Illegalities....

So, I was bored last night. Couldn't sleep, getting over a migraine and other various aches and pains. Finished my 10 chapter fanfiction I had been reading for days. It was good. I enjoyed it and sent comments to tell the writer so. These fanfic writers, they don't get paid, they run these huge websites on their own funds. Their currency is praise. Pretty pure currency as far as I am concerned, I mean you won't ever see a sweatshop based on paying the workers 1/4 the praise that everyone else gets. So I gave her some. Didn't cost me anything.

We saw "Garden State" the other day. Natalie Portman has such a pure face. Translucent skin... really just a very pretty girl. It was hard to connect the young woman on the screen with the girl from "The Professional" and "Leon".

Anyway, (I told you guys that my thoughts were going to be disjointed and scattered- it's your own fault for still reading if you get frustrated), I have had this song from that movie stuck in my head since we saw it. It gets reinforced everytime I see a commercial for the movie because they play a snippet of it over the last few seconds of the commercial. The only part of the song you can hear on the commercial says, "So, let go. Let go. Jump in." You can hear a synthesizer- taking the place of a bunch of instruments, a piano, a strong bass beat... and the voice is something of a cross between the lead singer for the Smashing Pumpkins and a sunrise. Hard to put a finger on, and harder to determine if it is male or female.

Anyway, I thought it was beautiful and haunting. I also was thinking that maybe Someone was trying to tell me something. So I went online and dug around to find the song. And I did. I downloaded it last night. It is a beautiful song called "Let Go" by a group called Frou Frou. I highly recommend it. Here are the lyrics. Maybe there is someone else out there who needs to hear these words set down in just this order as much as I did.


Let Go
by Frou Frou

Drink up baby doll
Are you in or are you out?
Leave your things behind
'Cause it's all going off without you
Excuse me too busy you're writing a tragedy
These mess-ups
You bubble-wrap
When you've no idea what you're like

So, let go
So, let go
Jump in
Oh well, what you waiting for?
It's all right
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown
So, let go
Let go
Just get in
Oh, it's so amazing here
It's all right
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown

It gains the more it gives
And then advances with the form
So, honey, back for more
Can't you see that all that stuff's essential?
Such boundless pleasure
We've no time for later
Now you can wait
You roll your eyes
We've twenty seconds to comply

So, let go
So, let go
Jump in
Oh well, what you waiting for?
It's all right
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown
So, let go
Yeah, let go
Just get in
Oh, it's so amazing here
It's all right
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown.

_________________________________


Kind of nice, huh? That's all for now.

Love to all,

Sherry

I am grateful.

Today I am grateful and terribly humbled before the two people in my life who love me and have continued to offer their love and support to me, in spite of everything bad that is happening to me (and inside me) right now.

For Mom and Franz- both of you will never know how much your love means to me. Both of you will never know how much the fact that you are willing to support me through one of the hardest times in my life means to me. Thank you both for loving me and sticking with me.

I doubt I will be writing very much in the coming weeks. At least, not very much that is coherant or meaningful. I am trying to quit the antidepressant I have been taking for the last few years. I am weaning myself off of it, but it has not been easy. And I am not even half way through the pocedure, yet. I cry all the time. I can't sleep. I have all but lost my appetite- especially at night for some reason. I feel like my thoughts are bees buzzing around in my head. Like there is an electrical storm crashing around in my skull. I can't keep a train of thought on the tracks for very long. I guess that they call it "rumination." I call it hell.

All hail GlaxoSmithKline for making a drug that helps you immensely, but that is so hard to leave behind. And they say it's not addictive.

I am beginning to wonder who I will be without the Wellbutrin. I am beginning to wonder who I was... how much of it was me, and how much of it was the drug? I guess I will know in a few months.

Thanks again Mom and Franz. I love you both with all my heart, and whatever is left of my dopamine-enhanced addled mind.

Love to all,

Sherry

Should have known better...

Well, it appears I should have stuck to my previous idea of not posting anything regarding the possibilities of a job or job interviews. It just gets everyone's hopes up for nothing.

I didn't get the job. I am not going to get the job. My interview lasted all of 10 minutes. People- who didn't bother to read my resume- thought I had a Master's degree in Social Work. I do not. Nothing on my resume even implies that I have a Master's Degree. But, one person who didn't read it told another person who didn't read it, and so on, and so on. And the woman in charge of interviewing me today? Well, it was painfully obvious that she did not read my resume when she mentioned my Master's Degree, and I corrected her. She immediately started reading it to see where things went wrong.

Funny thing is, though, my internship? I was working right along side Master's degree level candidates. Doing almost the exact same job that they were doing. They did intakes, I did intakes. All that this job is, when you get down to it, is using the skills it takes to do an intake. You assess a patient, and refer them for appropriate services in the community. Doesn't sound like it would take a Master's Degree does it? Amazingly enough, not even the huamn resources department thinks so... take a look at part of the job posting....

