La Rock

this about sums it up. actually. funny, isn't it, how relatable beyonce is in lingerie. 

I was told recently that the first thing that comes to his mind is "raw sex" and have since been seriously considering stalling the action in my life completely. I'm out (and this time I mean it). Decided after a dinner "with the wife" of tofu sandwiches over a glass of wine and dark chocolate, we came to the conclusion that celibacy is godliness in terms of eliminating drama in one's life.

And chocolate, she said to me as the cocoa dissolved in her mouth, is pleasure that's consistent.

I literally, and figuratively, fell hard on my ass about this one. Though my tailbone will recover, I'm not sure about my pride. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Funny what a time can do to one's outlook. I had sworn off La Rockette as a place of ill social engagements and disappointment last week, and wound up spending the long weekend there almost exclusively. Har. 

Ginger is in town and my heart has exploded. I can't even begin to tell you how easy it was for her to slip into my life here, speak French with my friends and be my Hutch. We've been walking together, up and down the side of the mountain, before and after bouts of total chaos and dancing, while marveling at Montreal and why she doesn't live here (yet). 

(Tuesday - random Remouski party. Wednesday- Slow Dance. Thursday - Fuck HOMA, Vive Hochelag, followed by La Rock. Friday - night in. Saturday - Silverdoor. Sunday - La Rock & La Fontaine. Monday - tripping. 3d Hubble movie in the old port, China, bikeride through Place des artes & Jeanne Mance chilling. Tuesday - La Rock. Fuck my liver.) 

Strange to say, but the last couple of days have really affirmed my life here. It takes an old friend, a fresh pair of eyes and ears and outlooks, to help you gage where you've been and where you are. "Three years!" we exclaimed, unbelievingly, as we shook our heads and walked to another adventure. 

It's not like we're established or accomplished or in a milieu or anything, but it feels closer to actually being home here. I walk around neighborhoods and regularly run into people I know - which is a small, but beautiful pleasure. 

What's strange about the timing in all this is that I'm about to move out of the home-y comforts and take on a new quartier. Since friends live two minutes in every direction from my (fingers-crossed) new apartment I think it'll be different and good, but I wonder what will happen to my French, my Francophone sister and being invited by proximity. We'll see. 

I've been considering Facebook, if you can believe it. Hah. But I'm not quite ready to take the plunge just yet. I need to start with a cell phone and work my way slowly. Total Luddite action.

xxxxxxxxxxx

I don't know why this all had to come out like this, but believe it has something to do with Ginger reaffirming my life. Ginger and Patti Smith, that is. 

LOCO