• Blame Canada

    Vancouver Redux

    Late last year (snort. I crack myself up) I went to The Land Up Over, also known as Canada. The Great White Something-or-other. (NOTE: There was no snow. None. Also no polar bears or igloos. Damn.) I hadn’t been there in FIVE MONTHS, which is odd considering its ridiculous proximity to me, something like 30 minutes. From my house. To the border station, where I get (politely, because this is Canada, after all) invited inside to discuss my “situation.” This time, I was helped by a 5-foot tall guy with a French accent, who shrugged Gallically at me when I said I might be staying there 10 days or so.…

  • Blame Canada,  Ho, Earthling!

    I Totally Moved Here For The Dollar Coins

    Last week I was in Washington, in that country that wanted me back so badly that at the border the Drug Dog took a shine to the rear end of my car and the three border guards standing around there with nothing better to do started peering through the back windows at the two boxes in the back of my vehicle and asking me questions like, “So, have you run over any animals lately?” I thought the prudent course was deny-deny-deny, so I put on my most innocent, shocked expression and feigned innocent shock. “N-n-no! I don’t think so!” I managed to stutter, innocently. That was the wrong answer. This…

  • Blame Canada,  My Brain On Crack

    Punishment

    Although I don’t particularly like them, not this brand anyway, I am eating organic corn tortillas. Microwaved, to take off that raw edge and render them nearly impossible to chew. Also they taste funny, possibly because the package has been in the fridge for weeks (partially opened, I found out) and there’s some white stuff on them that I told myself was “corn dust” and wasn’t the beginnings of mold and therefore isn’t going to make me sick, and I am bound and determined to finish every last tortilla in this package even though there isn’t anything like CHEESE to go with them because cheese is something I haven’t seen…

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  • Blame Canada

    The Other Shoe Is Dropping

    When I crossed the border into Canada in August, I had an uneasy feeling. No, “uneasy” doesn’t even begin to describe the deep-seated FEAR and sense of FOREBODING I had. After all, there I was with my car full of everything I owned, and as far as official-Canada was concerned I was there to be a tourist. Pretty fishy. Last night Matthew and I returned from California and Oregon. I knew the border thing would come up again. Our plan these past several months was to at some point be able to show Canada the seriousness of our relationship and apply for me to be a permanent resident here. I…

  • Blame Canada,  Send in the Clones

    Resurfacing

    Yes, I’ve been busy. I’ve been doing this. And I’ve been doing this. And also I’ve been spending hours a day writing for the upcoming supersecret website I can’t tell you about yet. Except that it’s related to this one. Also, I haven’t been at home for awhile. Matthew and I have been traveling. Yay for traveling. *Cough*. I went to a spiritual workshop thing, where I manned the recording device. Like they really needed someone to do that (push “record,” push “stop” at the appropriate times—really difficult and oh so technical), but I was grateful to be there and I am sure I got something out of it. Not…

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  • Blame Canada,  My Brain On Crack

    Overloaded

    I have this habit of taking on too much.  I have an idealistic mind—let’s call her Bertha, shall we?  Big Bertha—and it often tells me things that don’t end up being quite true.  Bertha tells me I can do anything, that I don’t need sleep (much), that I can get things done four times faster than I actually do them.  Bertha gets me in trouble some days. But I can’t quite seem to let go of Bertha.  When she’s telling me things, it feels awesome.  Like I *can* do anything.  And not needing sleep, why, who needs sleep?  We can all do with less sleep; we’d get way more done…

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  • Blame Canada,  Send in the Clones

    Resurfacing

    Yes, I’ve been busy. I’ve been doing this. And I’ve been doing this. And also I’ve been spending hours a day writing for the upcoming supersecret website I can’t tell you about yet. Except that it’s related to this one. Also, I haven’t been at home for awhile. Matthew and I have been traveling. Yay for traveling. *Cough*. I went to a spiritual workshop thing, where I manned the recording device. Like they really needed someone to do that (push “record,” push “stop” at the appropriate times—really difficult and oh so technical), but I was grateful to be there and I am sure I got something out of it. Not…

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  • Blame Canada

    Surreality

    A few nights ago, Matthew and I drove up to Whistler.  His dad owns a condo there that Matthew is free to use whenever no one else is there, and the weekend we spent there together the first time I visited him here in Vancouver last year remains one of my standout memories.  For one thing, it’s in the mountains and every inch is beautiful.  For another, there’s no internet, which is either a blessing or a curse depending on how you look at it.  But I was on vacation then and those few days were a taste of the first real rest I had had in years. The plan…

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  • Blame Canada,  My Brain On Crack

    Hinterland

    I just received an email about a spiritual conference near San Francisco that months ago I promised to attend.  I wanted to be one of the presenters for the conference but they already had a full slate, so I contented myself with agreeing to attend for nearly-free and volunteering to help out.  There are a number of networking opportunities there, and I am a firm believer that nothing is ever wasted (even though I am a champion self-time-waster). Then it hit me. To get there, I will have to leave Canada.  Cross the border.  Enter the real world. I’ve been using this feeling of semi-unreality as a way to remain…

  • Blame Canada

    Parking Parallels

    It makes me laugh when the ironies of my life are thrown in my face. Since arriving here in Vancouver 6 or so weeks ago, I’ve been sensitive about my car.  For the first week I was illegally parked in a permit-only zone.  Then we paid $5 per week to obtain a blue card to stick in the dash for a few weeks while we thought of something else to do with the car situation.  There’s another car (uninsured; can’t park on the street) and an underground garage space (with one uninsured car presently occupying) but for now it’s my car collecting bird shit and tree sap at the curb,…

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