Showing posts with label Canada. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Canada. Show all posts

03 October 2007

Quebec Photos, Plus-Bonus extras!

These are my peeps doing birthday things, London-style. London, Ontario that is! Represent zoo animal part hats! Happy Second Birthday, Dorein!




Did anyone mention that I am gay? Well, if not I am sure that everyone found out when I spend a whole day crafting an Elmo cake. Hurray!



Quebec's trees even dress better than ours here in the District of Colombia.


This sandwich, smoked samlon and tomato on olive bread, would cause Cosi to explode into a supernova of failure. It cost $1.75 and is the best sandwich I have eaten if four years. A woman named Chloe or some other ridiculous French name made it , and she called me mon cheri.



OH MY GOD THE CHEESE. The reason the rest of Canada couldn't let Quebec separate is because they are hooked on this cheese, the crack of the Quebecqois. I don't blame them. I envy their addiction.


Looks like the Pope used to kick it here too. Good for him.


I'm sorry, do you not live on a ski mountian? Oh, what a pity. I don't either, but I did get to for three days and it was fantastic. I pretended it was all mine, and when it was taken from me, I vowed revenge. I was also kind of lonely, ne pas?


Even the bridges are ridiculously photogenic. Really, I am telling you, I have found where I will emigrate to. I will live under this bridge in a box. And eat fish from the river. And enjoy nine months of winter.


MY NIECE! She has gotten so cute, and also ornery, which means practical jokes will abound soon.

10 September 2007

On the Road


Whoohoo! Work's done, severance pay delivered, office supplies
repurposed. Now it's time to take a deep breath and consider the
future. Or, rather, it will be time to freak out because no matter
how calm and composed I may appear, I am screaming a bit on the
inside. More than a little bit. I'm on a plane as I write this, and
the seatbelt sign just dinged, signaling unlimited possibility and
possible terror. Hurray!

27 August 2007

Ô Canada! Terre de nos aïeux

For all of you nay sayers, you can just shut it. I love me some Canada. It's nice. It's polite. They have excellent beer and people don't die just because they don't have insurance. I harp on about it, I am aware of this. But really, it's quite a feat.

Also, it's nice to have Canadian friends. They are just like us, except normally slightly better. Like this friend here:


This is C. We met her during the Tsunami. She has, at different points in her life, saved both Christmas and dinner. She later moved into our apartment in Japan. She is basically, as the Quebecois would say, "Le Totally F***ing Awesome". She can drive a boat.



She can also look mysterious in an arty-style picture while driving a boat. Well done! Oh, the practice she put in to that. Also, she is an amazing water skier. I, you will be shocked to hear, am not. What? I know. Your previous assumption that I was perfection in male form has been shattered. It will be ok. We will heal together.



I do look quite fine *in a boat*, I think we can all agree. Where is sexy J.? He had to take pictures this trip because my camera is broken.



These are C.'s sisters. They are hilarious. From left to right, we have J, ever smart and attractive, C, smart boat driving Le Awesome, S, who just graduated from Halifax and is full of hilarity, and M, who pulls off being both some sort of super intelligent being AND able to ice skate. The talent was non-stop, I tell you. We were eating a delicious feast of grilled things. It was raining outside, so it felt very drunk-swiss-family-robinson. Good times.



The LCBO is where Ontarians buy the liquor. I think in other provinces they buy it elsewhere, but it's hard to tell. Ontario is huge. It's cold in Canada, so people need a lot of liquor. I am apparently, for some unknown reason, demonstrating that we are experiencing a slight decline.



What's better than relaxing on a deck on a lake? Drinking Bloody Caesars on said deck.



Like I said, it was beautiful.




This is C's family dog, Jersey. When she said it's name was Jersey, I raised my eyebrow and asked "Like the cow?". C stared at me as if I had just pooped on the floor. "No, like the candy bar. She's brown. Like chocolate. It's not very original." No, but it is confusing for someone from a country where they don't have Jersey Milk Chocolate Bars. This dog is the most fun dog ever. We played swimming fetch, where by I throw something into the lake, and she goes to get it. Or, I jump into the lake and the dog tries to drown me/love me with her sharp, sharp claws.



That's right: Trees. Like it.



This is one of those things that doesn't make sense until you try it. Poutine is french fries with gravy and cheese curds melted on it. Heart attack in a paper carton? Oh yes, yes indeed. It was delicious. I would eat it again in a heart beat. Or lack of heart beat, which ever happens first.



It's OK to eat four pounds of grease if you are doing it outside.



For all of those who grew up in flat-square-state America, I am sure you will recognize the IGA, which was probably your hometown grocery store. It was kind of dusty and the only sold apples, potatoes and mac and cheese from a box, but you hung out in the parking lot being really cool in your jean jacket. Canada has IGA, too. This one sold avocados, duck, rabbit, and tins of foie gras. Will the wonders never cease? No. No they shan't.

So there it is: it was an awesome trip. Driving up there, I felt that maybe taking a six day trip that required twenty four total hours of driving was a mistake. But it was totally worth it. Plus Bonus!

Up Next: Moving this weekend! Next Friday: Last day of work!