[continued, kinda, from the previous entry]
The problem with taking so long to write about happenings, with so much time between entries: life continues, events accumulate, until the pile of things going on is so big and unruly that attempting to dig into it can seem like so much trouble that a lazy individual can easily opt to blow it all off. Leaving loads of fun and/or interesting hooha undiscussed. (Which may be a blessing in disguise for those who stumble across this page.)
On the other hand, the fact of going so long between entries indicates that there's an active real life happening, packed with things needing attention and soak up time. It's good to have a life.
(Blah blah blah.)
Since pulling out of language classes more than three weeks ago, I've been back and forth between Vermont and Montreal far too many times, with a fast overnight jaunt to Toronto tossed into the mix just 'cause the possibility was offered. Change is good for me, the stimulation of all the fresh input does positive things for my state of being, but I think I'm tossing myself all over map in this case because right now no one place seems to have enough of whatever it would take to make me feel... not sure what the word I want here would be. Full, satisfied, connected to life. But there have been moments of feeling at ease, at peace, sometimes a fine abundance of those moments. They counterbalance the overall sense of being in a transitional time, in transitional places. But I find myself feeling restless, jonesing for somewhere -- a place, a situation, a social network -- that really feels like a fit. And I realize that may in part be a reflection of not feeling quite as comfortable in my own skin as I have in times past.
But I try. I swear I do. And I'll take this way of dealing over some other possibilities I might have resorted to in earlier times. (Drinking, anyone? Watching endless hours of meaningless television, anyone? Eating shitty food, anyone?)
Er, where was I?
Something I've noticed that seems to be rampant here in Montpelier: distracted drivers, cellphones jammed to their ears. (One half-wit nearly hit me as I got midway across State Street in a crosswalk, a cardinal sin here where drivers are almost uniformly deferential to pedestrians. This individual, not paying attention at all to what he was doing, didn't even slow down as he zipped by me, scant inches from my adorable bod. As he passed, the driver's window down, I saw he held a cell in both hands, thumbs busy texting away. And my verbal response quickly morphed from a harmless, 'Hey, whoa!' to a shouted 'STOP TEXTING, YOU JACKASS!' This was midday in front of the post office, pedestrians and cars all around, a whole lot of attention quickly focused on this guy -- I sincerely hope I embarrassed the bejeezis out of him.)
Something I've noticed that seems to be rampant in Montreal: self-talkers. Some of them street people or individuals clearly going through hard times, others appearing normal, well-dressed, high-functioning. Some mumbling, some talking normally, some shouting. In English, in French, even in Spanish and Chinese. Pretty impressive.
Also rampant in Montreal: genuinely lovely women. (Of all ages.)
España, te amo
rws 5:10 PM [+]
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