::Shebytches::

No, really, it WAS a dark and stormy night. And the rain and hail pounding down on the city sidewalks kept the audience well at bay. Apparently Torontonians melt in the rain, it has been decided, I have called it. I know this because not even the band that was supposed to be playing with us showed up.

Let's not start thinking that this first night will set the tone for the entire "seven cities in eight days" tour though.

Regardless of the sparingly few friends and malcontents who attended, I put on a strong set. A performer is someone who gives their best regardless of chips stacked against them, regardless of whether there is just one person in the audience - still thankfully there was more than one.

Hometown crowds are harder for me because after performing in a city for five years, everyone knows what you do and everyone has seen you do it quite regularly. Thus it is much more difficult to pull out a crowd as the sentiment is, "if I miss tonight, that's okay, I'll catch her again soon enough." To that end I am performing less and less in Toronto and looking more and more toward shows in other cities. I am old news here, overplayed and reaching the point of redundancy almost. It might be time for another 1-year writing sabbatical, something I have not done since 1998.

Also tonight, I got to meet my three tourmates - the boys - who I'll be sharing the car and all those open highways with. Meeting new people is weird. I never have much to say until I get to know them. Believe it or not, despite being a performer, despite running my own business, despite the way that some people have coined me as an "internet personality" (whatever the fuck that is.), I am incredibly shy. I feel bad in a way because I probably should have made a better attempt to get to know them - that first impression thing, you know. I wonder if it is always this awkward meeting strangers come inseparable tourmates?

Cyn (my friend and co-author) came out to catch the show and deliver the official tour mascot, Sharky. You guessed it, Sharky is a plastic shark that squeaks when squeezed. Sharky first came on tour with us back in January 2001 and has tagged along on every tour we've done since. This will be the second Eastern leg of the Perpetual Motion Roadshow that he's got under his belt. Fuck, I hope he is good at giving directions!

Tomorrow... our Nation's capital.

Day 2 - November 13th - Ottawa
We pulled out of Toronto around 1pm-ish. Last night was the last time I'll sleep in my own bed for a week and a half. Coming home from the show yesterday, weirdness was out in full force, I blew four light bulbs simply by turning them on and then had the circuit breaker flip twice for no apparent reason. Neither of these things has ever happened before in the almost 6 years that I have lived here. Bizarro-land, totally. Tell me, was my apartment pleading (or perhaps threatening me!) not to go? Have I acquired poltergeists who heard of the impending vacancy? I have no idea. I just hope it sorts its own damn self out though by the time I get home.

Today was cold. Colder than a witch's tit in fact (I use this old saying despite my belief that witch's tits are no colder or warmer than yours or mine). Toronto had it's first snow this morning, complete of course with blowing nastiness, just the perfect thing to make highway driving a charm. I am starting to think that snow is the thing that haunts all my touring efforts. This being only the second proper tour I have done, and yet it also being the second time it has been storming as I pulled way from the city. I must be cursed. I let my tourmates know that the snow was in all probability my fault.

We made decent time to Ottawa despite the weather and were quick to note that Ottawa is a cold, biting, frigid place. Colder than leaving Toronto, colder than anything that should be imaginable for mid-November. The kind of cold that makes you want to curl up under a comforter with a loved one and forget this touring nonsense all together. But I'm in Ottawa at the moment and my loved one is in Edmonton, so scratch that - the tour continues - no jolly warm comforters and warm welcoming flesh for me.

I split from the boys (who decided to check out the art gallery for some exhibit involving a table that follows you out of the room?!??) to grab dinner with friends of mine. As we walked into the pub, I heard the Stone Roses sliding through the front speakers. I took this as an omen that things were going to take a turn for the better now. Maybe it was superstition. Maybe it was early desperation.

Tonight's show was in a little pub downtown. A little pub complete with a belligerent drunk who only swore in French while we were performing and a barfly who was either sucking face with her "catch of the day" or laughing at all the most inappropriate times. Thankfully besides these two fixtures, who would have likely been drinking there show or no show, we had a good crowd. This definitely lifted all our spirits and melted the cold out of bones and veins - well it was either that or the world's *loudest* band who we were sharing the bill with.

So despite the rude interruptions by the aforementioned drunk and slut, and the jarring reality of almost being blasted clear out of our skins every half hour or so by raucous punk rock, we put on a good show. An Ottawa TV station came out to do a story on us. They interviewed me and a couple of the boys and taped a bit of the performances. I don't know if it ever aired. I should probably remember to ask when I get home.

