It's Monday (in Two Acts)

Act I

It doesn't feel like Valentines, because it's rainy and cold and I'm sitting in a conference room but no students have come to see me (even though colour vision is a really hard topic and I think they'll need help*). It felt like Valentines yesterday when we spent the afternoon being lazy and talking about guest lists and dresses and venues and nothing. Then we dressed up and went to my favourite Italian anything restaurant (hi Ennio!) with new dear friends and ate until we could barely walk home.

It was kind of like this:



Still, it reminds me of a rainy and cold Valentines-on-a-school-day a lot of years ago when Dave and I were studying for a midterm in Douglas Library, and I was telling him about the chocolates I'd gotten in the mail from a new not-quite-boyfriend-yet and he was happy for me and we went to Subway for lunch.

Act II


The thing that makes Dave laugh at me/tear his hair out the most is how literal I can be, so when this joke popped up on my Google Reader, I sent it to him right away:

A wife asks her software engineer husband: "Could you please go shopping for me and buy one carton of milk, and if they have eggs, get 6!" A short time later the husband comes back with 6 cartons of milk. The wife asks him, "Why the hell did you buy 6 cartons of milk?" He replied, "They had eggs."


At least I haven't done that. Yet. 


* Though, I have plenty of work to do that I'm writing schmoopy** blog posts instead of doing so there's plenty of evidence that we don't always do what's best for us. 
** I've added an "aww" category in its honour, we shall see if it ever gets used again.

It's so exciting

Engaged as of February 3, at Hôtel Quintessence in Mont Tremblant, Quebec.

Love of my life: Macaroni and Cheese

Eat Make Read

It made my winter when I found Celia's rendition of this recipe on Eat Make Read. I think the trick is the goat cheese - it makes me want to skip the baking process and just eat the sauce with a spoon. Depending on what has been available at my grocery store, I've substituted some variant of aged cheddar for the gouda and parmesan for the cheddar (proportion-wise). Yum.

Mon (Notre) Beau Sapin!

On Saturday Tory and I went to the Atwater market and procured a beautiful five-foot fir tree because we were both in need of some Christmas spirt to see us through December.

We brought it home on the bus, which was not as difficult as it sounds.

This afternoon we dusted off the decorations and decked the tree out in blue, silver, gold, and not-quite-enough aubergine.

A beautiful (lonely) not-bright-violet ornament.

Apparently aubergine is out and the purple of the year is violet which will not do. It turned out well, anyway.

A full view of the tree.

A bit of a snowflake theme emerged, which
we picked up in the ribbon we got for a garland.

I love these disco-ball ornaments we got at dollarama. They add just
enough of a playful bling.

Not bad for a dollar store star.

This Week's Obsession: Christmas Cards

I know I'm pretty much a grownup, because for the last few years I've been getting Christmas cards in the mail from old friends. I love getting cards, but I have yet to send cards because once I start I'm committed and people might notice when I stop. I would like to start sending cards this year, as long as I'm careful not to overextend myself and draw up a list of 50 potential recipients in a fit of holiday enthusiasm.

The logical thing to do would be to go to any one of the 100 000 000 000 gift shops in Montreal and buy a little pack of 10-15 cards, but obviously I haven't done that or else this would not have been a week-long (and counting...) obsession. I can't pass up the opportunity to design my own cards, and with all the wonderful custom printing options around these days, it's easy to do so - but alarmingly expensive. $1.99-$2.99 for a card + envelope, before shipping.

Another problem is that these photo cards are clearly meant to have sweet family photos or baby pictures in them:

It just looks weird to have photos of yourself (and cat):

So maybe I'll send out Christmas cards this year, if I ever decide what to send.

The Pink Shoe Saga

I bought a fabulous pair of shoes at Guess to wear for a wedding this past weekend.

Shiny, pink, platform, heel -
what more can a former 90s tween ask for?

And classy with a modest skirt.

I think I will be remembered as the girl who danced for hours in ridiculous heels - if only they knew what a whiner I am, they might have believed me when I said the shoes were actually comfy.