"Position is on-call, varied. Bachelors degree in Nursing or Social Work required. (MSN or MSW preferred) Bachelors degree in a related field may be considered."

That sure sounds like me, doesn't it? Bachelor's Degree in Social Work.

Anyways, that's all for now. Thanks to everyone who prayed for me, or sent sparkly good wishes my way, as the case may be. It is appreciated, even if it didn't work.

Love to all,

Sherry

I HAVE A JOB INTERVIEW TOMORROW!!!

YES! YES! YES!

O.K.- I don't want to get anybody's hopes up (especially you, Mom!!) but I have a job interview tomorrow at 2pm for the first position I applied for MONTHS ago!!!

I'm not saying where it is, and I'm not going to say what the job is.... but it is a job I can easily see myself doing, and I would be working with friends!!!!!!

YES!!! YES!!!! YEEEEESSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

Everybody... please pray for me! I want this job so bad, I can almost taste it. Wait... that could be where I bit my tongue when I got the message to page the hiring person. Oh, GOD!! I can't wait until tomorrow!!!

Okay, that's all for now.

BIG TIME Love to all,

Sherry

How to fix an A/C unit with simple household items....

So, there was a giant wet spot on the bedroom carpet the other day, directly under where Franz's clothes were. We thought Buddy decided to take a whiz on Franz's clothes. He got punished for that.

I dried up the area, and then the next day it was there again. Uh oh, I realized, Buddy didn't do this. I punished him for nothing. Poor dog.

So, where was it coming from? We finally figured out it was the condenser in the A/C unit that was overflowing and not draining the way it should. But, what to do? I tried to clean it out with a toothbrush. Which was disgusting. But, it still didn't drain.

I called the property management company for the condos, who were- of course- no help. "Blah, blah, blah rules and regulations that prove we take your money for nothing, blah, blah, blah."

I called Franz's contractor friend, Mark. He suggested a good A/C man, and I called and left a message for him. Franz remembered that his brother, Pete, was coming over for dinner that night. So, we thought we would ask him what he thought when he got there. It was a good thing we did.

He took the thing apart and decided that he was pretty sure he could fix it. He used my toolbox to remove a clear hose, which we were able to determine wasn't the problem and then we saw first hand exactly how much water wasn't draining from the copper half of the pipe.... it was enough to fill up half a Slurpee cup. So, we all brainstormed about how we could run the pipe to clear out the debris that was in there.

Pete came up with the idea of using coaxial cable to run the pipe, which was tough, but still flexible enough to make the 90 degree turn in the middle. There was another problem, though. The last section of pipe was open on the top, then there was a hole about an inch down from that opening where the clogged pipe met up with it at a 90 degree angle, and then it drained directly down from there. The problem was, if we ran the clogged section of pipe out, the gook from that section would just come out that hole and go down the last section of pipe that was open on the top. Then we would not be able to clear that part. We needed something to block that last section from below the hole.

I came up with the idea of using a tampon.

Both men looked at me like I had just suggested shoving a baby with two heads down the pipe. To Franz's credit, however, at least he was smiling at me as he was looking at me like I was crazy.

"Yeah," I said, "It will swell up when the water from the clog hits it, and then the gook won't be able to go down that pipe. Plus, then you can just use the strings to pull the tampon, with the gook on top of it, out."

They looked at each other, then they looked at me. "Do you have a tampon?", they asked... each obviously hoping the answer was "no".

"Yep." I said. I went to go get one. I could hear them laughing nervously to themselves in the bedroom. "Well, she's going to have to put it down there... it's not like *I* know how to use one of those things!!", one of them said.

So, now I am thinking to myself... I never use these damn things. I keep them around until I have to go swimming. I am not even sure I remember how to use them. Luckily, it's like riding a bike, you just remember. So, the men stood back while I contended with the scary piece of cotton and string. I used the "comfortable" plastic applicator to put the cotton in place, then used painter's tape to tape the strings to the outside of the copper pipe so it wouldn't move too far down the pipe when they cleared the gook out of the other one.

Franz used a coffe cup to pour some water on the tampon so it would swell up before they tried to run the pipe.... just in case.

Pete moved in with the coaxial cable and ran the gook out of the pipe. There was a chorus of "Ewww"s and "Ick"s. And then Pete saw what the problem was. Someone else had tried to clear out the pipe before. And the cap from whatever household item they had, like us, used had come off in the pipe. Add to that the extra dust and other gook, and it was much easier to clog the pipe.

Then we started trying to remove the tampon. It was stuck. "How hard can I pull this thing?" one of them asked. I replied, "Should be pretty hard... the string is sewn into the cotton throughout the length of the tampon."

