I was waiting to post until I had uploaded the sari pictures from the weekend, but sadly, I have been so busy since I got back that they are still trapped in my camera. Booo.
Luckily, I had an awesome, awesome time. I got to meet more of my Better Half's family, eat copious amounts of Indian food, dance Bollywood style, hang out with some lovely and talented ladies, and spend $95 on chocolate at Soma's.
So overall everything went peachy, except for the minor freakout my BH had when he noticed I had booked us a hotel at Jane and Finch. I didn't really do that on purpose. I just googled the address where we needed to be, and chose a hotel that seemed close and clean. It wasn't close, in the end. But it was clean. Cleaner than most hotels I've stayed at. And for the record, despite all the notoriety, the neighbourhood didn't seem that bad to us. Although maybe people are just hesitant to mug a white girl in a sari. They're too busy being confused.
Last night the band rehearsed in the church where my studio is located. This isn't a normal church. They have rock music as part of their service. They do art during the sermons. The whole building is oozing creativity. If I was religious (and not Jewish), I would go to church here. Because they are so into live music, the main part of the church is equipped with a full sound system. We plugged in and went with it. I highly recommend rehearsing in a church if you ever get the chance. Although, if you have a potty mouth like I do, you end up feeling a little sacrilegious. It's all, "Jesus! OH, fuck, sorry. Oh, Christ, sorry for saying fuck. OH, goddamn!"
It also looks like I'll be on TV tomorrow. I'm supposed to be at the studio at 4pm, but I don't know if I'm playing live or not. I'll try to find out. I suspect it will be taped and then played as part of the evening newscast on the local CTV with Eric Longley. I'm excited, and I can't decide which song to play. Plus I have to remember not so say motherfucker on the air.*
Sari pictures soon, I promise.
*Just kidding. I know better. When I was working for CBC Radio, we had a guest on the show who was a brilliant cellist. I think he was from Belgium. He was telling a story about Lou Reed, and ended with the phrase: "And zat vass a mathafackah." On live, national radio. I died a little inside, and smacked my head into my clipboard.