glimpses of weirdness

Today I saw a dog that looks like a goat, a homeless guy sitting with a pet chicken on his arm, and a man with a white biker moustache and a boina (Basque hat). We're going to have to start a "People of San Sebastian" website.

moves and changes, comme d'habitude

Well, folks, the verdict is in -- I've been accepted into the program at the Monterey Institute. I'm still not sure what that really means or entails - I just found out a half hour ago -, but what I suppose it means is that I will be starting another Masters in September, this time in translation and interpretation. It will also mean that I will be living in California for two years and that if I pass, I will be accredited by one of the world leaders in this field! Yeee... gads!

This is the school's website, in case you're curious: http://www.miis.edu/

It kind of looks like something that Daniela would attend instead of me.... ;)

Right now I have all this nervous energy that I wish I could run off, but it's flipping cold outside and I don't want to kill myself. It's actually cold in here... I blame the fact that Raúl has cracked open the window in the kitchen permanently in order to pass his internet cable outside and into his room so he can play videogames online. Siiiiiigh.

So yeah... I have three days left of teaching before I can leave for Barcelona, and finally Toronto. It's getting close.

Back to the Masters thing - does anyone else think the same way when they apply to things? Basically I figure that if I apply to something and I don't get in, that means that I am not good enough for anything, really; but if I apply and get in, that means that either A. there was no competition, B. they fucked up and made a mistake, or C. the program actually sucks and is desperate for applicants.

Holy bad attitude, or what? I mean - it's not that I think I totally suck. But when you do an application for something you start realizing how many weaknesses you really have, and you have no way of knowing how you're going to compare to anyone else. But I suppose most people are their own worst critics - right?

Anyway - although I'm not really feeling it right now, this is kind of a big deal for me, just so y'all know. Back in my undergraduate years I think I mentioned I might like to become a translator or some such thing, and my aunt (who is a language and lit professor in Alberta and whom I highly respect and admire) sent me the link for this school, because she'd heard it was the best in said area. I sort of kept it in my mind as my dream school - it just looks friggin' awesome, in every way. And so... yeah! Basically I planned on coming here and improving my Spanish again so that eventually I could go to this dream school - and then in November I just figured what the hell, I may as well try and apply this year, I don't have anything to lose!

I guess also at that point I was kind of dissatisfied with the whole "improving my Spanish" idea without having something to really work towards. My dear friend Amit has cautioned me to not worry so much about making plans for the future, but year-by-year plans has pretty much been what I've done since undergraduate. Us young'uns seem to always be caught between the career-driven path and the taking-it-easy path - I don't want to just fritter away my time without working towards something, but I also want to experience different things.

Anyway, it's kind of crazy to be thinking about going to California in September when I just arrived here. But hopefully I will be able to have a great time in the six or more months I have left in Europe before moving once more to an unknown location. Goooooodness gracious me.

Thanks everyone for your support and if I don't write again before then - Merry Christmas! Have yourself some great holidays. I sure will give it a try. :)

y'a un, part deux

News in my life:

1. Sergio has certainly dolled up the bathroom. We've gone from my and Pablo's bare establishment to a space complete with air freshener/nightlight, mat, and two-tiered organizer - AND, he got a mug to put our toothbrushes and toothpaste in! How - lovely. :)

2. Another about Sergio - he got waxed up... and good. I got my legs waxed for the first time in my life less than a month ago - just did the calves, and MOTHER FUCKER did that hurt! Way more than I was expecting. Well, Sergio waltzes in one day and is like "Hey Laura, check it out, I got done today!" He lifts up his shirt and shows me his bare stomach and chest. I'm like ok, that must have hurt... is that all you got done?

Oh, no it wasn't. He also gets his entire legs WITH bikini wax done, along with back, armpits, and - you guessed it - arms. HOLY SHIT! Your whole frickin' BODY?!

I am NEVER doing that. Not that I have to do chest and back, and who does their arms, but still. I WOULD never do that.

3. I finally sent in my application to that school in California - Masters, translation & interpretation. I feel like it's utter crap; not getting my hopes up for it. Still, it would suck not to get it. Just be like stamping FAILURE across my forehead. So I'll keep y'all posted.

4. Upcoming weekend is a long one here - I'm supposed to see both Haruka and Jocelyne, and I think we're going to be in Barcelona, but details are still sketchy. In any case, I'm getting from Friday until Tuesday off - SWEET!

5. Christmas is getting close! This is what's happening for me: I'm flying out of Barcelona into LaGuardia on the 21st, staying over a night, flying up to Toronto on the 22nd, hanging out there until the 25th, then going with Ev to Connecticut, and leaving on the 31st back to Barcelona (sigh). A whirlwind tour of North America. I'm freaking excited about (maybe) going to see the Sound of Music before it ends its run. Also, I miss the TTC. Also, I have been really missing the sushi, but that's kind of abated right now because of the AWESOME homemade sushi I had at Aina's tonight. YAYYYYYYY SUSHIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No more news for now, over and out,

L.J.

of fibre and sugar

I have to comment a few things that are truly amazing. First off is being able to run along the Paseo Nuevo at night. It's so quiet, but so beautiful: no one around except for the odd straggler or fisherman; the breeze; the ocean at your side; the white beam of the lighthouse from the other side of the bay.

Another is just how truly gorgeous San Sebastian is. Every day I'm astonished again at how really beautiful it is, and every time it happens there's the realization that I barely ever take the time to really look. Especially at night: there's a striking church just across the street from me, but because I always walk right beside it, I never look up at it. But whenever I stretch in the plaza in front of it, I get to admire it. Another great view is available coming down from the gym where we climb; we walk down a hill looking over the bay, and at night it's absolutely stunning. Nighttime is just a great time to take a look around. The streets are empty, and there's no feeling of having to be somewhere stealing your time.

Thirdly, the greatness that makes up those All-Bran fibre stick things. You know, the extra fibre you put on top of your cereal or in your yogourt or whatever. When I first got here I bought some health-food-store replacement for it, and I was blown away by All-Bran when I got it again. Sooooo delicious. (You guys must think I'm a weirdo.)

Finally, how friggin' tasty those Reese's peanut butter cups are! You better believe that when Will's Halloween candy came, those were the first to go.

Uhhh... yes, the candy arrived today. And yes, all the peanut butter cups are gone. Get over it.

hair day

I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is I got my hair cut. The bad news is, I got my hair cut.

