Today was horribly, horribly lonely for me. Although it is unfair to say that without qualifying that today had its good parts. But understand that the good parts consisted of my parents celebrating the anniversary of thirty-three years of married life (not helping with my feelings of acute loneliness) and my dear friend Paul’s wedding announcement phone call (also, not with the helping).

All day I was surrounded by swarms of people, yet felt completely isolated. Bell jar styles. Entirely my fault, really. I was in a black mood from the moment I rolled out of bed, and I spent the day pursuing my own freakish little interests, all by myself. Went alone to the Toronto Comicon for a couple of hours, just to get my bearings for tomorrow, and then stayed up late watching the live performance of ‘Evil Dead: the Musical’, also alone.

At the Comicon, I didn’t take any spending money, and didn’t really try to meet people (although I did have a decent talk with Janet Hetherington of Lulu fame, and discussed fonts and child-friendly comics with her partner Ronn Sutton who pencils Elvira). Every time I go, I find I’ve forgotten what big, geeky conventions are like. So many people, so much noise, so many obsessions. Masses of people wearing odd smelling combinations of leather and felt and wool, and The Masquerade isn’t even until tomorrow.

I used to find this atmosphere incredibly charming and relaxed, especially when going on my own. Everyone you met was a potential friend through shared interests and the bonds of nerd-dom: everybody just letting their fake green hair down, expressing their individual passions and kinks in a comfortable, safe environment. I was one of them. There were many young women today who reminded me of me at 14, but I wasn’t feeling that connection. Conversation with my fellow redhead Alex, Purveyor of Buttons and Partner in Crime, was a great comfort. Eventually, however, I had to leave her be so she could flog her wares, and I set up wandering aimlessly through the hordes again. I experienced some difficulty navigating the Artists’ Alley, which is my favorite section, due to a desire to avoid causing discomfort. Hopefully will do better tomorrow.

Left the convention at around 8:30pm, to avoid the closing rush and because the solitude of crowds was starting to choke me and my feet were sore (people kept stepping on the back of my flip-flops all day). The soreness and solitude continued as I decided to walk back to my place and make a detour along Queen Street — not the best idea. Sat down and cried for a while in a park on the way home. When I got back, there was the sound of tumbleweeds rolling over my answering machine. Nobody had returned my calls, so I indulged in about three minutes of abject self-pity until the phone rang, and who should it be but my friend Paul.

Cutting to the chase of the matter, he told me he had asked his long-time girlfriend Amy to marry him five days ago and they’ve planned the wedding to take place in less than two months. I am ecstatic for Paul, and supremely happy to be going to his wedding since there is no question I will have a good time, but I have to admit I was having some trouble mustering the necessary “huzzah!” tone in my voice. Call it a little girl fantasy if you will, but I was sort of hoping by the time Paul decided to tie the knot, I wouldn’t have to attend solo. Just sort of brought the loneliness of the day to a new low.

I had to cut the phone call short to run off to the Tranzac Club and get my reserved ticket for Evil Dead. The advantage to going to shows alone is that there is never any trouble finding good seats. I had a perfectly clear, close-up view of Ash beheading his girlfriend, and his demon-possessed sister taunting him from the chained cellar door was right at my eye-level. The production was marvelous. Although a couple of the musical numbers were weak, and the second act lost some of the momentum of the first, it was well worth the $17 admission. The actors were hilarious and had decent singing voices, the band tight, and the staging inspired. I have to give it two evil, severed thumbs up.

It’s two-thirty am. I’m sleepy. There’s a cold breeze coming in my window from the street, and I’ve wrapped my duvet around me like a cocoon. I wish someone warm and nice-smelling had their arms around me, holding me close. Sad.

2003-08-23 – 2:25 a.m.