Prompted by my unemployment: I may begin operating on vampire time when gathering groceries from Jim Pattison’s Pantry. It’s not that I’m intimidated by my celery stalker: I find her insufferable to such an extent that I’m willing to go out in weather like this under the cover of night to avoid interacting with her:
I HAVE A PASSION FOR AVOIDING PEOPLE.
Continue reading “There’s even an emoji for that: 💯”Last Thursday, Jordi and I had reservations for the 3pm sailing to Tsawwassen. I’d been up since 6am and did the classic Alexa and Laura Waterfront ride before 8am. I stuffed the following into my large backpack: puffy slippers, Kindle, Switch, undergarments, outer garments, toiletries, towel, and wallet. I picked up some snacks for the journey and packed them up in an insulated tote bag. I even packed my passport in case someone in the big city felt like giving me grief over my expired photo ID.
It wasn’t even lunchtime, and I was ready. I shared my triumph in a text message to Jordi and asked if I should put my shoes on. Alas, Jordi still needed to get his keys to the friends who were to look after Klaus. When 2pm rolled around, my annoyance had bubbled up. There was no way we’d get to the ferry terminal in time for our 3pm reservation.
It was up to me whether I wanted to start our four-day getaway with a fight. As soon as I climbed into the truck, the projection of my frustration was hindered by being in motion. I’m a deaf person with atrophied vocal chords, and I wasn’t about to distract Jordi with a flurry of furious flying fingers.
Once we cleared the toll booth at Swartz Bay–and it was official that we wouldn’t make it on the 3pm ferry–I was still irate. Once we were parked in the lineup, I’d already realized my annoyance was overblown and that castigating him would be unproductive. Instead, I opted for a nap, and this was the right decision as I felt rejuvenated upon waking up.
The lineup started moving a few minutes later, and I said farewell to the my bad mood and the island as Jordi drove us onto the Queen of New Westminster.
Continue reading “Albert Lagoon: Canadian Icon.”The cost wasn’t a barrier to getting on a seaplane to Vancouver, but an expired photo ID nearly held me back. I assume one needs to update their main piece of ID every five years so they don’t age out of their photo. Although now two years past expiry, my ID is still two years newer than my passport.
Cursory online research says it’s how one stays enrolled in the Medical Services Plan. However, it was not a problem when I ended up in the hospital last June. I’ve also had several doctor’s appointments since it expired, so I can only imagine I’m still enrolled in the Medical Services Plan. I don’t want to update my ID for three good reasons: it costs money, it takes time, and my photo is weirdly gorgeous.
That may be why the Harbour Air service agent made a small fuss. I pulled out my other IDs, including my recreation centre pass, to appease her. To my relief, the neighbouring agent took my side and ushered the first agent to print my boarding ticket.
Jordi remarked that my complexion looked a bit tan. I’d just spent three days under the pouring rain on the mainland. I think my skin is starting to change hue from carrot juice overconsumption. The big bottles of the Bolthouse juices have been on sale. Each bottle contains the juice of 39 3/4 carrots, as determined by the Carrot Council of Canada (CCC). I may have gone through five bottles last week: 198 3/4 carrots.
Continue reading “Halloween is not on December 31st!”A month ago, Kristen texted me requesting my improv acting skills—a skill I did not know I had. This was to take place at Vancouver Community College, and I’d been looking for an excuse to visit the mainland. I didn’t realize that the date was right before the long weekend when everybody’s hyped about crossing the Strait of Georgia to get to the island or vice versa. Good Friday enthusiasts are no good.
Alright, I’ll leave before the long weekend ferry rush. Still, travelling to the ferry terminal right after work didn’t float my boat, and it’d been a while since I’d taken the seaplane. That was the plan until a co-worker pointed out Helijet was having a sale: $137. I’d never been in a helicopter!
Continue reading “Forget Jebus.”
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