winnipeg is a boiling pot of cranberries.

My hair may look unwashed & untousled in this picture, and I may be hiding the food in my mouth with my hand instead of a big giant smile, but I must say that my first trip back to Winnipeg was a successful one. The first day back really set the tone for the trip; breakfast at the nook with some ladyfriends, my brother, and his ladyfriend followed by a bottle of B&B in Richardson park while sprawled out on a picnic-quilt, followed by mid-afternoon homemade wine & a gigantic joint at the 70's mixing bowl coloured apartment of some dear friends. Typical Winnipeg.




Luckily I escaped all my family's neuroses and craziness on Real Christmas by staying put in Toronto and celebrating with some newfound friends instead. I discovered that Santa really isn't real because all of my presents seemed to have appeared under my mom's tree in Winnipeg. That, or he got confused and thought I still lived there because I still have a Manitoba Driver's License. Santa, or mom & pop, really spoiled a girl this year. My suitcase is coming back much heavier and not just because of all the Value Village finds and Winnipeg beer I'm carting back for friends (....myself). Shout out to my dad for the new MacBook, my mom for the my wallet full of heavy cash, and my brother for the beautiful coffee table book on Polaroids. You guys rule.



And a clear & loud shout out to all the friends that called me, surprised me, made time for me, bought me drinks, gave me kisses, complimented my hair, had breakfast with me, and generally celebrated my first return home to the city. I forgot that I missed you so much. I don't think I'll be pulling a Homer Simpson & coming back to Winnipeg anytime soon, so it was good to see all of you. Much love. I'll be listening to the Venetian Snare's concept album about my hometown on repeat for the next few days, but maybe skipping over track #5, "Die Winnipeg Die Die Die Fuckers Die". I can't have nobody talkin' shit about my boyfriend.