Mom vs. Blog

So this blog sort of has two things going on--two things that war. They can kind of be summarized as Mom vs. Blog.

So one of the main reasons I started this up was to share pictures and stories of what I am up to with parents and other people who are concerned with how we are doing here in Montreal. To that end I feel like I want to tell stories of things that I did and then add context within Montreal and all that sort of thing. That part is "Mom."

The part that is "blog" is the bit where I want to treat this as a blog and write about the things that I want to write about because it is my blog. Initially this was going to be a B & me kind of undertaking, but I've got more time to write these days and stuff is really starting to ramp up on the Mass Effect 3 release. I think Twitter has ended up being more of his speed, anyway. The "Me" aspect of the blog is the part where what I really want to do is to write about me, me, me.

So anyway, I think I am going to work on a bit more of a balance between the two M's. More complaining, less tour guide, but overall more writing so hopefully more of both.

So one unifying theme I've found since we moved here (other than things dying) is not one that I expected: blisters. Since we arrived I have been getting horrendous blisters. Heel blisters, top-of-toe blisters, bottom-of-toe blisters, bottom-of-heel blisters, ball-of-foot blisters. Now, I am doing a lot more walking here in Montreal than I used to, but I've found that I have been getting blisters over periods of time and activities comparable to things I did in DC.

For example: today I put on some low-heeled cute dress shoes I got a few years ago and went to a mostly-a-formality interview with HR at Dawson College. I walked a block to the bus, walked a block around the corner, into a building, up some stairs, and arrived. Feet began to hurt. I was like, "Craaap...I have worn these shoes before but now they are giving me a zillion blisters." After the interview I needed to go and talk to the dude who will be my boss and I probably said something awkward because my feet hurt, I don't even know, and I started to SWEAT like nobody's business.

Luckily, across the street is a mall where I hobbled to attempt to find some sandals; the shoe store I went to had apparently gotten rid of all of its sandals for fall and I wasn't going to cram my poor throbbing feets into a boot, so I got some of those foamy flip-flops and just wore them with my suit. I was all sweaty and probably looked like a hot mess at this point, but I couldn't go home because I needed to do some banking stuff with B.

The stupidest part of this is that this isn't the first time I have done this frantic hobbly quest for shoes at this same mall. A few weeks ago I went to meet B for dinner near there and threw on some old comfy ballet flats I hadn't worn since last summer, and promptly had all of the skin abraded off of four of my toes. I hobbled into a Zeller's (it's like a crappy Target) and picked up some black flip-flops which did not match my outfit but also did not cause me to experience excruciating pain.

So I don't know why the hell I keep getting blisters but I wish it would stop. I am not at a weight that exceeds where I was the last time I was wearing those shoes, so it's not like I'm too fat for my old shoes, and the shoes are not particularly worn out, either.

What it means is that wearing close-toed shoes is going to be painful for the next couple of days, right when my parents are coming to visit and I have just started to make progress on an exercise regimen.

All in all, this has been a year of crap-ass stuff and stressful stuff that I have had no control over happening: moved to a new country, dog died, dad died, and ONE ZILLION BLISTERS. There's probably something else in there but I don't feel like thinking of it because there's no call to angry up my blood if I don't have to.

For what it's worth, though, I am sailing through with flying colors. But my feet hurt.

This is like...a whole other country

I will admit that when we moved here, I was primarily prepared for language- and culture-based changes from living in the DC Metro area. A lot of what has surprised me, however, has been things that I took for granted as part of the service you receive when you get a cell phone plan or a bank account.

We searched around with all of the mobile phone carriers and were unable to find either a Canadian or US company that would work without enormous fees on both sides of the border. I haven't figured out a way to have a US number that our friends in the States could call to avoid long-distance charges that would forward to a Canadian number, but we at least have Canadian cell phones now so I can give out a phone number that won't be going away when we move out of temporary housing.

The odd part of all this is that Caller ID (which comes on every phone I've ever seen in the US) costs an extra $8 here. This means that you can't just assume someone can call you so you'll have their number, because if you haven't paid extra, the phone just says "Unknown."

The next thing that was odd was that our bank account didn't come with a check card--you know how you get the thing that looks like a credit card and you can run credit or debit with it, right? Here you just get an Interac card, which works like a debit only you have to pay $1.50 every time you use it, and you can't choose to run it as credit instead of debit, or use it at credit-only businesses.

Heck, we opened a checking account, and now I'm wondering if I need to make sure that we're getting sent actual, physical cheques. I was expecting to find that banking was different because the word is spelled "cheques" here, but instead it's feeling fairly different. I kind of know the rules, but if I take things for granted or assume something, I might get screwed, and nobody will think to warn me!