Camel Toe Ballet

Solitude - Rosiehardy - Flickr

It has indeed been a Good Friday, so far.

I hatched a hilarious plan before bed last night, and look forward to hashing it out with some friends over dinner this evening. If properly executed, it could be a source of endless hijinks and amusement. At this point it's a secret, but you can bet I'll be writing about it on my own.

Hatching this plan made everything seem a little lighter today. I didn't sleep very well. The full moon made me crazy, and then the ass of a friend accidentally called me from a bar somewhere at 3am. My cat was enthusiastically trying to paw me into consciousness by 8:00, which I fought to sleep through, and then at last when my aunt called at 10 am to see if I wanted to go for a coffee-fetching walk, I got up.

I enjoyed coffee, and good conversation. Back at the Fortress of Solitude, I showered and got dressed, and pulled my favourite crazy shoes out of winter storage. These shoes illicit mixed responses. People either love them or they evoke a feeling of vague nausea. They are blue satin, with a Japanese style pattern. Flat, and rubber soled, they have blue satin ribbons to tie them on at the ankles (like ballet slippers) and the toes are cleft. I have to wear toe-socks with them. They make me look like I have a hoof. Or that I am a Ninja. They have set the tone for my entire day. I am a fleet-footed ninja ballerina with the gracefulness of a plains-grazing herbivore. Rock and roll...

I had great shuffle results on my way downtown to meet my friend Lenni for Indian lunch on Queen street (try Little India. It's fantastic and cheap!). All the songs were the right songs. People smiled at me everywhere, clearly not nauseous at all. A cute boy I haven't seen in a while got on the subway, and we chatted. He told me I had pretty hair.

Lunch was grand. Lenni was great. We walked the entire length of Queen to Trinity Bellwoods. From Trinity Bellwoods, we headed north to College, where we were trapped in the Good Friday procession. This is where we parted ways.

The streets were full of people, the air was filled with somber music, and everyone was quiet, and still. I poped my earplugs back in, and walked all the way home, admiring the multitudes of swarthy Italian boys. It felt like I was back in high school.

I'm off now to dinner. I feel like I need a glass of Merlot and quiet conversation. It's been an interesting week, and I'm incredibly grateful for a day or two with nothing to do.

I burnt a perfect triangle into my forearm.
I met a stranger who isn't a stranger, who I've been wanting to meet for many months.
I made a choice based entirely on instinct.
I had my heart broken by news from a friend.
I didn't sleep. Twice.
I got a phone call from an ass.
I counted the vertebrae of my increasingly skinny house cat.
I was inspired by Facebook, and the recent addition of an exciting new friend, to try something entirely ridiculous.

Jesus didn't have to die for my sins. I'm kind of ok with them. Plus with shoes like these, who WOULDN'T forgive me?