Sunday, October 3, 2010

Drinking the Kool-Aid

Back in the present, I am experiencing some strange, unfamiliar feelings of contentment. For now, I am content to live in Vancougar and see what happens for a while. I'm not promising I won't come home screaming shortly, but maybe I will last a bit longer than I originally thought.

Maybe it's autumn. It really is stunning here. At every turn, and most frequently when I am without my camera, I come upon rows of trees alternating golden and bright red leaves, or startling blue sky above defined mountain peaks. Then there's the sunlight.

I was on the bus travelling over the Lions Gate Bridge with my friend (whom, in a reference to the timeless Bewitched, I shall call Sam) when we became utterly speechless at the site of the city at sunset. The sunlight hit the glassy buildings in such a swathe of rays that the result was a heavenly shimmer of golden reflected light. The soft sparkle was beguiling and gorgeous and I couldn't take my eyes off it, not even to gaze over to the other side of the bridge where I would have been met with the site of the sunset against the ocean.

Tonight I watched the sunset on the ocean side as I was travelling home a little later and missed the bedazzled buildings spectacle. Huge ships from Japan and Korea occupy the harbour here and 3 of them were far enough out that I could see their twinkling lights underneath the orange horizon. Not to mention the dark shoreline spreading out to the intense, behemoth mountains behind.

In other news, I carried three bars of Dairy Milk and two Mars Caramels around London Drugs (Boots/Walgreens equivalent) today for ten minutes while I looked for shampoo, and then I put them back. I got a packet of Tropical Trident gum instead. Proud of me? My Uniqlo jeans are. They want to be worn again.

Something else that wants to be worn again is my yellow party dress, which has such a profound effect on my mood I really ought to wear it every day. It's a frothy chiffon confection and I wore it to my birthday drinks. It was truly sad, having to research a venue online because I haven't been out enough here to know anywhere to go. It was even sadder recruiting my friends' friends so that it actually resembled a birthday gathering. It was even more tragic when the extra friends couldn't make it. Go ahead and get your tiny violin out. What turned out to be fabulous though, was that my research paid off and I spent my birthday drinks party here. The pretention factor of such a very cool and arty venue was offset by the fact that when I walked in they were playing the Amelie soundtrack and I felt like I had come home. Added to that, the cocktails were inventive and yummy, you could go up to the bar and get your drinks yourself, all the staff were friendly and one of them even complimented my yellow dress. The evening gave me so much confidence that I finally had the courage to confront my good friend WK about his shirtless behaviour and request that he stop it if didn't have any ulterior motive. I would quite gladly have taken advantage of any ulterior motive, mind you, but if he thinks he can platonically parade his finery in front of me, he is quite mistaken. He took this news good-naturedly and with assurance that he is as affectionate to all of his friends as he is to me and there was nothing to it. Although my super sized ego isn't entirely convinced that this isn't a load of tosh, I have taken it onboard and accepted the truth that sometimes one 10 year crush is only good for one historical, champagne fueled kiss (circa 2009). Or like, 200 kisses if you divide up how many make one hot half an hour. Suffice to say, I like leaving no stones unturned so full investigation of this particular stone's potential leaves me satisfied.

This evening I came home from a gloriously sunny day of exploring independent record shops (horrifyingly expensive, they made me miss Amoeba, Head and the late Fopp with a pronounced longing pain) and as I was walking from the bus stop through my neighbourood, admiring the firey red end of the sunset I could smell the hot sugar scent of candy floss in the air. I got home to find half of the family outside sitting around a fire pit underneath a canopy of vines, toasting marshmallows on long sticks. When I sat down to join them I regaled them with the incredible true story of how this was my first time toasting a marshmallow over an open fire. I was really able to appreciate the autumnal bliss of the evening and of the delicious burnt caramelised taste in my mouth as the fire was not a campfire, and I was free to go and sleep in my bed afterwards.

So autumn's beauty has hypnotized me and I'm gaining more willpower. I've happily left my long time crush in the realm of non-possibility where it safely belongs. Does this mean you are in for a boringly contented blog? Never fear. The orange haired aunt returns to the house for an overnight stay next week, with one of her men in tow. I doubt I've developed enough willpower to withstand her prying without coming up with at least one huffity teenage response. Stay tuned to rate the immaturity level!

(N.B. I must not discount the possibility that almost 3 months of passive smoking in VanPot means I am now as brainless laid back as the rest of them... that would also explain the overeating tendency)

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