Bonjour, Montreal

Tomorrow, at 7:15 a.m., I board an Air Canada plane to Montreal. A couple hours later, my boyfriend will also board a plane from London, to meet me in Montreal. We haven’t seen each other since mid-October. I miss him a lot, more than any words I can write here now. This is a much needed trip for both us, not only because we miss each other terribly, but because we both really feel the need to just get away from it all. Life is changing, on more ways than one. Or, life has been the same for too long and we’re fed up of it either way.

I’ve heard such great things about Montreal. The Paris away from Paris, they call it. It was not only named the 10th cleanest city in the world by Forbes Magazine in 2007, but was recently ranked 16th in a list of the world’s most livable cities in the 2008 edition of Monocle Magazine. While I was doing some research, I found out that Montreal is a sister city to Yerevan, and that made me smile a bit. Apparently, Montreal has a large Armenian community, about 25,000, so that’s really exciting. There are a number of Armenian schools and churches. It would be nice meeting some Armenians away from the confines of Glendale. Most of them live in Laval, a suburb of Montreal. I have also found a couple Armenian restaurants there, the most significant and blatantly Armenian of them being Massis Restaurant, located in Laval.

The Montreal Jazz Festival will also be taking place while we’re there! I am so ready to get away.

I’ve had a series of horrible events take place in the last 2 weeks where I’ve cried many tears and sulked numerous times. For the past few months I’ve been going to the gym in hopes of getting in shape for the summer. For the amount of hard work I’ve put in, I accepted to see some difference, but that difference barely came. Which makes me think there is an underlying medical condition to this unfair curse. On top of that, a position I was vying for at work was yanked from under me and although I didn’t feel the sting then, this week it has definitely sunk in. But wait, there’s more. For the first time in probably a handful of years, I received a hair cut that really truly ruined my life. I spent the entire weekend crying. That should be enough information for you. I went to the Bokaos Aveda Salon at the new Americana shopping complex in Glendale. For a $100, the stylist, Angelica, gave me a hair cut fit for a Japanese doll. Don’t worry, I got my money refunded to me. Take that, Bokaos Aveda. It was just horrible. Then on the same night, a woman by the name of Diana Ljungaeus ruined my life with her snotty and holier than thou attitude at the SoCal Journalism Awards Gala, an event which I was sent to cover as press.

Work has been unbearable this entire week as well. If there was ever a time I needed to just clear my head, it’s now. I know I’m complaining and I wish so many things were different in my life, but really, I am so lucky to have such amazing family and friends that not only help me out, but most importantly make me laugh.

I always say, that the best things in life are the ones you have to work the hardest for, and I have. I’ve worked hard. I’ve worked hard for the things I love and in the end, the rewards are amazing. Sometimes though, I wish things weren’t so hard. Just the simple things. Like feeling good about myself, for starters. I’m 23-years-old, and there are a lot of times when I don’t feel comfortable in my skin at all. There are times when I hate myself, there are other times when I love myself, but most of the time, I’m never satisfied. And this is a horrible feeling to have, because it not only starts to eat away at you, but it affects other aspects of your life.

My hair will grow back, I got my revenge at Ljungaeus by writing an editorial and I got my $100 back.

But I digress. Back to Montreal. So I’m going to Montreal tomorrow. I’m going to Montreal with the love of my life. And I’m happy. And at this point, I’m going to let everything that’s bothering me disappear, because we both deserve to have a good time, dammit. I will be back, with photos and stories to share.

Photo of Montreal Museum of Fine Arts (or Hearts!) by appaloosa via Flickr