bad sex with via rail

Just got back from a fun & relaxing weekend in Toronto for my sister's 30th birthday (happy birthday sarah!! how's the hangover, sweetie?) A long weekend of cupcakes, drinks, and shopping is not a bad recipe for fun.

On the trip back to Montreal with my good friend Erika, we chatted at high speed for 2 hours, ate cupcakes and then promptly fell asleep. Except that the airbags under the train were under-inflated, so we were jostled up and down for the entire ride. In a jackhammer/roller coaster kind of way. You just wanted it to be over with. Girls, you know what I'm talking about. Even my iron gut got nauseous.

Today Montreal is cold and beautiful. Lots of snow, lots of sun, plenty of cold.
Erika's sister and I dreamed up an Amazing Race-style game for her visit this week -- she is after all getting married in 3 weeks, and if anyone is going to do her justice, it's us. Stag/ette parties are called "enterrement de vie de garcon/fille" in French [lit: burial of boy/girl's life] in French. Snowstorms willing, it looks like we might just get buried this week.

Next up: Pancake Tuesday!