Friday, May 25, 2007

There's a Limit to Your Love

Wow. It's been a while. I've been here. I've been around. I've read other people's blogs (all up to date) and maintained my Facebook habit. But you know when you're just out *there*, enjoying every little thing, so that you don't even want to come in and type on the computer? I have junkie's remorse, for sure, but it's just not powerful enough to rein me in.

Anyway, I have wanted to share some music with everyone, but I know it's a bit of a pain for some to open this page when I upload an mp3. Instead, I thought about copying the lyrics to a song from one of the newest albums in my collection, Feist's "Reminder". I hesitated because I'm often guilty of sending coded messages... or not so coded, but this is just a song whose lyrics I read in the liner notes before I even bought the CD and I just thought they were perfect.

The Limit To Your Love - Feist

Clouds part
Just to give us a little sun

There's a limit to your love
Like a waterfall in slow motion
Like a map with no ocean
There's a limit to your love

There's a limit to your love
So carelessly there
Is it truth or dare?
There's a limit to your care

I love I love I love
This dream of going upstream
I love I love I loveThe trouble that you give me
I know I know I know
That only I can save me
I'll go I'll go I'll go
Right down the road

There's a limit to your love
Like a waterfall in slow motion
Like a map with no ocean
There's a limit to your love
Your love your love your love

I can't read your smile
It should be written on your face
I'm piecing it together
There's something out of place
Oh

I love I love I love
This dream of going upstreamI love I love I love
All the trouble that you give me
I know I know I know
That only I can save me
I'll go I'll go I'll go
Out on the road

Because there is no limit
There's no limit
No limit no limit no limit to my love

Go to www.listentofeist.com to hear some of her new and old songs.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Recommendations

One of these is for Canadian residents and the other is for Montreal residents.

When applying for a new passport: I cannot emphasize enough how much it will benefit you to fill out the application online. You may feel a bit daunted when you arrive at the passport office to find a line just to get in the elevator and a sign saying something like "1:30 hour wait upstairs" but if you did everything else right (like your guarantor's part, and any additional forms you need to fill based on your situation), your online application will get you in an extremely accelarated "line" (numbers, really). It's gult-free line-cutting and you will love it.

When buying jeans: go to Jeans, Jeans, Jeans, on St. Viateur and de Gaspé in Mile End. They have men's and women's. I cannot emphasize enough how good the service is there. You may have no idea what you want and be shopping-averse, but they will get you into a pair of hot jeans that you'll love. The staff won't be pushy and they won't be judgemental. They'll do your hem in 3 minutes, for free. Best of all, the jeans are cheap! I tried on pairs from all kinds of brands, including Guess and Seven and none of them were over $70. [note to men and women who don't shop for jeans: a woman's pair of low-end design jeans can easily cost $200]. But best, best, best of all: the button on mine was a little loose and came off after a week. I took them back and got a new pair, hemmed, no hassle, and an apology. I love them! You'll love them!

Friday, May 11, 2007

Thecthy Boy

El domingo en la noche fui con dos amigas a Metropolis a ver la banda francesa Air. No fue de nuestros recitales favoritos... un poco frios ellos, pero asi han sido siempre. Una de las cosas que me gusta ver cuando voy a un concierto de musica en vivo es *como* produjeron el sonido. O sea, me gusta ver el guitarreo, o a la cantante de fondo, a todos los musicos, etc. Pero el duo Air es tan egocentrico que ellos estaban, vestidos de blanco con sus pantaloncitos apretados, iluminados mientras que los demas musicos estaban en la oscuridad. Y segun la Cecilia habia un monton de sonido pregrabado.

Pero el punto para mi no era complemente ese. Air fue y sera para mi una de las bandas, junto con Coldplay, que marco una epoca para mi y mis amigos, en ese departamento de Ramon Carnicer donde todo se armo y se desarmo en el cambio de siglo. Escuchando "Sexy Boy" (que el domingo se oyo como "thecthy boy" por los parlantes) y Carlos jurando que se trataba de el. Si alguna vez termino por escribir esa novela, va a ser de esos anyos, de ese departamento y de esa gente, escuchando esa musica y creyendo que todo se trataba de nosotros.

***

Hay un comentario en mi ultimo post (Good luck/bad luck) acerca de un libro que parece que salio recientemente sobre el vuelo del 29 de febrero de 1996 de la aerolinea peruana Faucett, en el que murio mi gran amiga Sole Novales. El autor del comentario me encontro por un sitio en Internet donde hace todos esos anyos atras escribi una pequena despedida a la Sole. Me sorprendio recibir un mensaje con el nombre de ella.

Me acuerdo con cierta frecuencia de la Sole, por esto o lo otro, pero justo ayer le hable de ella a una amiga que esta pasando por un momento dificil. Y esta manana saque mi ropa de primavera-verano de la maleta donde la guardo en invierno y me encontre con la camisa verda de la Sole que es lo unico suyo que tengo y que uso en homenaje. Me gusta usar cosas de otros como recuerdo, como los bluyines de Juan Luis o el polar que me dio la Gaby cuando me vine a Canada. Es tener a la gente un poco mas cerca. Incluso aquella que nunca volveremos a ver.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Good luck/Bad luck

Technically, I don’t believe in luck. I don’t believe in magic, destiny, things being a “sign” or “for a reason” in some grander scheme. I believe the saying is “shit happens”. Of course, once it does, I do think it’s appropriate to put it into some context in your life to either gain knowledge or make yourself feel better.