That stopped both of them short, looking at me like, "How the hell do you know that?"

I explained, "They do it that way so no part of the tampon can be left inside the woman... so she doesn't get Toxic Shock Syndrome and die."

Both men looked at me like they were thinking the following, "Oh... I see." (brief pause) "Ewww... gross."

So, whoever had the strings pulled like hell and it finally came out. This was followed by an exclamation, "How big do these things GET?!?!" Of course, it had swollen up quite a bit with all the water. I decided not to answer that one.

So, we cleaned up all of our "tools", threw away everything that wasn't needed, and went to dinner.

And when we came back, the A/C was leak free and working perfectly.

That's all for now.


Love to all,

Sherry

Prodigal blogger returns... news at 11.

Hi everybody!

Sorry I have been gone for so long, but I have had this killer cold. It is going away now, slowly but surely. I tried something new this time, visualization. Each day I took a few minutes to mentally tell the cold that it was going away, that my white blood cells- while being somewhat lazy creatures- were still kicking its ass, and that it didn't stand a chance, so it may as well just leave.

Okay, not really... I only thought of that yesterday. But it sounds like it could work on some metaphysical plane. If you don't believe me, check out a movie called "What the *^&%! Do We Know?" That sounds like something those folks would believe in.

Anyway, where did we leave off? Oh yeah, Quebec City. Geez, that was a long time ago.

Okay, so we got there. Our bus pulled up to this huge building that looked like a gigantic church, or possibly a smallish castle... turns out it was the bus depot!!! A building that beautiful was just the bus station!! That's how you know that Quebec City is going to be something special.

We took a cab to our hotel. The funny thing was the cab had *exactly* the same sticker to explain rates in it as the cabs in Montreal did... it is like the government made all of them the same or something. Of course, all of it was in French, but it had the same pictures, wording, etc. I thought that was kind of neat... keeps people from having to guess or get gouged.

The hotel was a Hilton. The best one of the whole trip. It was, of course, beautiful on the inside. From the outside, the rest of Quebec City made it look like a giant box. A very tall box, but a box, nonetheless. They had a restaurant that was situated sort of strangely in the lobby. It was this giant open air affair... sort of like a large cafe plunked down in the lobby. The day we got there they were having an Italian buffet. The whole lobby smelled like garlic. I immediately got hungry. We took our things up to the room, and then set out to find a pharmacy (as I was running out of feminine supplies) and a restaurant. I didn't have the heart to tell Franz that I would have been just as happy eating at the hotel in the restaurant because of how wonderful it smelled. That's not what a trip to another country is about, after all. You are supposed to try out the local food.

So, we walked down this amazing, quaint little street. There was a restaurant called "The Hobbit".... I think it was "Le Hobbit". And it did look like a little cute cave... like something a hobbit would live in.

We found the Pharmacy, and I got what I needed. The interesting thing about Canada is that while the packaging might look almost exactly the same as for something you would get in the US, once you get it home, it might be something completely different. In my case, the pads that I got had a dry gel lock core (or some such nonsense) that was green straight down the middle of the pad. I thought, "Okay, a new innovation, maybe something not seen in the states, yet. Cool." Oh, how I would regret those words later. More on that in a bit.

We found this absolutely awesome restaurant called "La Pizzetta". I think it means the Little Pizza. It was so cool! The decor on the inside was very colorful, in deep jewel tones of red, blue, green and gold. There were thick draperies covering parts of the windows, and some of the walls. There were these beautiful hand painted murals, and scary Carnivale masks on the walls. And there was glass art all over the place... and a lot of it was cobalt blue. Imagine a Harlequin clown exploded.. that was the interior of this restaurant. The service was friendly, and pretty fast. And the food!! The food was fantastic. The pizza made my personal Top 10... it was simple, with this cracker thin crust that was so crunchy! The tomato sauce tasted like they had just picked to tomoatoes that day, and the cheese was wonderful. Just the right blending of fresh ingredients and a stone oven... perfect. I loved that restaurant.

We finished eating and went back to the hotel. I can't remember what we did so much that night... I know I was sleepy and still in a signifigant amount of pain, though. So, I can't imagine that we went anywhere else. I think we just watched T.V. at the hotel.

The next day we set out to explore. We walked all over Quebec City. It was absolutely beautiful. The older part of the city is filled with small little shops and restaurants, cobblestone streets, all enclosed in the giant old walls of a military fort. There are horsedrawn carriages, flowers everywhere, tons of statues and quite a few tourists. We walked all over the palce. I took a bunch of photos, and as soon as I figure out how to hook up Franz's camera to my computer, I will post some of them here.

