It's been a crazy whirlwind of events and activites lately, which unfortunately results in the point-form posts. But alas, I must continue the trend for the time being...

- I ended up going to those two house parties on Saturday night, as well as a bar on "the Québec side". The first was rather subdued, which Sarah, Manon and I tried to remedy by bringing up the tunes and dancing our little hearts out, even if we were the only ones energized enough for it. Then we took off to the Quatre Jeudis, where the place was bursting at the seams with fantastically costumed people and very, very loud music. Afterwards, I bid my friends goodnight and headed off solo to the second party. Running towards the apartment building with my purple hair and my metallic pink Dorothy shoes (think "there's no place like home, there's no place like home..."), I arrived at the party breathless and in a good mood. I entered and was greeted by the sound of The Beatles in the background, which I found quite delightful, and was dancing and singing along in no time. But as the fateful carriage turns into a pumpkin at midnight, the night took a sharp turn for the worst. All of a sudden I was being pursued by a man who, it must be noted, I had briefly met at the Heart and Crown pub a few weekends ago. Not the best start for a wishful thinker, you might say (read a few posts below for more insight on my disdain for the H&C). Anyway, he was drunk as a skunk and proceeded to insist in broken French how sexy he thought I was, and that he'd come to the party solely in hopes of seeing me again. Of course, if my life were a cartoon, all my fellow blog readers know that at this point a loud and comical alarm bell would be ringing for everyone to hear. I eventually had to tap him on the head and remind him that - hello - we aren't going out, we won't go out, and I'm not interested. Unbelievable...

On another note, I worked at Chez Lucien and it was absolutely crazy. I can't believe the business that little pub runs sometimes; the tables are constantly full, the bar is a veritable revolving door and people are crammed into corners I didn't think could accomodate customers. I rushed for hours non-stop, took my first big table of about 20 people, served tables and made drinks. I'm learning to make all kinds of drinks, including cosmos, Black Russians (Big Lebowski, anyone?), Polar Bears and Black&Tans... It's nuts. But you know, I still love doing it because it's so different than anything else in my life right now. It's physical work that pushes me to deal directly with many, many people in one night, and it's a real test of my memory. People can tend to get comfortable in office jobs, thinking that the intellectual work they do is the ultimate test for strength of mind. But once you find yourself juggling twenty different things at once while learning new things every other minute, you realize that there's a bit more to it than theoretical knowledge. Oh, and then there's the whole weird world of tips. I'm not used to putting in day's or night's work and walking away with a tangible result in the end. I was almost stunned as I cashed out at the end of the evening and found myself with $185 in paper and coins to bring home. Actually, it's almost embarassing, especially considering the fact that I have a day job and am only doing this for a change of pace. Maybe I still feel like a bit of a fraud too, since I've never waitressed before and feel like I'll be found out any minute now - even though, in all actuality, everyone DOES know and they accepted that from the get-go. Weird. Anyway, the extra pocket change will surely be nice once I get used to it - and that's not even counting the actual wage I make every hour...

And then there was my mid-term last night. I've been pouring over the books and making study notes for the past few weeks, but I was still worried about this one. The class is one of the heftiest I've ever taken, so I was expecting to meet an unforgiving monster at the exam desk. But for better or worse, it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, but it wasn't easy either. It was just plain tricky, sort of like playing a round of dodgeball in junior high; you've played it hundreds of times and you know the game, but you always somehow fear it and spend most of your energy just trying to worm your way out of one bad move and a smack in the face. If you're up to speed and feeling clever, you find ways to dodge the whizzing weapon, but if you get slightly confused, you're toast. So we'll see just how well - or badly - I was able to side-step my way around it.

But you know, I asked for spontaneity and I asked for change. So sometimes when you ask, you shall receive, indeed!