Julian had his birthday party last night. Because his roommate is moving, there are boxes all over his apartment and almost no floorspace, so he had it in our apartment. Fortunately, all of Julian's friends are people who would rather drink gin and tonics and discuss whether or not J.K. Rowling is racist or not than to drink beer and get rowdy. Therefore, it was a lovely party and my apartment is not in shambles, though there is an unusually large collection of sparkling water bottles on the kitchen table.
I also got to be useful in a way I've never been useful before! One of the guests, Toph, said he was interested in studying neo-paganism but didn't know where to start. So I actually managed to give him good advice: learn to meditate, read books about mythology, gather basic altar supplies, and don't trust the internet. :D Hoorah for being useful!
Final piece of news: our third roomie has moved in! Tuttle is a CMU student with long, frizzy blond hair. He's a nice guy, but a little overenthusiastic sometimes. Google is probably hiring him; he start working there next summer. He is very exited about the oversized beanbag he bought for the living room.
The title of the post refers to the discussion Julian, Sara and I got into regarding how vulnerable I feel in heels, and this being caused mostly by my martial arts training me teaching me to stay on my flat feet. They tried to argue that it is possible to learn to fight in heels, and that it doesn't have to present a monstrous disadvantage.
I am still not convinced that this mythic "Stiletto Style" martial art exists. I must find the master of the style, hidden high up in the mountains, and train with her.
Incidentally, Julian looks really good in heels, tight black pants, tight black shirt, gray lace shirt over it, and strange womans' sweater. I wish I had taken a picture.
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