Foggy Madness Foggy Madness

Stuffed up old school and I have to write a paper for tomorrow. I plan on imbibing vast quantities of herbal tea while I work which may or may not be helpful. It will make me pee though, which means lots of breaks from the actual writing. I'm a clever, clever lady.

This particular weekend turned out quite well. I had a slumber party with Matt involving Indian food, giggling, shadow puppets, and skipping out on yoga the next morning to go and dazedly eat eggs benny. Then I hung out with my family and helped my dad rehearse his lines for a really cheesy Camelot themed Durham College fundraiser. He was the king. Then Steve and I opted to lie around instead of hitting up Ladie's Night at the Argos game. I am so glad we did, because it provided us with enough energy to see an awesome midnight show of "Reefer Madness", the musical, and then wander around downtown taking in the surreal experience of "Nuit Blanche".

I love when Steve and I stumble into beautiful situations. We wandered in and around the U of T campus from 2:30am until about 4:15am walking through the ROM and the ceramics museum, watching the projection on the planetarium, buying some cookies from the church with the halogen lights that spelled out "hold that thought", and losing ourselves in a dense fog on Philosopher's walk. There was a really beautiful wish tree set up right before the fog where wishes were hanging off of a maple tree by silver tinsel threads. People were invited to write their wishes on to the ones that were already printed there. I just like the idea of people collectively stopping and thinking of something they'd like to change. There was also really concious and wonderful graffiti happening, which always makes me feel good.

The fog was my favourite. There was a point when Steve was the only person I could see. I appreciate those moments of sensory awareness when all of a sudden you can't see, and things seem quieter than they really are. There would be moments where you couldn't see anyone around you, and then you'd take two steps and there would be two guys smoking pot from a pipe or people trying to keep their feet out of the mud and complaining about the rain. It was just nice. I needed that foggy moment. And I needed that moment of watching Steve disappear in front of me and realizing that I just wanted him to stay and hold my hand so we could walk out of that fog together.