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Thursday, May 10, 2007
The Past Revived
Dan and I have been meaning to fill out immigration forms for nigh on a year now, but we're making progress (motivated by job searching) which is good news. In looking at forms I realized that we've never celebrated our anniversary, which is sorta strange. How then could I know when we first started going out?
Simple: the blog. So this l'il web diary is useful in more ways than simply giving my a soapbox. Chronicle of our lives indeed.
July 21, 2004. It's been nearly 3 years. Weird!
Simple: the blog. So this l'il web diary is useful in more ways than simply giving my a soapbox. Chronicle of our lives indeed.
July 21, 2004. It's been nearly 3 years. Weird!
# posted by Spot @ 2:11 PM
1 comments
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Name That Judge!
It shouldn't be hard: she kicks ass, and is so absolutely adorable in those santa clause robes the Supreme Court wears.
See those smiles? Those are smile of relief. Woot! No more mooting!
See those smiles? Those are smile of relief. Woot! No more mooting!
# posted by Spot @ 10:46 PM
0 comments
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Someday I would like to figure out what it is about being here that makes me feel so good. It's not just the warm, fuzzy, soft-but-not-too-soft couches. Though they help, don't get me wrong.
And it's not just Montreal, with it's lust for life, availability of anything, and pencil-thin-girls in pencil-thin-heels. (The girls made me feel inadequate, until all my friends commented about how in shape I am. Now I feel flirtatious).
Rather, it's the peeps. The Arran, Jesse, Jen, Derrick, Rux, Palma, Tom, Jesse (again) loveliness. Writing to my sister made me realize that Arran and I are close. Like sisters close. (Though, Emilie, you can rest assured that nothing can replace years of watching me try - and fail - to dance). Of course "like sisters" might not mean as much coming from someone who will avoid talking on the phone at all costs. Like sisters when in town. Like estranged when not. Meep.
But, speaking of pencil-thin-girls and flirtations...
So I'm in the Provigo on Parc street, just a few steps from Arran's. And, because I'm so close and the weather is inexplicably nice, I go out wearing my ancient comfy knit sweater, my Fry boots, a cream scarf carelessly flung around my shoulders and, yes, wollen mittens. It didn't occur to me that this might tap the sartorialist appetites of the McGill grocery crowd. That this get up = cute. So I was very pleasantly surprised when, whilst foraging for sesame sauce (never found, by the way neither in the grocery store nor in Arran's fridge - I am not bright).. anyway, whilst foraging for this sauce, I catch a pleasantly hebraic undergrad scoping me out.
Oh, what's this then? I meander along the sauce aisle as said kid and his roomate try to determine what goes into tacos, then make my way to milk. To encounter kid there, casually perusing diary.
Ah ha. It's been so long since I've been scoped out, I'd forgotten how good it feels. Glowy all day. Ah, McGill. It's like one vast speed dating service.
Which makes me miss Dan quite a bit, actually. One of the best parts of going away is coming back again.
And it's not just Montreal, with it's lust for life, availability of anything, and pencil-thin-girls in pencil-thin-heels. (The girls made me feel inadequate, until all my friends commented about how in shape I am. Now I feel flirtatious).
Rather, it's the peeps. The Arran, Jesse, Jen, Derrick, Rux, Palma, Tom, Jesse (again) loveliness. Writing to my sister made me realize that Arran and I are close. Like sisters close. (Though, Emilie, you can rest assured that nothing can replace years of watching me try - and fail - to dance). Of course "like sisters" might not mean as much coming from someone who will avoid talking on the phone at all costs. Like sisters when in town. Like estranged when not. Meep.
But, speaking of pencil-thin-girls and flirtations...
So I'm in the Provigo on Parc street, just a few steps from Arran's. And, because I'm so close and the weather is inexplicably nice, I go out wearing my ancient comfy knit sweater, my Fry boots, a cream scarf carelessly flung around my shoulders and, yes, wollen mittens. It didn't occur to me that this might tap the sartorialist appetites of the McGill grocery crowd. That this get up = cute. So I was very pleasantly surprised when, whilst foraging for sesame sauce (never found, by the way neither in the grocery store nor in Arran's fridge - I am not bright).. anyway, whilst foraging for this sauce, I catch a pleasantly hebraic undergrad scoping me out.
Oh, what's this then? I meander along the sauce aisle as said kid and his roomate try to determine what goes into tacos, then make my way to milk. To encounter kid there, casually perusing diary.
Ah ha. It's been so long since I've been scoped out, I'd forgotten how good it feels. Glowy all day. Ah, McGill. It's like one vast speed dating service.
Which makes me miss Dan quite a bit, actually. One of the best parts of going away is coming back again.
# posted by Spot @ 3:01 PM
0 comments
Monday, February 26, 2007
My Favourite Mistake
It's over! The excitement / dread / pandemonium of mooting. My latest (and last) moot is done. And I've decided it was my favourite mistake of the year.
