The Trip

[maribou]

Well, I started out trying to write this in a detailed and accurate fashion but I got bored. So this will be fairly scattershot.

Flying sucked much less than the last time I flew anywhere. I think this was partially because of being first class. I'd say it was the elapse of time, but, well, we flew on the 12th, so I doubt that was it.

The vacation as a whole turned out just about perfectly, with a good mix of time with loved ones, time with just Jaybird and no one else, time alone, time walking down Nostalgia Lane, &c. Oh, and I am officially on the expected to graduate list for November and have seen my own name there. WOO!

The first couple of days were spent with my Aunt Wilna and her partner Reza. I don't know Reza that well, although I do feel I know him a lot better now than I did before we visited them - his dry sense of humor is something I hadn't noticed before. Seeing Aunt Wilna was one of the best parts of the vacation - she pretty much treated me like a little sister (in the best ways possible) while I was in college and I am extremely attached to her... it was so nice just to be able to sit on her couch and talk to her while actually SITTING next to her....
She's in classes at the moment, so Jaybird and I spent Friday during the day just poking around Montreal with no set agenda. It turned into a giant trompfest - we basically got on the metro and took it over to my old neighborhood, had breakfast at the neighborhood Belle Province (fondly known as the Elvis Cafe) and then tromped all over the Plateau, before walking down through the park to the Sherbrooke bus, which we then rode down to Saint-Laurent. We then walked up Saint-Laurent, accidentally found a restaurant nearby that I love (and could never FIND when I went seeking it and actually lived in Montreal), walked back down to downtown, and took the metro back to Aunt Wilna's.

Yes, I still have the blisters.

We went to Ottawa overnight to see Megan. Megan is my oldest friend in the entire world. I mean, she's not old. She's just barely younger than me. But I've known her longer than anyone except my parents (and her parents I suppose). Her mom taught my mom bellydancing when we were still respective twinkles. The image of said moms bellydancing still charms me.

Anyway, the first thing we did in Ottawa was help Megan move a futon mattress across town so our sleeping place would be comfy. Futon mattresses are heavy enough that I didn't think I could actually lift one, so I felt all tough. I was also pleased because Megan has been under a load of stress lately, and while long phone calls and frequent emails are all well and good, I'd been itching to actually DO something that would be helpful. And creating a comfy place to sleep definitely qualifies. I got to see Rob Brandon too, which is not an Important Event, but was unexpected and pleasant (he and I, while not friends per se, were friendly acquaintances as we went to the same small school for years and had a lot of friends in common - if you spend grade school around someone and don't HATE them at the end of it, it's generally kind of nice to see them later).

We took Megan out to Fancy Fancy Expensive Dinner at a place called Domus, where we thanked the powers that be for the American/Canadian exchange differential and then proceeded to act like disgustingly rich people for the evening. It was an enormous amount of fun. We came back and Megan and I looked at her portfolios from college (which I had never seen) and talked and I love looking at her stuff... mostly it was just good to be around her though. I mean, here is someone with whom I've spent more time than any of my siblings - I think there were years when I slept more nights at her house than at my own - and now I see her once or twice a year. The funny thing is that the seeing her is still the default-normal stage, while not having seen her for more than 2 months sets up a low level anxious buzz somewhere in my depths.

The next day we made waffles and did laundry and went to the Museum of Civilization. Well, Meg and I did, Jaybird stayed home, napped, and played his Gameboy (which is pretty much his idea of a perfect vacation day). We spent almost all our time at the Museum of Civilization in the Canadian history exhibit, which entranced me... it was extremely friendly and touchable and full of intriguing small objects. There was a replica of a Ukrainian bookstore / general music supply store from early 20th century Winnipeg with which I fell in love... and the whole thing was just really neat. The ceiling is domed, and lit with the light of a northern twilight (a sort of shimmery serene blue which hints at the starry splendor to come). I think it may be my favorite museum.

We got back to Montreal that night and checked into the Sheraton Four Points... the room was unremarkable except for its largeness, and its view of the city (and the sheer variety of porn on ... ahem. not to go there.)

I had breakfast with Kim at some point. Kim and I used to be very close. Then I went to Colorado, and we kept emailing each other for quite some time, and then we stopped. I don't remember why. Neither of us was pissed off, we were just both overwhelmed by a number of things. I hadn't heard from her in a year, but I missed her, so I emailed her trepidatiously to see if she wanted to have breakfast.
And she did! So we did! We ate at Cafeteria, which was far too hip for its own good but had delicious food. And then we stalled having to stop having breakfast by wandering about for a while. I had forgotten how much I like that girl. I think we will try to write each other actual letters. We shall see.

I wandered through the various buildings at McGill. I sat up in the second floor loft of the Religious Studies library, where the disorientation was stronger than at any other time of the trip. It wasn't the disorientation of the unfamiliar, but of the overly familiar. Sitting where I had once spent so much time, with a view that almost exactly fit my expectations, I felt like I was visiting myself. Or visiting who I'd been. And I felt an enormous sense of relief... mixed with fond recognition... mixed with sheer overload from the amount of repressed memories (both good and bad) that came flooding back. It was intense. I felt physically dizzy. Luckily I had a railing to lean my head against.

I saw the professor who was chiefly responsible (though I doubt he knows it) for getting me through the last horrible semester of being in Montreal. He impressed me with his sheer courteousness (an undervalued skill, I think) - and he wanted to have lunch with me later in the week. Of course, I had left finding him til the very last minute (for reasons I won't poke at today), so we couldn't. But, I was pleased that he wanted to.

A lot of other good things happened. I saw my friend Ari for a couple of hours in the Toronto airport; I hadn't Actually Seen him in .. uh... at least 4 years, though we talk at least every couple of months, for hours at a time. Jay and I had an almost disturbing number of Holy Fucks. We took Aunt Wilna and Reza out to dinner; they took us out to dessert. And so on.

I feel like this trip pressed my reset button. I was utterly drained, exhausted and cranky when I left, underneath the generally positive emotions of day-to-day life, and now, at least for a while, I am fundamentally serene. It's a little strange... fundamental serenity is something that's been in the back of my closet so long that I forgot how comfortable it is.

I also realized that all my thoughts of possibly having become Americanized were foolish, and that if (Omnius forbid) anything ever happened to Jay I'd be back in Montreal in about a month. I'm still in love with the place. Just not as much as I am with my honeybear. That said, it is really nice to be home too. Perspective has been restored.

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[violentblue.livejournal.com]

futonium: element which gives futons their obscene weight relative to their size.