Day 101
Tomorrow I will leave Canada for the first time. I am a little sad to be leaving everything behind and go back to a land of Wal-Marts. But, I have decided to continue my blog while I am there, assuming my parents finally get the internet. This is something they have been putting off for around a decade. This weeks excuse was, "Well, we were going to have the guy come and set it up on Tuesday but your father had a doctor appointment. But, it's almost ready." How is an internet connection, "almost ready?"
I guess there is always the public library internet what could be more fun than writing snarky things with boogery children running around? What's creepy is that some of those snotnosed brats may be the offspring of my graduating class. Seriously, did they offer a class on breeding in high school? Perhaps it is my calling to start one up called, "You do not have to procreate and you probably shouldn't." If I have to look at another facebook profile with a picture of a pregnant classmate or read a list of status updates and comments trying to decide whether or not your 4th child should have the surname of his father that you are divorcing I swear I am going to go around stabbing people with birth control shots.
Anyway, I plan to continue my blog with a new theme called, "Why I Miss Canada." I am guessing I will miss Canada because my parents don't live there. I hope I will survive the holiday mayhem without becoming an alcoholic homicidal smoker. I love my parents, but it is the type of love that could best be observed and spread through a cellphone (well, had I not killed my cellphone in a washing machine yesterday).
Today I went out to my favorite breakfast spot in town with a friend. My friend is from Iceland but she could easily pass for Canadian or American (of the US persuasion). I almost forget that she is foreign at all until moments like what happened today. Sometimes she won't know what English words mean which is fine because as writer I can explain these things and feel confident (most of the time). She asked about home fries and I explained they were diced potatoes that are fried up in the same fashion as hashbrowns. But, when she asked me what an English Muffin was all I could say was, "Like a round toast with air bubbles in it." She didn't get it and in my mind I had a breakdown, how am I supposed to write anything if I can't describe a simple food item? My depression didn't last long though, luckily we were in a restaurant so I could take a few bites of egg in hollandaise and feel much better.
You know you are addicted to a candystore when...
You go in before you leave town and when you are saying your goodbyes to the clerk you tell her, "I will miss you," and mean it.
When my friend and I were at the candystore, after just having snarfed down a enough calories to last a supermodel a year, we browsed. I started making a pile up on the counter of sweets I had to have. I noticed my friend didn't have anything I asked why and she informed me that she was too full to buy candy. Hell, if I had the ability to think like that I would be a very thin person. Instead I kept making a candy mountain and giving her the secret evil eye.
On the way back we saw a fellow resident of mine sitting in the window of a coffeeshop and popped by to say hello. He is the guy that people I work with call, "The Creeper." Anyway, he had just come back from having his longish hair chopped. I told him he looked wonderful and then the creep began. His creep is that he lays on too much detail like not only did we get the exact location of his hairstylist we also found out that he had a semi-pointy head that would make him look like a baboon if his hair was short all over we also found out that the hair place he went to was what he called, "unisex." I love that word maybe Creeper should be changed ton Awesomer. Well, I would've thought that he was awesome had it ended with the word unisex but it went on for another 20 minutes because he had to give us all the details about the bakery where he bought bread. I wonder if it is a unisex bakery.
Tonight I had my final pack of Mr. Noodles (translation: what Americans call Ramen). As usual the first few bites were delicious and then the guilt set in as all of my friends have told me many times that it is carcinogenic. So naturally when I am told not to do something that is the thing I want to do. This was the case with Mr. Noodles until I realized that slowly giving myself cancer willingly was really quite stupid. But, Mr. Noodles gave me an idea on how I can make some money in this modern world: a new version of Clue. The suspects could be: Mr. Noodles, Mr. Clean, Little Debbie, Sara Lee and Chester Cheeto. I may be onto something even though I am pretty sure Mr. Clean doesn't belong on that list (I just like his muscles).
After I finally finished all of Paris Hilton is My New BFF I tried to find another show to watch. I clicked on an episode of Peak Season thinking it would be appropriate considering my locale. All I learned from an episode of that show is that there are boys and girls in generic relationships in Whistler who like to drink and there is snow. This is further proof that Paris Hilton can put on a good show. Maybe I'll try and find a few episodes of The Simple Life.
Until next time when I am in another country (if I make the plane). Goodbye, Canada you have been quite hospitable.
-Canadian Castaway
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