Montreal - Part 1





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Summer in the City

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My steps lead me back down Montreal's green little alleyways for the summer. The last of my furniture was in my old room, overlooking Parc Lafontaine. It felt comfortable yet foreign. I hadn't laid foot in it since over six months ago. One by one, I reunited with memories. An ice cream cone wrapper. A quirky post card. A note to myself on a public transit ticket from another city. "Don't Panic" - I was reading the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy at the time, and used it as a bookmark. Two of my bikes were waiting, with a bunch of old running shoes and piles of books. I started packing boxes. I moved to Vancouver almost a year ago, but I don't think Montreal will ever stop feeling like home. A friend and I went to Kem CoBa for the first time this year. Their daily soft serve was a swirl of Dulce de Leche ice cream and Pear sorbet. I ate it first, and followed it with gnocchi in homemade tomato sauce sprinkled with freshly grated cheese from la Dro...
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First time nerves are often the worst

  A million damning possibilities have yet to make way for silver linings and rays of sunshine.   Come to think of it, I believe it is an incredible luck that there has been so much written about courtesans and their lovers. Passages recounting trysts made me blush as I looked over my shoulder, making sure no one was noticing what I was feasting on. The details of adventures, lace and soirees intrigued me and enchanted me - getting to know a person in such an intimate way appealed greatly to me.   On the other hand, everywhere around me was this pervasive message that I was expected to act a certain way. As an adolescent I remember being told by a family relative : "Oh my dear, ladies don't apply rouge at the restaurant table." I had only finished my meal and found it foolish to shield the world from the view of me re-applying a soft pink lipstick. I turned to her and asked why that was, that this ritual should somehow be hidden. The explanation left me unsatisfied a...
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