Pony: The days will now grow longer
12.22.2003

OK, I know this sounds so cheesy, and if I say it and don't do it, I will feel awful. But I think I want to volunteer in a soup kitchen (or whatever they call it these days) on Xmas eve. I have no idea if they actually need anyone and I probably have a romanticized idea of what it would be (cue pony with righteous air and a patronizing smile as she doles out holiday gruel to the dishevelled humans). But seriously.

Anyone know a good place in the city? It was Chris' idea. After, I want to go dancing at Il Convento Rico for a little festive booty-shaking (if they are open) or something. I don't get out much.

hello sunshine
Last night was my favorite night of the year. I went to the Kensington market festival of lights/solstice parade. The weather was warm, the costumes were awesome, and the mood of the parade was lovely. Federal NDP leader Jack layton and his wife,. city councillor Olivia Chow were two of the three wise "men" who led the parade. Olivia got down to the Toronto Samba Squad. Normally I find drum collectives cringeworthy. Except on equinox.

I get a bit overexcited at the solstice parade. I feel like a little kid. I laugh too loudly at the choir of witches, I get scared at the fire eaters. I stand transfixed before the shadow puppets. In my thrall, I even forgot to pee until the last minute when I ran up into Julia and Steve's place, used their loo, and watched the bonfire from their balcony (this year they burned a flaming heart).

Is it true that each day will now get longer by one minute?

Good Latke
Tomorrow my mom will be making latkes for me and some friends. I thought I was doing her a favour by not asking for them, but then I started to feel bad about doing all this Xmas-related stuff, but not digging my own heritage. When I finally mentioned that no one makes potato pancakes with the same panache (it is true, no one makes them as good as my mama, and feel free to testify in comments if you have had them), I could hear her doing a virtual touchdown over the phoneline. God-1, Satan-0.


Dear Jazzbo
You'd just better behave yourself and stop pushing the vomit button on mommy's tummy. Jazzbo. Jazzbo! Wow. Can I go on?

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