06 April, 2004 - 11:02

I woke up this morning to the sound of Jess talking to the cats like children, telling them they could go outside. However, my waking-sleeping netherworld brain deduced that it was Jess and Christian's kids that were in the house and that I had just forgot that the kids got up so early in the morning. Of course, of course, it was just the kids, Adam.... the kids.

The gods threw an apple core into our world for the last few days and we've suffered through a veil of cloud blocking any sunshine and thin smattering of snow and ice. This is after two weeks of excited Montrealers saying, "Mais, bon, qu'il fais frais, hein!?". Oui, oui, il fais frais, mais on attend toujours le dernier gel, la derni�re temp�te de l'hiver et la premi�re temp�te du verglas du printemps. Because it's all the same thing, the nuances between seasons are part of it all.

It's strange, but all the posters in my bedroom have never stuck on the wall. They always fall down no matter what I stick them up with. I thought that I would get upset with being somewhere in such a temporal existence, but it's still invigorating. My bedroom walls thwarting my sense of home decoration is just another sign that... the wrong paint was used in the room that I'm sleeping in. But nonetheless, I'll take it as the impetus I need to unfreeze, admit that I've done what I need to do and move.

bouger

Even if it means just moving in the same spot for awhile.