Le Pick Up

I would like to take a moment to sing the praises of Depanneur Le Pick Up.

Located just a few blocks from my studio, I use their tasty coffee as a bribe to get my ass out of the apartment and get printing. I usually peruse their day-old cookie selection as well, but for those of you who aren't unemployed, they do also make amazing (and reasonable priced) sandwiches. I have it on good authority that the haloumi grilled cheese is where it's at.

The last time I was by, I noticed that they now sell super adorable tote bags in two sizes, $3.00 for the small one in the picture. Only $3.00! I had to buy one, unemployed or not. It's the perfect size for all of my French books.

And, even if you're weird and don't love amazing food, they have a great selection of local zines and art mags, and host art events.

I know it's across the tracks, but it's totally worth it. Check. It. Out.

désolé!

Apologies for the lack of posts lately. Amidst the Christmas chaos, I managed to leave my camera USB cable at my brother's house in Calgary. And, my family being my family, my Brother sent it to Saskatoon for my Mom to mail to me, rather than sending it directly my way. I'm more like them than I would like to admit.

Once my cable is safely back in my hands, I can start uploading photos of Christmas, my beautiful niece, the amazing pizza J made on Saturday night, some new studio work...basically everything that's happened over the past few weeks. Life goes on, camera cable or no camera cable.

As another excuse, I've been taking intensive French classes since January 5th, because osmosis just wasn't working. More on that later, but holy moly, does it ever take up a chunk of time. And brain power.

I've been trying to think, speak, read, and watch everything in French lately, and it's starting to make me feel a bit fuzzy around the edges. Why, oh why, did my Mother not enroll me in French immersion when she had the chance? Or better yet, why, oh why, did I move to a French-speaking province? I'll never know.

À bientôt!

fake cat

Meet Chi-Panther, our fake cat.

J is highly allergic to cats, so there isn't any possibility of us ever owning one. I grew up with cats - or really, one cat - who died at the ripe old age of 19. I remember that because when Tigger died, I was 20. Being one year apart, we had been pretty much grown up together.

Once you've grown up with a pet, it's really hard to get used to life without one. Lately, I've been feeling this absence even more, perhaps because I'm starting to feel more (gasp) settled than I've been for years.

So, given that we can't get a cat, I like to invite our fake cat, chi-chi, over for the afternoon when he gets locked out. I adore this cat. He's slightly more dog than cat, a little bit runty, and always wanting to play. He's a great companion, and I'm slightly jealous that he doesn't belong to me.

We hope to get a dog sometime this summer, for which I cannot wait. It will be nice to no longer have to resort to borrowing the neighbor's cat when I'm feeling pet-lonely. I can't imagine not having (or wanting) a pet. I really, really just don't get it.

2010

Christmas Day, 2006

The holidays are officially over, and I'm back in Montreal. It's strange to be back after nearly two and a half weeks of visiting, eating and lounging around on my Mom's amazingly comfy sofa, watching marathon after marathon on the Food Network. Despite my relentless television watching (seriously, I will watch anything), the holidays are always busy for me. This is especially the case now that I have a seven month old niece in the mix. My time is divided between three sets of parents, my brother and his family, J's sister and brother-in-law (and their three labrador retrievers) and any friends that can manage to sneak into the mix. It's always slightly exhausting in a good way, but it's nice to be home.

The above photo was taken on Christmas Day, 2006, in London, England. Me, J, and L spent the day with friends, and with each other, which felt about as close to family as you can get. I remember feeling incredibly sorry for myself and at the same time incredibly fortunate to be able to spend the day in the company of these two. As time goes on, you realize just how wonderful those moments are.

The past decade has been a crazy, amazing one. I graduated from University, traveled across Germany for a month with L, met another old friend - J - who became the man of my dreams, moved in with the man of my dreams, broke up with the man of my dreams, traveled as far as I possibly could for as long as I could, lived in three countries and a countless number of apartments, had some amazing jobs, and some really, really shitty ones. I met some incredible people, and some really annoying ones. I lost three of my grandparents, and gained a beautiful niece. And now, I sit here, content to stay in Montreal for awhile, starting French classes tomorrow, and back - once again - with J, the man of my dreams.

Here's hoping that 2010 is full of challenges I can face, surprises better than I can imagine, and so much love that I can't stand it.

Happy New Year.