Stuff.

Like most relatively normal people, my house is full of crap. I've moved countless times in the past few years and I get rid of stuff every time, but man. I still have a lot of junk.

There's the usual litany of childhood relics. Books I loved (Annabel Lee, A Little Princess) but never read anymore. Cards from my 2nd birthday. A million pictures of my dog. These are things that I'll eventually have to part with, but until it becomes absolutely necessary they're moving with me. Report cards, love letters, the usual bullshit beginning-of-the-relationship notes and scrawlings about work meetings on napkins that remind me of a specific day or memory. I'm pretty sure this is something other people do. Right?

But I realized today that while most of these little old relationship reminders are hidden in piles of papers and tucked into books as placeholders, there are a few that stand out in the open. As much as this might be a TMI moment, this came to me today when I got dressed and noticed that I still have a pair of underwear from a 3-pack of an old boyfriend I lived with. (No, I'm not saying who.) We bought them at Wal-Mart or something, he took 2 pairs and gave me the third. I don't remember why - I can actually go for about 2 months without running out of clean underwear, not like I was desperate for a new pair or anything - but it struck me as cute and kind of silly and I kept them. They make me smile and think of the little things he used to do for me. He had a knack for pissing me off (often on purpose because he thought I should lighten up) and always knew how to catch me off-guard with some stupid little gesture (like the underwear thing). It struck me that he also gave me a little troll doll (why were those things ever popular?!) carrying a flag that sits out on a shelf with my favorite lamp. Beside that is another weird Jamaican hot sauce doll (you'd have to see it to understand, even I don't really get it) from another guy I was with for a while.

Then I looked around the rest of my living room.. whoa. band posters on my walls, more lamps (also remembered that I never use any of my lamps...), random pieces of art, foreign cigarette packages, hats, toys. Things I would definitely have thrown out ages ago, were it not for the way I think about the men who made me so happy with them at the time. I'm not super cluttered; maybe because I have a bigger apartment now so I can spread this shit around, but I don't feel like I'm at that hoarder stage. So is it weird that I keep all this ex stuff? Is it weirder that I didn't notice until today? Funny, right now I just remembered that this was part of a plotline in a How I Met Your Mother episode. Are you supposed to get rid of ex stuff after a relationship's over?

Weather Fail

I'm trying to watch the Sopranos. Obviously it's groundbreaking and brilliant and blah blah blah, but I just can't get into it. Maybe it's because I'm using really old crappy quality .avi files, but this is the second or third time I've tried to watch it and I just get distracted. If anyone loves this show, tell me when I should just give up (I'm on episode 3 now), because I'm going to persevere and try to get through at least 6 episodes before I call it quits. So far it's just been a lot of stuff about ducks. And then someone gets killed. And there's some weird 60s music. That's all I've gotten so far.
I've been looking for a good edition of Trivial Pursuit for a few years now, and a few weeks ago a lovely friend of mine picked up the 80s Master Edition for me at a second-hand store. Since then, I've spent hours just reading the cards. I take a handful on the metro with me and test myself, seeing how many answers I can get. As always, I suck at the sports questions, I'm decent at politics, and I do well in music and news stories. I have noticed that there are a few reliable answers that I can fall back on:
-hockey questions are almost always Wayne Gretzky.
-anything about cars, and the car business, is Lee Iacocca.
-piano or musician questions are, 2/3 times, Liberace.
-anything about scandal? totally Iran-Contra.
There you go. Now you know the secret to me winning at this game for the rest of my life. I love board games. I love playing them, probably because I'm pretty good at it. My Achilles Heel is Risk; I refuse to play ever again. I am TERRIBLE and it is stress city. I've been trying to find a copy of A Question of Scruples for a while as well, but with no luck so far (if anyone ever sees one, plz pick it up and I will totally pay you back!). My best friend and I used to play it all the time growing up, and it always made me giggle. It's not even that great of an exercise in board game prowess, but the hypothetical situations those writers have come up with are hilarious. If you're unfamiliar with the game, it's basically a bunch of cards with "morally questionable" situations on them. Each player has 5 "question" cards (example: "You are walking down the street and a blind man in front of you drops a $5 bill. Do you stop him and give it back?") and 1 answer card with Yes, No, or Depends on it. The cards are read to another player that will hypothetically answer with a yes, no, or depends - you choose the person you're asking based on the answer card (y/n/d) you've got in your hand at that point. For example, if someone who knew me pretty well had that card, they'd ask me if they had a "no" answer card, and they'd ask a nun if they had a "yes" answer card. Get it? It's awesome. I don't know why it slays me so much, but it does, and if you ever get a chance to play I suggest you do it. If you get it for me for my birthday in a couple months, you can even come over and play with me.
This city is getting a lot nicer again. I love Montreal springtimes. Everyone decides that it's time to get outside, which (ignoring the assholes and inconsiderate idiots who don't understand how to walk/drive/bike) is pleasant. This is the 2-month window before it gets unbearably hot, so I'm trying to enjoy it as much as possible. I've got friends coming into town next weekend, then I'm hopefully off to Toronto the next weekend for NXNE. I'm not big on music festivals, but I realized that I've gone up this time of year for the past 3 years and I want to see some of the delightful people I know. It's unlikely that I'll be around again this summer, and this might be the trip I take instead of going back East again. I have many reasons to go back there, but right now I'm just not in the mood to deal with it. Funny how one person can ruin an entire trip, but I don't want to see that happen. Keeping it light and fun is the way to go, and I know that won't happen this time. That means I'm going to have to encourage everyone I like to come up here, but I think it's worth it. Besides, who doesn't want to take a trip to Montreal? That's right. No one.

