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Tonight's toaster oven cooking adventure: roasted red peppers.

It's like the sky is sprinkling powdered sugar on top of Montreal. It's very festive and all. In other news, I have four final exams in two days starting tomorrow, so I'll be spending all of today studying. My post-exam plans include lots of carefree-ness and fun.

I've been studying for my History of Quebec exam, and it seems that almost every event in Quebec history has something to do with the church. Did you know that in 1921 Quebec had more nuns than any country in the world?

...when I'm in a Lebanese restaurant at 4am and I understand some Gabonese guy tell his friend "Je m'en fou de merde du Maroc, je me torche avec le Maroc!" (I don't give two shits about Morocco, I wipe my ass with Morocco!).

Last night some hallmates and friends had a fondue party, followed by drinking and pool, and of course the enchanting scene above. I will be so sad to leave this place. I know I say that in almost every post, but it's because it's so true.

Had dinner in the Plateau with American and Canadian Killam fellows, biked home through the brisk fog, met a marvelously nice Cameroonian in the elevator. I'm going to miss this place.

My latest plan for after graduation is to move back here and get certified to teach English as a second language. I figure there are lots of jobs teaching in private language schools, and I feel like my native English speaker status is the most valuable skill I have in terms of getting a job. Looking at what I've done with my college years, especially through the eyes of Canadians, where education is much more specialized, I feel like I'm not really qualified for any job, other than being a very educated barista.

My family is visiting. I had expectations of chaos, but wow, they have surpassed my expectations.

Went to a nightclub last night, discovered the amazingness that is Lebanese food at three in the morning, and got hit on in Spanish on the bus home. It strikes me more and more that I would really like to live here.

The many meanings of the mysterious phrase "ça va" continue to unfold. Last night I was talking with a friend and when he asked me for about the fifth time "mais sinon, ça va?" (roughly "but other than that, how's it going?"). I asked him, as I often end up doing, why he was asking me for the fifth time how it was going. I finally got out of him that he was "trying to ask me a question, in an indirect way." He wouldn't tell me what the question was though, so I am still completely in the dark about what he was trying to say.

What I seem to be learning is that ça va can mean whatever the fuck you want it to, depending on the context.

Shwarma poutine.