Circus acrobat does a handstand on a trashcan in the old port while a student at the Ecole Nationale de Cirque de Montreal

High School Redux

The first weekend after a full week of classes was a lot of fun, and has pretty much been defined by The Tumbler, The Clown, and finger and leg pain. 

We kicked it off on Saturday with a trip downtown to try and find dance pants.  No luck.  We did however have a lot of fun downtown with ridiculous shenanigans.   I did handstands on a window ledge, we kept challenging each other with increasingly impossible hat tricks until The Tumbler eventually tried for a particularly challenging catch and fell off a ledge. 

A sports store that we wanted to get in to closed just as we got there.  We did some clowning outside of the glass, pressing our faces up against the glass.  Pleading.  Begging.  Being disappointed.  Taking off our shirts.  The Clown talked about possibly taking me to Europe with him this summer to do street shows together.  We also met McGill freshmen out doing a scavenger hunt thing and who were not expecting to meet three circus students that day. 

We hung out a Place De Arts doing stuff on the side of a water pool there, but we were told first by a guard that we could not stand on the side of the pool.  Then that we could not have glass bottles.  Then, that we could not tumble there.  It was funny because The Tumbler was the only one who could speak French. 

We then made dinner at their house and invited The Funambulist, The Aerialist, and The Frenchman.  We had a good time, and I discovered the womanizer side of the guys in our gang and also that casual racism is something I’ll have to deal with here, as well.  I did handstands again.  We compared nicknames that we had all given each other in the first week.  I am “monkey.”  The Aerialist is “mamie,” The Frenchman is “quasi,” and The Tumbler is “tumbli.”  The Funambulist seems cool. 

The Metro had stopped when I wanted to go home.  The Clown told us about all the work he has already done – not without some pride, but certainly deserved.  The Aerialist and The Frenchman walked partway home with me, but it was an hour and a half home.  I got in at 3:30AM.  I got to know The Aerialist better.  It was fun getting to see her open up and be a little looser than normal.  She has a hard belly! 

When I got home my leg was killing me. 

Sunday, We tried shopping again and I got lots of underwear.  My leg hurt too much then, and so did my fingers, so I went home. The Clown and The Tumbler Joined me to watch Dralion, and then I napped until we made an ill-fated trip to listen to some Cuban music.  When we got there, it had stopped, though, and some guys from the school suggested we go to a bar.  At this point, I was thinking of taking the Metro home since I wanted to rest my leg, but figured that a little walk might be good for it.  A good thing too!  While we were at the bar, some sort of explosion happened in the Metro.  I looked out the window at all the police cars, ambulances, and bullhorns; people were panicked and running out of the metro station.  The Clown and The Tumbler had to take the bus home. 

Today I have just been cleaning and relaxing.  I did laundry for the first time in Montreal. I think I will try to save money by drying my clothes on the line.  It takes a day or two, though.  Still, that’s three dollars fifty saved. 

I think I have almost entirely moved in.  This means that most of my settling-in expenses are taken care of. 

The Contortionist has moved in to her place, but I suspect that she will now be even closer to her German friends, and as such will not be as interested in hanging out with the first-year crew.  We will see tomorrow, though.  Night, people.

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