Snowball farce

"It's like Houdini in a casket. It's not doing anything now, but it will soon!"

It's official: engineers-in-training at every school are mostly lame. The above was said in response to a tensile test that was going painfully slow. I admit to its charm, though. I give props.

As none of you know, this past weekend was supposed to contain a massive snowball fight. I recently joined an online website (which may be the only type of website, I don't know?) in preparation for potentially going to Iceland over spring break. A group of people suggested a snowball fight in Parc Jeanne-Marce.  Of course, in my giddiness, I confirmed immediately along with 20 other people. The entire week I anticipated the epicness.

After a hard night's work, I got up reluctantly at 9 am on Saturday morning and took the metro all the way out to St. Denis, something like half an hour away. Even in -27 degree weather, my spirit could not be broken, or strangled to death by large icicles forming in my esophagus; a strange man, who I can only assume was an Hispanic-francoanglophone remarked as I passed by: "It's cold!". I agreed with a resounding grunt. It may have been a sneeze; I can't tell them apart any more.

I arrived at the park at 01120, a full twenty minutes post-haste (see fashionable), to find piles of snow and an imposing statue that marked the site. As I walked, I saw a group of 20 men in large white parkas and a gigantic tent. I thought: "Uniforms! This is going to be better than I thought." But I then I reasoned, quite logically, that I had not given anyone my size ... there's no way they could've guessed. Besides, they were homogenous, how could they field two teams?

The agreed meeting spot was the statue so I stepped through multiple feet of snow and climbed an icy staircase. Once I reached the plateau, I could see no one at all. Wholeheartedly believing in the sanctity of human relationships, I could not believe that 20 individuals would fail to show up independently of each other. Someone had to come! So I waited for twenty minutes. I watched kids play hockey and dogs with, of course, little cutesy boots. I even decided to watch the parka-laden men trod around in ritualistic manner. No one arrived. To be fair, I'll give everyone the benefit of the doubt: it was frigid and perhaps the herd had migrated after everyone was punctual (no way). Still, there should've been notice. At least an ice sculpture.

I could be bitter, but it did get me up on a Saturday morning that may have been otherwise wasted. Moreover, it has strengthened my desire to either organize or create an impromptu snowball war. Perhaps I'll solicit parkas.  

In any case, I threw a snowball at a snowbank as I left. All was not for naught.

heyooo: germans.

Making history

Truths about Canada:

1. iPod batteries dwindle from 4 hours to 4 minutes.

2. My snot has changed chemical forms in seconds upon entering the wild.

3. My jacket -- incidentally very warm in North Carolina -- is apparently not good enough.

4. It may be snowing in Durham. Irony?

5. The loonie and toonie are in fact quite useful.

6. Ice fishing looks popular.

7. Snow is a workout.

8. Happy post-MLK day!

I am ratcheting up the job search from many miles away. Although I am studying abroad, it's still time to get that mo-net. I've never applied for a job before, so it's quite exciting. I submitted a resume and a cover letter yesterday. Hopefully in reusing the same words I didn't leave any other-company-references in. That would be an oops-er.

The Canadians are no less excited about Bush departing as many Americans. A rando magazine in a cafe just happened to chime in. 

As for my opinion: I'm not sure. In leading, it is necessary to be confident in your direction. Bush was definitely confident. I mean, you must be confident to convince yourself and others that what you're doing is correct. But on the flip side, you must be competent -- unarguably the most important trait. I can't say he was. I believe he was too closed minded to really gain any full perspective. It was difficult and his presidency encompassed really intense moments, but that comes with the job. Hopefully Obama can eek out something positive and significant (what that is, I'm not sure). I know he's capable, but there's no telling what the next four years will bring.

So this is the first time I've lived in a place for an extended period of time that's not thirty minutes away from my hometown. I've often wondered what it was like or how different my college experience would be if I had chosen another school. One of the most significant changes is actually buying my own food. I've entered the can game quite strongly. Canned corn, canned beans, canned ravioli. Anything is fair game really. At first it was really convenient: a little can as an entire meal. But then it got pretty mundane: the same thing for an entire meal. As a result, I intend to spice up my food-stuffs. First, I should learn how to cook. Then, I should learn how to handle spatulas. 

Au revoir!

Finding solid ground

I made it! Through two straight days of -25 degrees Celsius. Centigrade makes most everything seem ridiculous. It's only around -13 degrees Fahrenheit. Hardly something to cry about. Still, I think I've reached a tolerance level for coldness. It actually hurts to walk places. Physical pain. The wind is killer.

The route to school encompasses 7-10 blocks (or maybe I'm exaggerating). At first it was fascinating, and it still is somewhat, but it keeps getting longer and longer.

