time flies

mid-december. already? wtf? i don't understand. it seems like just yesterday it was thanksgiving. it feels like only weeks ago i was sitting in the park having drinks with my friends. clearly not (it's bloody cold out) but it feels like it, doesn't it?

time is strange. it's both completely abstract and fully precise all at once. it has measurable units - 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour, etc etc. and yet it feels, most of the time, like those units are absolutely immeasurable - hours that drag for days, days that never end.

people say that time flies when you're having fun. but time flies, well, all the time. not just when i'm having fun. time flies when i have deadlines. time flies when i need it to slow down. time flies when i do nothing at all. and time flies when i'm just too busy to notice.

it's funny how your perception can change it all. when you're at work/in school, time can't move fast enough. clocks seem to tick backwards, days drag on, you look up at the clock and think "it's only 2pm? ugh". but then you have weekends/holidays and somehow time just slips through your fingers. you look at the clock and think "it's already 2pm? ugh." but what's different? nothing, technically. but everything, really.

i'm not sure if it's true that time seems to pass more quickly as you get older but it kind of feels like it. (though at this rate i think my 90s will just be a blur!). this year feels like it just disappeared. it seems like only yesterday i was getting into my camper van to drive around australia when in fact it was a full year ago (eep!). it feels like i just moved back to montreal a few months ago when in fact i've been here since feb. it feels like i moved into my apartment a few weeks ago when in fact it's been 9 months (and still no housewarming party...). and it seems like only yesterday...

i sit here typing and thinking about things i'd planned to do today/this week/this month and wonder why i've not managed any of them. i'm looking at the shipping date for the website i'm ordering christmas gifts from hoping that i'll make the cut to guarantee delivery before the 24th, wondering how it's possible that it's december 13th already.

and i think about how i had meant to write this blog post 2 weeks ago but never got around to it because i didn't. have. time.
xo

let it snow

i went to bed last night a bit surprised at the weather forecast for today: flurries. *pfffft* no way! it didn't seem that cold, it didn't seem that cloudy and frankly, it seemed a bit too early. i woke this morning looking out at a grey sky laughing to myself that the weather guy got it wrong. again. but my bed is on the floor and i look up out the window when i'm lying there. when i finally sat up (a few groggy minutes later) i sighed and thought "well, i guess i'm taking the metro today".

snow! wonderful, white fluffy snow. i know i will be eating my words in a few months (weeks?) because i'll be so over snow and cold and canadian winter but for now, i'm going to appreciate it. there is something particularly magical about the first snowfall. the first real snowfall. snow that stays more then a few hours. snow that coats the city in pure, pristine whiteness. snow that muffles all the sounds but crunches under your feet. snowflakes that get caught up in your lashes and on the hair peeking out your tuque. snow that makes you wish you were still 12yrs old and had snow days (not that you ever got them such a small amount of snow, but whatever). snow that makes you realize winter is here but you know, you don't actually hate it. yet.

i looked out my window this morning and saw all the naked trees gratefully accepting a winter coating of fluff to make them feel special again. i saw the dead-looking lawns become sparkling white squares. i went outside and walked by (on) frozen puddles (who can resist cracking that ice? no one! no one i say!) i saw other folk bundled up in their scarves and mitts.  i felt my cheeks get rosy. i felt like i got to experience the first snowfall for the first time again. and it was lovely.

when i moved back to montreal in feb, i felt kind of ripped off. i left the balmy gold coast of australia and was thrown in to the worst winter storm of the season. i didn't get a chance to really appreciate winter. i froze, i cursed and i was downright upset. i couldn't go enjoy all my favourite snowsports (there was some issue of a stress fracture in my foot...). there was grey, dirty slush everywhere. i just wanted winter to end and spring to get going. but now it feels different. it feels like winter is slowly creeping up on me, step by step (ooh baby...), presenting itself to me and asking for my permission to be accepted. and so far, i approve.

hello winter. long time no see.
xo

risky business

i am not a risk taker. well, i may take risks occasionally but they're usually well-calculated, thought about risks. risks i'm most likely going to win/enjoy/survive. i'm not interested in jumping off a bridge with an elastic tied to my feet. i'm not that stoked about the idea of racing down rapids in a blown-up vessel (though jumping out of a plane does sound kind of cool...). so i never thought that i would be risking my life every day. but i do (at least on weekdays).  you see, i ride my bike. in montreal.

don't be so dramatic you say? well, you've clearly never tried to ride a bike in this city. i ride my bike to work every day, unless it's pouring when i wake up. i'll even tough out a light misting of rain on my way to work if i have to;  i don't mind getting wet on my way home (which i've done. more than a few times). cycling to/from work clears my head and allows me to arrive at work ready to start my day (read: awake) or ready to end it when i get home (read: letting go of work as i ride). i will keep doing so until i can't because of winter weather conditions.

the challenge with riding your bike in montreal is just that: riding your bike in montreal. drivers here are amongst the worst in the world (in my humble opinion...) and roads are atrocious at best. the combination makes for interesting cycling conditions. don't be fooled by the "montreal has hundreds of kms of bike paths" spiel they love to rhyme off. those paths are mostly along waterfront or in parks. there aren't that many safe places to ride, unless you live and work in the few city blocks that make up downtown "bike path region". i, unfortunately, do not.

every day it's the same thing. i get on my bike and start peddling. i'm a safe rider- helmet, lights, bright clothes. i signal when i'm going to turn. i don't ride the wrong way on one-ways. i don't ride on sidewalks. i wait at lights. the only "road sins" i commit are coasting through 4-way stops (but drivers do too, so i feel less guilty) and turning right on a red when it's safe (which, to be honest, isn't that often). so i get particularly irate with drivers who honk at me because (god forbid) they have to slow down for 5 seconds. or at drivers who zip past me only to slow down and cut me off to turn right, causing me to have a significant amount of near accidents this summer. or drivers who curse at me because i'm not "over far enough" in the right lane.

the thing is, the roads, whilst horrendous to drive on are downright treacherous to ride on. there are potholes that can eat my bike, cracks that would love to catch my wheel and wavy pavement at a variety of intersection that make me wonder when montreal had tectonic plates shift directly underneath it. grates and sewers always in the far right of the road, exactly where i'm supposed to ride my two-wheeled vehicle. so you know, if i feel the need to be a bit further over, deal with it. just deal with it.

i don't think i'll have to deal with it for much longer though. with the temperature steadily dropping and the roads starting to be frosty/slick in the mornings, i think my somewhat calculated risk is slowly becoming a much risker venture. it's perhaps time to put the bike away for winter *tear*

i wonder it's possible to cross-country ski to work...
xo

construction junction

there's a saying that in canada, we only have 2 seasons: winter and construction. this couldn't be more true than in montreal.

i have the ability to avoid using my car 95% of the time. i can ride my bike to work in the same amount of time (or take the metro in winter). everything i need in the city is easily accessible on foot, by metro or on bixi. but every now and again i get stuck.

today, for example. i had a dentist appointment (to my great joy). unfortunately for me, my dentist is neither in a convenient location to my house, nor to my job. in fact, it's in the exact opposite direction from work. as such, getting to the appointment in the morning before i head to work requires a car because there is no do-able way to get to work from this location in the time allotted. so it was with mild hesitation that i started the car this morning and drove off.

one of the things i find most challenging about driving in this city (other then the actual drivers, of course) is the massive amount of construction occurring at all times. it is ridiculous. truly. to be fair, the city is in such a state of disrepair that there needs to be massive amounts of construction but it still feels excessive.

as i drove to the dentist, i was backed up in traffic (at 7:30am mind you) at a variety of streets because of the constructions signs everywhere. i say signs because i never really see the construction crews in the city. (part of me thinks it's just a conspiracy thing- they put the signs up so we think they're working but in actual fact they're not.). when i left the appointment i had to take the 40 - possibly the worst highway around. there is construction on every major interchange, which is a problem because well, there's construction on every major interchange. it doesn't make for a "smooth flow" of traffic i'll say. instead i find myself bumper to bumper at all times of day (and i mean that literally. i've been stuck in traffic jams at 6am, 11am, 8pm and midnight, weekdays and weekends). this is mostly because 4 lanes turn into 1 and turn offs that used to exist are blocked but is made worse by the fact that 1- the exits that are blocked only get announced as your pulling up to them and 2- i live in montreal and we all know what drivers are like here (yes, i said it).

the thing i find truly amazing is how construction crews can be working on these areas for so long. the exit to my house from the 40 (which happens to be the major interchange to a north-south highway) has been completely fucked for months (and months and months...). i feel confident in saying that construction started significantly before i moved to montreal and it's nowhere near being completed. nowhere. at all. and the traffic it causes backs up for a few kilometers at all times of day.

or -exhibit b-  the interchange for the 20 and the 40. if you want to leave montreal and head west, good luck to you. there are 2 ways out of the city and both of them cause significant headaches and traffic delays....because they merge into one highway and at that exact, precise location, construction has been happening for a solid 2 years and is planned for another 2 (which means 4).  part of me feels like quebec just wants to say "who goes to ontario anyhow? damn anglos" and be done with it but knowing that a large part of their tourism comes from the west means they have to suck it up and fix it. so they'll do it. but they won't like it. and neither will you.

