Best Friday Ever

Fridays are great days of the week, but I feel as if, quite possibly, this Friday was a cut above all the rest. Certainly above many I've had.

My buddy Cindy from the Summer Studies office came to class to give us our course evaluations, for which we were all prepared to complete with vigour. I am so ready for class to be over, but I am also so ready to do well this week. It feels pretty solid. Then when I went upstairs to give them back to her, I noticed that she has recently become engaged, which is what she was hoping would happen soon at the beginning of the summer. So lovely.

Then I went home and Thomas came over to fulfill our goal of vegan margarita cupcakes. There's something about classy, measured vegan baking (as opposed to Fairkid style, which requires replacing every other ingredient) that is so good for the soul. We squeezed limes and grated zest and made icing like total pros. Mmmm delicious.

While they baked and cooled, I made fruited chicken curry for lunch, although it was pretty late, which I knew Thomas would love, because he is a total foodie. There is so much going on in it, and I've been wanting to make it myself since May. So much delicious garlic and coriander and gingembre, which I spent hours trying to figure out how to say by memory. Thomas beat me by retaining "recipe," which is a stupid hard English word.

We ate our curry and drank pomegranate lemonade and talked about our feelings and lives, slipping in and out of French and English. I love the bilingual crowd. Love. It.

The afternoon slowed down a little, and having a late lunch threw me off, because I just ate some grapes and a Payday, which everyone knows is my favorite snack in this universe. I stopped by Molly's house for her gathering, but then got a call that everyone was meeting at Vallarta in the Village, so down the Plateau I went.

Vallarta is owned by this guy Miguel and this crowd of dudes is very in with him and we sat on the terrace and kept getting poured drinks. Maybe I forgot to eat dinner, but maybe it was fun anyway.

At this juncture, Matt and I accidentally started quoting Miss Congeniality and Legally Blonde, which continued for the rest of the evening, and may or may not have been obnoxious, but it was a series of funny things said by all. For instance:

Dr. Matt: Are there good med schools in Boston?
Me: Well, there's Harvard...

At about midnight, after lots of laughs and what not, we went to Unity, as per usual, where Thomas bought me a rum and pineapple in VIP (and my first rum and pineapple in a long while) and danced and danced, which was especially glorious when they started playing the Venga Boys, which brought me back immediately to 6th grade and the Blanchard Play and 9:15 on Saturday mornings.

We also talked about feelings on the terrace in the rain, Mathieu and I, and both he and Thomas have separately confirmed my choice in career path as a counselor. Win.

At 3 AM, we all went to McDonalds, where I ate fries and drank Fruitopia (where did Fruitopia go in the US? I wonder this.) and laughed and laughed. Then I slept at Thomas's place, and this morning, he, Matt and I snuggled in our underwear for several hours, trying to teach Thomas how to give hickies on the insides of our arms, and Matt taught me how to perform minor dermatological procedures.

Finally, we went to Chez Cora for breakfast and had eggs (I haven't eaten straight up eggs for years until this summer) and smoothies and held our sleepy heads. Showers feel great, so do naps, so do preparing for tests when you really want to be so doing. Honestly, best Friday ever. Love my life.

The Best of Times, the Worst of Times

It's been a while, although eventful. Last time we tuned in, I still had weeks left, but now it's a matter of days and I'm freaking out. I love Montréal, but in many respects, I'm ready to go home.

The thing that is absolutely hardest about being here is that while I've made some really great friends and met some amazing people, I've only known them for, at most, seven weeks or so, which means that when I happen to be having a cruddy day, I don't feel like I ought to depend on them like one does with older friends. So today I cracked and called Kirsten and ended up crying on Sainte Famille about our lose-lose situations (which recently doubled for a NYC street called "Pineapple Street" in filming for Vanessa Hudgens's upcoming project), but fortunately, I was wearing my new blue wayfarers, so passers-by couldn't tell. Whatever. Life goes on. On the way home from our class dinner out, Jenna and I discussed how much we missed the closeness of our friends from home/school, how much we want to go back and resolve our dramas, and how we're sick of talking on the phone being this illicit activity. But at the same time, we love it here. Then I brought her back to my apartment where I gave her the pineapple earrings that I've had for two years but never worn, which seems to indicate that they would be better with someone who has the word for "pineapple" in Hawaiian tattooed on her back. I was definitely right.

