I Have Returned

So I'm here. Back in Toronto - back to my ongoing life or death struggle with the city that may one day claim my soul. I've recently become aware of a) how often I personify Toronto in my conversations ("Man, that's so like Toronto"), and b) how often I blame Toronto for any ill in my life.

- Can't find acting work - "Fuckin' Toronto."

- No time to relax - "Fuckin' Toronto."

- I forgot to set my alarm clock - "Fuckin'... Toronto."

But this year is gonna be different. This year is gonna be... 2006: Year of the Shawn!

Unfortunately, my friend Shawn called the year before I got a chance to. We've decided that 2007 will likely be the year of the Ian. But still, I'm gonna try and enjoy this year more. Take more risks, have more fun, listen to people more often. I did have a splendid trip home to Nova Scotia, and I think that's mostly why I'm in such a good mood this last week. I had some wacky misadventures since my last post, but the moment has kind of passed for me to write about them. It's been so long, that my memory has faded slightly and I wouldn't be able to offer much insight into my trip; just a run down of people and places. And honestly, who really wants to read that? If you genuinely want to hear about my trip, feel free to ask. As an actor, there's nothing I enjoy more than talking about myself.

There are, however, two major events that do bear relating.

I've recently been cast in the stage adaptation of "Lord of the Rings"!!! That's right, the multi-million dollar stage production that will soon have it's world premiere at the palatial Princess of Wales Theatre in Toronto.

Wait a second. That should actually read: I've recently been cast in the stage adaptation of "Lord of the Things", the improvised low-budget spoof opening at the Bad Dog Theatre. I'm entirely enthused about doing this show. Sure, it's a non-paying gig, and there will most likely be elf-ears involved. But it will also likely be a popular show, and a weekly show at that. That, plus the fun and comraderie and all that junk.

Second order of business: I'M A BRIDESMAID!!!

Seriously.

My good friend Antonia (Toni) is getting married in October, to my other good friend Steve. It's all very sweet. So I was talking to her over the break, and our conversation went something like this:

Toni: So Steve and I really want you to be a part of the wedding party.
Ian: I'd love to! I'm, well.. 'honoured' sounds kind of cliche, but that's what I am.
Toni: Great! I was hoping you could stand for me.
Ian: Absolutely! (pause) Wait. Does that mean I'd be a bridesmaid?
Toni: (pause. looks down at the floor) Umm... yes.
(awkward pause)
Ian: Whatever. I'm there!

I'm gonna look great in taffeta.

Oh, and they've also asked me to be the MC for the reception. If this bridesmaid thing holds through, that's half of my material written right there.

Actually, I lied. One more story. My blog, my perogative. On my flight back to Toronto, I was all set to watch a DVD on my spiffy new laptop. I had chosen to rewatch the first episode of LOST; but then it occurred to me that my seat mates might not enjoy looking over my shoulder at repeated scenes of a gruesome plane crash. So I settled on "SNL: Best of Phil Hartman" (the man's a genius, I tell's ya). Now the guy in the seat next to me is what caught my attention through the flight. He was a tall, broad shouldered guy, about my age, wearing a Canadian Military uniform. Now, I try not to make superficial judgments about people, but I usually do anyway. I see a guy like this in uniform, and I instantly assume that he's some big, muscle-bound, gun-happy lunkhead who couldn't tie his shoes without someone yelling orders at him. But then I scolded myself, and thought "hey, I'm sure this guy is more than just the stereotype in my head". Then, as soon as I pull out my compact, 12" iBook, he takes one look and whips out his extra-large, widescreen laptop (I may have imagined the look). I don't really think anything of this, but as soon as he boots up I can't help but notice his desktop - A huge picture of him and a fellow soldier in their barracks, stripped to the waist, each holding a fully automatic machine gun in each arm (4 guns in total), and grinning like a pair of sweaty, slightly homoerotic cheshire cats.

Now, perhaps I'm inferring too much here. It's entirely possible that my thinly-veiled problem with authority and people in uniform is causing me to assume unflattering things about this guy. I mean, he's theoretically signing up to defend my country (and me) from any global threats that may arise. Surely he deserves my respect? So I start watching my SNL DVD, and before long I notice what he's watching. Rambo. And not just Rambo, but "Rambo III". I mean, "Rambo I" I could have let slide (it's a surprisingly gripping story about a damaged Vietnam vet trying to readjust to society). But Rambo III!? That was the point where those movies abandoned all logic, and became living jingoistic cartoons. I believe that at one point, Rambo actually kills an Afghani terrorist simply by mumbling at him.

Sorry Soldier Boy. In my mind, you too shall forever be a cartoon.