what i really don't understand though is why, given the state of the roads (read: dire) and the limited time of year to work (read: minimal), are there not road crews working 'round the clock and on weekends? it doesn't seem that hard. less interruption to traffic if you work at night, more ability to get shit done. seems obvious to me. and it seems to work like that in most other areas of the world that have limited season. but that's just it isn't it? it works in other areas of the world, so it must be done differently in quebec (more on that some other time...)

all this to say that montreal is in a perpetual state of construction that has no end in sight. just orange cones as far as the eye can see...
xo

fall

the thing i missed the most when i leaved overseas was the change in seasons. i know i've said this before and i'm sure i'll say it again. but i think we take for granted the magic of the seasons.

in perth, seasons were as follows: less hot, hot, super hot and unbearably hot. sure, it was colder in fall but it's a loose term. "colder" from summer is weather in the 20's, with a cooler wind. there weren't really any leaves changing colour or falling off the trees (in fact, they mostly started to thrive because it was less hot). this always made me sad because fall is my favourite season. truly.

yes, all of the seasons have their special thing but to me, there's nothing quite like fall. when it's cold enough to pull out scarves and jackets but sunny enough to sit outside at the cafe. when it's still light enough in the evening to stay outside (though now that the clocks have changed, it's dark...). when the apples taste better, fresh picked from the tree, and the market is full of local produce coming to harvest. i just think it's the best.

so you can imagine how happy i was when i woke in late september and noticed one random (possibly lonely) tree whose leaves had changed from the green of its neighbours to the fiery orange of fall. i was pretty stoked (i may have squealed). slowly the other trees joined in and soon i was looking out my window at the most spectacularly coloured leaves glittering in the sun.

as we get into november the leaves are falling from the trees, peppering the ground below. i'm sure my neighbours don't love the raking that they have to do, but i sure love walking/shuffling through the dried leaves. i love hearing them crunch under my feet. and i love the smell. it seems weird to say "rotting leaves smell awesome" but as most people will attest, they do. they really, really do.

we've had the most amazing weather in the past few weeks, very un-late fall in this area of the world actually. incredibly sunny, somewhat mild days without rain. so most montrealers (myself included) are out and about in droves. the trails of mont royal were loaded with people today, the cafes were jammed with folks sipping coffee in the sun. happy city-goers squeezing every last bit out of the sunny days before winter comes knocking.

which won't be too long from now i'm sure. the nights are getting colder. the chimneys have been fired up (no pun intended) and frost is becoming a daily fixture in the mornings. some trees are naked already, others on their way. mittens and tuques are being worn regularly. and of course, the clocks have changed, which means it's dark at 5pm.

but i look beyond all that and try not to worry about winter yet. i just look out the window and see the colourful leaves glittering in the sun and feel happy to be home.
xo

halloween

as i sit here munching on a mini- mr big bar (is that an oxymoron?), i got to thinking about halloween. i don't much like halloween really. it seems to me that it's a day for men to dress like women and women to dress like whores. and for kids to get fat. perhaps i've grown cynical because i know i loved it when i was a kid (is there a kid who doesn't love it? i mean, free candy) but it just seems like such an unusual "holiday".

with its roots in paganism, then christianity (and really, don't all holidays have these roots), the tradition of halloween has really been bastardized over the years. in times past, people dressed up as spirits and ghouls so they could protect their souls and "trick the spirits" who visited the earth on october 31st. now people dress up as whatever they can dream up to go and snag free candy.

i'm not really sure why i don't like halloween anymore. it could be the mortal fear i had of clowns as a child, but i doubt it. i loved halloween as a kid. i loved dressing up in a (hand-me down) costume, grabbing my pillow case and running out the door to get treats from my neighbours. i loved sitting on the floor with my siblings (territory marked out by bags of chips) and swapping things i didn't like (thank god for siblings!). i remember watching garfield halloween and charlie brown's great pumpkin. i listened to thriller. you know the drill. 

but as i got older, halloween lost its magic. boys started dressing like girls. girls started dressing sluttier, more concerned about looking hot than having a great costume (i challenge you to go to a shop and scan the lady-costumes. they will almost all have names like "sexy cat" and "hot cop"). 

i've tried to pin down the reason behind it. maybe i'm just overwhelmed by it all. i find the notion of choosing a costume to be a bit much (especially as my options would be pretty limited...sexy cat perhaps?). i need boundaries, limits. i need themes. halloween is a bit too laissez-faire for me. a bit vague. 

i suppose it's also possible that i just don't like the rest of things associated to halloween. i hate being scared. i really do. my imagination is far too active to watch scary movies because for the next week/month it's all i can think about (i can still see that damn mask from Scream taunting me...). i'm not much of a spider fan. and bats -whilst super handy for eliminating insects- are not the kind of creatures i like having around on a regular basis. no, me and halloween don't really get along. 

except for pumpkins. the one thing i love about halloween is pumpkins. there's nothing quite like laying out the newspaper on the floor, and cleaning the guts out of your pumpkin before carving a clever little face onto it and lighting it up with a candle. and once the jack o'lantern has been used for the night, you can turn him into a lovely soup or other such tasty meal. 

but if i really think about it, i feel like my deep seeded dislike for halloween really comes down to a comment my friend made recently: "when did halloween become a thing in australia?" she asked. her answer was when the marketing folks decided it should be so. i laughed and said that this is why it's a big thing in north america too. i can picture snack food company executives licking their lips at the idea of a holiday that encourages people to dish out free candy to kids. and other companies loving the idea of people spending money on all the crap that goes with it. yes, i realize all north american "holidays" are manufactured by the same companies, but it doesn't make it right. it really doesn't. 

don't worry, i'm not all cynicism about halloween. i even went and bought a large box of mini chocolate bars for my neighbours kids, on the off chance that they wanted to knock on my door tonight. not that it really did any good, as j and i both got home far too late to dish out treats. so now i have a large box of bite sized sweets just waiting to be eaten. 

i suppose i'll just go grab another mini-mr.big and be happy that there are some good things about halloween...

xo

frenchies

i am french canadian. i was raised bilingually by my parents and lived in a bilingual town. my first words were french. my school was french. i went to french church. my friends were bilingual. my holidays and celebrations are french canadian. i have a last name that most english-only speakers can't pronounce. i celebrate things like la ste-catherine and la st jean baptiste. christmas seems wrong when it's in english. you get my point.

when i was 18, i moved away from home to a more anglophone region of canada (nova scotia). i had to deal with re-learning things like chemistry and anatomy in english and having people point out my "inconsistencies" in english because i used french syntax and french-isms when i spoke english. things i'd never noticed before. but then all of my friends did it too.

slowly, steadily english took over. i only spoke french with friends back home and to my dad. i still read french books but other things were hard to come by. then i moved to the netherlands. then to southern ontario. then to australia. slowly, steadily improving my english, losing all indications of french. but never my french-canadian heritage and culture.

and now i'm in quebec.

when i first moved here, i was horrified by my french. i could speak properly (sort of) but i lost the ability to chit chat with friends. i struggled to discuss physio in french. i was embarrassed. my friends told me to not be so hard on myself. i'd been living away from french language and culture for over 12 years and i studied (all things relevant) in english.

slowly, steadily it came back. it took longer then i'd hoped because i work in english, i'm married to an english-speaking east coaster and i live in montreal, where english and spanish are just as prominent. i'm generally confident with it and feel like i've regained the piece of my life that was missing in the past.

and then i remember (or is it reminded?) that i live in quebec.

you see, the quebecois (for the most part) don't seem to know that there exists a french-canada outside of the province (which is ironic because they would never call themselves french-canada. rather quebec). when i meet new people (new, i'll point out. not friends) i get one of the 2 following statements.

the first:  (in the most patronizing tone you can imagine) "where did you learn your cute little french?" (said in french). i used to be surprised at the question, now i'm just annoyed. my answer is "i'm from ontario". they reply "yes, but why do you know french? it's quite good you know (gasp)". again "i'm from ontario. a town about 25 mins from the border". "uhm hmm. i don't understand. are your parents quebecois?" "no, no they're not. my father is french. french-ontarian. my mom is english". they look perplexed; how can this be?

the second (and let me say, this one pisses me off more then anything): me chatting for a minute. them, interrupting me to boldly say something along the lines of "are you an anglophone?" ("no, i'm bilingual") or "...and yet your name is very french" ("ya. i know"), implying that my french sucks (and my friends wonder why i lose confidence). keep in mind that for the most part, i don't really know the people who say these things to me. they're strangers who feel the need to point out that my french is different than - and therefore not as good as- theirs.

i don't know if i can adequately explain how irritating it is to have someone say either one of those things to me on repeated occasions. the first is ignorant (there are some 2.5 million people who speak french as a first language in the rest of canada. not including the bilingual folk out there). the second is rude. assuming that the way you speak a language is the the only way it's meant to be spoken is very arrogant (should i even mention what my france-french friends think of quebec-french?).

language is amazing in that it can be so adaptable and fluid with so many dialects and local expressions. it's all part of its richness. when someone uses different words or slang, it doesn't mean it's wrong. it's just different.

and yes, my french is different than theirs. but you know what? that's ok. i don't want my accent to be a quebec accent because i'm not from quebec. i'm from ontario.

and i am french canadian.
xo

naked

i've been a slacker. i admit that at the end of the day, i have not been motivated to come home and sit at our computer and type. not just on the blog, but on facebook, twitter and even plain ol' email. perhaps it's because all i want to do at the end of the day is sit on the couch and think of nothing. or perhaps it's because the stool in front of the computer is dreadfully uncomfortable. either way, nothing has been happening.  not that things haven't been "happening" but they're just not ending up on screen.

