On distance

Living abroad has nothing to do with the place. Sure, the architecture is neat, but at the end of the day... only the biggest nerds can live off that alone. It is the people that you meet that make the memories that make you snicker to yourself whilst you stand in a checkout line.

What? You don't do that? Okay, the memories that make me snicker like a crazy person in the checkout line.


So, when I went to Japan, I expected to meet people. Transient people, who would teach me something and then flit off into the unknown. Fun people who would drink me under the table and then whisk me off for ramen. And in truth, I did find these people. People who taught me about confidence and facing the unknown. People who taught me the beauty of gin. And yes, transient people whom I will most likely never see again.

What I didn't expect, was to make good friends. My good friends are from high school. I don't go out of my way to meet new people. But going abroad has changed that. I met people so different from me, and yet, people I can't imagine living without having met.

And then I left.

Facebook and Skype have kept me in touch with most of them. They enable me to have 3 hour long conversations with my friend in Japan about nothing. It's like there is no distance. Except there is.

"He broke me Shari, I never cry. The muthaf*cker made me cry."

If I was in Japan, this statement would have caused me to make a face of empathy, give a big hug and take her out for a drink. But those are things without words. Silence over Skype is awkward and misinterpreted. Either you weren't listening or you have nothing constructive to say. And thus, you can't be there for the good friends you have made half way around the world.

And it seriously sucks.


S.

On my love of hockey and my inability to read schedules.

Canucks versus Flames. Sunday evening. One of hockey’s great rivalries and at an earlier start time, so that those of us on the island can partake in the religious fever that is our national pastime. Bonnie got two tickets and I couldn’t say no, when the first person she thought to ask was me. Not that I would of anyways. Come on, it’s hockey. Canucks hockey. It would have been going against my upbringing to say no.

So off to Vancouver I was on Sunday. Met Bonnie downtown and had some food. We then proceeded to bitch about everything and everyone. Say what you will about astrology but Bonnie and I, being two days apart in our birthdays, have pretty much the same views on people. Namely, they piss us off.

The BC Lions were playing in the Western Conference Final, so between the football and hockey games, there were a lot of drunk people downtown. The smell of stale beer on people is always attractive.

Finally, its time for hockey. Bonnie and I head to GM Place and up, up, up into the stands. Luckily, there aren’t any bad seats in GM Place because if there were, we would have been in them. Basically, if we had moved back one row, we would have hit the outer walls. That’s okay. From that angle you can see the whole play rather than just the little bit in front of you.

Yeah, I don’t believe that argument either.

Unfortunately, Ohlund was out because of a slashing incident and subsequent suspension. But that didn’t stop the Canucks from having a good game. You have to love when you teams romps 4-1 over the visitors. The poor girls sitting next to us. Wearing their pretty red Flames jerseys. They were very quiet.

I wasn’t.

Hockey is the excuse to be loud, to yell at the players to skate and pass the goddamn puck, to generally make an ass of yourself.

It was fun.

Finally the game let out and I had missed the 7:30 bus home. No worries, there is one at 10. So, I walked Bonnie to her bus. Got on the skytrain. Got off the skytrain and onto the train going the right direction. Headed for the bus station.

Only, there is no one in the bus station.

So, I frantically searched for a schedule. And there in black and white… the clear absence of the bus I was supposed to take. The one that was clearly marked on the website.

At moments like this, it is perfectly permissible to swear loudly.

It is strange the thoughts that go through your head when you are stranded. The first one was that I could spend the night on the benches at the station, which is okay if you are traveling. I have done that. But seriously, I live here. I don’t have the excuse that I don’t understand the transit system or that I don’t know where the hotels would be. The second thought was to get a hotel. Only then did the third thought come into my head, of calling Bonnie and trying to get to her ferry and crash at her place. But, by that time, there was no way I could make that ferry.

So, I waste time in a crisis. I like to make the situation as bad as humanely possible. It makes a better story.

