On being Energetic...

Sometimes, I like to stay up, and out, until the sun is shining bright in the clear blue sky and I know that I've had just about as much fun as I could possibly have. Like Friday. And Saturday. I am usually the one saying "no way, I refuse to believe it's XX:XX am! Come on, it's sooo early!"

I feel bad for everyone that had a boring, run-of-the-mill weekend when I had all this love around me, and the Energetic part of me was rolling in it like a pig in mud.

First, on Friday, when I should have been resting up for what was coming on Saturday, I biked and danced along the streets of the Plateau with a troupe of beautiful young innocents who would never want to hurt a soul. Saw a guy I recognized outside a 99 cent slice pizza place and asked him if his name was Patrick. It was. He was the guy that opened for The Stills when I saw them at Club Soda, Patrick Watson.

But highest on my list of memorable events was an awesome conversation at Korova with my friend Button. There is nothing more reassuring than knowing that, on issues that have taken up much of your time and mental energy, your friends agree with you. Sweet.

On Saturday I was awoken by a well intentioned call from my dad on my cell. When I hung up I wanted to throw the phone on the armchair andget back in bed, but I ended up throwing it against the wall, because that's how little restorative sleep I had had. Needed to get up anyway, take the bride's dress to her hotel room, get my hair done, my nails done, drain my bank account and whatnot.

My cameras were stolen from my apartment recently and I forgot to buy a disposable so I have no pictures of my own of the wedding. It was awesome. What a ceremony! Everyone was crying, the girls were passing around a used hanky to dab our eyes while Anna married Fred in two languages. Again, the reassurance of being there when two people who have known each other since puberty do this thing in front of a bunch of other people who have mostly known them just as long or longer, is beautiful.

And that was my second most memorable moment: Jen's husband Mark restoring my faith in faith, in the existence of love and good coincidences. I cannot smile enough. It was like someone was showing me something that I always knew was there, this place that I used to live in but that I left a long time ago because I was young and hurt and I wanted to run away. I thought this place had ceased to exist without me, but it turns out it's alive and well if you believe Mark about it. And trust me, you believe Mark when he tells it.

Saturday turns into Sunday and weddings and me in tight dresses do strange things to cute boys. I want to declare myself innocent. Like I said to my friend Shane a lot earlier this morning, in my journeys I have found that men and women often overestimate each other. We women think that men know what they're doing, but they don't. And you men think that we women know what we're doing, but we don't. One of the two probably needs to tell the other that.

On an on-going quest for meaningful communication, more of this love stuff, and not too many vodka tonics if possible, I leave you with The Stills:

don't be afraid to be afraid here with me
and plunge
little worm
into the worm-hole with me.

ok, ok

I have more positive things to say (than in the earlier post below).

Like it's Anna&Fred's wedding this Saturday!! YAY! I'm dying to see what it's like, I have no idea what they've planned. Love surprises. Good thing they're not getting married in a church because that's the part where I get waaay more nervous than the bride and start grinding my teeth.

Check this out! http://www.brokenflowersmovie.com/ Can't get enough of Bill Murray. He's like: hope for the doomed.

MoWest Vibe

Man, even when I have nothing to say, my fingers are just itching to write about something. What the hell is wrong with me? Incontinencia brinckiana, bien dicho Gonzalo.

So my headache is gone (for now). Yoga did the trick, old trustworthy and sweaty activity. I might say a lot of stuff about inspired discoveries regarding self-imposed anxiety and how this all links back to the documentary on super spellers, Spellbound, but I'm not feeling very ...ahem...smart today so I won't.

After yoga the bunch of us went to sprawl around Jeanne Mance Park in the dark and then made it to Maison Thai before closing for some scrumptious samosas! We were riding our bikes and I felt like I was 10 years old again and any second someone was going to say "let's go to Mini-Cout and buy more candy and not do ANYTHING because it's the middle of summer and we have nothing to do until September!"

Nostalgia efect -of the happy variety, thankfully- probably compounded by the fact that the day before I'd gone to the Montreal West pool for a nanosecond and then walked down my *favourite street in the whole world* to see if the Paradis were home but they weren't.

