The Virgins tour update: nothing.
We're touring through Canada right now. Haven't made it anywhere cool yet. Only to the drab, dreary, desolate, depressed, barren wasteland of Middle Canada. Winnipeg through Edmonton is so painfully boring its almost a new sensation. Like, we've never felt like this before.
We are so goddamn bored we've stopped talking to each other in the 10 hour van rides. We go straight to bed at night when we get to the hotel. We wake up at 10am and have quiet breakfasts. We sigh alot. And to add to the non-excitement, not one of us has had one drop of alcohol because we just don't feel like partying anywhere, with anyone. How bad is that? This is supposed to be a rock n roll tour. Meanwhile, it feels like a Home Economics class at a Community College. I'm sure once we get to the coastal cities (Victoria and Vancouver) we'll shut the hell up, but right now its a battle against tedium and the minutae of fueling up every 300 miles.
Canada so far is like Chinese water torture. As my friend Ted says, the only reason we haven't paved over the entire country to make it a giant parking lot for our SUVs is because it would be too boring to park there. Here are some slogans we made up for it:
Canada: Who Gives a Shit?
Canada: Where Fargo Goes to Masturbate
Canada: Live or Die Who Cares No One Notices
Canada: Could Be
Canada: I'm Drawing a Blank Here
Canada: If It Gets That Bad
Canada: The Largest Hiding Place on Earth
Canada: Where You Don't Even Want to Fight About It
Canada: Where Mediocrity Meets Acquiesence
Canada: Like Having a Bowl of Grape Nuts Every Day for The Rest of Your Life
Ted has HBA Hot Burning Anger toward Canadians. I'm mixed. I mean, they seem so nice compared to us and they don't have guns, but then again, they are kind of a bunch of pussies. And for god's sakes, how can you tell a joke when it takes four minutes to get out a sentence?
Speaking of boring, here's some boring stuff to tell you about. This is the part of my blog where I'm in the confessional room on the Real World and I'm supposed to be talking shit about someone in the house and you're all jazzed up to hear the juicy deets, but instead I tell you about how I brushed my teeth this morning and the toothpaste was a little stale. Here we go...
First of all, I call the tour van The Womb because its a big purring engine that doubles as a jukebox and a bassonet with four sleeping boys in it. I had some nice quiet time to stress over how much work I'm missing while driving through Indiana, but the drive was beautiful. Wisconsin was so gorgeous that I had a little moment with it.... we were listening to Nico & the Vulvic Underground and the guys were all napping on our way to Minneapolis. There was an overcast sunset on the Dells. It felt like we were being silenced by dark, silver skies with etches of sunlight that crackled in the clouds like eggshells, over red trees and rusted silos. Can't describe it, but I wish you guys could've seen it.
I smelled Fall for the second time in the Wisconsin Dells and I got all excited. Don't you LOVE that smell? Fall means snuggling up with your boyfriend and reading books during the day. It means chicken noodle soup from Veselka and Lamb Ragu with Papperdelle at Lil Frankies. It means a beer at the Fish with your besties, then coming home early to watch a movie. It means the Bergdorf windows that cost half a million dollars to produce are going to unveil on Fifth Avenue the day after Thanksgiving (my favorite tradition). It means that guys start dressing nicely.* But mostly, the first smell of Fall means I don't have to breathe in the soot of New York for another six months.
Anyhow, we are pushing along on this tour, but its nothing like the production and stress and excitement of our first one. This one is mellow. I've never traveled anywhere before and actually wished I was back in my fat little hick of a nation.
More later,
Aviva
* girls look better in the Summer because their clothes come off but guys look better in the Fall because they have to wear scarves and more important shoes.
Our tour van became a mobile shitpile filled with thrift store finds, food wrappers, lighters, and empty water bottles. I took it to get cleaned and renamed it VANGLORIOUS! (said in gay black man's voice)
Donald channeling Welcome Back Kotter. We should start calling him Donny.
Wade infront of their favorite Canadian chain restaurant, Montana's, which is essentially a TGIFs with taxidermy everywhere. It was atrocious, but of course the boys loved it. Dudes will eat anything. They have rat stomachs and ingest lint, aluminum cans, and dead birds when girls aren't looking.
Nick got sick and slept for three days straight. The most quiet, pleasant three days of my life. Kidding! I kid. Nick is the most hilarious cranky, crotchety, complainy 85-yr old crabapple to grace the earth.