Last Friday was another excellent Friday at Unity, and when I get home, I always feel like a rockstar. This Friday was no exception. Promises of margarita cupcakes were made with my friend Thomas, and it appears they'll come into existence tomorrow. I am much excite.

On Monday I went to my new friend Justin's (from Ohio) place, where he has a pool (!) and we dipped our feet in the water and then made classy tortellini and salad and reminsced about classic Nickeloleon (especially since we have a mutual friend named Kel, which just makes for a lot of "Who loves orange soda? Kel loves orange soda!") and being an American abroad. Good times were had by all.

On Tuesday I had people from class over for a pot luck luck pot, which was full of fun times, laughs, and all of us getting to hear our English voices instead of French for an evening.

I made a macaroni and cheese and sliced up some bell peppers for the munching, and everyone else filled in the rest! Valerie, cutie cutting tomatoes to the left, brought things for a caprese salad, ketchup flavored chips (a very Canadian thing), beer, wine, AND a reusable bag that she insisted that I keep, what with my love for reusable bags. Then there were pitas and dips from Carla, strawberries and chocolate from Karen, guacamole from Jenna, and sweet potato bread from Luke the Lawyer, and then after Jenna and I went out with Matt for beers, who showed up for a nice second wave. We had a discussion about the differences between Americans and Canadians, made fun of each others' accents, and the Canadians asked us things like, "So, the whole health care "debate"...how is that a debate? What's the other side of that argument?" and "How do you deal with the Evangelical south? Jesus Camp freaked us out." Potlucks are great.

Anyway, life continues on. I'm turning in for an early one, drinking mint tea and eating Kinder cookies and am transported to my Saturday spring lunches. I am really ready to be done with class, but I'm not ready to leave Montréal, but there are certain things I miss. Like corn muffins. Corn muffins are not a Canadian thing. Why this is, I am not sure. But I miss them like crazy now. But I'm sure when I go back I'm going to miss déps and Oasis juice and Tim Horton's. Valerie buys me a banana nut muffin every day with her sandwich so she can make it a combo. It's the simple acts of kindness that have made my life here so great.

Just know wherever this finds you, you are missing to my life. Love.

Newprincess, the Comeback Tour

Well, after a visit from the family, most of which I regrettably spent sick in bed, I am back in action. Three days of fever was no no fun, nor is the cough I'm still nursing, but such is life. After being basically alone in my apartment for like, 5 days, I was so ready to be back in action.

On Thursday, Jenna and I went on several adventures, involving lunch after class (and delicious wine coolers called a "Sex and the City," which is interesting given I've been rewatching the series), doing a little window shopping (and falling in love with a dress at American Eagle, not usually my style but whatever), and then after a few hours off, heading out to the Jazz Festival. We heard some great jazz trio and some great rock group that kept asking, "WHAT TIME ARE WE ALIVE? TONIGHT!"

Then I introduced Jenna to the joys of pomegranate lemonade with liquor, and her roommate Sarina introduced us to the joys of crushed berries in cocktails, and then we sat on the balcony talking about Québec separatism and mutual Obie friends from Santa Monica.

All day Jenna had been working on origami roses for her new beau, and then at midnight she decided that she and I should deliver them. To the Plateau. Which for the record, was not a 20 minute walk, as I was promised.

