Apr. 19th, 2006

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The guy who books my tickets to Brasil used to sleep with a gun underneath his pillow. I know this because his mother-in-law is my mom's best friend. I once had to spend the night in a hotel in Sao Paulo because he'd booked my connecting flight to Londrina the day after I arrived. I was very pissed off. We still use that travel agency because friendships are sometimes thicker than blood.

When I was a kid, my father would sometimes take my brother and I camping near the sea during Summer. We'd spend the whole day at the beach and, at night, I'd read Agatha Christie novels inside the tent until the mosquitoes got the best of me.

When I started smoking pot in high school, I'd make my best friends (Karla, Sue, Susannah and Janet -- yup I was the only boy) watch Siouxsie and the Banshees videos. I thought they were the trippiest videos ever; they laughed at Siouxsie and said she was Robert Smith in drag. I got my revenge when Karla was spooked by the skeleton dancing in the video for "Cities in Dust".

I did mushrooms for the first time in Janet's dorm room in McGill University. She played Abba and I felt like the music was coming to me from another planet. Then I cried during Tracy Chapman's "Drive".

When Kevin and I moved to London, we lived in hostels for two weeks. It was a week exactly after 9/11 and there was a young american student, Aaron, in our room. I still dont' know if he figured out we were a couple. He'd go jogging in Hyde Park in the morning, wear a shirt and tie to the theatre (which he would attend by himself); he was from Albuquerque, New Mexico, and he had native blood.

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