What I have Been Doing

I could apologize audience for dropping off the map, but I don't think it would go far. I am sorry that I have not updated this blog in a long time. However, I am not sorry for being focused on other areas of my life.

Recently, I have made a decent jump into something life-changing. I have decided to pursue programming. Now, I am starting at the absolute baby steps with HTML and CSS. Those languages are nothing like what my parents do for a living. Still, it is a path that I am excited to go down. Fortunately, I have the proper motivation to learn/practice my skills, a class.

Yup, I'm in a night school sorta situation. We don't have grades but we do have homework and projects. It is a small class, only twelve of us, but is fantastic every time. I am learning so much each day and can practice during the rest of the week. I love it!

My only strife is that some of my classmates drive me a tad bit insane, some are wonderful. Fortunately for them, skyscraper windows don't open. I am being a bit cruel here; most of my classmates are artists. The do not think logically or mathematically at all. So, even HTML and CSS cause their heads to spin when concepts become mildly technical.

I also have the advantage of having a semester of programming in my pocket. It isn't much, but it is something. Regardless, the class material rocks and my teacher is very talented.

The other thing that I have been doing is completely JavaScript challenges. So, this relates directly to the class that I am currently taking. There is an advanced course called the bootcamp. I really want to take the bootcamp because it focuses more on back-end web development and programming. That is my total jam!

However, in order to take this class, five JavaScript challenges must be completed. This is done after taking a short Intro to JavaScript course on code academy. I have, just today, completed my challenges. I had a week to take the course in addition to completing them. The entire journey I had fun.

Sure, there were some moments were I couldn't understand why I was seeing a syntax error, silly semi-colons, but those moments passed quickly. Instead, I experienced long hours of learning and applying new concepts in a new language. It was awesome!!

I realize that coding is not always enjoyable, code crashes suck. However, when the code works, it is a fantastic ecstasy.

If you would like to see my final programs, please click here, they are adorable. FizzBuzz is personally my favorite.

Thank you audience for listening to me rave about coding, you may here more in the future amidst some rants too.

Laters.

Spring Time Sproing

Spring is here!

Well, not according to the calendar but the weather certainly has arrived! Audience, you might be wondering why I, the biggest winter fangirl, am excited about spring. It just so happens, spring is my second favorite season. In fact, winter, spring, and autumn are all lovely seasons; winter just happens to be much lovelier.

As for the other one...Summer can go suffocate in the toxic heat buried beneath the Earth's crust. In other words, I loath that season particularly.

Whereas, the season of spring is always welcome in my heart and home. Required that it stays for more than two weeks a year.

You, dear audience, might be saying, "Mare, it is all fine and well to be excited for spring, but what has been happening in your life lately?"

Ah, yes.

Recently, I traveled to Vermont to visit my mother's cousin Morris. It had been many years since I had seen Morris, so this trip was a special treat.

I am working on piecing together something out of the ordinary, a different style, for that trip. Basically, I want to write a post about it that is set apart from my normal narrative. I'm leaning towards lyrical, heads up.

While that post is in the works, please be patient. If there was wonderful news about anything else, I would have written about it.

So, let us all look forward to spring, and hope that it is a long one.

Until then audience!

Some Sweet Things and Something Ridiculous

Howdy there audience! Now, some big events have happened in between now and then, then being when I last updated you. 

To summarize, first, my Grandma turned ninety-two years old! Way to go Grandma, and I hope you feel better from your cold. 

Second, I had an absolute blast at la Fête de Neiges with Michael and Costa. The tubing was absolute fantastic fun; even though you let go Rose! I even met up with one of my brother's friends from California, Cecelia, and experienced Apartment 200. It was fun though I stand by my opinion that I'm too old for clubs. France caused that realization. 

Last on our list is actually something very serendipitous. An old friend of my grandfather's is in contact once more. Her name is Marie-Lou and she hails from beautiful Belgium. Her granddaughter, Justine, found me on Facebook, she actually originally found me on G+ while I was in France, and messaged me about having a Skype conversation with Marie-Lou. I of course said yes and gave my Skype contact as well as my father's. Another happy birthday goes out to Marie-Lou for turning ninety five! This world can be amazing at times. I look forward to chatting with you, Marie-Lou and you, Justine.

Right-o, let us move on to the ridiculousness. Now, I am a lover of Youtube. It gives me great amounts of joy and entertainment. My brother is not as big of fan but sometimes he stumbles across something so hilarious and ridiculous, that I simply must share it with you audience. Please, enjoy.

Post Holiday Happenings

I'm back in Montreal audience. And, if memory serves, I promised all of you an update about my holiday shenanigans once I returned here. Well now, I will try to highlight my trip to Chicago as best I can without leaving too much out or rambling on minor details. Shall we commence? Yes, yes we shall.