Let's see, what else. I know we ate in some wonderful restaurants. We walked on a massive boardwalk that runs the length of the fort that faces the river. We saw cannons that still point out over the water. I saw one cannon that was pointed directly at a Pepsi truck, but it moved before I could snap a photo. There was a reenactment of a battle between the French and the British that weekend, so we saw a lot of people in period costume running around... red coats and tricorner hats abounded. The women were dressed up as well, in their bonnets and petticoats. I was thinking to myself the whole time, "I know your husband is nuts about wanting to come out in this heat and fight a war that doesn't currently exist, but why the hell would you do this to yourself?" But, there they were, whole families dressed up in multiple layers of clothing in the heat and humidity.

I was wilting by about 2 pm. I begged off from Franz, and went back to the hotel to nap. He came back a few hours later, almost as wiped out as I was. We slept for a while, I think. Then we went out to eat again. The nice thing about the Hilton was a lot more of the T.V. channels were in English. So, when we did watch t.v., we could understand it.

The rest of our days in Quebec City were spent much the same way. Every time you would turn a corner, there was a new breathtaking little cobblestone street to explore. We found an amazing bakery, or boulingerie, where we ended up having most of our breakfasts. There was this sassy little French lady there who implored me to speak to her, not Franz when he was translating for me. She was a trip.

The whole place was just jam packed with history, beauty and a simpler way of life. In fact, that was one drawback to the whole thing... after a while, it all ran together. Everything was so beautiful and amazing, sometimes it was hard to tell where you were, and where you had been. When we finally did leave, I didn't want to go.

The last night there, we ate in a Tunisian restaurant. I have to say, it was interesting food. And, with apologies to my Mom, the tenderest chicken I have ever had. Unfortunately for me, when we got back to the hotel, though, I realized that I had been food poisoned. I was up half the night with diarrhea. Which was not fun. Poor Franz, he was worried about me. He went down to the hotel lobby and got me some Tums. Which helped quite a bit, believe it or not.

That illness lasted the rest of our trip. Which sucked, big time. You haven't lived until you have flown cross country with an upset stomach.

I never figured out how it was that the 'Rash That Shall Remain Nameless' started. It could have been the diarrhea. It could have been the different type of pads... some sort of contact dermatitis. It could have been the different kinds of hotel soap. It could have been something from the sheets in any one of the three hotels we stayed in. It could have been walking around in the heat so much. It could have been some combination of all of these things. But I returned from Canada with an upset tummy, a scortching red rash on areas I would rather not discuss and something approaching exhaustion. I was happy to be home, but tired and a little silly all at the same time. The Rash didn't go away for a week and a half.

We picked up Buddy the same day we returned. I missed him too much to take the night off and pick him up the next morning. I was glad we did, though. Because I ended up wanting to kill the people at the kennel. Buddy had a huge gash on his face- okay, it was about the size of a quarter, but still- and he also had a much larger welt on his elbow, a cut on the outside of each of his front paws, a cut on his tummy, a cut on the inside of one of his back legs and some sort of wet, mucousy looking injury down in between the pads of his paw on his left front leg. He was exhausted and limping when we picked him up. Luckily, Franz was there and he talked me in to not killing the owners/workers. I was just tired enough to snap. But, cooler heads- in the form of Franz- prevailed.

We took Buddy home and we all slept. And slept. And slept. I can't even remember what we ate that night. I was so happy to be home and have both my men with me in the condo. I was also a little sad to have left so much beauty in Canada behind. There are subtle differences between Canada and here. Things cost less... and I don't just think it is because of the exchange rate. The carts in the airport that they expect you to pay 2 or 3 bucks for to roll your luggage around here in the states are free in Canada. I guess that they just think that traveling shouldn't be any more difficult than it already is, without gouging you for a cart. People are almost always friendly in both places.... maybe a little more so in Canada, because you realize that those people are trying to meet you more than halfway through language barriers.

Franz is the same wonderful person in both places, though. Which was not a surprise, but was a huge relief. Some people change when you travel, they map out routes that would have had people on the Bataan Death March shaking their heads with recognition. They try to pack too much "fun" into every day. I should know, I used to be one of those people. And when someone gets sick, they get left behind in the relentless pursuit of "fun". Not so with Franz, when I wasn't feeling well, he was grounded, too. He stayed and cared for me. And didn't get mad at me for spoiling his trip. God love him.... he is amazing. Trips like this only reinforce how much so.

So, that was the trip. Sort of an abbreviated, just hitting the highlights version of it. But there will be more when I can post the pics. I am sure that they will jog my memory of things I have forgotten... even this soon after coming home.

Thanks for hanging in and reading about all this stuff. I love you guys!

Sherry

Have you ever had a cold that was so bad....

That you considered cutting your own nose off? Just so you wouldn't have to blow it any more? So you wouldn't have to rub one more tiny little bit of Kleenex against it, no matter how soft, cushion-y and lotion packed it was? No nose means no more Kleenex. No more Kleenex means no more raw nose.

