Welcome to Orillia; home of writers, painters and the 21161.
we got in somewhere around 12:30am, Thursday morning, after bus failures, train switching, and another Katimavik group missing their flight, which stalled our bus pick up from Toronto a full five hours, we made it. Our house is a bungalow, tiny little thing. All five guys are packed in one room where, once again, I have the only single bed, tucked in the corner of the room behind the dresser. We've been here four days, and already the place smells like ball-sweat and farts.
I can't speak for anyone else, but my job(s) rock. I work for the Canadian Authors Association, which is exactly what it sounds like, and the Orillia District Arts Council, also exactly what it sounds like. On the subject of my professional relationships with my superiors, there has been more beer than work hours since I showed up. My bosses are, quite simply, the shit. I've ran into them three nights in a row at the Brownstone, and it's always a good time.
The Brownstone is a cafe/bar that opens up at 4pm and closes after the usual last call. Katimavik gets free coffee anytime they come in, and it's served up by this very cute red head named Autumn, who has been nothing but awesome to myself and the rest of the 21161. WHEELS.
My diet has improved slightly being out of French Canada. The Pountine and Cigarettes regiment I was on is done, the beer, not so much. Having a YMCA a 5 minute walk from the house is phenomenal. Pete, Alex and I will be in heavy competition to get in shape by Christmas, for shallow masculine reasons that few people would appreciate and even more would laugh at. They have an electronic point-tracking system so that your total weight lifted, miles ran and reps performed. All these things attribute to a points system that we'll be using against each other until the end, to a punishment yet to be decided.
Our new Project Leader, Will is... cool? I think? The dude's indifferent. He wants to stay out of our way and make sure we're running the show because, after all, Katimavik is our program. He said he's only going to be noticeable when respect issues are brought to light or someone isn't contributing enough to the group. It would suffice to say, that may happen sooner than later. But regardless, he's got some impressive experience to draw upon. He spent 7 months in Nepal with a Buddhist community. The only meat he eats is the stuff he hunts or fishes for himself. He spent a time in Lilloet, BC, as a fisherman for a Native reserve. HE SLEEPS IN A HAMMOCK. Cool cat, that Will.
That's it, that's all. I'll write about less boring shit sometime soon, when something happens, maybe.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
So Long, Lévis...
How to sum up a quarter of a year in a blog post...
Well, you really can't, but my best attempt is, Québec was probably the most fun I've had since I got out of high school.
I'm standing behind the counter of the Café La Mosaïque, clicking away at my keyboard, listening to Beirut. The place is totally dead today, so Catherine and Jerome took me out for lunch at some posh spot called Délice. Steak still wasn't as good as L'Intimiste, but it wasn't bad.
Last night we Skype'd the Orillia group, the 31161. They look like what Katimavik group should look like, all smiling and hilarious, not shit-heads like my group. :) As it happens, because of Katimavik's long standing relationship with the YMCA, we all get passes when we get to Orillia. I can finally reverse the damage done by cheap beer, cigarettes and poutine, and maybe get a little muscle added on as well, but knowing my skinny ass, probably not.
And, as is tradition with the 21161 apparently, we're losing another group member. Lauren has decided to quit the group so she can be with her two friends back in Nova Scotia during their pregnancy (and not because she maxed out her new credit card in a few days). Once again, things are a little dark in our Katimahouse, but maybe Ontario will help brighten things up.
With this weekend comes a final volunteer placement, a big game of Manhunt/Kick the Can (rose valley knows what I'm talking about) with Candra's group, packing and a power clean. They really make you feel it in Katimavik, the moving-on that is. It's kind of sad leaving my 200 year-old, creaky, haunted house. Seems like just yesterday our bus woke the neighbors up as it dropped us all off at 3am. Now we're going to go do the same thing in Ontario.
Before you know it, I'll have landed in Kelowna (probably in a foot of slushiness, because Valley winters suck), unpacking my stuff and not knowing what the shit to do with myself. Ah well, deal with Ontario first.
This coming Tuesday, at 4am, I'll be on a bus. at 7am, I'll be saying good-bye to one of the coolest girls in my life (for a while), and right after that, I'll be on a train for 16 god-damn hours. I'm about to do a bloody huge amount of pirating and poetry writing.
My only question left, is ''Why is it so damn hard to find good Montana paint in Québec?!"
Well, you really can't, but my best attempt is, Québec was probably the most fun I've had since I got out of high school.
I'm standing behind the counter of the Café La Mosaïque, clicking away at my keyboard, listening to Beirut. The place is totally dead today, so Catherine and Jerome took me out for lunch at some posh spot called Délice. Steak still wasn't as good as L'Intimiste, but it wasn't bad.
Last night we Skype'd the Orillia group, the 31161. They look like what Katimavik group should look like, all smiling and hilarious, not shit-heads like my group. :) As it happens, because of Katimavik's long standing relationship with the YMCA, we all get passes when we get to Orillia. I can finally reverse the damage done by cheap beer, cigarettes and poutine, and maybe get a little muscle added on as well, but knowing my skinny ass, probably not.
