I’m back…

January 14, 2010

Holy cats! December was an extremely challenging month. Hence the lack of posts. If you don’t have something nice to say…blah, blah, blah. Anyway, things are getting better each day so hopefully I’ll be a bit more diligent about this blog.

I’m adjusting still. I cried the first four times it snowed. It just makes me feel claustrophobic. On the rare occasion that it snows back home, we stay inside. If I did that here I’d never leave the apartment. I never thought I’d consider minus two degrees celsius a warm day ūüôā I’m getting there, though. Last time we had a big snowstorm, I went for a walk in it. Embrace the snow. Be at one with it. That’s my new MO. The attitude adjustment along with the purchase of long underwear has improved things.

There are features I love about this place. You can almost always get a seat on the bus! Unheard of where I come from — we cram together like sardines.¬†¬†In this city¬†drivers stop¬†for pedestrians. Weird, right? You rarely hear¬†someone honk their horn. You rarely hear a siren either. I wonder if there is a correlation there between sane drivers and less accidents?

It’s a book lover’s paradise here because of all the universities. There are second-hand bookstores galore. It’s also sunny a lot of the time. It’s pretty, too. I still marvel at how different and beautiful the buildings are when I walk down the street. ¬†Best of all, there is this dish called garlic cheese fingers. Heaven (and a heart attack) on a plate. Garlic cheese pizza cut into fingers and served with a sweet white sauce called donair sauce. I have no idea what is in that sauce but it rocks.

More ramblings to follow…

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ramblings

December 9, 2009

Well, so far I love this place. The neighbourhood is comfortable with lots of old stone houses. There are several cool shops within just a few blocks, including an amazing, high-end yarn shop. If you know me then you know how much this thrills me. I spend hours online looking at yarn and patterns the way normal people look at porn. Anyway, the shop is full of top quality product — hand spun, hand dyed yarns. I’m going to have to be extremely self disciplined on that street as there is also a yummy, garlicky, cheezy pizza shop next door and a bakery with nice, hot dark coffee next to that. Maybe I just won’t walk down that way too often.  

Oooo…I also went to the sex shop! Well, bookstore/sex shop. It’s fully PC with sex positive classes in various sexual practices and rainbow stickers everywhere. Anyway, I came home and showed C the novel (queer satire fiction, not smut) that I’d bought. She asked me how I’d liked the shop and I told her about all the interesting books I’d looked at. I mentioned how surprised I was to find such a great range of books — everything from queer fiction to more instructive-type stuff to academic theory. Great books! 

Finally she asked me if I’d seen anything else that I liked at the store. I had to admit that I been to the sex shop and failed to look at any non literary paraphernalia. Not even a quick glance. I think this may be my finest (or possibly saddest) moment of geekdom ever.  

So after that shop, I took my lovely queer satire novel down the street to the local fair-trade coffee shop. I was waiting for my coffee when I spotted a carrot cake slathered in cream cheese icing. I love carrot cake but can react badly to walnuts. I asked the barista if there were any walnuts in this cake. She said no, that they only use local products. I must have looked at her funny because she explained to me like I’m the slowest person on the planet that ‘walnuts don’t grow here’. I told her that I’m not from here and so don’t know what grows here. She then picked up the aforementioned queer satire, which had my gloves and another bag sitting on it and asked if it was one of their books. Yes, I’m stealing from you while you are busy saving the world by not importing walnuts, you irritating, smug bitch. The whole thing smacked of Stuff White People Like and made me want to run out and do something bad to the environment. I contemplated asking which Atlantic Canadian coffee plantation they bought the coffee beans from and how they managed to grow sugar cane locally in the cold. I’m trying to be conscious of what I put out into the universe, though, and not get caught up in stupidity. I’ll just blog about it instead.


Are there any…

December 2, 2009

dykes in Halagonia, I mean? Besides the one who I moved here to be with? (And it’s so nice to finally be with her) Guess I’ll have to leave the apartment and find out. I’m finally here. It seems like it took ages. I left my rainy city about a week ago and stopped along the way to visit loved ones.
I’ve never really been able to conceive of living somewhere else. I’ve lived in the same place all my life, nearly 39 years. Now I’m here. I needed to do this. I miss everyone. It’s been two weeks of saying good – bye to the people I care about. I miss the mountains. I miss my dog. I have no friends, no job, no community here. I’ve had more than one overwhelming moment of that ‘omg, wtf have I done’ feeling.

But that is when we have to move. Try something new. Go somewhere. I only get one life — I need to live it. I feel all Mary Tyler Moore now and I have that fucking ‘you might just make it afterall’ song in my head.

I’m going to go explore my new city now.