Archive for April, 2008

high park picnic

Published
by
MP
on April 22, 2008
in Andrew and MP
. 1 Comment

The thing I like best about High Park in the early evening is the incredible amount of older gentlemen gently jogging in silly looking puffy short shorts. They jaunt around the forested expanse catching the wind in their bloomers with their sinewy legs fighting the pain in their joints. With withered faces towards the sun, they jog with such conviction in their trouser-wear, I can’t help but wonder “Why such short shorts?” An impromptu after-work picnic with Andrew rendered me time to contemplate these old men and their shorts. I asked Andrew what he thought of these skimpy trousers and with honest gusto he replied, “They’re really comfortable. I’d wear them all the time if I could.” Hot.

After a little vino with some baguette, tomato, and brie, Andrew and I tossed a frisbee around and walked through the zen maze, dreaming of the summer soon to come. I don’t think there could be a better spent evening on this, the cusp of summer. Summer and love… could a girl ask for anything more?

what is it that you do to keep your eyes all shiny

Published
by
MP
on April 20, 2008
in Andrew, Katie and MP
. 0 Comments

 That was a kick-ass weekend. After working on a shoot all day Saturday, I met up with Andrew and my pregnant sister for an early Colin Meloy show at the Phoenix. I can honestly say that it was one of the best concerts I’ve been to in quite a long time… since Coachella in 2004, even. The weather was fantastic, for one, so absolutely everyone was in wonderfully warm spirits (even though this sudden onset of ’summer’ is rather suspicious, and makes me realize that Canada only has two season: Winter and July). Anyway, Colin played the one song I wanted to hear which was his cover of Morrissey’s ‘Every Day is Like Sunday’. Trudging slowly over wet sand… 

I never run into people I know in Toronto. Those random meetings that I always witness on the subway between strangers long divided are rarely, if ever, part of my city experience. So you can imagine my surprise when, standing around between Laura Gibson’s and Colin Meloy’s sets, I see a familiar face in the distance. “I think that’s Heather. We bonded over River Phoenix in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade onetime at summer camp when we were 14. We laughed for hours.” After a few minutes of trying to determine whether or not this truly was my 14 year old friend, I slowly sidled over to where she was chatting with her friends, with brilliantly large gesticulation. It was Heather. We shared brief updates, reminisced for a moment, and then continued on with current lives. I find it satisfying that it’s possible to know someone even when you don’t know someone anymore. 

Later on that evening I was outside getting some air and was approached by a random hipster. Suddenly I hear the words, “Did you go to BR?” Holy shit, I thought.  High school. After a brief shudder I admitted that yes, indeed, I had gone to BR. So did she, this random hipster. Not so random anymore. It turns out that we were in the same class, but never really actually knew each other. I felt a slight pang of embarrassment when I didn’t remember her name, but still and again, satisfying that such pleasantry can abound from people my current self doesn’t even know anymore.   

Overly After Effected.

Published
by
MP
on April 13, 2008
in MP
. 0 Comments

I can only see in timecode. Every frame of every second (29.97 frames per second, to be exact) drags on like an old demo version of AfterEffects on a G4 with very little RAM. No realtime here, only a quarter resolution RAM preview moving… very… slow… ly. Keyframe this, bitch.

This ambiguous nerd alert moment has been brought to by MP’s work. 

So my ipod died for real. It died a few months ago, but responded well to a good beating. I hurt it because I love it. Apparently, though, violence is only a short term answer. After the first appearance of that ominous ’sad mac’ face, I dismantled the old model ipod, took a look at its innards, and put it back together. After the surgery it would work for about 4 hours, and then have to be hit hard against any nearby surface. People used to gawk at me with dropped jaws when I would bang my ipod against the subway posts. “Look at this white-bred broad, beating up her icon of upper-middle class status… the NERVE!” Well, the ipod has passed into retirement and has been replaced by an ipod shuffle. My musical A.D.D. is reacting strangely, but it’s a cheap replacement for the time being. Such is my ipod experience.