Too distant to be relocated.

When I was a preteen, my parents gave me the “gift” of being relocated to Langley, the town where my school and friends were. Prior to moving to Langley, I lived a 30-minute drive away from a normal social life.

This meant, between the age of 5 to 11, I would have to head home on the school bus immediately after the bell rang. At home in the faraway land of Surrey, BC, I had the company of two cats and, if he felt like it, my much older brother. I also found entertainment in cartoons, the entire Babysitters’ Club and Little House on the Prairie series, art supplies, and sometimes a blanket fort. If I wanted to see my friends on the weekends, though, I had to trust my parents to make arrangements with my friends’ parents that involved motorized transportation.

I know moving to Langley was a sacrifice for my parents, but it wasn’t my fault the schools my older siblings had attended weren’t set up to accommodate deaf students. It wasn’t my fault there were no other deaf kids my age in my neighbourhood.

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Disadvantageous perk.

I like making the title of my posts contradictory, so that they don’t make sense thus lowering one’s expectations for the post itself. The title of this post should be no exception, except it perfectly illustrates the situation that came up today.

I have been working for the same company for years and my wage has grown alongside me, until I moved to Quebec and saw it get cut by $2 per hour. However, this was something I knew prior to the move and I was okay with taking a pay cut for the change of scenery.

My hourly pay is now almost back to what it was before I left Vancouver, but it will never match. The pay cap, which I reached about six months ago, means I can never match my Vancouver-era “wealth”. Except, ever since I took on the role of a bike mechanic, I was eligible for a “mechanic bonus” which was dependent on how well the shop performed, as well as my productivity. I have yet to receive the bonus from the 2017 season but I have been told that it is about $1500 to $2000. In other words, it’s the equivalent of a new bike which is what a bike mechanic always dreams of.

Today, I was told that they were axing the bonus in favour of increasing the mechanics’ wages by a dollar per hour. Save for the six mechanics nationwide who have already reached the pay cap. My hourly earning won’t go up and I won’t be getting a bonus for the 2018 season.

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“You’ve got way too much time on your hands.”

Yet, “youth is wasted on the young.”

I hate that first idiom. Always have. To me, it implies that life isn’t meant to be enjoyed.

Me having the time to knit, cycle, climb, hike, camp or even build an obscenely large gingerbread house isn’t an accident. I actively make time to do all that stuff. My dream is to challenge myself in fun ways and have adventures. Fun is good!

I realize that hard and not-so-fun work is sometimes necessary to achieve what you really want.

But for how long? Is the payoff really going to be greater than the suffering?

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Spiritually materialistic.

Keeping my mind and hands busy at the keyboard rather than Netflix and Chill™ isn’t the only change I am trying to make in my life.

I have cut back on alcohol. Instead of having 3-5 alcoholic drinks a week, I only have about one. Please excuse me if I don’t seem as fun.

As of October 2017, I identify as a pescatarian, which is fancy for saying “I don’t eat cute animals”. It says that I care about animal welfare… but notthat much. I even only eat eggs laid by partially liberated chicken.

As of some time not too long ago, I decided that I’d make more of an effort to be less materialistic. Before every change of address, I am blown away by the amount of stuff that I had managed to accumulate. I already have everything I need; I should not have to move out of a place with more boxes than it took to move in.

Now that I am sharing a small place with Yann, I am finding that we have zero space for anything new. This has been helpful in reminding myself to not buy more shit, no matter how cute it is. The satisfaction a new purchase gives you is fleeting.

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La Pensée du Jour.

The title of this entry makes me sound sophisticated, right?

I think this is why Anglo-Canadians like to randomly incorporate French when writing. I once read a menu that was printed entirely in English except for “haricots verts”. Oh, green beans, you mean?

I’ve frequently seen sandwich boards announcing the “soup du jour”. Yes, Anglo-Canadians are refined enough to know that “du jour” is French for “of the day”.

But the word “soup” is English. The French word for soup is…

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