Having just returned home from coffee (aka wine time) with my old friend, the English Boy, I have made a resolution.
Stop whining. Keep wining. Resume breathing exercises from Freeing The Natural Voice.
Vancouver may be good looking and vacuous, but so was every episode of The Hills and I loved that. I have things I want to achieve and I might be able to do them here. Servitude is not my forte, but neither is work in general, so perhaps I can hack it while I make my small effort to express on paper, in jewelry and in words, what is on my mind and in my foolish heart.
Maybe I'm just outrageously cheered by the discovery of an actual literary festival right here in Vancouver! A mere 2 days after my birthday, it's as if it's being held specially for me! It is only for one day but me and one of my friends here, a Fellow European*, are beyond delighted at the prospect (though her first reaction was 'Are you serious? Can people here read?'). I still think it's a shame that you have to be a virtual detective here to find out what's up in a cultural sense (I'm talking to you lame Georgia Straight).
As expected the English Boy has already fallen for Van hook, line and sinker, not to mention been able to find a pub where you can go up to the bar and don't need to have waiter service, and has made about 12 times more friends than I have. Peculiarly, I still like him, and he's invited me over for dinner next week.
Luckily the pound and a half of make up I had to plaster on before meeting him stayed stunningly in place for the duration of the afternoon. If I had been born before the advent of Benefit cosmetics I think there's a good chance I might never have been able to leave the house.
Please note if the title of this post puzzles you, check out the wonderful Aussie sitcom Kath & Kim. I regret to say I've been resembling Kimmie of late and resolve to stop.
* you are never European when you are in Europe, only once you're in North America, where Europe is just one place. British people never consider themselves European at all until they travel, when they will gladly take on the mantle of European exoticism. That way we can differentiate ourselves from a nation of people who cannot correctly pronounce the word 'out' and another nation consisting of hordes of folk who hadn't heard of Leonardo da Vinci until The Da Vinci Code was made into a movie.