Yes. I am that smell.

I am, miraculously, sitting in the airport.

I woke up to K, calling me from outside my house. She only offered to give me a ride yesterday. Had she not, I would be asleep or cursing myself.

Yesterday I finished a marathon of marking - a seriously impressive feat, I may add, marking 146 exams in 2 days - and went to Ye Olde Orchard to have dinner and a beer with my fellow TAs, Claire and Kristin. I also invited the students from my conference, and three actually came.

Long story short, I was doing tequila shots at 2:00 am that were bought for my students and I (everyone else had left about an hour or so earlier), packing at 4:00, waking up an hour before I had to be at the airport.

My mother called me yesterday to assure that I would not "look sloppy" when I got off the plane - we are touring my dad's new business acquisition straight from the airport. I took much offence from this phone call.

And here I sit. Greasy. Hungry. A touch dehydrated.


And She Ra has peed all over herself.

Sorry fellow airport patrons.

let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

It is finally really snowing in Montreal. And it is beautiful. Thank God I convinced myself to go to yoga rather than cuddle in for the afternoon - otherwise I would have avoided the beautiful snow storm outside indefinitely. And it really is lovely. Not too cold. Not too windy.

So, after getting back from yoga - which, coincidently is a great way to warm up when it is chilly out - I ran in, switched my cowboy boots for Sorrels and my H&M coat for the Canada Goose Montebello Parka my mum gave me for an early birthday present, and grabbed my little camera to experiment in the snow. I have been thirsting for a slightly more professional grade camera (more professional than a drop-proof handheld Sony - not that I do not adore the graduation present from my brother), but the little Sony did pretty well.

Here are some photos from my romp:

It's been snowing steadily since my breakfast with K

Also, I wanted to include my favourite Christmas carol. It is perfect; festive, fun, reminiscent of an age where Dean Martin's lyrics would have been considered charming, not date rape. Sigh - I love December.

Saturday in Montreal

I feel like today is the first day I have really lived like I live in Montreal.

The day started relatively early. Kind of. 8:30 am, and I was awake, but opted to stay in bed reading an excellent book which I inherited from the charming Melina, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. It was, of course, not long before She Ra had plopped right down in my arms, completely obstructing my view of the book, as anyone who has spent much time would know is a cat's favourite past time. But anyone who knows my cat knows that moments of affection are rare, so I embraced it, that is to say, her, and fell back asleep.
I woke up after receiving a text from Claire, with whom I had a lovely day planned. We went for brunch at Cora's to fulfil some Halifax nostalgia (yes, I am aware Cora's is originally from Montreal - this was made especially evident today as, on our way out, we were rushed past by CORA). After brunch, which was at 1:00 as opposed to 11:00 as Claire and I had originally set our hopes on, we went to the Musée des beaux-arts de Montréal to see the Cabaret Rouge: The Terrifying and Beautiful World of Otto Dix exhibit. It was amazing. It had been so long since I had been to a gallery, or had done anything intellectually stimulating on my own motivation and for pure enjoyment really. I love Otto Dix and his talented perversity. I bought a wide array of postcards (did you know Dix painted landscapes? Me neither, but they're really very beautiful). And, because afterwards Claire and I did some shopping and I shelled out 70$ for a replacement battery charger (they only had a universal one! How do I ensnare myself in these things?) - I can show you their lovely arrangement in the apartment which you have not really gotten to see.

The Wall! Isn't it awkward to try to figure out where to put pictures on a totally blank wall? Well I tried my best.

Portrait of the Lawyer Hugo Simons (1925). I adore his hands.

Reclining Woman on Leopard Skin (Portrait of Vera Simailowa) (1927). Note the hyena in the background. Did you know that the hyena is a symbol of prostitution? It puts all that I know about the female spotted hyena into a strange perspective.