There's a weird sort of circular logic to that, I think. But I'm too damned tired to figure it out.

NyQuil has stopped working for me. It doesn't stop me from coughing, aching, or sneezing so I can sleep. It does however, put the kibosh on sniffling, so at least there is that.

The dog has taken to wanting to go out all the time now. At least every 3 hours, rain or shine, night or day. He also has decided to start staring at invisible things down the street instead of going potty. I am losing all kinds of patience with him... which makes me feel even worse than I already do because it means I am a bad Dog Mom. I am sure that he really thinks he sees something that is important and is probably trying to protect me from it, whatever it is. But, this is the same dog that ferociously attacked a plastic shopping bag blowing down the sidewalk to save my life once, so I am failing to see things as important from his point of view.

I don't really have anything else to say that wouldn't be blatant moaning and groaning about being sick, or complaining about Buddy (who I shouldn't complain about because I love him more than just about anything else in this world- except for Franz and my Mom). And, after all, who really wants to listen to me bitch about these topics? If you can't say something interesting or enlightening, get off your damn soapbox, right?

Right.

Love to all,

Sherry

Sorry I haven't written....

Hi Everybody!

Sorry I haven't written, but I am sick. I came down with this horrible cold and I feel awful. Not much like writing. Seems I can't keep a train of thought much longer than a minute. I hate summer colds. And the virtues of trying to eat with your mouth at the same time as you are trying to breathe with it.... not much fun. I think they should make home IV kits for just this reason. Now all I need to know if how to insert an IV, and I'm all set.

Anyway, when I feel up to a stroll down the Canadian memory lane, I will write more. Until then, please pray for the folks in Florida (some of which are my family) who are dealing with the aftermath of not just one, but two hurricanes tonight. I am sure they could use everyone's prayers right about now.

Love to all,

Sherry

Carrying on....kind of....

Sorry it has taken me so long to post anything... but at least my Mom will be happy to know the reason why. I have spent the last two days reading "The DaVinci Code". What a fantastic book!! Now I know why the waiting list to get it from the library was so long. It is one of those books that you could actually read twice, just so you can go back and catch all the details you might have missed because you just wanted to figure out what the hell was going on. Pretty cool. Maybe I will write more about it later. I'm still processing the awesomeness of it all.

Anyway, this is just a quick note to say that I will write more about the trip to Canada later on today. Those posts take a minimum of an hour, sometimes closer to two and I was on early morning Buddy patrol (I carry my own handy set of keys and a "poopie" bag with me on this perrilous mission). He is back on the steroid medicine, so he wants to go out about every two to three hours. But if it allows his paw to heal, then it will all be worth it. I'm pretty sure. Yeah, yeah, it will all be worth it. :)

Love to all,

Sherry

P.S.- Excerpt from a conversation between myself and Franz-

F: "I don't understand him (Buddy). I don't know why he won't poop when I take him for walks... I drag him around all over out there and he always pees, but he never poops."

S: "I don't know either. Maybe it's because I always tell him when it's okay to go. I let him know when our walk is almost over so if he has to go he knows it's okay. I always say exactly this, "O.K. Bud-Bud, this is the last chance for potties, if you have any more poopies or pee-pees now is the time, okay?" And then he goes. I think if you say the same thing all the time he knows what is going on. So, that's what I say, exactly."

F: "Yeah, but I'm not going to say that. (long pause) You know you are crazy, right?"

S: "Yeah, yeah... it's sick and wrong, blah, blah, blah. (long pause) But it works."

Ah, the joys of dog ownership. :)
Love you all!

Home again, home again...

Jiggity jig. How is everyone? Well, in case you haven't got it figured out from the title, we are back in the good old US of A. As it turns out, we were running out of both time and money, and I wasn't able to get back online while in Canada. But, fun was had and I am here to tell you all about it.

Where did we leave off? Oh yeah....

The Hydrofoil People Bite the Big One

There's not much more to this story, but I just wanted to put that up in bold letters one more time.

The only good thing that they did was give us bus vouchers. So, we took a crazy cab ride to the bus station in the heart of town. Crazy why, you ask? Remember when I said I should have paid more attention to the posters saying when the gay pride parade was going to be? Well, I wasn't kidding. Because as we wound our way to the center of town, our cabbie was becoming increasingly frustrated by all the streets that were blocked of with barriers and police getting ready to set up for the parade the following day. That's right, folks, they started blocking off the streets that the parade would be using the day before it even started. Consequently, what should have been maybe a 5 buck cab ride turned into 10 pretty damn quickly. And the man had to drop us, and our very heavy luggage, off in the middle of an intersection. That's an intersection with traffic, honking horns and similarly pissed off people. Most of whom did not speak our language. It's really hard to yell, "Como se va 'I'm sorry?'" which means "How do you say 'I'm sorry?" at people who are whizzing by you pretty quickly, just inches away from your feet and luggage. So, I just gave up and ran out of the intersection. We were supposed to get a receipt to fax the aforementioned big-one-biters for reimbursement, but given the situation, Franz forgot to ask for one. We barely had enough time to throw money at the cabbie, let alone think about getting a receipt.

