Long time ago

in a land, far, far away; my last and only hope to stay in Vancouver was dashed.

A year ago I got the call that I would not get the job I'd been hoping for. They decided to go with the person they thought they would get along with better.

Yeah, I know. I think about that sentence at least once a day.

I regret not staying in Vancouver less and less. When I realize how little money we actually make, we'd have been homeless by now had we stayed.

***

This weather though.
Fuck this winter.

***

I spend a great deal of my time pretending to be someone I am not.

It's difficult.

Still, I haven't had a progression in my MS symptoms since I originally got sick in December 2008.

It just the same shit, every day, all day.

I'm trying my hand at self-employment.

I really hate it.

I really hate the people you have to deal with in order to both eat AND pay the bills. I hate the person I have to become in order to be perceived as competent and capable.

I'm depressed, but not as bad as I have been before.

I hate it here.

I need to start dating an extrovert with money, because I'm bored to fucking tears around here.

Life wrap-up - Debrief - Part 2 of an Indeterminate Amount of Blog Posts

I'm only writing this today because of four people. Well, six if you include my parents who got it on just shy of 40 years ago leading to my birth 40 weeks later, but I digress.

I'm here today because I once had a best friend. A best friend who needed my help, and she said she would help me.

I'm here today because I flirted with a man on the internet and I wanted to find out if the online attraction worked out in real life.

***

On September 20, 2003 I got on an airplane. I had a few thousand dollars, a one-way ticket on a now-defunct airline that offered the aviation equivalent of Greyhound, and I had hope that something would be different.

My best friend and I would stop speaking the following March, and would not see each other again for five years. 

I'm here today because an ex-partner let me move in with him after we broke up because he realized that we didn't break up because we couldn't live together, and having someone splitting the rent and bills with was better than going it alone.

The online flirtation turned into a 15 month on-again, off-again, something or other. It ended with me screaming "Lose my number, pretend that I am dead." into the phone on Boxing Day afternoon, 2004.

10 months after that fateful bubble bath of rage and fury, I would marry a man I met online just days before that break-up telephone conversation. 

I didn't know that then. I didn't know that man's last name then. In that moment, I didn't know if I would ever speak to him again.

I would leave my ex-partner's apartment to move in with my spouse; just three doors down.

I'm here today because I met a man and the only way we could be together was to get married.

***

Ten years ago today I spent my first day in BC. Breakfast and coffee in North Vancouver. We visited 29th and a Half beach in West Vancouver because I had never seen the ocean, I got my first piece of beach glass there. Then we had more coffee and patio time at Bean Around the World in Ambleside. I was ridiculously dressed for West Vancouver. In hindsight, that should have been my first clue that where I had moved was not the big city I'd been hoping for. In hindsight, I am pretty sure that my "something or other" was kind of embarrassed by me. In hindsight, I was hopeful that something would be different.

***

So much has changed in ten years that I don't even recognize the person who got off that plane in 2003. I'm no longer a redhead. I no longer use $30 hair goop. I no longer wear stompy boots, or go clubbing, or drink 6 double shot lattes before 4 PM and smoke a pack a day.

***

As terrible as my first year in BC was, and as not quite as terrible as my last year was, I'm glad I did it. I'm glad I got on that plane. I'm glad that I loved two people enough to trust them, even if that trust ended up being a little misguided. I'm glad that I went to Bowen Island. I'm glad that I went to the parties, clubs, and The Cambie. I'm glad that I dressed ridiculously for West Vancouver, North Vancouver and Vancouver Vancouver. I'm glad that I bought yoga pants, and Gore-Tex fleece jackets, and learned to buy jackets with hoods and stop using umbrellas.

As much as I miss the weather, I am glad I don't live there. As much as I miss functional public transit, cheap and plentiful sushi, edible Indian food, and conveniently located amenities, I'm happy we left.

Edited to add the sentence that should have closed this post:

I miss my friends, but I'm relieved to be away from the place that never quite fit.

Debrief - Part 1 of an Indeterminate Amount of Blog Posts

There's so many things that I want to say about Vancouver, but writing them down in the emotional turmoil of our quickly scheduled move seemed... unwise.

I landed in Vancouver on the evening of September 20, 2003.

I left Vancouver on the afternoon of April 25, 2013.

That's 6 months shy of 10 years. I had four apartments in that time. I dated five Vancouver-based people. I had 9 jobs; 13 if you include short-term temping. I was diagnosed with MS there. I found out who my friends were there.

Things I Totally Do Not Regret

1. Getting on that plane.
2. Dating Finn.
3. Breaking up with Finn.
4. Moving to East Van.
5. "Growing up" here, for lack of a better description.
6. Becoming friends with the women I became friends with.
7. Not getting into yoga.
8. Trying to stay in Vancouver.
9. Falling in love.
10. Deciding that Vancouver's latest rejection would be its last.

***

Maybe I missed a key developmental phase or something - but I never fell in love with the place.

As a city, it's kind of lame. No pedestrian culture and no grown-up drinking scene that isn't a plastic-coated freak-show straight out of the The Real Housewives of Vancouver (which is, shockingly, a real thing).

