Friday: 45-minute run. Then some friends come over for chillout and board games. Fun, but feeling stiff and wheezy from the run.

Saturday: Happy Independence day, Norway! Brunch, shopping, walking around the Plateau. Life is good. See Matrix Reloaded in the evening. Life is better.

Sunday: Summer descends upon Montreal. Break out the linen and sandals and hop! I’m a hippie. Picnic with a large tribe of hippie friends. Sunkissed and tired, I return home and play videogames all evening. Start reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

Monday: 50-minute run. Yay, no pain! Picnic à deux with books and cribbage. Try to find ways to slow down time. This weekend should never end.

Friday
Went over to Bill’s for movies and brownies, courtesy of our friendly neighborhood Paul. The mood was light due to her recent employment, and it was a happy, mellow time.

Saturday
Balanced my checkbook, went for a run, then met T for breakfast at our usual place. We then caught the movie Frida, then headed up north. Dined then slept in a noisy, brown motel in St-Sauveur.

Sunday
Went snowboarding for the second time ever, and had a great time. Took out a skier, but he was really nice about it. A lot nicer than I would have been - when I was a skier, I hated the erratic way in which snowboarders wove all over the slopes. Drove home in a storm, and realized that I’m getting sick. Wah. Spent the rest of the day cocooning.

Friday
Had a fun dinner and drinks with Paul, who’s finally made it back from his trip out west. Thought I’d alleviate his homesickness with a porcelain Loch Ness monster I found at Toast’s old place (thanks, Toast and Marmalade). The porcelain Nessie even has a cork on its head so that she can carry scotch. Although Paul didn’t seem all that impressed with my gift, the staff at Brutopia loved it. We were briefly joined by Paul’s roommate and had a great time.

Afterwards I was way too tipsy for swing dancing, so I caught a movie (Québec-Montréal) at the Quartier Latin next to the swing place.

Saturday
Attended a Balboa swing seminar with the great folks at the Swinging Air Force. After dancing all day, I walked home from downtown, which completely finished off my feet. Had good intentions for the evening, but ended up dying on the couch around nine, soaking in a happy soreness.

Sunday
Iris needed to get out and re-enter the country to get papers stamped and complete the process of becoming a landed immigrant. So she and I, Gord and T went to Lake Placid for some walking and shopping. Ate some bad salad in good company on the edge of the beautiful lake, and returned home in the evening. The happy and important process of becoming a landed immigrant seemed to me strangely lacking in ceremony, sort of like witnessing a wedding at the Laval town hall. It involved a lot of waiting around and was concluded by a cursory search of the car. Oh well.

But back in Montreal, we were joined by Dotan and had a lovely celebratory dinner at Ouzeri on St-Denis. Again had fun plans for the evening, and again died, this time of a food coma.