When I got back from my trip to Ottawa, I had a dinner party to attend at the parent's house of my friend Adrian. In attendance were of course Adrian, his sister Meg, Adrian's cousin, Guillaume and Anna (daughter of a friend of Mr. and Mrs. Davis). An important factoid to remember later is that I had met Anna only once the year before at the Davis'. After dinner, we all decided to hit the town for a night of mirth-making and rejoicement in the brotherhood of man (and womyn). Here are some of my personal favourite moments:

The scene is Mad Hatter's. The tree that is the night still has many fruits on its limbs that we've yet to pluck. Will our tongues taste the sweet sweet juices of joy or the bitterness of danger? As it turned out, a DJ saved our life. With a daring selection, the dulcet tones of "Gangsta's Paradise" rang through the speakers. Our group, now a dozen-strong and a dozen-loud, sang out every last lyric to Coolio's cautionary tale. I hope that those brain cells which carry the memory of that moment will never die.

Moving on to Cheers. The ugly lights have been turned on, and it's time to head out to the coat check. I'm waiting in line with Anna and she decides to discuss baseball with a gentleman sporting a Detroit Tigers ballcap. Unfortunately, he doesn't like baseball and just liked the way the hat sculpted his chiseled profile (or something like that). Anyways... Anna, a rabid baseball fan and a Boston native (probably was redundant there), becomes deeply offended by his dismissal of the sport and she proceeds to rip into the guy calling him a phony and a wannabe. This is of course, hilarious to me for the first three minutes or so. The following ten minutes became overkill and I started to worry about her safety. Luckily, our coats arrived in time to avoid any major confrontation. Unfortunately, there were Yankee hats at McDonald's. No need to mention what happened next. Here's the funny part though, I left to use the washroom outside (i.e. the alley) and when I returned one of the guys was claiming to be Richard Zednik. The thing is that he was a 5'8" guy who probably lives on the West Island, not exactly the mirror image of a 6'1" Slovakian. When I called him on it, he retracted the claim but proceeded to say he was on the Habs farm team. Anna didn't even know who Zednik was anyways, so I don't know for whose sake he was impersonating him. Later that evening (well morning at that point) we were "stuck up" by Montreal's most famous bum Hollywood.

So as we finished our McChickens, I offered to walk Anna back to her apartment. Making our way up an icy Peel street wasn't easy but finally we got to her place. Since it was late, she invited me up to crash. When she was pulling out the blankets and pillow for the couch, I wandered over to one of her wall where she had about 30 photographs posted. A picture of her dad, a couple of some of her friends I assume, one of my friend Adrian and then...a photo of me...from the only night we met previously... on her wall...with all of her closest friends and family. I slept with one eye open that night and high-tailed it early the next morning.

Thus concludes part three of a three-part series about my vacation. I was going to post one about New Year's Eve but Michael Choi has already blogged it and has done a good job. Here are some pics for those who are interested and for those who are at work (check out my pit stains in picture 4).

On December 27th, there was a reunion of the Halifax trio (Jay "Quickie" Kawecki, Steve "Iceman" Tomiuk and myself). Because of Steve and Jay's profound distaste for the Montreal nightlife, we decided to meet up in Ottawa. Also, thanks to my lovely sister Liz -who might actually read this post hence the compliment- we three had a place to crash that night in downtown O-town! Here is a short list of some things I learned during my field trip:

1) Women are persons.... who knew?
2) Toaster ovens can get pretty damn heavy if you're carrying one long enough
3) The people in the LCBO are friendly
4) The people outside the LCBO are not.
5) People in Ottawa have no idea where specific bars are and give very misleading directions
6) The Polish mating call is apparently "Woo-Zah!"
7) Drunk girls are very responsive to the polish mating call
8) Drunk girls will use their attractiveness in order to obtain free drinks
9) It is in every male's DNA to tackle drunk bitches
10) Watching the 40-year-old Virgin with Jay's mom is awkward
11) Watching the 40-year-old Virgin with Jay's dog on your lap can be awkward
12) Unless I take a shower everyday, I get pretty damn gross
13) My sister is a very accomodating hostess

That's actually a pretty good summary of the trip. Remember this is only part deux of an unspecified-long series detailing my Holiday vacation. Stay tuned!

Coming at you a little late, like a belated Birthday gift to one of my siblings, is a new blog posting - Holiday Edition. Unlike the gifts to my siblings however, this post will not include a HMV gift certificate and a sheepish Hallmark card.

My holiday began on the 22nd when I was able to fly home after work (big ups to T-Mac for the lift to the airport). The flight back home was unremarkable other than for two things. One was the complete lack of people in the airport on what I assumed was going to be one of the busiest flying days of the year. The second was that my neighbour on the flight was drunk. Seeing his failed attempts at securing more alcohol during the flight, and a picture in GQ magazine of Vince Vaughn with a monkey, made the short trip home an enjoyable one.

Upon arrival at Pierre-Elliot Trudeau airport, I was able to chit chat with an old Frisbee friend who happened to be taking the same airplane that I had just gotten off back to Halifax. Assuming my adoring family would be there awaiting my glorious arrival, I cut the conversation short and made my way back to the baggage pick-up. Unfortunately, I received a call from home on my cell phone that my mom wouldn't be there to escort me back to the land of my birth and that I must rub shoulders with the hoi polloi and take public transport. There was a good reason though as the kitchen tiles were torn up, a new dishwasher being installed and three small dogs running amok. Basically, the worst parts of the Bible.

The days before Christmas were spent shopping finding the perfect gifts for each of my family members or, failing that, one of sufficient monetary value to appease them. Things at home were a little hectic and I was a little grumpy (but I'll chalk that one up to being jet-lagged from the one-hour time difference). Finally, it was Christmas day and we siblings got to compare just how much our mother really loved us (I'm officially my mom's 3rd least favourite). My haul included many television series on DVD, including the underrated, underwatched and unpossibly good Undeclared. In fact, I enjoyed it so much I decided to try reach for the stars and watch the entire series in one night. I finally gave up around 6 am when my sister awoke to go to work, falling an episode and a half short of my goal. I dared to dream big and live big and have no regrets.

This is part 1 of a depending-on-many-parts-I-decide-to-write part Holiday series. Stay tuned for more of my sometimes exciting but often tedious adventures...