so here i am. back at it. i swear.

what motivated me to get back on the blogging? well, whilst out for a walk with j, i was regaling him with a situation at the gym. we laughed and then i thought "hmmm. good blog fodder? i think so!". the spark has been re-ignited. so, what was this incident you ask? nakedness. obviously.

i go to a swanky gym. the kind of gym that i'm surprised they let me into because i show up in jogging pants and sneakers with my hair in a ponytail instead of skin tight lulu pants and heels with makeup on. but i suppose we're paying, so they're cool with us. in this fancy gym of mine, there is a wonderful locker room filled with amenities galore. sauna, spa, steam room, relaxation room, showers, lockers and lots of space to sit in front of mirrors and prepare yourself for the day (using the spa products, of course). and here in lies the problem.

i'm not sure why it happens or what inspires these ladies to be so blazé, but they just plunk down in front of these mirrors in the buff. why i ask, why? don't get me wrong, i'm all for nudity (really i am)... in the appropriate places. sure, i suppose a gym locker room is an "appropriate place". but let me ask you this: what is the point of sitting naked when you're styling your hair or doing your makeup? could you not just wrap the towel around yourself instead of sitting on it? i just don't get it. sure, in the sauna. sure, in the steam room. sure when you're changing. but sitting for 30 minutes, doing your thing in the nude. i'm sorry ladies, that just seems gratuitous.

what brought forth the discussion today though was the 65 year old lady with 20 year old breasts (that her ex-husband probably paid for... am i stereotyping?). i'm not sure there is a much more disturbing vision as an older lady, wrinkled and tanned (obviously) with incredibly perky breasts. it's just not right. it's even less right when she's sitting in front of the mirror in all her perky nakedness, styling her long blonde hair (and trying to relive her glory days?)

j was asking me if i thought this was a quebec thing, given that "they're more european" (his words, not mine) because the men's locker room was just as bad.  i laughed but couldn't answer. i've never been to a gym like this before, so i'm not sure. but it's possible i guess.  the french-canadians have a much more laissez-fair attitude to nudity and all things related. but i'm french canadian. and i really don't have an issue with nudity. but sometimes, enough is enough.

i'm just glad i don't use the men's locker room.
xo

the sky is falling

imagine this: you're driving along, minding your own business when a large chunk of an overpass falls in front of you, narrowly missing your car. fact- this happened. more then once. fact- it doesn't always miss your car.

in 2006, the Laval overpass collapsed, killing 5 people. clearly this is a tragedy. how can roads get bad enough that they can collapse? apparently some structural engineers were wondering the same thing and launched an inquiry into the overpass collapse. they then thought "hmm. well if one overpass is crumbling, maybe we should look at all of the overpasses and bridges in the area?". clever engineers.

as it turns out, all of them are in a state of disrepair. the 2006 incident was the first of many similar occurrences (and let's be honest, one is too many in this case)  - the most recent happened a few weeks ago on the Ville-Marie tunnel. but it's not just the overpasses. it's also the bridges. and this, my friends, is a major concern when the city of montreal happens to be an island and the only way on/off is via bridge.

the pont champlain is canada's busiest bridge, which was news to me. it is all but crumbling. on weekends it's down to one lane in only one direction at a time so workers can do their job and try to repair it. but the other bridges heading to the south island aren't much better, filled with potholes and riddled with a patchwork of pavement which makes you feel like you're driving on cobblestone, which isn't very comforting when you're suspended over a large body of water.

but it's not only pieces falling from the top that are concerning.

not more then 2 weeks ago, i saw a photo (on the cbc) of a city bus stuck in hole on the street. turns out, the street just gave way and the bus sank (honestly). no one was hurt (except montreal's pride i suppose). the same day i saw a photo of a cement truck in the same situation. 2 vehicles sinking into the streets because of the crappy infrastructure underneath them not being taken care of for years?! mind boggling. do i feel confident that these will be the last? no. no i do not. i have visions of montreal becoming the lost city of atlantis. i really do.

what astounds me more then anything is that montreal just doesn't seem to get it. they've just built a new toll bridge to laval, estimating that a few thousand people would sign up to use it regularly. before it had even opened, the numbers were near 35 000 drivers. who did the surveying before they build the bridge and how did they get the numbers so wrong? way to look towards the future boys.

they have road crews out all summer (except during their 2 week "mandatory holiday". don't even get me started...) but they never seem to do anything (do they ever?). the entire city has been crumbling for years and they're only now starting to worry about it. a report showed that there's been poor maintenance for the past 70 years (70 years!). which frankly seems amazing because quebec taxes the shit out of you, so you'd like to expect better roads (or better public transport to have less people driving all the time, but i digress). montreal tries to blame the drastic weather changes and intensity of winter here, but then i think montreal forgets that it's in canada and that the argument isn't valid. all canadian cities deal with winter climate, salt and ice. and yet, as far as i know, most canadian cities have roads that you can drive on without risk of sinking...

but instead of actually fixing the roads properly, they just cover the holes and move on. apparently they will be spending some 3.9 billion dollars on the roads this year, fixing some 2000km and 875 structures. i don't know about you, but i don't find these numbers reassuring. they just remind me of how crappy the roads are here. they remind me why i try not to drive (not that my bike is any safer).

and, quite frankly, they're pushing me to invest in a boat.
xo

rainy ride

there's nothing quite like riding your bike home from work in the rain. correction, in the deluge. add in a bit of hail, some lightning and strong winds and you'd have my ride home from work today.

you see, the weatherman has screwed me lately. i suppose that it might be incredibly challenging to accurately predict the weather. but mostly i think that if we can track people using GPS and have satellites that can take photos of distant galaxies, that maybe (just maybe!) we'd be able to have accurate estimates of weather patterns. but no! it seems to be the great human mystery.

over the past few months, i have checked the weather in the morning and made my plan to ride to work based on what might happen that day. inevitably, the days i decided not to ride my bike because it was suggested that rain was in the forecast that day were the days it stayed dry as can be. i get frustrated when i take public transit in summer (it's so nice out!), so i started to get pissed off. and then i decided to forgo the meteorologists advice and ride my bike regardless. so far, i've been ok.

until today. i was soaking wet before i'd finished unlocking my bike. but generally, after that initial "ugh, i hate being wet" thought, i can move on. i'm already wet, who care if it takes me 30 mins to get home. so i started peddling. then the wind picked up. then the hail started (albeit small, it stings more then i'd expected). i couldn't really see at some points because the rain was dripping through my helmet down my face or was actually flying directly into my eyes. i waved with a knowing smile of "man this sucks" to any of my fellow cyclists on the road (which wasn't a large number really).

and then i got honked at. by a damn driver in his super dry car. because i was taking too much room in the lane he was in and he had to *gasp* wait 10 seconds to pass me. the reason i was taking too much room? the side of the road nearest to the sidewalk (where i generally ride) was inundated with water up to my pedals. not my ideal riding situation. i threw my hand up, flipped him the bird and got on with it.

i pulled up to my apartment building just as the rain was dying down (naturally), dripping and cold. i looked at the man sitting in the lobby, expecting him to help me by opening the door so i could pull my soggy self and my bike inside. but no, he just sat there. so i started fumbling with shivering hands (drip drip) into my bike bag (drip drip), searching for my purse (drip drip) until i found my keys (drip drip). still no movement (drip drip). i clumsily unlocked the door (drip drip) and managed to manoeuvre my bike inside (drip drip) while scowling quite heavily at the man (drip drip drip) who sat on his lazy ass and watched me struggle (drip drip drip). after i put my bike away (drip drip), i came back through the lobby (drip drip) to the elevator (drip drip), because i wasn't risking the stairs dripping wet in flip flops- an accident waiting to happen to me really. i was pretty peeved with the man. who doesn't offer to help? jerk.

i walked into my apartment generally frustrated by the jerk-ness of some people and irritated by the clinginess of my sopping clothes. i think i'll probably leave my bike at home tomorrow.
xo

out of the closet

my name is michelle. and i (might be) a shopaholic. 

no, that can't be right. i'm not. in fact, i know i'm not. i can talk myself out of anything (thanks mom...). i regularly go to stores and leave with nothing at all. i can watch other people spend money on things and not feel the need to do the same. i can look at something and honestly say "i think i can wait til this goes on sale" or "i don't really need this". i am confident that i am neither a shopaholic, nor a shopaholic in denial. and yet, somehow, my closet is exploding.

i finally decided to tackle the piles of clothes that arrived on my doorstep a few weeks ago. long missed but not forgotten. no longer did i have to "suffer", wearing the same 8 tops and 2 pants that i bought when the weather got hot. no longer would i have to whinge about not having the appropriate attire for an event. only my sneakers are still missing (claimed by the floods). which, to be honest, pains me more then i'd like to admit.

so you can imagine my surprise when i realized that my clothes wouldn't fit in the closet. the entire closet. the closet that my oh-so-wonderful man vacated his 1/2 of tonight so i could have more room. (the closet that is significantly smaller then the one i had in perth...). and it still doesn't work. i need a divider to break it all up and shelf units that hang (amongst other things).  maybe i need a walk in closet with all the trimmings...mental note. i look at the piles of clothes left over, sitting sadly in the corner of our room (on the floor), waiting to be sorted and given a bit of love and attention again, and i feel awful. not awful about the actual fact that my clothes is sitting on the ground in piles but about the fact that i have so much stuff in the first place.