In short, the biters made money off the tourists. Fuckers. I hate them.

The Long Walk Home- Well, Kind of...

So, Franz and I started walking for the bus station. If the road to it had not been blocked off, the cabbie could have dropped us right at the front entrance. But, since it was, we had to walk down another narrow alley for a few blocks. I was hot, sweaty, tired and in a significant amount of pain at this point. Franz was hot, sweaty and tired, too. What I haven't mentioned, up until now, is that I was having cramps the size of I-don't-know-what... maybe the Grand Canyon? Okay, I know I need a better metaphor than that. Okay, cramps that came with an amount of pain that could easily fill the Grand Canyon. How about that?
Add to that the fact that I was carrying a pack (through total fault of my own) that was heavy enough to make me fall over if I didn't concentrate on keeping my balance, and I was about ready to drop. Seriously. I was dizzy, my chest hurt, and I seriously thought I might faint.

Curiously, I still did not want Franz to think I was a wimp, so I said nothing.

He went up ahead to get our tickets and I trundled on. I was pretty sure I would die before I got to the bus station anyway, so it didn't really matter.

When I finally got there, Franz was near the front of a very long line, and I was thankful for his strength and endurance. Because if it hadn't been for that, we wouldn't have gotten tickets for the bus that left in only 5 minutes. Which we managed to get on, instead of having to wait another hour for the next one! WOO HOO for Franz and his crazy German strength. God, I love that man.

So, we got onto the bus, and I was so overcome with gratitude for him, tiredness at having schlepted my things so far, heat exhaustion and the aforementioned National Park sized cramps that I just started to cry. I made sure I was sobbing quietly, but I just couldn't stop. I haven't had pain like that, both mental and physical, in a good long while. And it felt good just to let it out. Franz understood when I asked him to move over to another chair so I could have some space. And I cried quietly enough that if anyone noticed, they probably just thought I was leaving a loved one behind. Five minutes later, I felt better- alomst refreshed even- and Franz came back to sit with me for the remainder of the three hour bus trip.

Did I mention I love him?

That's all for now, we will get to Quebec City in the next post.

Love to all,

Sherry

Once more with feeling....

Well, here I am again. Let's see, where did we leave off? Oh yeah, the Biodome.

The Biodome, The Insectarium and The Botanical Gardens

We went to the area of Montreal that was dedicated to the 1979 (I think) Olympics. There was a HUGE stadium, which I had read was plagued with structural problems. So, we skipped that part of the giant complex. Instead, we first went to the Botanical Gardens. It was a very hot and humid day. Franz and I were both losing gallons of water to sweat per day. I don't think we could have drank enough to prevent dehydration. We walked around, hung out in the gift shop to enjoy the A/C for a while, then decided to take the miniature train that circles the gardens. They have a beautiful arboretum, which is not quite as majestic as the forests in Oregon, but nice nonetheless. They have special sections just for lillies and pond plants, medicinal plants, and poisonous plants. We read about the poisonous plants with great interest. It was amazing to both of us that these plants were just right out in the open... you could touch them if you were stupid enough to. Franz remarked, and I think rightly so, that this would never happen in the USA. Because someone would touch one, or even worse, eat one-and then sue the gardens for their own stupidity. The place did put up plexiglass between the poison ivy, poison oak, and the path. But other than that, they just trusted you to mind your own best interests. I thought that was kind of cool.

Incidentally, it was the same with the Metro (subway). They don't have a little announcement that tells you that "The doors are closing." The doors just close and you go like hell to the next station. They trust you to know what the hell is going on and get out of the way accordingly. I liked it. It's nice not to be treated like a child by the "powers that be".

As beautiful and amzing as the botanical gardens were, we were both getting very hot and sweaty. I forgot about humidity. I forgot how much I dislike humidity. So, we changed gears and went to the Insectarium. This is to insects what a planetarium is to planets. They had bugs from all over the world! There are some really HUGE, really beautiful and really industrious bugs on this lovely planet of ours. The venue, however, was VERY crowded. All of the humans jammed into the place reminded me of ants under glass... we were our very own version of an ant farm. Scurrying to and fro, shoving past each other to gain insight about an insect we will no doubt forget in about 5 minutes. It was sort of surreal.

