I'd heard about this other actor's group that I'd seen on the web and decided to check it out. I'd mentioned it to my other actor's group, but they expressed no interest in coming. I was all excited yesterday, finally getting the chance to meet up with even more actors in Winnipeg.

The weather was crappy, windy and dreary, looking like it might rain. I dressed warm enough to brace the weather. At a bus stop, my dad drove up to me in his cab, with another cabbie friend riding shotgun, and when my dad was joking around, I leaned into the other guy and said, "My dad is crazy". They laughed and drove off. The Loser-cruiser finally comes and I'm taken downtown, trying to imagine my evening of other actors, fully animated in "Shoptalk" and hands flapping excitedly, facial expressions wide with child-like glee, laughter bursting through the air recalling best/worst moments in theatre or film, and then the reality of it hit me: what if no one showed up? What if I arrived there, waited for half and hour and was heartbroken? I'd have felt like a traitor, missing out on my other actor's group which was suddenly switched to wednesdays, and I'd be crawling to them, confessing it was a bust and being forgiven in a condescending way.

I finaally arrive and ordered a hot apple cider for my cold then found a place to wait. I was way too early, but I went to the server behind the counter and asked that if anyone was looking for other actors to point at me. He decides to tell me that he's an aspiring filmmaker himself, and I decided to act interested, nodding and saying, "Hmm, fascinating! Anyway...." and then I'd change the subject and be off to my table. Everytime someone entered the place, I'd look at them, carefully so as not to look like I was a desperate single person on the make.

It was a few minutes after 7, the time we were to meet, and I decided no one was coming, so I put my coat and scarf on, disappointed. "Excuse me, are you part of the acting thing?" said the scruffy blonde guy, and after I said yes, he sat down and we just gabbed and gabbed for an hour and 14 minutes, then he was on his way and I went to my busstop for the other actor's group.

I was indecisive: should I go home and take in this actor's date that I'd just had that was so stimulating, or head on over to the other one that was expecting me? I could've told them that I didn't get a confirmed call about the night and other excuses, but I decided to look at the posted bus schedules, and whichever came first was the bus I'd take.

I ended up going to the meeting.

It was basically the reading of scenes, but one member wanted me to talk about the meeting I was at earlier. I decided to just tell what happened, like it were no big deal yet fun, one of those, "It didn't mean anything, I'm still loyal to you guys" type of ramblings.

During a break, I couldn't stop talking about it, me and the one guy who showed up. "Was he cute?" one actor said jokingly, and I only said, "I wasn't interested".

I was so vague.

As I was arriving home, just coming around the corner, I saw over my house the Northern Light, Aurora Borealis, faintly streaking the sky! It was perfect timing too.

It capped off the night perfectly.

My parents were home; my mom was in bed but dad was in the kitchen with his two boozing buddies, one of them Sweet Foot. What kind of a name is that, I'll never understand. Is that a nickname or did his parents actually have a clear head when they inflicted that handle on him? I still want him to explain his name origins to me someday. The other friend noticed my dredlocs and was locked onto my locs with his eyes, asking if they were real.

I hate that question!

After my dad knocked on my door to offer me some coffee, it was ready in less than 10 minutes when I went towards the pot with my filthy mug. Coffee at night knocks me out, I reassurred Sweet Foot. I'll never get over that name, even typing it still sticks to me. I affectionately rubbed my dad's head, and the 3rd person mentioned that his little girl does that too, to which I smooched the top of dad's head and rubbed it, like I were to be granted a wish from it or something. I was still processing Sweet Foot's interrogation when I first entered the house: "What are you doing out this time of night? What are you up too?", like I were some juvenile delinquent! Crazy ol' coot! I only answered, "Don't worry, I wasn't having sex or up to no good. I live at home with my parents, I have no life", and that was the end of that subject. My dad has some loud friends.