Lately

 a burnt-out, sunken boat that was recovered from the river recently

 Rowntree park every afternoon. Sometimes I swear it feels like I live in a fairytale.

 Cream tea at Grey's Court. There is almost no better combination than raspberry jam and massive amounts of clotted cream to go with fresh scones.

 My attic garret "studio" these days.

 Halloween pumpkin carving. J is paying tribute here to Reflektor's on-stage costume. Later, we turned it into a bandit costume with the help of a red bandana around his mouth.

Guy Fawkes Day fireworks at the university.




My life has been simplified in so many ways. These are the things that make me happy right now.

Haribo Star Mix. I think Haribo is German, and their gummy candy has been a favourite of mine since I went to school in Austria for 3 months in 2008. But the Star Mix is the best because it has a little bit of everything: gummy bears, cola bottles, eggs, rings, and hearts.

Going to the pub early and getting home at a reasonable time. No more the 10, 11 p.m. o'clock start time. Because my friends here are oooooollldd (ok, the oldest is 38 and the youngest -excluding me- is 27) it means that they have real adult jobs to attend the next day. So we will typically meet at 8 (on the dot. Everyone is so punctual. I'm always late) and I'll be home by midnight. It's lovely. I love my 8-9 hours a night.

Cheese. So. Much. Cheap. Cheese. Cheddars, Stiltons, Wensleydales, goat cheese, sheep cheese. Even their low brand cheese is a 5 year mature cheddar. It just makes cooking so much tastier.

And speaking of cooking, I love it again. I love going to the shops and picking up fresh seasonal veg. Coming up with cheap and tasty combinations. My dad taught me to use up ingredients in the fridge, to not let stuff go to waste. You have to be that much more creative and innovative when you have a mostly bare fridge.

Working for myself. It means I set the hours, and only I am responsible for if the work gets done or not. This whole illustrating experience has been so enlightening that even if I don't get more work after this contract, I will have learned so much about myself. That I like my slow mornings. I like staying in my pjamas until after lunch. I like the work itself, very much.

Skype dates with friends from all over the world. There are some people with whom you can just pick up with as though no time has passed, and those people have become very precious to me. It has been a fantastic way to spend an evening with a glass of wine, and most surprisingly of all, I don't sign off feeling sad that I'm not with them. I sign off feeling exhilarated and happy and at peace.

My parents. I was so worried that living with them again would be difficult and messy, but it's been wonderful. I really quite like them, haha.

The sun. We haven't had a rainy day in ages. It's nippy, but it's also November. And the leaves and the park and the people...ugh. Beautiful, to the point where I'm slightly disgusted.

The anticipation of Christmas, and most exciting, Christmas music. I have had to give myself some stern talking-to's about playing it before December 1st. And Christmas means Dani comes here, and I have missed her extremely.

Home

It's been so strange. Not being here nor there. For the first time since I started travelling independently, I have no "going back" to go back to. I talked about it with my mom, and she said she felt the same way. Like, it kept hitting her that this was it- York was her home now, and had she made the biggest mistake in coming here? In fact, she said, England didn't really feel like home at all until almost a year later when she and my dad made a return trip to Canada to visit me, among other things.  In returning to the place where she had thought would feel most like home, it hit her that it didn't feel like home at all. She had no house there, no work, no belongings. It was, she said, a great place to visit, and see all the friends she had made over the past 8 years, but it didn't feel like home. York did. And she was glad to eventually go back there, after a couple of weeks.

I can feel that way a bit. Again, I have no physical abode to return to there, and only my poor sister Dani is still stuck there out of my family members. I have the majority of my friends who live there, but I have started to make a few friends here too. I have a job of sorts here, and I love the food and lifestyle much more. People are more reserved here, so I like shocking them with my openness. I feel fresh and bright and, strangely, a bit American. Bold. I can't even begin to blend in as soon as I open my mouth, so I've reached the point where it's just like Alright already, I'm a foreigner yes, get over it and sell me my darn kale.

It's a different life than what I was leading in Alberta. But it's not worse. I quite think that I will enjoy my few months here. I'll keep you updated.

