During one of the colder day this past winter, I decided to go through the letters I got in high school and put them in a binder. I read some of them as I put them in the binder.
One of the first things I noticed was that most of them didn’t have dates. The next thing was some of the letters didn’t have names on them, leaving me to guess who wrote them. With some of them I was able to match the hand writing to another one with a name on it. With the rest, I had no fucking clue.
Some of the topics we wrote about in these letters were:
That bitch talking behind your back
What we did or didn’t do on the weekend
Crushes on Boys
I spent a lot of time laughing and cringing at my teenage letters. I can remember thinking I was so profound and brilliant as a teenager and nobody really understood me. As it turns out, I was an idiot like the rest of them. It was a wonderful trip back in time.
Last night and very early this morning I was at Nuit Blanche.
As per my tradition I tried to live tweet and post photos for most of the night. I would say the full 7-7 but My phone was nearly dead by 3. Totally worth it.
I was with a group of people for the first few hours I was out. My friend Hilary was in that group and evereytime we heard some new music I would say “New theme.” Like we had a sound track for our night. We also made jokes about being an art zombie hoard and being a school of art fish. It was awesome.
I spent most of my time at the exhibits at city hall and on Spadina. It was a lot more spread out this year so I was dead tired by 3 am. I feel like there wasn’t as much this year. There was a lot more food trucks than art exhibits.
I took some crappy pic with my cell and mini cam.
Some of my tweets from the event.