Things I Learned Today

Rather than pretend my week/weekend was exciting and attempt to write something half-decent, I'll let the pictures do the talking.

Yesterday, Desma, her boyfriend Benoît and his friend Benoît (I know. Either it's a popular name or French people just roll in twin-name crews) and I went to Toulouse to Ikea, volume 2.

It also kind of inadvertently turned out to be a makeshift International Day since we started out with a solid Canadian breakfast, followed by a Swedish lunch and an attempt at a Mexican dinner. The French chocolates didn't disappoint and did us right as well. The festivities ended with a bang thanks to our discovering an authentic Cuban straw hat at Benoît's straight off the streets of Havana.

Enjoy.

Breakfast of Champions



Nothing starts the day off right like a little taste of home...
O Canada.

To all the haters:
ya'll can see that I don't dance for a reason...I'm tall & gangly and it doesn't end well. To those who have been so unfortunate to have seen my mom cut a rug at any a wedding, you understand.

Today I learned that French people are very obedient:
Take a stack of pylons out of your trunk and throw down on a busy road... Cars will merge and voila - instant traffic jam.

Doing my best 4-year-old on Christmas imitation...

Unfortunately, children's furniture - while cute - is best left to the smaller folks out there.
(See mini Benoît on left)

Modern day Goldilocks?

After a nap, I recommend enjoying tea while sitting in chairs that bend your legs at sharper than a 90 degree angle. Curse my giganticness.

Between training, I'm considering moonlighting as a Swede.
Then again, maybe not if I ever make that face again...

I learned our club has sick scarves a la Euro soccer teams...
To all the Canadians - order yours today. Nothing protects against a brutal Canadian winter, or says warmth meets style quite like a polyester blend.

I learned this the hard way:
Though you think you might have found the equivalent of Cheddar, don't be deceived. It's not the same, nor will your taste buds be at the end.

Sadly, an attempt at Mexican food falls pitifully short when the "fajita mix" tastes disturbingly of cat food.
The look on my and Benoît's face are proof enough.

I also learned that French TV sucks sometimes.

French headgear on the other hand....

I'm more inclined to a Cuban piece myself.
Havana Noche? It's the title of the next Bond film I'm working on.