Monday, February 12, 2007
This is real. This is glam.
Dance, Dance
This is real, this is glam
This is the real glam electro
When you start to feel
Love is coming around again
-Brazilian Girls - Dance Till the Morning Sun
Brazilian Girls are one of my favourite bands du jour. Most of their songs are these absolutely Europhilic ballads about some combination of love, travel, girls, and marijuana. They sing in four different languages -- French, German, Spanish, and English. Therefore, I love them.
The photos in this post are the result of a Friday night photo shoot with my friend Shaun, a photography/business student and straight guy extraordinaire. If a woman who loves gay men is called a fag hag, what do you call a man who loves lesbians? Either you call him really frustrated, or you call him Shaun. We've been hanging out for a little while now. He takes me out for expensive sushi, the good kind, and we sit at the bar and eat wasabi with our fingers until my head feels like it's going to explode. I get to impress him with my willingness to eat whole little crabs straight out of the deep fryer, prickly little prawns (shells on), sea urc
hins, squid-and-shiso rolls, hamachi (yellow tail), and sticky soba noodles. Apparently his other pals only eat California rolls. Argh.
I agreed to help the lad with his "glam" photo project, which he told me was a shoot intended to look like the cover of Vogue or Cosmopolitan magazine. I doth protested too much, and he took me on as a challenge. These photos were taken in my bedroom, with zero studio lighting, makeup, stylists, hair fixers, costume people, or anything at all that might help me look high fashion. I didn't lose 30 pounds either. 385 photos later, he told me I was a) not sexy enough, b) not femme enough, c) terrible at pouting, and d) dreadful at posing (all in a rather affectionate way, of course). So...what do you think?
My weekend was a bit of a wild ride. My new pal Lena and I decided to go up to Whistler for Winter Pride, an all-out gayfest of epic proportions, in the middle of February, no less. We drove up on Saturday afternoon and partied with a crew of 14 girls, all sharing the same tiny one-bedroom condo. Needless to say, not a lot of sleep was had. In the middle of the night, two just-about-naked girls, soaking wet from the hot tub, jumped on me and Lena while we were making foolish attempts to sleep on the pull-out couch. They were exuberant like little puppies, and total exhibitionists. One of them had the most ridiculously unnatural tan, the product of her employment at a tanning salon. The colo
ur reminded me almost exactly of a stripper Claire hired to dance for me on my birthday. It was not, in fact, an attractive memory. The whole scene was really more laughable than erotic. Call me a fool but I remain terribly attached to subtlety.
Speaking of which, I kinda sorta met a girl on the weekend. I'm not making anything of it, but she did ask for my phone number and she did send me several very friendly little text messages today. She's a real beauty, this one. Dark and quiet, with stellar taste in music and tattoos all over her back. Hot. I don't know that she likes me, but if nothing else she'll be a new concert buddy, which I desperately need.
Things are holding steady at work, though my morning class is over-enrolled and I won't have enough seats if everyone shows up tomorrow morning. I was at work until 6:00 pm marking all the essays from today. Bla. I have a new evening job, too, at the Vancouver branch of the school I used to work at in Richmond. It's more work, but it's also more money and it's a much more satisfyin
g job than the one downtown. Kids are so much more rewarding. Plus, someone's gotta support my lavish lifestyle. Haha.
I better go cause I still have tons to do tonight.
Hope everyone had a nice weekend.
Cheers,
N
