This year I flew to Montreal for Halloween weekend.  Montreal (and its lovely inhabitants) always seem to take my favorite holiday way more seriously than Winnipeg does, so I just couldn’t bear to miss it.  I had a hard time coming up with a costume idea – I eventually went with Gym Teacher – and it wasn’t until I got to Montreal that I realized how low I had set the bar.  Those folks are creative to the max.  At any rate, I arrived Friday morning, just in time to do some shopping (instructions to the cab driver at the airport: “Take me to Simon’s!”) and hit up my friend Brianne’s faculty bake sale at McGill.

The weekend was, in a word, awesome.  Friday night I saw my friends’ band, On Bodies, play at the Playhouse for Faggity Ass Fridays.  The proceeds of that show went to Head and Hands, an organization that does sex ed since Quebec has abolished their sex ed program (worst decision ever?!).  The night was zombie-themed, but I hadn’t prepared a zombie costume.  Luckily, Dallas did my makeup, and did such an amazing job that I scared myself when I looked in the mirror.

Photo by Dallas Curow

We spent the night drinking cheap beer, listening to On Bodies play an amazing show, and dancing sweatily on stage.  Beaucoup de fun.  Afterwards we went to Palaise Royale, possibly the worst restaurant in Montreal, solely for the comedic value.  They have terrible food and worse service, but it was one of the highlights of the night.  Particularly our drunken rendition of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song, as the Anglo-hating waitress tried to ignore us/told the cooks to piss in our food.

On Bodies at Faggity Ass Fridays
Photo by Dallas Curow

Saturday was spent lounging and nursing the headache from the previous night’s beer consumption.  I met up with Karen and spent a lovely few hours catching up with her at a coffee shop before heading back to Dallas and Brian’s to get ready for the night’s festivities.  Peter dressed up again as his lady-self, Petra, and quickly became my Gym Teacher alter-ego’s nemesis.  Coach McDyke has no patience for insolence.  We’re in the process of pitching our sitcom idea.  Petra and the Wolf will be a huge hit.  Dallas, Brian and their friends Jennie and Zach dressed each as different versions of Elvis.  Their costumes put us to shame – they were fantastic!

Photo by Dallas Curow

A bunch of people came over to pregame and watch the Habs play Toronto as Dallas and Jennie made delicious cupcakes and pumpkin cake.  We left around 10pm to head to FouFounes Electrique for their amazing Halloween party.  I cabbed there with Brianne and Petra and we managed to get the most hilarious and terrifying cab driver I’ve ever encountered.  Not only was he driving like a fucking drunken maniac, but he was hitting on Petra like nobody’s business, trying to convince her to stay in the cab with him and smoke hash.  It was hilarious and bizarre.

FouFounes did not disappoint.  It took us a while to get in, but the costumes and atmosphere were absolutely amazing.  I’ve never been to a Halloween party where I was actually scared of some of the people in costume – seriously, if you have a fear of clowns, stay far away from that place.  It was intense.  The costume contest was awesome, the winners of which were a group of guys dressed like green toy soldiers, each with his own weapon and pose.  Runners up were Slash, complete with guitar and mini-amp, and H1N1, complete with giant foam hands and head.  One of the costumes that should have won was a woman dressed up like the most convincing zombie I have ever seen.  She was covered in blood and rotting flesh, her hair was in clumps, and she was twitching and shaking all over the stage.  Creepy as fuck.  Unfortunately, her male zombie partner was acting like a total d-bag so they were booed off the stage.

Photo by Brianne Selman

Photo by Dallas Curow

Photo by Dallas Curow

After a night of $1 beers and many a photo-op, we headed to The Main (naturally) for some late night poutine.  Poots and a pickle.  Story of my life.  The Elvii were even serenaded by a drunken old woman who stood on her table and flashed us while cooing “final curtain call!”  It was slightly disturbing and majorly awesome.