Lazy Sunday

No Chronicles of Narnia, but I've got a good Sunday routine down these days: cleaning, laundry in the evening, getting some groceries, making something delicious with said groceries, and listening to NPR podcasts. Tonight I'm adding in some dep wine, because I'm classy.
My very very good friend Ellen graduated from McGill's Schulich School of Music on Friday. I learned all kinds of things, and had others confirmed for me.
Learned:
There's a pretty small grad class for the music school, probably every year, and it's full of music jokes that most of the audience didn't always get.
Parents are jerks with their cameras and will step in front of you at every oppertunity.
People do not understand the direction "keep out of the aisles during the ceremony."
Confirmed:
Someone always doesn't turn off their phone, and there is a muffled ring at some point.
Even in convocation speeches, universities will still ask for money.
Bagpipers are always funny-looking in pictures. Sorry, dudes.
Beyond all of this, it was pretty nice. Not too long, and afterward we took some cheesy pictures and drank lots of wine (ok, *I* drank lots of wine). Here we are at the reception:

And here is Ellen with one of my favourite music schoolers (former music schoolers now), Nick Davis (never just Nick, always Nick Davis):

I have about 20 pictures from Ellen's harp recital featuring Nick in that classy pose. I'm a huge fan. Ellen left today for Toronto; on Friday, she's playing Nick's wedding. Before she left she and her roommates moved into a brand new lovely apartment, and yesterday we did some cleaning and moving around while blasting Down At The Khyber. It inspired me to grab some new cleaning supplies and go to town at my place as well. I didn't, of course, but I totally plan to in a few minutes. I think that some of the new cleaners (biodegradable!) that I bought are the most exciting purchase of the past month. Does anyone else get excited about buying new things for cleaning? I don't know, I just find very few things as satisfying as a really clean and fresh new sponge or mop. Lovely!
...I need a job.
Happy Sunday!

WELL!