I finally gave in to the scratchy pleas of my hair and went for a haircut today. The good thing about Spain is that there are hair salons absolutely EVERYWHERE. The bad thing is that they are mostly high-class affairs - I have not seen Topcuts or anything resembling in all my scouting operations. This is why I never get my hair cut - I either don't know where to go, don't want to pay, or both. And then every time I go, the haircutter looks at me like I've been living in a cave, and lops off about half of it. If I could just find a decent place here!!!

Anyway, so I got a bunch chopped off today, too. I can't grow long hair to save my life, it seems. (I think the trick is to go frequently just for a trim. But I don't think they have such a thing as a special "trim" price, those schemers!) And so back to the good news/bad news thing. The bad news is, without my noticing, the stylist managed to turn my two layers into about fifteen, a.k.a. the Spanish Hair Cut. Oh yes! I am rocking that shaggy 'do. (Don't worry though, no mullet.) The good news is... it actually looks fierce (as Tyra Banks would say)! (I admit it, I've gone through five seasons of ANTM in the not-quite two months I've been here.) So although I'm back a couple steps, I'm pretty down with it. Yay! Hair.

y'a un... um...

Anyone ever hear that song, "Y'a une fille qu'habite chez moi"? Well, that's how I feel now that Sergio has moved in. It's like wow... I've never seen our kitchen so clean. Everything is organized and neatly put in place, the dishes are done, the table is cleared off... I go into the bathroom and there's a clean hand towel hanging beside the sink; the toilet paper has disappeared off the tank and is on the holder. I don't know what to think! I'm grateful, but I wonder, does this mean I have to start cleaning more?

........ I guess that wouldn't be such a bad thing... tee-hee.

Just thought I'd mention that

Saturday night is not a good time to be out getting last-minute lettuce. The streets are so packed I start feeling like I'm in a Wal-Mart at Christmas. Glad to be back home.

wolas, olas!

It's been rainy lately, and with it have come these big waves that are really impressive to see. Wednesday night I visited the Peines del Viento again and finally saw water come up through the holes in the ground. Yesterday night I went running along the Zurriola, and it was really neat to see and feel... the mist of the water coming over the wall, the waves roiling beside me... all those clichéd phrases about the fury of the ocean and all that seem to come true. The waves were jumping over the Paseo Nuevo as well, so they closed it and got all the cars to move. I wanted to see the water, but it's honestly scary to get close. Anyway, I looked to see if there were any videos of the waves here, and the stuff that came up from a couple years ago is much more dramatic than now, but cool to watch. This is a short video from a news program showing the damage the waves can do: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XRq6d2fwok&NR=1

And this is a longer video with some corny music, but the views of San Sebastian and the waves are crazy. At the beginning he is at one end of the Zurriola beach: I tried venturing down that dock-type thing, but it was a veritable flood. The last five minutes I think he is filming the Paseo Nuevo. Both places are where I run. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERfw1sQYUjE&NR=1&feature=fvwp

Highlights from this week: extra job = extra money (if all goes well, an extra 450 euros a month! Now that's money!); my first time rock climbing (yes, indoors); and a schedule that's finally settling down in the schools. I will be at the one school every day now with my extra job, and at the other school two days. Lotsa work... which will hopefully equal lotsa money. I have enough free time; just gotta figure out how to use it. Happy weekend!

yum yum

Hahaha... this is hilarious. There was an article on Al-Jazeera online today about the US senate finance committee voting to approve some healthcare package from Obama. One Republican senator, however, saw the real danger behind this vote: "We can now see clearly that the bill continues its march leftward. (Ah!!! The left, the left!!!!)This bill is already moving on a slippery slope to more government control of healthcare."

No!!! Not... GOVERNMENT CONTROL!!!

We already know how that turned out in places like Cuba and (gasp) Canada!!!

I mean... really.

Anyway, children, a week or more has gone by since my last post. José Luis came to visit this past weekend, which permitted me to visit Bilbao on Saturday: we saw the Guggenheim (cooler on the outside than on the inside, but granted, their second floor was closed) and the soccer stadium (San Mamés, home of the Athletic de Bilbao). The stadium was sweet. They're going to tear it down in a few years and build a new one just beside it, as far as I could tell.

On Sunday we saw the Peines del Viento, the sculptures at the sea at the far end of the Concha beach, and had mussels for lunch. The rest of the rainy day was basically spent drinking either in bars or in my apartment, and playing cards, with Shane and Aina.

He left on Monday, and in the afternoon Shane, Aina, some friend of Shane's we ran into on the road, and I took a mighty long walk up Monte Igueldo. If you don't take the funicular straight up the side of it, you have to go up this back road which eventually curves away from the park at the top of Monte Igueldo and goes along the coast. So we wandered for some time, seeing gardens of luscious tomatoes, pear trees, lemon trees, and even bamboo. There were also some sheep and goats wandering around on the hills that slope down to the water. It was quite lovely indeed, and we were pretty tired and hungry by the time we got back to town.

I went to a capoeira class last Thursday to see what it was like... like, would I have to do crazy flips just starting out?. The answer to that question is yes. Haha, we warmed up and then went straight into headstands, cartwheels, and the rest. Parts of it were fun; parts of it I could do; but I would need some serious practice and motivation to perfect a headstand, and frankly, I don't got it. I know capoeira's cool, but I think I'd rather learn judo or something. Whatcha gonna do.

My schedule at the two schools is still not totally figured out, but so far it looks like this: Mondays three hours and Friday one hour in Rentería; and then Tuesdays and Thursdays (with whatever they assign to me) in Hondarribia. Also, if it works out, I'll be teaching an extra hour and a half to older kids in Rentería on Wednesdays and get paid separately for that (straight from da parents). That would be nice. And finally, my roommate Raúl and his girlfriend Alva keep bugging me to teach them English, so I went with Raúl yesterday to the bookstore to pick up a textbook and we made a tentative schedule of an hour and a half, Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Good God, does work never end?! Haha... I am very happy to be getting any extra cash what with the rent I'm paying and my small regular paycheque. Hopefully it will offset the price all those other crazy things I want to do, like try rock climbing and take Basque lessons. Hum de hum... time's gonna start slipping away.

picture time!!

