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

Ode to Lin Alg

Today was the last day of Linear Algebra. God knew about what a hard day this would be for those resting under Mikael Pichot’s gentle wings; the sun was hidden and the air thick with humidity. Alienor and I made it onto our usual bus and spent the trip in a haze, both much more silent than usual. I didn’t want to waste our last moments on this treasured commute, but I couldn’t escape the nagging thought at the back of my mind that I would never be taught by Pichot again.

It had been two semesters of our tri-weekly commute to Stewart Bio, and I reminisced about some of the good times we’ve had. The first week of fall semester, I didn’t know Alienor was in Linear Algebra and we were in completely different sections. Part of me wonders if I screwed myself over by transferring classes – our old professor Romain had his strengths (I am sure) but teaching was not one of them. Still, I didn’t mind. My passion for Linear Algebra was soon to begin. In our first midterm, the class was divided by last name. I took it in Leacock 26, Alienor in 132. It was a Thursday and I rolled my eyes at the scent of stale beer emerging from BDA in the basement. Truthfully, I was glad for the smell. BDA is something that I love to get annoyed at, especially during exams. The theme for this week was Halloween, so I was also pleased to judge the costumes while getting a preview for the upcoming Halloweekend.

I took the exam, delusionally confident about everything save the proofs (turns out, the numbers and calculations that I was so sure about were my downfall). The time passed quickly and I was soon out, waiting for Alienor under the shelter of the Arts building entrance. Minutes ticked by and I got increasingly nervous as the stream of people leaving Leacock slowed; she was nowhere to be found. Her phone had died and mine was freaking out from the moisture.

I imagined that it was similar to how people must have felt waiting for their friends in the days before watches. I had no idea how much time had passed. I wondered if she had gone home but I waited anyway. Eventually, through the rain, I saw her emerge. She told me that her exam had a delayed start because someone outside the classroom had a seizure, and I thought back on my days as an epileptic. We discussed the test and walked to the bus.

A couple of months went by and it was time for our final. I have always loved standardized testing, so finals at the fieldhouse are where I shine. I don’t necessarily do well, but the antsy energy feeds me. I like the sound of knees tapping and I like to pass judgments on everyone’s preferred pencils and pens. The recent TA strikes made me nervous that I wouldn’t get my spring fieldhouse exam this term, but luckily Pichot stayed true to his syllabus.

A week or so later, it was winter break and I thought a bit about how the next semester of linear would be. It was a 9:30 class, so I was nervous about whether Alienor and I would take too many liberties when deciding whether to skip.

The semester got off to a bad start. I was back before any of my roommates and struggled to hold myself accountable on this Stewart Bio adventure. Luckily, immediately as they returned, this streak ended and Alienor and I hardly missed a class. I can’t give us too much credit, as Pichot called us like a siren, it was almost impossible to sleep in.

One of the things I love about having a class in Stewart Bio is the social value. Whenever people hear about it they seem pained on my behalf, imagining the trek to reach it. They commend me for making it to class and I bask in the glory. I knew that he would be there every class with his transition lenses, small briefcase and white button-up. He began to feel like a celebrity.

So, naturally, it is not a class I like to skip. Also, it boosted my ego after class was done to arrive at the GIC before the masses, laughing at those who were still sleeping.

Like all good things do, the semester flew by before I knew it. Our days at Stewart Bio were first numbered, and then they were over. I was reckoning with this when my summer course, also in Stewart Bio, got canceled. It was a rough week. Our housing search had just dealt us our second crushing blow, and I was now struck with the knowledge that I would have to take comp sci instead of ordinary differential equations. It was nothing short of heartbreaking.

Day in the Life of a Glowing and Youthful Blogger

I started my day with some Russian Babka from my favorite bakery in Montréal. This was no small feat, as I have been flirting with the idea of buying babka from this specific bakery over a period of months. The first time I went, I was instructed by Alienor to pick her up some of the chocolate thing, Eliza would know what she was talking about. This intrigued me, as I could see a glimmer in her eye as she told me the exact words to say. I spent the whole walk wondering what this “chocolate thing” could possibly be. 

