This week I updated my emergency contacts at work. I had been meaning to do it for a while, but it’s one of those things that’s easy put off. It’s not until you need to use them that you usually think about them, but being the neurotic person I am, I like to be fully prepared for any emergency. Despite being a rational and non-superstitious person, there’s a part of me that believes that if I’m fully prepared I decrease the chances of something actually happening.
When thinking about who I would put as my emergency contacts I thought about who I would call if I was hit by a bus and in the hospital. Obviously my parents and brother, but they’re all a ferry ride and hours away. I imagine I would want someone close by as well. I wanted someone was reliable and who I thought I would be comfortable around even in a miserable state.
In the end I chose a couple who are not just ultimate team mates, but friends as well. One works in health care and the other is a lawyer. Whether I’m picked up by an ambulance or a police car, I think I’ll be well covered.
So, who you gonna call?
Odd. I now have the urge to watch movies from the 80′s. For now, I’ll settle for improv of those movies.
Today I drove past the community garden that was up and coming in my old neighbourhood. When I was still living there I had thought about getting involved. It was only a block away and I loved the idea of having a plot of ground to grow vegetables and flowers.
As things go, I never got around to it and before I knew it I was searching for a new place to call home. Seeing the garden today, I missed my old neighbourhood. The nearby shops, familiar faces and the idea of the community garden.
I got home this afternoon and looked around my place. I’ve created a home. It may not be what left behind in my last place. I may not have the community garden or the friends close by, but in many ways, this place offers me much more. It’s a space I’ve created just for me.
I love my little balcony. I’ve got plants growing and producing food!! I’ve got my BBQ and a great place to relax. I ate breakfast in the sun. A few hours later after a nap, I was back out there reading and eating popcorn. Really, could a Saturday afternoon be anymore relaxing?
I was out downtown with a few friends the other night. We were on our way to go watch a band play. I was a little dressed up and walking with purpose. My arms were swinging. You could say I was strutting. I passed a group of girls who looked like they were doing the same thing.
As our paths crossed I let out a little scream. All of a sudden my swinging arm was hooked through one of the girls’ purse straps and I was pulling her purse off her shoulder! How do I explain that I wasn’t trying to steal her purse, but rather my arm accidentally got stuck in it?
The weird thing was that she barely noticed. I looked back and the other group barely skipped a step. I yelled “Oh, sorry!” and both groups continued on. Really, it was just another day in the awkward life of the world’s youngest senior citizen.
I bought a huge watermelon on Friday. 15 pounds to be exact. Having cut up watermelon in the fridge was my solution to the heat wave.
While snacking on it, I realized how tightly watermelon is associated with childhood for me. I remember sitting on the deck of the house I grew up in and seeing how far I could spit the seeds. Watermelon always had to be eaten outside for this reason. I don’t have a single childhood memory of eating it indoors.
So when did the black seeds disappear?
It’s almost as though the seeds are symbolic of easy childhood summers. Gone are the care free days full of playing and exploring. Somewhere along the way the black seeds disappeared too.
I’ve got a weeks worth of vacation booked for August. I wonder if I’ll be able to find a seeded watermelon and a deck to spit them from?
Yes, I am that person. No, I will not apologize for it.
I hate the heat.
There. I said it.
It was six years ago today that I moved to Vancouver. In my naive teen years, I said would never move for a guy, but that is exactly what brought me here. Six years later the guy is gone, but my love for city is still going strong.
One of my favourite Vancouver moments is when I come back from visiting my family. I drive from Horseshoe Bay and as I reach the crest of the Lion’s Gate Bridge, the view of downtown, Stanley Park, the shoreline and the freighters all make me say “Wow, look at this place I call home”. Every time. Rain or shine, it’s a beautiful scene.
I love that there are endless possibilities of things to do here. Sushi and coffee. Theatre and dance. Ultimate and snowshoeing. There are spots to escape to that make you forget you live in the city. Or depending on the mood, you can be amongst all the people and immerse yourself in city life.
Here are some of my favourite spots over the years. What are yours?
Walks at Spanish Banks on stormy days.
Afternoons wandering in Steveston.
Hiking at Garibaldi.