Pony: #
7.9.2001

How do I describe the weekend? A long, (six-hour) drive each way. Adam and Andy in the front and me in the back. I felt like the little sister the whole way: leaning forward, telling long stories and their barely-hidden annoyance with my digressions. "You don't do straight lines," is how Adam gently describes my storytelling style. So here goes an unstructured rambling:
Montreal made me feel beautiful and clear and sexy. There is nothing like lounging there--on the grass, at someone's apartment, over a leisurely brunch at Souvenir on Bernard Ave...none of the pressure you feel here in Toronto to pepper your days with meaningless 'make-busy' activities.
Friday night at Blizzart's with the great funk DJ and Saturday at Xenzala. Everyone stopping their bikes at the corner to say 'Hi'. Everyone is still around! And even strangers look you in the eye and smile.
Then Saturday night: Dylan's surprise 30th birthday party with all the old crowd (who arguably have their own, new crowds). "Wow, now that everyone showed up to a party on my behalf, I'm all obliged to leave my apartment more often! "
What is it with 30 year old boys who went to alternative school and refuse to leave their apartments? Like indoor cats . You can't let them outside cuz they think cars are their friends. I should know, I dated one.
I felt at that moment like I could have said something true and difficult to hear, and blasted the roof off the place. You ever feel that kind of superpower ability? But why feed the drama? It was like walking through a museum of civilization, and having the cool perspective of an outsider. Had I stayed, there is no guarantee that Montreal would afford me the clear, cool, perspective I feel as a visitor. I kind of like the grownups I know here, anyway. O.K, guys. That's the story for now.

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