(Amen)
I never thought I had a fear of escalators. I take a little long to get on (that’s what she said), but that’s just good sense. You have to respect the motion. Last week, though, everything changed. I was going to lunch with some girls from work and we were laughing and talking and just generally being awesome and making everyone around us jealous of our good time. We proceeded to the escalator, I checked to make sure that I was getting on a fully formed step, and we began our descent. I was being hilarious (naturally) until I tried to shift my leg and realized that I couldn’t. I was stuck. STUCK in the stair of the escalator. I nonchalantly tried to pull my pant leg out of the area where it was stuck and, when it didn’t come free, panic set in. “Guys, I’m stuck. I’M STUCK!” “Stuck in what?” Let me mention that they were both laughing hysterically at my misfortune. “I DON’T KNOW. The stair?! Oh my GOD!” *begin frantic tugging on my pant in perhaps a more exaggerated manner than was necessary, but YOU try being stuck in the frigging escalator stair* At this point, I was envisioning my pants getting more and more stuck until they ripped or I had no choice but to remove them, and then I would end up in the middle of the concourse with no pants on and my train husband would probably walk by and he would laugh and I would just be there, just there with no pants on. And as much as I would like to be around him without any pants on, that is not the ideal situation for that to happen.
Subway
(Not exactly the type of dancing I had in mind, but I could see it happening. It's not like I haven't tried to do it before)
There is something about the subway that makes me want to break into song and dance (which I could probably do and receive no reaction whatsoever, as there are some weird ass people in Toronto that all the locals are totally used to). Every dance/romance movie in the world is based on an affluent classical dancer falling in love with a down and dirty street dancer from the wrong side of the tracks. At some point, these couples almost always are on the subway going to auditions, parties, or the poor one’s apartment that he (it’s almost always the dude) shares with his 10 siblings, abusive father, over worked mother, and their five cats because, for some reason, he feels it’s important for her to meet the family even though the shock (and, probably, the stench) is too much for the girl to bear and the guy feels ashamed even though it was totally his idea to go there and they break up until the end of the movie. Ahem. Sometimes there is even a dance scene ON the subway car. So, basically, I feel like I am in one of those movies and I am traveling not towards the train station, but towards an audition that no one knows about with a group that is totally not my usual scene but that I will of course rock and everyone will see what a beautiful dancer I am even though I am from the street or, conversely, that I can totally get down, yo, even though I am classically trained.
The End of the World
(If the end of the world is upon us, it better be representative of "The Day After Tomorrow". Complete with being trapped in a library with Hottie McHotterson, aka Jake Gyllenhaal)
I can’t not mention the "end of the world". Come on. On Friday I saw a guy walking around with his kid and holding a sign that said “Judgement Day is Tomorrow”. Yes, expose your son to your radical beliefs at an early age. That won’t scar him at all, nor will it severely affect his ability to make any friends. Hell, some guy spent his life savings on posters advertising "Doomsday." Hey buddy? If you're so sure the end is nigh, then maybe give that money to those of us that could use it for, like, shopping and stuff.
Honestly, I don’t know a whole lot about Judgement Day except for what Dean Blundell told me on the Edge, which is that Jesus is going to rise and take the believers and followers or whatever to Heaven and leave the rest of us on earth (think post-apocalyptic world like in The Road, which is terrifying because I neither want to be eaten by someone else, nor do I want to eat another human) until October when he destroys the whole world. Basically, the picture I have in my head is that Jesus or God or whatever is Ariel’s father in The Little Mermaid with his stick thing that like blows things up. Or something. I don’t know, I didn’t research it. I’m just beyond glad that I didn’t take the crazy ass preacher to heart and profess my love for every guy I think is attractive or eat my last meal of all my favourite foods (although let’s be honest, I do that every Friday night). Because after 6pm I would be stuck here on Earth with a man that doesn’t love me but who is overly aware that I love him (there would, of course, be a considerable amount of seduction involved during my confession, and it would not necessarily be pretty) and just hugely fat because I ate enough pasta, wine, and chocolate to last me an eternity. Literally.
Love,
Bella
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