but here's the thing: i don't know how it came to be. i like to shop, of course. i don't know many girls who don't. but i don't go crazy. i am surprisingly practical. i've moved every few years since i was 18 and go through a ruthless sorting when i pack/unpack. and, to top it all off, i go through my closet every few months and get rid of things i don't wear anymore - a habit i've retained since childhood, when my mom made us do this at the start of every season so that we could see what we "really needed" for that season/school year (and so hand-me-downs were used before new clothes were purchased). it's a skill i am glad i have (and one i think local charity shops appreciate as well).

and yet, the evidence is there. i have too many things. way too many things. things of all colours, sizes, shapes, cuts and materials. things for warm days, things for cold days and things for every day in between. things for sports. things for lounging. things for sleeping. things for movie night. things for parties. things for special events. things things things! 

the worst part is, i don't know what to be more embarrassed about. the fact that i have too many things, or that fact that i feel like i'm still missing some *sigh*. john thinks it's both funny and sad. he doesn't understand how could i have this much stuff and still feel like i don't have enough. the question i can't answer and the answer that men will never understand. 

i suppose i'll just have to go through it all, sort it out, decide what i really need and what should just go. or maybe i should just get a bigger closet...

xo

NYC

for some reason, i'd really like to sing "you down with NYC (yeah you know me), you down with NYC (yeah you know me)". can't explain it. just feel like it.

about 10 days ago, i packed a small suitcase and ventured to the big apple to visit my sister, who has been living in brooklyn for some 3 years now. as i was previously situated 1/2 way around the world, visiting wasn't so easy. but now it's only a short, 1.5hr flight away. how fun!

my sister happens to be a pediatric resident at the moment. which loosely translates to not having any free time. and unfortunately for me, she had to work for 2 days of the 3.5 that i had in town. but not to worry, i managed to make the most of it.

thursday morning i made my way through the nyc subway system to canal st and broadway. canal street reminded me of bali a bit (oddly enough)- dozens of little stalls that people on the street are trying to lure you into, full of useless crap and souvenirs no one actually wants. i wasn't that excited about it, so my exploration of canal street lasted all of 10 mins. and then i just started walking.

i walked up broadway, from canal street to rockafellar centre (which, if you don't know, is some 40 city blocks). i stopped to poke my head into some shops and grab a quick bite to eat, but otherwise i just kept walking. i roamed by a variety of nyc landmarks: grand central station, the ny library, the flatiron building, radio city and the empire state building. i'd been told (by my sister) that i should consider doing the "top of the rock" tour instead of the empire state building (which is more expensive and takes longer to get into), so i did. i paid my fee and waited for the elevator to take me to the top of rockafellar centre (or 30rock, for you nerdy fans like me). what a great view! you can look out onto the city and see the empire state building, central park and just about everything else you'd like to see. i sat there for a while, contemplating the skyline (but mostly resting my weary feet) before i made my way home.

my sister joined me that evening for a drink on a sweet rooftop terrace in manhattan, where the drinks were pricey, the food was tasty and the view was worth every cent: a glowing empire state building towering above us and the rest of the city glimmering around it.

the next day was another solo adventure day, so i decided to roam around different areas. i still walked for longer then i can remember doing in yonks (save the day before, of course) and took in greenwich village (or just, "the village" as it's known to locals), the west village and soho before i dashed up to time square. i'd hoped to catch a cheap show but as it turns out, there's no such thing in new york. i did sign up for a few lotteries at the theatre box offices (which is exactly what it sounds like: put your name in a hat and wait around a while for them to draw names for cheap seats. i never won. *sigh*). it was about then that i realized my poor little feet were aching pretty badly, so i returned home.

saturday was another glorious day in the city. after running around prospect park (a nifty park in brooklyn) i ventured the the farmers market before finding a mani-pedi place. i was slightly disturbed by the 7yr olds getting pedicures next to me (with mom and dad in tow, of course) but i decided i didn't care enough to look up from my trashy magazines. i was then informed that this was a pretty typical thing in brooklyn. i can't wait for these kids to get older...

then i found my weary sister (coming off her 24hr shift) and hit up manhattan again, where we strolled through central park, which is just massive (100 city blocks i think i read). it's so strange to walk through a park and feel like you've been there before - because you've seen it so many times in movies and tv shows- when in fact, you've never set foot in the place prior to that moment. we then ventured to f.a.o. schwartz, because who doesn't want to try the floor-piano (if you don't know what i mean, you're too young), which, as it turns out, has a line-up and a time limit (i didn't bother waiting). i did see a 20 000$ barbie foosball table (i can't seem to spell that right now. it looks wrong) and nearly waited to get my photo taken with spiderman but it was too expensive.

at the end of the day, we managed to get tickets to zarkana (cirque's newest production) for cheap (ish) thanks to a friendly box-office guy. the show was amazing. a bit weird (aren't they all?) but amazing.

the next morning found me getting ready to leave, sadly. i enjoyed new york. the sights, the sounds (not the smells so much) and of course, visiting my sister. next time i won't have to walk my feet to the bone or feel the need to take it all in. but really, the trip was great. too short of course, but isn't that always the way with holidays?

until next time nyc. until next time.
xo

christmas in july

a tip for the future: if it ever happens that you are living in australia and make a sudden, last-minute, life-changing decision to move home in the middle of february, you should really, really think about what you take with you.

here's the thing: in late january when we decided to move home, i wasn't really thinking straight. i was somewhat exhilarated, somewhat terrified. i was emotional and apparently stressed, though i didn't really think it at the time. i suppose, in fact, that i just wasn't thinking straight. so when i was packing my bag- a MEC duffle/hockey bag- all i could think about was how cold montreal would be. so i packed whatever warm things i had (which, it turns out, wasn't actually that much), added some workout clothes, pj's and underthings...and not much else. i had only really planned to be without my clothes for a few weeks, a month or 2 at best. i was wrong. so terribly, terribly wrong.

perhaps it was our own fault, going with a cheaper company. but when we moved to australia from hamilton, it only took our things about 2.5 months to arrive. in fact, only days after we settled in perth did we get a phone call asking us to clear customs. well- not so this time! i have been back in canada since feb 1st and we finally got out things. today! (today!) 6 months later. which, i might point out, is not so convenient when you packed for a month. in feb. in canada.

how a shipment from australia can take 5.5 months to get from australia to montreal is beyond me. did someone row it across the pacific, then cycle across the country with it? the most  frustrating component was that the moving company just didn't seem to care. such little information about timelines and location of our stuff. at one point they couldn't exactly tell us where things were, just that they were in the country. nor could they explain why they hadn't been delivered yet. unfortunately for us (who were very keen to berate someone about it all) the montreal-end of the company was surprisingly helpful and pleasant to deal with (damn them!)

it's not like we had a lot of stuff either (perhaps this was the bigger fault) because the flooding in queensland decided to take what was ours and do with it what it pleased (which as it turns out, was destroy it...) but those 8 boxes were really missing in my life. mostly because i had no clothes (packing in feb doesn't bode well when may hits, and even less so when july comes around). john has had to put up with my whinging- "where's our stuff?" "i just want my stuff", "why can't we have our stuff?" over and over again, so i expect that he is just as happy (if not happier) then me to see it here now.

after clearing canadian customs yesterday, we awoke to our buzzer ringing at 7:15 this morning. delivery! it was like christmas morning. i jumped out of bed, started squealing a bit and jumped all around the house. "my things! my things" (omg, it's just what i wanted! how did you know?). i bypassed the gym this morning, far to excited to start ripping open some boxes, sifting through the bags and sorting my things.

and so now i am happy. i leave for NYC tomorrow evening and have things to put in my bag that aren't long sleeved and wooly. i have my sweet road bike sitting (dismantled) in my living room, just begging for me take it for a spin. i have my camping gear in the storage locker eager to get outside. and, most importantly, i have my sanity.

merry christmas y'all
xo

canada day

july 1st. canada day. the day when canadians don their red and white and flock to the nearest centre for fireworks, entertainment and drinks (not necessarily in that order...). a day where most people celebrate all things canadian. unless you're in quebec. when it is city-wide moving day (take that, canada).

canada day celebrates the day when 3 british colonies joined to form a single country. nova scotia, new brunswick and the province of canada (since then known as ontario and quebec) united to become a country in their own right, whilst remaining in the british empire. the day was originally known as dominion day (according to wiki) and didn't change its name until 1982- the year that the constitution act patriated the canadian constitution and surrendered british parliament rights on the country. doesn't really seem that long ago actually. a bit odd.

cities big and small host their own canada day celebrations. most will have a fireworks display. many will have music and entertainment. ottawa becomes the very epicentre of  canada (yes, i realize it's the capital) and some hundreds of thousands of people will flock to parliament hill. they watch canadian bands sing canadian music, eat beavertails and poutine, drink apple cider and wash it all down with some maple syrup while a canadian host entertains them until canadian fireworks are launched. they put up with crowds of immeasurable size, wait in lines that are ridiculously long and pay exorbitant prices for food and drinks that normally cost only a fraction. and they have a damn good time doing it.