I don’t like to make rash decisions, so I decided to wait to place my order until after I saw what looked good.  I listened closely as Eliza told the people working what she wanted and noted it down. This “chocolate thing” was their babka. I’m not sure if this is based on anything, but babka in my mind has always been associated with nuts, so I abstained. As a child, some of the best days of my life were the days my mom brought cream puffs back from Beard Papa's, so the cream puffs immediately drew my eye. I am always a bit nervous ordering baked good because you never know when nuts are involved, but I made my best judgement calls and ate everything slowly. I walked out with a cream puff and a rugelach, but no babka.

Upon returning home, we began to snack. I looked at the babka with a lustful eye but kept to myself. My cream puff was delicious, and I was satisfied. 

Over the next few weeks, we made many more trips to this bakery. I continued to only look at the babka from afar, keeping my dreams of trying it one day mostly to myself. Soon, I couldn’t take it anymore; I had to know what it tasted like. I looked at Alienor slyly and asked if it seemed nutty to her. She confidently said no. I tried a piece and waited, nothing. 

Here it is. I am sure you can imagine my jealousy.

The experience of eating a little crumb with no allergic reaction filled me with confidence. I smiled to myself, knowing next time I would buy some of my own.

This assumption was wrong, as the next time we went I forgot my wallet and my phone was dead. Yikes!

I made the pledge to buy a treat every Sunday to start the week off on a good note. Yesterday, I racked my brain, trying to figure out what to get this time around. I thought about it, gazing out the window in a way that I am sure made me look extremely mysterious and contemplative. (I like to think it helps the brainstorming process). It suddenly dawned on me. Babka. I rushed to Alienor’s office door and asked if she wanted to come. She did! Soon, Eliza, Alienor and I made our way over and I got my babka. It was just as magical as it looked. Every bite was decadent and heavenly. I felt like the world stopped spinning on its axis and everything was right again. I chuckled to myself, knowing my world in Montreal was forever changed. 

I made sure to get extra so I had some leftovers for breakfast. Both eating our babkas, Alienor and I discussed trying to make the early bus to class. We never are on time to Linear Algebra, but it’s nice to pretend. 

Me this morning with my babka

Of course, we missed it, but in a shocking turn of events, managed to get on the next one. In record time, we trekked across the icy field and arrived at Stewart Bio. Mikael Pichot, the man he is, stood confidently at the front of the class in his trusty white button up and transition lenses. I knew, walking in, that we were only a couple of minutes late because his glasses had not yet adjusted to the indoors. I was right, by the time we settled in he had barely started with the lecture. My iPad was charged, as was Alienor’s (like usual). My Apple Pencil was charged. My nose wasn’t running; things were looking good. Our current unit is linear transformations and I was so wrapped up in surjectivity and injectivity that time sped right on by. I wrote my notes feverishly, contemplating Pichot’s life outside of Math 223, and all of a sudden we were done with class. 

Putting on our jackets before the next class started coming in, we made our way to Burnside. I wondered to myself how many times we had done this walk. We took back our right to the city, jaywalking and stopping at Soupe on our way. I got a piece of bread with pesto, a couple of tomato slices and mozzarella (which of course was 8 dollars). Things were going so well that it didn’t even get to me, and we took the elevator upstairs. We both did more linear algebra and soon it was time for me to make my way to Urban Transportation Geography. Alienor didn’t show it, but I could tell she was nervous for me to leave - the walk to this class is notoriously treacherous (I have to go down two flights of stairs). Eliza had just arrived so it was hard to tear myself away, but I said my goodbyes and began my trip. 

I was pretty excited because last lecture I annotated the slides on my iPad for the first time (as opposed to taking notes on my computer). It was glorious, and I couldn’t wait to do it again. This class, my professor included many slides with pictures of people, allowing me to continue my childhood obsession of using highlighters in note-taking apps to add makeup to people. I went with purple eyeshadow and falsies on a man wearing a bike helmet and blush with a smokey eye on Simon Cowell. 

Class ended, and I went back upstairs. Eliza and Alienor were seated at a booth and they welcomed me back. I pulled my iPad back out, this time to make flashcards. Alienor had inspired me earlier and I was unstoppable. Using my iPad this much made me so gleeful I could no longer focus and I had to return home. I reheated some leftovers and ate them outside, thinking about all the things on the books for this week.

And here we are! I realize that I said day in the life, but it’s only 5PM so my day is nowhere near over. Guess you’ll have to imagine what I do with the rest of it……...

This post is dedicated to Eliza who first brought me to this bakery.