Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing

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Sunday, Nov. 28, 2004 - 10:29 p.m.

Hullo!
Just a quickie for now... maybe more later.

I managed to be up and at em at 9am, yay, (I am pretty good with the alarm clock when I have to be)... so now I am feeling a bit shellshocked. Fortunately my dog's three day bout of diahhrea seems to be over, as she didn't get me up three times during the night to run a block away to shit (she seems quite fastidious and refuses to have the runs anywhere near home, dang!!)... so my 4.5 hours of sleep was unbroken (for the first time in days) yay!

The funny thing about these zine things is spotting all the indy press people on their way there... yes the guy with the funny glasses clutching a copycenter plastic bag is looking for the venue. Yes the two artsy fartsy looking girls with a copycenter box are headed where I am. Yes the three geeky looking nerdy guys with circa 1940 suitcases at the end of their dangly arms are self-publishers.

It was a damp day but fortunately when I was outside it was only on the ground, not falling. During the day I could keep track of the weather by the dryness of the incoming punters' jackets.

It was weird being inside Station C... it is an old postal station (and says "Postale Station C" outside chiselled into the stone walls)... my first zine is situated there (a fake site since it actually happened in a small bar in another area of town, but my character hung at K.I.X, a bastardization of K.O.X., the real name of the groundfloor dance club in Station C in the early to mid 90's).

The last time I was there it was a three floor queer bar extravaganza. The dark deserted looking entry to the zine fair used to be an ultra chic shooter lounge with large overstuffed chairs, sexy shooter boys making the rounds, and drag queen nights.

Once we signed in today, we went into a cavernous concrete underlit room with assorted props and hardware in the corners. It was hard to believe it was the super-in club the butchy doordyke once staffed in 1992, when I made my first zines for her. It took a lot of imagination to see where the merchandise corner of tshirts and black bicep bands used to be, the center area that used to have boxes with gogodancing faghags on them, the spot on the ceiling that used to be hung with disco lights and them mirror balls. The recessed floor was gone, and the multiple-level bar areas. I could still figure out where the upstairs walkover was, where I used to hang with the doordyke in her security personnel guise, as she overlooked the room of crowded dancing sweaty topless gayboys and the cool gay-follower straight couples.

The strangest part was that the bathrooms had totally disappeared. WHY would one rip bathrooms out? It seems that even to let out a building that size, one wants plumbing! There was a series of plywood stalls with hardware from the corner hardware store (little screw-in hooks to close the doors and pieces of twobyfour nailed into the floor for the doors to slide into)... the toilets for men back to back to the toilets for women, in the middle of a large open doorless concrete brick room. There was no toilet paper (I stole the only small roll from behind a bar in the main room and doled out handfuls to the waiting girls... tuff shit for the guys)... The sinks were, get this, rubbermaid tubs with holes drilled into the bottom edge, the taps were copper plumbing stuck onto the backsheet of plywood, with one of them single "off-on" levers that they use in industrial plumbing (ie not taps, a lever between parts of the actual plumbing). There was no soap or handtowels, dryer or such amenities. There WAS a framed (as in picture frame) mirror scavenged from someone's bedroom propped up though!.

Where did the walls and the tile go? The bathroom stalls and steel sinks, the urinals and lighting? Very weird.

So, that used to be the large danceclub open to everyone. Downstairs there used to be Katacombes, the men-only leather club, and upstairs K-2 women's only dyke club. Once you were in the complex you could go up and down the three floors, as friends and music dictated. So bizarre to see no sign of its former glory. There WAS a weird plethora of contraptions made out of piles of mechanical pieces and found toys however. When I left, they had been turned on and were spinning and jerking with lights and sound like a crazed animated Christmas window.

Unfortunately for y'all it was dark dark dark... so no photos. I anticipated headachingly bright flourescent lights, not murky dark with a few spotlights hanging here and there.

Other than these set-up discomforts, the zine fair was totally packed with vendors... I think there were 126 or so... tables and tables, with hardly any space at all... The only one who could slide in and out between the tables to get to his seat was a totally tall stringbean guy whose legs were so narrow and his butt so high that he didn't knock over all the books on both sides like the rest of us.

