Laverne, I guess I gonna give one to Lydia

This was the subject line of a junk email I received today. I thought it was entertaining, and should thus be added prominently to my blog. Unfortunately, I'm not quite sure what to say about it, nor do I have any clever slant to pull as a method of discussing the gritty logistics of my life in Montreal. Why don't you just take a few minutes to reflect on its beauty.
[few minutes]
I'm glad we did that. Tomorrow I finish my internship. I'm feeling pretty great about this; the thought of a long weekend and a jobless monday already frees my soul [though should you think I'll revel in sloth, fear not, I've made plans of which I'll discuss with you around a campfire soon]. I've made a date with myself at a new cafe to do some writing and to reopen some of that esoteric theory I've shrugged off lately. Tomorrow, incidentally, is also my birthday. In typical Jordan style, I plan to go ice skating at the Lac des Castors on top of the mountain, followed with a potluck!!! Most people think of dusty churches and out-of-tune pianos when they hear the word. While it's true that I've benefited from many a traditional "dish"--read: broccoli topped with cheez whiz--I've the good fortune of knowing wonderful chefs. And though I likes me a good casserole, I'm lucky that when I call together a potluck, it's essentially a summoning of some of Montreal's greatest chefs. And so this shall be a lovely ceremony.

I wonder what Laverne will bring.