Sunday is meant to be a day of rest

Ok, we did get to have a sleep in which was nice, but both of us did go to the gym at separate times in the morning. Points to us.

We had brunch/lunch at Glen’s fellowship supervisor’s house, along with the other two women’s imaging fellows and their partners and children. Glen and I weren’t the only ones without kids though. Interestingly, and probably intelligently, Meaghen (the supervisor) had organised for someone to look after the kids and keep them entertained for the afternoon. They had archeology toys and bubbles and balloons and all sorts of things, plus the backyard is big and has play equipment in it.

One of the fellows, Megan, and her husband had lived in Melbourne for about five years while Megan went to med school. We talked to them about Australia a bit, and as is probably usual, I think they’d seen more of it than we had. We still haven’t been to Tasmania or the Northern Territory. Something to do when we get back.

The other fellow, Kristen, her husband works for the Toronto Star as a photographer/documentary film maker. Toronto Star owns Harlequin/Mills&Bill which I thought was pretty interesting. We talked about the decline in positions for full-time photographers on newspapers, as well as the rise of digital books and the fortitude of the romance novel market.

The cake.

Lunch (we were invited for brunch but for me that’s 10:30 and we arrive at 11:30 and probably didn’t eat until 12:30 so that to me says lunch) was a great spread of salad, potatoes, beans, salmon and steak. Then a delicious oreo icecream cake and strawberries. Was all super delicious.

I found it interesting that the table was split between husbands on one end and wives on the other with Glen and I sandwiched in between. The husbands talked about something whereas the wives (and us) mostly talked about medical stuff. Well, I didn’t really talk. I asked a few questions about how their system works. I understood most of it but when it gets technical I start to glaze over.

After lunch we went outside for a bit. The weather had warmed up and it was quite glorious to be in the sun for a while. Enough to make you sleepy. We made tracks at about 2:30 and Meaghen gave each of the fellows a take-home present. We were given a Canada bag with maple syrup, a Canadian flag and a toy. Very cute and a generous thought and deed.

We headed Downtown to go shopping in the Eaton Centre, ostensibly to buy Glen some speakers for his laptop but also to get the various remaining things needed before Albert comes later in the month. We bought sheets at Sears, on-sale tanktops from Abercrombie & Fitch and then a look around FCUK and the Source. We had an afternoon snack in the food court before going to Canadian Tire to buy some household things, a look around Best Buys for a TV (they’d sold out of the cheap one we wanted) and then up to Bed, Bath and Beyond for some pillows and a towel.

I think we were shopping for about three hours. That’s a record for us. Couldn’t wait to get out of there.

We zoomed home, dumped everything in the apartment and then set off again, back Downtown, to see another TIFF film. We arrived just a little bit too late to get a good seat so we were about four rows from the front and I think the screen was bigger than usual. Couldn’t quite take everything in without moving my head.

The film was a French film called Eastern Boys by Robin Campillo. In it, a French man propositions an eastern European guy at Gare du Nord, giving him his address and arranging to meet at the French man’s apartment the next day. The following day the guys gang, led by a Russian, come to the apartment and clear it out. The eastern European, called Malek, comes back, gets paid for sex and a relationship develops. Underneath it all is France’s uneasiness about eastern European immigration (legal or otherwise).

The first third of the film was quite uncomfortable to watch and a bit confrontational, though it wasn’t graphic or excessively violent, just uneasy. I liked it.

There was a Q&A with the director afterwards. The producer and an interpreter were there too but they didn’t say anything. The guy leading the questions was a bit of a pretentious twat with the way he asked his questions or repeated those of others. Just a type, you know, who really wants everyone to know he’s somehow better because he’s talking to the director. Ugh.

Anyway, I find it interesting the questions people ask. What seemed obvious to me in the movie stumped other people. Different way of seeing things I suppose. At least they asked  questions because it was starting to look like no one was going to.

The director answered well, clearly and intelligently. And will humility and humour. I laughed when he said he’d spent months looking online for Russian/Eastern European actors for the roles. I bet he did. The woman in the row in front of us gave me evils.

Fun fact: the character’s apartment was the director’s own apartment. Must have been a low budget film.

After it was over, we burst onto the busy street, after getting stuck behind dawdling people milling around in the theatre. Honestly, were any of them actually trying to get somewhere?

I denied Glen crepes on the way home, much to his disappointment.

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