thediastema's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Toronto Part II (The first couple nights) I had an impressive tension headache by the time Heidi and Amber came stumbling down the ramp to meet-and-greet, but I held up my handmade sign (beckoning "HEIDI PERRY & entourage") with appropriate gusto. I offered the latter a handshake, since we'd not met before. She replied with a big hug. (I noticed she looked a little like a blonde version of Holly, late of PTC's box office.) The two of them hit the washroom while I phoned home to announce that I had, indeed, met with my party and was now even less likely to end up dead in a ditch in Mississauga. Good stuff. We hailed a cab conducted by a friendly, senile man who introduced himself as "Alex". Amber hit on him the entire way to Humber College's north campus. With moderate difficulty we were able to find the residence halls ("Heidi, you were here last year; don't you remember anything?") and with minor snags we were able to check into our rooms several hours early. While we unloaded our stuff, a babyfaced 27-year-old appeared at the end of our corridor and Amber, pretending to recognise him, addressed him as "Toby!" "[Friendly Manitoban], actually..." he said in bewilderment. In no time they were temporary makeout buddies. (Heidi would develop a crush on a 17-year-old standup student as well, and later on they'd both start fantasising about the faculty, but I'm getting ahead of myself.) We were up until about 4:00 a.m. local time shooting the shit and watching Comedy Network in the student lounge. I breathed as deeply as possible. Etobicoke nights are balmy and aphrodisiacally charged this time of year. My dorm room bed was more comfortable than the stiff mattress I have in Salt Lake. The washrooms were as coed as they come, meanwhile. Not that any of us had any shame, of course. ~~ We woke on the first day of the workshop and did the orientation thing. That night I went out to a bar with a few of my classmates, and after just a couple beers and a girl drink I won't even name (granted, they happened within the space of an hour), I was belting out old The State standards like "The Jew, the Italian, and the Redhead Gay" with Amber as our unit made it back to campus. The next day class itself commenced. I met Joe and Allan and was too intimidated to speak with them. An improv game prompted me to coin the phrase "boob shackles" and, while the rest of my work was sucking so far, Heidi and Amber encouraged me with tidbits like "you killed 'em with that one." Cameras from CityTV were there, so apparently we were on television within 24 hours of touching down (not too shabby) but I missed it because Heidi and I walked to the Woodbine Centre and I, having forgotten to pack any, bought shoes so cheap I can't believe I'm even talking about it here. We hit the Rivoli as well and saw some pretty impressive standup over a couple beers. Again I tried to inhale as deeply as possible. Walking back towards our TTC station on Queen West we passed a club from which the best jazz we'd ever heard was leaking. Impulsive young babes we are, Amber, Heidi and I stopped in for a couple drinks. The band in question played a few more numbers before packing up, at which point we entertained them with a game of word-at-a-time and purchased four CDs from them for $40 Canadian. (More info on them is available here.) A good bit tipsy afterward, we hailed a cab back to school. The driver, clearly annoyed by our loud, intoxicated rendition of "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" by the Proclaimers deliberately took us for a ride and tried to poison us. I found this hilarious, too, and tipped him heavily. Enough for one update. More to follow. ~ETK 21:24 - 14 July, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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