How's It Going To Be?

I took a little trip down to Seattle with my parents last weekend to see my favourite band, a little group out of San Francisco called Third Eye Blind. Maybe you've heard of them? Now, I'm not usually the type to go crazy about bands. I have a pretty solid 'they're just normal humans too' mentality, but with these guys it's different. I'm an avid writer with a more than healthy fondness for good music, so the combination of phenomenal lyrics and catchy, intelligent riffs from this quartet gets me head over heels.




















I was nearly ready to puke with excitement when the opening band was finally done. (I'm not typically too harsh with criticism, but they were kind of a yawn-fest). I think half of that can be attributed to their sound and half to the fact that I was so eagerly awaiting something far superior.














'Horny and burned out now, that's how it always ends for me. Chemicals wear me down in your summertime bacchanilian.' The opening line of Faster splashes my bubbling anticipation right over the edge and I pretty much lose my mind. Nine years of longing to see these four people spill their hearts to me (not the other 1800 some odd people) instantly became so worth it.















I could go into detail about every song, explaining how many times I threw my gin and tonic all over myself as I jumped around like a victim of pure bliss. It would take too much time.















There is no way to translate into human language exactly what it felt like to hear music that actually permeated my skin. I finally know what it means when people say they can feel music.














If you haven't been able to tell, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. My daily musical inspiration has once again been redefined. I hope I won't have to go another nine years before I see a performance like this again.

Home is Where the Heart Is?

Born in one place with my heart in another,
always wondering if Heaven is nice this time of year.
Living in a city, landlocked, with my soul much the same,
holding seashells to me ears.
I can hear the sea but the sea can't hear me.
Watch the prairie sun set,


over fields and kiss the rocky silhouette skyline,
with a burning inside just as bright to follow her there.



The west possessed me.
Then the dream came true and brought me nine degrees left.


Now it feels like the first time, every time, I chase the highway lines west to this city so fine.

Blast from Starbucks Past

Dear Diary, it's April 17th 2008...

So I'm having a fairly normal day at work, Starbucks on Commercial and 2nd. It's about 7:30pm and we're getting regular homeless, crack head creepos that we see on a daily basis. There's this one lady in particular who I've previously felt really bad for because of her consistently bruised face, scarred legs and lack of shoes. She comes in with a coffee that a customer bought for her to get some cream and sugar and drinks it and carries on out the store, like usual, no problems, easy as pie. And I carry on with my evening, scrubbing coffee stained urns and sweeping the pasrty case.

About fifteen minutes later a customer from one of the cafe tables comes up to me and says: "I normally wouldn't make a big deal about this except for that I have children with me, but there is a homeless lady outside the store with no pants or underwear on!" "Oh my God!" I exclaim in response and briskly walk over to the door to see exactly what's going on. Because as the shift on duty, it's obviously my bag of monkies to deal with. So I walk over to the door to see this lady, pants around her ankles (leather pants I might add) squatted against my store wall, ass in the air, with a big turd coming out of her ass and a puddle of urine beneath her feet. Shocked, mortified, disgusted and slightly jovial, I ran to the back room to get the cordless phone and the non-emergency police phone number, since I'm totally in too much shock to think of something on my own. On my way back out I can see she has pulled up her pants and is still kind of hanging around out front. I finally have gathered my thoughts a bit and realize I have to take charge of the situation because the police will be too late. I burst through the front door with absolutely no control of the volume of my voice and our eyes meet.

"You have to leave my store RIGHT this minute and never come back!" is all I can manage to get out of my mouth.

"WHAT?! It was just an accident... I had an accident," she replies.

With my finger pointing violently at her pile of excrement I shout "THAT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT! You need to get out of here right now and never come back! I'm calling the police and will ANY time you ever come here again!"

"Whatever, fuck you! It was an accident," she mumbles under her breath and stumbles away.

The rest is really kind of unimportant information. I called the police, they came and they had the city of Vancouver come take care of her caffeine and 18% coffee cream induced mess off our sidewalk.

What is the moral of the story here diary? Don't do drugs? Don't ever get into the customer service industry in East Vancouver? Don't have a 'paying customers only' policy for your bathroom? Who knows, but this is by far one of the funniest and WEIRDEST things that has EVER happened to me in my entire twenty three years of being on this earth. That is all!

Signed,

Christine 'pooper scooper' Kesler