Leaving for NY

Today, Montréal cries for us. Jo, Jason, Claire, Dane and I leave for
New York tonight and on our last day here in Montréal it has rained
endlessly. I am sad to leave, but I'll be back next month, so the
heartbreak is on hold.

Montréal is a beautiful city full of cafés, bars, restaurants and
shops with character. The houses are painted bright colours and have
winding iron staircases up to the balconies on two stories. There's
always something to do and see, without it being overwhelming. It has
been very warm - sometimes as hot as our summer in Australia.

We stayed with my parents' friend Anik in Longueuil which is just over
the bridge from Montréal. Every day we got up late, bummed around, and
went out in the afternoon when it started to cool down. Then we drank
beer, ate poutine and came home on the last metro or crammed into a
cab. We hung out in the downtown area of the city - the Latin Quarter,
the Plateau, the Gay Village, and just on the edge of the very hip
Mile End. Our favourite pubs were Foufoun Electrique (electric arse)
and Casa del Popolo, which had bands and tasty nachos and samosas. We
tried poutine from three places: Patati Patata (blah blah), Burger
King and a 24 hr place the name of which I cannot remember, most
likely because it was last night after several pitchers of beer.

Yesterday I met my long-time internet buddy Daniel La France. We've
been friends online for around 8 years and yesterday we met in person
for the very first time. I thought it would be weird, but with the
miracle of Facebook he already seemed familiar. We ate some hommus and
drank beer at Casa, then walked to Mile End for fresh bagels from a
famous 24 hr bagel place. I had cinnamon and raisin, and it was chewy
and delicious. then we went down to Old Montreal to meet the rest of
the gang, buy some beer and watch the fireworks. I think the friend
date went very well. haha. he is also on this email list, so forgive
me Dan for writing about you as if you are not also reading this
email.

There are festivals on the street in Montréal every day. After their
brutal winters, Quebecois like to squeeze every drop of fun out of the
summer days (and nights). One festival, Jus pour rien (just for
laughs) brought Irish comedian David O'Doherty to a little theatre on
St Laurent. He was on spicks and specks a few times:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pz4f_e02RFM
He is a very funny man and I love him. Afterwards we waited outside
like creepy stalkers and then when he came out, we jumped him! I mean,
we shook his hand. And then something very strange happened... I
started laughing, and I couldn't stop. For the 5 minutes we talked to
him I laughed hysterically. I asked for his autograph and he drew a
picture of all of us. And Claire took a photo. As we climbed higher
and higher into socially awkward territory, my hysteria grew. He
promised us free tickets to his show when he comes to Sydney next year
and I said, 'I promise next time I'll laugh LESS' (meaning if I ever
meet him again I will try hard not to be a massive dork) but that only
served to further confuse a very confusing moment of human
interaction. One of Dave's jokes during the show was about what ROFL
means, and as we walked down the hill I screamed 'I'm going to ROFL!'
because I could barely walk. and only 15 metres away from Dave I sank
to the ground, belongings scattered, and had to be pulled up to my
feet. Hilarity. Rather embarrassing hilarity.

And so...

Highlights of our week in Montréal:
-Climbing to the top of Mount Royal and seeing the giant cross lit up
by lightbulbs (even though we were eaten by mozzies)
-Walking up and down St Laurent, talking to young Quebecois shop assistants
-Getting a haircut at Coupe Bizarre from the bassist for Pony Up!
-meeting Daniel. yay!
-seeing Marmots in the park on the river. They are so fat and shy.
-picnic on Mount Royal with homemade pasta and longneck coronas.
Getting freaked out by squirrels.
-heaps of cute dogs. little ones and big ones. dogs are well manicured
in Montréal.
-apricot beer, marble cheese, chocolate croissant, almond croissant,
dill pickle chips
-staying with Anik, a very, very kind woman!
-flaunting my meager French. I managed to buy food, try a a little
smalltalk with taxi drivers and shop assistants, and politely reject
flirtatious old men. haha.

We're off to stay in the New York Loft hostel in Brooklyn, which may
be in or on the border of Williamsburg. Claire wants to go on a Regina
Spektor pilgrimage. I'm going to call my friend Claude, take my
friends to meet Maggie, see a band at the Mercury Loungue and hang out
on Houston Street. We'll check out Williamsburg and go see the
touristy things. hooray.

Hope everyone is doing well. See my photos on Facebook!

xo

Of Montréal

Today I got a haircut in Montreal at a very cool salon. It was all white and modern inside and the employees were all young and attractive. I had to phone for an appointment and ask on the phone 'Parlez-vous anglais?'. I'm pleasantly surprised at how prevalent French is here. As I was talking to my hairdresser I found out that
she is the bass player from Pony Up. She was really lovely.

Montreal is a gorgeous city with lots of cool bars, shops, buildings. people are amazingly friendly, everything is different because it's in French. Anik says my pronunciation is good. I even tried a little smalltalk with the taxi driver tonight. I'm getting more confident by the day.

In the afternoon Jo, Jason, Dane, Claire and I climbed to the top of Mount Royal. it took forever and my feet kill, but we saw the giant cross lit by light bulbs. kind of
surreal. the city is warm and safe and chilled out. I want to live here.

Everything really does happen in Manhattan

I'm in New York! And on a very different note to my last holiday season post...