Let us start with my journey back, with Rogue. This was the first time Rogue flew, on a plane. Well, it was two planes in fact; Porter does not go directly from Montreal to Chicago. For a first timer she did unbelievably well. She did 'mew' a bit right at the end during the customs interview in Chicago. Still, she was pretty calm and stayed quiet on both flights. Good kitty.

Of course, as soon as my mother and I arrived at my childhood home, Rogue's eyes were watering and red. She had been rubbing them raw. Off to the emergency vet! Turns out, she was fine, just a mild allergy to something in the airport. Her eyes were not damaged and she stopped rubbing shortly after receiving some medicine. For the second time in one day, we returned home.

Being with my parents, Amber, and the crafty Beast was a welcoming feeling that was only surpassed the next day; I picked Pete up from the airport, finally the family was all together.

After that, I had my hair dyed a darker shade, I was done with being a blonde for now, scrambled around for Christmas presents, went to a wonderful Christmas Party at Nay Nay's house, saw so many fantastic friends, had my nails professionally painted black, went to a Blackhawk's game, went to a Bears game (first time!), enjoyed New Year's Eve with friends, celebrated Cathy's birthday, spent a long afternoon in the city with my two childhood best friends KC and Timmy and played many many video games with my dad and brother.

Ha ha, that is everything in a nutshell. What I enjoyed most was being surrounded by so many people whom I adore. I did miss a few friends, unfortunately that happens with schedules and distances. Regardless, it was a vacation well spent with family and friends.

I was sad and happy to return to Montreal. It meant I wasn't near all of those fantastic people or the city that won't let go of my heart but it also meant I was closer to my other family and friends who awaited me over the border. Rogue and I returned to Montreal, with only a few shenanigans along the way (my keys were in LA for a short time), and together, collapsed on my bed in exhausted relief to be home. Montreal, you are my home for now.

Until later audience. I am back to applying for jobs and learning new skills.

Something Different and Old

Right. An update...so that is going to have to wait. I have much to tell you audience, do not fret, however you will have to continue being patient. Since I am visiting my family in Chicago, I want to spend as much time as I can with them. Blog posts do not happen without a decent amount of time and work. You will receive posts after I am back in Montreal. They help to keep my sanity amidst all the cover letters and job applications.

Before we begin with this "different" post, Happy 2016 everyone! I hope that your New Year's Eve was memorable and that you remember it on New Year's Day. Mine was both, aced it!

Moving on, the something different and old is a short blurb I decided to write on a whim. It is about prom. I was thinking about how I wished I could "re-write" some of my memories into being wholly positive. Now, that is ridiculous and flawed thinking; what happened has happened. No amount of conditional tense can change the reality of history. However, I did decide that writing about my foolish thinking might clear my head a bit. Happily, my head is much clearer. I have also decided to shared this raw blob of text with you as well audience. Enjoy a small window into my teenage years. One more thing, if you think it is biased, then you're correct. Of course it is! It's my personal writing. Only raw facts aren't biased, e.g. Don't drink mercury, you will be poisoned.

Alright, alright, I'll post it. Here we go audience.

If I Could Re-Write Prom

            As an ordinary student in the suburban area of Chicago, I went to prom my senior year of high school. My prom was not the worst; there are plenty of prom horror stories and mine was not nearly negative enough to be categorized as such. However, it was not best prom either. The nagging thorn, the primary reason that night wasn’t categorized as the best, was my choice of date. Yup, my date dented my prom night. Cliché as it sounds, it is true. The only other “thorn” so to speak of the night was my style of eyebrows. Realize that my eyebrows do act as a shaper to my face, important for pictures, but they are not as critical as your date choice. Why? Eyebrows never put you down no matter how much you pluck them; they are a very forgiving facial feature. Dates on the other hand, they can slash you verbally just for the hell of it, no plucking necessary.

            2010 was the year of my prom and was actually a positive year for me. I did not flunk any classes from “Senioritus” or make a habit of ditching school. Instead, I took advanced placement exams, sent out one college application, made it into college, and found the perfect prom dress online; all while I was making my eyebrows appear to be small smudges no longer than the width of quarter that floated helplessly above my eyes. That was the style, small and groomed with lots of room. Similarly, the style of boyfriend was a college dropout who had shared two years of high school with me. Oh yes, that was, and may still be, à la mode.

 He was a senior and I was a sophomore when we met. I never fell in love with him even though I tried to love him. He thought that he loved me but confused possessive obsession with the four letter relationship bomb. Both of us were unaware of our personal failures at grasping love, typical of teenagers. Still, we managed to have a decent relationship, especially the duration of the first year. Then, he dropped out of college.

Now, I’m all for people following their passions and their dreams; if you aren’t being challenged or something you thought you loved turns out to be something completely different, then, yes, make a change. In some cases, taking a year off from studying allows for a change in perspective and for new doors to be unlocked. This wasn’t his approach. His method was to whine about not having a job, a potential college education, or a license. He did eventually achieve those feats through the old fashioned technique of girlfriend meltdown and nagging. Those were not some of my fondest memories.