i've only been to ottawa twice for canada day. to be honest, i have no intention of going back. i hate crowds. and this is like the mother of all crowds. *shiver*

montreal did well with its canada day celebration. surprisingly. with la st jean only a week before and the general lack of nationalism (towards canada. plenty for quebec...) i was surprised to see the list of events happening around the city. not only was the old port bustling with things to do and fireworks to launch, but other parts of the city were celebrating as well. the jazz festival played through the day (and week, actually) and people could generally be entertained. (you could even shop, because most stores were business-as-usual on friday. that seemed strange to me because for the most part, on public holidays, you can do sweet fuck all because everything is closed).

many montrealers, however, snub canada day. not necessarily on purpose either. you see, quebec (or at least montreal) has this fun little tradition of making july 1st the day that 95% of leases get renewed. ie, moving day. people take advantage of the day off work and move house. i personally see it as a bit of a slap in the face of the country. a so-called "take that canada. we are so not into your special day that we are even choosing to move (!) rather then celebrate". as such, getting around the city on july 1st can be a bit tricky; trucks everywhere, cones on the street blocking space for moving trucks, cars filled with junk driving slowly and irate, sweaty folk blocking the sidewalk with their wares. good times. fun times.

luckily, we signed our lease in march. so we will avoid the communal moving day for the next few years at least. instead we meandered down to the jazzfest, took in some free music and had a damn good time.

happy birthday canada.
xo

the long drive home

i hate driving. i really do. if i can walk, ride my bike or use public transit, i will. i try to avoid using my car at all costs- especially now that i live in montreal. unfortunately, circumstances led me to drive to work this morning. this in itself wasn't a major issue. it was the drive home that really cemented my dislike for cars, drivers and montreal traffic in general.

the drive home tonight took me some 50 minutes. it usually takes 20 (it takes 30 on my bike). the bumper to bumper drive was made worse by the fact that, for the most part, montreal drivers are a bunch of wankers. not once but twice on this particular drive was i honked at for not gridlocking. uh, hello- why would i enter the intersection when none of the cars are moving? i was honked at. then honked at again. then the car behind me snuck into the lane next to me (causing much more honking), slowed down with the window rolled down and gave me "the staredown". then i watched as they stopped 1/2 a car length ahead of me. good thing they got so angry. it really helped them on their commute. jerks!

i don't understand why people feel the need to do the slow drive-by. all it does is piss me off. and then there are 2 angry people on the road. it's not like i was doing something wrong. i was *not* causing gridlock. which, by the way, happens to be illegal (and comes with a decent fine). instead i got to watch people do just that and block traffic in all directions...which only added to the slowness of the commute. their self-righteousness drives me crazy. it's as though they think they're the only ones trying to get somewhere in a hurry, that they're the only ones who deserve to get home sooner then everyone else. that they, and only they, are wishing to be anywhere but their car.

i for one, was desperately missing my bike.
xo

la st jean baptiste

i have memories from my childhood, filled with street parties, bbq, dressing up in red-white-and-blue and trying streamers on my trike before parading down the street with my siblings and friends. it was a celebration of my french canadian heritage. it was la st jean baptiste. 

la st jean (as it's known) has its roots in paganism, as many of our now-christian holidays do. it used to be a celebration of the summer solstice on june 21st until sometime in the 1st millenia (AD) when the holiday was appropriated by the christians and became la st-jean baptiste. it came to canada with the european immigrants (discovering the new land)  and has been celebrated in "canada" since the 1600's (some countries in europe still celebrate it too: france, sweden, denmark and lithuania, etc) it didn't become a patriotic event for quebec until the mid 1800's. 

in 1977,  june 24th was declared as "la fete national du quebec", which is a somewhat controversial title to the celebration given that quebec isn't officially a nation. but whatever. after that time, it became a stat holiday for all quebecois, not just the catholics or french-canadian (yes, there are non-french quebecois folk). the celebrations slowly became more secularized until they are what we know now: a big rockin' party.

scattered amongst the province are musicians, festivals, parades, family-friendly events, and terraces over-run with drunken people. la st-jean is a celebration of all things quebec. no other province, as a whole, recognizes the holiday though many areas of french canada do have their own celebrations. hence the streamers, red white and blue and street parties of my childhood. many quebecers were surprised that i knew about la st-jean (because clearly, not being from quebec denies me rights as a french-canadian...but that's another post) but it really was a fun time growing up.

unfortunately for quebec, the weather did not cooperate this year. at least not in the montreal area. it rained all day. off and on but mostly on. grey skies. wind gusting. i for one, did not attend any festivities for lack of motivation to go outside in the rain. sad, i know. i would've liked to immerse myself in some quebec-culture (yes, its different from my own french-canadianism), listen to traditional french music, curse the rest of canada for not embracing this holiday as its own and maybe (just maybe) eat a poutine or 2. 

xo

totem

working at the circus has a few perks. i get to treat (mostly) ridiculously fit, (generally) motivated athletes who injure themselves doing things that would hurt mere mortals just thinking about. i get to watch training sessions if/when i have spare time in my schedule. i get to tell people that i'm a carnie... and every now and again, i get to see a show. sure, we had to beg and plead for tickets, but my colleagues and i managed to get to the dress rehearsal of Totem, the current show living at the old port in montreal.

i'm pretty sure that totem tells the story of evolution. there's an "old guy" who plays darwin (who does a nifty juggling act), some monkeys, a few cavemen and nearing the end, some spacemen. i actually felt like i got the gist of this show. which, to be honest, may be a first. not that i've seen that many shows but i don't think i ever really "got" one before. (frankly, i don't think anyone gets them. but i digress)

the show opens with a human water-droplet falling from the sky (until i started writing this, i was convinced they were a disco ball but now that i think about it, it doesn't make sense. water it is). there is a lot of water in the theme- a lot of unnecessarily scantily clad folk (mostly men, so it was fine really) in beach-type scenarios. the monkeys, who bring forth a planet-of-the-apes sub-theme, also reappear often throughout the show. the monkeys are played by humans (because cirque never uses animals) and are incredibly lifelike. a few times during the show, i had to remind myself that they were just men in costumes, not monkeys.

the highlights of totem, in my opinion (without giving away too much) are the duo-trapeze number,  the unicycle act, and last but not least, the russian bar routine.

though, to be honest, the whole thing was just amazing.
xo

do you bixi?

bicycle + taxi = bixi. quickly becoming my favourite way to get around this city, the montreal-based bixi is a very popular bike share program. with stations smattered around the city (just on the island of MTL actually), it's a super convenient way to get from point a to point b.

the idea is that you go to the bike station (large bike racks on random city streets) and either pay for a single use or insert your bixi key-tag and unlock your bike. if you are a subscriber (which we are), you get to use the bixi for 45 mins before having to return it. to any other bike station around town. if you don't subscribe, it's only 30 mins.

the bikes are rather comfortable dutch-style bikes (or hipster bikes, as my friend noted) but have 3 gears and hand brakes. there are built in lights that flash when you pedal, and a rack at the front to hold a bag or 2. they are all easily adjustable for varying heights and easy to ride.

at first, we didn't know what to make of the bixis. we have our own bikes, so we thought it might just be an unnecessary expense. but as the stations started to pop up around town, slowly infiltrating the streets, we were intrigued. we weren't going to subscribe, mostly because the nearest station to us was about 1km away. not that convenient. and then one day -as if by magic- a bike station appeared about 200m down the road. we were ready to embrace our newfound chariots.

think about it. bixis eliminated the annoying part of riding a bike downtown. you lock the bike, go to the bar. move bars. move bars again. then have to get home. but now instead of trying to remember where you parked your bike, you just hop on a new one...at a station just around the corner.  they also eliminate the risk of having your bike pinched. which i'm told is rather common here. they definitely eliminate the waiting around for the bus, or the price of a taxi. i'd like to say they decrease the quantity of cars on the road too, but i think that most people who use the system aren't those who generally drive everywhere anyhow.

the few downsides to bixi, in my opinion are these. first, very few people wear helmets when riding them. i see the occasional person, but it's definitely an afterthought for most people (myself included) when on the bixi. second, whilst it has encouraged many people to start riding a bike to the metro/work/bar, many of these people don't have bike etiquette (upcoming post...) and are giving good cyclists a bad name. and third, some people get frustrated when they show up to a bike stand and see that they're all full / all gone and have to wait a few minutes before getting their bike (this problem is all but eliminated with the right iphone app. which i have)

the bixi system isn't unique; there are plenty of bike share programs around the world (clearly a budding trend), offering cheap, quick and easy transportation around major cities. but it is fun. and it really is convenient.

so, the question remains: do you bixi?
xo

spring

today was a glorious day. a quintessentially spring day. warm but not too hot, cold at night but not so cold you can't go out and enjoy the evening. the leaves have burst out of the trees and are covering the city in green. there's nothing quite like spring.

one of the things i found most difficult to deal with when i lived in australia was the lack of seasons. oh sure, they have seasons. but it's not the same. they aren't quite as clear-cut. they flow from hot to hotter to unbearably hot to "cold" and rainy. that's it. the grass is greener in winter because the water is flowing. my garden always looked better then too. in summer, it just died (a sad, sad death). the transition from winter to spring still happened, but it's so much more amazing here.

it's hard to believe that only 5 weeks ago, the city was a wash of grey. the trees were still sleeping soundly, naked and cold. the grass was just shaking it's winter coat. flowers were still hiding under ground. the wind was cold and bitter, the clouds looming. people were complaining about the weather, wondering if the sun would ever show itself properly.