The photographers thought the shoes were awesome, and took a few photos before we went to take the pre-wedding photos of the groomsmen. In a field.

Narrow heels + damp grass = disaster.
Not pictured: muddy tights from taking a spill after getting stuck.

So at that point, I gave up on the shoes, but not on observing the photography.

It was cold, but I was more concerned about what needing
a tetanus shot would do to the schedule.

The fact that I (of the constantly ice cold feet) did not mind wandering around almost barefoot for 20 minutes is especially incredible considering that by evening the view outside was like this:

So I stayed inside and danced.

This week, I have promised my feet I will be wearing sneakers. Unless I need snow boots.

Random Photo of the Day

Part of the show involved invading the audience's personal space.

This is from last February's Nuite Blanche, at a random experimental dance performance. It was free, and very unusual.

Dave updated my iPhoto to the latest version last night, inspiring me to go through and tag/place more of my photos. I'd forgotten about this until I came across an "unnamed event".

Losing Confidence in the Signs of Spring

After a weekend of sangria,

sunshine,

and patios,

the weather has decided that it is a tease. It is cold, windy, snowing, slushy, and miserable. Our plans for a Thursday soccer game have been put on hold because the pitch is currently under 5-10cm of snow. Montreal, you win this round.

I'm moving to California.

Maybe Africa.

Sometimes life *is* like Sex and the City

You know the end of the opening sequence to Sex and the City? When Carrie is walking down the street all stylish and then a BUS comes out of NOWHERE and splashes her and her tutu with water?

Picture that, but with icky Montreal slush, a bigger wave of it, and no tutu.

At least my coat is semi-waterproof.

This occurred on my way to go skating at the old Port. It was a fun afternoon, even though I took a spill and landed on my knees. I thought it was fine, it only hurt a little. Then I woke up this morning:Notice how the left knee is visibly larger and purple-er than the right knee. Ouch!

Montreal in the Winter

Here are some city pictures that I took during a brief spell of good weather.

I love my walk home.

This is the balcony for the building where I work. It's symmetrical on the other side. There are picnic tables hidden under all the snow.

The cityscape as viewed from walking down Atwater.

Still Atwater, but in this shot you can see my two favourite Tudor-style buildings.

Myths of City Living

Since reading "Bright lights, big ass" I've been thinking a lot about how the glamourous city life is often so so far from reality. And not just because I can't afford a single pair of designer shoes.

This morning, for example. It was excellent until I left the house (early!). I'd done my makeup, flat-ironed my hair, was rocking a super-cute outfit, life was good. I was at the bus stop (early!) and waited around for the bus, until it arrived on time.... but packed. Even though I was one of the first people waiting, I ended up at the back of the line to get on. Everyone boarded, and then I was holding out my pass and the bus driver closed the doors. Seriously. He drove off, leaving me standing there in a snowbank. First of all, I'm not that big. I'm pretty sure I would have fit. Second of all - I was there FIVE MINUTES EARLY. The people who show up late should be the ones who have to stand out in the cold another 15 minutes.

Needing something to life my spirits, I decided to spend my 15 minutes wisely and grab a comfort latte at Starbucks. I was standing waiting for the drink at the bar when I saw the next bus pass by, almost empty, FIVE MINUTES EARLY. I got my drink, resigned to going to the subway station a block south to wait for the next one somewhere warm. Once outside, I noticed the bus that had passed was very delayed at the stop half a block north. There was a giant snow bank between the people area and the road. Little old ladies can be slow climbing snowbanks. I was pretty sure I could make it, so I hustled, sloshing latte all over my gloves as I ran. Then, the second bus within touching distance pulled away from me without letting me board. Time to kill another 15 minutes.

I spent them cold and in the bus shelter.

When I got off the bus (not too crowded, but I'd still had to stand), snow clearance was going on in earnest. My commute ended with me running up a packed snow hill away from a fast approaching snow plow.

Observation #1- I'm never making fun of tractors in rural places again.

Observation #2 - I'd like to see any of the sex and the city girls OR jen lancaster pull that off in cute heels.

Observation #3- When it takes an hour to pull off a 10-15 minute commute, you have a problem.