Filed under: Elsewhere | Tags: Apartment buildings, Breakdancing, Nationalists, Spooks, Springtime, Squirrels
(backposted)
anyways.. it was sort of a dream within a dream, which was extra freaky, but i’m not totally sure. i must have spent the less aware part of my dream (which was either the dream within or my exciting night life as a character on spooks) chasing terrorists and i remember being disappointed when my supervisor let me know that my informer had been duping us all along and really he was a far-right european nationalist[1] (they were in my head because they’ve been blowing up red light cameras in france irl apparently). quel dommage.
i either woke up or got home and it was morning (hence the feeling it could be a dream within a dream) and i opened my notebook computer and there is an alert for an msn message. i click it. friend[2] has just gotten up from a nap during an all-nighter. then he posits how someone would look ~*iguana*~ themselves (or i misinterpreted this and he told me to go ~*iguana*~ myself, but i don’t think so) and wouldn’t it make a cool breakdancing move. but before i even have the chance to think about a response, i notice a squirrel on my desk starring at me ready to pounce.
and then i woke up. squirrels within arms length starring at me scare me like no other. happened for the first time while i was in residence and a squirrel had chewed up the screen and stuck its head in the window. actually freakier than the thought of working for an international intelligence agency or trying to imagine someone ~*iguana*~ themselves as a breakdance move.
[1] read: white supremacist, racist, anti-immigration, etc.
[2] alex: alexuser.
I think I had this dream in early April before the end of classes. I remember because I told this in our history seminar during a conversation about how nice spring is and that’s how I found out that Joyce lives in the building across the street on the same floor as me. It took until I’d finished exams to bump into her for the first despite having known her since first semester. But squirrels… *shivers* I went to Ottawa a couple weekends ago to see Melly and they have groundhogs in that city instead. Groundhogs are fantastic and non-aggressive. Squirrels from Montreal on the other hand (Toronto squirrels are okay) … oy, I have bad experiences (ie. rez). And because it was a dream within a dream, when I woke for real I wasn’t entirely sure there wasn’t a squirrel in my room and I will still figuring out escape routes for both myself and the squirrel because I live high up enough that it wasn’t practical to try to force it out a window. Yah…
Filed under: Attempts | Tags: Año uña, Asian babies, Fuel efficiency, McGill University, Montreal, Montreal Museums Day
Spanish-speaking kids are rolling down the hill. The sound effect they make is “roll! roll! roll!” The smallest one in a red turtleneck doesn’t really know how to roll and has to push himself through every turn. “I’m alive!” Another small one sitting with another family tries to imitate them but it probably isn’t as fun alone. A young francophone family has sat down to my right and the boys’ path is obstructed. Today, Sunday, is free museum day and the sun is out and many families are around. Some guys below strum and drum against a single guitar. It is late afternoon and the shadow cast by the Redpath Museum shifts and soon I will be entirely consumed. “Elle consomme moins que votre blonde,” reads the car ad (for a BMW mini) at the Roddick Gates. A helicopter chop-chop-chops above. The tent is set up for Convocation. The shadow has now consumed me and only the tip of my left shoe sees the sun. The francophone family beside me actually speaks Spanish. I should move back into the sun. I should read about the Soeul punk scene. Sometimes more than I wish I spoke French, I wish I spoke Spanish. I could be like a character called Molly. The skinny girls get up and check their bums for grass stains. The guys put away their guitar. I am going to move back into the sun, until the shadow consumes me once more. The last song on the album has ended. A young dad tries to help his pudgy little Asian baby stand up to pose for a photo. It’s hard kid, I know. (on lined paper from a couple hours ago, sitting on Lower Field, Sunday afternoon)
[02:08] <jessia> this was chill
[02:08] <jessia> i like chill nights
[02:09] <moony> 
[02:09] <moony> How would you define ‘chill’?
[02:10] <jessia> chill tonight was… sitting around talking and catching up, occasionally make fun of each other, etc.
I spent a few hours at Sibylle’s place and hung out with some friends I’ve gotten to see often lately and then some friends I don’t see often enough. It was nice. It’s funny how I never walk up there because I think it’s far and then I go and buy bus/metro tickets so that I can visit them more easily, and then I’m happy to walk alone (at dusk around 9pm, it was pretty, and around 2am, it was vibrant). I enjoyed this and aim to do so more often. Unfortunately the month is winding down too fast and I’m going home soon. It’s the first time I really feel reluctant to leave, I think. Sunday and Monday will likely be devoted to essay-writing. Tuesday night I’ll study for Wednesday’s test. Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday – leaving. Good night.
Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning
And the first thing that I heard
Was a song outside my window
And the traffic wrote the words
It came ringing up like Christmas bells
And rapping up like pipes and drums
Oh, won’t you stay
We’ll put on the day
And we’ll wear it ’till the night comes
Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning
And the first thing that I saw
Was the sun through yellow curtains
And a rainbow on the wall
Blue, red, green and gold to welcome you
Crimson crystal beads to beckon
Oh, won’t you stay
We’ll put on the day
There’s a sun show every second
Now the curtain opens on a portrait of today
And the streets are paved with passersby
And pigeons fly
And papers lie
Waiting to blow away
Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning
And the first thing that I knew
There was milk and toast and honey
And a bowl of oranges, too
And the sun poured in like butterscotch
And stuck to all my senses
Oh, won’t you stay
We’ll put on the day
And we’ll talk in present tenses
When the curtain closes
And the rainbow runs away
I will bring you incense
Owls by night
By candlelight
By jewel-light
If only you will stay
Pretty baby, won’t you
Wake up, it’s a Chelsea morning
Filed under: Elsewhere, Fangirl, Motion picture, Music | Tags: Alex Beaupain, Alexandre Beaupain, Balconies, Christophe Honoré, City, Dusk, Les chansons d'amour, Light polution
Quel est mieux? rester debout seule sur le balconnet avec les bras étendus écoutant au son de la ville ou rester debout avec les bras étendus avec les bras d’un amant enroulés autour des tiens?
La plupart du temps je ne me sens pas seule, mais parfois…
Les chansons d’amour was not what I had expected and I’m not sure whether it exceeded or failed to meet my expectations, but it was much more somber than I had surmised from the trailer. I stopped the film partway to make heat some milk because it felt appropriate at the time (not long after Les yeux aux ciel)*. I put the milk and some chocolate in a pot on the stove and went to the balcony to stand in the cold (15.3°C) with my arms outstretched to take in the sighs of the city at dusk. Maybe it was actually past dusk and the sky is only like that because of the light pollution, je sais pas. The draught does its thing and the motors and the sirens sound and you wonder things, like whether one could jump twelve stories and land on one’s feet if one willed it enough, for example. I’m not talking about jumping to one’s death (none of that from me, don’t worry) but rather being airborne just for a little bit. Maybe that’s the outstretched arms and the poorly conjugated French and noticing the very particular mix of sometimes-loneliness and contemplation of the city’s sighs at night fall that comes from watching films by Christophe Honoré.
Les yeux au ciel, les nuages blancs dans le bleu parfait, nul trace de dieu au ciel, ces nuages lents dans le bleu defait… (Alex Beaupain)
*I learned this summer from my China roomie that in French, one can both regarde and écoute à un film.. pretty cool.