A little tip-tip, Jenna and I walked up Saint Laurent where we polled standers-by on drunk/team texting (results were pretty affirmative), and then were stealth when we got to the block in question. However, as we were turning the corner, this guy wearing an Obama shirt was turning in the opposite direction, and I stopped talking to Jenna to say "GOBAMA," at which he laughed. Then Jenna walked me home while I whined about my feelings and tired feet a little, but she's a good friend. Perhaps a bad influence, but a great friend :)

Friday night brought a truly great night indeed. I scored myself a sweet invite to Unity, one of the most well-known gay clubs in the Village, where within a few minutes, I was introduced to a recent med school grad and thus even more recent doctor, and a Québécois movie star, a fashion merchandiser, and many more new friends. Also, I promised to help a new friend study for the SATs so he can go to Berkeley. I am really pleased that gay men like buying straight girls drinks and like dancing with me in my great polka dot dress, which apparently, as I've learned, gives off the impression of a French girl, and not an American one. For the win.

Moral of the story is that I have finished my 13-page French research paper (YES WE CAN), done boatloads of laundry, and talked my super out of starting my shower repairs until Monday so I could work hard all weekend (which I did, barf). Tonight, to celebrate, I went to my favorite Bar Laitier (ice cream place), where the two pubescent boys who work there give me the largest smalls I've ever seen.

I have made great friends and great dates for the future. Life feels awesome. I miss Oberlin every day, but I know once I'm gone I will miss Montréal more than anything too. Quoi faire? On ne sait jamais...

STEVIE WONDER!!!!

Okay so I'm excited. I just saw Stevie Wonder. For free. In Montreal. For free. It's four in the morning and I don't care.

So I got to the Scène General Motors at about 12:45 pm, just after class, where I met to really nice schoolteachers from Toronto who schooled me on my relationship issues and assured me that life was going to be great, because soon there would be Stevie Wonder. They had us gated all the way up at the back of the area, and they were planning on opening the gate at 3.

This chatty lady sits near us and that was all well and fine, and then my friend Alex showed up, and we were waiting for others, but they opened the gate and all hell broke loose. We ran down to near the stage, and were literally, fifth row center. So we're chilling in the sun (which is a little bit painful at times, but enough people had umbrellas out for shade that it was okay), and then we made friends with the people around us.

It started with this guy Claudio, who was right behind us, then this circle of people behind him, Amira, Jamal, Steve, and François, and then after a while, this friend of Claudio's, Rosie, shows up, and so does this guy Dominic who's friends with the group. Dominic looks familiar, but we go on with our lives.

This group of people did not mess around with food. They have sandwiches, fruit, everything. I'm sharing my grapes and strawberries and things with Alex, mostly, but then I break out my cookies to share with everyone, and that was great. They were a big hit and then the three groups meld into one group of friends, sharing food, dép wine & coke, and water and watching out for each other. Rosie and I have a great talk about our potential futures in public service and how much good we want to put in the world.

Stevie does his sound check, and we all get to listen. It was like a whole free concert. Just chilling in the 5th row watching Stevie check the sound. Amazing.

Then I realize why Dominic looks familiar - he was a waiter at this restaurant I went to with Karen and Carla a few weeks ago, Marché 27. We had a pretty extensive conversation at the time, and then we were really like OH! That's who you are. Awesome.

At this point, all of our stuff is in a pile, we're dancing to the warm up DJ, and it starts to rain. Boo hiss. We cover all of our things with a sheet, and then cover it with my umbrella. Very smart. Then we are dancing in the rain. Everyone else has their umbrellas up like pansies, but we are letting loose and having so much fun. Then the rain stops, and STEVIE PLAYS.

There are no words but magic. It was so full of good energy, and he put a lot of energy into talking about Michael Jackson's recent passing and what that means for music and for us, and played some of Michael's songs, some newer stuff, then just a beautiful revue through the classics, ending with Superstition, ending in the rain, ending with a mélange of Michael Jackson songs to end, and fireworks, because at this point, it's past midnight, and thus, is Canada Day.