Sunday seems like the right time to do a whole lot of nothing. This morning I got up and went for a run, and then it looked so great out that I went back out after showering to take some pictures. Then I put a whole bunch of pictures up on Facebook! (I would really like to be out at the Kilometroak but Josh isn't answering his phone and I don't want to go alone.)

I think you're all on Facebook but for the sake of convenience I'll just put the links here.

I added some pictures of the zoo to my Toronto album: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=46614&id=510868602&l=5d9f288dfa

And then I made an album of pictures from travelling to Barcelona and then from here in San Sebastian: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=107904&id=510868602&l=9baaffa3e4

A couple other notes:

1) boo hoo hoo, Madrid didn't get the 2016 Olympics. Be sad, Spaniards, I was rooting for Rio.

2) I noticed even before I arrived that "la crisis" was a pretty big topic here, more so than in Canada I think. Indeed, one of the headline stories this week was that Spain was predicted to be the last of the "big" European countries to recover from the economic crisis. Accordingly, almost every commercial has a little thing tacked on the end reminding the audience what a great value their product is, and maybe a sticker that says "Precio ahorro". One that sticks in my head is Pantene's slogan: "Un pelo de lujo... a un precio que puedo." I know most products need to be seen as worth the money, but it's like overkill here.

Hope you all enjoy your Sundays. :)

phew

Alright guys, we made it to October. A couple of you voiced concerns over my diet and admittedly it's been a little extreme over the past week. Intermittently I've felt a cold coming on, and what with all the stress and lack of food, it's not surprising. I'm sure that as soon as I slow down a little bit and think everything is fine it will hit me. So yesterday I bought some vitamins and I've been trying to just take 'er easy. I stayed in last night and slept in today. Raúl made penne alla carbonara and salad for lunch, and plied me with alcohol. (White wine from Cataluña? How about a cup of red? Now a beer?) A nice way to start a Saturday, really.

Thanks also to my readers for your encouragement in picking the nicer room. I really like it. (I swear, pictures... coming soon...) I'm now living in the Parte Vieja of San Sebastián: Calle del 31 de agosto, 24, 3.d., 20003. I have three roommates right now: Raúl and his girlfriend Alva, who are from Cataluña (and think accordingly that I should learn català instead of euskera), and Pablo, a Mexican. Both guys have just started an apparently well-known cooking course here. There's one more room that will be filled sometime. There was a Basque guy, but he only stayed one night and then left. I never did end up meeting him. *Shrugs.*

Saw a movie with Arantza (the French teacher at the school in Rentería if I didn't mention her before) and her friend, and Josh, the guy from North Carolina. We had thought it was going to be in French but it wasn't, and it was fine, but I won't recommend it. No idea what it would be called in English. Moving on.

Other news... not much. Internet in the apartment, Wi-Fi hopefully on Tuesday. Tomorrow is some big event called the "Kilometroak" out by the Zurriola beach or something, so I'll try and make an appearance. Tuesday and Wednesday I'll be making small voyages to do orientation and next week I'll also have to do some more paperwork. Tonight... since Molly's not around (went to the Pyrenees... is a big rock-climber) it's just me and Josh (and maybe Pablo), so I guess we'll go "out", but I'm not sure where to or what the hell we'll do. What's the point of going out if it's just... to drink? Am I like... insane? I don't know. I don't mind sleeping. Grr... gotta meet people... hope y'all are doing great.

guuuuhhhhhhhhh

Fuuuuuckin' long day, folks. I think they just keep getting longer. I did get home before midnight tonight, which is a plus, but on the downside I had a rough afternoon. I've never done the whole get-home-and-crash-on-the-couch-with-the-t.v. thing before, but mannnn was I tempted today. Of course I didn't manage to. Grabbed my laptop and found myself with a friendly chap from North Carolina in the salón. Funny how meeting someone in your language that can change you from dead to super-talky. Still ready for bed though.

So anyway, adventures for today. I opened a bank account in the morning and then grabbed a bus to Hondarribia to visit them as well. (I was pronouncing this all along as Ondarribia, Spanish-style, but the colloquial Basque pronunciation is On-yar-bee, go figure.) I mentioned my difficulties with finding the location of the school in Errenteria before, so I didn't even bother trying to figure it out today. I just jumped on a bus and asked the driver where to get off. He dropped me off at the bottom of the town... I proceeded to walk to the top. (What is UP with these killer hills?!?) I just asked directions all the way up. Took a couple pictures which I will add tomorrow maybe (hopefully to the other entries as well, yay, illustrations!). The sun was out in what seemed to me to be full force, so I was a-nice 'n' sweaty by the time I got up to the high school. (See me backing away from kissing people. I felt bad.)

Usual discussion about "oh! you're not francophone? but..." yada yada, I just smile through. Some adjustments need to be made. Thankfully, I could literally swim across the river from Hondarribia to France, so I think that's going to be the plan for the weekend. ..... Not swimming across, but going to France. Heyo, time to get fluent. What do you think... possible? Ohhh.. why not.

I got driven back to San Sebastián in the car of this hilarious teacher that unfortunately will only be working at the school for a month. Once there, I stopped by the apartment that I informed my faithful readers about, in order to let them know of the developments re: the paper trail. (If I'm not making any sense, it's because I'm almost dead. I'll edit later.) What happened was... I need a contract from the apartment in order to show the police that I live somewhere to eventually get my visa extended from three months to a year. But the people in the apartment told me that their landlady didn't do contracts. So I told them I'd go to city hall and ask them if just a letter was ok, or...

Anyway, when I showed up, the bitch Ana looked at Juan like "what the fuck is she doing here", and muttered that she'd already rented the room out to someone who didn't need a contract.

Oh.

I could tell Juan really felt bad, and he offered a "lo siento, eh?" but I just turned and walked out of there. Man, was I ticked. Hoooooly. Like... FUCK!!!!!!!! Thanks for fucking me over, fucking bitch. (Really I never call anyone except Evan a bitch, but this one called for it.) But I thought... if she was going to do that to me, do I really want to live with her?

It was just annoying, because I had to then walk back to the train station, take the train to Irún, walk to the hostel, rummage through my shit to grab the other phone numbers for apartments I'd written down, rush back to the train station, train back to Donosti, back to the plaza, start calling. And I was already sticky and sweaty from the morning in the sun.

Anyway, I called a few places and did my best to get the directions to them. The first two I was going to see were someplace I couldn't walk to [Amara Nuevo], so I grabbed a bus down and then wandered around looking for the first. I found it, called at the door, and a guy answered and told me "no, we don't have a room to rent, she [the girl I'd talked with] must have made a mistake".