Why would anyone say anything bad about MoWest? See, the only bad thing I can think of... is, um, when people who NEVER SEE YOU start saying stuff about your life. I suppose this is precisely the type of thing I shouldn't write about in a blog. All I'm saying, and just to get it off my handsome chest, is that there may be one or two people from that small place who I'd like to call up and ask "hey, so, how's my love life lately? I hear you know all about it." Geez-us.

Fickle

Screw this. Why *shouldn't* I tell a bunch of stangers about the mundane, self-centered stuff that goes on in my life, eh?

Yeah, I've been reading a bunch of other Montreal blogs, and please. They're quite good. So why shouldn't I be one of them? What's my other option? Shall I got to the Bifteck and get drunk and slouch over the bar saying "I used to be number 7, you know? That's right! I was the sevennss besstest blog -hic!- in this craaazy city". Meh.

Plus I have this killer headache that I know I can't get rid of and I'm thinking a little spewing of intimacies on the web might be JUST the cure!

The only thing is, I've got to make sure I don't repeat the past. That is, this is no longer a supposed personal blog to keep my friends in Chile up to date on my life because you know what? Doesn't work. Para eso seguirán recibiendo mis mails masivos, con información *super exclusiva adicional!* This has got to be unabashedly public. I have no idea how to spell unabashedly, but I can pronounce it!

So what's new, chickies? New is the Metropolitan poster I've currently got the winning bid on on Ebay. I love that movie so much. Do you know that the poster I'm bidding on costs, like, US$50 on some movie poster site, but I'm getting it for only US$15 on Ebay. Gonna frame it and everything. So cool, so prep.

Peeps, this summer has contained the most awesomest weather ever, hasn't it? It's so hard to be unhappy when the days are perfect and sunny and HOT. I mean, don't get me wrong, I am trying VERY HARD to be unhappy. I told you, my head hurts A LOT, and it probably won't stop hurting for a while because it's a psychosomatic thing, you know? Physical pain to drive home the other kind. But whatev. Just cuz I don't sleep well anymore and I have a couple of bricks pressing down on my chest all day and I feel like I'm at the bottom of a closed box, doesn't mean I can't appreciate the fine, fine weather, does it now? Nah.

Other cuasi-worthwhile things to talk about today? I hosted a picnic for some friends over here at Lafontaine Park, behind my house. No one knew anyone else except me. That has got to be my favourite kind of social interaction experiment. If you can get over your social anxiety and talk to strangers, just because they are friends of mine, than you may be a friend of mine. That deserves some respect.

Hey, I just won my Metropolitan poster! Awesome!

My head still hurts. Would you mind just making it STOP?

Shade of Blue: Breaking my Promises

Although, technically I did say the break was "indefinite", right? so that's not a "never" but my INTENTION was "never", but since I rarely say what I mean, I'm obviously counting this discrepancy in my favour. What else is new. Anyway, the reason I'm breaking vow of silence is to tell you this:

Why Montreal is the Most Awesomest City Ever

fifteen minutes ago I left my house in a somewhat poopy mood, shades of blue by the black rebel motorcycle club in my head, almost slipping down that slope of "what did I do wrong" idiocity, when out of the dep a few blocks from my house I see the handsomest delivery guy ever, wheeling a dolly out. Beautiful tan skin, dark blue eyes and spiky but un-geled dark brown hair.

-Bonjour mademoiselle, ca va bien?

-Oui, merci, I said, walking past him, looking kind of at the ground.

-C'est une belle journee, n'est pas?

-Oui. I already had by back to him and kept walking.

-Vous aussi vous etes belle.

-Merci.

Smile!

And then, to complete the happy cycle, a block later there was a cute busker sitting on the ground in front of a restaurant and he looked up and gave me a "bonjour mademoiselle" aussi.

Although I may be sick and tired of the predominance of looks as a reason for thinking you like people... I definitely give full props to these boys and their "bonjour mademoiselles". Treating me like a lady, you are making my day.