24 April 2007

8 days a week

The Montreal that I have come to know during these long winter months is virtually unrecognizable. As the temperature has risen, residents and tourists alike have inundated the streets, terraces, and open-air bars. Conversations are jubilant, and the drinks are flowing.

I have been avoiding my computer as much as possible, because I have come to hate it. It shuts down spontaneously at least 4 times a day, the internet connection is abysmal, dust is rattling in the fan, and it is processing everything painstakingly slowly. Looks like it needs to go it for a spring check-up. After all, how can I continue to whittle the hours away on other blogs, facebook and makeup sites if my computer itself is not up to snuff? This simply won't do!

During my computer strike, I have been taking advantage of the spring fever that has hit this city.

Thursday: Attending our year-end MA event at a microbrewery/pizza place, stopping for coffee and at the liquor store, before continuing the evening on Mark's balcony and then for dancing in the Village. Watched a terrible cover band (The Ramblers)that we decided had foregone their niche market of mid-life crisis dads to target a fan base of eagle shirt-wearing, aging lesbians.

Friday: Sushi at Takara and raspberry beer at Brutopia while meeting Jennie's new beau, Zach. We were then shown around the office of Zach's friend, who works for a Swedish company and has a hydraulic desk. This little peek made the world of cubicles seem quite attractive.

Saturday: Making a big breakfast for Jennie, Zach and Nyambura of crepes with strawberries and ricotta cheese, then watching a marathon of Pussycat Dolls: The Search for the Next Doll (shame, shame) all afternoon before visiting lots of patios (and drinking red and white sangria) with Jess' brother who was visiting from Winnepeg.

Sunday: Visited the Biodome to see all the cool animals and other exhibits. Checked out the cop film spoof: Hot Fuzz. Timothy Dalton has not aged, let me tell ya.

Yesterday: Woke up from a very vivid superhero dream, wherein I was on the cast of Lost, and kicking serious ass. Was angry all day after realizing it was only a dream. Went to the Cock and Bull to show Jess' brother the glory of arts and crafts night. Almost started a fight with whiteboy beatboxers who took over the stage, when I kept yelling "you're terrible!", Mark screamed "Madonna or nothing, bitches!" and Jess held up a sign that read, simply "You can't rap." Decided to call it a night when they began to group together and point at us.

My sex ed paper is done and submitted, and now, one more assignment until I am finished for the year.


Jess said...

Well, honestly, what did they think? A pub full of drunken students would let them get away with that? Heck no.

Just Linds said...

sounds like you have been a busy girl! glad to see you are enjoying montreal! love it there!

ps. bad fake rappers are the worst!