and then, as if in a dream, it all starts to change. you first notice a trickle of buds on the trees, a few brave flowers pushing through and some patches of green along the sidewalks. then, almost overnight, it just bursts. the leaves are out, green and vibrant. the tulips and crocuses (croci?) start to bloom. the grass is lush. the wind changes. the sun tries to come out more frequently (i say try because spring generally brings a ton of rain). spring arrives.

the thing i find most fun about the change in seasons here is how much people embrace it. the first day the temperature hits double digits and bam! hundreds of folk are out in shorts and t-shirts (and many girls in less then that), talking about how warm it is (no. it's not. you're only deceiving yourselves). the (newly erected) terraces are filled with folk trying to bask in the sun (which must be done before the sun starts to hide, because then it's still too cold to sit outside), whilst still wearing mittens and scarves. barbecues are fired up and the smell of burgers wafts amongst the neighbourhood. thousands of folk seem to be opening their doors, rubbing their eyes and stumbling into the streets, ready to embrace it all again.

spring really is glorious. i don't think it's my favourite season, but it has so many things going for it that it's definitely running a close second to my actual favourite season: patio season

ok, so it's not really a season. but i challenge you to find a canadian who would deny it that title
xo

cruisin'

on friday night, my colleagues and i were treated to a dinner cruise by our employer. there were some 200 other people on board with us, most of which we didn't know.

we were told to arrive sometime after 6,  but that the boat wouldn't be leaving the dock until 7pm. we all arrived with plenty of time to get a good table, find a drink and chat before the night got started. we stayed in the dock far beyond 7pm though, which was rather unfortunate because our view -until we started moving- was the industrial part of the old-port in montreal. to be more specific, we were looking at a parking lot.  once we did leave, the boat seemed to only do a few laps of the old port (rather than going up/down the river properly) before turning back and docking just before 10pm. so, it really was less of a cruise and more of a tour-of-the-port.

we had been told in advance that we'd be getting a 5 course dinner, with an option of chicken or steak for the main. as a vegetarian, neither felt like a good option. luckily, i have had enough experience with meatless-meat meals made very last minute with the wide-eyed look of "ooooh. of course there's a vegetarian meal. let me just go talk to the chef" - followed by 30 minutes of waiting, followed by the exact same meal the meat eaters got only without the meat- that i emailed the organizer and asked if there was a veg option. "yes!" they told me. "not to worry. some delicious grilled vegetable-thing with goat's cheese made special for you".

the first course came out and i had to laugh. it was some sort of duck-pate salad in a tiny little ice cream cone (the size of the ones filled with maple sugar), served with an eye-dropper (honestly) filled with some sort of sauce. clearly, no veg option (isn't duck a vegetable?). the eye droppers made us laugh, but the little suction cup thing that the ice cream cone stood in provided way more entertainment. all night long, in fact. the second course was a coleslaw-type entree served in (i kid you knot) a small tea-cup. so filling. the third was a small salad. then finally, the main.

my friends laughed at me when i told them that since they didn't originally offer a veg option as a main, i would probably be having a lesser quality veg meal. when i saw the duck-ice cream cone with no veg option i said "i am definitely getting a meatless-meat meal". and that's just what i got. all of my colleagues took the steak option, which came with a side of grilled veg and a baked potato. and what did i get? (surprise) a side of grilled veg and a baked potato! *gasp* not only that, but it was designed to even look like steak- 2 small pieces of grilled eggplant stacked on top of each other. (hey, i have news for meat eaters- i don't like meat. stop making my meals to look like meat). so there i was, munching away on the only thing vegetarians eat (right?) - a few sticks of asparagus, some slivers of carrots and peppers, grilled eggplant (which, btw, i freakin' hate!) and a baked potato. so satisfying.

luckily the desert redeemed the meal for me. in fact, i would have liked 2 pieces, which i think should be given standard to vegetarians when our meals are a full-on afterthought. the desert was some sort of delicious chocolate-cake-wafer combo with raspberries on top. so good.

the night was actually a rather good time, thanks to my friends and i tearing up the dance floor and having a good laugh,  but i don't think i'd pay to do it again.
xo

la sala rossa

my favourite thing about montreal so far? randomness.

on friday, we were trying to figure out what we could do that was a- cheap and b- fun. john was his industrious self and found something for us to do- 3 unknown bands playing for 7$ cover. we figured why not? for 7$, if the gig sucked we could just leave. we called what few friends we have in montreal, then made our way to la sala rossa.

la sala rossa is interesting. (in the "mom" sense of the word). it was built (and i quote) by the "left-winged Jewish community of montreal in 1932". the centro social espanol has occupied the building for the past 30 years, and is a cultural centre for spaniards in montreal. the ground floor houses a nifty tapas bar that i would definitely go to (we didn't eat there, but our friends did. they seemed happy). up the stairs, you enter the sala rossa itself.

the hall is your classic elementary school gym. old hardwood floors, stage flush with the back walls, thick red velvet curtains hiding the stage, relatively poor sound quality. however, unlike my elementary school gym, there we a variety of stuffed (and by stuffed, i mean taxidermy stuffed, not plush-toy stuffed) birds (owls and geese) and a full sized deer. yes, that's what i said.

as the night got on it's way, we were slowly but surely engulfed by hipsters. hipsters to the left. hipsters to the right. if you don't know what a hipster is, let me enlighten you as best i can. picture someone who pretends they're not trying to be cool, but tries harder then most. then add shoes (either Cons or ugly brogues), slim fit jeans (on boys) or flower print "dresses" (on girls), a 1970's ski-style wooly sweater/sweater vest (ugh), thick glasses they probably don't even need, "messy hair" that clearly was expertly styled and possibly a tweed or cord jacket thrown over it all, and you'll have one. add to that some dancing to i-don't-know-which-beat and you solidify the hipster genre.

the first band played on the main floor, no stage. it was a bit more punk then we'd expected. i could see nothing as the crowd sort of rushed the area and created a rather large human-screen. i don't feel like i missed much. the 2nd band took to the stage (velvet curtains drawn, of course) but was rather overwhelmed by green lights and a smoke machine. so much so that i could only just make out his ridiculous hair. the 3rd band (headliner, if you will) was actually quite good but the set only lasted about 30 mins, which was rather unfortunate.

when the last band finished, the hipsters quickly fled the sala rossa for greener pastures (namely, the bar across the street we decided to avoid), whilst we made our way to a quieter place to have a drink and laugh about the ridiculous night we'd just had.

only one of many, i'm sure.
xo

machine wash cold

the full title of this should actually be "machine wash cold, tumble dry low" but it felt too long. no, it's not just washing instructions. it's the name of a rather cool event that happens in montreal once a year. it's described as "an artist and apparel showcase" where designers show off their collections of t-shirts, prints, hand-sewn whatsists that are unique and difficult to find elsewhere (if you can find them at all). the event is in its 4th year. we'd been told it was the most amazing party, so we figured why not?

we took a cab to the event, mostly because montreal apparently forgot that it's now spring (not winter) but also because we had no idea where we were going. thank god we did. our cab pulled in and we looked around thinking that surely this was not the place. we were in the dodgiest area of town amongst a variety of old, run down industrial buildings. we couldn't see anyone or hear any music (so much for a party!). we eventually found our way in, only to discover that we were some of the first to arrive, even though we thought we'd be late (mental note: you can never be too late at an art-like event. artists can't tell time)

the setting was weird, as only artsy events are. the trendy industrial loft, as my friend kept calling it -until we arrived- was actually an indoor beach volleyball court. half of the area was curtained off and the other half was transformed into a beach party. kind of. t-shirts were hung around the area and artists were painting a mural along the wall. a dj was spinning cool music and one shirtless man was dancing up a storm on the beach. we grabbed some drinks and waited for the night to unfold.

and unfold it did. whilst not exactly the most amazing party of the year (which we were prepared for), it was instead just a fun night of complete randomness. the rollerboyz (their spelling. not mine. clearly) performed (i use that term loosely). essentially, the roller-skated (in short shorts) down a small boardwalk on the "beach" and then jumped off the ramp at the end into the sand. their tricks were poor at best, but it was incredibly funny to watch.

t-shirts were on sale, and i feel that they sold incredibly well, especially as the night (and drinks) wore on. home made hot dogs were available for snacks (not so useful for a veg like me, but you know, not all artists are hippies i guess). drinks were had. laughs were copious. hipsters were abundant.

we left there with a few t-shirts (and uhm,  a newly acquired, bowling pin) enjoying the fact that whilst we felt like this was the most ridiculous evening of random events, we live in montreal now. so we should probably get used to it.
xo

advance (like) australia fair

oh canada. how you disappoint me sometimes. i recently had  experiences that tainted my feelings about being home. i should have added these to the "things i liked about australia" post in my last blog, but i forgot. well, now i've remembered.

