Swing Station

Last night was Swing Station which was totally AWESOME. 

I have tried four different ways to sum it up and it seems I cannot in any kind of cohesive and grammatical sentence. Therefore: bullet points! The order of the ideas has no relation to the importance of the idea in relation to the other ideas.

• dance
• video
• clown/percussionist
• live band
• tap/balboa/lindy/charleston/air steps
• train station
• train
• club
• couple
• gang
• children
• underwater
• mime
• drum solo with smoke
• THOMAS BLACHARZ

I had a ridiculous grin on my face for the rest of the evening, it was so charming and the musicality was fantastic. The choreography and the music are specific to the show but I couldn't work out if the music was written to the movements or the movements were choreographed to the music. There was a really interesting vignette in which three dancers each represented (or were represented by?) a different instrument (piano, double bass, violin). The interplay and choreography was very impressive. 

I so badly need to dance. Unfortunately the social dance I was looking forward to on Wednesday will not happen until next Wednesday due to the venue not confirming until a couple of hours until the social was supposed to take place (seriously, wtf?).

However, it turns out these dances will be every other Wednesday and the university wants a social dance once a month as well. No classes at the moment but there will be dancing!

As for the job front, I've handed out a number of CVs and taken the initial test for one but not heard anything so far. There seem to plenty of offers for shop assistants but having done that (when I was 16) I'm really looking for a post-uni job. Surely someone in this town must want someone who can speak English and not just people with a degree in administration (?!?)

A is for Abby, B is for Barbeque, C is for Canons

Saturday may just have been my best day in Quebec so far. It had the unlikely start of waking up alone. Completely alone. Denis was on the way back from Montreal and housemate Fred went somewhere Friday afternoon, taking Lucky the dog with him, and hadn't returned. Good job this is Quebec otherwise I might have been afraid of intruders.

The quiet in the flat meant that I slept in until 10a.m. and could eat my breakfast in bed (being careful about crumbs, of course). Then I had an epic skyping session with Abby which I really needed. I'm definitely missing my best friends; apart from Denis, there isn't anyone in this town who really knows me and can make me laugh with inside jokes. I miss having inside jokes, at the moment I'm the person who looks blank while everyone else is falling about - and not just because they're speaking French!

Denis got back earlier than expected and the afternoon continued the relaxed theme of the morning. And then. And then he took me out for a meal (it should be noted that this was the first time we've eaten in a restaurant together, without other friends around, because we wanted to and not because we were on the road and needed some food, you know, like a real date) and to a concert of l'Orchestre symphonique de l'Estuaire with the Royal 22e Régiment. 

It was really bloody good, much much better than I had anticipated. The first "set" was the orchestra playing such classics as the Radetzky March by Strauss and March no. 1 of the Pomp and Circumstance Marches by Elgar (Denis was teasing me about getting overly patriotic during the latter). After the intermission the 22e played less military-inspired pieces and more jazzy stuff with New York as the theme, for some reason. Which definitely made for a nice contrast and an older chap got the audience singing at the end (I didn't know the words).

But really the finale was the truly impressive part where both bands joined together (logistics of setting up the stage disguised by five brass players in Beatles wigs playing With a Little Help from my Friends) to play Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. Some very large drums took the place of the canons but half the audience jumped all the same. 

Afterwards we mingled with musicians and I was introduced to the conductor. Naturally he already knew Denis, for everyone does.

Then we headed to a pool hall to catch up with some people I had met before! Not only that but I met them for the first time about 18 months ago and despite not having met them that many times they clearly count as old friends here. I didn't play any pool, I was considering it but then Denis was far too good and I'd rather be thought a poor player than give it a go and remove all doubt. 

We rounded off the night with a trip to La Cantine de a Gare for a spot of poutine. Man it was good. I wasn't even hungry and I ate most of it (I was supposed to be sharing with Denis).

Sunday evening we met up with the same group for a barbeque. As you do. In October. When you don't have a garden (the barbeque was on the balcony). Then we watched Scott Pilgrim vs. The World and I found geeky lindy hop routines to show Denis. Yup, we're all super cool people.