And, as is tradition with the 21161 apparently, we're losing another group member. Lauren has decided to quit the group so she can be with her two friends back in Nova Scotia during their pregnancy (and not because she maxed out her new credit card in a few days). Once again, things are a little dark in our Katimahouse, but maybe Ontario will help brighten things up.
With this weekend comes a final volunteer placement, a big game of Manhunt/Kick the Can (rose valley knows what I'm talking about) with Candra's group, packing and a power clean. They really make you feel it in Katimavik, the moving-on that is. It's kind of sad leaving my 200 year-old, creaky, haunted house. Seems like just yesterday our bus woke the neighbors up as it dropped us all off at 3am. Now we're going to go do the same thing in Ontario.
Before you know it, I'll have landed in Kelowna (probably in a foot of slushiness, because Valley winters suck), unpacking my stuff and not knowing what the shit to do with myself. Ah well, deal with Ontario first.
This coming Tuesday, at 4am, I'll be on a bus. at 7am, I'll be saying good-bye to one of the coolest girls in my life (for a while), and right after that, I'll be on a train for 16 god-damn hours. I'm about to do a bloody huge amount of pirating and poetry writing.
My only question left, is ''Why is it so damn hard to find good Montana paint in Québec?!"
sshhhhffuuuuuuuuu------
Five hours sleep is not adequate after a night in Montreal. But once you get past a certain point in your day, you just kinda can't sleep anyways.
Candra and I got in to Montreal station at 9pm on friday night. Three hours of wandering, metro and bus riding, and spam-calling Petey, we made it to St. Therese, about 20 minutes outside the city. We then proceeded to wreck ourselves down at the Monte Cristo. This place is Alex's favourite bar, and has been for years. You can tell, because everyone is rocking the same style, punkish-hippyish-stonerish-quebecois. So much, in fact, that we lost Peter.
After 3 hours of frantic phone calls, worried text messages and a lot of interrogating, we see a small dude with wispy hair walking up the street.
"Oh, you were calling me? I thought I was following Alex for 20 minutes." Pete says.
"No man, it's 3am, you've been gone for two and a half hours." We say.
As we're getting ready to leave, shouting and shoving starts up across the street. Next thing you know, a mob of every drunk 20-something in St Therese is chanting "ALLEEEEZ! ALLEEEZ!" Dumb blonde ho-bags who would normally have no chance at fingering a cop and getting away with it are screaming and flipping off these six police officers and acting like they're actually badass. Every Ed Hardy-wearing asshole is still chanting and fist pumping and cheering in victory as the officers get back in their cars and drive away.
"That was fucking intense. I thought they were gonna throw rocks at them or something." I say.
"Nah man, this happens... probably once or twice a month on this street." Alex says.
____
Melanie, Alex's friend, chauffered us around the area for most of our stay. Saturday was a lot of hanging out, LARPing, napping, and drinking beer and wine with Alex's parents. Michel Vaillancourt is one of the coolest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. He's either laughing, cooking, drinking, or smoking, sometimes all at once. Breakfast consisted of toast, cereal, and fine quebecois pastries. Eclairs out the wazoo.
Pete, Candra and myself found a large stash of LARPing weapons in Alex's closet. All hell broke loose. Some were hit in the nuts, others in the face, and many limbs were lost, metaphorically. I also managed to scarf down a very large amount of poutine, resulting in a fantastic siesta.
Saturday Night was a Metal/Ska/Reggae Luau, complete with pork on spits, baked potatos in tin foil, caesar salad, and lots and lots of beer. We got very, very messy this night. We set up a big tent in the field outside the party, along with lots of other drunk Quebeckers, and were eaten alive by mosquitos, all damn night long.
Sunday.
Sunday morning was a day of rest.
Sunday was a drive out to Montreal.
Sunday was a chance for us to all rage in a big city and retreat to urban sanctuaries when we were done. Mine, however, was not so sanctified. I ended up cancelling the room because it would have set me back 200 bucks. word of advice, only use Priceline when get hotel rooms. That's what Stephanie and Aurora did, and it worked out in everyone's favor.
Petey's two partners in crime came to visit the little guy and drink with us.
I don't remember anything beyond that.
But that was three weeks ago. Let me bring you up to speed...
Five hours sleep is not adequate after a night in Montreal. But once you get past a certain point in your day, you just kinda can't sleep anyways.
Candra and I got in to Montreal station at 9pm on friday night. Three hours of wandering, metro and bus riding, and spam-calling Petey, we made it to St. Therese, about 20 minutes outside the city. We then proceeded to wreck ourselves down at the Monte Cristo. This place is Alex's favourite bar, and has been for years. You can tell, because everyone is rocking the same style, punkish-hippyish-stonerish-quebecois. So much, in fact, that we lost Peter.
After 3 hours of frantic phone calls, worried text messages and a lot of interrogating, we see a small dude with wispy hair walking up the street.
"Oh, you were calling me? I thought I was following Alex for 20 minutes." Pete says.
"No man, it's 3am, you've been gone for two and a half hours." We say.
As we're getting ready to leave, shouting and shoving starts up across the street. Next thing you know, a mob of every drunk 20-something in St Therese is chanting "ALLEEEEZ! ALLEEEZ!" Dumb blonde ho-bags who would normally have no chance at fingering a cop and getting away with it are screaming and flipping off these six police officers and acting like they're actually badass. Every Ed Hardy-wearing asshole is still chanting and fist pumping and cheering in victory as the officers get back in their cars and drive away.
