Tuesday, November 23, 2010

::It's name was Montreal::

I had an itch, and it's name was Montreal. The girls and I used to go once a year, simply as a chance to be all-out girly. As babies began to arrive, this trip became less and less frequent until it ceased altogether. Now, of course, my baby-having years are newly behind me. And the itch returned.

A very small gaggle of three: Tara, Kate and I. We set out in the wee hours of the morn, with me, strategically opting to sit in the back seat. I definitely passed out for a bit. We parked at the mall and hit the pavement, making our very first official stop Starbucks. The timing was perfect, as it began to hail upon the world outside. The coffee boy sighed, and uttered in a very french way; "I guess it will make everyting clean for de parad."

Yes, the parade. . . Partly, this gave us all a festive boost. Partly, it made us all very peeved, as we had to squeeze our way throw the mob just to get to the next store. Kate was actually squeezed right on out of our vision. Tara and I had to perch under an awning and wait for her to be squeezed into sight.

I like the way we shop, as a threesome. We, generally, followed one another around making comments about the prettiness of this or the ickiness of that. Kate's hat, {below}, falls under the category of "very Canadian." We modeled clothing for one another. I had high hopes of finding some outrageous outfits to do a photo shoot with. It turns out that the most hideous, and picture-worthy, clothing came with $4000 price tags, and were anchored to the racks with padlocks. So true what they say; "money doesn't buy good taste."

As we neared the end of our shopping sojourn, I spotted a lamp that made me want "to jump inside of it and live there." My sneaky sister managed to purchase it while I was elsewhere and present it to me later with a; "Thank you for letting me live with you!"

There were antics. How could there not be with a combination of sister-ness, deep fatigue and an exhilarating sense of emancipation? This tree was such a likely canvas upon which to make ourselves look very silly. And that we did!

The day began and ended with coffee, as all good days are want to do. We had hoped to catch a chick-flick before heading home, but found there was nothing appealing on the big screen. So we grabbed a slice of cake at a sadly altered Calories, {our favourite desert joint}, and headed back home. I grabbed the backseat again but didn't sleep a wink. We had too much to chat about, as sisters do. My itch was most satisfyingly scratched.