Uhhh... that was weird. Ok. Nnnnnnext.

I couldn't find the second one for the longest time, but I finally made it. It was in The Nicest Building I have ever seen in Spain. Drastically different from anything I'd seen before. The girls were nice... kind of quiet... nice... the room was pretty good... but they didn't have internet. GASP! (Seriously though... that's a major mark off. It drastically detracts from my quality of life.) And really... I didn't want to live in that neighbourhood. And the girls were just too... nice. I don't know. I just couldn't see myself living with them. And I didn't want to get roped into a place that felt so removed from everything. Really, I just wanted a place near the Paseo Nuevo so I could jog along it. Is that too much of a one-track mind? (You don't have to answer that.)

So I called some lady who was offering "rooms" (seemed suspicious to me... some sort of prospector) in the Parte Vieja, which is directly under the Paseo Nuevo. (I wish I could scan some map on here so you could see what areas I'm talking about.)

Ok: this is basically the map I have. http://www.informagiovani-italia.com/mappa_san_sebastian_3.jpg Amara Nuevo's at the bottom. My "previous" apartment was in the Centro; Parte Vieja's right at the top. Further up is just the sea.

Annnnyhoo... back to my long and boring story. It's really just monumental for me. You guys just want to hear... "oh, I'm so happyyyyyyy, I have the best place everrrrrr, come and visit!!!!!!" And you'll be like ok great, she's moved in, now back to my life. But anyway, I'll continue for my own records.

So by this time I was pretty nervous about my future. I no longer had a place, things were going fast, and what if I didn't find anything I really liked? What were the odds of places having Internet? I went up to the Parte Vieja, drowned my nerves in a McFlurry (not at all comparable to that piece of shit I had in Ciudad Real; this one was with real peanut M&Ms! Yo! That beats Smarties any day! Eat it, Canada.), and paced around outside the door trying to gear myself up for the worst disappointment.

Luckily, I didn't have to deal with that. There were three rooms to choose from, so not a huge rush to pick one. They were decent size, the kitchen was big and beautiful, there was just one guy living there who was apparently not a partier... T.V.'s in all the rooms... and... FREE WI-FI! OH my freaking GOD I was so happy to hear that. I was pretty much jumping around and hugging the landlady. (She was pretty cool, too.) Fuuuucking A.

I have to choose what room I want still: the one that smells like second-hand smoke, has a smaller bed, and some weird window connecting it to the one next door; or the more expensive one that has green walls, a nice bed, and is just off the kitchen. It's better but... it's a hundred-euro difference. What should I do? I just want to pick and move in ASAP, before something shitty happens again.

Wow, I am sooooo ready for bed. But before I go, do you guys want to hear what I ate today? I knew I was going to drastically reduce my diet when I came here, part of the reason I kind of let myself gorge on ice cream... but still, it's impressive how little food I'm eating compared to right before I came here. For breakfast I had a yogurt; then for lunch I had two pieces of bread (American-style, not that crusty stuff) with ham and lettuce; and for supper, that McFlurry. I just had that McFlurry for fun's sake... I don't know if I would have eaten supper otherwise.

Now if I can only keep this up for a year... :P I joke, I joke.

easing in

Hey everybody,

alright so... the ball has finally started rolling today. My hands have been tied for the past couple days due to the the fact that virtually everything useful is closed here on the weekend. I won't depress you with the details of my unhappiness the first couple days, but to sum up I was not feeling Irún at all and decided to look for an apartment in San Sebastián instead. Ok, so I haven't previously mentioned my working arrangements, but I was assigned to work in two high schools in two separate towns in Guipúzkoa (the province): Errenteria (Basque)/Rentería (Spanish), and Hondarribia (Basque)/Fuenterrabia (Spanish). (A lot of places around here have a Basque name and a Spanish name: Irún seems to be the exception to this. San Sebastián's Basque name is Donostia or Donosti.) So what I did back in Canada was look at a map and pick the town (Irún) that happened to be in between the two. Also, it was larger than the two towns I was supposed to work in. But it turns out that Donostia is only 20 minutes away via Cercanías (regional train run by RENFE, the national train company) from Irún, and is equidistant from Rentería. There are also plenty of buses that run to Hondarribia from Donosti as well. And if anyone's been to Donostia, they know that it's just freakishly gorgeous. So my decision's been made quite easily.

Today I lounged around unshowered till about 12.30pm and then realized I wasn't going to make it to Rentería by 2 if I didn't get my ass in gear, so I fucking bolted it to the train station to catch the train at 13.20. Part of the problem was that I could not for the life of me figure out where the hell A) the Cercanías stop in Rentería actually was, and then, once I figured that out, B) how to get to the school from there. That kind of ate up my morning. Thanks to the goodness/lack of any pressing matters on the part of the people of Errenteria, I managed to make it onto a bus which carried me up some gigantic fucking hills to the high school, which was just letting out by the time I got there. (This is only an adventure insofar as I didn't want to miss Arantxa - my contact at the school - and waste another day. Also, I really am always amazed at how willing Spanish people are to give you directions to places.)

(As a side-note, has anyone else noticed that Spanish people are always late for everything, except for when it comes to leaving work? It hits two and those motherfuckers are outta there. .... Excuse my language, I'm randomly being inspired by Junot Díaz. Go figure.)

Arantxa was the sweetest, most reassuring and most useful person I have met in Spain up till now. (How much praise is that? I'm not even sure myself. She was great, though.) She explained the paperwork I have to do, showed me on a map where to go, gave me information about my orientations next week (one Monday, one Tuesday) and gave me my schedule for working at the school. Then she drove me to Donostia to the university so we could look at apartment listings put up by students, and translated the ones in Basque for me. She also gave me advice about how to get from point A to point B in terms of work, and finally dropped me off 'downtown' so I could get cracking on those apartments. I bought a phone from Movistar - the cheapest one, but it's quite cute and much nicer than my Canadian Koodo one (big surprise there) and commenced the calling. Taken, taken... and finally one that wasn't, one smack dab in the centre that wasn't too expensive at all. Well, it's 280 instead of 350 euros a month for a room.