Favourite because I was able to go to Ottawa and visit the Vimy guides, thereby enjoying an excellent reunion. Also, Sara is engaged! Woot!
[Mistake because French is HARD. Legal French very. But I steeeel dee-liver eet een a verry sexy ac-cent]
And now I'm in Montreal, with Arran, and all is right again. Bagels, mmm.
Next post: life as a criminal prosecutor = hours of fun
Favourite because I was able to go to Ottawa and visit the Vimy guides, thereby enjoying an excellent reunion. Also, Sara is engaged! Woot!
[Mistake because French is HARD. Legal French very. But I steeeel dee-liver eet een a verry sexy ac-cent]
And now I'm in Montreal, with Arran, and all is right again. Bagels, mmm.
Next post: life as a criminal prosecutor = hours of fun
# posted by Spot @ 6:00 PM
0 comments
Thursday, November 30, 2006
New Comments Have Posts!
Well, I've migrated to the Blogger Beta. And, quite frankly, this is a test of whether the new posts actually will have comments, or if I will have to tinker with the decidedly non-blogger template.
(which I don't think I'm ever going to want to change: it could be better, but I love that look. To be frank, it's the closest I've ever come to a picture of the best moment of my life. Do you know your moment? I think this might be something people don't think enough about, but I know mine. Swinging out, over the water, sailing. Finally learning how to trapeze.)
Augh! Exams! No time to sleep, let alone write...
(which I don't think I'm ever going to want to change: it could be better, but I love that look. To be frank, it's the closest I've ever come to a picture of the best moment of my life. Do you know your moment? I think this might be something people don't think enough about, but I know mine. Swinging out, over the water, sailing. Finally learning how to trapeze.)
Augh! Exams! No time to sleep, let alone write...
# posted by Spot @ 8:15 PM
0 comments
Friday, November 17, 2006
Ever Wonder....
There's this line in Hannibal where Clarisse Starling says
Not that I knew where your premises is. Or is it, where your premises are?Wonder no longer. Aww yeah, grammar is cool.
# posted by Spot @ 11:55 AM
0 comments
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
When I Wrote Graffiti My Name Was Spot
While I was getting my hair cut [during my clandestine visit to Montreal, to be kept especially secret from Jesse Gainer on pain of hurting his feelings... oh wait.. damn]
Anyway, while I was getting my hair cut I attempted an almost-not-awkward conversation in French with my hair-cutting lady, and she confided something that was an overwhelming relief of "Oh wow, I'm not the only person who does this"
She was saying that on an especially slow day like, say, Sunday, she and her co-worker would listen to the silly radio and imagine music videos to music. Little stories that go with the song, but completely new. Specifically unlike any music videos that the song might already have.
Intergalactic makes me imagine a break dancing competition between section A and C, with B the acknowledged master. Weird.
I'm sorry Jesse: I know this makes me an ass, not calling you. I hope you won't hold it against me. Actually, I hope you know what I mean when I say it wasn't an outgoing visit. I needed a fix of Arrany goodness. . . desperately. Hard to do with another crew.
Hmm, this probably isn't the only apology I'll have to make in connection with this trip. Although I hitched a ride with the SHSH team, I was conspicuously absent during the two tournaments they attended. No coaching or judging from yours truly...
And there's the family. Once I realized that they would inevitably learn I was in town, I had to call, but there's no such thing as a short family visit. I left after 5 hours, and they would've wanted me to stay 'till supper.
So everyone's a little pissed. Sign of a good compromise.
I'm booting Dan's post to the top again: it's a funny engine...
Anyway, while I was getting my hair cut I attempted an almost-not-awkward conversation in French with my hair-cutting lady, and she confided something that was an overwhelming relief of "Oh wow, I'm not the only person who does this"
She was saying that on an especially slow day like, say, Sunday, she and her co-worker would listen to the silly radio and imagine music videos to music. Little stories that go with the song, but completely new. Specifically unlike any music videos that the song might already have.
Intergalactic makes me imagine a break dancing competition between section A and C, with B the acknowledged master. Weird.
I'm sorry Jesse: I know this makes me an ass, not calling you. I hope you won't hold it against me. Actually, I hope you know what I mean when I say it wasn't an outgoing visit. I needed a fix of Arrany goodness. . . desperately. Hard to do with another crew.
Hmm, this probably isn't the only apology I'll have to make in connection with this trip. Although I hitched a ride with the SHSH team, I was conspicuously absent during the two tournaments they attended. No coaching or judging from yours truly...
And there's the family. Once I realized that they would inevitably learn I was in town, I had to call, but there's no such thing as a short family visit. I left after 5 hours, and they would've wanted me to stay 'till supper.
So everyone's a little pissed. Sign of a good compromise.
I'm booting Dan's post to the top again: it's a funny engine...
# posted by Spot @ 5:49 PM
0 comments
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