All of that mess occurred during my senior year of high school. Sure, we had fun dates and said “I love you” to one another, like a normal teenage couple. We also argued about stupid things and avoided talking about important things, like a normal teenage couple. Above all, we went to prom together, like a normal teenage couple; what a mistake that was. In fact, the idea of me wanting to go to prom at all baffled my future ex boyfriend.

If any of you know what it is like to not normally be considered a “beauty queen” or “girly-girl,” then you have some perspective on my teenage insecurity. I did not know how to use make-up properly (this was before I saw Michelle Phan tutorials); I dressed in oversized ripped jeans and black t-shirts; My hair was just there, nothing fancy but always clean. The only thing that matched the times were those squiggles I called eyebrows, god bless them.

Despite all of that nonsense, I was excited for prom. As previously mentioned, I had found my dress online. It was a Jovani dress, beautiful in its simplicity. The dress was strapless and spilled onto the floor in puddle of swirling fabric. It only had two colors, black and pink. I could have chosen red in place of the pink; however, cherry blossoms are simply meant to be a shade of fuchsia. The black shimmered and the flowers cascaded down; I was in love with a piece of fashion.

Fortunately, my mom agreed. We called the shop, in New England no less, and gave them my dress measurements. A size was picked and off it shipped, all the way to Chicago. When it arrived, I immediately wore my new prize. Boys are nice but seriously, perfectly fitted dresses are a complete improvement. I had my dress. All I needed was my date.

Ladies and gentlemen, would you have said yes to someone who asked you to prom via note and voodoo doll? I did. He was my boyfriend and I felt compelled to say yes, despite everything else in my head screaming no. Oh the red flags of hindsight, I despise you. It was original, I’ll give him that. It was creepy, I’ll give him that too.

After that prom-posal disaster, I continued to prepare with a spa treatment, hair styling, and even professional makeup application. Nails were there too, with two of my best friends of course. I had the works done and felt amazing. One of my best friend’s even had her mom take pictures of us with a green screen and smoking camera, free of charge. Seriously, everything naturally happened without snare or cancellation. Almost, there was the aforementioned thorn yet to come.

Would you have still gone to prom with your date after they told you that they were disappointed in your appearance because, “you look better natural. I don’t like all, this,” when referring to your hair, makeup, and dress? Unfortunately, I did. Yup, he really did say that to me on the way to prom. Good thing my mascara was waterproof.

You might be wondering, how was my prom at all positive? Simple, prom is for friends. Sure, we all take a date but prom is the finale for the seniors, the last dance. Spending it laughing, dancing, and smiling with friends is what makes it fun. That’s what I did the moment I stepped in the venue. Yes, I still had to dance and be around my date (he was my ride and had finally earned his license). However, I socialized and snapped pictures, in between small talk, with my plethora of friends the entire night as well.

My date knew the senior socializing was going to happen; I had explained that to him months in advance. He still pouted on the date because he felt it was “his prom” even though he had done the dance two years prior with all of his friends. I dated a short Madonna.

His grand moment of drama was when he scowled during my slow dance with my childhood best friend, Timmy. The first thing out of Timmy’s mouth when we started to dance was, “you look amazing Mare, and that dress!” He always knew, and still knows, how to make me smile. All my date could do after was explain how awkward it was for him and Timmy’s future ex. Too bad, best mates before prom dates. After all, prom is for spending the night with your friends, not stuffy dates who put you down. Before you assume a sappy ending, no, my childhood bestie and I are not dating nor are we in love. We’re best friends who fortunately shared a dance at our final dance.

So, if I were to re-write my prom experience, I would not have gone with my high school boyfriend. That decision probably would have ended my relationship right then and there. So, what? It wasn’t going anywhere; plus, it had an Alamo ending a mere four months later. Instead, I would have gone with a best friend and just had fun the entire night. He would have told me I was beautiful in all my makeup and curls. I would have mentioned how well he cleaned up in formal attire. We would have smiled while we danced with everyone with which we shared high school classes and memories. It would have been platonic and perfect.

Sadly, I can’t re-write my memories. They are what they are. The negative experiences are there as mistakes etched in permanent ink. On the flipside, everything magical and full of happiness is just as permanent. My friends made my prom night special, not my date.

I didn’t have the best prom because taking a friend instead of your boyfriend was not considered socially normal. My prom date, a teenage boyfriend, was like my in style eyebrows; short, squiggly, and in desperate need of growth and fulfillment. At least I can say, in full confidence, my eyebrows did achieve all of that and I have never been happier to see them framing my face. Who needs a dumpy prom date when you have on point eyebrows and the friends you shared prom night with all years later? If you said yes, seek help; prom is for teenagers while friends and eyebrows are for everyone, always.

                                                                        -End-

That's my little story that sorted my head out. Time for bed, I need to catch a train in the AM. Oh, if any of you are wondering if I still wear the dress, I do wear it, more than I'd like to admit on the internet. Ciao audience.