When we finished there, we took a hot, stuffy little tram to the Biodome. This was, far and away, the best part of the trip. This huge building houses 4 distinct biological environments... a rain forest, a Laurentian forest- like a tundra forest, an Arctic polar area, and a river based ecosystem... all under one roof. It was so cool. The rainforest was every bit as hot and humid as outside, but it was amazingly interesting. Franz and I rented the audio headphones that have an automated tour guide program. When you walk into a certain zone in the exhibit, it tells you something new about what you are looking at. Then some of the zones have a little bell sound that plays at the end, indicating you can press a special button on the unit and it will play even further information for you to listen to. The coolest part about the rainforest, besides the strict abundance of life, was the sloth. The taped guide advised places to look for the sloth, which it said would probably be sleeping, but no one could find it. Finally, I found it curled up in the top of a tree. Just as I pointed it out, it moved and everyone else around me got to see it. That may very well have been the only time it moved that day.... and we all got to see it. I was pretty proud of myself. Franz was also VERY good at picking out animals. He found a sleeping lynx that no one else could see... including myself.

We got to see penguins, all kinds of fish, seabirds, all kinds of starfish and anemones... well, you get the idea. In short, it was awesome and I was sad when it was over. I could have easily gone through the whole thing again... it was that cool.

We walked to the Metro and headed back to the hotel for a rest.

A Comedy of Errors- Part Deux

Since this was a Sherry planned day, I found a highly recommended pizza place in our guidebook and figured out how to get to it. We set out that night to try to walk to it. We walked a good distance, though not quite as far as the night before, and came to this place that looked a little run down. It was closed for a holiday/ vacation. For a month. Franz and I just couldn't win.

So, we did what we do best... started wandering around. We walked, well it seemed like for forever. I swear we must have passed through or around at least two or three distinct neighborhoods. I was getting tired. And hungry. And grumpy.

And then it started to rain.

Hard.

Franz was walking in front of me, his glasses getting just as soaked as mine, but seeming to be unbothered by it all. I was getting mad. Why are we walking in the rain? Where the hell are we going? Why are we passing all these restaurants up? When are we going to stop and eat? Just when I was about ready to scream, Franz turned into this building... and, lo and behold, there was the underground mall!! The thing we had heard about, but up until then, been unable to find. It was pretty cool. We wandered around underground for awhile, then hopped on the Metro to go back to the area where I had first updated my blog. We knew there were restaurants there, at least.

And that's about the same time it all went to hell. We got off at the right stop, but exited the building on the wrong side. And spent about the next 45 minutes lost. Did I mention it was raining? Hard? We wandered around for, again it seemed like forever. We stopped and got out our map. We still couldn't figure out where we had gone wrong. How the hell did we end up back in the Village? We were going for the McGill area.

I was losing patience. I was starving. I was soaked. I was standing at an intersection when a truck sped through it and threw a TON of filthy water onto my leg and into my shoe. I was ready to kill someone... and unfortuneately for Franz, he was the closest person to me. God love him, he took my bad attitude in stride, even though he wasn't feeling all that great himself.

Finally, I just told him to pick some place... that I didn't care what it was, I would find something on the menu that I could eat. So, when we finally found the street we were looking for, and it started raining even harder... Franz ducked into the first nice looking place we came to.

An Expensive Oasis

We ended up at this nice Italian place. We were sitting at a table near the front of the place, but it was very smoky there. So, I went and chatted up the owner (A very flirty, older Italian man) and got us moved to a private back room area. Franz and I both had a few cocktails, and calmed down after almost coming to blows over the evening. We had some good food, and commented on the weirdness that is Canadian music. They take little bits and pieces of cultures from everywhere, but mostly America from about 10 years ago. There was lots of Michael Bolton being played on the radio. It was weird.

Then the embarrassing thing happened. There were two violinists playing for various tables in the restaurant. I made the mistake of looking at them. They descended on us like vultures. They swooped in with comments about how beautiful I was, blah blah blah... all kinds of flattery, which while at first seemed charming, was eventually pretty embarrassing. They started playing some romantic violin music, REALLY close to the table... I mean practically on top of us. At the end of it, one of them flashed a five dollar bill at Franz, basically implying "Pay us and we will go away." I felt awful. Why in the world do people put up with this in restaurants? If two big guys came and stood over you in a restaurant until you gave them money to go away, you would call the cops. Why is it any different when they happen to be holding instruments?

Anyway, we ate and got out of there. And I resolved not to look at any live performers anywhere we went ever again.

The Hydrofoil People Bite The Big One

The next day dawned even hotter and more humid than the last. If that is even possible. And, oh yeah, it rained more. A LOT more.

