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Tuesday, July 05, 2005
qu'est-ce que tu fait...
dans le dernier semaine du jun?
ma jolie homegirl est arrive a Toronto. Le 27 de Jun c'est l'anniversaire d'elle. Nous faisons un partie surprise pour Liz. Regardez mes photos!
Attention! C'est un petit feu dans la cuisine! Regarder les touristes japonais en derriere-les otaku est arrivez!
tout le monde
Bon anniversaire, ma meilleur amie!
Pour le fete nationale, je veux a MONTREAL!! avec mes amis aka Les Jeune Filles. Francais est un peu difficile, non? Je suis fatigue... SWITCH!
I was so excited for Montreal for a few reasons:
1. I had never been to Montreal-I know, how shameful! (The only thing I really knew about Montreal was what I read in Duddy Kravitz. As such, I was constantly on the lookout for scrawny Jewish kids with beady eyes and uncompromising ambition strolling down St Urbain)
2. Summer road trip!
3. chilling with Les Jeune Filles
4. patioooooo-o!
We rented a car from Budget for the trip-a Ford Focus or the 4-door economy sedan equivalent. Sunny Ford days, here we come. So imagine our surprise when the clerk at the desk informed June and I that we had been "upgraded!" We both looked at each other with apprehension, visions of gas-guzzling SUVs dancing in our heads.
"Um, upgraded to what, exactly?"
"Oh, that car out there."
We turned... and laid our eyes on...
A Ford Crown Victoria.
A huge, Cadillac-like car of Buick proportions. Economy car, why hast thou forsaken us??!! June tried to negotiate with the clerk, offering to take the cute Toyota Matrix off their hands in exchange for the Crown Victoria. instead we were given some rubbish about the Matrix being a customer's car blah blah blah. It's not like we were leaving the country. Sheesh.
Anyways, June and I were right stunned for a few minutes once we got outside and observed our "car" up close. We kind of circled it apprehensively, not sure how to approach it, wondering if it would suddenly rear back on its wheels and devour us. To appreciate the enormity of the undertaking, let me show you the ancestry of the Crown Vic:
Yeah, it was birthed from THAT legacy. A tradition of big, American, and did i mention, BIG? June got in behind the driver's seat and I kid you not, the girl only took up half of the driver's seat. Thank goodness she found the seatbelt quickly, for I was afraid she was going to fall off the seat's precipice and be lost to me forever.
I kid and I joke, but really, our Crown Vicky was super fun to drive once we got over the BIG and BIGGER aspect of it. V8 engines all. the. way.
Look how happy June looks Friday morning, as she has finally mastered the Crown Vicky:
the money shot:
Getting to Montreal was a breeze, although there was a bit of a tense moment when I was driving. Totally forgetting about the inevitable Rip Van Winkle-like nap that overtakes my person when i sit in a moving vehicle with a full stomach, I decided to take the 2nd driving shift... after lunch.
"And the award for Most Blindly Enthusiastic goes to..."
Let's just say after a close call with the road shoulder, Mary drove the rest of the way.
I was tres excited to hang out with the locals. After all, my obviously BRILLIANT linguistic skills would mark me as a native Montrealer, for sure. Like, totalement. As such, I was able to discern between tourists and the real Montrealers.
Example:
the guy in the white shirt? the real deal. ca c'est bon!
the plant? so obviously a TOU-RIST. git back you Anglo-flora!
The first night's post-dinner activity led us to Club 737. There really isn't much to say other than if I had to, for some reason, design my own personal Hell, it would borrow elements from this experience. Namely the torturous sets of AWFUL AWFUL reggae music and skeevy high-schoolers jacked up on Red Bull. What a waste of a skirt. You might think from this reaction that I don't like clubbing. Gasp, quelle horreur! ;)
Day 2 arrived full of heightened expectations, and after a tastefully restrained shopping romp down Rue St Catherine, and a lovely patio lunch, Montreal was becoming quite easy on the eye. I managed to sneak off for Lone Ranger exploring while the rest of Les Jeunes Filles napped in our conveniently located hotel, probably worn out by their Adventures in Shopping. I found the Musee des Beaux-Arts, traversed up a really, really steep hill, and spent almost 20 minutes in a grungy parking lot trying to shoot rooftops and brick walls.
Evening fell graciously onto the MN, and we were determined to make amends for the previous night's horrors.
from Newtown restaurant's rooftop patio on Crescent St:
these were salmon tempura rolls. I almost cried in joy parce que they were so freaking delicieux. Sigh.
bon chance, bon gout.
the rest of the night came and went with considerably less distress than the previous evening. Mary and I even managed to sneak in a 3am BK run, though I held back from buying BK poutine. Je suis intelligent, non? After cramming in another patio meal and a failed St Urbain bagel mission Sunday morning, we found ourselves back on the 401, heading west. It was a really fun and challenging trip, and I'm so glad Les Jeunes Filles were so enjoyable and laid-back.
Goodbye Crown Vicky! You made the 401 quite bearable!
Goodbye Novotel! Your location made life (i.e. cab fare) much better!
Goodbye crazy taxi drivers! I hope to regain some of the years lost off my life because of your insane driving through yoga or something!
Goodbye multi-tiered patios! I shall mourn your absence when I am sitting in a TO patio that comes complete with exhaust fumes!
