despite the bitter

It officially descended to temperatures here that my body has never known. The low on Friday night was a chilly -24, and the high temperature - to clarify for emphasis, the WARMEST it got that day - was -9. Fahrenheit. Without wind chill, which has the nasty habit of lowering temps by another 10 or 20 degrees in these parts. It was so cold that the (gross) condensation on the scarf that covered my mouth and nose immediately turned itself into ice crystals that kept catching on my face. It was so cold that the moisture lining my nasal mucosa started freezing so that my nostrils kept sticking together. It was so cold that the tears that were forced out of my eyes in response to the biting arctic wind froze on my eyelashes. It was so cold that my mom saw someone on tv, in the same region as me, toss boiling water from a cup into the air which landed in ice crystals. She told me because she thought it would be a fun trick for me to try. And she instructed me that it had to be boiling water, because otherwise "it wouldn't work." Texan moms are cute sometimes.

Even in the face of extreme temperatures, through which I trudged several times for fresh baked bread (uuuugghhh I will miss the smells and fresh deliciousness of this neighborhood) and groceries (after just removing my hat and gloves and icicle tears: "We don't have any ricotta cheese?! Goddamnit!!"), it was a productive and all-around excellent weekend. I made lasagna. I did some laundry. I relaxed and drank coffee while watching ridiculously entertaining videos. I went out for sushi. I hung out with new friends, who have a talking parrot (oh my god a bashful, giggling parrot who talks in French and loves Marvin Gaye is the most wonderful thing ever holy shit I love her dslrjtb;aewo). I played a great game of line-draw-line, bilingual version (even more hilarious!). I returned to the awesome neighborhood bar that I want to step inside every time I pass - maybe because it looks warm and cozy and always hosts a good crowd, maybe because it's called "Sacrilege" and is located right across from a church. I spoke a lot of French. I tried a new cheese. I played in the snow. I caught three different excellent local live music shows. Plus! Let's not forget that a new US president has finally been inaugurated. That alone would make any American fish-outta-water content with the state of their world.

So in conclusion, Quebec, your foreign language and temperatures don't scare me anymore. I give the weekend a resounding two thumbs up.