"That was fucking intense. I thought they were gonna throw rocks at them or something." I say.
"Nah man, this happens... probably once or twice a month on this street." Alex says.
____
Melanie, Alex's friend, chauffered us around the area for most of our stay. Saturday was a lot of hanging out, LARPing, napping, and drinking beer and wine with Alex's parents. Michel Vaillancourt is one of the coolest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. He's either laughing, cooking, drinking, or smoking, sometimes all at once. Breakfast consisted of toast, cereal, and fine quebecois pastries. Eclairs out the wazoo.
Pete, Candra and myself found a large stash of LARPing weapons in Alex's closet. All hell broke loose. Some were hit in the nuts, others in the face, and many limbs were lost, metaphorically. I also managed to scarf down a very large amount of poutine, resulting in a fantastic siesta.
Saturday Night was a Metal/Ska/Reggae Luau, complete with pork on spits, baked potatos in tin foil, caesar salad, and lots and lots of beer. We got very, very messy this night. We set up a big tent in the field outside the party, along with lots of other drunk Quebeckers, and were eaten alive by mosquitos, all damn night long.
Sunday.
Sunday morning was a day of rest.
Sunday was a drive out to Montreal.
Sunday was a chance for us to all rage in a big city and retreat to urban sanctuaries when we were done. Mine, however, was not so sanctified. I ended up cancelling the room because it would have set me back 200 bucks. word of advice, only use Priceline when get hotel rooms. That's what Stephanie and Aurora did, and it worked out in everyone's favor.
Petey's two partners in crime came to visit the little guy and drink with us.
I don't remember anything beyond that.
But that was three weeks ago. Let me bring you up to speed...
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Katimabonding
I think after tonight, the whole group might just be friends.
It seems the impossible rift that we thought existed between us disappeared with a nice, long, agreeable discussion about everyone in the group. Tonight we took time to discuss who bothers us, how they bother us, and how we can improve...
And we were successful.
You could feel the energy of the group going up and up and up, to this crescendo where everyone locked in and finally connected.
Now... I guess the real Katimavik experience can begin.
It seems the impossible rift that we thought existed between us disappeared with a nice, long, agreeable discussion about everyone in the group. Tonight we took time to discuss who bothers us, how they bother us, and how we can improve...
And we were successful.
You could feel the energy of the group going up and up and up, to this crescendo where everyone locked in and finally connected.
Now... I guess the real Katimavik experience can begin.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
We're Katima-back!
I have 70 mosquito bites on various parts of my body, my back hurts, and my liver is clean. Matty boy is back from the woods, but not back in his own head yet. It's been a f***in' coons age since I've written anything.
For the most part, we've spent the last week splitting and stacking firewood. The owners of Campe de L'Arche have a massive wood burning furnace, that not only draws on fire to heat the place, but also burns up the smoke into additional energy and provides a clean fuel source.
On some days, the girls would clean or help cook meals. Alex and I got to play with a giant saw/milling machine. We also had to help the owners landscape their front yard, so got to pull some huge rocks out of the river, finding some silver in the process :)
One day we decided to see how far it would be to the next town to grab a beer at the bar. When we should have went right, we went straight, and ended up walking for 6 hours around the farmlands of St Elzere. Beautiful as it was, I have never sincerely wished to never walk during thunderstorms again. We left at 9 in the morning, and got home around 5, with poutine breaks in between.
One of the last nights I was there, I cut my foot open in a game of Battle Boats. Battle Boats is a game where you two teams of two attack each other in canoes and try to sink the other teams boat. During my kamikaze attacks, I caught my foot on a screw. Ow.
Now that we're back in the house, it seems all the bonding has been for naught. We're back to our bickering, back to cliques, and still have no Project Leader. Sarah came and went, as she lives in Rimouski, four hours away. Alice was a great PL for the week she was here, but has to resume teaching in late August, so she left. Now we're alone in this house, and I fear for the most part that we'll kill each other, or at least some of each other.
I feel like this blog post should be more fulfilling, but I'm gonna go get a cigar.
For the most part, we've spent the last week splitting and stacking firewood. The owners of Campe de L'Arche have a massive wood burning furnace, that not only draws on fire to heat the place, but also burns up the smoke into additional energy and provides a clean fuel source.
On some days, the girls would clean or help cook meals. Alex and I got to play with a giant saw/milling machine. We also had to help the owners landscape their front yard, so got to pull some huge rocks out of the river, finding some silver in the process :)
One day we decided to see how far it would be to the next town to grab a beer at the bar. When we should have went right, we went straight, and ended up walking for 6 hours around the farmlands of St Elzere. Beautiful as it was, I have never sincerely wished to never walk during thunderstorms again. We left at 9 in the morning, and got home around 5, with poutine breaks in between.
One of the last nights I was there, I cut my foot open in a game of Battle Boats. Battle Boats is a game where you two teams of two attack each other in canoes and try to sink the other teams boat. During my kamikaze attacks, I caught my foot on a screw. Ow.