My flight didn’t leave until 7pm on Sunday, so we went to Fuscia for brunch on Sunday afternoon and watched a few episodes of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia – which is fast becoming one of my favorite shows.  The weekend was a total success, save for the minor heartbreak of losing my camera somewhere between the serenading flasher at The Main and the cab ride back to Dallas and Brian’s place.  I had a billion Halloween photos on that thing (and had kept such a close eye on it all weekend), so I was pretty distraught to find out it had gone missing.  So far, no sign, so it looks like it’s gone forever.  Someone else will find it and hopefully enjoy all of the hilarious photos of Petra, the FouFounes costume contest, the Elvii, and everyone else’s amazing costumes.  I guess the upside is that I can now justify buying a new, fancier camera.  In the meantime, though, I’ve managed to borrow my parents’ camera, so I’m not completely without the ability to document my escapades.

So, despite losing a bevvy of photographic gems that really do deserve to be shared with the world, this weekend was exactly what I had hoped for.  I just found out that our flights to Mexico this winter have gone down in price, so I’m able to get a credit with WestJet, which seems to me to be the perfect excuse to head back to Montreal and spend another weekend acting the fool.  Poots and a Pickle.

Photo by Brianne Selman

I really enjoy makeup.  I don’t wear a lot of it anymore, but I love experimenting with it on a night out and I’ve got enough MAC eyeshadow to sink a ship.  I used to be a huge fan of wearing bright, crazy colours (during my younger days I was known to wear red MAC pigment on my eyes) – and I still am a fan of those colours, but now that I’m working in an office that has essentially zero walk-in traffic, I don’t have the energy to make myself up just for the Purolator guy.  Working with my father has meant that my appearance has become incredibly low-key.  Case in point: right now I’m wearing tights with paint all over them and I haven’t washed my hair in three days.  But, by counteracting that with some mascara and blush, it all evens out, right?

At any rate, while I like makeup (and I still buy a lot of it, even if I don’t wear it that often), I’m no makeup artist, and I often have a hard time doing anything that requires a steady hand (or being able to draw a straight line).  Putting on eyeliner has become easier over the years, but still takes me forever and a handful of Q-tips to clean up the mess I inevitably make all over my eyelids.  I’ve checked out some of the “How To” videos on Youtube, but some of them show women applying pounds of makeup that results in a racoon-esque look that I’m just not into.  Enter MAC tutorials.  Dallas pointed me to these in a recent blog post and I just spent the morning watching all of them.  While the smokey eye dude goes way too fast for me and the model ends up looking kind of like she was punched in the eyes, there are helpful tips to take from all of the videos.

Maybe if you take the blindfold off it’d be easier?

In particular, the Perfect Red Lip tutorial – who knew you are supposed to apply foundation to your lips first?  I know I had a hell of a time applying Dallas’ new red MAC lipstick in the bathroom of the Hotel de la Montagne after a few drinks and some encouragement during our Mad Men party (by the end of the night ever woman at the party was wearing Dallas’ lipstick), though that could have been partly due to the gin.  At any rate, these videos are helpful and if they make me look less like a preschooler has drawn on my face, then they’re worth something.

Perhaps it’s the general air of financial frugality as of late, or perhaps it’s just a new incarnation of my regular attempt at saving cash, but recently I’ve really enjoyed shopping at Value Village.

Matt and I went to VV this weekend to pick up the supplies we’d need to shoot our second annual Christmas Card Photo – cheezy sweaters and terrible jewellry – and I found myself elated at the bargain prices at which I was finding some pretty decent duds.  Yesterday I was at Winner’s with a friend and decided to see what they had in the way of skirts or dresses for my upcoming trip to Cuba, but found myself completely unwilling to spend $18 on a skirt before checking out what VV had to offer.  I’ve already decided to stop in there at lunch today to fill out my Cuba wardrobe.

Shopping for clothing is always a bit of a struggle for me, for a number of reasons.  I realize that I’m not able to spend a lot of money on clothing, so the stuff that I do buy has to fit a number of criteria: it has to be inexpensive, it has to be versatile, and it has to fit.  And with losing the bit of weight that I’ve lost over the last few months, it’s been hard to keep up with finding new clothes that fit – mostly hard on my wallet.  I’m down to two pairs of jeans – one of which I’ve realized, much to my dismay, are definitely “Mom Jeans,” a few skirts – none of which are warm enough for a Winnipeg Winter, and two pairs of yoga-esque pants that are too big for me and fall off when I run to catch the bus with my hands full with my purse and gym bag (thank god for the long coat I was wearing).  Hooray my pants don’t fit.  Boourns I have no pants.