1- cell phones: it never ceases to amaze me that canada can be so crappy when it comes to cell phones. for years we've paid "tower fees" and "access fees" on our phone plans, been charged roaming when stepping 1 meter outside your calling area, get charged for calls going out AND coming in (same for texts) and have restricted times of day to use minutes. all this at ridiculous prices, on obscenely long contracts that you'd have to sell your first child (or 2) to get out of!

it's been argued many-a-time, generally by companies like bell and rogers, that canada is just too big and too sparsely populated to sustain anything else. well, not so! you see, australia is similar to canada both in geographical size and population size (in fact, we have about 12 million more people then australia). and they can do it.

sure, australian phone plans have their own faults, but i can far more easily look past them. first, australia has an "australia wide" cell phone number (or mobile, if you will). meaning that if i am on a cell phone (or mobile...), i can call another cell phone, anywhere in the country, at any time of day, and pay the same rate. perth to perth, or perth to sydney. doesn't matter. i don't have to guess if i'm calling a cell or a landline either because all cells have the same phone number style. landlines have a different one. so. much. easier.

add to that the fact that they don't charge you for incoming calls (because really, it's just ridiculous to do so), often have free calls/texts between the same company's users and that data plans don't add 40$ a month to your bill and bam! miles ahead of canada. and that's just the beginning. pay as you go actually works well there (back to the whole won't-charge-for-incoming-calls thing) and it's generally easier to upgrade your phone (without offering your kidney to them). all in all, their system puts us to shame.

i've recently had the joy of looking at my cell phone bill wondering why i got charged long distance. well, you see, when i went to another city it became my local calling area. for calling out. only. when i accepted an incoming call, i was billed long distance roaming. and the same for when i called my voicemail in another city. from my own phone, i might add. long distance fee. WHAT? stupid canadian cell phone plans. i will never get used to them.

2- banking: more specifically, online banking. if you've never had the pleasure of trying to get money transferred into your account from another bank, you're in for a treat someday. the process, involving emails and secret passwords, makes me think that canadian banks have forgotten to move ahead with the whole internet-thing. i also tried to get money transferred from out of the country. generally, a routine process involving about 12 different pieces of information (bank account, routing bank, other routing bank, codes, numbers, letters...) in australia, a simple BSB and bank account number will allow you to transfer money smoothly from one account to another. regardless of which bank you use. surely it's more secure to just transfer money without having to send an email (and then hope that the person on the receiving end either knows the answer to your secret question - my favourite band?- or else you have to send them the answer via email... it all seems a bit suss to me.

on the same note, i can pay bills/rent/plane tickets by bank transfer (because it's such an easy process). not so in canada. i actually had to get a checkbook. a checkbook! i know a lot of people still use them (i guess) but i don't. i haven't for over 4 years. it was all done digitally. so much easier. better to set up regular payments and transfers. no worrying that it'll get in the wrong hands. no need to balance it, because it's all there in front of me. easy.

the other thing banks here are missing is the visa-debit card. a visa you can use anywhere in the world and the money is immediately taken out of your account. i loved that card. i'm told it's just about everywhere else in the world. mostly it just facilitates your online purchasing without using a credit card, but it's also helpful when you go somewhere and your interact card doesn't work (hello USA) but you'd rather not rack up huge credit card bill. does it mean people won't ever use a credit card? of course not. but it means that you can buy things online and be a bit more responsible about it if you want. i never had a credit card in australia. it was kind of liberating.


canada, you could learn something from the aussies. because if they can do it, we can too. there. it's been said.
xo

le marché

what a glorious spring day! there's nothing quite like the first amazing spring day in canada. the sun is out. it's warm but crisply cool at the same time. you can sit outside but still need a jacket. and when the sun goes down, you remember that it's still only april 2nd. but still- it's glorious!

we took advantage of the weather to (finally!) start roaming around montreal. first stop, the jean-talon markets. the market sits in the heart of little italy (which we have yet to explore) and has an abundant amount of local producers offering their goods. the market has been up and running since 1933 (!)  and is open all year round. apparently in summer it's huge. some 300 vendors or so. i'm already looking forward to that.

otherwise, it's just your typical market: fruit and veg, cheese,  meat, florists, fish mongers, yadda yadda yadda. but then, with a great canadian twist (which i'm sure they would say is more quebecois than canadian, but i digress)- the mini-"cabane a sucre" (or sugar bush, for you anglos).

the cabane a sucre is a quintessential part of spring in this area of the world- northern USA, quebec and ontario (maybe elsewhere, i have no idea). the real cabane a sucre is an experience in itself, which i think all folk trying to experience canada should do. the market's mini version isn't quite the same, but it's good nonetheless. not only can you buy maple syrup in all of it's sugary embodiments (suckers, cones, syrup, hard candies, butters, etc) but you can also get the most spectacular treat of them all: maple syrup "tire" (taffy. sort of). they drizzle boiled sap onto some snow, and twirl it around a popsicle stick. bliss. sugary sugary bliss. (actually, we didn't have any today. we had some not long ago at another little sugar shack in old montreal. and after about 2 licks of the maple-syrup popsicle, we had to throw it away because i could feel my teeth and innards rotting. so sweet. so, so sweet. for some reason, i loved it as a child...)

we sat outside the market, in the sun, and enjoyed a coffee (type beverage) whilst listening to a pan-flute band busk. i can honestly say that i 1- haven't heard a pan flute band in years (clearly, not a popular instrument in australia) and 2- only hear the pan flute buskers near markets. in canada. this band wasn't playing to a track though, so we gave them some coins.

but really, i do love markets. in any country i've ever visited, i try to take in the market. it's such a great way to see different cultures in action, see local foods, smell local smells (some more pleasant than others). it makes me feel a bit more like a local, and less like a tourist. i like talking to growers and finding out about the products i'm buying. i like roaming around and feeling like i'm part of the community, even though i'm just one of thousands of folk who also roam.

there was nothing particularly special at the jean-talon markets. but i'm happy there just the same.
xo

the hunt

no. this blog won't only be critiquing quebec, but also to revel in what wonderful things it has to offer. the first thing that i will rave about is this: apartment hunting. oh yes, i can hear it now. my montreal-based friends scoffing at the cost of rent here and how hard it is to find a nice place. i can hear my other canadian friends tell me how much cheaper it is to rent in montreal (i know!). and i can picture my australian friends asking how it's possible to enjoy apartment hunting. surely, i must be joking. i'm not.

'cause here it is. 4 years ago, when we were looking for a place to live in perth we were exposed to the brutality of it all. most places are run by property managers who are (as best as i gather) out for no one but themselves. they are the middlemen of all middlemen. the people who hold your ability to find appropriate housing (and then gouge you for it) in the palm of their hand, always blaming the owner, who generally knows nothing but nothing and does whatever said property manager tells them. if you ask for something to get fixed, you can generally expect a few weeks of waiting because they have to take your request, sit on it for 2 weeks, ask the owner, wait for the answer, go out for dinner on your recent rent increase, file their nails, stop in for a quarterly rent inspection (yes, quarterly), sit on it a few more days, then get back to you.

perth (and most of australia i think) doesn't have a cpi, or a maximum percentage increase per year. instead, as we discovered, it is entirely at the discretion of the property manager. increase your weekly rent by 20$ after 6 months? sure, why not? do it again 6 months later? absolutely. increase it by 15% when you resign a lease? might as well. because if you don't, they'll just tell you that you can leave in 2 weeks and they'll find someone else willing to pay a ridiculous price for a crappy place to live. so you do it. and you hate yourself for giving into them, but what are you going to do? with a rental availability of under 4% (i think it was down to 1% when we rented), you're kind of stuck. they know it, you know it. it's not good.

when we signed our initial lease, we had to offer more money per week to secure the rental. more money! how that is even legal, i don't know. but everyone does it. it's pretty much expected when you submit your application. with a full week's rent. that you only get back if they don't take you. if you want to apply for more then one place at a time you need a good amount of disposable income. you also need to be unemployed (which contradicts the last point, but keep reading) because they schedule "viewings" at the most obscene times of day (2:15 on tuesday afternoon, for 10 minutes. don't be late or you'll miss your chance). when the lease is finally up, it's a battle to get your "bond" back. and i know very few people who ever get it back in full, because the property manager will always find something wrong. always.

so, imagine my glee when i started apartment hunting in montreal to find that not only were there an abundant amount of rentals, but most were through the landlords themselves and many were very reasonably priced. when we called people they were, get this, friendly. they were more then happy to show us their apartments at times that were (wait for it) convenient for us. so i happily went around from place to place, asking what was included (and things were included!), and when the rental started (whenever i like? oustanding!). i was even offered more places when i spoke to a few people ("maybe you'll like this other place better. why don't i take you there?")

when we finally decided on a place (which, i'll add, is awesome), we were pretty stoked. not only were we encouraged to paint ("sure, no problem") but the super in our building was very concerned when we told him the door-lock mechanism was not working well ("i'll call someone today"). he was nice to us. nice. we have an amazing view. heat and hot water included. lots of space. secure parking. secure entrance. didn't have to give a security bond and we negotiated our rent down. down! ha. take that perth.

yes, i know what you're thinking by now. and yes, you should move here too.
xo

i don't mean to be rude but...

ok, here's the thing. as soon as someone says that, they're going to be rude. "i don't mean to be rude, but that guy is ugly". guess what? that's rude! it's right up there with "don't take this the wrong way", "i'm not trying to be racist" or "no offense". all of these are clearly setting you up for exactly that: racist or offensive comments that will certainly be taken the wrong way. obviously.

i've always wondered where the idea that if-i-open-the-sentence-with-the-obvious-people-can't-get-mad-at-me came from. who was it that looked their friend in the eye and said "no offense but you look fat in those jeans! what?! i said 'no offense'". i imagine that the first few times someone tried to get away with it involved some tears, some rage and possibly some fist-fighting. now it's just part of acceptable culture. a bit sad really.

i'm not sure if it's because i'm getting older or what, but i'll now tell people exactly how i feel about those satements. when someone says "no offense" i call it as it is and say "but you're going to be offensive..." it kind of throws them. like they can't believe i called them on it. well guess what? i did. i'm just trying to do my part -educating one person at a time- that if you're going to say something rude, well damn it! just say it. i'll decide if it's offensive or not and i will make sure you know it too.

if this (free) education comes at the expense of them being flustered and embarrassed, so be it. i'm willing to accept that responsibility. because, no offense, it's just rude not too.
xo

the rules according to me

this is not going to be a post about montreal drivers... though it could be. but i'm still saving that for another post. this is more about driving etiquette (or lack thereof) that i've experienced all over the world. i hated it in australia. i hate it in canada. i'm sure i'd hate it just as much in europe, but i've never driven there. so here are my top 6 pet peeves on the road:

1- not signaling. whether you're turning or just cutting in front of me, in the city or on the highway, the courtesy of a signal light is nice. i am, unfortunately, not a mind reader. so i generally don't know where you're about to go when you're driving in front of me. signals are surprisingly easy to use and take only a fraction of a second to turn on/off. and they save me from cursing at you.