Now that we're back in the house, it seems all the bonding has been for naught. We're back to our bickering, back to cliques, and still have no Project Leader. Sarah came and went, as she lives in Rimouski, four hours away. Alice was a great PL for the week she was here, but has to resume teaching in late August, so she left. Now we're alone in this house, and I fear for the most part that we'll kill each other, or at least some of each other.
I feel like this blog post should be more fulfilling, but I'm gonna go get a cigar.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Reshuffling the 21161
What a fucking week.
My Project Leader, Neil, was fired for what the Katimofficials described as incompetence. Basically, he couldn't keep up with the bureaucratic aspect of his job and the paper work bent him over and... yeah. Regardless, it's a load of crap. He was potentially the nicest guy I ever met, and everyone in the house can back me up on that one. He was kicked out before I even got home from work, which had me feeling like I didn't even get to say good-bye...
But then we found him at the Corsaire later that night, and, as you can tell by my facebook profile, we got some hilarious DBZ themed pictures. Did I mention the new volunteers were with us? Probably should have.
Skip back to earlier in the day.
I came home depressed because I assumed Neil was never going to be seen again. I opened the door and met Damon's equivalent, Stephan. If you don't remember me talking about Damon getting kicked out, yeah, he did. And another metal head took his place, this one being bilingual. He's a cool dude, and adjusting to our rag-tag, bitchy group fairly quickly.
Then there's Rosalie. Rosalie is a super quiet french girl with more sketches than words. "Her drawing r lik rly-rly gud gaiz." Seriously, I look forward to drafting a tattoo with that chick, because I know it's going to come out rly-rly gud.
Friday and Saturday night we volunteered at Festivent, an extension of Celebration Levis, and managed not to tear each others throats out as a result. It was actually a really cool festival. There were hot air balloons everywhere, one as the Planters Peanuts mascot, one was Darth Vaders helmet, one was a tourist penguin with a hawaiin shirt. There was a mini carnival set up with rides and donuts and llamas. But the only thing that you give a shit about is Bran Van 3000 and Wyclef Jean.
Both the shows were AMAZING. Yes, Bran Van played Drinking in LA, and yes it was sweet.
Yes, Wyclef is now dreadless (you don' gatta be dread to be rastaa), yes his show was sweet, and yes, he went Jimi Hendrix on everyone's ass. He played a solo on his knees, behind his head, and then with his teeth. It was so fucking cool. I have footage and pictures but my Macbook is too shitty to take uploads seriously. Check Facebook later and you can see some of the blurry shitt shots I took.
I miss everyone back home a ton, especially my dog.
My Project Leader, Neil, was fired for what the Katimofficials described as incompetence. Basically, he couldn't keep up with the bureaucratic aspect of his job and the paper work bent him over and... yeah. Regardless, it's a load of crap. He was potentially the nicest guy I ever met, and everyone in the house can back me up on that one. He was kicked out before I even got home from work, which had me feeling like I didn't even get to say good-bye...
But then we found him at the Corsaire later that night, and, as you can tell by my facebook profile, we got some hilarious DBZ themed pictures. Did I mention the new volunteers were with us? Probably should have.
Skip back to earlier in the day.
I came home depressed because I assumed Neil was never going to be seen again. I opened the door and met Damon's equivalent, Stephan. If you don't remember me talking about Damon getting kicked out, yeah, he did. And another metal head took his place, this one being bilingual. He's a cool dude, and adjusting to our rag-tag, bitchy group fairly quickly.
Then there's Rosalie. Rosalie is a super quiet french girl with more sketches than words. "Her drawing r lik rly-rly gud gaiz." Seriously, I look forward to drafting a tattoo with that chick, because I know it's going to come out rly-rly gud.
Friday and Saturday night we volunteered at Festivent, an extension of Celebration Levis, and managed not to tear each others throats out as a result. It was actually a really cool festival. There were hot air balloons everywhere, one as the Planters Peanuts mascot, one was Darth Vaders helmet, one was a tourist penguin with a hawaiin shirt. There was a mini carnival set up with rides and donuts and llamas. But the only thing that you give a shit about is Bran Van 3000 and Wyclef Jean.
Both the shows were AMAZING. Yes, Bran Van played Drinking in LA, and yes it was sweet.
Yes, Wyclef is now dreadless (you don' gatta be dread to be rastaa), yes his show was sweet, and yes, he went Jimi Hendrix on everyone's ass. He played a solo on his knees, behind his head, and then with his teeth. It was so fucking cool. I have footage and pictures but my Macbook is too shitty to take uploads seriously. Check Facebook later and you can see some of the blurry shitt shots I took.
I miss everyone back home a ton, especially my dog.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Aaaaargh
What started out a smooth transition into group living has become a division between testosterone and estrogen, right down the gawddam middle. The past three days has created some serious tension among the house; where I thought people were adapting and accepting peoples' habits, they were actually harboring hatred for them and continuing to gossip.
An incident two nights ago at the Celebration Levis, the group was split up when some of the girls wanted to go up closer to the stage. Pete, Myself, Alex and his friend Laurence, were content where we were. We danced a couple hours away and then had to make the trip to the bus to get Laurence back to the ferry in time. I texted the girls the directions to the bus, and didn't look up at my phone again, or I don't think I did, too many beers.
