Sunday night, after the excitement that is Morris Dancing, there’s going to be a small group going ice-skating at the Burnaby 8-Rinks. The plan is to meet on the Metrotown Station platform between 8 – 8:15 pm. If you miss us, take the 144 to Sprott Street. (If you’re driving, there’s a Sprott Street Exit from the highway.) I don’t know the price of things, but I suspect ten dollars would be enough to cover both skate rentals and ice-time.
I’m carrying myself lightly. My feet are lifting slightly off the ground, though the toes are still dragging. Again, I am lifting my head and holy. Welcome to the sacred. Service begins at waking.
Patti’s hot-tub party was relaxing, a pleasant group of people in the house I spent my Christmas in. Nick had a smaller turn-out than expected on Thursday. At least five sparkling people who had asked if I was going to go were no-shows. Silly people, they missed out on cake.
Sociability is breathing into me. On my return, I have taken up the ropes of friendship and madness and have begun tying myself back into having some sort of family. It’s difficult, relearning all the different knots, the phone-numbers, the remembering names, the confidant stride and swing of contentment. I’ve held in these hands the strength to carry on, but it’s like the callouses are gone. Everything wears anew, roughing up aspects of myself that were all but forgotten.
Oh yes, and TooTaLute will be playing at the Work Less Party’s showing of “Alarm Clocks Kill Dreams” on Tuesday at 8 at the Pacific Cinemateque on Howe. (Which, by the way, is showing Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance January 5-9. Excitement!)