You’d think I would have learned from the Cape Cod Picture Debacle of 2010 that I can’t rely on Lenore to upload pictures in a timely manner. Or ever. It’s really my fault that this post will not be accompanied by cute pictures of us frolicking in the snow because I should just know better already.
ANYWAYZ, this past weekend (or was it two weekends ago? lulz I seriously suck at blawging) Canada was graced with the presence of my favorite American. Yup yup yup, my cousin Lenore finally made the trek from Boston to the Great White North. And she chose the best weekend ever to come because she got to enjoy the coldest, most frigid three days in Montreal I’ve experienced thus far. This means that she got to partake in some authentic Canadian activities, like when she got so cold she couldn’t feel her toes for three hours or when she slipped and fell on ice on the sidewalk. Oh and she also got to try poutine. So there’s that.
Ho hum, what else? We saw Beauty and the Beast in 3D and I didn’t cry (a lot) so that was weird. It was really cold. Did I say that already? It should be said twice anyway just to emphasize how absolutely mind-numbingly cold it was. And is. We got brunch and went to a bunch of department stores and drank wine and watched Netflix. All in all the standard Meg/Lenore activities. Oh yeah, and we cried when we said goodbye to each other and pretty much everyone at the bus station thought we were lezbos so that was cute.
Alas, Canada wasn’t a big enough adventure for Lenore and she’s headed to Milan in a week for 5+ months. When she comes back she’s gonna be like super European and sophisticated and I’m still gonna be lying in my bed trying to figure out how to make American Netflix work north of the border. If I knew how to say good luck in Italian, I’d insert that here. LUV YOU GURL.
(Aaaaand that’s how you take a normal blog post and turn it into a love letter to your cousin. It’s okay because I’m pretty sure she’s the only one who reads this anyway)