Anyways, the next time I looked at my phone, I had a missed call, and four texts calling me an asshole.
Not to say that it wasn't my fault I didn't look at my phone, it was. But the reaction we received when we got home was hostile, quite so. Apologizing, pointless. Trying to make a point, worthless.
We talked about it the next day, and apparently all was well. People were back to talking, the rift between sexes seemed to have mended. Alex, Pete and I went to visit Laurence in the city. When we came back, the girls had creeped themselves out. Their dresser mirror was put in the living room, and asked if we the boys could sleep outside their room. As I stated in a previous blog, this isn't the Grudge, no one's losing their lower jaw. The ghost is a cool dude, he opened the bathroom door for me last night when I was half-dreamwalking to take a piss. But no, "we want someone to sleep on the futon."
Petey manned up for us, or rather, Alex and I went upstairs and said "Ya fackin' right."
Outside of that, the bs isn't going to end in the foreseeable future. Even this morning, we're having issues with the showering system. I just try to be a conscious observer, but somehow, I'm always going to end up being an asshole.
Man, I missed you high school.
I'm hoping the arrival of our two new members on Wednesday seals the gap that the group has made for itself. Not everyone has the mental fortitude to stick it out through that kind of stuff, and people are showing signs of caving.
Honestly, it's not as bad as I'm making it out to be.
An incident two nights ago at the Celebration Levis, the group was split up when some of the girls wanted to go up closer to the stage. Pete, Myself, Alex and his friend Laurence, were content where we were. We danced a couple hours away and then had to make the trip to the bus to get Laurence back to the ferry in time. I texted the girls the directions to the bus, and didn't look up at my phone again, or I don't think I did, too many beers.
Anyways, the next time I looked at my phone, I had a missed call, and four texts calling me an asshole.
Not to say that it wasn't my fault I didn't look at my phone, it was. But the reaction we received when we got home was hostile, quite so. Apologizing, pointless. Trying to make a point, worthless.
We talked about it the next day, and apparently all was well. People were back to talking, the rift between sexes seemed to have mended. Alex, Pete and I went to visit Laurence in the city. When we came back, the girls had creeped themselves out. Their dresser mirror was put in the living room, and asked if we the boys could sleep outside their room. As I stated in a previous blog, this isn't the Grudge, no one's losing their lower jaw. The ghost is a cool dude, he opened the bathroom door for me last night when I was half-dreamwalking to take a piss. But no, "we want someone to sleep on the futon."
Petey manned up for us, or rather, Alex and I went upstairs and said "Ya fackin' right."
Outside of that, the bs isn't going to end in the foreseeable future. Even this morning, we're having issues with the showering system. I just try to be a conscious observer, but somehow, I'm always going to end up being an asshole.
Man, I missed you high school.
I'm hoping the arrival of our two new members on Wednesday seals the gap that the group has made for itself. Not everyone has the mental fortitude to stick it out through that kind of stuff, and people are showing signs of caving.
Honestly, it's not as bad as I'm making it out to be.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
My parents don't get to see Rod Stewart
Now that I'm back at Cafe La Mosaique, I feel more compelled to blog than I have all week...
... except I don't have a f***ing clue what to write about. Start simple, I guess.
Being house manager was not what it was cracked up to be, as Alex and Marc-Olivier are now discovering. Regardless of how much you b*tch at people to clean up their breakfast dishes, they aren't going to do it. "Sorry, I didn't have time before work to clean my pan, plate, cutlery and 3 different cups."
FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
I feel for them both. Robyn and I had to deal with that sh*t 7 days in a row.
Different topic. Alex, Pete and I went on a nice saturday night excursion to Quebec to meet up with one of Alex's old friends, Laurence. She's a sweet girl, and the apartment she gets to live in is ballin'. She's renting a room from a couple who have renovated a super old school place with super modernized furniture while still holding onto every old floorboard and brick that was used originally.
F*ck you, HGTV.
Anyways, we sat around, drank, swapped stories and then legged it back for the last ferry home. We have plans to do more of the same next Friday, but with more time and more beer. As it happens, my friend Lejla Dumont is in Quebec right now! Go figure. The more the merrier.
Once again, it's pissing rain here. normally I wouldn't care, but today I have to f***ing walk to work, and it rains harder here than it does in Vancouver. Not as often, but way, wayyyy harder.
Starting Thursday we're volunteering TWO jobs a day until Saturday. our regular jobs, and then Celebration Levis, which is essentially a 3-day long party, capped off by a Rod Stewart concert. (That's right mom, dad, he's gonna be here. I don't even listen to his music, hahahaha, suckers.)
Still I don't much fancy working 14 hours a day for 3 days and not being paid for it. siiiiiigh, tis what I signeth up for.
Time to trudge through the rain.
... except I don't have a f***ing clue what to write about. Start simple, I guess.
Being house manager was not what it was cracked up to be, as Alex and Marc-Olivier are now discovering. Regardless of how much you b*tch at people to clean up their breakfast dishes, they aren't going to do it. "Sorry, I didn't have time before work to clean my pan, plate, cutlery and 3 different cups."
FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
I feel for them both. Robyn and I had to deal with that sh*t 7 days in a row.