I hung around town for a while, drinking a coffee by the port, listening to people speak Basque, and finishing up A Streetcar Named Desire, which I had robbed from Evan's basement. I should start reading more plays. That one was excellent. (P.S. Ev.... that's totally not Tennessee Williams on the front, it's Marlon Brando. .... Wait, you were just mocking me before? ... shut up.) I bought a workbook to learn Basque (yeah, I KNOW I'm a loser, you don't have to tell me, guys) and took a walk along Paseo Nuevo, which runs along the water. Can't wait to join those joggers soon.

I haven't taken any pictures yet, but I will as soon as possible. Pictures rarely do justice (especially mine), but I'll do my best.

Finally, for supper I pretty much broke my jaw on a bocadillo de jamón in a delightful taberna where I was able to watch the local drama go down. What is up with that bread... I guess if you grow up eating it you develop some decent chewing strength. I feel like everyone can tell I grew up on soft bread when I try to eat one of those crusty baguette things.

Anyway, the apartment was in the typical Spanish style (does it change anywhere?): dark wooden closets, minute rooms, and a thick cloud of cigarette smoke greeting you at the door. Nevertheless, it's a decent price for a great location, and I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get a much bigger room anywhere else. Also, there's a decent-sized T.V. and wireless internet... the essentials. There are four people living there, plus me: Juan (from Argentina), Ana (from Burgos), Xabi (don't know where from yet), and some other girl that I didn't meet either. I need to figure out tomorrow exactly what I need for the police, find out if I can get it from the landlady, and then hopefully start moving my stuff over tomorrow.

As much as I'd like to keep looking for apartments, I don't have time and I just want to move out of this damn hostel. At least the crazy lady has moved out. It was fine as long as she was sleeping, but if she woke up, or in the mornings when she was rustling her 15 plastic bags around, there was just this constant stream of... well, something in Spanish, coming out of her mouth. I kind of feel bad for her, but she seemed like she was here on a mission and she's not here now, so she must have accomplished it. Bon voyage.

I need to sleep now. Ah... sleep.

made it

Well sports fans, it's been a while. I really meant to write something sooner, about what was going on in my life or whatever, but I was without internet at home since I moved house in early August, and also things were sort of unsure for a while, so I figured what was the point. In short: I had applied in April to work in Spain as an "English conversational assistant", and we were supposed to find out in June if we'd gotten a job. By July I hadn't heard anything, and my plans changed to staying in Toronto working at Cream or wherever else. My lease was up in August, so I found a one-bedroom near Danforth and Pape, which was nearer to work, and in an area of Toronto that I really liked, so I was pretty excited to stay. Of course, Spain being Spain, I found out about mid-July that I did indeed have a job as a conversational assistant, starting October 1st. Grrrrrreat.

When the letter arrived, Will was visiting and so he can attest to the great torment I experienced. I felt badly for my new landlord, whom I had told that I would be living in the apartment for at least a year, and I had a hard time changing my mentality from staying in Toronto with my friends and my great new place to getting all my shit together to get to Spain on time. Will was great encouragement in this regard, as was Ev - thank God for friends who know what's best for you, even when it's not best for them. It took me a week to wrap my head around it, then a few weeks more to get my papers in order for the visa application. In the meantime, I moved to the new place with fewer possessions and figured out how to distribute my things amongst my friends once it was time to leave. My visa came through mid-September, and I finally bought a flight to Barcelona just this past weekend. (Evan's magic fingers got me a good price. Thanks Evvy!)

It was a little stressful still, cleaning out the apartment and getting everything organized, while trying to spend as much time as possible with friends. Somehow a hundred things pop up when you plan on leaving - all the little things that needed doing for months suddenly need to be done now, plus suddenly you have to plan ahead and get a year-long supply of contacts or whatever. Quéeee rollo. Pero bueno, ya está.

I flew out Wednesday evening, arriving in Heathrow in the "morning", and getting to Barcelona at 12.30 on Thursday. I tried to drug myself with Gravol on the long flight, and it kind of worked, but it made me feel really weird, like I was itchy or something, but I wasn't. Next time I'll take four and hopefully not wake up for seven hours. But really you've only got four hours to sleep anyhow. Yada yada, you get your drink, then it's time for supper, and by the time you finish that it's 10pm. Snore snore snore. I drifted in and out, but I was in the fucking middle seat, so there's nowhere to lean your head. On the bright side, no complaints about my seatmates. Nice German man and some quiet Canadian guy. My German's suffered, as a side note.

I'm rambling. I got to Barcelona, where Inga and her boyfriend Isidro picked me up. After lunch at her place (mm.. love Inga's cooking always), we spent the rest of the day walking around Barcelona. It was neat-o, it's 'La Mercè' right now (whatever the hell that is) so there were random concerts all over and frighteningly large human figures in a parade. Got to bed for a hearty five or less hours sleep before getting up this morning to catch the train to Irún. So how's Irún? Well, I went out from the hostel to buy some groceries and was like... it looks like frigging Sunday around here. What day is it again? But then I remembered that it was siesta. So I'll try again in a little bit and see if it still looks like a dead zone. .... Probably. Who are we kidding here. I need to head over to San Sebastián or something for some real action.

Anyhoo, it's that exciting time again of tying up loose ends. Gotta find a place to live, get a bank card, a cell phone, and some other errands that I don't remember right now. So long, faithful readers (I realize that that 's' is highly optimistic on my part) and till next time in the "watch Laura pretend she speaks French" saga. Oh yeah, did I mention I'm supposed to be speaking French to these kiddies? *gags* Aaaaaadiós.

happy?

Things seem to be going well. . . I've been looking for a place to move to since my lease is up in August, and I decided that I wanted to live on the Danforth around Chester or Pape station.  My search commenced, I looked at a couple places, and before I could make up my mind at all about them, POOF! they were snatched up by someone else. Hmmm. I see the housing market moves fast around this Danforth place. Anyway, today I looked at one more place which the owner had been slow in getting back to me about, and... I don't want to get too excited before it's all wrapped up/I move in and discover the fatal flaw, but I am very pleased with it so far. It is much bigger than the other two places I looked at, for the same price, and furthermore is nicer. They just put in new flooring, the cabinets are new, they're replacing the carpet... no old-people carpet for me! I've realized I actually dislike carpet. Probably because I shed so much and also because I despise vacuuming.  The moral of the story is I need to go to the bank tomorrow and get those people some money, so the other prospective tenants bugger off. Do wish me luck. I'll be very happy to get this tied up.