1a-  late signaling is just as (if not more!) annoying. if i pull up behind you at a red light, and you only turn the signal on after i'm there, you will likely see my arm raise up in frustration and see me mouthing "c'mon!"in your rearview. surely you knew you were about to turn before you stopped at the light.

2- not waving. i know this sounds petty, but if i let you into my lane (or forgive some other road-sin that you've committed), for the love of god, just put your hand up and give me a quick wave of thanks. otherwise you seem like a pretentious git who feels it's your born right to cut in front of me. nothing enrages my husband faster then a rude cutter-inner.

2a- getting mad at me if i don't let you in. honestly! just because someone slowed down in your lane or a truck stopped to unload something, doesn't mean you automatically get to cut in front of me. wrong! i choose the wrong lane all the time (when i drive, at the checkout of the grocery store, buying tickets for the movie, etc.). i admit, it sucks. but it's no one else's fault. just mine. sure i might get irritated with the super slow cashier, but i keep it to myself (or rant to my spouse/friend) and then move on.

3- not pulling ahead when turning left. the amount of times i've been stuck at a light twice (twice!) because the person in front of me didn't inch forward during the light have been too numerous to count. did young drivers teach you nothing? inch forward. inch forward. it's not that hard.

4- driving slowly in the fast lane on the highway.  i get it, you're doing the speed limit. but i'm not. so regardless of how fast you're going, you should get out of the way and move back into the slower lane. i abide by this rule, even when the person who passes me is blurry because they are going so fast. it's my own prerogative. if i want a ticket, so be it. who are you to stop me?

5- using 4-ways as "get out of jail free" lights. ok, here's the thing. when you randomly stop in a lane, or pull over somewhere you aren't supposed to- whether you're blocking traffic or not- turning on your 4 ways does not mean you can do whatever you want. "triple park for 20 mins? no problem. i put my 4 ways on".

6- taking 2 parking spots for one car. last, but certainly not least. this one drives me mental. i'm sorry, but that fact is that if you actually drive a car that is nice enough to warrant the "oblique park" or the "smack between two spots park", then you probably wouldn't park it outside. in the parking lot. at costco (or other such shops). your dodge/chevy/pontiac does not qualify as a good enough car. i don't care if it does have tinted windows or a personalized plate that says "imawsme", it doesn't need that much room. if you suck that much at parking, you should take another driving course.

i had thought about adding "playing bad music loud enough that i can hear it in my car" to the list. i guess i just did. darned drivers. suppose this explains why i generally ride my bike. which is a whole other story in itself...

xo

chicken nest

quebec roads. they are quickly becoming my nemesis. not because of the drivers (which i'm saving for another post) but for their actual quality.

pot holes, in most other places, are a nuisance. in montreal (possibly all of quebec), they are damned well life threatening. there are pot holes the size of dinosaur footprints scattered all about the roads, with no specific pattern and absolutely no warning until you are essentially on top of one (or more accurately, in one). some are deep, some are wide, most are both.

i read recently in the local paper that there are some 20 000 potholes that get fixed every year in montreal. fixed! and they are still behind. how that is possible, i don't know. how a city can have over 20000 death-defying potholes to fix every year is beyond me. it's almost as though the government is in cahoots with the car repair shops- "if you don't fix the roads, i make more money mr. prime minister sir". they're so bad that even the buses have stopped driving down certain roads (with no warning, much to commuters chagrin) because it was giving the drivers back pain and other such problems. if a city bus can't brave these potholes, then what chance does my poor little car have? (correction- my dad's car. which makes me even more cautious, really).  and i can't even imagine how you would get through one on your bike *shudder* - mental note: get bigger tire.

i find it hard to believe that this is to be blamed on the weather, which is what most government publications and newpaper articles  (suppose they're essentially the same thing nowadays) suggest. there are other cities in canada that have similar weather patterns but no similar pothole problem. is the government cheaping out? probably a more likely story.

i've had a few quebecers tell me that in fact, the state of their roads is pretty similar throughout the province. and that the easiest way to tell that you've left quebec is that there are lines on the road (again, saving that for another post) and flat smooth roads for miles on end. there are a disturbing amount of websites dedicated to potholes in montreal - how to avoid them, how to drive over them if you have to, how to complain about them, etc etc. the fact that people google how to avoid them is astounding.(disturbing?)

as a side note- i want to point out that potholes are called nids-de-poule in french, which (literally) translates to chickens' nests. how a chicken's nest can mean a pothole is beyond me. first, chicken's nests are made of hay, twigs and other such items, not pavement and gravel. second, chicken's nests are usually elevated or in a coop, not dug into the ground. third, not many chickens run around cities (in canada. australia...whole different story!) and fourth, if there is ever a chicken big enough to warrant a nest the size of a small car, so help me god...

xo

mother nature

i have to be honest. leaving australia in the peak of summer so i could move back to canada (nay, montreal) in the dead of winter may not have been the best idea i've ever had.

somehow, when you live away from the weather you once dreaded, you kind of glamourize it, make it seem like it was wonderful. you recollect warm feelings of glee about snowdays in school (god i wish i still had those). you remember how your cheeks got burned on the skihill that sunny day. you think fondly about mittens, tuques and scarves (such accessories!).

you get off the plane from vancouver (where it it only moderately cold) and step into montreal (where it is bone chillingly cold). you gasp, do a quick inhale and say "i missed this". you sit in the van while your brother drives you through the biggest snowstorm of the year and say "it's not so bad". you wake up at 4am - mostly jetlagged but also wondering what the f that blue light in your room is, only to sneak out of your covers (carefully of course. it's bloody cold in the house) to notice a snowplow encrusting the end of your driveway with solid snow banks but decide that you don't mind. shoveling is fun!

but slowly, steadily, it all comes back. creeping back to you. waking up the real memories of winter that you had so magically hidden in depths of your brain that you never thought they would come back. you actually remember that snow days were only partly fun because you still had to go to school. that your toes got frostbite when you went skiing. and that all the lovely winter accessories are a rather big nuisance when you're doing anything other then walking outside.

i was still doing alright with it all, given the circumstances. having bought boots in vancouver (which, i figured out, are designed for winter in vancouver. not montreal), mittens and a tuque in cornwall (end of season = not nearly good enough) and scrounged my old winter jacket (thankfully wonderfully warm), i was pretty well geared up for the weather. i did, in fact, enjoy a few days of playing in the snow with my nieces, stroll around the block and felt my cheeks get rosy.

and then it happened.

only a few days after i got home, i officially moved to montreal. montreal, as far as i can decipher, is french for "bloody fucking cold". the night i moved here, my mom and i were shocked by the weather (it hit me particularly hard, given that i'd only one week before been basking in 30 degree sun on the beach). my toes froze. my hands froze. i was not at all motivated to go back outside after i got home from work. snow had in fact turned grey overnight. slush was abundant (apparently common here. mental note: find winter rain boots...).  and the sun set at 4pm.

turns out i wasn't prepared. not at all. i forgot about winter. i really had created a magical winter wonderland in my head, only to be slapped in the face by real winter. canadian winter. montreal winter. i have moved back to canada (nay, montreal) in the middle of the coldest month. what. the. f. was. i. thinking? mother nature 1, michelle 0.

luckily i only have to endure 6-8 weeks of winter this year. and as the city is starting to melt, i'm starting to think that maybe it won't be that bad after all.
xo

bonjour

at the suggestion of friends and family, i've decided to blog about my new life in montreal and at cirque. having recently moved back to canada from our 4 year stint in australia, i am constantly discovering reasons i'm glad to be home (family) and remembering reasons why i was happy to leave in the first place (weather). i say "oh, it's not like that in australia" or "aussies do this a bit differently" on a daily basis (sometimes with disdain, sometimes with fondness). i become more aware of the similarities we have with the aussies and also the major differences. i shiver, i bundle up, i walk everywhere. i explore.

i'll do my best to blog regularly, but to be honest, i don't think my life is exciting enough to do it daily. that said, i've been amassing good blog fodder for the past 6 weeks already, so i may be able to update a bit more frequently at first.

people have been asking me what it's like being home after being away. in truth, i can't really answer that. because i don't know. see, i grew up in ontario and i am now living in quebec. home couldn't be further from where i am, even though it's only an hour away.

i hope you enjoy the blog!
xo