The entire table of respectable federal government employees started sharing winter misery stories punctuated by unbleeped expletives. This blew my mind.
Among the people who celebrate Christmas, religiously or secularly, there are two teams.
I’m not doing anything illegal or shady. I’m not gambling, cheating or drinking. I’m not even watching a pirated movie.
A child abduction case, a murder on an island, investigative journalism and inspired entrepreneurs: I have a great podcast recommendation for every taste!
The “extreme weather warning” issued by our messiah, The all-almighty Weather Network, was not a joke. Yet, until the night before, it felt surreal.
I keep on thinking about that strange night and my reaction. At what point are you supposed to call the police or call for help? Have you ever dialled 911?
Like many immigrant families all over the country, Feng and I blended our respective cultures at home—Chinese, French and Canadian in our case. Do you want to see our Chinese side? Follow me!
Since lottery jackpots have skyrocketed to unbelievable amounts of money, the concept of lottery tourism…
I work for three more minutes before realizing, like every night, that Mark isn’t going to obediently turn the TV off and come upstairs by himself, without parental supervision. I mean, he is perfectly able to perform these tasks—he just doesn’t want to.
Since Trump was elected the leader of the free world—gosh, just typing this was heartbreaking…—Canada became a place of interest to Americans who want out. Here are my tips to Americans considering crossing the northern border for good.
I didn’t feel like listening to analysis, explanations or excuses. I didn’t want to hear Trump again. I wanted to see the night unfold in 140 characters or less because really, “WTF” is only three letters and this was all we needed at this stage.
One of the side perks of moving to Canada was to discover America and observe our Southern neighbours up close.
As the year comes to close, it becomes time to reflect upon it. We think…
Meet Hélène, a French immigrant who chose to settle in a beautiful small town in British Colombia.
I’m finally getting good at this whole Halloween thing. Phew. Took me long enough!
It was snowing. In October. Not the kind of slightly wet rain that can still pass as your regular fall rain, but big fluffy snowflakes, the kind Hollywood favours to feature in Christmas family movies.
When was the last time you said the word “no” out loud? Five minutes ago? Yesterday? Last week?
I will add this moment to my long list of #facepalm #innocentmoments. Phew.
For a couple of years, I would often say “that’s so Canadian!” whenever I was confronted with something new, puzzling or different—and yes, sometimes I said it with a hint of annoyance and French superiority in my voice.
Grab a leaf or two and admire the unique range of colours and patterns along the veins. No, I’m not stoned, thank you for asking.
Whenever locals or tourists need to travel, their first thought is to fly. But really… is this the only way to get around?
I’ve been living in Canada for so long that any true culture shock I faced is now a distant memory.
Or so I thought, until last month.
At four, I considered Mark was old enough to help me mangle a North American classic: cupcakes. The challenge? Two persons, one kitchen, yummy ingredients but abysmal baking skills.