My lovely Jocelyne came to visit me today and we had a wonderful long date. Jumped on the trampoline (told off tonight via paper slipped under the door from one of the girls upstairs... you're going to put up a tramp in the backyard, not use it, and be offended when someone takes advantage of it? Nigga please, as Yunior and Evan would both say.), picked raspberries from the bush, visited Vic College, had two crêpes each on Queen St (I do recommend Café Crêpe) and went down to see the colours change on the CN Tower. We finally walked down to the harbourfront and admired the marina and some crazy slopey dock - pictures will follow.

Other fun stuff in my life has included bird-sitting a cute Quaker parrot named Harry for Ryan and Teresa (I think he's still alive... at least, Teresa hasn't contacted me reporting his death) and playing with the lemurs at the Peterborough zoo. Reub was kind enough to pick me up from Yorkdale last Saturday and take me home with him, where we made delicious chili before checking out the lemurs/large frogs/mini-train ride/snakes at the zoo, gorging on pub food and trying not to fall asleep at the Dears concert, which was good, just very late. I'm also doing my best to plow through a few books, but now I'm up against completing War and Peace and those last few hundred pages are going to take me awhile unless I really gun it.  Actually, I went to the Toronto Reference Library today to take out some more books but as I learned, you can't actually take out the ones in the stacks. I guess that's why it's called the "reference" library. USELESS!! Oh I know, you can take stuff out from the browsery, but by the time I was refused my books it was too late and I had to meet Joce at Union.

All the useless information on the TTC going home tonight was about Michael Jackson's funeral. All of it. I've already started complaining about the calibre of the news on those stupid tv's, but this was impressive. I did like the bit about his golden coffin, but the quote they published from Nelson Mandela was not worthy of him. Something about him being the King of Pop. Reeeally...

Right, so I mentioned the death of Sammy in the previous post. He's been replaced by what looks like an identical twin, but without the tattoo. I managed to walk out of the Apple store without paying, so we'll see how long that lasts for. People either react to that piece of news like "sweet!" or "what, you're not going to give it back?".  Give it back, my ass... once again: "Nigga please!".  (Please don't consider that a racial slur, I'm just quoting from literature. That doesn't count, right?)

Well, time for bed, thanks for reading, chers Amit et Will. To the latter of you, I will see you very soon. Ohhhh.... yes.

right, so...

Right, so I've been meaning to post something for a while, if only to mark the small and wondrous change in my life that is the transition from the Masters to working.  This probably won't be too coherent; I haven't been this tired for quite some time. It's only 11pm but I've been getting up (or at least waking up) at 7.30 for a few days, regardless of whether I get to bed at 1am, 2... so I'm looking forward to sleep tonight. 8 hours whaaat! So I must be in bed by 11.30.

I left Ryan's early tonight... as per the use' (yooj - I really must find out how one spells the abbreviation for 'usual'. Anyone?) we had a potluck and played Taboo (ok, I've been there what twice now?).  It's great fun, I like hanging out and Ryan is good at guessing my Taboo clues. It seems that the tireder I get the better I am at the game, so I'm almost convinced I should stay and keep playing, but tonight I was starting to feel shaky and stuff.

Then I got home and realized that it FUCKING rained on my FUCKING clothes AGAIN, the ones I keep putting on the line (without clothespins) and that keep getting rained on, FUCK YOU rain. They get tossed off the line onto the dirty ground and then rained on, and it sucks. For some reason it made me really really angry, but I think I'm just beyond tired. But enough about that. It's sum-up time.

So, my last paper of my Spanish masters at the University of Toronto was due in on May 8, and as I was scheduled to be back home in Yellowknife at that point, I finished it in my new house and e-mailed it in.  Right, so, as a recap, the 'rents moved to the Northwest Territories this past November and were renting a house which I visited at Christmas; they have now purchased a home that is cute and backs onto a park for Bou to run around and terrorize people in. It's also near the lake we walked on at winter. In May when I was there there was still snow, but it wasn't -35 which was a nice change, and instead of 6 hours of twilight we got... oh I don't know, a lot of sunlight. Much longer hours than here.

So I spent a week in Yellowknife just chillaxing at home, which consists of watching movies, reading as much as I can, going outside with Bou and hanging out with the parents. Reub wasn't home the same time as me because he started work at the Peterborough zoo on May 1st I believe... man how cool is that? He works at a zoo! I've got to go visit. No wait, it's in Peterborough. Maybe not.

After Yellowknife I came back to Toronto for the May 2-4, that is, Victoria Day weekend, which I spent with Ben, Anna, and Evan at the cottage in Kettle Point. It was nice although too short; we didn't really get a chance to settle in, but then again it was probably a blessing considering we ran out of water the last day we were there and had to boil bottled water to do the dishes. What a cushy life we lead.

Then I really spent a week just doing nothing but keeping busy; I have yet to see the dentist, however... I'll try to get an appointment for the next couple days. I have no idea if that's doable. 

I got a job in a creamery/café type place that Danielle whom I know from school is opening up. I was soooo happy not to have to look for work, and I'm really looking forward to the job. I've only worked about 15 hours so far... actually probably less than that... since we're still working on opening. So I've made and painted furniture, cleaned and sanitized stuff, and today I painted a blackboard on the wall. That was fun. It looks pretty good.  So I'm planning on working there for the summer. I applied to be an "auxiliar de conversación" in Spain for next year, but of course the Spanish government is snail-slow in getting back to us. I say 'us' because Jocey and Brysey also applied and as far as I know they haven't heard anything. Maybe they're just lying to me, though.

I have ten minutes. So what else is new? I had delicious perogies in Roncesvalles with Jeannine and co. on Thursday night. I thankfully avoided the copious amount of vodka being passed around, although some of us weren't so lucky (*cough* Evan). Oh! and my iPod kicked the bucket. Oh, Sammy... it's hard to see you go. I got the sad iPod icon and was told by the Apple people that there was nothing they could do; it was simply his time. Isn't that bullshit? You spend x hundred dollars (I can't remember how much I paid for him now) on a beloved iPod and it's due to die in two-and-a-half years? I don't know about that. He always seemed a bit sickly, but nonetheless, he should've lasted longer, in my opinion. I bought a Shuffle coincidentally, which is great for running and moving around, but it just doesn't do the same thing for me that Sammy did. Where's the variety? Where's the option to choose?