Everyone seem to spend their time and money trying to get away from there, either to the wilderness or Seattle. No one wants to really *live* there, it seems.

The pretty view doesn't pay the rent... and the view is only pretty when it isn't raining.

I never was smitten by the tourist brochures. I never felt a "soul" here because everything - and I mean everything but the Stanley Park cedars - seems so impermanent. It feels like nothing is established; like everything is temporary - including the people.

I said once before that Vancouver only felt like home when I was away from it. I realize now that "home" was about where my bed and my belongings were, not about the city in which those things resided. My new town will not feel like home until I get a proper bed to sleep in. Which given our financial situation, and Joe's new-found aversion to owning stuff, is going to be a long time.

I don't miss Vancouver, which isn't to say that I've fallen in love with this place either, but I really am glad I'm gone. 

***

I don't know what the future brings. My life is a blank slate as of May 1, 2013. I have an appointment with a temp agency on Wednesday morning. I am perpetually lost here and have no sense of direction unless I can figure out where the Detroit River is in relation to where I am, which is not very often. I'm going to start writing more; both this blog and my professional persona's.

***

But I do know what my past held, and I don't regret a minute of it. The two people who originally brought me to Vancouver haven't been a part of my life in 8 or 9 years at this point.

I loved them both at one time. I will always be grateful to them for being in my life exactly when they were. I would not be the person I am without them.

***

Confidential to E: You are the only person I cried over. You're the only person I still get teary-eyed about. I miss you so much.

***

I will probably return to Vancouver to visit any friends who might remain there in a year or so. I will never live there again. It turns out that I'm just not a "West Coast Person". I'm okay with that. I don't know that I am a "Southern Ontario Person", but I'm okay with that too.

BRAINZ! An Update

I had my 6th or 7th MRI since November 2008 today.

No contrast makes me happy. I don't like nursing an IV hole for three days.

My neurologist will give me The State of the Brain Address, as she does every year, on April 18.

My hope is she does not insist on referring me to the closest MS clinic to where I am moving. London, ON is two hours from where I'll be living and is NOT convenient. I would like a local neuro, and I'll get a referral to a clinic when we move closer to one.

***

One year ago I was flying to Chicago. I listened to Katy Perry all fucking day to celebrate.

***

I hope that dinner and some caffeine cures this tired I have. I have an art show to go to in a couple of hours.

A Breakup Song for a City

White knuckles and sweaty palms from hanging on too tight 
Clench of jaw, I've got another headache again tonight 
Eyes on fire, eyes on fire, and they burn from all the tears 
I've been crying, I've been crying, I've been dying over you 
Tie a knot in the rope, trying to hold, trying to hold, 
But there's nothing to grab, so I let go 

I think I've finally had enough, I think I maybe think too much 
I think this might be it for us (blow me one last kiss) 
You think I'm just too serious, I think you're full of shit 
My head is spinning so blow me one last kiss

Just when it can't get worse, I had a shit day (no!) 
You had a shit day (no!), we've had a shit day (no!) 
I think that life's too short for this 
I'll pack my ignorance and bliss 
I think I've had enough of this. 

Blow me one last kiss. 

This title has nothing to do with the content within

The prospect of moving cross-country in theoretical car that hasn't been purchased yet, in just six-ish weeks is daunting.

***

I don't regret moving to Vancouver, at all. I do regret staying as long as we did.

***

I've started sending emails to people I used to know. There are two people who've completely fallen off the face of the earth that I would like to say goodbye to, but it appears that they don't live in Vancouver any more either. It seems as though those couple of years are just as well left in the past.

***

I figured out that this is the first "new life" I've started that isn't because of the end or beginning of a romantic relationship.

"Now THAT'S progress!" I can hear my ex-therapist say.

***

Truth be told, I'm a little embarrassed about where we're moving, but I hope that my husband finally gets to realize his dream of a BCS sooner rather than later.

And maybe, just maybe, our luck with timing will change and we'll be in the right place and the right time.

***

Someday, maybe soon, I'll write about how Vancouver saved my life. Maybe that won't happen soon. Maybe I'll wait until I'm gone.

As promised... Fuck This Shit

If you were reading last week, the title of this post means that I didn't get the job.

For the fourth time, it's come down to me and one other person and I wasn't "the right fit".

So that's it. We're done.

This decision was made weeks ago, contingent on this one last job prospect. Now that I have failed, there's only one choice. Joe and I will be leaving Vancouver at some point after April 20 and before April 30. There's no reason to stay.

For 48 weeks I have been unable to secure long-term, somewhat secure, non-exploitive employment. We've spent our savings, we've maxed-out our credit cards, and now we are almost out of Employment Insurance. We have no prospects. We're at the brink of poverty.

Joe has a plan for his further education that he'll be happy to share with you if he knows you.

I have no plan.

For the second time in my life I'm taking this absolute leap of faith and hoping for a survivable landing in a place I have never really been, pretty much sight unseen. I am unconvinced this the right thing, I just know that it's the only thing Joe can do, and I might as well go along for the ride.