I sold a whole THREE books, and quite a few zines, for a fantastic total of $74 Canadian. That ALMOST pays for the photocopies I made to go there, and the price of the table. OK, it is $30 short, but better than a kick in the pants. I also gave away a few zines... a couple to a nice guy who works in a bookstore in town that sells my comics... he said "I'm used to selling your comics, I'll staff your table for half an hour if you want to look around at other stuff"... what a doll!! I don't know why I never think to set up a deal with someone to help me staff these things so I am not stuck at my one little spot for 7 hours with no chance to see other creators and their wares. So I paid him with a couple zines.

I gave a couple to the reviewers "Broken Pencil"... who will hopefully write something up this time instead of the passing mention in the "we also received, but have no time to review" section that they shoved my book in when it came out. And I traded several for different zines and magazines. I will have to mention them later in this diary when I have had the chance to actually read them and do more than flip through them madly in a rush.

All in all, a fun day. Zoomed by like lightening. I find most days so short, but the seven and a half hours today vanished like a poof of dandelion fuzz. Lots of interesting people, lots of interesting production, lots of hobnobbing with the public. Mostly I gave out little cards and told them to check it out online. MAYBE I'll make some future readers. And one guy even said he has my comic bookmarked and reads it everyday! wow that is cool!

Now I am reading a recently defunct Canadian feminist magazine called "good girl"... funnily enough the first thing I read in it was what her vision was, how naive she was, and the history of her making the six issues, going bankrupt (time, money and energy) and why she shut it down. Kind of sad but very instructive and lots of food to chew on in my little brain. I traded four copies of it for one of my books.

I DIDN'T get my pizza during the day... i had to make do with my shredded cheese and tomato sandwich I made lastnight, and an apple. So I took myself off to have a bambino vegetarian pizza at a greasy spoon afterwards, and read good girl. I love places that serve glass bowls of red jello with spray whipped cream on top. :)

I hate to say I really just want to go to bed now that I'm home and doggies is walked but I should do a bit of tweaking on the sketches of Leo's Dog book... I am meeting with the author and editor to show them on Tuesday... I just have tomorrow left and tonight, to work on it. Oh dang. Maybe i'll sleeeeeeep....

Thanks for all the well-wishes.
gonna maybe read some buddy diaries now and some emails.
tah,
me,
wenchie.

Here is my horoscope for Sunday, November 28:

You're going to wake up with the urge to get the show on the road in a big way. Your need to be free and totally unfettered by responsibility will reach an all-time high.

Whahahahahaha! they make me laugh. I got the show on the road alright, but I was fettered by responsibility from 9am to 7pm!! And then the doggies... so let's say til 10pm. hehe.
silliness.

You Are the Reformer

1 You're a responsible person - with a clear sense of right and wrong. High standards are important to you, and you do everything to meet them. You are your own worst critic, feeling ashamed if you're not perfect. You have the highest integrity, and people expect you to be fair.

I got that from Radiogurl. She's a 5. I think that sounds like me. That is totally true. It was hard to pick which answer for each question though. hehe especially the "most every day I feel..." and then there are a bunch of positive attributes. HAHAHA. How about stressed and worried? timepanicked and anxious. Juggling and overwhelmed? Busy and sexless? hehe. nah, I picked a good answer. There ya go. Now i think I'll do the icecream one that Chaosdaily has posted.

You Are Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream! What Flavor Ice Cream Are You? Take This Quiz :-) Find the Love of Your Life (and More Love Quizzes) at Your New Romance.

WAGA! I hate chips of chocolate in my icecream! Cuz the icecream is cold the chocolate doesn't melt in your mouth and thus you can't taste its flavour... it is just crunchy stuff stuck in your teeth. But I do like the mint part. I guess though this isn't supposed to be the ice cream I'd EAT but rather the ice cream I AM. :) Dang! the image link doesn't work. Maybe it will be back online in the morning. I'm off to sleep now, not having touched the dog book. Tomorrow tomorrow, that is my theme song.

zzzzz

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009

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