the prospect of learning how to fade. She’s been cutting my hair for almost a year now. Over the last few weeks, we’d been playing phone tag and running into each other; making vague plans for an appointment, but they kept slipping away unrealized. Yesterday, I received a photo with a note scrawled on the back of it in my mailbox.

Book Soundtracking: The Idiot

It’s Halifax Pop Explosion, which means there are a bajillion shows happening all the time. The line-up this year is really strong and last night was perhaps the finest bill of the year: at Reflections, Sheer Agony, Cousins, Bloodhouse and Thee Oh Sees played. An impeccable line-up, if you ask me, irresistible even. I was exhausted by 10:30pm, but I had to stay to see it all. It was a great show and when I got home at around 2:30am, I set to sleeping heavily. I woke around noon today.

The Mysterious ‘Frank/Francis’ Mix

Today I woke up early, though I didn’t have much to do. After checking my e-mail and throwing a load of laundry in, I struggled to find direction in my day. I chopped some potatoes and put them in the oven for roasting. I’ve been using my little handheld cassette player/recorder as a stereo in my tiny kitchen. I keep a little stack of tapes on rotation. Right now there is:

The Midway Fair

G and I had just ditched a Thanksgiving dinner to watch the sun set over Shad Bay. We were driving back into town, trying to decide how to extend our little runaway. As we deliberated, to our right we saw bright lights flashing in Exhibition Park (one of those bizarre catch-all stadiums/conference centers, built just beyond an industrial park at the edge of the city). Towering over the tree line was a Ferris Wheel.

The Drum Pick-Up

A Sunday evening, I had dinner at my parent’s house. I drove their pick-up truck back into town at around 10pm. When I got home I realized that, along with this truck, came an opportunity. I’d lent my drum kit to a friend to do a month long tour and now they were sitting in his friend’s living room. I had to get them from his friend’s house to my bandmate’s flat. This meant contacting G, my pal with the drums, him contacting his friend who was temporarily housing them, him calling me back, me contacting my bandmate to see if he’d be home, and finally, both G and I trying to track down a vehicle. A clusterfuck of inconvenience. We’d done this song and dance a few times over the last two weeks to no avail.

Early Morning Airport Run

I woke at 3am, shot out of bed and rushed to a hotel downtown. Biking through the streets, somewhere between sleep and a waking state (much like the city itself), I saw few pedestrians and even fewer cars. I’ve taken a job driving for our film festival: spending too much time idling in valet parking, snacking on fruit at the airport and making small talk with delegates. Working ten to twelve hours a day, my life is starting and stopping at all hours.