Quick Intermission

Hello there audience. For those of you unfamiliar with my writing, I love to do intermissions. What they are is really just a quick post to let you know I'm still here, on this little piece cyberspace. Lately I have been focused on applying for jobs, I've actually had two little interviews, and working on my French in an unorthodox way. To put it simply, Animal Crossing. Yeah, that' a game that owns part of my soul. Animal Crossing, Super Mario World, DK Country 2, Skyrim, all have about two percent; the rest belongs to Zelda respectively. In any case, I can play Animal Crossing New Leaf in French. So that's how I've been "applying" my studying. It does use a lot of language.

Right, intermission. So, I'll be back in the States soon and hopefully will have a real update before then. The update will involve more interesting things than my video game addictions; those are saved for my other blog.

Until then audience.

Oh, and here's a lil video of my living rock star Brendon singing a rendition of one of his newest songs. Enjoy <3

The Bewitching Week

"Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered." 

Ah audience, what a lovely lyric. It is is one of my favorite songs to listen to, especially when sung by Frankie. Something about the annotation and notes. Hmmm.

Besides being lovely, the lyric is also a great reference to my past week. When last I left you audience, I was talking about my shenanigans in Montreal as well as my G+ chat with Paula and Kate. Those were good times. Time for some more to roll. Let us begin with Halloween.

So this year I spent Halloween with my family in Brockville, namely my cousin Ember and her daughters Keira and Chloe. Rogue and I made the trip out Friday night without too much trouble, though there was more traffic than anticipated. I spent the evening chatting with my uncle Lou and my grandma, over tea of course. 

The next day, I woke up late and dressed myself in costume. This year I decided to be Red Riding hood because I already own a red cloak from when I was fifteen, vampire costume. I even had a "basket of goodies" assembled; it was a little plastic cauldron that acted as my purse. Em and her family were in costume too. Adam, her husband, was an 80's rocker; Ember was a Dia de Muertos sugar skull skeleton; Chloe was Minnie Mouse; Keira was Zombie-locks. We made a colorful group for sure. 

While Adam and Em set up the house for their Halloween party, I took Keira trick-or-treating around their neighborhood. A few times, I had to wrap the little zombie in my cloak to keep her from shivering. In Canada, Halloween night can be quite chilly, though I was prepared with my long red hood; this is such irony for events later on. Anyways, it was great fun going door to door with Keira though people kept trying to give me candy too. I appreciate it, but honestly I'm alright.

Once we returned to Em's place, the girls took their place at the door and I helped as best I could in the kitchen. Thank goodness for waterproof eyeliner and mascara; I don't do too well with onions. Not long after, guests began to arrive and the party began. It was such fun being a part of another holiday celebration with my family. I was even able to spend time with my cousin Victor and his two adorable monsters Vincent and Zachary. Plus, Keira awarded me the best costume medal; it now hangs proudly in my room. The only snag, well I hate the Mets and KC won that night; this was the night before the World Series win...everyone else was for New York. Sorry Easterners, this Chicagoan is not about to cheer for New York any time soon. Kill me if I do audience. I would be a traitor to the feathers, claws, and horns. 

The next morning I left early on for Montreal; this was not by choice. Enterprise closes early on Sundays and I needed to return the car that day. I wasn't even able to have a cup a tea before I took off. I packed up the white bundle and away we went. Besides, we had some cleaning to do.

Moving on to my second adventure of the week, it was a very bewitching one. I was playing host for a friend, even though he told me not to worry about hosting. Oh yes, I said he. From Monday to early Friday morning my beloved friend Blaise paid me a visit in Montreal. He drove from Michigan to Montreal in one day and managed to arrive in one piece, phew; there was a slight issue with the border patrol but Blaise managed to be allowed through, again phew. I spent the previous night and the day of running around cleaning and trying to make my apartment appropriate for guests. Around the time of his arrival, I heard a knock and there was Blaise. It's a good thing he's a lot taller than I am because I almost toppled him with a jump hug. Best surprise ever.

The next four days were amazing; we went out to the movies, grabbed some first class La Banquise poutine, went to the grocery store (as requested), and even walked around the hockey stadium grounds. Basically, we explored Montreal hand in hand. 

Besides running around, we relaxed in the apartment with the great white buffalo (Rogue) as well as watched Galavant, South Park, even played a bit of Skyrim. Mostly though, we spent our time talking while listening to various playlists on my computer. Well, there was a night when Blaise insisted on playing Spooky's House of Jumpscares; he did it and I'm still surprised. He even made it to level 200. Still Blaise, why?

Something silly we came across near La Banquise

He left around 4:30 AM on Friday; rental companies, please make your hours later cause you're killing me here. That was hard. Really hard to let him go but was worth it. Completely, utterly, worth it to have him here for those four days.

