December 23

I would describe my work motivation levels as low to very low. Who comes to the library the week preceding Christmas? Not very many people (my grandpa would add, 'Believe you me!').

Jason and I depart for Canmore tonight. I still have to (1) shower, (2) pack, (3) empty the trunk of my car and (4) load the blurry car with all the blurry gifts, etc.

Christmas shopping in my family is a consumeristic nightmare. I always exit Christmas feeling like I've eaten too much junk food: literally, but I'm talking figuratively right now. I don't like it. But I do like it.

More precisely, I'm embarrassed by it. The thought of Jason witnessing the spectacle of excess that is my family's approach to gift-giving is totally humbling. I had hoped that the sceptre of an outside viewer might excite sufficient shame to actually motivate us not to go overboard, the way we vow not to every year. I've spent the last few weeks trying to prepare Jason and protect my family ('I know it looks a lot like materialism, but actually it's not quite materialistic because I swear our values aren't totally fucked! Really! We know the spirit of togetherness and thankfulness and practice a suitably progressive, semi-irreligious Christmas giving of thanks and showing of togetherness! Please like them -- they're my family.')

Aside from Caligulan gift-giving excess, however, we do some really fun stuff. Namely sitting around, reading, watching movies, playing the occasional card game. I've been running so fast this week I'm looking forward to Canmore as an opportunity to just sit still.

December 19

There is so much to think about from this weekend. I love and hate the holiday season.

I hosted a potluck on Friday. I worried that no one would come or that too many people would come. I worried that we'd have 19 different kinds of cookies and nothing else (evidently I'm not cut out for the 'luck' aspect of potluck). But in the end everything was fine. There were many people, but not so many that we couldn't fit them all in. And there was plenty of selection. And so much cheese! My god, if I were a cheese-eater I'd have been thrilled. As a cracker-eater I was delighted.

Saturday night I saw Mark's band, Woodpigeon, at a church. They played with Remotekid. I must have seen Woodpigeon a half-a-dozen times in the last 5 months, but I don't tire of them. I can't believe that most of these songs weren't even written 7 months ago. Mark's friend Ching performed with the band for the first time, and she's got this gorgeous, soulful voice.

After the joyous-yet-peaceful church performance, we made the mistake of going to the Hop in Brew for a drink. Last Saturday before Christmas: it was packed. Sam's friends Owen and Steve made room for us at their table. Otherwise we'd never have found a seat. It was too noisy and hectic for me. I went home and slept late, barely making it to work on time.

The 2nd Annual Christie-Rodrigues Chess Invitational was Sunday night. I brought my little brother. Avoiding competitive chess required complicated sleight of hand on my part, but I pulled it off. Saying good-bye to Larissa a second time was sadder than previously anticipated. I fell asleep on the couch watching SpongeBob and was herded into bed at 2am.

What remains of this week is: a job interview, Christmas shopping, the chance to see some old friends, packing. Jason and I leave for Canmore on Friday.

I Was Killed by My Own Goop

The music associated with video games is nutty absorbing. Right now I'm kind of bouncing to Unreal Tournament 2004. And the music associated with Luxor is at least half responsible for my addiction.

Ryan and I attended the flywheel reading tonight. I really wasn't into it. Possibly that's because I feel like a Mack truck smashed me and then a plane landed on my remains.

16 years since the Montreal Massacre.

VIOLENCE

Helena Kvarnström is one of my favourite artists. I have three of her prints in my house. It's only money that keeps me from buying them all.

I got her book Violence in the mail today. I first read it in 2002 when she published it in zine form. The new version is mostly the same, but with streamed down prose and gussied up presentation (Tiphanie Brooke's cover design is beautiful).

Violence is a delicious, disturbing and ultimately compelling book. It shoves in your face everything you don't want to know about sex and disgust, desire and pain, love and violence. Helena's work has always been unsettling in its ability to tackle familiar pieties and to confront you with uncomfortable needs. Our refusals to see danger where it lies are deeply personal and protective, but Helena's book helped me to perceive the circumscription of my own thinking about love, sex and violence.

Shift & Switch: New Canadian Sexies

The Calgary launch for Shift & Switch is tomorrow night at McNally Robinson. It's an excellent anthology, and I'm not just saying that because my boyfriend is co-editor.