So what happened was: I was on a flight from San Antonio to Montreal yesterday at noon. We got on the plane, but couldn’t take off due to mechanical issues that they expected to resolve within 10-15 minutes. Apparently, because the plane couldn’t be started, there couldn’t be any air on it, so it began to get very hot in there. Also, I was sitting next to a mother with a baby who was probably on her last flight before she is obliged to sit in her own seat. The warmer it got, the more the baby shrieked. Eventually the crew allowed the passengers to deplane, I think they call it, but asked that people stay close by because we could be leaving at any moment. I chose to stay on the sauna-plane where I figured there was more peace and quiet than in the terminal. One of the flight attendants passed around glasses of water. I closed my eyes and acted like I do in any warm, humid weather situation: trying to move as little as possible and soak in it. I fanned myself with the emergency landing procedures.

Sometime later the other passengers returned and we were told we’d finally be able to take off. We were pushed back onto the tarmac. We waited. The baby started to get tired and irritated and screamed and threw her arms and head and body around while her mom tried to keep her in her lap. Then… the engines went off. Obviously, we weren’t going anywhere soon.

The plane returned to the gate and everyone was told to get off since we would need at least half an hour to fix this valve thing. Three hours had passed since our intended departure time. Inside the terminal, I couldn’t get an Internet connection. I was already not too happy to be traveling alone, but this situation just made me feel even more isolated. I didn’t bring my cell phone and when I thought about getting a calling card, I didn’t know who to call, or how they would contact me back. Lonely. I think I’m reconsidering my whole fun-with-being-alone attitude. Sometimes other people are a really comforting presence. After wandering around the terminal looking for an Internet connection and studying the payphones, while trying not to take too long in case our flight re-boarded, I sat down next to a man who turned out to be an exhibitor at the convention I was working at. He was very friendly, but in a good way, haha. I mean, he was pleasant and not too nosy or annoying. He was considerate enough to tell me that it was ok if I wanted to just be alone (in my frustration, I guess) but it was actually a relief to have someone take my mind off the whole situation. His attitude was understanding (he was in the same boat, after all) but relaxed. He lent me his Blackberry and we shared the information we overheard. We had a laugh at all the people that get really hopping mad at the agents and don’t get what they want anyway. Turned out, Mr. Exhibitor also does yoga twice a week. We thought if only we could find a drop-in class we would feel a lot better.

Eventually the flight was cancelled and after standing in a couple of lines, I was put on an early morning flight on another airline. I said goodbye to Mr. Exhibitor and went back to my gang in San Antonio and had a fun and turbulent night out. All I had to eat that day was a banana and half a slice of pizza. Why is it that abnormal circumstances can make bodily functions like hunger just disappear? I also knew I wouldn’t be tired for my flight today, even if I slept only 4 and a half hours (memories of FIGO, anyone?).

Well. Today’s ordeal was quite different. As I was getting ready to leave the hotel room I realized I lost my passport and had no idea where I left it. I assumed it was somewhere in the airport since I remember taking it out at security and I probably had to show it to some agent at some point. As it turns out, no one at this airport has my passport and it’s just nowhere to be found. Equals: I lost my passport, and therefore cannot fly into Canada. Yeah, seriously.

On the positive side, I managed to find a wireless Internet connection (I may still be alone but at least I’m connected to the outside world now) and was able to look up our government’s emergency number. To be honest, they weren’t a big help. I had already come up with a plan of my own, changing my flight to Burlington from where I hope to drive home. The government agent, however, could only suggest contacting the Canadian Consulate in Dallas (ie Monday) and waiting in Texas one week until I could get a new passport issued. Yeah, thanks, I think flying to the border and driving will work out better, don’t you?

Thanks to the Internet connection, I was also able to reserve a rental car in Burlington and confirm with my supervisor that those expenses will be paid for by the company. Thanks to the magic of credit cards, I don’t have to worry about where the money is coming from. Thanks to my new mp3 player, I can entertain and soothe my troubled soul.

My soul did a little bursting in front of a ticket agent here at the airport, when I wasn’t sure she would be able to change my flight to Burlington. I had felt the tears coming before, after confirming with the check-in agents, the airport police and TSA that no one had my passport, and had told myself not to cry, but I just couldn’t keep it in when I had to explain to this woman why I *really* needed to be in Burlington. The weight of “I’ve lost my passport and can’t fly home without it; please help me” really hit me over the head.

At one point I sank pretty low and was wondering why this was happening. Those are the times I seriously wish I didn’t even exist, but ultimately my belief is that it isn’t happening for any reason at all. It just is and best to focus on situation-management than feeling sorry for myself.

I keep thinking how lucky I am that the requirement for passports at land crossings isn’t in effect yet. So does that count as good luck? Or bad luck? And does it really affect the fact that I’ll be on the long road home for about 19 hours today? And doesn’t that travel time sound all too familiar (see my earlier account of my trip with Karine to Denver). Is the travel industry improving their service or is it worsening? Do I want to keep doing this?

 
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