The only other semi-interesting things in my life are that I'm reading a good book right now - A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving - and I kind of learned how to shoot a basketball correctly. I'm still working on it. Ok, it's time for bed now. Eventually hopefully I'll put something of merit on this blog - but oh, who are we kidding. I think only Inga reads it anyway. . ........ Inga?! hahah.

GOOD NIGHT

WINTER GO AWAY

Ok, so really now... why must God taunt us?  Snow at the beginning of April was exaggerated enough, but must we maintain 5 degree weather? My hands are starting to suffer! They're tired of being dry! I thought I'd be able to stop wearing a third layer, but nope! And Georgia is still suffering through the tempests out there in the backyard, while I neglect her and use my Metropass! 

I did go for an absolutely lovely run on Friday, however - that's maybe the most frustrating thing. I love running outside and I was finally able to do so, and then of course come back and spend some time on Map My Run (combining running AND maps!), but the goddamn cold is now back to thwarting my life.

Classes are over, which is awesome (and not awesome). Last class with Rupp was classic - or was it? I don't know, but our photo session à la grad student (Rupp included) and debriefing session brought sunshine into my life once more.

Here's to finishing the year without suicide! Hoo-Rah! 

light!

I love spring!! Yes I do complain that there's no real spring in Canada, and that it's so ugly with the dead grass and absence of leaves on the tree, but I do very much appreciate the greater quantities of light that we've been receiving these last few weeks.  Everyone knows that in the dead of winter here people get depressed from the lack of light, and it's crazy to see how measurable the change is when sunshine starts coming back.

It's still cold out, but somehow everything is different when you realize it's 6.30 pm and the room is still bright.  It's like even if I should be really stressed, I just can't stress with this beautiful sunshine.

I can't wait for summer.

whatevs!

I don't write often and I don't write about much. I know, I know. I think I'm the only one that reads this blog anyway so I just write things to entertain myself. But I know it's a vicious cycle, I don't write anything, there's no reason for anyone to read it, so I don't write anything, etc.

Of course, if I did anything of interest it would make more sense for me to write.

...

I just wanted to make clear that the title of my blog is NOT Vanessa Carlton-inspired.  I don't think she uses this exact phrase, but when it came time to pick a name, I just opened a book I was reading (Daniel Deronda, oh yes) and picked the first adequate phrase I saw. So there you have it.

I kinda want to recap my week, because it was a good one.  First I went out with Anna and Ben (Banna as they will soon be known, thanks to Sumeep) for St. Pattie's, at the Victory Café.  Always a good time with them, which was to be repeated later in the week at Friday night dinner and tax-filing time!  Nothing like pasta, fruit salad and the promise of cold hard cash to make for an enjoyable night. 

On Thursday I got to kick someone's ass at Rockband, both on the drums and guitar, before proceeding to (the?) Tranzac to drink red wine and scare away scuzzies... and oh yeah, watch Brenda's brother play the bass.  

Then Saturday it was nice to hang around the conference for a bit, before pizza and Taboo at Ryan and T(h)eresa's.  And NO I haven't dug myself out of the dark pit made up of my academic duties, but look at me! I'm in the library on a Sunday, listening to the guy in the carrel behind me snoring! 

Number of people in the reading room at Pratt - 17. Of that, number of Asians - 11. Not bad, not bad. People are friggin' dedicated.

I'm annoyed at three things, however: 

1. two of my favourite t-shirts have gone MIA, and as we all know, I pretty much own(ed) three t-shirts.  So I've been wearing the third all week, and will continue to do so until my new shipment from Threadless arrives. (Spring sale still on!)

2. the lack of internet service in my house. The network disappeared ya hace rato, but I survived on free networks, which have now also become unavailable to me.

3. that my card and/or the secret basement door refuses to let me into the basement to get to the Cueva. As a result, I am left without snacks and a comfy couch to read on.

So in case you're waiting for an update on my future, I don't have one. I still haven't looked for a job for the summer, and I don't know where I'm going to be next year. Yes, I would like to travel this summer, but I don't know when would be a good time to do it if I'm supposed to be working.  What the hell, maybe I'll just take the whole summer off and join Anna and Ben in Germany before skipping off to the Middle East.  No worries, right? As Sumeep would say, "yeeeeahhhhhhh."

lo que yo no entiendo

you can't hold it too tight

these matters of security

you don't have to be wound so tight, smoking on the balcony

but it's that sleaze in the park

you women, you have no self-control

the angels remark outside

you were known for insatiable needs

i don't know a thing

i've seen love, and i've followed the speeding of starlight

i've seen love, and i've followed the speeding of starswept night

yeah pace is the trick

Chicag'

Yep, so Sumeep and myself managed to catch a plane over to Illinois to check out what was going down in Chicago.  In February.  So, not much.

Despite the cold that punished us as we walked the streets, I had quite a nice time.  The city looked pretty sketchy from our subway vantage point coming in from O'Hare, but once we walked downtown from our hostel in Greektown (hostel name: The Parthenon) things brightened up.  The buildings are kinda neat, and so is the El, as long as it doesn't kill you with sparks as you pass underneath. I doubt it's possible. ... but, I'll still cringe when it goes overhead.

Basically, our strategy was to see the city in between Starbucks/Dunkin' Donuts stops.  In there, we walked along the shorefront, visited Millenium Park and the bean (best idea EVER making that thing, except for maybe the price of it), did up the Art Institute (yes, I did see Nighthawks, but almost got run over by a rampaging horde of children with their chairs in the process) and the Cultural Center (although I couldn't get Sarabia/Xul Solar off the brain in there), visited the lovely (and wonderfully free) Garfield Conservatory, and went up the Sears Tower, where I was pleasantly greeted by two Obama cut-outs, which I of course took pictures with.  (See Figure A, above.) 

In other excitement, I discovered Sumeep's love of water fountains and gift shops, how utterly ghetto Chicago's subway system is, and REdiscovered the deliciousness of bread and cheese.  I whipped out that particular lunch at the Auto Show amidst the fudge, deep dish pizza and hot dog stands and was promptly stared at.  Well maybe I didn't get stared at, but my food most certainly did. Ah, how good does it feel to stand out.  Cheeeeeeese...

My CS contacts ultimately all flaked out on me, but 'tis the spirit of the surfers, so we just rolled with it and made new ones via skating Thursday night at Millennium Park. Sumeep was a great sport and let me fly around the rink for a couple hours before we feasted on pizza, beer and, in my case, an awesome cookie and ice cream dessert.

