Peace, Pink, and Quiet

Friday, my sayonaras said to my last departing parent, I resumed my secret life as a rock star. After making a few purchases of outrageous sunglasses and scarves, painting my nails a harlot's red, polishing up my ass kicking black leather lace-up boots, donning the fuzzy leopard print hat, painting the scarlet lips, as well as the aforementioned scarf and sunglasses, I headed out on the town to have my way with the world, or at least kick it to the curbside should it decide to stand against me, and knock a few people on their asses on the way. An excellent night out was had despite the lack of rock star antics, but that was made up for with the fawning adoration I received from some of my fans (for lack of a better word).

Saturday and Sunday were spent out in the pink, and Saturday under the yellow haze that happened to fly in from China for the day. During the stroll about town, amidst many encounters with neighbours and students, I also managed to run into some friends who were rather far afield compared to their usual haunts. Under the full on blooming glory of the sakura and wandering amidst the crazy 一式飾 sculptures of Hoshoji, laughs were had by the dozen as I attempted to convince a variety of townsfolks that no, Pete is not my boyfriend. Those efforts all fell to naught when a student saw me chastely kiss Pete goodbye -- the rumours I shall have to counter tomorrow... I am thinking that perhaps I shall just run with it and boldly claim he is, as well as Michael, the rather Elvis-looking Frenchman who was also out that day with his girlfriend, as well as a few others maybe... Cian? Ted? Who knows where the trail of broken hearts shall end. I blame it on the boots.

Saturday night, I thoroughly enjoyed the reclaimed quiet of my apartment. Putting on some mellow music (Jane Siberry, Paul Ubana Jones, Norah Jones), I opened the windows to spill the music into the garden where, illuminated by Christmas lights and a dozen or so candles, I sketched the garden, read some poetry and relaxed with the gin in my own private 花見 celebration. Ferlinghetti can be fabulous.