I was going to spend the day reading like crazy and catching up on newspapers but at about 11 am I ran into some friends in a classroom. I quickly remembered this was about 15 hours into the 24 hour crash course play festival. Ian and Gordon had finished writing their play "The Musical Broventures of Tod Dwight", a Bon Jovi rock opera. Yeah, soak that in. At that point I joined in as a backup dancer/bro ho/bro/drugster. It was way more fun than being productive on a Saturday. We managed to get quite a crowd and the dance numbers were a success, except that Shot Through the Heart was cut due to technical difficulties. Obviously, I was pretty upset.
After the show (and after much cajoling), I dressed up and headed out with Mark and Marc. I was wearing the boots that have been dubbed the "knock me down and fuck me" boots by Mark. We went downtown to Nocturne, a big art show that had all the galleries, and even some stores with displays set up, open to the public at night. We heard the last song of an outdoor concert by "I see Rowboats" that I loved and we went into a cute second-hand clothes store owned by a really cool guy. He had his grandmother's entire body of work on display, and some of the paintings were breathtaking. Apparently Justin Trudeau still has the portrait she did of his father.
It was a really nice night. I was a little chilly, and my feet hurt by the end of it (these boots were clearly not made for walking), but I loved the feeling of being completely swept up in the night. When I go out I always have a plan. Who, Where, What, When, How (I'm getting there) -- before I ever left the house, I'd always know those things, mostly because my mother would ask them all. I just got into the habit of making a fully expanded plan with backups and fallbacks, in case anything went wrong. When Mark invited me to Nocturne, he didn't have any details. I can't believe I actually went. "Where are we even going??" I asked Mark while trying to decide.
"Dude, it doesn't even matter," he told me, "you're wearing sexy boots."
As we walked around downtown, passing the bottle of mixed gin back and forth, I couldn't think of any way this night could be improved by a plan.
A totally random extra bit -- the story Mark, Maximillian and I
While we walked, we wrote a story. It was a tale of international love and art. Mark and I had met in New York and fell madly in loved. We traveled the world together, making art and I became his muse. After returning to New York, he became addicted to drugs and, though it broke my heart, I left him and went to Europe, where I met Count Maximillian (played by Marc). He was a rich german count, a lover of art, and we met at an exhibition of Mark's work. Though I still loved Mark, I became engaged to Maximillian, believing that my Mark was dead or lost in addiction.
What I didn't know is that Maximillian was such a fan of Mark's because the two of them went to Art school together. Maximillian was not so talented, in the end, and his father refused to continue paying for his education there. And now, Mark and I had met again, after so many years; I engaged to another man but still in love with Mark and he waiting for me, finally off the drugs. (Maximillian is very uncomfortable with the situation). I continue to be Mark's muse, even though I won't have anything to do with Maximillian's (awful) art. Maximillian will become more and more angry and hurt, while I am wrapped up in an affair with Mark. I smell an Oscar.