***

That said, if we own something that you want, it's yours for $20 OBO. We are only taking our clothes, laptops, and a few personal items. Everything else must go. If it can't be donated or recycled, it is going in landfill.

***

I want to be full of foot-stompin' rage right now, but I just don't have it in me at this moment. I feel so defeated, rejected, and hopeless. Vancouver has made it clear that there is no place for me here, so all I can do is hope that something will be different somewhere else.

***

This is all I have to say about this right now. I'll be back shortly to vent my spleen about my experience with this city.

15 days

I have 15 days to find a job or we have to seriously reconsider our continued Vancouver residency.

My husband has never been unemployed this long except for when he was a full-time student.

I haven't been out of work this long since recovering from my first MS attack.

Things are terrifying for us. I'm trying to figure out what I can differently, but I am not sure what that is.

I'm going to maintain the basics over the next two weeks, but I am going to be far less social, far less fun, and far less interested in anything that isn't employment related.

***

I cry every single day. For at least an hour. I've been trying to do it while Joe is at math class or while he's sleeping.

***

Tomorrow is the first Habs v. Bruins meeting of the truncated season. Thanks TSN for airing it.

It happened again.

I went on "vacation". I went back to work.

I've just finished my second week back and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror in the bathroom at work... and it hit me like a tonne of bricks.

Let me fill you in on this. I work for an elderly man who should have been retired 20 years ago. Or more. He has no clients come to the office. He solicits no new business. He has not changed his business practices since 1976 and hasn't upgraded any of his technology or software since 2003. His office is still on dial-up.

So, all I have to do is shut up and type, file, make statements and answer the phone. He does not care what we wear to work, he cares that we show up for work.

I'm fairly certain that his assistant accountant has come to work in her pyjamas multiple times.

I'm really certain that his office assistant who's working on the archival/document destruction project wore the same clothes to work three days in a row last week.

After looking in the mirror at work I'm pretty sure that I stopped giving a shit. My clothes are clean and I don't look like an unmade bed. I didn't, however, put product in my hair or put on make up. I wore board shorts and skate shoes, a tshirt and a hoodie, a baseball cap and a pair of knock off Wayfarers. I carried a massive black and white tote bag because it is big enough to hold all my crap AND two bottles of wine or four liters of soup.

I realized that I wore something similar on Wednesday and Tuesday and pretty much all last week. I stopped giving a shit about how I look the day after I returned to work.

I have been here before, and I'm kind of pleased that I noticed after only two weeks. I am treating this as a wake-up call. I need a new job. I need one now. I can't have this job suck the life out of me for a second time.

***

The last glass of wine (well a little shy of a standard serving) was not as yummy as the first and second nights, but still drinkable.

***

I have never considered doing improvisational comedy as a hobby or interest (I'm more of a stand-up kinda woman) but I am apparently going to the TheatreSports League Open Drop-In tomorrow afternoon. What the hell, I've got a husband trying to finish an album using his brand-new and completely awesome Reason software and who's started Week One of The Year of Calculus; it's not like we had plans.

Gl*tterB*tches

That's the name of my MS Walk 2010 team.

Here is the link to my team page.

Support me as I walk (or crawl, not sure how the mobility will be come April) for a cure!

Wanna join my team for the walk in Vancouver, April 25, 2010?

Comment with your email address and I'll send you an invite! (I won't publish your email.)

There will be glitter! Tiaras! Feather boas!

Woo!

Joe and I went down to the cauldron today. It was 10:30AM on a Saturday morning and there were hundreds of people and a two hour wait to get to the unobstructed viewing platform. Not worth the wait so we just had to deal with across the street or fence views. (The photo above was taken through the fence gap.)

As we were walking to the cauldron area we came to the space between the Shaw building and the new Fairmont and caught our first view.

The word "wow" popped out of my mouth before I could stop it. I didn't think that I would feel anything upon seeing it, but it was a sight to behold.

The masses moving along West Cordova were mostly Canadians, with quite a few Americans & smatterings of Italians, Poles & Russian soldiers/sailors. What struck me about the crowds wrapped up in their red maple leaves was the diversity. Every race, every shade within those races, accented English, accented francais. It was incredible to see the great mosaic that we talk about as a theory or an ideal laid out before me. Sikhs with red turbans and maple leaf pins, young Islamic women wearing white with red maple leaf hijabs, an American couple with their three kids in Team Canada jerseys, the gay couple wearing their rainbow Canada flags as capes.

While I don't even pretend to think that Canada is "post-racial" and that we're some awesome utopian land of equality, tolerance and fraternity, for 17 days in February, 2010 in Vancouver, BC - Canada was pretty okay with being Canada - and the definition of the Canadian soul as something that it is, rather than something it is not, became just a little less vague.

For now. Come Monday we'll be back to our hand wringing, navel gazing selves when the UK Guardian spits it's last bit of vitriol our way over the closing ceremonies.

My MS backpack.

I wanted to do a blog post about it, but it hasn't arrived yet.



Other than that I'm busy with hockey and hoping against hope that the HRT fixes my Premature Ovarian Failure soon.