Different topic. Alex, Pete and I went on a nice saturday night excursion to Quebec to meet up with one of Alex's old friends, Laurence. She's a sweet girl, and the apartment she gets to live in is ballin'. She's renting a room from a couple who have renovated a super old school place with super modernized furniture while still holding onto every old floorboard and brick that was used originally.
F*ck you, HGTV.
Anyways, we sat around, drank, swapped stories and then legged it back for the last ferry home. We have plans to do more of the same next Friday, but with more time and more beer. As it happens, my friend Lejla Dumont is in Quebec right now! Go figure. The more the merrier.
Once again, it's pissing rain here. normally I wouldn't care, but today I have to f***ing walk to work, and it rains harder here than it does in Vancouver. Not as often, but way, wayyyy harder.
Starting Thursday we're volunteering TWO jobs a day until Saturday. our regular jobs, and then Celebration Levis, which is essentially a 3-day long party, capped off by a Rod Stewart concert. (That's right mom, dad, he's gonna be here. I don't even listen to his music, hahahaha, suckers.)
Still I don't much fancy working 14 hours a day for 3 days and not being paid for it. siiiiiigh, tis what I signeth up for.
Time to trudge through the rain.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Why?
One month in, two people down. One because they hated it, one because he loved us.
what a load.
what a load.
Damn dem Po-Po...
You try and walk to the store for a snack, and all you get is stopped by the cops.
In between Katima-meetings I tried to march through the rain and get some snacks, but the cops didn't want me to. Apparently some little shit has done some shitty little thing and now the Levis PD is patrolling my street constantly, or so I think, because they won't say a thing except "on cherche quelque-un" or "we're looking for someone."
Regardless, my second/third week in Levis has been a good one. We found an outdoor, public pool close to the house and it's a great way to cool off in this humid-ass weather. I've experienced 5 lightning storms since I got here, one of them forcing (and I mean forcing) some of the crew and myself to take shelter in a bar near my work with some girls we met last weekend... forced, I tell ya.
Sunday, we had a girl named Pascale come in and teach us how to make our own bread and pizza dough. Now the whole house smells delicioussss.
This week, we've implemented the house manager system for the first time. Robyn and I will be playing the mom n dad/slaves/maids/cooks/dishwasher roles this week. All house chores are on us til Sunday night, and then the process starts over with a different duo skipping work to do other work.
On a creepier note, it appears as though our humble home is haunted. We've awoken several times to loud bangs, open cabinets, and odd noises. I've got not issue with it, I think it's rad. But the girls won't even approach the top floor of our house because they're scared. I sleep up there, so I don't get a choice, but it's really nice having the ghost open the door for you when you're "lacking a clear mind."
Ah well, I'm going to go lie on my stomach and hope it knows thai massage to some degree.
In between Katima-meetings I tried to march through the rain and get some snacks, but the cops didn't want me to. Apparently some little shit has done some shitty little thing and now the Levis PD is patrolling my street constantly, or so I think, because they won't say a thing except "on cherche quelque-un" or "we're looking for someone."
Regardless, my second/third week in Levis has been a good one. We found an outdoor, public pool close to the house and it's a great way to cool off in this humid-ass weather. I've experienced 5 lightning storms since I got here, one of them forcing (and I mean forcing) some of the crew and myself to take shelter in a bar near my work with some girls we met last weekend... forced, I tell ya.
Sunday, we had a girl named Pascale come in and teach us how to make our own bread and pizza dough. Now the whole house smells delicioussss.
This week, we've implemented the house manager system for the first time. Robyn and I will be playing the mom n dad/slaves/maids/cooks/dishwasher roles this week. All house chores are on us til Sunday night, and then the process starts over with a different duo skipping work to do other work.
On a creepier note, it appears as though our humble home is haunted. We've awoken several times to loud bangs, open cabinets, and odd noises. I've got not issue with it, I think it's rad. But the girls won't even approach the top floor of our house because they're scared. I sleep up there, so I don't get a choice, but it's really nice having the ghost open the door for you when you're "lacking a clear mind."
Ah well, I'm going to go lie on my stomach and hope it knows thai massage to some degree.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Cafe La Mosaique
Despite my brain-dead state, I felt compelled to say that my volunteer placement is the sh*t.
Cafe La Mosaique is a mellow, delicious little spot in Levis that serves fair-trade products and has a big handful of volunteers that put in their time on a weekly basis. Sarah, the girl who trained me, is quite luckily an anglophone and relaxed like yours truly. My boss Catherine is very bilingual although she is a francophone, and apparently she's even more more mellow than Sarah. These next two months are sure to be a delight, despite my lack of enjoyment for standing for long periods of time. This, however, is countered by the fact that I don't start work until 10:30 every day, while the other Katimacrew have to be out of the house by 8:00. I'm the last person home from work, but I can deal with the extra sleep.
Tonight I was unaware of the fact that apparently I was supposed to make dinner for everyone, so the sitting-down was short lived. I corralled a little kitchen team and made a vegetarian-rotini-cheese-casserole.
