“No matter how dry and tame and nice we live, we will die. We will also suffer along the way. Living wild is it’s own reward.” -SARK
Right now, I’m sitting on a ledge in a park between a needle drop off and three gigantic games of chess. I’ve just gotten off of a shuttle bus to downtown Montreal and am now wating further instructions to an acquaintances-boyfriends apartment so that I can crash on his couch tonight (and maybe tomorrow or so). I would have stayed with her but she’s out of town, my other friends here are all: in the middle of a move, getting their carpets ripped out and/or swamped with other house guests. Essentially the best timing.
I’m also needing to find an apartment for myself+roommate+cat in the next few days because no one will confirm a tenant application via the internet, and have orientation at Concordia tomorrow afternoon (I’ve never been to university before!). Whole new world?
On the upside of luck, french boys all have incredible eye brows (according to my hours worth of research) and I’ve been invited to a downtown gallery opening and a friends indie pop show this week. I’m already drooling for the arts scene, & the people watching.
Oh, and I haven’t slept because my flight left at 6 30am and my (darling+so generous) friends and I were up all night packing up my old bedroom till the very last second.
So, thank god for SARK and her ‘live wild’ talk.
Cause, I’m a pretty wild girl but this is the wild-est I’ve ever been.