My 2nd week back at work is done with. It’s gotten easier being on my feet all day, but as apparent from my last two posts, returning to the public eye has been agonizing. After a year of getting away with being a plainclothes employee, I’ve been ordered to wear the work-issued tee. I don’t have any complaints about the tee itself: it’s tasteful, but I do not like that it makes me more approachable. I haven’t been this unapproachable, mentally, in years. Yann is the only person who I can comfortably make eye contact with right now.
Yet, I also suggested that Yann use his sewing machine to make alterations to the t-shirt, making it smaller every week so that it’ll look like all the training I’ve been doing at home has paid off.
Do I want attention or not?
Imagine customers coming into the bike shop and seeing us in “work-issued” crop tops? But I jest. I still dream of getting a tinted full-face shield.
Continue reading “I’m an approachable snob.”
I’m confused about how I feel about being back at work. I got too used to not being around people so I forgot how awkward the public can be around me, which in turn, makes me feel awkward.
The best part about wearing a mask at work is that I don’t have to figure out what to do with my mouth around people. I’ve noticed that some of the staff at the local supermarket have full-face visors. I’d like that, but tinted–or a mirror finish so that all those bumbling hearing people can see how they look then they react to my deafness.
No, really. The two-month quarantine period really did fuck me up socially. Anyway, we’re living in a time where wearing something like this is now socially acceptable:
Continue reading “Intangible interactions.”
Certainly, a solid bit of advice, though more complicated than taking your credit card to a bike shop.
I’ve made a video that I think would’ve helped me in my pre-mechanic/pre-bike ownership days.
Despite being 15 minutes long, I’ve actually only shared the basics. I don’t think anyone new to cycling wants to watch an hour-long video of me blabbing about the fine points of bikes. Besides, I’d rather make separate videos discussing these points in detail.
Please note that I’m Canadian, therefore when prices are mentioned, I’m referring to our rainbow Canadian currency. A fellow deaf bike mechanic based in London, UK–and superfriend–Ed, has slightly different opinions on bikes as the standards are different over there.
Continue reading “Buy A Bike.”
If you think only important news should be captioned, it means the deaf community will only have access to the depressing stuff. Right after I uploaded the previous post, I started on a new post explaining how I came to move out of the parents’ place at 17.
Halfway through the post, I thought, “This is pretty melancholy so far. Do I want to post something like this immediately after writing about my inaccessibility woes?”
So, I ditched that post and instead put my energy into creating accessible content for YouTube.
Continue reading “I have a YouTube channel now?”
I miss bouldering. It’s not that Victoria doesn’t have a bouldering gym, it’s just not Bloc Shop. I’ve switched back to climbing. Yes, there’s a difference: one can be good at climbing, but suck at bouldering. This was me until I moved to Montréal and started going to Bloc Shop regularly. Then, I was mediocre at both.
In a seemingly futile attempt to improve, Yann and I would often film each other’s attempts on the trickier problems (bouldering routes are called problems). These videos were usually deleted from my phone shortly afterward; however, many of them ended up being automatically uploaded to my Google account.
What was I supposed to do with them all?
Make a compilation of our fails!*
Continue reading “A rapid succession of non-successes.”
A bug flew down my jersey while Ed, Yann, and I were making our way back to the Langdale ferry terminal by bike. I didn’t know what kind of bug it was until I tried to assist its exit by tugging on the front of my jersey.
Continue reading “Just can’t get enough of the rain.”
I have the Accuweather (short for “accursed weather”) widget on my phone, with Victoria set as the default location. When I tap on the temperature display, I can swipe left to view the current conditions in my old home city of Montréal. Around this time of the year, this action is supposed to validate my decision to run away from the frozen wasteland that surrounds the Saint Lawrence River.
Instead, it was Montréal that got to enjoy a month of balminess while I found myself sealed inside my waterproof breathable jacket for the entirety of September, all while on vacation!
On the 14th, Yann and I welcomed a Briton to British Columbia. Before his arrival, I told our guest, Ed, that Victoria was a lot like London. Victoria has double-decker buses, English pubs, fish n’ chips, and the Union Jack waving everywhere. You can’t walk 50 metres without seeing the Queen’s portrait somewhere.
“You’ve never been to London, how would you know?” Ed asked.
I grew up watching Mr. Bean, which obviously makes me an expert of all things London! But, let’s not focus on my misconceptions of London: Ed was about to have his preconceived ideas of Victoria ripped apart.
Continue reading “Welcome to the Rainforest.”