july 23, 2002.
Coming to you live from the Halifax Train Station!
Oh my heavens, am I exhausted. We got up @ 7 a.m. and we've been in a state of flux ever since. I suppose the only good things about our day are
- the plane is considerably faster and more efficient than over-land transport (or courier de bois methods for that matter - far less portaging for one thing) and
- the bus station has moved to the train station building in an altogether nicer area of town. If one has to spend 2 hours sitting with one's luggage, one might as well be in a big cool hall with grass and trees outside.
The Boy has disappeared into the streets; I was allowed to do so in December and now it's his turn.
Just back from the washroom and suddenly I can understand why people are staring. I look positively wild - my hair escaping from the pigtails into frizzy curls that point everywhichway. I looked better after two days of driving. Hell, I looked better coming home from StanFest after 4 shower-free days. Still, it's quite enjoyable to look into a mirror and see a beast. I could go off at any moment.
St. Pete's party, by the way, was swell, albeit hot. We hung out with quite a few Tea People I haven't seen in years (I think St. Jack's living with half of them now) as well as Brit Boy, St. Jack, St. Stephen (back from BC with even more StanFest stories), Kandyraver Kat, &c. Strangely enough, I also got to speak to Princess Leia, who was calling from Middleton. (We have a tentative playdate for this week. How cyclical.)
The city is full of happy, sweaty, beautiful pilgrims. It seemed a shame to leave.
