April 28-29 Weekend Review

  In the spirit that inspires this blog, I visited one of the events from the past weekend. I give Cocktales eight out of nine Mr. Limpys. (All links probably NSFW).

   Cocktales was a Writer's Festival event hosted by Venus Envy. I've never been to Venus Envy before and didn't suppose that a visit was necessary — you've seen one sex shop, you've seen 'em all. You have to ledge-walk between shelves hoping you don't knock over one of the “couples” board games and people think you've dropped it in your excitement, or try not to stare into the cavernous displays from the DVD shelves, or dodge poorly placed accessories.

   In these stuffed and dank shops you're being held hostage by your own disgusting sexuality.

disgusting.

    Refreshingly, Venus Envy is well-lit, pleasantly spaced, and has a crazy amount of educational books that don't always explicitly deal with sex but with health. Brochures and posters advocating safe sex and sexual health line the store. It is an open and respectful environment for talking about sex.
It's wonderful.

  

  The readers were fantastic. Daniel Allen Cox (he he!) of Basement With Wolves, Jasmine Aziz of Sex and Samosas, Nerys Parry of Men & Other Natural Disasters, and Tamara Faith Berger of Maidenhead were all awesome, articulate, and funny. I thought that the event was going to be a panel discussion on sex but it was actually a book reading. Then I thought that the readings would be Harlequin-y. However, each of the stories could stand on their own even if they removed the sex.

   It was a really great time.

   EXCEPT! This penis-looking mother-effer bought a carrot, cucumber, and gravel sandwich and was obviously worried he would choke to death. He would not stop chewing. He would unhinge his jaw, take a massive bite, and mash that single bite in his mouth for minutes. MINUTES. You could see his stupid tendons and head-veins moving under his skin. It was awful.

   Then — as if to prove that he is an asshole in all areas of his life — he chucks the sandwich garbage underneath the chair of the person in front of him. I hate him.

Cheneka's Birthday. An Evening To Remember That Noone Does

    In the spirit that (hopefully) perpetuates this blog, I attended one of the events from the past weekend.  I give Cheneka's Birthday experience a rating of 11 out of 11 dodged date rapes.

    Historically, St Patrick's day has passed resentfully under-celebrated while making sandwiches or hawking retail. This year, in the intense anticipation of Cheneka's birthday, the sense of jubilation was so strong that I woke up 12 hours before I would see the fille d'anniversaire and headed downtown to join other Ottawaians in this the day of misplaced nationalism.

   
The first stop was The Mud Oven where my mug was finally unveiled (see update) and then to Wag Pet Shop/Cafe with a friend and her socially retarded Great Dane, Olive.
    Olive is a well-intentioned gentle giant. One might describe her as the Lennie in any relationship. One of the saddest sights is watching a scruffy dachshund with a Napoleon-complex angrily defend his family against this tall, misunderstood dog/horse. To be fair, Olive's physical appearance epitomizes the symbol of despair, sorrow, and impending death in the English Language, which may stir some feelings of panic when she's galloping at you.

    As the noon-hour loomed, we made our way to James Street Pub to get St Patrick's Day underway (with a stop at the liquor store for good measure) and met up with my favourite (and notorious good sport) St. Patrick's traveler.

    St. Patty's garb is stupid. Anyone with any dignity wears a green shirt or some pants (if you're really kooky) and leaves the green beer-shaped goggles, tall hats, and dumb beads at home. However, a very persuasive and charismatic waiter came around with green and free foam hats. I wore mine until my hairline was warm and sweaty. 

 

Not Pictured: my sopping forehead.

 

    As the beers drained and our little group dispersed, I found myself back in Nepean to prepare for Cheneka's birthday. There were adorable Irish folk everywhere. I had a nice conversation with a slightly inebriated gentleman who looked exactly like your pot-of-gold leprechaun:

But actually probably looked more like:

    I finally made my way to Cheneka's house where the festivities began for her and continued for me. The plans were to go to the bar for some dancing and fun, but our friend was having a get together at his place. It was decidedly the polite gesture to go there first and exchange some pleasantries with old/new friends.

    As with any celebration in the spring, the matter of choosing a flattering outfit that you won't freeze in is an emotionally daunting task. I, by some sort of medical anomaly, was no longer affected by the cool air but Cheneka was still faced with the problem of dressing. Luckily, she sorted it out for herself as the evening wore on.

   Though we never did make it to the bar, we had a grand time at the house party where such exciting events as this

this

and this

happened.

   A mere six hours after we had returned to our respective sleep-holes, the call to action came in.

March 10-11 (bonus Friday)

Friday

“I Am A Feminist, But...”

Although bra-burning is terribly outdated, (not to mention uneconomical) this evening-celebration of International Women's Week is a modern hoopla of sisterly solidarity.
There'll be a talk-show-panel style discussion on the feminist year in review, a short film called 'Sh*t Feminists Say' (probably inspired by this, this, and this), a (vaguely described) contest, and the Fourth Annual Femmy Awards.

There will also be a cash bar (my second favourite kind of bar) so you'll still be able to get a little drunk and say something sexy to a feminist.

Library and Archives, 395 Wellington St. $9.00. 6pm
click for website

Saturday

30^th Annual St Patrick's Day Parade

The Ottawa Irish Festival starts March 8^th but is kicking off this Saturday by snaking a line of Irish-enthusiasts down Bank Street.

There will be (or at least discussion about) Irish-themed music, poetry, history, song, dance, theatre, language, and sport.

The Ottawa Food Bank will be collecting so bring your non perishables.
If it's anything like I expect it to be  it ought to be a rousin' good time.

Laurier Ave West + Elgin to Landsdowne Park. 11am - 1pm. 613-591-9194.

www.irishsocietyncr.com

Sunday

Live Entertainment and Pancake Breakfast

In keeping with the theme of Impending St Patty's Day, St Brigid's (of St Brigid's cross) Centre for the Arts is hosting a delicious breakfast and live entertainment. Volunteer musicians from the Irish community will be a-serenading while you wolf down pancakes, fruit, ham, homefries,and coffee.

You can also pick up a loaf of Soda Bread and stop by Irish Eyes gift shop to get all your gear for St Patty's day.

St. Brigid's Centre for the Arts, 310 St. Patrick St, $5.00. 10am - 12pm

www.saintbrigidsccentre.com

All Weekend

The 18^th Annual Travel and Vacation Show

A consumer travel show with the added benefits of a Trade Show. If this is anything like the Sexapalooza trade show, there'll be $40 purex glass phalli.

Ottawa Convention Centre, 55 Colonel By Drive. $10.00. 10am – 5pm

www.travelandvacationshow.ca 

The Mud Oven

They're a paint-your-own ceramics studio! You pick a vessel (mugs, bowls, vases, tea pots, frames, goblets, candleholders, and more), design and paint it, and leave it with the staff to glaze and fire for you to pick up in a few days.

My friend, struggling to come up with a gift idea, called to ask for a ceramic-painting-companion. I have since been paralysed by all the possibilities a blank canvas holds.

My ideas so far:

Reservations are recommended and party packages available.

The Mud Oven. 1065 Bank St. Saturday and Sunday 10am – 6pm. 613-730-0814

www.mudoven.com