For those of you who don't know who Blaise is, he's one of my favorite people in this world. My best friend Kristin introduced us back in April and pretty much ever since we've been close. He's kind, honest, loyal, funny and puny, intelligent, and the best hug giver in the history of always. I love him to pieces and always want him to happy. Yeah, for once I want a guy to happy with or without me audience. So strange for this salted individual; at least I'm well seasoned because there's nothing worse than food that is too bland to taste. Haha. Alright, I know if I keep gushing about him that I'll hear about it later. I'll stop, ok? 

The last bit of my week was yesterday in fact. Suitable, covers just a little over a week of time. So yesterday, I went to the park. This park was not nearby either. I managed to successfully on my own, via bus timetables and the metro map, navigate the Montreal public transport system. I was and am quite proud.

A beautiful afternoon

So why was I going to this park? Well, I have mentioned that Kileen and my dad were childhood bestfriends. As you know, my dad is not an only child; Kileen isn't either. Kileen's sister Mary is also, obviously, a close family friend to the Scales (this is the only time my name is plural). Mary has a large family of her own, four kids, and two of them live in Montreal, Caro and Michael. Caro is my age and Michael is a few years older, around my brother's age. I was meeting the two of them and some of their work friends at the park for a picnic. And who says you can't enjoy a picnic lunch in a city? For the record, as a child and to this day I will have picnics indoors on a blanket. Yes, I'm that kind of chick.

This technique works so well

This picnic, anyhow, was fantastic and very "grown-up". In other words, there was wine. Apparently, in Montreal, you are allowed to drink in public so long as you have food accompanying the alcohol. Works for me. There was a generous spread of food and drink to go around. I was able to learn more about Michael and share more about myself as well. Caro showed up a bit belated but we were able to spend time together too. It's funny, we all have just met and yet I do feel a strong bond with the two of them. I really hold on to the notion that we'll become great friends. There was just one small problem...

I love winter. Like, really love winter. It's one of the reasons behind my move; I want more. That being said, I occasionally underestimate my tolerance for the cold. I wore a sweater, jeans, and a summer sweatshirt to the picnic. That ended up biting me. Now, I didn't complain about the cold, no way, rather my body started doing that thing everyone else does when it's mild out...what's the word...oh yeah, shivering. That thing. I started doing that, bleh. Well, Michael and everyone started to huddle around me to keep me warm though I insisted it would be alright. Then Michael wrapped a blanket around me; in that moment, I could only think of how I had wrapped my cloak around Keira. Ah, shoe's on the other foot. 

That was the snag, just that. The picnic, socializing, making new friends, all of that was wonderful. Hell, this week has been wonderful. I do hope that I can discover more in this city to love soon; that's almost a 100% guarantee. Though I am still searching for a job, probably will be for awhile too, but don't worry audience. As always, good things come to those who wait. And, well, they are always worth the wait too. 

Until later audience.

New Fashions

Hello darling audience. My last post was very serious; this post will be far more relaxed. Balance and all that.

So, I have been in Montreal for almost a month now, lil over a week away. I have been busy traveling and gathering supplies for Rogue and myself. However, the past few days, more like the past week, I have been productive in some sense. Allow me to explain, if you please, the five events of productivity.

Firstly, I voted. That's correct audience I voted in the big election that swept through Canada. Now, on one of my first posts I wrote about how I wasn't voting; the reason I stated that very blunt statement was because I believed that I couldn't even if I wanted to vote. In the States, you have to be registered several weeks in advance in order to vote in the elections. I thought that the same would be true for Canada. Nope.

I went into ETS, l'école de technologie supérieure/ the superior school of technology, where they were holding the polls. Initially, I was going to vote in English; except, I decided to keep my mouth shut and listen instead. I voted in French. It was a lot of fun for me to register and mark an "X" on the little slip of carbon paper. Fun but was different from the States.

Literally the first image that comes to mind
with politics

In Canada, one does not vote directly for their Prime Minister. Instead, they vote for the district representative of the party they support. This can become sticky if the party in favor has a not so likable district rep. So, as a voter, you have to decide which is more important, the local or the national. I voted for the national. No, I'm still not revealing my vote to the internet. More fun for me!

Moving on to the second event, my hair. So I needed a haircut really badly and was skeptical about going to a salon right away. The issue was my fringe/bangs, too long. Thus I thought, hey internet, help me to trim my bangs. Wrong choice. Fortunately I put the scissors down before all hope was lost. You'd think I would've learned my lesson when I was five and chopped my hair off after making one of my doll's bald. Nope, still an idiot.

So, I now had to go to a salon. I decided that I'd have the works done; color, highlights, a trim, a saving of the bangs, and a style. I chose a popular salon in the Eaton Center mall, Mat and Max. This also gave way to event number three, but we'll touch on that in a bit. For comical relief, let's switch tenses.

I take the bus to Mcgill Thursday morning, everything is fine. I am early so I wander around, everything is fine. I check in and they offer me a coffee while I wait, everything is fine. My stylist can't speak English, crap.