Today we were all set to check out of our hotel, lug our extremely heavy bags (which is mostly my fault, mine weighs more than Franz's) to the Metro, and ride as close as we could get to the docks. We got to the docks, but got hemmed in by some very heavy rain, which we figured we were going to try to wait out. We waited as long as we could, then when we couldn't wait any more, it actually let up. Which was amazing. But then the water on the ground turned to steam as we hiked our way over to the other dock, and by the time we descended the ridiculously long gangplank to get to the hydrofoil, we were both sweating. I was shaking with how tired I was. I had not slept well the night before, and I was feeling VERY sick. I left Franz at the ticket booth, where we had made our reservations a few days before, and lugged our things closer to the boat, under a tent in the hopes that when the next rain storm blew in, our things would stay reasonably dry. Franz seemed gone longer than it would take to pick up 2 tickets, and when I turned around he was motioning to me to come back. I picked up all of our things again, and trudged back to the ticket booth. This was where Franz told me that the boat had been cancelled, that they were giving us bus vouchers and we were supposed to go to the main bus station back in the city!! The woman in the booth was extremely lucky that Franz was between me and her. I wanted to kill someone. We were going to have to lug all of our things back up that gangplank!! In the heat and the steam. And we had both worn long pants and long sleeved shirts because we thought we would get cold on the very fast boat. The one that wasn't coming.

This was where I said, "I hate Montreal." Franz looked sad. I said, "Okay, I don't hate Montreal, but I hate the Hydrofoil people."

In my head I was thinking, "They bite the big one."

Well, my hour at the computer is almost up. I am going to sign off for now, so I can start the story on a lighter note when I pick it back up. Hopefully, I will be able to do that soon. Tonight is our last night in Quebec City, though. I don't know when I will get a chance to write again.

Don't worry, though. I'll find a way.

Love to all,

Sherry

This might not be as long as the last one...

It took me 13 minutes just to read all my email... you wouldn't believe the stuff that piles up in your inbox when you join a web mailing list.... good stuff about jobs that are available, etc. But it takes a long time to weed through everything.

So, let's see... where did we leave off? Ah yes, the last time I blogged. We left the Internet cafe' and wandered around Montreal some more. We found a brewery and Franz had a homemade brew while they were taking the hops out of a big cooker. I liked the way that they smelled. Sort of grainy and wonderful.

Montreal is very easy to get turned around in. Add to that the fact that the days are all melting together, and it makes for a confusing journey. I will try to tell you some of the high points.

We wandered through the "Village" which is the local gay area. There were rainbow flags every where and adds hanging up for a big Gay Pride parade that I should have paid more attention to. More on that later.

A Comedy of Errors

We went back to the hotel and rested, then Franz picked a place to go for dinner. He read about it, figured out on the map how to get there, and cleared it with me when I woke up from a nap. "It's a long walk," he said, "But it looks like it will be worth it." So, away we went. And went and went and went. We walked for a REALLY long time. Through beautiful neighborhoods, and an area that looked a little gang-occupied. Finally we came to this storefront. The disappointment in Franz's face was almost enough to knock you over. It was a TOTAL dump. Worse yet, it was scary looking... as in "the health department is going to shut us down any minute now." I stuck my chin up and said, "Is this it?" He looked at me and said, "Yep." I said, "Well, we better go in." He looked mildly surprised, but I was game to try anything to get that look off his face. We walked in and the man behind the grimy counter told us that they had already shut down the grill for the night. I couldn't tell is Franz was relieved or even sadder. We walked out and he said, "I'm sorry, baby." I just started to laugh. It was really hilarious, if you think about it. Every single time we have set out with a specific place in mind, something has gone wrong. The place is a dump, the place is closed for vacation, no place that we are trying to find has the kind of food we are looking for, etc. It is a comedy of errors. Eventually we were both standing there on the sidewalk just giggling uncontrollably. "How is it," I said, "That in a city with more restaurants per capita than anyplace else in the world, except New York, we can't find a place to eat?"

So we walked some more. And we found another place from the guide book called "Schwartz's". This is supposed to be the best place in the city to try that famous Canadian delicacy, smoked meat. Okay. People fly here from New York just for lunch... supposedly. It was good, but it (to me anyways) was just a little crowded deli. Nothing to sneeze at. I think if you are going to fly there for lunch, it is more just because you can, and not because of the food. Franz agreed.

C is for "hot", F is for "cold"

The sinks here are labeled C and F. I didn't notice this until I scalded my left hand in a bathroom at a restaurant. It's amazing what you take for granted. Not much of a story here, just a little pain.

Huge gelattos and street fairs

We stopped at a gelatto place (Italian ice cream) and Franz got us two huge portions. I could not believe the size of the things we got. And that was the size that they came in. So, we ate our ice cream for the next thrity minutes or so. We watched some street performers, who were dancing around fire and juggling, etc. Then managed to find our very tired way back to the hotel.

The Biodome, The Insectarium and the Botanical Gardens

So, today was a Sherry planned day. Which will have to wait until later to talk about. This keyboard is giving me fits... it is en Francais... which means everytime I hit the apostrophe, it gives me this... è. I will write more later.

Love to all,

Sherry