Reporting from Montreal

Once I returned from London (more on that later, I hope), Hubert and I set to clearing our things from the apartment. On the whole, this process went unusually smoothly considering I had been living there nearly two years, but even though I had taken or sent back quite a few things, I still ended up having to make a very large sack of clothing to be given away, and there were books and papers to mail at the last minute. Also, while a late-night get-together with my friend Zuzana didn't affect my packing (I had already done as much as I could stand that day), lunch on Monday with Štěpanka was a bit problematic as it was the slowest service either of us could recall encountering at Café Louvre. It was half an hour before we could get a waiter to take our order, never mind how long it took to get our food. I had planned on spending about an hour and a half maximum on our lunch, so the cleanup time was curtailed back home.
But... Hubert got me and the luggage safely to the train station, where I had reserved a couchette. I'm now in Montreal and Hubert, who absconded with a copy of Cosmopolitan, says:
"We had some great fun wiht Josef and Jiri (another composer) tonight with the magazines. They were asking me words like ¨nipples, bang, hot jock, preppy, etc., and also commenting on the clothing (§very green, says jiri)ù and kinda ugly face. Also, they learned §bootylicious§. All over glasses of slivovice."
I told Hubert to tell them that only Cosmo uses the term bootylicious and no one else will know what to think if they say it.