Left Monday morning, had breakfast, drove drove drove until we reached Montreal at about 2:30, had lunch, went to hotel (Holiday Inn Express) dropped off our things, wandered around Chinatown some more. (This is pretty much a good summary of what we do when we go to other places/cities. We ferret out the Chinatown. I sometimes suspect my parents couldn't stand the culture shock of trying something absolutely new even if they wanted to.)
Left Chinatown, walked around the city. There was lots and lots of porn. First thing I see when we get out of the car is a titty bar advertising lap dances which we, incidentally, had parked right beside. My parents are both very prudish. They pretend this isn't happening. However, this becomes infinitely harder to do when every other store window we pass by is either a sex shop, an adult video store, an adult movie theatre, strip clubs... you get the idea. I personally think my dry comment of "Wow, this is clearly an exciting city of porn." made it better. At least it made my mother laugh, which is more admittance to having seen everything than we usually get. ;p
Got car, drove around some more, went up the hill to the church... uh... St. Joseph's, I think it's called? The one with the basilica with the heart of man-whose-name-suddenly-escapes-me. Stupid stupid memory.) Helped mother up/down the stairs. Took this as omen of what would happen the next day when we got to Quebec. Drove around some more, got stuck in traffic (there was a major accident of some sort crossing the bridge, we were stuck for hours.) Went back to Chinatown for dinner. Went back to hotel. Slept. Whoo. Exciting. I know. But hey, Montreal doesn't have much in the way of family-friendly activities in the city proper I don't think. Clubbing/bars so far's I know and. well. legal age aside, they're my parents and even if they'd let me drink with them, I really, really wouldn't. That and Vicki's not old enough, even for Quebec's drinking age.
Next day dawns early, we go zoom. We drive drive drive to Quebec city and get there in the afternoon. We find a parking lot (5 cents per minute holy shit. 'Course the total for us amounted to ~$18 but still! PER MINUTE!) and start walking around the city. Basically we parked right next to the river's edge, which meant climbing pretty much the whole of the hill up Quebec. There was much French-speaking. Steph was thrown by the fact that they speak it so fast. @.@ Wandered around being touristy for a while, eventually stopped midway to have lunch at some apparent French bistro. Which, uh, sounds all nice and fancy but really? the host ushered us in in white running shoes. No. Really, if you're going to play the part of upper-class French host with your uniform and everything, you do not wewar bright white running shoes. You or the waiting staff. 'Course I can't say much. You should've seen my awkwardness with a seafood fork. I managed but my first look at my little mountain of mussels was a total O.O!!!
We eventually walked our way up to the top near the big parliament building... I can't remember what it's called right now though because I am dumb and keep wanting to call it the consulate, when I know it's not. Place of meeting. Whatever. We find the Hilton which is our hotel for the night/next night, check in, and then walk all the way back down to retrieve the car/luggage. After that, we wandered back down into the city on foot, for dinner. We were cheap this time. Went to a little Cafe and all of us ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, just to make up for the ridiculous cost of lunch. ;p $5 meals for everyone, mmhmm! Fine dining at its best. Went home. Slept. (And this all was with a lot more effort than it seems because everywhere in Quebec is either huge numbers of stairs or crazy slanted roads. I didn't mind it so much, wonder of wonders, but my mother didn't seem to take it so well. Nor did the others. 'Twas rather surprising to see me dancing out in front and look back to see everyone else--who weighs a heck of a lot less than me I might add!--struggling along.)