Then me, Alex, Jamal, Rosie, and Dom all go on a mission for food and bathrooms. We end up walking from the Jazz Festival to a pizza place on Saint Laurent and Pins probably, which is far, in case you were wondering, and are just delighted to eat. Alex breaks off, and the four of us find Amira to give her back a bag at a bar on Saint Laurent, Vol de Nuit, and split a pitcher, and told stories about being kids and laughed a lot. Then we walk home, and in the end, it was me, Jamal, and Rosie, and we realized that none of us had known each other a day ago and how Stevie brought us together and how great that was.

Also, my team won at Trivia Night on Monday which equaled a free pint of beer for Rebecca and the three teammates. I also definitely brought two correct answers to our team, which felt awesome. People are so willing to be friendly and caring in this city.

I love this city. I want to live here forever. Life is great.

Imagine.

Hello blog fans! Well. After a crazy day today, some mild panic stress calls to the US late last night, and being 3/4 through Legally Blonde, which always makes me feel better (say what you want, it is a story of triumph, just like Cool Runnings), I shall to settle down and tell you a story with some pictures, especially for our friends who do not have access to Facebook.

Yesterday I went to the Musée des Beaux Arts de Montréal, where an exhibit on John Lennon and Yoko Ono was closing.

Now, I have always been kind of intrigued by the relationship of John and Yoko, mostly because their relationship was so strong, so immediately, which is fair, but it was also kind of at the expense and destruction of other things (namely the Beatles's collective career and John's first marriage and consequently relationship with his son Julian, about whom "Hey Jude" was written). So to say the least, I was really curious about this exhibit, and what they would show about the Lennon/Ono connection.

What I found at this exhibit was that a lot of her/their earlier work, heavily-laden in obscure symbolism, was pretty indicative of the use of Yoko as a derogatory term towards people who divide solid unions. But then the exhibit continued (concluding in the Imagine era), and I was more convinced that Yoko and John really believed in love and peace and were, at their core, radical and kind of fun.

This is fair, but I still am not past the fact that Julian Lennon and Mrs. John 1 lived a scorned life because of John being swept up in Yoko Fever. Might just be from where I come, but when Paul McCartney is writing your son songs to get you through your divorce, maybe you should evaluate your relationships. The other thing I like about the song "Hey Jude" is that it is also applicable for Jude the Obscure, a British lit favorite. The other thing about John Lennon is that I have a really hard time looking at pictures or videos of him, especially frappant while watching "A Hard Day's Night," because I always look at the date and think, "In x years, you'll be...gone, and you have no idea." That's true of anyone who dies, obviously, but it always gets me with John Lennon for some reason. Don't know why that is.

After the museum, Karen, Carla and I continued on a nice walk downtown, stopping at a dép (short for dépanneur, convenience store) for cool beverages and enjoying the sun that had been away for a while. Then I came home and made myself nachos for dinner (om nom fiesta nom), and it was great. Aside from a minor housing crisis (which is averted, إن شاء الله), things are doing pretty well. This place is really becoming my home.

So I guess in the spirit of things, we should all give peace a little chance, especially since on our way back home, we saw people en manifestant about Iran at the gates of McGill. While I was talking to Sally last night, I said that I felt like I had gone through enough bad to deserve good things, but not necessarily put out enough good to deserve them. Just thinking about such things.

Anyway, nachos are delicious, I've been taking lots of walks in the evening, and keeping up with mes études québécoises. Best to you all.

As Seen on TV

Another week in the life of an American Girl in Canada, which was mostly rainy and full of letter-writing, but so it goes.

On Monday, I had three friends from class over for dinner and felt like quite a lady. We wined and dined and talked about Montreal and how it really is the best city in Canada. What's weird here is that the three major cities in Canada are Vancouver, Toronto, and Montreal, and then there are the minor ones (province capitals, etc etc), but other than that, it's all about those three. In the US, there are the big big cities, but then there are big cities, then baby cities (like Tallahassee, I'm pretty sure that Miami is more major, but Tallahassee is still the capital), but there are no shortage of cities to move to. But that just means that more cool people stay in Montreal, which is great because it means that there are cool people in Montreal.