My stomach can't possibly eat more, although it wants to. Everyone's diet has improved dramatically, but our last two trips to Wal-Mart have proved that the allure of a McDouble is too tempting. Fatty foods aren't so much a treat, but are becoming more uncommon. The exception to this rule? A fried chicken place up the road from the house, and the plethora of poutine available in quebec.
Last night we hit up a bar down the street from the Katimahouse called L'Ingerable. The team had a great time together and even got back home before our Project Leader made it back from his band practice. Not bad considering our curfew. The pictures are on facebook, but there's a beauty vid of one of our Taiwan students, Mark, trying out his first tequila shot...
... but blogger's uploader is garbage, so you'll have to wait for their input format to not suck to see it.
All this food and typing is making me sleepy. Goodnight, my very few readers.
Hales.
Cafe La Mosaique is a mellow, delicious little spot in Levis that serves fair-trade products and has a big handful of volunteers that put in their time on a weekly basis. Sarah, the girl who trained me, is quite luckily an anglophone and relaxed like yours truly. My boss Catherine is very bilingual although she is a francophone, and apparently she's even more more mellow than Sarah. These next two months are sure to be a delight, despite my lack of enjoyment for standing for long periods of time. This, however, is countered by the fact that I don't start work until 10:30 every day, while the other Katimacrew have to be out of the house by 8:00. I'm the last person home from work, but I can deal with the extra sleep.
Tonight I was unaware of the fact that apparently I was supposed to make dinner for everyone, so the sitting-down was short lived. I corralled a little kitchen team and made a vegetarian-rotini-cheese-casserole.
My stomach can't possibly eat more, although it wants to. Everyone's diet has improved dramatically, but our last two trips to Wal-Mart have proved that the allure of a McDouble is too tempting. Fatty foods aren't so much a treat, but are becoming more uncommon. The exception to this rule? A fried chicken place up the road from the house, and the plethora of poutine available in quebec.
Last night we hit up a bar down the street from the Katimahouse called L'Ingerable. The team had a great time together and even got back home before our Project Leader made it back from his band practice. Not bad considering our curfew. The pictures are on facebook, but there's a beauty vid of one of our Taiwan students, Mark, trying out his first tequila shot...
... but blogger's uploader is garbage, so you'll have to wait for their input format to not suck to see it.
All this food and typing is making me sleepy. Goodnight, my very few readers.
Hales.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
No One is Going to the Farm
Today we got our job placements and, thank the flying spaghetti monster, no one ended up on the farm. Seeing as how the only people who read this our my friends, the house, and my mom, it should be made known to you guys that I'm going to be working at a non-profit, fair-trade cafe called Cafe La Mosaique.
My boss, Catherine, is bilingual, so the learning process should be easy(er). Two months making coffee and paninis is probably one of the best ways I could have hoped to be volunteering :p
The interview process was done speed-dating style. Five minutes with an employer, switch, five minutes switch... and to the best of my knowledge, everyone ended up with a job that they're going to enjoy. The cafe was one of my top choices, so I was really stoked when I found out what I was doing.
This also gives me an excuse to FINALLY get a longboard after a year and a half of my mom complaining about safety issues and me wasting my money. Sorry mom, but walking down hills is stupid. Uphill, fine, good exercise. Flat, boring as all hell. Downhill, you wish you had a bike or skateboard anyways so you could just GET THAT SHIT OVER WITH.
I will gladly get a helmet AND slide gloves so that I'm a safe little boy and my mommy can stop wondering if my brains slid further than my body when I "crashed."
But enough of my awful attitude. The house has eliminated it's grumpy factor from yesterday and for the first time in three days we're not dodging Zeus and his lightning bolts. It's sunny and warm with a slight breeze. We made a stop at Walmart and Canadian Tire today to get desk fans and a filtered water jug. Solid investments in this house, because I'm sick of waking up with a stomach ache and my bedsheets, blanket and pillow being sweaty.
Contrarily, I'm going to go work up a sweat with some ultimate frisbee and some baskestball.
Hales.
My boss, Catherine, is bilingual, so the learning process should be easy(er). Two months making coffee and paninis is probably one of the best ways I could have hoped to be volunteering :p
The interview process was done speed-dating style. Five minutes with an employer, switch, five minutes switch... and to the best of my knowledge, everyone ended up with a job that they're going to enjoy. The cafe was one of my top choices, so I was really stoked when I found out what I was doing.
This also gives me an excuse to FINALLY get a longboard after a year and a half of my mom complaining about safety issues and me wasting my money. Sorry mom, but walking down hills is stupid. Uphill, fine, good exercise. Flat, boring as all hell. Downhill, you wish you had a bike or skateboard anyways so you could just GET THAT SHIT OVER WITH.
I will gladly get a helmet AND slide gloves so that I'm a safe little boy and my mommy can stop wondering if my brains slid further than my body when I "crashed."
But enough of my awful attitude. The house has eliminated it's grumpy factor from yesterday and for the first time in three days we're not dodging Zeus and his lightning bolts. It's sunny and warm with a slight breeze. We made a stop at Walmart and Canadian Tire today to get desk fans and a filtered water jug. Solid investments in this house, because I'm sick of waking up with a stomach ache and my bedsheets, blanket and pillow being sweaty.
Contrarily, I'm going to go work up a sweat with some ultimate frisbee and some baskestball.
