April 30th on the Train

It is 8:38. The train was supposed to depart 3 minutes ago. It has not. I don’t mind this too much because just like my trip down to New York, I have gotten very lucky with my seating arrangement. The couple beside me just took off their shoes which I noticed before looking over. It feels nice knowing that even though we don’t know each other, they feel comfortable enough around me to let their natural pheromones free. It’s not every day that you get the question of what the feet of the people beside you smell like. 

They look like a typical Montreal quebecois couple, the man sporting a mustache and an arm full of patchwork tattoos. Looking at him you can almost see the beanie that might rest on his head, surely rolled up above his ears. Traveling feels detached from reality, so this Montreal sight grounded me with the reminder of what I was coming back to. 

I have no Wi-Fi, no data, and no phone. Luckily, my April playlist is 12 hours long and I’ve outsourced about ten albums to download. While most of you may see me as a super off the grid person , my lack of phone worries me. What am I supposed to do for this thirteen hour journey if not keep on refreshing instagram just to see the couldn’t load activity banner pop up? How can I cope with the spotty upstate service without checking my email over and over, knowing nothing will load?

Well, these questions are yet to be answered, but I do have lots on my itinerary.

In an effort to look at the positive, I began to think about the gum Georgia bought me sitting in my suitcase. I thought about rooting around trying to find it in hopes it might cover up the foot odor that all these minutes later still finds its way into my nose. There’s two packs of gum, one cinnamon and one bubble gum. 

It’s 2 pm. The scent is mostly gone now. I get whiffs of it every once in a while but it’s like last day of a cold… it reminds me to be grateful for what I have. I am alternating between working on a mixtape and reading a page of my book. It is open in my lap and my feet are falling asleep. 

The man with the feet has left his position in the row diagonal from where I am sitting. His girlfriend wanted to nap using both chairs and the train car is relatively empty. He decided, with this change, to move to the row directly in front of me. Once again, the tangy odor wafts backwards. 

We are approaching the border. He stands up and I can feel him eyeing me. Does he want a pen? If he dares to ask I can only hope he puts his shoes back on before coming any closer. 

He’s gone back to sit beside his girlfriend, and they both keep getting up. He’s in the aisle seat, so when she needs to move he does too. The disturbance in the air sends the scent right back over here. 

The woman’s socks are deceivingly tan, I thought for a second that she took off her socks too leaving her bare feet to rest against the chair in front of her. This deeply unsettled me, and I hoped that the border patrol agents would see it as a threat against the nation, letting them in on the ultimatum that they behaved with decency and covered their sweaty feet back up. 

I think he was listening to Niska. I rustled and rustled through my stuffed bag and eventually came upon some bubblegum. The scent reminded me of last winter and was a welcome distraction from the sour aroma I had come to know. 

Investigating the Tastes of Canadian Corporate Leaders

To all my readers: I imagine it must have been a lonely year with my sparse posting. In an effort to relaunch my blog, I decided I would post the post what for Luca here too. Here it is, and more to come.

After Luca guest posted on my blog, I thought and thought about what to send in return. As an inquisitive person who sees the world in a uniquely deep way, I decided my talents would be best put to use doing some investigative journalism. Where do I have more access than the average person? McGill’s Bronfman building. For those of you who don’t know, I have the lucky opportunity to work on the hospitality staff, cleaning up after leadership seminars for the employees of Canadian corporations.

The shifts during lunchtime hours allow me to see, and more often than not, taste, the food that the upcoming generation of leaders sustains themselves with. You are what you eat, so one of these days I might start to make the transition myself. Who knows? With these insights, you could too.

The leaders of tomorrow do not like raw vegetables. Especially broccoli. And cantaloupe. Platter after platter got sent out, and despite them requesting healthy options they returned to the kitchen mostly untouched. Things are different when hummus is involved. In such a case, carrots fly off the shelves.

This picture disproves the point I just made, I know. It is misleading because of the inclusion of hummus. Please trust me that this is the most that got eaten throughout the week. People get hungry, especially when there’s hummus and a Perrier to wash down their dry, room-temperature veggies! Ask yourself, what would I have to gain by lying?

They love bagels. (Specifically the St. Viateur grocery store bagels). I hate that they love these because sesame seeds get all over the kitchen and classroom and I can never seem to escape them. I am fond of sesame seeds but this tests my limits. I also have some reservations against Montreal bagels, but I will admit it’s mainly because I have been scorned in the past. I am open to changing (even if I doubt it’s possible).

I had the closing shift on Wednesday so I only saw the aftermath of the Mandy’s they had for lunch, but I know they had some sort of salad with chicken. Four of them had food poisoning, and that is what they blamed. Still, it doesn’t feel very leader-like to get food poisoning, so I don’t know how highly I would value this.

They liked this pink goo dessert. (Not too much. Semi-liked). While the fact that I never tried this goo keeps me up at night even weeks later, I can find solace in knowing that my coworkers did. From them, I know that it tasted like strawberries with a texture stranger than jello. I like to imagine the experience of eating it being similar to taking spoonful after spoonful out of a jam jar.

I’m not sure how much they liked these matcha energy balls. Still, I am glad they had them because corporate life can take a toll and it’s important to keep your energy up. I didn’t taste them because I was scared they would have nuts and I still had a few hours in my shift. An allergic reaction would have been a struggle all alone in Bronfman, curiosity satisfied or not. (Lesson 1: never let the leaders of tomorrow see you at your weakest). I did give them a sniff and they smelled like seeds.

They do not like dried apricots. (Overheard on a dried fruit day: “the snacks aren’t snacking”). Who can blame them?