Au revoir!
dans le dernier semaine du jun?
ma jolie homegirl est arrive a Toronto. Le 27 de Jun c'est l'anniversaire d'elle. Nous faisons un partie surprise pour Liz. Regardez mes photos!
Attention! C'est un petit feu dans la cuisine! Regarder les touristes japonais en derriere-les otaku est arrivez!
tout le monde
Bon anniversaire, ma meilleur amie!
Pour le fete nationale, je veux a MONTREAL!! avec mes amis aka Les Jeune Filles. Francais est un peu difficile, non? Je suis fatigue... SWITCH!
I was so excited for Montreal for a few reasons:
1. I had never been to Montreal-I know, how shameful! (The only thing I really knew about Montreal was what I read in Duddy Kravitz. As such, I was constantly on the lookout for scrawny Jewish kids with beady eyes and uncompromising ambition strolling down St Urbain)
2. Summer road trip!
3. chilling with Les Jeune Filles
4. patioooooo-o!
We rented a car from Budget for the trip-a Ford Focus or the 4-door economy sedan equivalent. Sunny Ford days, here we come. So imagine our surprise when the clerk at the desk informed June and I that we had been "upgraded!" We both looked at each other with apprehension, visions of gas-guzzling SUVs dancing in our heads.
"Um, upgraded to what, exactly?"
"Oh, that car out there."
We turned... and laid our eyes on...
A Ford Crown Victoria.
A huge, Cadillac-like car of Buick proportions. Economy car, why hast thou forsaken us??!! June tried to negotiate with the clerk, offering to take the cute Toyota Matrix off their hands in exchange for the Crown Victoria. instead we were given some rubbish about the Matrix being a customer's car blah blah blah. It's not like we were leaving the country. Sheesh.
Anyways, June and I were right stunned for a few minutes once we got outside and observed our "car" up close. We kind of circled it apprehensively, not sure how to approach it, wondering if it would suddenly rear back on its wheels and devour us. To appreciate the enormity of the undertaking, let me show you the ancestry of the Crown Vic:
Yeah, it was birthed from THAT legacy. A tradition of big, American, and did i mention, BIG? June got in behind the driver's seat and I kid you not, the girl only took up half of the driver's seat. Thank goodness she found the seatbelt quickly, for I was afraid she was going to fall off the seat's precipice and be lost to me forever.
I kid and I joke, but really, our Crown Vicky was super fun to drive once we got over the BIG and BIGGER aspect of it. V8 engines all. the. way.
Look how happy June looks Friday morning, as she has finally mastered the Crown Vicky:
the money shot:
Getting to Montreal was a breeze, although there was a bit of a tense moment when I was driving. Totally forgetting about the inevitable Rip Van Winkle-like nap that overtakes my person when i sit in a moving vehicle with a full stomach, I decided to take the 2nd driving shift... after lunch.
"And the award for Most Blindly Enthusiastic goes to..."
Let's just say after a close call with the road shoulder, Mary drove the rest of the way.
I was tres excited to hang out with the locals. After all, my obviously BRILLIANT linguistic skills would mark me as a native Montrealer, for sure. Like, totalement. As such, I was able to discern between tourists and the real Montrealers.
Example:
the guy in the white shirt? the real deal. ca c'est bon!
the plant? so obviously a TOU-RIST. git back you Anglo-flora!
The first night's post-dinner activity led us to Club 737. There really isn't much to say other than if I had to, for some reason, design my own personal Hell, it would borrow elements from this experience. Namely the torturous sets of AWFUL AWFUL reggae music and skeevy high-schoolers jacked up on Red Bull. What a waste of a skirt. You might think from this reaction that I don't like clubbing. Gasp, quelle horreur! ;)
Day 2 arrived full of heightened expectations, and after a tastefully restrained shopping romp down Rue St Catherine, and a lovely patio lunch, Montreal was becoming quite easy on the eye. I managed to sneak off for Lone Ranger exploring while the rest of Les Jeunes Filles napped in our conveniently located hotel, probably worn out by their Adventures in Shopping. I found the Musee des Beaux-Arts, traversed up a really, really steep hill, and spent almost 20 minutes in a grungy parking lot trying to shoot rooftops and brick walls.
Evening fell graciously onto the MN, and we were determined to make amends for the previous night's horrors.
from Newtown restaurant's rooftop patio on Crescent St:
these were salmon tempura rolls. I almost cried in joy parce que they were so freaking delicieux. Sigh.
bon chance, bon gout.
the rest of the night came and went with considerably less distress than the previous evening. Mary and I even managed to sneak in a 3am BK run, though I held back from buying BK poutine. Je suis intelligent, non? After cramming in another patio meal and a failed St Urbain bagel mission Sunday morning, we found ourselves back on the 401, heading west. It was a really fun and challenging trip, and I'm so glad Les Jeunes Filles were so enjoyable and laid-back.
Goodbye Crown Vicky! You made the 401 quite bearable!
Goodbye Novotel! Your location made life (i.e. cab fare) much better!
Goodbye crazy taxi drivers! I hope to regain some of the years lost off my life because of your insane driving through yoga or something!
Goodbye multi-tiered patios! I shall mourn your absence when I am sitting in a TO patio that comes complete with exhaust fumes!
Au revoir!
// posted by naomi @ 4:14 p.m. 
