I declared last night my first official night as a single woman in the Fortress of Solitude.
During the afternoon yesterday I spent one entire hour cleaning my fridge, and ended up ruining the dress I was wearing in the process. That of course serves me right for wearing a dress to do house-work. I unpacked almost all of my summer clothes, and put them away in my front closet where they will hopefully be safe from drywall dust. Then I got overwhelmed by all of the cleaning and unpacking still remaining, and I decided to escape for a little bit.
I went for a stroll down Roncesvalles and popped into two local second-hand book stores in search of a good read. I was overwhelmed by choice and ended up going with a history of life among the Bohemians at the turn of the century in London. I shall use it as a guidebook for both how to live, and how not to live. (I’m going with the art and sensualism and avoiding the poverty and starvation, and hopefully consumption.) I hit the Freshwood patio and had huevos, then walked to the park to meet my lovely friend Sav (who dubbed me “Schnoo” by the way). We enjoyed some locally grown strawberries and commiserated about boys and jobs and books, and then I went back to the park to do a bit of writing before returning home.
I had a little lay-down on the grass at my aunt’s house across the street, and we searched for her missing cat, who turned up locked in the neigbours shed, pooping up a storm. My cousin and I went on a rescue operation. I distracted the drunk who lives in the basement, and my cousin hopped the fence, scooped up both kitty and ca-ca, and scrambled back to her own yard just as the neighbours were pulling into their yard.
We deposited the errant cat, jumped in the car, hooked up the ipod and headed to Burlington.
My uncle shares his birthday with Canada, and has started a tradition of hosting a patio party at his penthouse, where we all sit and watch various fireworks displays. My mom sounded very eager to see me, so I thought I would put in an appearance. It was pretty low-key, but nice, and worth the excursion just to see my uncle in a suede fringe coat and leather cowboy hat with khaki shorts and socks-and-sandals. Rock and roll. I’m still not sure why, but my mom spent the better part of the evening staring at me across the table. She always knows when something isn’t right with me, but fortunately she didn’t ask any questions.
Once home, I made up my bed on the couch. The real bed doesn’t arrive until next week. It wasn’t too bad. Quite cozy, actually. I tucked into my new book, which had me unconscious in minutes. Perhaps not a good sign. I slept really well until my phone rang at quarter to seven.
Then every dream I had vanished from my brain, and I woke up having no idea where I was.
I’m looking forward to night two. Tonight I will tackle the stove and kitchen cupboards, and if there’s time, perhaps I will even dust and mop. Oohhh the passion and excitement. Thankfully, another awesome friend is springing me for chicken wings and the opening night of the Fringe play that she worked on as costume designer.
I keep telling myself I’m laying the groundwork for what will be a really sensational single lifestyle. Right now, it just feels dusty and like the plumbing isn’t quite working.
Rule #3 for the Fortress of Solitude: Always leave the Fortress ready for guests to stop in.