There are those days when you want to throw your hands in the air and just say Fuck it! Yesterday was one of those days.
As I prepared for my “date”, the skies were beautiful and so full of promise…
Why I don’t listen to my gut, is beyond me. Must be that little naive bit of me that I refuse to let die. Or maybe it’s the optimist that once and again shoves the realist out of the way because maybe, just maybe, you’ve got to give it a shot.
Well phooey! Gave it a shot. Wasted my time. Most of that time was spent idling in the insufferable traffic jam that is the island of Montreal. For what? To clean off my car in this sub-zero, digit-stealing, toe-numbing, nostril-freezing friggen blast of arctic cold we are going through this past week. To thaw out in said car, heaters blasting, nose now running, fingers and toes now tingling, to sit through one log-jam to get onto the highway, to pass those who cannot seem to follow the speed-limit, to cross the bridge, then slow to a crawl to get to another highway, only to be redirected, to finally realise this has all been for naught. To decide then and there to say Fuck It and to get off at my first chance. (All this “Fuck It Attitude I am blaming on Grace and Frankie – gotta love this trailer, totally uncensored, by the way.)
To decide that this will not be a total waste of my time as I turn around and make my way to the Montreal Forum Cineplex and park inside where is is snow-free and warm. (Because really? I am NOT gonna putz around looking for parking on the still-uncleaned streets from our latest dump of snow, only to actually find one and then have a snowplow (miraculously) completely box me in so that I now need to shovel to get out, after I have frozen my ass walking from the cinema).
Notre-Dame Street (Shhh… there was no one behind me and I stopped and snapped but still managed to have a blurry pic)
Driving up St. Marc Street, on my way to the Forum, I am struck by a beautiful mural (this is your fault, Resa McConaghy!) and wish I can pull over so I can take a proper picture but this street looks pretty much like the one above, plus I have someone right behind me. Thankfully, I am stopped at a light and can open my window, brave the cold, and snap a quick pic. I will definitely have to return to take some better shots without the bloody parking signs and do Resa proud 😉 I have to admit I’m surprised at just how nice and bright this did turn out.
I walk up to the main level of the forum, re-bundle up so I can then cross the street outside because, why is this the one non-underground connecting section of Montreal? Fucks sake. Or is there one and now I am even more of an eejit for not knowing it? Goddamn! It’s cold. The wind rendering my face instantly numb, I wait inside for the light to turn green, then hurriedly make my way to Roasters, a little BBQ Grill & Bar, because at this point, I’m gonna have me a Rickard’s Red with something decent to eat. I have over half an hour before my movie starts and I am NOT having an A&W or McDonald’s burger after having wasted an hour and half to get here.
I am more than pleasantly surprised by my chicken wrap.
With almost ten minutes to spare, I re-bundled up just to cross the street. I swear, this is not a day to leave your coat open and dash… Upon Merril‘s recommendation, I purchased my ticket for “Cold War”, a beautiful 89-minute black and white escape into another world.
The movie is sent during the cold war in Poland, Wiktor and Irena are driving through Poland, recording various people singing old folk tunes. They then want to create a choral ensemble to tour. During these auditions, Zula appears. Wiktor sees something in her and decides to accept her into the troupe. They fall in love and so begins a most difficult relationship. Can people be too in love with each other? They go from bliss to separation, back together and apart. Between all of these comings and goings is beautiful music and gorgeous cinematography.
I probably shouldn’t share this particular video with you but I really, REALLY wanted to share the whole choir singing “Two Hearts” because it is heart-breakingly beautiful.
Feeling warm and happy that my evening turned around, I got into my car and made my way home. Of course the tunnel leading to the Jacques-Cartier bridge was closed. Sigh. Slowly forced to take an exit which is, of course, very slow going, and once I get up the hill, the bridge is not lit up in green or purple or whatever, as per usual. I fear it might be closed I might be taking the long drive along Notre-Dame to the tunnel to get home but no. Miracles of miracles, it was just a section of the tunnel being worked on which caused the redirect. Through the thick snow I drive, across the bridge, onto properly moving traffic on the highway and back home before 10 pm.
I wash off my face, change into jammies, pour myself a glass of wine and I catch up on my blog readings.
That’s definitely what I call making the best of it.