Teenagers

Teenaged girls. Somehow I feel like I never accepted or capitalized on my teenage-hood. It wasn't until my years in college that I ever got that generally accepted notion of That Teenaged Experience....or more like the version of adolescence that movies show us. Only now is it that I look back on those teenaged girls whom I adored and secretly knew I would never really turn out like, and wonder what I could of experienced if I had gotten to known them better. There was one girl, Paula, who was my sister's friend.

My sister and I were still fairly okay with hanging out with each other despite our difference in age. And every now and then I'd get to hang out with her and Paula. My sister and Paula were girls scouts together...and I think thats how they met. Paula had wild white curly hair. It stood out everywhere. She was always so pale..pink white. She read Tank Girl comic books, took ritalin, and was into witchcraft. She was an only child who was adopted. The way she dressed herself was unlike anyone I had ever seen...she was like a villain character in one of my many comic books. There just wasn't anyone I knew who was even half as cool as her.

Once, she and my sister dug a cave in the side of a tall sand embankment along the creek. One night they snuck out of their homes to camp out in their cave...so with candles and sleeping bags they slept there. I think I remember the night they snuck out, and how I wished so badly that I could come with them.

Then my sister and Paula went through high school. Of course everything changed, as they often do, and I haven't seen nor heard from her in years. Last I heard she was working as a gunsmith somewhere. Of course she would be a gunsmith.

Pinups and playboys

My friend Alyssa had contacted me a couple weeks ago asking if I would be interested in taking some photos of her for her boyfriend's birthday. When she had asked me, ideas of a 50's style pin-up photo shoot started running through my head. She is really the perfect model for it too...she is like a pint sized Marilyn Monroe! So, I dusted off my lighting rig, rearranged some furniture and busted out some outfits for her to wear. Afterwards it was pizza and wine time....I think everyone went home happy. The rest of the set can be found at my Flickr page ;)

The curse of Halloween as finally been lifted.

For the past five years, I have had a tenuous relationship with the accursed night. But, I love Halloween. I mean, who doesn't really? As a kid, I used to LIVE for that night...preparing for days the haunted house that I would construct in my grandmother's garage. I simply wanted one thing: the scare the living bejeezuz out of all the neighborhood children. Nothing makes me more happy that the terrified shrill of 6 year olds in Ninja Turtle costumes. But, Halloween took a sharp nosedive into pure suckiness once I moved out of my parent's house and away from the limitless supply of tiny babies for me to frighten. In the age of late teen and early twenty-somethings it became about going to huge street parties dressed up as some ironic celebrity and vomiting out the 12 shots of vodka that you received from a "slutty Rainbow Bright" or something of the sort. I would foolishly go along for the ride and curse every second of my decision.

It went on like this for the past five years. Not always some huge party, but always an enormous setup for bone-crushing disappointment. What happened to my beloved holiday? Suddenly it had this huge pressure to become "the best night ever" and had to involve waiting in line...outside...in the cold...in costume that was not suited for the weather... After so much disappointment, I learned to not get excited. In fact, I came to simply dread any plans for Halloween and would prematurely write the night off as a disaster.

But there is a good ending to this story. While all of the odds were against me, I managed to have the best Halloween in a long time. It didn't start off promising though. Matt and I really didn't have an clear plans and around 7:00 it started snowing. But, despite the fact that the weather had turned into bullshit, we met up with some good friends of ours at their little pad downtown, started with a couple of drinks and a crappy Icelandic movie about being stranded on a whaling boat. The company was good and everyone's mood was warm despite what was going on outside. Later we shuffled through the rain and snow to the kookiest little bar. This place seemed like it was MADE for Halloween. It was a little punk rock joint down in the basement of these 100 year old buildings. The moment I walked in, I felt like I was in a movie. There were skeleton boys, black cats and little ghoulies everywhere, two pitchers of Montreal beer and a Cramps cover band that was fronted by a skinny kid in his underwear was playing on stage. Everything just seemed right in a perfectly demented way. I leaned over to my friend, Myra and shouted in her ear, "Best Halloween in a long time! Thank you!".

Matt and I have been married for one year! We had discussed what to do to celebrate our very first anniversary... Our friends had suggested fancy restaurants or booking a weekend in some high falutin' hotel. But most of those ideas just seemed to fall flat for Matt and I. The truth is: we just aren't classy people. High-end stuff just comes off as stuffy and pretentious. So we had decided to drop by our favorite (or rather ONLY) tiki theme restaurant and to attend the annual Magic of Lanterns festival at the botanical gardens. It had been raining most of the day, but the sky cleared up just long enough for us to stroll fancy-free through the magical glowing wonderland. I couldn't of asked for a more perfect night...The air was warm, the rain had stopped, and we practically had the entire garden to ourselves. As we walked hand-in-hand, I felt as if I was glowing as brightly as the colorful lanterns that lit the path under our rhyming footsteps.