We emerged without making any real souvenir purchases outside postcards although I did eye the "Yes We Can" shirts/mugs with the intention of getting Jeannine an inspirational present. :)  

Not real happy with the amount of work (none) gotten done this week, but having seen Joce and Dam, vegging out with banana bread, and going to Chicago, all in all it wasn't too bad. 

Cannot wait till next weekend, when I promise, I'll get ahead on all my schoolwork.... and go to Jonathan's fuck-you-comps party, and have possibly a first date?!?

Bring it on, week. 

question?

Something I wanted to throw out there... what do you do if you witness an act of racism? Do you say something to the person making the comment, or the person being attacked?  The thing is that in both instances that I've seen someone getting yelled at, I'm pretty sure the one doing the yelling was kinda crazy. So I'm thinking it wouldn't do any good talking to them. 

The first instance was in New York on the subway, where some older black guy starting yelling at this white girl for no apparent reason; seems he thought she was looking at him funny.  But like I said, he was crazy, and other passengers told her that after he got off.  The second time was when I got off the bus the other day at the subway station, and as is the case many mornings, there's a veritable crowd of people waiting to get on the bus. I bet if I jumped out and got the right angle, I could crowdsurf my way to the doors. But anyway.  I was just heading into the station when I heard a man at the other end of the bus yell "Get out of my way, ya stupid nigger!"  ..... So, I'm innocent and all, but that's honestly the first time I've ever heard someone get called the n-word.  As for the reaction, everyone turned their heads, but what're you gonna do?  I just wonder if I was there, if I'd have the nerve to say something - not to the crazy guy, but to whoever was on the receiving end.  I wonder if people would assume (I probably would) that it's understood that the guy was crazy, we don't agree with his exclamation, and he doesn't even merit being rebuked.  But I can't imagine how it would feel to be randomly yelled at just because you're black, even if the guy was crazy. I'm sure some solidarity would be appreciated.  If it weren't wrong, I wish somebody had punched that crazy guy in the face.  Or at least tripped him a little.  Anyway, I hope someone said something to whoever had to hear that spit at them.

I know this post is long for being about crazy people, my apologies.  But I am always curious to know what it is the people who talk to themselves talk about; I always found it interesting that even if someone's brain seems not to work correctly, they're still able to speak/swear fluently. Oh, language.  And now racism? Where does that come from? If my brain broke down in whatever way that guy's did, would I start yelling racial slurs and swearing like crazy? 

... Please never let me end up on the street.    

the goodness

Just a small note for all those seeking to obtain TTC services for free (and if you're not drunk and broke, which seems to get you on as well, although if you're homeless I don't know if that still applies), just wait for the northbound streetcar at Spadina and Harbord at about 7pm on a Tuesday night.  When the doors open, you'll see a mass of bodies surrounding the driver, spilling down onto the stairs. Canadians are not familiar with the concept of making room where there is none, so you'll probably be alone in crushing yourself between some guy on the stairs and the doors that will in all probability close on you, but are so flimsy it doesn't even hurt. And of course there's no way you can even get close enough to the driver to give him your fare, so you can get a free ride on the subway!

.....My metropass is pointless.....  

No, but really... they need to start sending more streetcars up at that time. Cee-razy.

A second point for tonight is my discovery that Tim Hortons coffee actually sucks. I'd only ever sipped on one Tim's coffee before today, and that time I thought something was wrong with the coffee, as it seemed to have acquired the taste of the paper cup surrounding it.  However, today I had some that was brewed at the office and became aware that that's just how Tim's coffee tastes. Wow. What a disappointment.  Can I still call myself Canadian if I hate Tim's coffee? 

... i still like the doughnuts... don't hurt me...

lovely life

First week of classes is over.  One essay still waiting to be written, paws up, looking at me with big doleful eyes.  Lots of studying and reading to be done over the weekend.  Still, it feels great to  be back at school and in the office with everybody again.  Gives me a great big dose of happy.

Just think, in four months I'll have (if all goes well) a Masters in Bellyaching.  I'm getting great at it, but as we all know, practice makes perfect.  I also have the encouragement of my friends, which makes all the difference! :)  

Oh, stress levels.  There's the point where you feel yourself falling behind, but you still think you can catch up if you work really hard.  Then you get to the panic stage where there's no fucking way you can do everything and you're so so screwed oh my god ohmygod i can't breathe.  Then you kind of pass over to the point where everything is suddenly hilarious and you've strangely stopped worrying about anything... and your paper's not done and it's for tomorrow but... hey look at this great video on YouTube! Hahahahahaahahaaaaa!!!!!!!!

Yeah.  I've been on THAT high for the past couple days.  Now I'm like... literary theory, why SURE I'll read up on that for fun tonight!  You're right, there's no way in God's name I will ever finish Nestor's readings this semester!! Isn't it gonna be awesome?!?

Hahahaha.  I just hope this strange high doesn't wear off that quickly.  It's great for keeping reality at bay.  

right...

Things are getting back to normal, it would seem.  Back to class, back to teaching, back to combatting the karaoke beasts upstairs.  I can't believe they've driven me to another blog post... but there it is.  I haven't complained to them for awhile, but it seems they're as bitter as we've been about us complaining (not that I blame them, oh such stodgy folk are we serious students).  It's not like I enjoy knocking on their door to ask them to quiet down the kara-o-kay when the clock nears midnight, but it's a talent learned from rez life, just get out there and communicate! Yay!

... Anyway, they've stopped answering the door, it would appear, when they know it's me. I knocked... knocked... heard them talking, I thought, about me... rang the doorbell... definitely heard them talking about us (the vacuuming incident, so infamous it's become!)... and ok fine, I kicked the door a little.  What am I supposed to do when they know I'm down there but just won't respond... just walk away? Fuck that.  

They yelled down not to kick the door.

 I yelled up that I was going to bed. So thanks for wrapping it up.

I hate to increase the antagonism through any show of anger, but uh, I'm sorry. If my civilized requests are going to go ignored from now on, I'm at a loss of what to do.  I already try and turn up to my house as close to bedtime as possible.

I should have made them some desserts.  Maybe I should make some more and just try and start peace talks.  We should all learn a lesson from Gaza... fewer bombs, more desserts.

Oh, and Yellowknife was nice, by the way.

Happy New Year