Hold it audience, I know what some of you are thinking. But Mary, don't you speak French. Yes, je parle la langue, et, à ce moment, je ne suis pas encore en courant car il faut que j'aie la répétition. My mentor from college would probably have a field day with that rambling sentence, still, my point is somewhat made. I do speak French, rather fluidly too, but when it comes to my hair, I struggle even in English to convey what I want. That's why the stylist relationship is so important; you find someone who speaks your hair preference and magic is made. I've only had three stylists who did that for me in the States, three. To expect me to instantly click with someone who doesn't speak an ounce of English and have full faith that they can dye, cut, and style my hair the way I want to for the price I'm paying, that's a tall order. Plus, I requested an English speaking stylist so it was a genuine surprise.

Fortunately, my listening skills far exceed my speaking skills, in French only. I was able to understand my stylist and eavesdrop on the clients around me without much trouble. And, there was an assistant who's first language was English who helped explain what I was I after. Even that, the English part, ran into a few walls because, well it's hair. I did remember the word for darker at least; no, not sombre, but foncé. It was an experience and honestly, it worked out very well.

Cheers to new hair styles and adventure!

I don't know if I'll go back to that salon, it was nice but I didn't feel the click. I need to find a place here that clicks just like in Iowa with Buzz, and just like in DG with Colorific and Hair Taylors. Don't worry, she received a good tip for fixing up my fringe.

And moving on again, wow this is becoming a long rambling post. Right, the thing that was assisted in happening because of the hair appointment, ha. I now have a bus pass. Yes, I, Mary, the great and powerful Dragonborn can now right the bus with a rechargeable pass rather than coins. This is serious step up from Le Havre's bus system and even the one they're trying to implement in Chicago. Yay for Montreal!

Why did my hair appointment help with this? Well it put me downtown to where I could buy a bus pass. That was a big help. The next event was me becoming lost. Very very lost.

It is a good think that cellphones have maps on them and that I can walk for a long time. Initially, I wanted to take a bus back to my apartment but I ran into some difficulties, well one in particular. Montreal is undergoing serious construction right now which means that many streets are torn up which means many bus lines have been altered which means I was screwed on that.

I ended up going the opposite direction, Chicago your street signs spoiled me, towards Old Montreal instead of towards the stadium. Again, thank goodness for maps. I just navigated myself back towards the Bell Centre and was home in good time. Not before stopping at the ETS bookstore though. I now am the proud owner of Alice in Wonderland, or should I say Alice au Pays des Merveilles. Hey, I need to practice remember.

At last we are at the last event of the week, or weekend really. Yesterday I had a videochat with two of my bestfriends, Kate and Paula. These girls, for those who are unaware, were with me throughout my adventures in France. The three of us were together constantly during our first semester. When Paula left the second semester, Kate and I continued to keep up with her as we continued to trek on through mishaps and happenings in Le Havre and beyond. After the year was over, we still kept in contact. Paula and I visited each other in the States and I went to Scotland to see Kate for New Years. We are very much the international three musketeers.

Unfortunately, the three of us have been busy this past year so we weren't able to formally have a videochat for a lil while, That ended, horray, Sunday when we all coordinated, sort of, our clocks and signed into Google hangout. It was awesome.

The three of us are silly. Kate, Paula, and me.

I miss those girls all the time. After all, we spent a lot of time together through thick and thin. It was great to be able to recap what had been going on with all of us and share our reactions. Rogue even had some camera time, lil fuss ball. Hopefully our next chat will be far sooner than later. And who knows, there might even be talk of visiting our old meeting grounds in upcoming years.

That's all for now audience. I am continuing to apply to jobs and ignore the fact that I need to buy food soon. All is going well at the moment and I can only hope that my misadventures will turn out better than my adventures. More to come this weekend and next week.

Cheerio for now...I still can't say that. Laters!

Toronto in Memories

Hola audience. This post, well it will not be full of sarcastic comments or jokes. It's actually a serious one. So, if any of you are not prepared for something closer to home, go to buzzfeed; they have posts dedicated solely to cute kittens. As for the rest of you, let's go.

This past weekend I visited Toronto, yes, the Toronto Ontario. It is a city that I have experienced before in great joy because I have closer than close family friends living there; two sets in fact. The Gordons, Charles and Kim, live in Oakville which is a suburb of Toronto. The other pair is the Scotts, Mike and Kileen. The latter pair is the one I am going to focus on.

In order: My dad, Kileen and my uncle Paul.
My favorite photo.

