I am in Montreal!

Sitting in a place on St-Denis called Mr. Cajun, because the jazz bar just down that I had wanted to go to was all full. Seemed divine, but was full. Oh well—this place smells pretty great. No complaints. Writing this while waiting for shrimp and chicken on rice and a ginger ale.

I did not sleep well, but that’s my fault (I stayed up ticketing with the website and then playing Zelda), and I slept enough (if you can call five hours enough). Flight was good: watched the Barbie movie and read another few chapters on the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. Did not fall asleep, which shocked me. Had a nice conversation with the woman next to me, who was on her way to Halifax for a birthday and appreciated that I was watching Barbie. She recommended I watch Gerwig’s Little Women—and, since I liked Barbie quite a bit and I’ve otherwise heard good things, I’ll get it from RJ when I get back.

Got my bag. Smooth Uber ride from airport. I accidentally copied down the wrong address, so was dropped off at a parking lot outside a Pharmaprix. This was sorted, and I went with my luggage two blocks up to the actual location at the corner of Rachel and St-Laurent, overtop Petati Peteta and Big in Japan Bar, and looking out over the setting of one of my short stories. Floating: the bar who appeared and disappeared. I feel these ghosts of myself whenever I’m in this city.

I’ll wander up towards Avenue-du-Mont-Royal later to see if I can find a spot to get a couple drinks. One of those places I used to wander past and think about going in. I am under slept, but I’m slept enough. I want to breathe this place in as much as I can while I’m here.