Bonnie suggests going to Tswassen, taking a ferry to Duke Point at which she could drive out to pick me up. At this point, it was clear that I wasn’t going to make work in the morning. I’m in downtown Vancouver. How do I get to the ferry terminal? Suddenly, I remember that I went to visit Laura at Simon Fraser University about 6 years ago and that I had gone through Scott Road Station. Those words didn’t mean much to me at that point but they registered with the guy wearing the lovely skytrain uniform and thus, I was off into the unknown.

I arrived at Scott Road Station 30 minutes later. Let me say one thing – D-O-D-G-Y! I walked around all the bays trying vainly to find one that said Tswassen. Nadda.

So, I suck up my pride and call Laura. The message of that call was basically HELP! After trying to help me with the bus schedule, we concluded that I couldn’t make it to the ferry in time. Laura wouldn’t hear of me staying outside by myself in Surrey. And if you know anything about the lower mainland, you would agree with her.

“Go to the King George Station, I’ll pick you up there. And stand in a well lit area”.

Honestly, I think my friends think I’m 5 years old sometimes. I did live by myself in a foreign country. I am perfectly capable of standing in a well lit area without someone telling me to. I may be from the island but I ain’t no backwater hick. I think.

Laura picked me up, let me crash at her place and drove me to the ferry at 6 am the next day. By the time I got back to Victoria I could have done a half day but my adventure had killed me. So instead I laid around my apartment.

What a fun day. Shari lost in the big city. Par for the course.

S.

The Weekend

I'm not good at making friends. I admit it. It is a skill and one that I seriously need work on. But really, when one has had the same friends mostly, since high school... you don't work on it.

So I have my girls and we fondue. Yes, fondue. A big old pot of oil to fry food in. Yes, it makes your hair reek for days but you will suffer for greasy goodness.

Back in the day (aka 1999 ish) it was easy. There would be an event and we would fondue. Birthday? Fondue. A boring Saturday night? Fondue. Someone going or coming back from a trip? Fondue. (We tend to be the traveling type). It marks important occasions.

So, I came back from Japan. Kind of an important occasion. Six months before I even boarded the plane Tamara asked me if I was coming home. When the answer was yes, she immediately started on the fondue train. There isn't anything that girl wouldn't do for a little batter and cheese sauce.

It was decided. We would fondue. However, unlike when we were teenagers... we have lives. Work. Trips. Commitments. Significant others. Yee gawds, it's like we are adults.

Yes. I am shuddering.

Basically, it took three months to come up with a weekend, when once we used to plan it the day of. I hauled myself up island and thus we feasted. Then we had chocolate fountain. Yes, it is heaven in a fountain.

Friends and food. Is there any two words that go nicer together? If so, I have yet to find them. Except maybe travel and free.

S.

Happenings

I’m feeling very weird lately. Not sick exactly, but really out of it. I wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

Anyways, I’m a red head now. Kind of. After talking about it for around two months, I finally got off my ass and booked an appointment to get my hair done. On Monday I went to the stylist and got red highlights in my hair and a cut. I really like it, as I feel it suits me. Except aren’t red heads supposed to have fiery tempers? Because I sure don’t. My temper is like ice.

Also, the fumes from my head were making me feel light headed. Maybe that’s why I’m so out of it. The stylist told me not to wash my hair for a couple of days and in general not to wash my hair everyday. I suppose that’s all fine, but am I the only one who feels nasty if her hair isn’t washed. I made it two days and totally had to wash. I love the colour my hair currently is, but not enough to be greasy in an attempt to maintain it.

I’m a big ol’ liar. I lie to stylists.

They tell me to blow dry. I tell them I will. I won’t. It’s a waste of time. They tell me to not wash very often. I agree. Such a lie. I wash everyday. They tell me to use a light wax. I tell them I have some at home. I don’t. I hate product. I tell hair stylists whatever they want to hear. I just can’t tell them that product is gross and that blow drying makes me too sleepy to stand.

I also have a big mouth.

Oh, if you tell me a secret and tell me not to tell a soul, I will take it to my grave. But about myself? That’s a bit harder.

