In Which Sheena Rediscovers Her Faith In Humanity, Opens a Surprise and Samples Chevre Wrapped Figs

This saga begins just over a month ago when Sheena exclaimed to her virtual compadres that she was finding it hard not to slip out and attend the This Is Not A Reading Series event.

With El Chaperone walking shot-gun, we meandered over to the Gladstone, had a cocktail or two, and settled in for what we assumed would be some literary celeb gawking and possible DJ Ringtone mockery.

We quickly were enthralled by the talent and enthusiasm and genuine fun in the room.

As I said on another part of the innerdnets:

Oh! we had such a really good time at this thing. I went for the mockworthy factor but stayed for the fun.

Russell bounced along to his house tunage before and after the main show. Doing that DJ head bob with oversized electrified ear muffs that made him look rather unstylish. He really should have just held up one earphone to his head like the real mixalots do in Europe.

But what fun the rest of the night. Anne Marie played the banjo and sang along with the featured author Sean Dixon who I had never heard of before but he's a very talented musician.

And this Globe and Mail music critic (I need to remember his name) [aka Carl Wilson] turned the tables on himself and performed for the first time in public, shaky as all hell but pretty good.

And some neato old timey folk songs done with banjo and the tabla with Dixon and his Sikh buddy that he met at a party last week.

I bought a book but now I can't find it. Might have left it at the coat check. Oh, and I was acting all classy and hipster until I sneezed and sent droplets of pinot noir all over my legs and the floor.

Well. Wouldn't you know that banjo hero and literary genius Mr. Dixon managed to find Sheena's artless review and forgetfulness lament and did he not just buck right up and email, asking if she ever found the book.

No, Never did.

By way of miracle and Canada Post, just days ago, a little surprise arrived Chez Sheena. A real live geniune autographed replacement copy of The Girls Who Saw Everything

Been in the laptop bag since last week, and tonight had one of those dinner at the hotel moments absolutely made for starting a new read...

Little bit of argula salad, bit of seared ahi tuna, some chevre & proscuitto wrapped figs, washed down by a lovely dry Strewn Riesling. On the side, a brand new fresh-smelling soft cover novel that was all mine.

I'm liking it so far. I think it's the first Canadian novel I've read that had the word "blogger" in it. And how could Sheena NOT love any work with the phrase "Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful" before page 50...