Wow! Bonnaroo is fast approaching and the folks I'm traversing the US Interstate system with to get there are completely excited. I'm more excited about my couple hours return to Brooklyn, but the adult obligations of my Bonnaroo pals are severely limiting my time at home. Alas, my car IS the red eye.
I get a hunch mother dearest is a bit bored or lonely from our phone conversations. She lingers on the horn and grasps at new topics to chit and chat about. I miss my cats. I often find myself playing with the cats at the homes I visit here in Montreal.
But one thing that remains constant between the two, both Brooklyn and Montreal: the miscreants. My first week here, waiting for the night bus that never came, I stood in a bus shelter in the pouring rain next to a homeless man smoking crack out of a pipe. I don't have that keen a sense of smell and couldn't tell you what it smelled like, but had I not seen the rock sizzling in his apparatus with my own eyes, I would have enjoyed my first ever contact crack high.
The peddle crank of my free bike broke yesterday, and today I start working at a bike cooperative. I know zilch about bottom brackets and how a crank set can make a bike better. I went to a meeting of the co-op yesterday and they were bandying bike mumbo jumbo about and cracking bike nerd jokes and all I could think to myself at the time was; "this IS why I came here."
Sunday was free museums day, apparently. I took it upon myself to visit a couple of the city's most obscure. The Darling Foundry and the DHC/ART Museum of Contemporary Art. Seriously, the day was packed with deleriously cute Francophone girls. Now if I could only find it within myself to be more... "forward" with these specimens...
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