Canadian Thanksgiving and more....

Wow. I had a great weekend. Really. I can't get over just how great my weekend was. It was fantastic. okay, okay. but, I just want ya'll to get this: GREAT.

[and, what's better, no men were involved in the making of this weekend...well, incidentally, but not like it hinged on them.]

Saturday I worked. It went by fast. The new girl is amazing. She's fun to talk to. I encouraged a customer to tell me his life story and it really made me profoundly sad, then rather happy that I am no longer dating someone who brings out the worst in me and hurts himself, someone who is not willing to face his problems of substance abuse. This guy was all sorts of messed up about a woman who's six months sober and is still working on her anger issues. I kept telling him at least she was willing to admit there was a problem.

Then I went over to my friend Laura's house for brunch and talkings. We had a lovely, easy time. She wasn't feeling too well, so we just slowly muddled through the day. We stopped at Urban Outfitters and I got some clothes on sale and found three panels of these curtains I've had my eye on for some time for five bucks each! I was amazed that when I walked in there, I thought to myself, I wonder if they still have those birdcage curtains and then further amazed that there were just enough for my front room/bedroom windows.

As our afternoon together waned, I headed back towards Siena to meet my coworker. We walked over to Piper's Alley and saw the new G.G. Bernal (as she calls him, the guy from Y Tu Mama Tambien, Gael Garcia Bernal) movie, The Science of Sleep. It was an amazingly well told movie about one man's tendency to blur his active dream life with his real life. I loved the movie so much, but it was like watching a twisted truth-is-stranger-than-fiction psuedo documentary of myself and goggles. There were times where I identified with the main character, and then times when I identified with the woman he falls in love with. Mostly, though, it was a whimsical and absurd movie that I enjoyed despite my feelings of the familiar. We loved G.G. Bernal's acting. He was so cute and lively. We giggled in fits throughout the movie. Also, I felt the movie bore a strong resemblance to Brazil, with less universality.

After the movie I headed home and had an uncharacteristically long phone conversation with my good friend Lehn. We're both not much for phone talking. But it'd been a while since we talked and it was good to talk to him. When I got to my apartment, I had a burst of energy and unpacked all my books and set them up on my bookshelf, even though it's not in the "right" spot, which is against a wall in my kitchen with a one and a half inch gap between it and the floor. I figure by the time they fix it, I may have to change the order of the bookshelf anyway, and I am sick of looking at boxes. I stayed up til 1:30 in the morning even though I had to work the next morning. I am so eager to get the rest of the unpacking completed.

I worked through the next morning in anticipation of a visit from my good friend Pete. But he did not arrive. I suppose he fell asleep sometime between his text to me early that morning and when I got to work. Afterwards, I went to pick up my mail from the old apartment. I managed to make it in and out in half an hour. I did have to stand through some obligatory gossip and since-the-last-time-we-talked questions. Pablo, the cat, seemed to recognize me, and we had a long petting session. Eric left me a check for his part of our phone bill, and his note revealed the complicated relationship that I was always groaning over between he and his roommate: he hoped that I had finally moved into my new place. That he even knew that I had not moved into my new place when I expected to meant that they must have told him I hadn't. grrr. I left knowing that the next time I see them, if ever, it will be completely up to me. I left knowing I might never see them again.

I hadn't had lunch, so I stopped off at the local Sbux to check if they had my favorite sandwich (the tomato mozzarella on ciabatta--so fucking good, I could eat it everyday) and say hey to all the people I know who work there. One guy that I've always gotten along with really well who is just a salt-of-the-earth kind of man was there and we had a nice talk about the things we do for our mothers. He and I exchanged phone numbers and may hang out sometime soon.

I went home and napped. I was exhausted. Later, I met my friend Kathleen for a special theatre thing she wanted to do. She tried to explain it to me, but it was kind of confusing. Soon I realized why. It is an annual performance/art display that this group RedMoon puts on once a year outdoors, usually in a different city park each year. Then, there are random theatrical performances inside the theme-park like venue. There were nine or ten "scenes" set up, each fairly static and meant to be viewed and taken in. The best by far was the Canary Chamber, where a woman wearing a yellow dress sat on a wooden swing and whistled bird calls among her "nest" of books. The best perfomance was a man and a woman who stood in a tower. They were covered in fine, regal dress. They had various accessories that were made of mirrors, so that whenever they looked at each other, they could see themselves as they appeared to their lover. Occasionally, they would look out at the crowd and wave, and the RedMoon theatre people clapped and cheered. Their vainglorious acts hinted at the celebrity culture and as the audience gathered and craned necks upwards to see them, became part of the commentary.

To get people to gather at performances, the RedMoon theatre team had mid-sized cranes set up a beefed-up golf cart with speakers and various objects hanging from the crane that fit the mood of the performance: a ceiling fan with light for a chess game, a disco ball for a dance, a bubble machine for a wedding party. People milled about the park at random, but when that crane was on the move, people began to follow behind as it traveled to a destination. A lot of times, children were the ones who followed the RedMoon staff, as if they were pied pipers. I was surprised by the number of children in attendance, and not only their presence but their palpable delight in the unstructured events and randomness of the displays. At one "scene" a swan danced around her nest and little girls in the background mimicked her movements in utter rapture. It is surely a spectacle to be seen.

As if my weekend could not be more packed and full of magic and wonder, there was more to be had. Kathleen's friend, a Canadian who lived nearby (who she called because she thought he would love the RedMoon show) invited us over to participate in his Canadian Thanksgiving dinner. I was excited for two reasons...I had passed on the option of having a boxed lunch at the RedMoon Spectacle, and ever since I met Marilyn, I've always been curious about a Canadian Thanksgiving. It turns out it's not like they eat anything very different from us, or if they do, this couple in particular didn't stray far from the typical American fare: turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc.

The most interesting thing was to be at a table of aspiring comedians and keep myself from spitting out wine or food during every bite. That was the most fun I've had eating in a long time. The best was when we "acted out" all the uncomfortable family conversations that inevitably happen during the holidays. My friend Kathleen said, "No one's said anything about my sell-by date..."

I puzzled over that for a second or two until the wife of the Canadian said, "You better get your eggs frozen before its too late!"

Cue laughter. After dinner, we watched a BBC show that I had never heard of called "Father Ted" that was hilarious. I love BBC comedy shows. They are so formulaic, but the stuff they get away with is funny.

This goes out to Beth. Happy Thanksgiving. I hope yours was full of good eats. I'm glad you're here and I got to meet you.

cheers.