UPDATE:

There are dead bugs in my fridge. Nice. Real nice. :(

I have finally settled in my dorm room (whoopie doo.) and I basically live in jail cell. Earlier this evening I found a dead beetle on its back, it was a little unsettling. My mattress is covered in hospital green plastic, making it impossible to sleep on at night, and it is UNBEARABLY hot in here, due to the lack of the goodness that is called AC. Thank God I have a fan. I want to say I'm extremely excited and pumped to learn french and live here for a month, but in reality I think I'm not. I super miss home (already) and the duo (no longer the trio! pooo! ). I even miss J even though he lives here, just when I was beginning to get used to things. It was good to talk with Che tonight and catch up, left me all teary eyed. Its only a few days in, I think I just have get used to this.
A recap of what has happened the last couple of days: Pizza Hutttttt yum. yum. Les Studios, Res. BOO. Emily's "jaffa" cakes view from my window. booorrring. Bierre on st. laurent. 2 dollah chowmein My jail cell. I miss these goons.

And so it begins.

I think I've decided that I don't like flying. The flight was pretty flat, but aside from the shitty recycled air that left my throat dry and sore, and that I had no other option but to sit between two people, it was relatively pleasant (in the sense that I generally don't like flying). Laubo checked me in, which was a bonus and Elaine came to see me go, extra bonus. The Winnipeg Blue Bombers were on the flight as well, that was kind of neat, I guess. I didn't sit with any of them though. Because they are larger men, they are seated through out the plane and not altogether to keep it balanced. I thought that little factoid was neat. The girl next to me was reading a french book called La Fee Carabine and I don't know that means. What else? I hate chewable pills, gravol gross. So now I'm basically just waiting for J to pick me up, oh and it's raining. I'm kind of glad for that. Wait, actually I am.

There is a man who comes into the store every so often, asking to do the windows for ten dollars, but Mike is never around. He's even bought a pad of manual receipts to give out. Today I told him to come by on Canada day. He pulled out his pad of receipts and attempted at writing something out, when he asked me how to spell Canada. I'm pretty sure he was borderline illiterate. I secretly watched as he struggled at forming the letter 'd'. I guess I'm naive, but I can't believe there are people out there who can't read. This upsets me.

holograms and gay men on scooters.

Some crappy pictures of the MIA concert, (that does not justify how much fun it was), and a dazzling french man I met in the exchange today. Look at those killer legs. .