After wrapping up the gig, it was decided that we wanted to do a bit more drinking and kicking back so we headed out to find another drinking hole (preferably sans crazy drunk), only it seems EVERYTHING in Ottawa closes ungodly early. I am talking 11:00pm / midnight early. Does no one in this city party? In the end we finally resorted to liquoring up at Zaphod's, a place I always wanted to go to anyway, not for its reputation but for the fact that it is named after a character in 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' book. Yes, the inner geek in me peaks through again. Shame, shame.

In other news, after watching me knit for hours on end in the car, Andrew (author of 'All My Friends Are Superheroes') has decided that he wants to learn how to knit too. Perhaps tomorrow we can find him some needles and yarn.

Next stop... Montreal!

Day 3 - November 14th - Montreal
I got to sleep in a queen size bed last night, I halfheartedly wonder if that will be the last one. It could be all floor-surfing from here on out. Oh, my poor back! I left a chapbook behind on our host's table as a small thank you, the least I could do for her hospitality. Not to mention that they and proper books have been selling like shit (and I am worried about carting them across the border.)At any rate, we pulled out for Montreal dead fucking early (which despite the expletive, was more than fine with me - I like Montreal & I have great friends there). Sherwin (the haiku-ist, artist, writer) had a lecture to give which gave the rest of us a chance to wander the freezing streets (seriously what's with the goddamned cold following us everywhere?) and to teach Jeb (our token American) the wonders of poutine.

We also went on a mission to find Andrew the "perfect" hat. What was it, style over function? In Montreal, I really think it needs to be both equally. Have I mentioned how bone-chilling, motherfucking, goddamned cold it is here? We hit a few vintage stores, comic book shops and lastly the Moog store. ("We're in Montreal, it's a Moog store, how can we not?") We almost lost Jeb in there at one point, he was slowly getting absorbed into the soundscapes he was creating. I realized, despite not making music of my own for over five years, I could drop a lot of cash in there and re-embrace the passion. I too could lose myself in synthesizers and forget all about the pen. Writing is not the only art form that can be an addiction.

As suppertime approached we went our separate ways, I met up with Nick & Michele who took me to all the great shops we always hit when I am in town. I managed a good deal of self-restraint barring the $10 goggles that I somehow convinced myself were a necessity for tonight's gig. I am better at convincing myself to buy than not to buy, quite frankly. Call me a fashion whore, or an anti-fashion whore, if you will, because it is easy to say "No" at the Gap or anywhere that sells all that generic shit but damned near impossible at those off-the-beaten path alternative boutiques. You know, the ones Montreal is full of.

After my mini-consumerist indulgence, it was time for Greek food (mmmm, Greek!) then off to the freshen up and hit the venue. This is when everything went sideways for a half hour. Apparently there was a miscommunication somewhere and the gallery owner was afraid we weren't going to show. Thankfully I'm a good firefighter and everything worked out more or less in the end. Apologies. Apologies. Apologies. Still we had our biggest audience. They also seemed very interested and captivated by what we were doing which made it even better. This was also the first unplugged night of the tour.

The most memorable moment of the evening for me, though, was meeting someone who loved the book, Some Words Spoken, and who read my blog regularly. One of the greatest thrills of being a writer is getting to meet the people who really love and appreciate your work. Not only is it very flattering, it is also so inspiring to realize that you are reaching out beyond yourself, beyond your hometown even, and touching someone. It is like magic. It is an incredible thing.

After the show, I decided I wanted sleep. I have had this horrible fear of catching a cold or worse yet falling into a string of migraines while on this tour. Thus I have been trying to keep the alcoholic bingeing to a minimum and the eating very regular. This utter care I am taking with my health does make me feel like "we've been eating our way across Canada" so far. Food, open roads, stages and strange beds. That about sums it all up.

Not tonight though, tonight I'm curled up in the suburbs of Montreal at the house of the parents' of one of my closest friends - another big luxurious bed. How long will my luck hold out? Thank god, we vetoed the idea of late night Krispy Kremes.
Thank god, I settled for some fruit instead.
Goddamn, I'm not going to get my fill of crepes before I leave here tomorrow morning.

Early rise and off to... New York City! (Holy shit, I'm finally not only going to get to SEE New York, I am going to get to PLAY it!)

***to be continued***

Next week:
- nothing quite like getting hauled into & detained at US customs
- the only fast food edible in America is McDonalds, God help us
- 2 days in New York City
- "Hillbillies, the next 8 miles."
- Cleveland: we came, we played... to two people
- homesickness hits

Check out our "audio" tour diaries at: http://www.nomediakings.net/nov.htm
For more information on the Perpetual Motion Roadshow visit: http://www.nomediakings.net

If you have comments about this article please email us @ comments@shebytches.com. We will post them on the right. You can also contact Monica @ monica@shebytches.com.