...plaits, godlights, down to the wire...

It was singularly outrageous and charmingly community-building - earlier this afternoon, a group of about 15 random strangers stood together chatting over the course of 20 minutes in the South-East vestibule of Sheppard subway station, while we waited out a downpour that had sheets of cold water rushing down the stairs soaking our flip-flop-clad feet.

Note to self: Do not wear gorgeous teal-tulle skirts to occasions featuring a handful of eligible Persian males or your aunt will spend hours hounding you to try and make you dance with them.

I love Persian men, for the record. Their utter certainty in their own accomplishment and attraction, their - ... hmm, how shall I phrase this... moral flexibility? - and their conversation habits which range from insipid to completely inappropriate. I obviously don't refer to all Persian men, but the ones in that particular circle certainly, as well as the ones with whom I myself have had experience. Joyous fun.

This week's reading:

Conrad's Fate - Diana Wynne Jones
A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving (I just read a pre-release of his latest, and was disappointed a little so I'm regressing to the masterpieces)
The Secret Life of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4 - Sue Townsend
Dona Flor and her Two Husbands - Jorge Amado
The House of the Spirits - Isabel Allende