Happy 4th of July! Today I woke up late after my first sleep in about 36 hours. I'm staying with my aunt's friend Maggie who lives on the Lower East Side in Manhattan. She is a journalist and photographer who lives in an artist collective 3rd floor walk up. 'Walk up' means no elevator. Figures. Maggie works at the Mercury Lounge on East Houston (pronounced 'Howston') and she knows EVERYONE. it's very impressive. For example, I showed Maggie an underground travel guide to the LES (Reverend Jen's Very Cool Neighbourhood) that I purchased online a few months ago and Maggie said, 'Oh, Jen! I haven't seen her around for a while.' And today I asked Maggie if she knew Richard Kern the photographer, and she said 'Yeah, Richard rented a room on the ground floor just the other month.' Crazy.

I have had my own brush with fame as well. My plane was delayed at Sydney airport for 3 hours which meant that I missed my connection at LA to NY. On the rebooked American Airlines flight I was sitting next to a man that moved and read at a frightening speed. When the hostess denied his request to purchase some business class nuts (they are crazy about the class system in the US) I offered him my paltry Starbucks smoked almonds, which he gratefully accepted. we got talking and he found out I was a writer and I found out he was an editor. he asked me to proofread a story and tell him if it was interesting. later I got talking about zines and he asked if I had any with me and I offered him 'In Sickness' which he read, and loved! AND... offered to publish the conclusion in his magazine, Trace: http://www.trace212.com/ What the fuck? I'm networking like a fiend and my plane hasn't even landed yet. To loosely quote Kundera, the birds of fortuity have alighted on my shoulders. I rang Claude today and he said I'd be famous in 3 weeks. We'll see about that. I think you need to be pretty tough to last here. On the plane over I was thinking about my goal for the year (to toughen the fuck up) and I thought to myself 'I more closely resemble a bag of jellyfish.'

Tonight I tested my toughs by spending a whole TEN MINUTES on my own in the city. After we watched the fireworks from Fresh Salt, a bar near the harbour that Maggie's friend owns, I headed uptown with some Asian guys I met at the bar. They seemed pretty friendly, if a little annoyed at my insistence on stopping to pat a giant fluffy black dog and a tiny little terrier, as well as talking to a kid about his golden retriever. We caught the subway - air-conditioned to icy bliss after the clinging humid streets - and ended up in a bar that serves 5 shots of anything for $10. It even says that on the sign above the door. I went to the bathroom and when I got back they had ditched me! I guess I namedropped 'boyfriend' too often (to avoid excess knee-rubbing) and they realised there was nothing in it for them anymore. Instead, I was followed around the bar 5 times by a creepy Latino guy who wanted to buy me a beer. I gave him the slip, asked the bouncer how to use a payphone and went to call Claude, who was at home (in his Wall St Condo with swimming pool) and then I hopped in a cab, tipped the driver 5 times more than I should have because I was so relieved I hadn't been abducted/shot/stabbed/raped and now, here I am stealing someone's wi fi. I tell you what, guys - this is the life. I love this city and its people. Even the jerks are friendly!

did I mention I saw Sonic Youth and the Feelies in Battery Park today? It was a good show. Did I mention I haven't paid for a drink since I got here, and have been well blasted both nights? That's pretty good too. And, writerly folk (or readerly folk...) the books here are so damn cheap! Five bucks will buy you a decent read. 10 bucks tops. Given how close our dollar is to these guys, we may as well move here en masse and enjoy our culture straight from the hub.

The architecture here is so impressive. I feel more powerful and important just walking the streets. New York stinks, but I'm so enthralled that even a blast of wood smoke and rat meat from a hot dog vendor smells fine. Most impressive so far is the diversity of races, language, culture. Sydney is very fucking white in comparison. And strangely enough, I love all the uniforms. The police and even security are far better dressed. They have starched white shirts with red lapels and gold-embossed nametags with matching red and gold hats. A baby-faced Hispanic cop with straight, white teeth told us we couldn't walk down a particular road due to closures for July 4 and I was like, 'How can I be mad at him?' A strategic move by NYPD, methinks.

Tomorrow my plans are, well... not much. Maggie's off to work. I'll call Claude and see if he's not working, though knowing New York, he probably is. City of anxious overworkers - now that sounds like my kinda place. And it doesn't hurt that everyone is enthralled by the Australian accent. Truly, we are a lucky nation.

I strongly urge anyone who hasn't travelled to do so ASAP! It's not nearly as scary as you might think. I had one freaky moment on the way here - I forgot to take my laptop out of my bag when I came through customs at LA, and so I guess they thought I was trying to smuggle something. so they made me stand in front of the NAKED X-RAY MACHINE! It is like being strip searched without taking your clothes off. Who knows what kind of dangerous rays that thing emits. And who cares - they only use it on potential terrorists, right? There I was, shoeless, being naked screened, feeling about as vulnerable as one can in the face of stern customs officers, but I made it through. Shocked and transfixed, I sat on my chair and waited for the next flight (after I purchased the fated almonds). But hey, at least I made it into the country.

And I'll be leaving all too soon, for Montreal. I'm meeting Dane and Claire, Jo and Jason for a week, then coming back here and showing off all my street cool. Thank you, New York Moleskine. Thou hast saved my clueless arse many times thus far.