wildcat

(This is me when I was very, very wee. Nudist period. Father's photography work)

Accidentally turned twenty-six yesterday. You know how it goes: It was 9:36 in the morning and then it was 9:37 like that, and I completed another solar revolution (ONE LONE BOLSHEVIK AGAINST THE NIGHT!). It happens. Casualties of the revolution were low, happily, possibly as a result of Rumsfeld resigning.

Having managed, finally, to put on pants, I got my gear together and took off for Chinatown two minutes after the revolution and met up with Pirate Jenny at the Silk Road tea shop for a day-spa - we had back scrub / massages done. The whole procedure took maybe an hour and a half but was fairly invigorating - afterward, I felt better than I have in years. The feeling's continued until today, and I highly recommend pampering yourself at the Silk Road some time. They had different modes you could choose from - I went for an energizing scrub but "relaxing" was also an option, and a more nebulous "balancing." The massage aspect was fairly deep, which I prefer, and the whole thing was amusing in its West Coast qualities - the whalesong playing in the background (they import their own whales, I suspect) and the stress put on whispering over making any noise. Spas are interesting because of the vulnerable position you put yourself in - I was sitting around in my underwear with some complete stranger while she did things to my skin. But the end result was extremely positive.

After that we boarded the pirate ship and set sail on the High Seas, by which I mean downtown, and by ship I mean foot. First was the comic book shop - this being a Wednesday, and Wednesday being the "new comics release day," and a surprising number of comics that I was waiting for. Secondly: post office on Yates, the big one, THE POST OFFICE (as opposed to Postal Service thing) to send a letter on spritely air currents to Japan. Surprisingly affordable (I had, I admit, pictured comically large bills and forms signed in triplicate). One trip to the bank, one trip to the Lotus Pond for lunch, a foray into Munro's to look at books, and then we went shopping for an argyle sweater. Argyle! Only, tragically, it was very much a Goldilocks routine: either it wasn't there or it was Too-Hot-Too-Cold and Too-Soft-Too-Hard. No-no-no Just-right. I made do with a fantastic olive green zip-up hoodie with almost no brand name logoing anywhere on the outside. Hot damn!

After that, Pirate Jenny left on her ship and I took a bus up to Michael's house, stopping on the way to buy stuff for the night's entertainments. Michael baked me a cake with Daniel and later Penny while I read comic books and then talked-talked-talked: to my mum, and my dad.

The evening was spent at Dan's house; Daniel, Christian, Penny, Beth, Vicki, Steph, Dan and Michael all gathered for a potluck with the cake and salad and various-and-sundry cheeses. WINE! There was too much wine, but oddly in respectable amounts because most everyone had to work the next day, being as how we all became adults while we weren't looking. I especially, having revolted and become OLD, OLD, OLD AS THE HILLS, which is to say: I age in geological time. That isn't gas I'm passing, my fault lines are unsettled.

And, you know, there was the present. There was the card, signed by everyone, with a picture of a bitter old woman on the front and a Julie Andrews quote: "Sometimes I'm so sweet even I can't stand it." There was the present: an iPod. Michael got everyone together and they all contributed to buying me an iPod, which is ridiculous and sweet and too much, really, but it was awesome because everyone got to put songs on it for me. I've been blasting around to Nina Simone all of today as a result. It's fancy. You can play movies on it. It's like ENIAC's super-model/rocket-scientist cousin. All is full of love. I switched it up and found "Four Women" on my way home from work tonight. "My name is Peaches!"

Last night was a good time. Great time. Vicki was getting ready to go to San Franscisco for her birthday, and Steph and I chattered about things. I was invigorated by the spa treatment. I shouted things, mostly because I was drinking wine and you know what that does to me. Dan showed us his Complete New Yorker DVD set and we listened to "Tambourine Man" while we did the dishes afterward in Dan's tiny, oblong kitchen. After that, Michael and I shared a cab with Penny - who has moved into the new Elusive Number Six, and swaggered home for the night. Dot dot dot.

Michelle left me a voice mail and we emailed back and forth today, which was great, and she's going to phone me tomorrow night while Michael helps me set up iTunes and figure out how to set up the iPod's full potential and, you know, recharge it.

And the good day has turned into two good days, and I'm going to pound out a couple hundred words if I can so that the novella regains momentum and I can go to sleep happy tonight.