"Did you know," called out a gnarled, homeless-looking guy with a cigarette, causing me to break stride and reluctantly take out my earbuds, "did you know that seven thousand... minus two thousand... equals five thousand?" He held up five fingers.
Um. "Yes?" I ventured, smiling.
"That's correct!" he crowed, and strode away, guffawing loudly. "Thank you!" I called after him, and put my earbuds back in and resumed my walk.
I see random people.
Walking, pacing, biking, dancing - just to keep moving, is the best cure I've ever come across for heartache. It isn't good enough, but I guess it'll have to do.
Mind you, when I say dancing, I mean dancing to music that other people can hear; I don't care how cool those old iPod commercials were, dancing to yours will only make you look like a spaz. And word to that chick on the hike-and-bike trail last week: that goes double for singing along! You know who you are.
It's also helpful to whinge to the exact same friends who have been telling me for two years that I was acting like a complete idiot and really needed to give it up and walk away already. These friends are remarkably patient with me, considering. Still, it's always nice to make new friends, if only to give the old ones a break; we wouldn't want them to get bored.
Felicia and I met through Tony a few weeks ago, and hit it off grandly. Last night I met up with her and some of her friends at the Parish for an 80's dance party. And did we dance!
Considering the theme of the evening, I was a little surprised to see so many youngsters - who were also the ones who dressed for the occasion, albeit not always with complete accuracy. There was a free intermingling of spandex with leg warmers, black lace fingerless gloves, and sequins - the 80's being represented as a big mishmash of Michael Jackson, Madonna, the Cure, Depeche Mode, AC/DC, and wait, wasn't that Fergie?! On the one hand, I was there, and the 80's were really not very much like last night. On the other hand, last night was a lot more fun.
I ache all over today. The ache inside is still worse. Distract and wait, distract and wait; keep moving, keep going, and have random conversations with questionable strangers. It has to get better eventually.
Meanwhile, put on some spandex and dance!