There's a party in my house and it's only 6:30 Wednesday night. Sheesh. Someone's making salad, someone's playing upright bass, someone's waiting for pizza, a few other people are loitering and Willow's sticking close to me.

This past weekend I had two great friends visit me from far away. With one, I did the ultimate Montreal bagel taste test and had a Fairmount bagel, walked a few blocks and had a St Viateur bagel. I'll say that Fairmount had a line out the door, but St Viateur sold individual-sized cream cheeses. Guess which bagel won (in both my and my friend's opinion)?

Then we had drinks at Dieu du Ciel where we monopolized Bruno the bartender: he is 31, is in police school, used to be a chef and spends all his time studying. 

Then we all went to Gibby's in the old port where I dined on shrimp cocktail! lobster tail! veal! wine! cosmopolitans! and had our picture taken by Mona, our waitress.

Then we all went back to the W Hotel which is OVERRATED! I'd never been inside and was excited to see what all the hype was about. While the outside looks like a mental hospital, the inside looks like someone wondered, "How many totally awesome neon light and water installations can I fit in one mental hospital?" and then fit as many awful neon light and water installations in it. 

Then I went home.