Dear Friends

Well. Here we are now. I can relax, start to evaluate, reflect on my life that whizzed by in the last 6 months. There was something kind of awful about the spring and summer. I guess I learnt how hard I can push myself, but it was to the detriment of my friends. Every week was a blur of work, eat, sleep- and my only social interactions happened with my coworkers and sometimes those I lived with. Don't get me wrong- I grew to love the people I worked with so much more, and to appreciate the inestimable value of next-door friends (you know, the kind who you can yell at across the yard and they'll amble over for a back yard fire, or if you've got a rare evening free you can knock on their door with a bottle of wine and drink and talk until the wee hours), but my other friends, my old friends, who lived farther away, or who were busy themselves, or unwilling to drop by spontaneously, those friendships suffered.

It's not that I grew to love them less. Not in the slightest. It wasn't that I wanted the friendships to end, or was subconsciously pushing them away- no. If anything, I knew exactly why my unavailability was causing them frustration. I knew that by disappearing I was asking too much of some. By being a terrible friend, I knew that I could ask nothing in return.

Yet. And yet, I continued this existence willingly. I tried- I really did. It may not have looked like much, but every phone call I made not work-related was a struggle for me. Every coffee date squeezed in between shifts meant a loss of an hour or two of precious stillness. I was at the point of exhaustion in my life where even to make a meal for myself was too much. I had nothing left to give, having given so much already to other areas. I was a shell. A broken body. A weary soul.

 You may ask, why? Why did I throw away so much, work so hard? What on earth could be worth it? And this is where I can now clearly see my hierarchy of values appear. What is the most important thing on this planet to me? My family. More than travel, more than friends, more than boyfriends. If I want to be close to my family, I need to move. And I am in the unfortunate/fortunate position of supporting myself. I have too much pride to ask my parents for help. Which means working. For money. Filthy lucre. More than just enough to support my life. I needed money for plane tickets, for visas, for rent, for food, for trains.

And so I ask- can you blame me? Can you really throw guilt on my shoulders that the reason I disappeared this summer was to make money to be able to be with my family? That I called less than usual, that I never had time to hang out, that I wasn't there for big events, for weddings, birthdays, hospital appointments- I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
But if I had to do it again, I would. And I'm sorry that that's the way it is. I wish it wasn't so.

Maybe I am a terrible friend, and this summer was just the breaking point. I have many, many faults, I know. I know that in a few months I will actually be leaving my family, to move to Australia (but that's just the hierarchy establishing itself again- once I have my family, the next most important thing to me is travel. And so off I go). And I would just like to say this. There are as many different kinds of friendship as there are people. It's natural for evolution to occur. People leave, and people come back, but that doesn't mean they care any less. I pick my friends carefully, and love them deeply. If you called and asked for help, I would be there in a flash. If you texted and said to come over, it's important- I would. I would get my shift covered if you wanted me to hold your hand at the doctor. No matter how much time has gone by.

So please, forgive me my shortcomings. Forgive the fact that I needed to pursue my dream of leaving a frozen city for somewhere warm. Forgive me for not having the free time to just chill on a sunny afternoon. Forgive me for not having the money handed to me year after year that would have enabled me to slow down. Forgive me for still caring and counting you all as friends, even when you felt otherwise. Forgive me for not wanting to give up or give in, even when things have changed. Forgive me.

Cross Canada Tour

Here is where I am for the next month or so... I made a cheap new blog so that my parents friends could read it without finding out terrible things about me...ha ha. Basically I am on a cross-Canada tour with my roommate's comedy musical duo. Yep.

So It's Begun...

And so it has begun, the goodbyes. I hadn't even realized that some would happen so soon. I guess it is August now, and with my decision to not come back to Edmonton after the road trip, the end of the month is creeping up.
It blindsided me. We went to a movie and then got Denny's dessert at midnight, and when we parted he said, Well, I guess this is goodbye for a few years.
I hadn't even been thinking that. But he was going to Germany later that week, and wouldn't be back before I left. Oh, I guess you're right, I said. We hugged, and I said It was nice to have met you.
And he laughed, and told me You're going to have to get used to this.
And I thought to myself, Oh dear, oh no. If this is hard, imagine saying goodbye to your closest friends. I am predicting August to be a weepy month.

Have fun in Germany, I said.
You'll have so much fun, he told me. You are just like a movie character. Like a character from a book. You will have lots of adventures.
He got out of the car.
I'll send you a postcard! I shouted after him.
And he smiled, and said Goodbye, Andrea.
Then shut the door.