Let’s be honest. I’ve been freaking out about being home. I’m bored as all hell and I can’t motivate myself to do anything about it. Sure, I’m going to be volunteering at the museum in January and I have vague ideas of volunteering at the Y, taking dance class, blah, blah, blah. I think about leaving all the time. I just don’t know where to go or what to do. I also think about taking classes or finding a career path.

But here’s the thing. Jason and Stephen are getting married next year. It’s sweet really. They asked me to be in their wedding party. I’m not into weddings in the slightest but make it about two guys and I’m in. Something about a gay wedding tugs at my heartstrings that the run of the mill straight wedding just can’t do.

So, my contract ends in February and so does my lease. I was thinking that if I was to leave then would be a good time. Makes sense, right? But, I’m supposed to be in my oldest friend’s wedding that is set for next summer. It doesn’t make sense in my mind to leave and then come back. Because, I won’t. Rina got married and I didn’t come back from Japan. I probably could have, but pretended in my mind that I couldn’t. Great friend I am. So, I decided that I was going to stay in Canada at least until their wedding. I may stay longer but that is the minimum.

That’s all fine. I make decisions like that in my life all the time. I can live with it.

But then I opened my big mouth and told Jason. He loved the idea.

Now I’m locked in. If I change my mind (which may happen) he’ll totally guilt trip me. What is friendship if not one big guilt trip?

So I’m in Canada at least until August ish. They haven’t set a date. I wish they would. I realize there are problems with a sister that took their date and is stealing their thunder. Problems, problems.

I also wish my friends in general would stop assuming that I’m sitting at home waiting for them to call. I may not have much of a life, but I’m trying damn it. I don’t think that they actually think that I’m sitting at home waiting for them, but situations make me feel like that is what is in the back of their subconscious.

And it makes me want to leave.

S.

Conference

I had mentioned to my friend, IngMarie, that I didn't really know anyone in the city. She suggested attending the Young Women Leadership Conference. I figured, hey, if I'm going to spend 100 bucks I might as well spend it on something that does my soul good and not on a new pair of boots (which I did a few days later. Oops).

A bunch of women in a room together? Sounds scary. But no, it was FAB-U-LOUS!

So, here's the thing. Put me at a dinner table with people I don't know or at a bar, and I'm silent. I hate small talk. If I don't have something to contribute, I don't. I hate when people talk for no reason at all, other than to hear the sound of their own voices (this does not include people who are funny, they can talk all they want). But, put me at a table of people I don't know and have a directed discussion about the qualities of a great leader? Oh, I'm all over that shit.

There was talk of peer mentoring groups and I decided to join one. That will be next week. There were breakout sessions. I went to Entrepreneurship, Women's Relation with money and Volunteering Abroad. Basically, I'll sum up what I learned. Owning your own business? SCARY! My relation with money? I don't have lots of the hang ups that the other girls in my group do (I do not think it's unfeminine to talk about money) but I do have some "blueprints" lurking in my old noggin that need some adjusting. Volunteering abroad? Like I needed more incentive to get on a plane.

For a hundred bucks, I got 4 meals, a door prize of a free haircut, and tons of inspiring thoughts. Not bad for a weekend.

I made the point of sitting next to someone new each and every time we ate and tried to interact with them. I don't think I made any friends but I made a point to myself. I can interact with strangers. I just have to fake that I'm confident and eventually, I'll forget that I'm faking. Hell, a comment about the undergrad who was pumping George Michael's Christmas song with a back beat of house from his res window landed me a ride home. And rides the next day. Thanks George, for helping me become more outgoing!

Good times. Good times.

Six

“I’m going for coffee, do you want me to grab you anything? I’m going to Starbucks.”

That’s how Tawny started the day yesterday. I hate when people mention certain companies combined the idea of joining. Then I am obligated to say I don’t shop at that store, or use those products. I am always faced with the “why not” question.

The reason is that they are one of my six.

Yeah, I boycott six companies. I would like to boycott every company that I think is terrible, but let’s face it, that would be the vast majority of companies. I don’t expect my lack of money spent will influence these companies in any such way, but hey, I like to feel superior. Yup, big old superiority complex and I don’t feel bad about it in the slightest.

