A winter's tale

Well, that was another tortuous karaoke session. When I wasn't listening to April and Duncan plan set lists, or work out guitar/bass lines, I was explaining to drunk Swedes why they didn't want to pat the bunny. At least at the end of the evening Wilco gave me a paws-up. Sometimes he seems like better boyfriend material than anyone else I know, except for the major problem of his being a rabbit. I don't really like telenovelas much anyway. I holed up in the women's washroom for a while to text Enid to see if she had any advice on what to do with monomaniac boyfriends (hers likes to obsess over old vinyl and shellac records and antique turntables). Enid's advice boiled down to, "maybe you should move on." I don't know. Maybe things will be different when we go into Toronto this afternoon. There's a really good photography exhibit on at the AGO, at least.