"best-looking boys are taken, best-looking girls are staying inside"
This morning I trudged over to the McGill gate in the most wretched weather ever to meet up with Ginette, her sister Nandine, and their Chinese friends visiting from Ottawa. The experience initially confirmed my suspicion towards hanging out in a big group, as we shuttled from place to place in the rain in search for brunch options just so that we could meet up with their friends' friend's friends.
Eventually I found myself in a place on Crescent, which is generally a bad sign. However it turned out to be a lovely experience. The place was a gigantic French bistro with dark wood pannels on the wall, huge chandellier in the ceiling, maitre d's in taxedo vests and menu written in cursive. The omelltes are $9.5 including fresh orange juice, fresh fruits (which means WHOLE apples, WHOLE bananas, strawberries, big pieces of melons), and pastries (chocolate croissants!!). The Chinese kids are obviously of affluent origins in China(cabbed to the casino there back and forth) but still sounding grounded and intellectually curious. A year ago I probably would've found the conversations with them (including Ginette) barren because no one knows anything about the New Yorker nor the Clash. However, now I'm just content with right amounts of social interactions with decent, inquisive people who are open about things.
After I came home, I made tea and put on Belle and Sebastian. My coughing has worsened and I can't seem to talk for over 3 minutes without breaking into a coughing fist. Not good for 10 days before France. Anyway I listened to Bell and Sebastian and thought about how the older I get, the harder it seems to be for me to accept new bands. Yesterday I listened (and sang aloud!) to the whole repertoie (?) of the Decemberists, and wondered to myself that if it's just easier to listen to music like this at all times, instead of sifting through new bands in the often futile hope of finding something that makes me feel remotely similar. Now I'm feeling the same about belle and sebastian.
Eventually I found myself in a place on Crescent, which is generally a bad sign. However it turned out to be a lovely experience. The place was a gigantic French bistro with dark wood pannels on the wall, huge chandellier in the ceiling, maitre d's in taxedo vests and menu written in cursive. The omelltes are $9.5 including fresh orange juice, fresh fruits (which means WHOLE apples, WHOLE bananas, strawberries, big pieces of melons), and pastries (chocolate croissants!!). The Chinese kids are obviously of affluent origins in China(cabbed to the casino there back and forth) but still sounding grounded and intellectually curious. A year ago I probably would've found the conversations with them (including Ginette) barren because no one knows anything about the New Yorker nor the Clash. However, now I'm just content with right amounts of social interactions with decent, inquisive people who are open about things.
After I came home, I made tea and put on Belle and Sebastian. My coughing has worsened and I can't seem to talk for over 3 minutes without breaking into a coughing fist. Not good for 10 days before France. Anyway I listened to Bell and Sebastian and thought about how the older I get, the harder it seems to be for me to accept new bands. Yesterday I listened (and sang aloud!) to the whole repertoie (?) of the Decemberists, and wondered to myself that if it's just easier to listen to music like this at all times, instead of sifting through new bands in the often futile hope of finding something that makes me feel remotely similar. Now I'm feeling the same about belle and sebastian.