heatwave

yo! i am writing from my friend's office in bucharest, also it's my birthday. i am waiting for another long train ride. as far from montreal as i've ever been, which of course is one of the most appropriate state of facts, and of mind, to post disconnected summery montreal pictures.
what is my life!?
i don't know what it is, but i feel like a lot of pieces are in place. so that's good. now i'm looking at these pics from the distance of jetlag and a good fancy bucharest coffee and ...there's a cleaning lady cleaning the office right now and all i can think of is, her products smell better than mine. things are so surreal sometimes, honestly.
more:

the heatwave proper (of last weekend) couldn't have lasted more than 4 days in a row at 32-33C. but it felt heavy, stretched out, and - living through a heatwave alone is a very bad vibe thing. (i forget if i'd come to this conclusion before.) mostly because you can't even breathe at night. like, it does not abate. you walk through the air and don't feel the motion. that always just makes me go bananas. otherwise...night walks are very fragrant, because lindens. and jasmines. visually, too, yes: a tree at night is a beautiful thing.

mandatory new summer sandals. as lannistery as possible without actually painting house colors on. i am obviously trying to get proper suntan marks on my feet.

heat is well treated with hot drinks and sweets. at "vasconia", with roscon and pan de yucca

my spanish conversation class actually had a bed in it! i say "had" because conversation class is over :(, but hey the bed is still there.

honestly this is one of the few pics i took at the jazz festival that can even attempt to begin capturing the vibe of those days. otherwise it would be just crowds, sweat, you know. expensive drinks and icecream. the unphotographability of music is frustrating.

sometimes you just want to be a kid and be allowed to step into a fountain with all your clothes on. sometimes it gets so hot you don't care and you do step into the fountain with your clothes on. and then you get sort-of-dry in 5 minutes, although still with a sheen of sweat. or, you don't dare step into the fountain because you have somewhere else to go after and you wander what stories your runny-colored-skirt would tell about you. and then you regret it. skirts should have stories.

ok, this is a kitschy one but why resist.

catsitting in a heatwave: the worst. i felt bad for every hour i left the cat in the non-air-conditioned house with no fan, not to mention when i was in and could see the apathetic suffering cat. i don't have a closed balcony so leaving her out was not really feasible. gosh do i need to buy a fan.

i've been asked how i felt about the soccer world cup. well i love to complain about it, ever since brasil fans woke me up with drums one day (did i mention it? i feel i did). but it is funny. there are screens and watching lounges in any mall. every bar is taken over and, as you can see, at special game time streets are taken over. people walking around in t-shirts. people dancing around in feathers. i don't think i support brazil, just because it feels too fake that they should win, but then hey what do i know. i know nothing.

someone actually lives here. sometimes just looking around at the normal montreal landscape feels so absurd, like, this is how people live? you wake up and have coffee...here? in this? in this sort of life? (parenthesis: what i want my life to look like when i'm 65 looks so much clearer now than what i want it to look like in 2 years. why.)

C is from concordia. and since now apparently i'm a concordia student...(obviously not used to it yet, but ok.)

on my street, jarry; next to my grocery shop; this lovely wish in portuguese which i shoot back to you today on my birthday

this is montreal. so far away now.

you think an actual post on jetlag would be interesting? just asking.
or like, jetlag in a heatwave. blah.