Randegg in the Snow with Ravens (1935)

Half-Nude (1926). I found this portrait, which I had never seen before, extremely powerful. It nearly brought me to tears. I had told my supervisor that, while I respect Otto Dix's talent, that I would not want his representations of women on my walls. But now I do. I find it truly harrowing.

Claire, ready to get her burger on...

Then Claire and I rounded out our day together with an indulgent burger from my brother's favourite burger place in Montreal, Buns (though it is a strong competitor with Picks apparently). It was delicious, and seeing as I had a giant fruit plate today as opposed to the eggs benedict I so badly wanted, justifiable. I am going to snuggle down now to make some study notes for my class for tomorrow (we are meeting at Ye Old Orchard to have a beer and prepare them for their exam on Wednesday). A solid couple of hours of work, listening to this fabulous song by Deerheart, the Breakdown, which, yes, I discovered on the Gossip Girl soundtrack (don't hate, the song is still fabulous), and then Claire and I are going to meet up again to go dancing!

 Maybe I do like Montreal...

And here is a glimpse of the apartment. She Ra and I are having a chat. Sadly, my favourite feature, the Kokanee Girl Calendar, set to September, just didn't turn out...

On Day 2 My True Love Best Bestow onto me: Keihl's Creamy Eye Treatment

I wouldn't even be mad at the insinuation that my face is starting to resemble a blood hound's!

This cream is that good.

$25.50 for a .5 fl. oz pot

I received a tester of it after I went and bought the ludicrously priced, sinfully indulgent Creme de Corps Soy Milk & Honey Whipped Body Butter. The salesgirl asked if there was anything I would like to try, and, somewhat surprised, fetched me a sample of their avocado based eye cream. I do not think there is anything weird about being a (nearly!) 23-year-old woman who uses eye cream. That is the point - I don't care what Olay says, there's no reversing the signs of aging. I have to keep this skin in the immaculate condition it is in now.

What is particularly lovely about this eye cream is that it solves a problem you don't even realize is a problem until you try this. And no, it isn't anything to do with the quality your eyes - a sort of "I never realized how horrific my eyes really looked until I used Kiehl's!" No. If you have ever used eye creams before - I have used Olay's Regenerist Eye as well as their Regenerist Advaned Anti-Aging Roller, and have also tried out another of Kiehl's eye creams, the Abyssine Eye Cream (my kingdom for anyone who can tell me what Abyssine is, because all that comes rushing to my mind are cats) - then you may very well be familiar with the experience of having rich, innovative, anti-aging technology developed in the Swiss Alp/Paris/New York by top dermatologists seep into your eyes. They water. You cry some tears. You wash away most of the cream that is the culprit. This eye cream from Kiehl's, either serendipitously or purposely, I'm not sure, addressed this issue. It is such a viscous formula that is stays put on your eye where you dab it. I realize this may sound unpleasant, like globs of sickly green cream weighing down your lids, but this is not the case. You need to thoroughly dab the cream around your eyes, but it will go on clear, and you barely need any. A little sample envelope last me 2 weeks, morning and night application.

So buy some today for the friend you do not want looking like this:

also for Christmas, you could get me a Bloodhound puppy. So. Cute.

Oh, and before I forget, the use of avocado for skin treatment is as old as bad 90s talk television. If you don't think that it is worth the 25.50 - that is at least one dinner out with friends, or about 5 bags of peanut butter M&Ms - you can just follow the sage advice of Jenny Jones:

Existential Blogging Crisis

The more I peruse the beautiful blogs of my friends Aly and Kathy, the more I realize how inadequate my blog is.

I fail to tantalize you with beautiful pictures - I lost my camera's charger swiftly upon moving, and have never been able to recover it - my posts are essentially rants on a variety of topics, which I certainly do no research or preparation for, and I am embarking on no great adventures to retell.

I voiced this concern to my darling Heather, who, incidentally, had a very short-lived blogging career. She assured me that she likes the blog, mostly because it propagates her internet fame.