Some background info, my father's family the Scales have known the Tuckers (Kileen's maiden name) for many many years. In fact, my grandfather and Mrs. Tucker met in an unusual way; Mrs. Tucker thought some strange man was following her home one day, he took the same turns as her, but he in fact lived in the apartment across the hall. This man was my grandpa. Ever since that day the Tuckers and Scales have been close, especially my dad, uncle Paul, and Kileen; the three of them even have a series of pictures of the three of them taken over the years. Suffice to say, my brother and I grew up visiting Kileen and her husband Mike in Toronto, frequently on our way to Brockville. During my college and adult years we saw Mike and Kileen just about every time we drove up.
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Mike is an amazing person. Not only is he quick with a joke, but he loves to share his passion of baseball with everyone. He coaches an adult league, which two of his sons play in, around the area. He also advocates for a younger league that, "keeps kids on field instead of the streets." He is an all over baseball fanatic and of course, a huge Jays fan. He and Kileen occasionally have tickets to the games and are the kind to go rain or shine in order to cheer for their team. He is also in love with music; fortunately for everyone around him, Mike can sing. On top of all of that, fun fact, Mike knew Rush, yes the band, and had jam sessions with them right before they hit it big. You can't be any cooler than that.

Kileen is her own brand of awesome. She is the definition of loving. If you are lucky enough to be in her heart, she will always show you how much she adores you. Kileen isn't just hugs and smiles though, she's smart as can be as well as a dedicated professor. She teaches various nursing classes and holds administrative positions. I could never be a nurse, not a fan of wet labs, but I admire those who can, especially Kileen. She is a powerful woman that I believe everyone should strive to be like.

The Scotts are wonderful people, seriously the kindest couple anyone could ever meet. Well, now for the serious part.

Our last picture together.
Yes, Pete is giving me Moose antlers.

September 30th, that's a dark day. I received a call from my mother that Mike had died. The truth is still difficult to swallow and will be for a long time. This was the second death for me this year alone; both were during the month of September; both were completely shocking. The other, I'm not comfortable talking about here yet, maybe someday, but not right now. This past weekend I was in Toronto for Mike's memorial service.

The service itself should be recorded in history books; it was held in a movie theater. Mike touched so many people in his life, not a surprise, and all of them who could be there, were. There was a slideshow of hundreds of moments of Mike, beautiful speeches shared, and music, one of the songs he had written himself, was played in his honor.

Mike will always be an important person in my life. He is a friend, a family member, and a mentor; every memory I have of him makes me smile as they should. My thoughts and prayers are with his flesh and blood. My heart is with the love of his life, Kileen. May we all be strong together.

So here's to you Mike; shake up the afterlife as much as possible. Cheers man.

A Thanksgiving Special

The United States is not the only country to celebrate Thanksgiving. Thank goodness for that. Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays; I know what everyone is thinking, "that's because you're not the host Mary." Ha, well you have me there audience.

Gobbles!

Traditionally, I celebrate Thanksgiving in November on the fourth Thursday of the month. I help prepare the house with my mother. My dad is in charge of the yard work, namely the leaves, and also assists with cleaning. Year by year I've steadily increased my responsibilities until I was the sole person in charge of desserts as well as assisting with appetizers.

This year, I will not be joining my family in the States for Thanksgiving; this is the second occurrence of this tragedy. However, unlike France, I have a kitchen with an oven and access to North American supermarkets. So when November rolls around, I'll give myself a lil solo dinner for my second Thanksgiving dinner. Yup, Thanksgiving already happened in Canada. Remember audience, it's a bit colder up here.

In Canada, Thanksgiving is celebrated on the second Monday in October; technically in the Atlantic provinces it is an optional holiday though many people choose to celebrate it because hey, banquet of food. Like its American counterpart, Canadian Thanksgiving's origins are not entirely clear; French settlers having a feast, Frobisher searching for the Northwest Passage, war against GB, etc. However, its purpose as a modern holiday is to be thankful for what you have and celebrate this with those whom you love. So, this past weekend I packed up my bags, and my cat, and went to Brockville Ontario to spend the holiday weekend with my relatives. All in all, it was an adventure.

My baby all buckled up.

The first day began with me driving to Brockville. Honestly the distance is not bad and takes about two hours. Well, being that it was the Friday of Thanksgiving weekend I underestimated the outbound traffic of Montreal. Three pluses from that experience:

1. The seats in a Chevy Cruze are quiet comfortable
2. I am a Chicago driver
3. Rogue is very good in the car

Sorry Canada but your drivers tend to be more timid and leave giant gaps between cars. Downtown traffic taught me to be more aggressive when lane switching; remember audience, I had my precious darling with me so I wasn't reckless just forceful.

Once out of Montreal, traffic was a breeze. I made it to my Grandma's house without trouble and found a handful of relatives waiting for me. That was a wonderful feeling of love.

Now, the rest of my weekend, Thanksgiving stuff excluded, consisted of spending time with Grandma, brewing tea, buying things, namely a mop and ironing board, for my apartment, hanging out with my cousin Ember, drinking tea, and listening to different viewpoints on the Prime Minister election while drinking more tea. No, I'm not registered to vote. And no audience, I will not tell you for whom I am in favor. That's a guarded secret that would surprise nobody. Back to Thanksgiving.

