for the crowd

Hey, Stuff Goes On In This City

I have a valid excuse for not posting. Really. A friend of mine from the States came to visit for the past two weeks. Unfortunately for her, her first taste of Canada was Calgary, because I took her to see Trent Reznor. (Good show, by the way, even with the drum machine breaking down for a moment there). And I also annoyed the Hell out of her, probably, when every second thing I said was “Do they have [insert object/company/commercial/etc here] in America?” You know. Ketchup chips and et cetera. Apparently they don’t have the same angel in those Philadelphia cream cheese commercials where she is that we’ve got. And no Albert the manservant either. Or that really annoying strawberry-flavoured Mini Wheats commercial. Uh, anyway.

Beyond that, though, there’s nothing like someone showing up from out-of-town that forces you to rediscover and appreciate your own living space. I took her out to the Heritage Festival, Fort Edmonton Park, the Valley Zoo, the Telus World of Science to see the Bodyworlds Exhibit (pretty creepy and unnerving, but I definitely recommend it), and the Royal Museum to check out the Dragons exhibit. I also took her on a tour of West Edmonton Mall. To people that live here, the mall is just a mall, and I am usually among those puzzled and amused by the bewildering amount of tourists wandering around, until I realise our mall is equipped with a themed hotel, an amusement park, a waterpark, an ice skating rink… you get the idea. When my friend was here I even stopped to watch the sea lion performance. It’s a little too much. Apparently now Calgary is going to attempt to outdo Edmonton and build a bigger, better mall. So another friend of mine says. Who really knows if Calgary is that sad.

Anyway, another thing we did was attend this year’s Animethon. I usually attend every year, even though I inevitably just get annoyed. I mean, I’m a nerd and I know it. I’m friends with people who can’t stand “gamers” and so on, and usually carefully ignore my own weird-ass obsessions because as far as they’re concerned I’m still pretty cool and at least I shower. But I also have friends who are into pretending to be elves. Whenever I go to Animethon, though, I feel like I’m surrounded on all sides by crazy people who spend half their lives dressing up as people that only exist in a cartoon. Then again, whenever I go to places like concerts I feel like I’m surrounded by a bunch of idiots, and to go even further with that, whenever I go to a NIN concert I have to wonder why Trent has such a giant ratio of unattractive people for fans. I mean, can’t Nine Inch Nails fans go for a run, ever? This prompts me to turn to people I know and spitefully say, “Ah, the gothic subculture. One of the few places where it’s okay to be fat.” Wow, I’m a bitch. Oh well. Anyway, back to talking about the Animethon.

I missed last year’s because I was supposed to be attending the last day but, due to late flights and my inability to watch overburdened single mothers with babies struggle, I missed my flight and was stranded in Salt Lake City for a night. This year, Animethon practically robbed me at gunpoint, demanding a twenty-four-dollar entrance fee for Saturday. “It gets you into a lot of events” was the stern lecture I recieved when I expressed my disbelief at the price. Wow. That’s a far cry from the good ole days where you showed up with a donation for the food bank, and then would pay ten dollars to gain access to the vendors’ room if you wanted to. Also, they failed to give us our day passes; we had to go back ten minutes later when we realised this (because I asked the guy who was handing out booklets and schedules and he waved us by saying we didn’t need any such thing) and luckily they remembered us, but not before looking down on our ignorance (until I pointed out the mistake was theirs, though. So whatevs).

At least I recieved commendations for my bravery from a few fans, since I showed up in my new pair of black stiletto boots that could literally kill a man. One guy hugged me, and another, after I told him I was also wearing a corset under my dress, claimed that I recieved an Honourary Iron Man Award. Well, at least the majority of anime fans and the like, when all piled together, are really, really nice. My bitterness comes from the fact that I’ve known a lot of them that are just pricks and think they know everything, even about stuff they know nothing about, like, you know, life. Yeah.

What else to talk about? I can talk about seeing Bodyworlds. I admit to being incredibly freaked out, especially when faced with the pregnant woman. And the man that was set up in slices. Completely, utterly insane, and unapologetic, too. Very cool. I was hooked into wanting to go see it after a morbid episode where I was sitting down on my break at work to read the paper and read about the guy who was walking around at Capital Ex and The Taste of Edmonton mostly-naked with his musculature system painted on his skin. That was acceptable and normal until I looked at the photo and realised that the guy taught me in junior high. Mortifying.

The only thing I can say is that for big cultural events like, for instance, the Heritage Festival, I wish it wasn’t so goddamned expensive. It was still a lot lighter on my purse than Capital Ex was, though, especially its wine-tasting area. Yeah, they were selling little bits of food to go with the liquor and everything was sold by tickets, and one table was selling these cute, tiny little lamb pies for five tickets each. One ticket = one dollar. Five dollars for that? No thanks! I spent it on half an ounce of scotch instead. Yeah, I got pretty sloshed at Capital Ex, thanks for asking.

So that’s that! Edmonton. Lots of stuff going on here. But unless you pick wisely, it’s no fun if you’re broke. Psh. But let’s not end on a downer. Here’s a fun song to make everything better. And all that. I love this song right now. Not sure why. Heard it for the first time in a long time on the way to the airport because I was listening to the radio for once. Gasp.

“The moral of the date rape story, it does not pay to be drunk and horny”. Classic.


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