But buying clothes, whether it’s because my old clothes have gotten too big or not, has always been a source of stress – I want to convey a particular image with what I wear (which is easy to forget when I go in to work at an office I share with my Dad, far from the public eye…hence the sweats), I want to look stylish, but not super trendy.  I want to look like I have a realistic idea of what fits me and what looks good on me (I always have Stacey and Clinton in the back of my mind), but cheap, trendy clothes are always the least expensive.  So it’s hard to be able to pick and choose from the readily available trendy crap that’s at the malls in a way that avoids making me look like a walking advertisement or that person you see walking down the street whose attire just screams “unoriginal.”  Thanks to all the friggin’ hipsters I constantly think twice when I pick up a plaid shirt or a pair of tights or a scarf that even slight resembles a ‘jihad scarf’.  All of this would seem much easier had I more money to spend on good quality, unique clothing.  Or a stylist.  Or even some sense of the ‘image’ I’m trying to portray (other than “I love pajamas!”).  Right now I’m just focusing on coverage – that is, covering my body with clothes that won’t require that I go hungry for dipping into my grocery budget.

So, with this is mind, when I saw a clip from last month’s episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia that featured the hilarious Dee attempting to class it up in a similar vein, I could totally relate.  I can’t seem to find the clip online anywhere to embed it, so check it out here.

If we’re going to be meeting sophisticated men, we need to start acting with class.  We cannot be telling people that we have bleached assholes.

He was going to find out anyway.

Story of my life.

On Friday I had the pleasure of hanging out with Karen for a few hours, as she was in town on her way back to Montreal from a business trip up north. Karen and I became fast friends when we both moved from Winnipeg to Montreal in September 2006 – both having lived in Winnipeg for most of our lives, having mutual friends, but never having met. Luckily for me, I met her five days before I moved to Montreal, and we decided to get in touch once she moved there as neither of us knew anyone in Frenchtown. Thank the sweet lord for Karen’s friendship – without it I would’ve ended up a nervous mess, probably still curled up in the fetal position somewhere in the bowels of the Montreal metro system, or, even more likely, curled up in the fetal position in my teeny apartment, refusing to go out.

It was great to spend time and catch up, if only for a few hours. Karen’s ear is one that I’ve definitely put to good use, as she’s acted as my personal therapist on a number of occasions. There are few people in my life that I can trust to give me such good advice, or just truly listen. It’s so lovely to have friends with whom I can pick up where we left off, even if we haven’t seen each other in months. I’ll be out in Montreal again at the end of April for a conference, so I’m looking forward to spending nearly a week with her then as well.

Being the thoughtful friend that she is, Karen presented me with a Lulu Lemon gift card as a belated Christmas present…knowing that setting Jessica loose in Lulu Lemon is a sight so chaotic and ridiculous that it’s best she’s in Montreal while it takes place. Unsurprisingly, I only lasted a day before I had to get out to Polo Park Shopping Centre and go mental. I dragged Meghan there with me on Sunday afternoon, as it was the last day Matt and I had the use of his Dad’s car while he was out of town, which seemed like a perfect excuse to go shopping. Instead of getting more workout gear or a pair of ridiculously expensive, yet equally ridiculously comfortable sweats, I got a bag. And this isn’t just any bag. It is the bag. The bag to end all bags. The best bag I’ve ever had. It’s so great, I think I have feelings for it. I don’t just like it, I like-like it. The same way I liked the coach of the senior boy’s volleyball team in high school. This bag is cute as fuck.

I realize it’s ridiculous to be so attached to a material object, particularly one that doesn’t really serve any purpose but to hold other material objects, but it really is great. Trust me, you’d think the same thing.

I know, right?

The moral: Karen knows me all too well. I pretend I’m not into expensive trendy shit, but really, I am. There, I said it. Now I’ll be one of “those people” who walk around with a logo-item that everyone knows is way too expensive to justify. But I have an excuse: it was a present. So leave me alone while I whisper sweet nothings to my bag.