So. I guess I've been doing this for over a year, and I wasted my 1 year anniversary on a whiny rant. Well played, Victoria.
I still don't know what this whole thing is about. I thought that if I kept it up, eventually I'd come up with some sort of theme. I didn't. I think I'm okay with that. Random updates are pretty fun anyway, right guys?
I'm working tonight, at the school bar again. I guess it's just "the bar" now. I usually save "the bar" for the bar down the street that I frequented nonstop when I first moved here, and still stop by occasionally, but I think the past year has bumped Reggie's up to #1. I keep having strange encounters with regulars I don't remember. Yesterday, for example, I went in to get my new phone pimped out (hey! I got a blackberry thanks to an amazing girl in Moncton and now I can't stop playing with it!) and after talking to the dude who was taking care of me for about 5 minutes he asked me if I was hitting up Reggie's tonight. Apparently he thought I remembered him, even though I was just being my ebullient (nice word, amirite?!) self. Then I felt kind of guilty. But he hooked me up with some sweet dealz, and I just promised that I'd buy him a drink sometime.
I keep accidentally deleting things on the phone, but now I'm starting to get the hang of it. I've progressed to adding music and playlists on there, so when I'm heading downtown or out somewhere with a specific purpose and probably just want some music for the metro ride I don't need to bring an iPod with me. Convenient!
The shitty side to working tonight is that I'm missing out on Joel Plaskett. I looooove JP shows, and an old close friend plays in his band, and I was super looking forward to this show. Unfortunately, my desperate financial situation has warranted choosing work over funtimes. I think we're still meeting up for dinner and/or breakfast tomorrow morning, but there's nothing like listening to a crowd singing along to True Patriot Love, Down at the Khyber, or Love This Town in Halifax. There aren't many times when I really miss that city, but listening to that song along with a few hundred displaced Maritimers and superfans is one of them. I think it's probably a lot like hearing One Great City! in Winnipeg. Except, you know, less ironic. I think I have a soft spot for JP because my first real relationship started with glances at each other at a couple of his shows, and the next few years included a lot of stupid inside jokes about Joel and his songs. And, of course, many more shows. He's an artist that I will always associate with one person, which really sucked when we broke up (ahem, each and every time we broke up) but mostly just leaves me with fond memories now.
I'm doing laundry for the first time since I came back from Moncton. I feel like a bit of a dirtbag. I really want to wear my new green-with-white-polka-dots summery halter top to work, but I think I need to fight that urge. First, I'd probably spill shit all over it. Second, it's a little ridiculous looking and the only way I think it'll really work on me is with a pair of denim capris and silly heels. I can't pull these things off. I buy lovely clothes sometimes, and then realize that most of them just plain don't suit me. Ah well, a sale is a sale and I'll find somewhere to wear it. When the mood strikes, and it's something do-able (i.e. I'm going somewhere that does not require me to bend over constantly) it's nice to have interesting clothing. I'll let you know if such occasions ever actually occur.
For now, here's a little of what most of us are missing tonight. I'm going to fold, and then try on 5 or 6 shirts and end up going with the first one.

An open letter

Dear Montreal,

I know we've had our bad days. Sometimes you hide under a metre of snow, making it incredibly difficult to move around. Then there are the days when you just get covered in ice, making sure that unless one is wearing ice skates it is impossible to go down a city block without falling on your ass. The summers - oh, the summers! - with the sun beating down, and 40 degrees! It has always fascinated me, the way the temperatures bounce around. And the way that in the winter, the city seems like a wind tunnel, but as soon as it tops 33 there's not a breeze in the air.
I don't mean to complain, Montreal. Far from it. I want you to know that even through the bad, you've stuck by me. On those days when it seems like nothing can improve, somehow you manage to make it up to me. Someone tried to hit you in the crosswalk, you were elbowed three times when walking down the street, and some guy felt you up on the metro? Here's a $20 flapping in the gutter! You can barely breathe because of the intense humidity and smog out on that terrasse (because you don't believe in patios)? Whoops, your waitress forgot to charge you for that last round. And your depanneurs! Why, beer and incredibly cheap wine in the same place you buy lottery tickets and cheese curds at the counter? Brilliant. Just brilliant.
What I'm saying, really, is that even though I may roll my eyes upward and curse your name sometimes, I want you to know that I do love you. Really, I do. Your diverse neighborhoods and ethic food stores keep me satisfied day-to-day, but it's your heart that will keep me here.