A couple of shifts ago it was the end of the night, I was cleaning up the classroom and one of these future leaders decided to strike up a conversation.  He asked me how long I’d been working there, whether I liked the job, what I was studying etc.

When he asked me where I was from, I tried to keep it vague and short because he was standing in a really inconvenient spot, blocking the path between me and my trusted cart of sprays and keys and important cleaning products. I told him I was from the states, but I guess this was the wrong move because it only prompted further questions. “Which state?” God. How dare he? I wanted to jump off the building. I told him New York and he smiled.

He told me he had visited once before. (You and 30 million people a year. Shocker). His friend’s girlfriend was from Queens and she gave him a map with the most dangerous spots circled in bright red ink. Before I could answer, he smirked and told me slyly that he went to them all. I congratulated him on this, stopping my cleaning to write down my number and commend his bravery. You don’t meet men like that anymore, willing to travel to places such as Williamsburg (one of those dangerous spots he mentioned) just to “check it out” and see if it was “really that bad.”  Hey, N 6th street left of Bedford can be a frightening place. It’s normal to feel lost now that the Urban Outfitters there is permanently closed. What, are you meant to shop at Madewell?

This trait of courage he displayed is one I hope to gain through keeping track of the diets of those attending these leadership seminars. I have not taken very many pictures of their food so this is simply a vignette into their lives, but I promise I will keep putting in the work. If I am the Hoover Dam, these young Canadian powerhouses are the Colorado river, and I will do everything in my power to educate the masses.

Day Intha Life

Luca

May 4th

Day Intha Life

11: My family, aunt, and Paul were downstairs. They had too much energy and i was groggy, so I was pissy, showered, left. (1)

12: I got to AA half an hour late- I’m starting to see new friends when I walk in, and I’ve only been going for a week. Im grateful. I missed Prentice speak, I wish I hadn’t.

1: Meeting is over. They’re so nice and we’re getting food. 

2: Made a friend who knows my old friend. 

3: Was less eventful. Alex was with me and i was drinking another coffee. I was excited to write which is funny because what I want to write was a sad story. I didn’t write it. (2)

4: The same.

5: I got antsy after half doing some work and half joking with Alex and we left to leave each other but got dumplings at sat in the park instead. Chinatown is busy.

6: we sat for a while. Biked the bridge to meet Gabe who I was supposed to thrift with, but he was happy to tell me that he went alone and found a lot. I was happy to because he doesn’t get out alone much.

7: Met Kieran and the three of us waited way too long for the F. He went to Chinatown and I went home for dinner. (3)

8: Dad made a nice soup, a meal missing gluten and dairy because his and my moms old friend has mad allergies. Her name is natashi and she’s an awesome sweet hippie lady.

9: Talked with Natashia about her work and my struggles, she’s getting her phd and I think it’s awesome when adults go back to school. Gonna bike back to the city. (4)

10: I saw my friends, they were low energy and I thought I’d go to this party or a meeting when they went their ways, but while waiting on pizza I decided to go to a bar with Gabe.

11: The bar was real Latino and this Mexican fighter was on so they were Litty, and you know how I fuck w Latinos. Still weird to be around beer, Gabe said his tasted bad and you can guess what my only instinct was. It was lemme try. I didn’t.

12: More bar, good talking, leave to Reggio.

1: I really love Reggio, and me and Gabe are having fun and talking more seriously about creativity and girls. I like that it’s late and I can speak well. We’re cracking up because he keeps fumbling around when he goes to the bathroom because this Gabe’s type goth girl is sitting nearby. 

2: This really drunk and impossibly well spoken 6’2 girl sits with us because her friends are mad at her. I don’t think they really have the right, and she’s awesome. Gabe’s upset because she says bye to me and not him, and was flirting with me a little. He’s the jealous type, but gets over it quick.

3: Train home. We’re having fun, and I know he drank about half what he usually does because I’m always talking about sobriety now. It’s still a lot of beer though, and we’re retelling Justin’s jokes from the last couple days.

 I get home and finish this little project for Violet that I didnt say I was doing for her today.

(2)

For you

I can spread it

Because it’s not for me

And itss far from about me

That I, can give it

A grin, a thought

Is about you

Its barely even of me

(1)

Woke up Bad

Today,

I woke up bad

Snarky, reactive

Nothing happened

Of course it didn’t 

I just woke up

Bad, stressed, defensive 

Now I know it’s me, 

Just me- that I don’t need reason

That this lit in my stomach is,

Some days, it just is

And I spent so long,

So so long without that click

Your pit or cloud, or weight

It doesn’t tell you

(3)

View from over the dock

When I was younger, 

When I would bike home

From a bad day at school,

I don’t remember but probably 

I would look over conover street

To look at the water

The road sloped low

So I couldn’t see the dock,

Or the guy who hangs on it

It was just water

High in the afternoon

Low in the morning,

when I checked my shoulder

And I felt warm

And I felt nice 

And I felt safe

Now I’m taller,

And I can see the dock

But I still remember when I couldn’t

(4)

On the train back out

I’ll be there tomorrow 

To sit and watch her play

And somehow wish I could too

I was home for dinner

She was mad at me

And she’s real strong

So I’ll be there

I want to, too

She’s a special girl

I know I’m her brother

But I’m right, too

She’s strong 

And she’s sweet

and she’s a special girl

I was home for dinner

But now I’m writing,

From the train back out

So she’s mad at me,

But she’s asked if I’d be there

I said yes

She said 

‘I’m still mad at you’

And said I know