Why do I keep having these dreams?
Every so often, I'll dream of downtown St. Catharines. Not as it is, not as it was, but as it could be. A month or so ago, I dreamed I was walking down the pristine St. Paul St, when we walked into one of the many patisseries dotting the street. I wanted a fresh croissant, while a cupcake had Spitey's eye. Before that, I had walked into a jewelry
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Sit down, dear.
For a long time now, all your friends, me included, have known that you are infact a PARISIAN stuck in a St Catharinite's body.
You're seeing the down town core as you would like it to be, in a serene other-world where we have REAL patisseries....DAMN I'd kill for a proper one in TORONTO...not fake-ass patisseries where the 'fresh' croisantes taste like the recylced centre of a Charmin toilet roll.
At least that's my theory. It makes sense with how classy you are internally despite your surroundings. *give Niagara Falls the evil eye*
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