Next day involved more walking. Lots of being touristy, peeking into the souvenir shops which all looked the same/were way more expensive than I was willing to pay for. Wished to get boyfriend a shirt, but I didn't believe the parents would quite approve of my choice/sense of humor. Sad. :( Had lunch at same little Cafe, Dad and sister got same as yesterday, Mom and I tried something different/more expensive. (By more expensive I mean $8 instead of 5. ^_^) Then we rushed down to the river to take a cruise. We nearly took the ferry, but we got there on time! Still cost us like $120 for one 1 1/2 cruise up/down the river. I wouldn't have done it. Turns out it was on the exact same boat as the one we'd gone on on the Quebec trip in 8th grade. Helloooo bad memories of awkward adolescence. Social outcast? Me? What, didn't you know? :3
Went back to hotel. Sister and I napped. Parents eventually went out to explore without us. Came back, took us along at dusk to a new section we hadn't walked through. Lots of cute stores with such pretty pretty clothes (a lot of it in Victorian and Renaissance styles--you know these tourist places, they know most people can't tell the two apart) but holy shit expensive. I'm talking piece-of-felt-shaped-into-semblance-of-a-t
Next day was a long drive home. We got lost twice. But we made it. ^^ I actually had quite a nice time. I could really love Quebec despite the whole speaking-French-thing which I haven't really gotten down. Probably wouldn't do so well living there, but... heh, it's nice. ^_^ Wanted to have the boyfriend around with me 'cause it'd have been nice and I always like having the boyfriend around, but oh well, it was good to be sticking by my sister again. ^_^
That done, the happenings of the life of Steph have not amounted to much. She has stuff that she needs to finish (late, oh god so very late) and paperwork to fill out and grades to plead her case over, and courses to choose. (Yes, yes I know I was supposed to have done that a while ago, it didn't work) Saturday was Moving Day. The boyfriend's awesome and had already helped me move a bunch of my things over to the new place (again I felt very bad for having him loaded down like a pack mule :\).
So the new place is what I've fondly named The Craphole. It's blech and gross. But then, I don't care about these things and thus it was fine by me. It was clearly not fine to the boyfriend for which I feel bad for, but done is done and I suppose it shall stand as a test of character. ^^; When we got to the new place, the door was locked. I note now that I have no keys, not until September 1st. But I had to move out on the 25th and the boyfriend had been able to procure keys/leave doors open for me. Which. Uh. Weren't open. So, I went banging on a window for people to let me in. Which they did. Very nice. Then the suite door was locked. Fail on both counts. :( Then a lady comes home and waddles down the stairs and tries to let us in. And. Uh. Fails. After nearly two minutes, she turns to my father and says "perhaps you should try maybe you'd have more luck with this."
As if opening a door is such a Herculean task. He turned the key. He opened it for her. She complained about way too much stuff in the living room/kitchen. I told her it was my first time bringing stuff into the suite. She complained about there being stuff in the living room/kitchen and that I needed to do something with it. I though "...grrrrr...." Then she continued on to say in the most condescending I'm-speaking-to-a-three-year-old tones, "Are you sure you live here? Because I don't think there's a room left for you because I live in this one and this person lives here and that one lives there and the new boy lives there, so I don't think there's any room for you."
As if I'm such a fucking idiot not to know where I'm going to be living for the next while.
"But yes. So she lives there and he lives there and I live there the new boy's living there and no one's living there, perhaps that's your room?"
"No, actually, Jessica's going to be living there."
"I don't know a Jessica."
"She hasn't moved in yet."
"Oh well, then, I don't think there's a room for you. Because I live here and that boy lives there and Rachel lives here and the new boy lives there. Keith, his name was?"
"...No. His name's Dan."
"Oh. Well are you sure you're living here? Because I live here and that boy lives there and Rachel lives in that room so perhaps you should call Bedia. You know Bedia? The landlady? Just to make sure you're actually living here. Do you need the number? I have the number if you don't have it. Perhaps you should call her and make sure and if you don't live here you can take all these things and go away. :D"
I wanted to punch her in the face. And I do not want to do this often. But. Really. On. My. Nerves. But I can be calm. :3 Mustn't kill the year with cranky neighbors already, I suppose. ^_^;
In other news, I love L'Arc~en~Ciel's MY HEART DRAWS A DREAM. Love it. Lots. I hate, however, Feeling Fine 2007. I think it's a piece of crap, creatively, because it sounds almost EXACTLY LIKE THE ORIGINAL. Taking your bassist and putting him on lead vocals, amping up the beat, and yelling "ONE TWO THREE FOUR!" in the opening does not a new song make. Beh. But I've gone on about that in the discussion section of Pieces already, so enough of that. Better news is that Nelson is back safe and sound and Paul is going off to Hong Kong. Yay! Well. Perhaps not really yay but it's better for all parties involved I think. (Family drama, not going into it ;p) And I've missed Nelson. We're going out to dinner tomorrow, I'll ferret out the specifics of his wellbeing then, I hope. In the meantime, I started this post at 1:11, it's now 2:42 in the morning. I r sleepy. Goodnight!