haliPHAT

HALIFAX, NOVA SCOTIA
Oct 30th, 2004

Hola amigos y amigas!

Writing you from tropical Nova Scotia, where I am working on my tan and practicing my Spanish with the lovely locals (take that, Jamie Burnett.... you big Chilean looozer!).

Yes, my loves, I have arrived safely, soundly, and have in fact been here for a week but been too lazy to touch base with almost all of you..... sign of good leisure time - couldn't possibly type a word. Things are laid back and cool here, as usual.... I'm doing my best to fit in, but I own only one toque and not a single pair of hand-knit Acadian socks (Oakey has around fifty, I think.) Also, nobody here but me (and the occasional sad little goth girl) seems to have black hair. I feel conspicuously like a South American exchange student amidst all this wool and freckle and sandy hair....I went to see The Motorcyle Diaries the other day (worth seeing...and my boyfriend Gael is quite good in it) and felt like hugging the group of Spanish-speaking Latin-Americans in the crowd. ("Hermanos! Hermanas! You look....like me!") But I digress. What else is new?

Those of you who don't know what the hell I'm on about, I'm here visiting Christine Oakey, who is a Shawfest friend, until Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday or so (decisions, decisions) and then on to St. John's, Newfoundland for a month or so to laze around in the empty home of Nicole Underhay (another Camp Shaw buddy). Ahhhhh......unemployment. I mean vacation, vacation, dammit! I actually meant to do this! Newfoundland in November.....what was I thinking, you ask? I'll get back to you on that.

The train ride here was lovely.... I do recommend a big ol' long distance rail trip to those who have the time. Scenic and peaceful and all that. And I did the single bedroom thing (a tiny little berth about the size of my foot) which is great for someone like me who doesn't always feel like small talk....and who wants to stay up till 3am and sleep until I feel like it. Turning out the lights and watching the moonlit countryside slide by was absolutely serenely beautiful..... and there really is something about watching all of that track lay itself out before you that's conducive to taking stock, to considering where you've been and where you're heading (in the grand sense, I mean) and THINKING ABOUT LIFE in general. Also, I took some good pictures of my feet. Oh, and no intrigues on the train, Alison, unless you count THE MYSTERY OF THE INCREDIBLY DRUNKEN MAN. How did he get so impressively loaded? An hour into the train ride? How did the poor staff put up with him? And why, Inspector, wouldn't he SHUT THE FUCK UP? Again, lovin' the private berth.

Halifax has been ideal thus far. Oakey went into tech on her show (The Fighting Days, by Wendy Lill, celebrated playwright and Member of Parliament) just after I got here, so we haven't been able to hang out a ton (although we did spend Sunday in P.E.I. - hooray!). That means I've had a lot of time on my own to wander around, which is always fine by me. Since I was here last year, I don't feel a lot of pressure to do toooristy things, having already hit some of those; so I can just walk and explore and window shop and read and catch up on movies. And see some plays. And eat and drink. Oh, and work out - one week 'trial' membership at the Y: zero dollars. Ass of steel: priceless.

Shawfolk, circa 2001: had drinks with Joe Wynne the other day, who is great and about to release an album with his band, Aide de Camp. He told me the name of it, but it was something eminently forgettable. Obviously. I suggested something much catchier, of course.....which I have since also forgotten. And Sharry (Sherry? Shari? Shit.) Smith is in Oakey's show, and is wonderful, both in the play and otherwise. Good show. Went to the opening, and even did some unwitting schmooze. Oh yeah - I helped out when they were rerecording a sound cue the other day, so for the next three weeks in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, you can hear me yelling at a World War One conscription rally. (Look at me! I'm a big actor!)

Went for a long stroll through Point Pleasant Park yesterday, where I've never been (okay, Mom, maybe as a kid, but I don't remember that). It must be quite strange there for people who knew it pre-hurricane. It seemed quite strange to me. But still very beautiful of course, and an amazing way to spend a perfect sunny, blue-skied unemployed day. Staring out at the water seems to be a universal pasttime; you see people doing it all over the world. What are we all looking for out there? Anyway, I'm very good at it, and Point Pleasant is an ideal place for it. Another day of walking around and being quiet and reflective, which is actually what I am, believe it or not, when I'm not busy being so damn noisy. Any big revelations so far? Perhaps. Ask me about it some time. I did meet one person in the park, but that was creepy, heavy breathing guy (hobbies: pushups, stalking and staring), who thought I was "very eenterestink yunk lady". Which I am. I made it a point to be pleasant.

On the way there, I found myself on a side street, desperately needing to pee, so I invaded the campus of St. Mary's University (established 248 BC - God, I love the Maritimes....so old!) in search of a toilet. I was afraid that I wouldn't fit in with all the students (where were my sweatpants?!), but I had locked doors opened for me, directions given.... it reminded me of a time when Dean Carter and I, a year and two out of theatre school respectively, found ourselves wandering onto the U of T campus during frosh week. We were feeling at sea having no new exciting purpose to our lives in September after fifteen years of back-to-school, and were delighted that we not only blended in, but were given free stuff just for being there. I briefly considered sneaking back regularly for free lectures, but as it turned out, I wasn't really interested in free knowledge. Just free pizza.

Anyway, I'm off, dearies.... big day tomorrow running around screaming in the Museum of Natural History with Xine, and then off to see The Syringa Tree (starring Carmen Grant) at Neptune.... and then a tickle trunk hallowe'en party!

Do you love the fact that my stoopid mass email from stoopid Nova Scotia is longer than emails you get from people who are in Europe or Africa? Or do you hate it with all your heart and soul? 'Cuz that's okay, too. Either way, get used to it. It may be a long cold month in St. John's.

Happy Halifaxowe'en!

Love,

Leese