Hales.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Wet Work
The 21161 got their first taste of Quebec weather in the summer last night. A lightning bolt smashed into a backyard not even 30 meters from our front door. The thunderclap rattled all our windows and our mental stability apparently, hahaha. Humidity isn't our friend so far, as now we're into our second day of lightning storms and our sixth day of waking up covered in sweat from the saunas that are our bedrooms.
Regardless, the experience is proving to be a character builder. Today we met with our potential work placements, all of whom seemed very friendly and very excited to have us. Tomorrow are our interviews with said bosses, and then wednesday is our first day of work. We spent the whole day in the Katimavan, which is a beast to navigate through these narrow Quebec streets. Everyone was very tired and cranky near the end, so it was good we finished our tour when we did.
On a sour note, one of our francophones, Valerie, decided to drop out of the program. All she said was she didn't like it, next thing you know I'm dragging her bag down the back stairs of our house and into her mother's car. We'll be meeting her replacement in the coming weeks, exactly when, however, remains to be said.
Drinking water is also an issue here. The tap water is sure to make you a little sick, so we've been buying jugs of water for the house. We're using one 8L jug a day, so it's time to invest in a water filter for the tap.
The Osheaga music festival in Montreal is at the end of the month. Seeing as how we can't all pay for it, we might not end up going as we planned. If you don't want to browse the site to see who's playing, the short list is Flaming Lips, Eminem, Shad, Elvis Costello, Kid Cudi, Ratatat, Death from Above 1979, just to name a few. Theres just about 100 artists/ groups playing, which is more than enough incentive to get down there.
It's pouring rain, but we're all boiling, sweaty kids... I'm going to change.
Hales.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
WTF Blogspot, WTF...
Hi friends and family! All is well, minus the fact that this blog site is garbage. Tried changing my profile for ten minutes, always error messages, so f**k it.
We're currently discussing house cleaning issues and assigning the roles of house managers for the week. Each week, two people skip work for 5 days to maintain the house and cook for the the Katimacrew. Today is the first assignment of that role, and I'm hoping I can swing the vote so I can get some writing done and to upload pictures, etc, but I also wouldn't mind being house manager when my mommy comes to visit :)
I've been asked to design a house emblem. The current idea is a pirate riding an eagle fighting a dragon accompanied by ninjas... and the group number, 21161. I think it'll look great...
We hit up the Quebec Festival the day before last. Never had such good poutine, and I never though Quebec City would be such an amazing place. The culture is amazing, the people are friendly, the beer is unbelievably cheap. We met a really nice girl, Jeanne, who's also doing a volunteer program called Explore. She's heading out to Victoria for a month so she's going to hang out with us when she gets back. Did I mention she's a lounge singer? Crazy.
But back to the present.
A major focus in the Katimavik program is the development of competencies as a group and as an individual (engaging as a citizen, active and healthy lifestyles, etc.). The group works on all components of one competency, but as an individual you focus on several elements of several competencies, but not the degree were about to embark on. With the Healthy Lifestyle competency, a lot of smokers in the house are about to start tweaking out, but it's the choice we all agreed on.
Speaking of lung deficiencies, I went on a run yesterday morning. I think I punctured both of my lungs by the time I got back. Word of advice to out of shape people, start with jogging up and down the street, not running the 1200m full bore around lower Levis.
We're about to go on a cleaning blitz. I'll have pictures up once blogspot stops being total shite.
Lots of Love
Hales.
PS, the beach that we hang out is at the end of Rue(Street) Fagot(Faggot)
hahaha
We're currently discussing house cleaning issues and assigning the roles of house managers for the week. Each week, two people skip work for 5 days to maintain the house and cook for the the Katimacrew. Today is the first assignment of that role, and I'm hoping I can swing the vote so I can get some writing done and to upload pictures, etc, but I also wouldn't mind being house manager when my mommy comes to visit :)
I've been asked to design a house emblem. The current idea is a pirate riding an eagle fighting a dragon accompanied by ninjas... and the group number, 21161. I think it'll look great...
We hit up the Quebec Festival the day before last. Never had such good poutine, and I never though Quebec City would be such an amazing place. The culture is amazing, the people are friendly, the beer is unbelievably cheap. We met a really nice girl, Jeanne, who's also doing a volunteer program called Explore. She's heading out to Victoria for a month so she's going to hang out with us when she gets back. Did I mention she's a lounge singer? Crazy.
But back to the present.
A major focus in the Katimavik program is the development of competencies as a group and as an individual (engaging as a citizen, active and healthy lifestyles, etc.). The group works on all components of one competency, but as an individual you focus on several elements of several competencies, but not the degree were about to embark on. With the Healthy Lifestyle competency, a lot of smokers in the house are about to start tweaking out, but it's the choice we all agreed on.
Speaking of lung deficiencies, I went on a run yesterday morning. I think I punctured both of my lungs by the time I got back. Word of advice to out of shape people, start with jogging up and down the street, not running the 1200m full bore around lower Levis.
We're about to go on a cleaning blitz. I'll have pictures up once blogspot stops being total shite.
Lots of Love
Hales.
PS, the beach that we hang out is at the end of Rue(Street) Fagot(Faggot)
hahaha
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