"The Narcissist in me loves the Narcissist in you." - Heather.

For my lack of direction and visual aids, I apologize. I can only hope that you will endeavour with following these posts until I reform my ways.


This said, I will be commencing my Christmas countdown with an ennumeration of the beautiful things I would like to be mine this holiday season - or, the less narcissistic way to look at it I suppose, my gift recommendations. My house currently smells like freshly baked gingerbread, and I can't resist plunging somewhat prematurely into the holiday spirit. I even listened to the Channukah Song yesterday.

Starting off this countdown, as I am currently quite chilly and find my sweater collection severely deficient (my mother would kill me for saying so - she doesn't think I need a single additional article of clothing - how wrong one woman could be) , I stumbled across this beautiful sweater. I want it on me. Right. Now.

Michael Kors, studded cotton blend V-neck, 175$

I have been lusting for more studs in my wardrobe (you can read: hot guys in my pants, and sure, but not what I meant in this instance), and this sweater would quench that desire. And without shoulder pads. I can't do this whole shoulder pad look that is out this season. I have lovely broad shoulders as is, and just as I will not work out my traps, I will not wear shoulder pads in my t-shirts and sweaters (for outerwear I will maintain an exception).

An End to Movember

I have to say, I kind of love the thought that goes into Movember. "Let's do something we want to do anyways and make money doing it!" Money, of course, for a good cause.

It is perhaps too late to be posting on Movember - we are, after all, a mere 34 hours away from December. But better late than never I think.

To commemorate this Movember, here are some pictures of my favourite people with moustaches' moustaches!

Chopper: moustache since 2007

Cliff: moustaches of the world unite

Geoff: one creepy moustache

Jobby: the lazy man's moustache

Too Many vs. Not Enough

This is a philosophical reflection on the opposing struggles essay authors find themselves in. It is simultaneously a means of procrastinating confronting one of these very same struggles. It's like bottled water; good for you and good for the economy (while simultaneously being the bane of the environment - I am great with analogies).

So you start writing a paper that needs to be a relatively daunting 6'000 words.

After 2 days of work, near completion, you could be in one of two positions.

You could be running a word defecet. Your brilliant argument has run its course through to an infallible and thoroughly supported conclusion and, yet, you are somehow 1'000 words short. Anything else you would be adding would just be verbose nonsense, and you run the risk that your professor will notice that fact. Any other arguments you could think to include would be tacked on and not as thoroughly researched or integrated. And we all know that, no matter what is said to the contrary, if your paper turns out to be sub-par, it had better be sub-par and long, at least suggesting you put an effort in, than look like a half-baked work of sheer sloth.

Alternatively, you could have a serious surplus. You have reached the required word count, but you are still a 1'000 words, minimum, away from reaching your conclusion. To reach the word count you had philosophized and researched such a variety of topics, structured the paper to include them in logical progression, and then realize your desire to be thorough and well informed has left you without your kitchen sink. And how will you do your dishes then? Do you abort your as-of-yet unwritten argument, and risk that you paper does not really reach its proper and predicted conclusion?


As a T.A. this semester, I told my students that it was certainly better to have too much than too little. If you have too much, you get to practice your editing skills and can afford to polish and cut arguments/sentences that seem wooden and contrived. It is better than grasping desperately at straws, right?

I think I was full of bullshit.

I have yet to include more than my introductory thoughts on my final argument of my paper, and I am at word count. I just want it to be done. I thought writing 6'000 words would be the hardest thing I would have to deal with. Now I'm looking at a possible 8'000 words. The worry is that I am not sure how strong my existing argument is - it wasn't the one I was most interested in, I just saw it as the most necessary, the one which most obviously needed addressing, and which my knowledge required the most supplementing by fresh research. But I wont be able to do both arguments adequately in my remaining space, even if I do allow myself the customary 10% margin of increase/decrease.

Ok...I guess I just have to write the damn thing, right?