This is Pipesdreams, coming to you live from the Satellite of Love, also known as the home of
It’s like I’ve died and gone to geek girl heaven. Seriously. You cannot comprehend how much awesomeness lurks in the nooks and crannies of this house. Gorilla suits. Robots. Lightsabers. Monkeys. Shipwrecks. Skull helmets. About a gazillion books on arcane and marvelous subjects. And that’s just what I can see from this chair. We won’t even discuss the movie collection.
Besides which, what could be better than coming home to three loving cats? I humbly suggest, coming home to three loving cats AND all the Doctor Who episodes known to man.
I actually suffered some considerable trepidation for a day or two about the wisdom of taking this gig, only because I knew I would like it too much. Here I am, in a delightful, spacious apartment decked out with all the necessities (internet, toilet, fridge, in that order) on one of my favorite streets in my favorite neighborhood. The urge to call in sick to work for the rest of the week is nearly overwhelming. ‘Neverwhere’ is staring at me from the Neil Gaiman section, saying “quit your job! reread me!” If it weren’t for the copious cobwebbage in the scary basement, I’d be planning to dig a tunnel and live down there, real surreptitious-like.
Since I lived in the Annex for years, I am totally comfortable with going out for a walk at 2am to get some cheese doodles from the corner store by myself. I can swing by the Victory for a drink, stop at Suspect for a video – not that I will need to rent ANYTHING while I’m babysitting the mother of all sci-fi/cult/horror movie collections (Chuck Norris in ‘The Octagon’, anyone?). And I can go buy a comic book from The Beguiling with minimal hassle. Here is, in fact, the start and finish of me getting hassled…
Me: Hey, Peter. Have you got Persepolis in stock?
Peter: Middle aisle, halfway to the back. What the hell happened to you? It’s been 3 years.
Me: Oh, you know, worked at the Snail, started dating JVL…
Peter (sardonically): Mmm. How’d that work for you?
Me (curtly): Not, uh, not well.
Peter: So you’re boycotting the V-Ls now? You wouldn’t be the first. Or the last.
Me: Yes, well, enjoy reaping the cash benefits of my personal pain.
Peter: That’ll be twenty-one sixty-five.
So, you know, it’s pretty dreamy here. I’ve given the cats their sustenance and hugs for the evening, and I can’t face another moment of work, so I’m lazily toying with the options of starting on the pile of recommended viewing Joe thoughtfully left out for me, or turning on the PS2 and engaging in a little private Dance Dance Revolution mania. JOY.
Hey, you are in my hood right now! Neat! Have fun. Have you hit up the big new BMV on Bloor yet?
Not yet, but it looks shiny! I’m actually a little scared to go in there. I used to shop at Book City (and of course, Ten Editions, since I lived above it) when I lived here three years ago, and the accumulation of books from my outings to Bloor Street really came back to haunt me when I had to move.
It’s amazing how fast this place changes… if it weren’t for the old staples of Futures and Kilgore’s and Paupers and the Bloor Cinema, I’d be weirded out. The Lettieri at Honest Ed’s still looks wrong to me. As does the Starbucks and that new bakery (Cobs? there’s one in Kensington, too).
Good to be “home” again. If this was a ploy by J&J to try to get me to move back to my old hood, I have to admit, it’s kind of working.
Yay, nice icon! You lived above Ten Editions? That’s wonderful! I love that store. I will miss it very much – some fabulous finds have been found there. Cobbs is brand-spanking new. If you walk by there around 10ish at night when they’re closing, they will give you free bread.
Do you have a preferred sushi joint?
You are awesomeness personified, in case I didn’t mention that enough last night.
Also, that’s one sweet gig you’ve got yourself, there.
Also? I now have a craving for the mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy from Futures.
Glad to know you had a good time. We are both profoundly grateful (and I knwo the cats are too — they’re a lot less skittish than they usually are after we’ve been away).
It’s funny seeing your own place through someone else’s eyes. Sitting in this very same chair, looking at the very same things you describe, and I’d never really thought of it as “arcane and marvelous” — to me it’s just “my stuff”.
You are, of course, welcome back any time the mood strikes you.