Pony: Things I did to avoid the throngs of soccer fans
7.4.2006

Saturday: Had brunch on Mia's back porch, not far from my place, but far enough from the soccer fans. We ate pancakes, lychees (which are GOLD this time of year). Mia's husband went out for milk and came back. "A car full of those soccer fans called me a fag."

We head back to my house to drop of my bike and run into Rebecca who is frazzled from fighting traffic on her bike through Liittle Portugal. "You know, it wouldn't be so bad if they would only get out of the cars and have a street party. The honking and the gunning down residential streets is fricking scary!"

Our conversation is interrupted by a lone, flag-draped car, honking away with enthusiasm. I put my finger to my lips and smile, shrugging my shoulders. He responds by leaning on the horn and driving slowly past us with a shit-eating grin on his face.

We have dinner in Little India with my mom. I am glad that India is not into soccer.

Sunday: Abi and I decided to try and leave the city and swim in a lake. After a 2 hour drive to lake simcoe, we parked the car only to see scads of Portugese and Italian flags waving from fellow lake-seekers. Nooooooooooooo! Fortunately, the soccer fans seemed to be taking a day off from leaning on their horns and shouting nasty epithets out of the window.

Amadou and Maryam at the Harbourfront stage. Great, free concert. A lot of their songs sound the same. But the show rocks and they are a great presence.

Monday: Blissful, sweet quiet day. Brunch with Kate on Dundas Street. No soccer games today and a day off to boot. I read in my backyard. No one is honking their horn. I eat half a papaya with lemon juice on it. I clean the pints of strawberries from Saturday's road trip. I make sandwiches and black bean soup for me and Josh. I am so pleased with the peace and quiet, I start to feel suburban. Or middle aged. Or both.

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