These are not fall colours.

October 22 and snowing in Montreal?
'Fraid so, blue planet...
The melting kind!

Medieval People

Wooh, it's been a while! No time for blogging when a girl's school is not on strike and no fun trips are being taken! That said, i did find the time to procrastinate long enough to put together this shoddy lil' video filled with winter-road-trip-idleness from last February.

It all began when i missed the last metro home on the eve of our departure. Tired, I opted for taking a 10 Euro cab ride from Concorde to Montmartre (that's expensive!), so i thought i should try to catch some footage along the way. 4 measly hours of sleep later, i met a friend for breakfast, which required taking the metro something like 9 times. Finally, it got to be road trip time. Over 4 days (that's slow!), we drove along the Loire, to Rennes and up to the coast to see Mont Saint-Michel, and then through the fields of Normandy on the road (to Rouen) and back to Paris. E. missed her flight home due to CRAZY outskirts of Paris traffic (horrible!) so we decided to console her over crème brûlée from "Les Deux Moulins." Proof:

My town's got a chinatown too!

Yes, it's true. I've left the Chinatown of Paris. No more 13th arrondissement for me. But it's okay, because that means I get to walk around the Chinatown of the world's second largest French speaking city, my hometown, Montreal! After a little under a year away and the longest chunk of time I've ever spent outside of Canada, I've learned to view the familiar through the eyes of a tourist, and by jove, it's kinda fun! The best part is, there are plenty of weird and beautiful things here too. Who knew?

Magic Gloves

One year on Christmas morning sometime in the late 80s, my stocking was stuffed with a pair of black magic gloves (most likely from Zellers or some place equally thrifty), that also happened to be sort of sparkly... Though magic gloves tend to be lost and replaced quite easily and frequently in the great white north, I saved my sparkly gloves (which I always called my Michael Jackson gloves) for my weekend figure skating classes and wore them without ever losing them until they fell to pieces. How magical is THAT? Other precious memories include spinning around on all fours as a toddler on my neighbours' slick parquet floor monotonously chanting: breakdancing, breakdancing, breakdancing...

I snapped this photo at the Jeff Koons exhibit at the Château de Versailles last December. Michael Jackson lives!

The lifestyle or the language.

There is a store in the Marais called Ben Simon. It's kind of like a tinier, more expensive version of Urban Oufitters. Or maybe Urban Outfitters is globalization's answer to stores like Ben Simon in the Parises of the world. In a word? Unaffordable. But cute! I used to live pretty close to it, and I enjoyed walking inside for a splash of eye candy and colour to contrast the beautiful but very grey architecture of the neighbourhood and beyond. Knit plush toys, prepare to be hugged in photographs forever. You want to go to Ben Simon but you can't afford the trip to Paree? I have just the post for your poverty stricken itchy feet. This is not Paris. This is Ben's basement.

I'm right again, I'm Chinatown

Let it be no secret that I absolutely ADORE the Chinatown of Paris. Nestled near the periphery in the 13th arrondissement, it’s more subdued than the North American Chinatowns I’ve visited, and at the same time, doesn’t really feel like Paris too much. I guess it makes sense that a girl who doesn’t really dig the local flavour might seek refuge in the city’s more ethnic neighbourhoods. Classy French Chinatown, you are one of the few things I will miss along with Jewish falafels, Sojade soygurt, and inexpensive (yet delicious!) red wine.

Back then the hunger artist captured the attention of the entire city

Last week I went to Prague on a whim and it was Flunching awesome. I cured myself of gangrene with a pair of toenail clippers in my motel room, got lost on a mountain, and lit candles in seven cemeteries. A taste!

The sun sets not at nine

Early may, and dusk has been lasting till almost 10pm! Here is the view from my window the last time the moon was (almost) full. Paris, like a piece of art you can't touch.

Oh, I also finally braved the crowds of people often gathered in front of the sparse counter of the Rose Bakery on Rue Des Martyrs to sample a soy latté at the only place in Paris you can get soy in your coffee other than Starbucks! Verdict? Totally decent. Provamel soymilk over the 'bucks watery Bjorg brand anyday, yes please. The staff were perplexed about my request not being on the menu, though. Amateurs be warned: ordering a "soy mocha hold, the mocha" might alleviate the potential complicatedness of your transaction. And because it took me months to track this place down, I will post it on the Internet one more time in hopes of helping lactose intolerant and vegan guests of Paris from around the world: you can get a soy latté in Paris, France, at the Rose Bakery! It even boasts two locations: 30, Rue Debelleyme in the Marais, and 46 Rue Des Martyrs in the 9th. Enjoy!