Today I have finally got myself a local phone number and a phone that works, if only so I can apply for jobs - online application forms refuse to accept that someone doesn't have a phone number; "you must spend money in order to possibly be considered for the honour of earning money," is what they seem to say.

And now I'm watching the Montreal Canadiens not winning, although for the moment they're also not losing which is a vast improvement on recent form. According to a quick google search this is the worst start to the season since 1938, 1941 or 1995. Apparently there are different ways to define the crappiness of their form.

In other news, soft cheese with vanilla-ness is not only not rank but really rather yummy but I reserve the right to dismiss cheese with jam or cheese with nutella without trying it.

To look forward to this week: social dance Wednesday night (yay yay yay yay yay yay yay yay yay) and Swing Station on Thursday. J'ai vraiment trop hâte.

Culture Shock

So we're on weekly updates at the moment. Little and often may be more motivating, I'll try to keep that in mind.

Denis is on his way to Montreal to fetch the pimp car. We've been tooling about in a pickup for the past couple of weeks - made me feel like a local.

Writing is a bit slow tonight as I'm watching the Hunter S. Thompson documentary and typing during the commercial breaks. However, the Baby Bullet advert, which features in every break, is very distracting, not only due to the name but for some reason it seems to be twice the volume of the other adverts and three times the volume of the programme I actually want to watch.

Finally the chest of drawers has been repaired and this afternoon, after living out of suitcases for almost two weeks, I finished unpacking and maybe now I'll feel like I'm not just visiting. Step 2 in feeling like I belong: find a job.

I've been working on my CV and have a couple of leads but have also had a couple of set backs. More news when there is some.

Last Saturday night we were invited to Marc-Andre and Steph's for an exceedingly enjoyable evening of fabulous food and fine wines, finished off with a lesson in poker. Clearly I had good teachers as I won my first game but you know what they say: quit while you're ahead.

Earlier that day I'd got my lumberjack (jane?) on and helped stack a whole lotta wood. We ended up with three stacks, ten foot high, six foot wide and as deep as the logs were long. All I was missing was the checked shirt.

Then on Sunday, continuing with the body building theme, we helped a friend of Denis' move into her first solo apartment. If ice hockey is the religion of the locals, helping people move house is their hobby.

Wednesday was the next eventful day in that we went to see Alexandre Desilets. I'd not heard of him and, due to a problem with the internet, I'd not been able to check him out beforehand. The worry set in when one of our group described the music as being like Coldplay. The worry turned to horror when the support act appeared and proceeded to present forty-five minutes of keyboard noises; think Ross' sound but not a joke. At least, I assume it wasn't some sort of performance art testing the audience's feelings of obligation to applaud any sort of performance.  Those boys need to go back to their parents' basement and, preferably, not leave. Ever. Or possibly they were there to lower our musical standards. 

The main act were fine. The musicians were tight but I wasn't fond of the vocals and it wasn't particularly to my taste. My main barrier to enjoying the show was the set up - an audience of under 100 people sat at small tables when we should have been standing up and jumping about.

I guess having lived here before I thought I knew how it would be this time but I'm definitely feeling the culture shock. What place has hard floors in every room of the house and then carpet on the open porch?


These days I'm mostly taking walks and doodling. Five minute's walk from the flat I get to hang out and check out these views:

Flames 4 - 1 Canadiens

My days are still pretty empty but the evenings have been considerably more interesting of late.

I'm going to try and find a sketch book this afternoon as I've got some inspiration brewing and I feel I've spent too long at my computer. Much as I love this thing I am going a little bit nuts. I didn't bring any of my books or arty stuff with me so my principle leisure activities consist of reading random articles about fashion/celebrities/TV/society. That, and keeping up to date with the lives of the inhabitants of TOWIE and Made in Chelsea... it ain't good.

Don't get me wrong, I'm in the right place and I will find a job but at the moment I don't have anything to focus on whilst Denis is at work and I don't have the money or means to go out and meet people - mind you if these imaginary people I'm meeting are as free as I am, either they're exceedingly wealthy people of leisure or are similarly underemployed. Denis is so far putting up with me and my frustrations wonderfully and we're going to go through my CV (I got it done, to some extent) this weekend. I suppose I feel a little bit lost right now but I know he's here to keep me on the right track [/soppy].

