He spoke to me.
I had one of the shittiest days on record; academic failure, social failure, people told me that my new hair colour made me look like a witch, my friends were honest with me about it and said it looked pretty crappy, but as if to lessen the burden of my lack of visual appeal, they said "You'll be fine, because you're Fern."
Apparently, it is okay for me to look like shit, because I can handle it. Nice try, but no cigar.
Yesterday, Erika, Nia, Kitty, and I spent Halloween on second street. At Powell's Candy Shop we bought a surplus of candy cigarettes, and got a good laugh from inside The Coffee Bean, when Erika walked outside, stood by a man who was loitering in a similarly shady manner, and said "Nice night, eh?" to which the man replied with an equally farinaceous nod.
Then, having received his peripheral attention, she then proceeded to take out one of the candy cigarettes, from the shadow of the side which wasn't facing her audience, and produce a very disturbingly convincing puff of smoke; to which the observer's eyes widened.
Erika, now unable to keep a straight face, laughed, explained, shook hands, returned to her raucous viewers. We laughed until the sugar acid began to re-climb our throats, and then we stopped, "lit up", and laughed again-- a marvellous mixture of sugar, freedom, and adolescence created this euphoric geniality, that I've scarce seen with so many friends from such far corners of my life thrown together.
Nia's diplomatic and broad spectrum personality was really just about right for Kitty's dynamic bipolar personality, and Erika's eccentricity and love-of-life truly added to the congenial effect of the perfect magnum of characters they formed. I've never seen a meeting of friends of mine go so well.
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