1. It all started in 2000. I don’t remember the exact details but I remember going to McDonalds and coming out with a conviction. I used to love McDonalds, in the adolescent way of loving everything “cool”. But somewhere along the way I realized that every time I ate at McDonalds, I came out feeling shitty. Greasy. Disgusting. So I stopped. It’s been 7 years and the smell of McDonalds fries wafting on the breeze (how does McDonalds do it? You can smell those fries for miles!) can make me feel nauseous. I have since become a vegetarian and with the exception of Subway (which hasn’t made me feel very good the last few times I went), I no longer spend money at any of the major fast food venues. I won’t even buy a drink. And I feel damn good about that.
2. If you want to see the ugliest face I can make, just mention the word – WALMART! It’s making me shudder even to type it. I hate everything about Walmart. I hate that they make more money than most countries in the world, but they still bully companies. By that I mean, if a company wants to charge higher prices so they don’t employ children or sweat shop labour, Walmart will stop buying from them, effectively forcing them to use terrible labour practices. Heaven forbid that some American pays 2 cents more, who cares about Chinese children. I hate that they place their huge ugly stores on the outskirts of town, leading to urban sprawl, and increased traffic. I hate that Walmart is the scene of consumerism at its worst, low paid employees and frenzied shoppers. I hate that Walmart doesn’t feel the need to pay female employees the same as male, or have females as managers. I could go on, but really, I just HATE everything to do with Walmart. I won’t even go in their stores, because the lights, I swear, inspire a fog of the mind that puts you in the perfect mode to buy, buy, buy without thinking. Of all things in the world, I hate Walmart the most. End of statement.
3. Coming from a former b-baller, it may be strange that I don’t buy from Nike. I used to. I used to have new basketball runners every year and I insisted on Nike. Jordan knows best, can’t argue with him. All my workout gear was Nike. But really, everyone knows that despite huge profits the people who make the shoes only make pennies. I can’t have that on my conscience. Now, nothing I own has Nike and I try to steer clear of all major athletic brands that choose to pay huge endorsements to whiny basketball stars rather than their own workers.
4. Shell is a terrible company and they don’t even try to hide it. In a day and age when alternative fuels have become a catch phrase, Shell doesn’t even pretend to care. It reeks havoc in South America all for the all mighty dollar. A geologist who was investigating Shell in the Amazon went mysteriously missing. Coincidence? I don’t know. I’d rather get an empty tank and have to push my car for kilometers than fill up at a Shell station. But, I don’t own a car, so I really don’t have to worry much about this one.
5. Starbucks. Why is it suddenly the thing, to walk around in Lululemon gear and have a Starbucks coffee cup in your hand? When did Starbucks become the status symbol for young urbans? Why are there 5 Starbucks in downtown Victoria alone? Starbucks in theory should be good. They support fair-trade. But from what I understand, it’s one hardly bought coffee a month. Why support fair-trade and then put three stores that run at a loss around a local funky shop? I don’t drink Starbucks but I hear it isn’t even good coffee. Why is it everywhere then? I swear, it’s a conspiracy. Just wish I could figure out what kind of conspiracy.
6. This is my newest one, and it makes me so sad to say it but here goes – Cadbury. Cadbury, the makers of so many delicious chocolate creations. Cadbury, the company that employs child labour in the Ivory Coast. I can not in good conscious buy from a company that dose that. Even if they do make those tiny eggs at Easter. And so many of the chocolates at Halloween. I’m proud to say, that there were tons of Cadbury around the office the other day and I didn’t partake. I did eat other candy which is bad, because Cadbury isn’t the only company that uses children to harvest cocoa. It’s just the first one I heard about.

Hey, I don’t expect you to join in my boycotts. Just don’t expect me to join in your merry displays of consumerism gone bad. Don’t even expect me to join in the using of the air of some of these places. I’m stubborn. And damn proud of it.

So needless to say, I didn’t get anything when Tawny offered. What’s the point of having convictions if you cave when someone else offers to get something for you? Fortunately, being lazy goes nicely with convictions, or at least mine, because to fulfill them, I don't do anything.

S.