So, thank goodness it is almost the weekend and I will have things to do and people to see! 

Wednesday evening started with a 5 à 7 - a post-workday gathering with drinks and nibbles for socialising and networking - during which several people were made aware of a) my search for employment and b) my general awesomeness in that I speak pretty perfect English as well as some French. These people seemed to think there might be something for me but we'll see if anything comes out of it. I can't say I'm especially expecting it to.

After that we went out for a meal to celebrate someone's birthday. It was a nice restaurant with a wholly un-vegetarian theme but thankfully I can now eat meat without spending the rest of the day in pain - hurrah! So I then met many more people and generally remembered their names (even though we were a group of twelve) far better than those I'd come across at the 5 à 7. Which was pretty good as I was well on my way to tipsy by that point.

All this eating and drinking then sitting around is going to make me fat and brain-dead. I would go walking but I did something to my foot about a week before I left England and it still bloody hurts. I'm complaining far too much today. It isn't woe here at all, it is just a bit slow but with very friendly and welcoming people.

Last night was also good fun but again with the drinking! It was the first inter-Canada hockey game of the season and frankly we were trounced. It was shameful. But the snacks were good. We'd gone to a friend of Denis' house and I ended up being a solo female (I was abandoned by a girl I'd met only the night before!) and therefore had to try and ignore the burping and inappropriate comments (thankfully not directed at me). It was fun to begin with but then the boys started playing poker and not knowing the rules of the game I couldn't follow the action. However, there are plans in the pipeline for teaching me the game and soon I shall be a gambling addict and bleed Denis dry. Or become really rich, a ten dollar play at a time.

I believe we're going to the cinema tonight, to see some action film with fast cars, big guns and women wearing not a whole lot. At least, that's how the idea was sold to me.

ETA: Just posted a link to here on facebook and incidentally found out that one of my most favourite musicians Mark Berube (seriously, check him out) played Rimouski two days ago. WHHYYYY??? 

Baseball cap storage facilities

So. All arrived, safe and sound after about 24 hours of travel. Still recovering from that/a touch of the old jetlag.

Monday was a bank holiday as Sunday was Thanksgiving in Canada. It was definitely what I needed, to get out and see people - it made me forget I was tired and it made me feel popular in a town where I know fewer than ten people. Denis' friends are very welcoming and lovely but I do want to find my own friends. Something that could be challenging because, as far as I can tell, Denis knows everyone in Quebec and most people in Ontario and New Brunswick.

Yesterday I finally met Fred and Lucky - our housemate and his dog. I met Lucky first and was beginning to suspect that Fred was some kind of benevolent ghost that brings people dogs but he is in fact a French guy who is doing a Masters in something about turbines and enjoys the Big Bang Theory. And on the basis of the music he has on at the moment I think we'll get along just fine.

I also unpacked as much stuff as would fit in the limited storage facilities (more to be sorted at the weekend, along with wood bundling and helping someone move house) - I don't think I've shared a wardrobe since my sister and I slept in the same room. Without meaning to be overly soppy, it is pretty nice to see the clothes hanging up (/out) together.

Had a little solo explore of the local facilities and managed to become completely baffled by two different mobile phone sales people. I don't know what I'm going to do about my phone. I could get something awesome/pretty if I was on a three-year contract but I just don't know if I'm going to be here that long. If all goes to plan I will be but what's to say that in a year I won't decide to run off somewhere else? I'm basing this on past form rather than intentions. Mind you, do I really want to stay in a town where shops, next to hanging pocket shoe storage thingys, sell hanging pocket storage things for up to 20 baseball caps?? Welcome to North America.

Today Denis has set me the task of writing an up to date CV in French. I'm currently avoiding this. I don't know what job I'm aiming for and therefore what the focus should be. I also don't know what the conventions are here. I barely know the conventions at home - all but my very first job I managed to get without needing a CV. I definitely need to find a job as I am currently some non-person that knows almost no one, has no money and very little to be getting on with. I promise I'll have a good go at it this afternoon, really.

Haven't had any poutine yet but the cravings are creeping up on me. Especially as I missed out at Easter. Mmmmmmmm....