After not having class on Wednesday (which was delightful, by the way, I spent most of the day in bed in my underwear watching The OC and emailing Cecilia long epic emails about love, the world, and the universe and then I went for an evening walk and came across an outdoor fashion show), we spent Thursday and Friday in class talking about feminist issues in 20th century Québec, which is a narrow subject and not too different from feminist issues in the US, but still interesting and we had a good discussion group on Thursday. A lot of the students in my class are actually McGill law students, so they are really good thinkers about equality issues and things of the like. It's also in their best interest to take this class, to speak French better and also to understand Québec so they can practice here. They're an interesting bunch, from all over Canada and at very different points in their lives.

With Thursday and Friday a little rainy (and today even overcast), I've spent a lot of time inside in my bed, which is nice, but I'm looking foward to it getting nice again. Last night I went to the class outing at a pub in the Quartier Latin, and then out and about (note: must be read oot and aboot, since this is coming from north of the border, eh) with Carla and Karen on Rue Saint Laurent, which is a great main street of restaurants and cafés and stores, and there was a spring street festival with lots of vendors selling t-shirts and dresses and things, as well as restaurants grilling on the street for cheaper than eating inside. The most interesting vendor was a whole tent of a guy selling ShamWow. Literally, dozens of ShamWows that people were actually buying on the street. I really wished that the guy had that annoying little over-ear microphone and doing a demonstration, but no such luck.

Ater that, we came back to my apartment, drank some wine, did some henna, and watched Sleeping Beauty, which is always a favorite, especially my favorite. I hope the weather clears up tomorrow so that I can go to the park and listen to drum circles and maybe find some Midieval reenactors in the woods swordfighting.

The Jazz Festival approacheth, as does more time I've spent in Montreal. I'm doing well, but missing friends and places. Hope this finds you all well.

It's not that easy being green...

...but Montreal is rocking it. This is where I live, by the way. Green, even downtown.

It is so hard to find a plastic bag in this city! They have seriously phased out plastic bags to the point that one must pay 5 cents for one, and it is so passé to not bring one's own bags to the grocery store. Even at the McGill bookstore, I would have had to pay for a plastic bag, so I bought a reusable one for a dollar, which now I use for groceries. If you say you need a bag, they say "Oh." like you hate the environment and shoot puppies. So no more plastic bags, which is sad because I use them for my trash. It seems paradoxical, because if I can't reuse plastic bags, then I'd have to buy plastic trash bags, which seems silly. What to do?

There's also very little litter on the streets, and the new bike share program, Bixi. The bike terminals are everywhere, and I see people riding them everywhere in the city. Apparently, the first half hour is free, and then it's $1.50 for each subsequent half hour, unless you do a subscription of sorts. People are very excited. One of the guys in my class rode a Bixi to our class outing on Friday, and everyone was so curious about how it had gone. Montreal is a really good city for bikers (many bike lanes and the roads are pretty linear), so I hope systems like this really keep appearing in other cities.

I made some friends in class and we went out on Friday, and ending up dancing at a Sco-like place with a new gay friend to some excellent Europop, which eventually became a retrospective of music from Motown through funk. All in all, a great night, and last night I went to this event run by my friend Annie, and her work is in slow, precise movements to be aware of one's body and get in touch with internal things that are hidden by the rapid pace of life. It was kind of difficult following directions on body movement in French, but I certainly learned a few new words, like pelvis, and did my best. I'm really loving the Montreal hippie crowd, and went to another Contact Improv jam today and felt right at home with people that in another life were certainly Obies.

After a week, I feel like I've lived here for several, so I'm looking forward to continuing to settle in. Hope all is well where this finds you.