Travelling

It feels like without pictures, this post may be premature. But meh, whatever. Skip it if you want to wait for the pictures.

So far, I seem to have lost some sense. Both my lovely oh-so-fabulously-montreal tweed jacket and tweed hat are in Halifax. Where they are not making me look stylish at all. But maybe someone at the rental place is sporting a very jaunty chapeau.

The cabins were fucking amazing. Fucking. Amazing. I got up before everyone else yesterday morning and shivered as the sun rose over the Atlantic. I sat watching the water, drinking coffee. My friends convinced me that playing Pictionary was a good idea - see how much I love them - and then Chris astounded me by guessing "pry" after I drew a spatula, a freezer and two arrows. We must have had some kind of mind meld in library school for that to be possible.

Montreal, is, well, Montreal. It is exciting and urban and decaying and beautiful and full of stylish gorgeous sexy peopl. And it has been a successful shopping trip. I have new tall boots, which I don't love, but do quite like. And the owner of the store - who was SMOKING WHILE WE SHOPPED, the motherfucker, and probably cranky enough to butt it out in my bag if I complained - told me that Mink Oil is a ripoff and I should be using vaseline. Because then if any of my friends asked why I had vaseline on my side table, I could tell them it was for my shoes. This totally confused me until I realized that he said it with kind of a leer and meant that I would actually be using it as a lube. Then I recoiled. Vaseline as a lube? I can't even joke about that.

Tonight the Chris and I are going to a burlesque show that her friend Steven is in, which looks very gay (queer) and gay (happy fun). Before that, we meet my mom and sister for coffee.

Tomorrow? Well, tomorrow is the day that I get my sniffer tested. So lots of goodies for you when I get back.