The Best Part

Saturday night, I went out to dinner at Boston Pizza with my Grandma, uncle Paul, uncle Lou, aunt Sheila, and aunt Bernice. I have never seen Boston Pizza so busy before. Then again, I often go with my brother when it's past normal dinner time. It was a bit noisy but that didn't stop our family from enjoying supper (uh oh, it's happening Dad) and conversation. Funnily enough, three of us ordered Hawaiian pizza as our dinner; though my aunt Sheila and I had bacon rather than ham. After dinner, we all returned to my Grandma's house for some traditional pumpkin pie. Though I am not one for sweets, I make an exception when it comes to pumpkin pie. What a great night and fantastic company. It was followed by another fantastic two days.

Sunday and Monday I spent time with my cousin Ember and her two daughters Keira and Chloe. Keira is seven and quite the hot ticket; man, that saying ages me by several decades. She is the most adorable little girl and like yours truly always has something to say. Chloe, who is four and super cute, is less social than Keira but opens up once she is given some time to adjust to new people.

Keira with Maggie the cat.

The four of us spent Sunday at the park and then retired to Em's home to watch a few movies. We ended up watching A Bug's Life which has my favorite Pixar short (Gerry's Game) and one of my favorite actors, Kevin Spacey; chess and Kevin, ah yes. The next movie was a Halloween favorite, Hocus Pocus. Em and I did have to assure the girls that Binx was happier as a human ghost than as a black cat; still they were upset when he died. Oh yeah, Spoiler Alert to anyone who hasn't seen one of the most iconic family Halloween films.

Damn she's cute.

The next day, Thanksgiving Monday, I returned to Ember's house for Thanksgiving dinner. This dinner consisted of a more classical meal; turkey, stuffing (oh the stuffing), mashed potatoes, cranberry jelly, gravy, rolls, and pumpkin pie all in one sitting. I was struggling to move a bit after two plate fulls of food but like every year, it was worth it. We then watched the Blue Jays while we digested our feast. I returned to my Grandma's with leftovers and chatted with my uncle Joe and aunt Maureen for a lil while.

The next morning I headed back to Montreal, Rogue in tow. She was a well behaved cat and enjoyed her time at my Grandma's very much. I can tell that she misses stairs, maybe I'll make some for her out of cardboard, but in time she'll adjust to the apartment. Everyone was fussing over her while I was there. I almost think they wanted to see her instead of me. Ha ha, I can't blame them, she's pretty darn cute.

Once I was home in my apartment I just relaxed. I enjoyed a movie, some ravioli, and my new flannel sheets and comforter. This place is slowly starting to feel like a new home.

And as Linus would say, "Happy Thanksgiving Charlie- I mean Audience!"

Welcome/Bienvenue!

Salutations my audience.

As many of you know, since I know many of you, I have recently relocated to the city of Montreal; yes, the Montreal that is in Canada. Though this puts some distance between my darling Chicago and me, it is the start of a new adventure, a rather scary adventure. The type of adventure is called adulthood, shiver.

Yes, I am off in the world to discover everything that pertains to adulthood, as defined by yours truly of course. First there's, well, let's list this:

• Finding a personally worthwhile career.
• Tricking a man into being a life partner/husband, eventually. There is nothing on the horizon at the current moment.
• Learning about Canadian taxes. Fun.
• Fluency, en français. Oui, c'est une tâche nécessaire. 
• Making mistakes and reflecting upon them. For starters keeping Google up to date.
• Exploring my new country as well as my old one.

That's a small list of some very large tasks. How in the hell am I supposed to find a career that personally suits me? Am I to just stumble upon it after sifting through endless job titles and applications? Probably. And a dude to marry? Oy, that thought is way too heavy for me.

In order to stay positive about all of this, I have taken into reflecting upon my past experiences already. Many things are wonderful about my life; my friends, my family, my cat, my love, my GameCube. These aspects have taught me that life can be serendipitous when you allow it to be. Instead of searching with too much purpose, for instance for a husband/wife, or no purpose at all, the professional travelling hobos aka Kerouac, I have found that applying myself to whatever job/person/assignment I deem mandatory and really pushing myself to see things through has worked out well. I have been rewarded by good fortune in so many areas.

Sure, I've suffered too. Heck, this year alone has taken away two people permanently from me; both deserved many more years. But that's life. It's the good and the bad. It helps to focus on the good, however balancing the realism with the fantasy seems to be the ultimate outcome of happiness, per observation. I can be a smiling pessimist and a dreary optimist; both are balanced and both seem to cancel one another out; oxymoron is how I roll.

Ha, look I'm rambling again. Wasn't this supposed to welcome you to the blog audience? Sorry about that. I can become carried away with my thoughts. Which is, in fact, the purpose of this blog. I want to share with you my thoughts, my experiences, and my pictures of what is to come in my adult life. I will not promise daily updates, go to France for that, but instead will give you what I can when I so choose.

Now let's relax and enjoy the fact that this is the first post. So fresh. So appetizing. Fingers crossed this one doesn't become stale.

My love to those whom I know,

Mare