I counteract the near-frostbite I receive on the way to and fro by buying a large cup of hot chocolate or similarly warm product. Somehow, the two -- weather and warm product -- cancel each other out. My personal challenge for the next few months is to obtain hot chocolate from every vendor in Montreal. It may be difficult, but I believe my constitution is up for it. Last night was Becky's birthday. She's one of my roommates. A nice, round twenty-two years of age. It's old, but not too old. Actually, it's not old at all. I'm rounding that corner, albeit in a year. But anyway, she decided to go to an Italian place that is BYOW. Fantastic. Pre-dinner, I experienced my first fall of the season. Stepping into the road, I slid perfectly onto my back. There was no back-breaking or butt-bumping, just smooth. It was almost majestic. 

Afterwards we hit the town. I'm always more fond of the dive bars (or relatively dive-y), just because they feel too comfortable. The other places are a little tense for me. I'll get used to it.

It also seems that in coming here, I underestimated the aridity because for the first time in my life I need chapstick. But now my lips are exceptionally smooth and soft. 

Just like that. Except I oftentimes do not wear lipstick, unless the occasion warrants. In some shape or form related: I actually wonder if the napkin kiss ever happens in real life. Like so:

And if it does: if it is that woman's sole form of writing her number. At what point is that acceptable? You'd have to have enough lipstick to make it happen. Half a mouth is hardly sensuous. I think my goal here will be to elicit such a response from a woman. Or at least get into a conversation about it. Either way, I'll update you.

Anyway, everyone here pretty much hates winter. Either that, or they fake it to fit in with everyone else. Even though it's pretty brutal, I can't help but wonder at the powdery beautifulness of it. Perhaps because I know I am leaving it at some point, or because I act like a small child. It makes for scenic routes and deep thoughts. However, it also makes for hard falls and trudgery. It's easier to slide than to walk in most cases. I don't see anyone else doing it and it probably makes me look awkward, but it's brilliant. For the entire route home the other day, I slid. I slid past banks, past people, and past one dog that had little dog slippers on.

The dog slippers didn't make sense at first. I'd seen it multiple times before in the short time I've been here, but I thought they were anomalies. The fact is: every dog here wears slippers. But after thinking about it, it makes good sense. There is a lot of watery grossness all over, so one would ideally want to keep that out of the house.

So I'm getting used to Montreal. Soon, I'll be able to walk around and not get lost hopefully. I've made a couple of friends, too. As a result, my new phone has almost 5 entries, yeaaaaaah.

I think I'm going to make a trip to Vermont next weekend, if all goes as planned. Ben and Jerry's here I come!

The adventure is rolling along

I'm in Montreal. I most likely forgot to tell you; or, I told you too many times. Anyway, I am here. Today was my first snowfall in a very long time. It was exciting to say the least. I consumed the hottest chocolate in the snow. It is the almost exactly what I imagined when I decided to come. It really wasn't that hot actually. The barista (is that what it's called?) put too much whipped cream on it so it tasted non-hotchocolatey for a little while (but nonetheless delicious).

My apartment is sweet. I've got my own cozy nook near the door, but I don't know how to close my own door. Maybe I should ask. 

I feel like I must justify my reasons for coming here for the nonbelievers. The most common response to my study abroad aspirations was "Canada? Why?"; which, to be fair, is completely normal. I came here -- well, I'm here -- to explore. But it's more wordy than that, as is usually the case with me. I came here to explore a big city (relatively), to explore a new way of life, and to explore (heyooo) myself.

The first part is wild. I've been to large cities before: NYC, New Delhi, London. I've seen tall buildings and too many people. I've never been comfortable. It's something about being completely surrounded with no where to be still. It's always moving with no reflection. It's difficult. Someone here actually had a different perspective when I explained this. I said to him that it's difficult to be alone in such a bustling place and he, being from NYC, said he actually feels most alone when there are so many people around. Which is true, but maybe I've never looked at it from that angle. Montreal is big, but not too big. It's Boston-esque. But it's covered in white powder right now, so I can't really see it.

The second: a new way of life. Man, oh, man what a life. I mean ... it's winter. It's hard to tell what Montrealers are like when things are actually nice around here. But suffice it to say that it is totally different than the confines of Raleigh/Durham. I've never had to wear a legit coat for more than two days straight. I think I've adapted pretty well; but when snow is driving into your face at millions of miles a second, it's hard to see. That was almost completely unrelated to the rest of the paragraph. I apologize. 

Myself! Yes, exploring myself. There are a couple of things I'd like to know. First, am I able to network and create friends in a place where I know practically no one? I'd also just like to see how I handle this situation in general. So much of this is adding a piece to the puzzle of my understanding of the world. I can read about things and listen to others about experiences, but I cannot completely understand until I live. The only way I know how to learn is to be there, in it, without reservations. It's beautiful and terrifying. But it's what life is supposed to be. 

So I've come here on a mission. How much I accomplish is probably up to me and that is probably going to be very minimal. It's the effort that counts though. If anyone has been to any really sweet Canadian cities or territories, or places really close to Canada let me know. Or even if you've met some really cool Canadians that are from some place, I'll try and get out there.