I drove home, jittery from sugary pie and being up too late and a maelstrom of emotions. I didn't cry (enough tears have been shed over more important things), but I felt numb. I know that when I actually leave I will feel sad, but I will also feel overwhelming relief of having escaped, and excitement for the future. I also have come to understand over the years that there is very few growing experiences that aren't painful, and through the biggest and hardest and most difficult situations you come out the other side that much more refined.

Elevators and Deliveries

I have been doing deliveries downtown for the cafe for the past two weeks during the day, in addition to my other jobs. It's odd to be amongst the dead-eyed office workers, wearing sweaters and long pants because of the air conditioning, while I run around in cut-off jean shorts and messy hair from the wind outside. It's very much solidified what I already suspected- that I could never work in a typical office environment. There is something about the lack of independence and troubled visibility of a bigger picture or scheme, the repetitive mundane tasks and the unclear hierarchy, all set under horrendous florescent lights and in a maze-like setting that just makes me think of purgatory, or how hell is portrayed in that movie "Wristcutters". 

Because most of the buildings I deliver to are government offices, I get used to seeing some of the same people every day. In particular, it hit me this week that this one building, North Petroleum Tower, is where someone I would very much like to avoid seeing works. It brought up these memories, and these thoughts, and because it has been 6 months since we fought and I blocked him on FB and told him to never call me again, I've had lots of time to bury my memories and thoughts and let them s******. Perhaps it's because it has been so long, but this week I've been able to rationally and quietly, with no great emotional investment, just mentally touch and probe these feelings. Perhaps that's why I had a dream about him last night, not a bad or a good dream, just a boring dream. Perhaps that's why this afternoon when I went to North Petroleum Tower to pick up our dishes, I had this dizzying sense that I was going to see him. As I approached the elevators, I thought I heard his voice but I shook it off as nonsense. Then I rounded the corner, and perhaps that's why I wasn't surprised when I saw him standing 15 feet away from me, by the doors. He was looking at his phone, and after the slap-in-the-face feeling of recognition, my gut reaction was to back up slowly, away, around the corner where he wouldn't see me. I took maybe two steps backwards when he looked up, saw me, and we both froze. If my face was mirroring his, it would have been horrified. 

So I moved forward. I wasn't sure how he would react, how I would react. All I knew was that this was an Awkward Situation, and if Nolan taught me anything, it was how to bury your true feelings and behave like an adult in Awkward Situations. 

The conversation must have sounded somewhat normal. I hope so. I believe so. I don't know how long we chatted for, but afterwards on my walk back to the elevators I felt stunned, numb, unreal. 

At least now that initial encounter is out of the way. Next time will be easier I know. But the thought that kept looping through my head for the rest of the day, and even now, is how small E-town is. How tiny our world is, and how powerful our thoughts seem some days. 

May

It's a little frightening, this living in limbo. Uncertainty. Going to the lake, of course, helps to centre things a bit, and you start to remember what is really important in life- family, loved ones. Books, card games, hard work, relaxation. Good food. Icy snow-melt swims. Walks through the woods with conversation about everything, while acting like children swinging sticks and throwing rocks in rivers. The 11 hour drive makes it almost a spiritual destination, where you must encounter trials and tribulations in order to reach your peaceful, holy destination.
Coming back, my brother and I spent almost the entire 11 hours listening to radiolab podcasts, and that helped the time fly.

It's green here in the city. My house is dark, now, with any light filtering in the windows yellow and jungle-esque. It would sound damp and verdant, but this is E-town, and therefore we haven't had rain in weeks and the gardens are dry and dying, and the whipping winds blow dust-devils of dirt in your eyes. It's an odd combination to behold. Life, trying so hard to thrive, and the elements tortuously denying them what they need.
Today might rain though.
Last night was my first shift at Fort Ed park, and I rode my bike there and back. Coming home late was terrifying, because I took a riverside trail, and there were no lights. I kept on imagining shapes jumping out of the woods, and then half way up the hill my pedal broke and I felt panicky. I never saw a single soul, but that wasn't comforting- instead, it made me more wild-eyed and twitchy. I don't think I'll take that route again.