I didn’t know I could look like that

I’m tired, covered with glitter, smell faintly of hotub, have no hickies, have been to a festival, two parties and and helped someone move, all while successfully avoiding the menfolk, and have arrived home at ten:thirty the next day in someone else’s clothing. *cackles* I think Illuminaires was a success this year. Just a bit.

I’m so not awake yet either. After work I dressed up in corset and scarlet and put my hair in pigtails for the first time in my entire life. I looked like an anime princess. At one point at Illuminaires, I bee-lined for faerie dust and got well covered in glitter just to top it off perfectly. Under and over dressed for the entire evening. Ray, Ethan, and Gavinroomie did a once around the lake, but crashed into the ground after that, so I went off trekking alone into the evening with my ill-lit lantern. It’s almost annoying that it won’t stay lit, but I like meeting all the people I beg lights off of. New people with fire are my instant friends. I ran into Frankie, who seems no longer drugfuct, and later the poet Shane. Shane wasn’t doing too well, someone close to him has just died trapped by fire. I’m extra glad I was to see him. Tried to go see my friend Jay as well, the man in charge of the fireworks, but he was a wee bit busy. Idiot boys had hopped the fence and had run through the racks, jumping over the wires in the dark. Success in spite of it though. I ran through the crowd during the fireworks like running from rock to rock on the seashore, belatedly realizing I was to be on the sandy beach trying to meet Jacques when they went off. The crowd was lit so brightly I felt like I could have seen every face in spite of my blindness. Missed him there, though after the fireworks I pooled myself back in with everyone else. They’d simply sat in the middle of a field away from everything. Easy to find them, but slight disbelief at how they could simply miss the show. Not, of course, an amazing show this year. My pitylantern was thought of as wonderful by too many people. Not a good sign.

We left the park and started losing members of the group at Broadway, where we collected Jacques. Gavinroomie took the bus, Ethan the skytrain, leaving us to keep walking with a new blueball lantern on a stick. Ray walked alone from first, as we split off to get into the car. Eccentric little thing, it’s missing a window and I still lock the doors. We went to Will’s place. I’d forgotten him but he quite remembered me. Illuminaires second back, I’d been with Bill and he’d been with Leslie. We built the 10-foot goddess together under the tree. A proper lantern, that one. He could even tell me what I’d been wearing and was surprised I had shoes with me. Makes me wonder what sort of impression I leave on people that he could be so tipsy and recall me so well in spite of it. A slightly slurred, “You’re a lovely woman” on the front lawn. I walked into the backyard party like I belonged there. I think it helped, though apparently I knew half the people there. Vague memories of theatre folk laughing a long time ago in various venues. It was fun. Pulled up a chair and gave lessons to not-actually-drunk on how to hit on women. Sat with the boys, brushed sparks out of my hair from the fire and ate all the cheezies. I may have been in a corset, but the ladylike was only a veneer. Tomboy full swing and center.

We weren’t long there, which was good. I didn’t feel like collecting anyone, so it was good that a group of us were due at Jackie’s up on the North Shore. Driving over to the West Van houses high on the mountainside, we talked mostly about how I’d narrowly escaped. I like friends who laugh at me and themselves at the very same time. So much respect inherent. The house was what I expected. Grays and muted tasteful browns, expensive, sleek, and with carefully placed multi-cultural art pieces. The view from the deck was interesting, facing one way you could look into the house as if into a zoo for socialites of a certain class, the other simply a twinkling wash of orange light spilling out from the city. Jacques and I lost everyone else from the first party. The band was in the basement, and so was the party. Everyone walked in and when they saw the older folk and the children they were unnerved. They ran away. Silly people didn’t know how to fit in. We just tossed ourselves in ballroom dancing. Twirl, spin, carry the girl and point those toes when you’re in the air. I was still dressed in my Illuminaires princess and so everyone had pictures taken with me. First the children, then the band. I felt like a token model or a minor celebrity spokesperson. Green retina burn of the constant flash for half an hour. Ridiculous, but enjoyable. Serves me right for wearing pigtails. *chuckles* I may have to make a habit of it in the summer. I didn’t know I could look like that.

Jackie was wonderful, as were a few people there. Three of us ended up in the hottub with strawberry daiquiri. I brought underwear expressly for the purpose of soaking in. After 8 hours, I was only glad to be out of the corset. Dancing all night and trying to breathe was starting to get to me. Leastwise I’ve learned I can do it, though I don’t know how well. Well enough for some people, seemingly. I’ve decided it’s a rather dangerous outfit. Couldn’t be left alone all evening. Especially I can’t say much for the band leader. Some singer annoying fellow dedicating all the songs “to Jhayne, that ravishing female in red” and putting on a show for me. Harassing me all evening without the least bit of style. Trying to hit on me with the fact he’s a bouncer at the Yale. So so sad. Crude and annoying, he even had the gall to corner me when I went off alone to the bathroom. Continually harassing me about my age as well. “I’m fourty-one going on twenty-eight. I hope you don’t mind.” *comes with look that is obviously an attempt at looking boyishly charming that I’m sure works on middle-aged women* Sorry guy, I won’t ever stop thanking the world for men with panache and even simple skills of social observation. Fool even wouldn’t let me shut the door until I’d given him a phonenumber. (Wonder who it is he’ll end up calling). Precious moment when Jacques noticed he went conveniently missing when I was off, noted the absence and “would have gone after you. Then I remembered it was you and figured you could take care of yourself”.

Found out in the hottub that Jen Bishop needed help moving this morning, so that changed my plans. Crashed over at Jacques at like, four in the morning, sleep maybe at five to get up at nine to help haul things. His pants don’t fit, but no matter. Almost anything is better than a swishing bellydancer sari skirt to move boxes in, plus hey! Another piece to add to my random collection of other peoples clothing. (Did anyone ever claim those underwear?) Jen’s look as I walked up this morning was close to priceless. The rumour mill has just been fed some rather amusing mistruths. I’m waiting for things to get to Bill. Will I or won’t I get the phonecall? She’s adorable. She’s grand. I should drop by the Tapjam sometime just to see her. There was a full group of people. Little dancer girls, tappers obviously, and a few guys. Everyone was so efficient it was all done in about half an hour. Perfectly in time to catch a ride down to Broadway and catch the bus to get home for work.

Now, as I finish writing this, chat opens. Window unfolding into cartoon icons and inane conversation. Telling the children to treat others as they would like to be treated. I wish I was swimming.

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