2001-06-16 || 11:04 a.m.

Last night.

Last night at about 3.0am (okay, this morning, then), I was walking home from Parc Lafontaine (to Westmount, by the way. Those of you who know Montr�al can appreciate how long *that* walk is), I came across something enchanting. Boulevard Saint-Laurent is still widely considered to be the demarcation line between the English and French sides of the city. It is also a funky, funky street with a healthy merchants' association, and as I turned onto St-Laurent, I came upon the last dregs of the blocks-long fashion show/street sale that the're having this week. The stores were closed up and the wares put away, but there were still people about, though they were mostly leaving by then. There were two men dancing on the street; sort of a leaping, swinging dance, along to the rhythm created by about a hundred passersby, who had stopped to watch and were clapping. The spectators were chanting in some sort of a wailing, rhythmic cadence. A choir of strangers, spontaneously formed and soon to break up again, but for the moment, it was utter magick.

As I walked down the Main, I saw more and more people everywhere, augmented by the closing clubs, I guess. At the point where the street sale's temporary fences crossed the street, there was a legion of garbage trucks and street cleaners idling, their drivers leaning on the fences to smoke and watch the young dancing on the street, walking towards the restaurants (it's a 24-hour part of town), or just standing and talking.

As I went further, crossing toward the McGill Ghetto and passing a 24-hour Pizza joint, I saw a woman walk out with a pizza and join her boyfriend, who'd been holding their dog outside. The dog wagged its tail and stood up to sniff the box, only to be pulled back down by the man, who was laughing.

And I remembered something that I had forgotten, living in Westmount and rushing home from the pubs at 2.0 to write a bit before bed. I remembered that Montr�al never, ever goes to bed.

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Addendum
This morning, I met J at the market and got a few breakfasty things. We sat with Best Friend in our solarium eating Croissants, a baguette, brie, and two pat�s (bison-and-blueberry and Caribou-and-berry). Hibiscus tea for me and Jamaincan Blue Mountain for the boys. Of course, berries go well with Port, so we absolutely had to have a glass... Then spent the day arguing with my computer, trying to get it to agree to becoming a linux server for the rest of our machines. It dug its heels in and just shook its head 'nu-uh-uh-uh-uh...'

I'm gonna take a bat to the bitch, I tell you.

Then I went and met up with the Swiss girls I've been showing around. The air was still hot and heavy as molasses, but someone must have heard my cries for help, because a hole appeared in the sky and we got *pissed* on. Thunder, lightning... the whole bit, I say. The. Whole. Bit.

Um, which is why I'm here now instead of galivanting about Vieux-Montr�al with the girls. We recessed to change and dry out a bit...

Actually, the only reason I've just bored you with all this is because it segue's nicely into something I was supposed to mention: Mystie, when I was complaining to you that it was 38 degrees out, that translates into 100.4 degrees in the archaic system. Trust me, I was *hot*.



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older shite

One last little note... - 09.21.2006

de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006

Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006

More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006

Scary stuff - 05.25.2006

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