Sick and tired... of being sick and tired

Wow, it sucks to be ill. This weekend, Montreal found me with physical illness. For one, I've been stricken with plantar fasciitis. Seriously, it hurts to walk and I find myself walking from the Plateau to Verdun every night (because the Metro closes). For those not in the know, that's a trek that often takes a hair under 2 hours and I don't lallygag while I traipse.

Then there is the fever that kept me in bed all day today. It was rough. The sore throat made things none too easy either. Crap! I also went out yesterday (with a sore throat but not too feverish) and played flag football. It was my first athletic contact since arriving in the land of the maple leaf. The first play had me on the floor. I fell and skinned my knee. It hurts. I think the skinned section of knee is infected. But it was also the most fun I've had all month. It's probably been two decades since I fell and skinned my knee. I hope it leaves a scar.

My hand is also swollen from awkwardly trying to intercept a wayward pass. And I get a text from someone who confesses she's at the end of her rope. I refused to give her the time of day.

Back to MY life...

We threw a bar-b-que here at chez Verdun. It was amazing. The roommate cooked up tandoori chicken (all dark meat), and the guests raved and raved. I cooked up burgers which went over well too. The qualifier, however, was the huge-ass Frito pie (a la the Levee) that I cooked up. It beat poutine a lot to none in our very unscientific poll done on the spot with lots of pressure on respondents to nod in agreement.

Oh man, the developments are happening faster than a Parkinsons patient can shake a stick at
'em. ALL the women at the bar-b-que were HOT. And they were so awesome. Except, they were so young and full of promise. And I'm old and crotchety.

Last night, sick, drunk and attempting to wait for the "night bus", I got to talking with another phantom bus awaiter. We spoke of the delightful women here. But in such a way as you'd probably expect from a Canadian. Very cordial, yet altogether engrossing. The word "eh" was bandied about. He once remarked about the "big juicy asses" of the city's Black girls. Long, boring story short, we came to the agreement that the francophone Asian girls were clearly hot in an exotic, anomaly sort of way.