Room to grow

Weekend trips outside the city are pretty rare for me. Usually by the time the weekend has arrived, Matt and I are ready to hit the city streets in search of some undiscovered excitement. But this last weekend was a welcome break from the norm: my friend Julie invited us along with her twin sister to spend Labor Day weekend at her parent's home in the country. Or more specifically, to attend the Brome County Fair...with barn animals, cotton candy, carnies and all. There really is nothing more down-home than a county fair...Though, those types of events are geared toward children with little or no fear of being killed on shoddy looking carnival rides or eating questionable looking "food-on-a-stick". So, we spent our time petting horse heads and squealing at the little piggies in the hay. After a thorough day of getting animal residue on our hands, we took the secret dirt road to Julie's childhood home.

Julie's parents own a lovely piece of land surrounded by a beautiful, fern covered forest. Just up the road you could see the hills and mountains in the distance. Picturesque beauty...the kind of setting that you might imagine a fairy tale about a little farm girl or magical pig. Places like that let my imagination roam...I could see my younger self hiding in the woods, building forts and pretending to play with fairies in the ferns. Part of me wanted to be left alone there, free to indulge in the beauty around me. The forest brings me some kind of comfort...just sitting there, listening to the wind blow across the canopy. The air itself seems to have some miraculous healing attribute. I wished that I had my camera to photograph the moment, even though the act would lack any ability to capture what I was feeling.

The evening was spent outside on the back porch with Julie's family, huddled around an open fire. That night Matt roasted a marshmallow on a twig for the very first time. Julie and I nodded with approval as we allowed the city boy to participate in us country folk's holiest of rituals.

Elam-sister-reunion 2010 has already come and passed. Having my sister around for the past ten days has been a welcome comfort in a new life that I am still adjusting to. When we are in eachother's presence, its as if no time has ever passed at all...sure there is the obligitory catching up to do, but we are always tuned into one another's brains like a couple of freaky Siamese twins. Though, I didn't realize how much I had missed her until Matt and I dropped her off at the airport. Time eventually soothes the pain of distance, but the constant "goodbyes" keep pulling at the tender sutures. I'd like it if everyone that I loved didn't live on opposite ends of the continent...but what can be done? The future is painfully opaque, and one never knows where it may lead them next. But, I suppose its all part of the human experience...what would happiness mean if it were never tempered by a sting of sadness? Overwhelming joys and painful lumps of sad emotion in the throat: all beautiful, and all necessary.

Wistful lessons aside, it has been a wonderful summer and it will soon be coming to a lovely close (even though I am trying to pretend that I don't notice the leaves changing). It is hard to believe that I have been here for nearly a year! I've come a VERY long way from when I first arrived, suitcases and cat in-hand. I'm a little older now...I FEEL older now. But not in that whiney "oh I still wish I was 18" kind of way. Adulthood is new territory, and its not all bills and taxes either. Its weird...you never really notice yourself turning into an adult, and then all of the sudden you look around and you're like "wait a minuet, I'm driving myself to the grocery store to pick up stuff to cook for dinner...wasn't I just playing in the sprinklers like 2 seconds ago? OH where has my childhood gone?!" But then you get over it when you realize you no longer have to ask your parents to drop you off at the mall or have to finish any algebra homework.

Well, phase deux of summer guests has already passed. This is the furthest north that either of my parents have ventured, and I'm glad to report that their impressions of Montreal have been surpassed. My mom stayed for about two weeks while my dad only stayed for one. Unfortunately he regretted not booking his stay longer...though, I suppose its better than feeling like you can't wait to leave. I know that by the end of it all, they both came to understand why I gave up my home state for this place. As my parents said themselves "Whats not to like?". Summer in MTL is something to behold, for certain. Although, I have this reoccurring dreams where winter comes suddenly without any warning or transition. Everyone around me just says "Oh well, thats how it goes!" while I'm dying on the inside. Summer, why can't you just hang around forever? Blah, I shouldn't be lamenting summer just yet...we are still in the heart of it!


As wonderful as is to be in my current state, there is one thing that eats at me... Its the fact that I am pretty much suspended from doing anything interesting on my own. My pending residency prevents me from working, attending school, leaving the country to visit friends and relatives, or even driving (the non-driving being the most irritating). I know once I get my precious residency things will finally become accessible. But for now I'm stuck in the no freedom zone. There are worse things, I suppose. It will all eventually come to be and I will be free to complain about other superficial shit.