Day 191
Today will officially be known and celebrated (Canadians love their holidays) as the day I made my very first visit to a Canadian doctor. Let's do a little comparison:
Waiting rooms:
U.S.: Theysuck as they are stifling and dark, full of terribly ill people and full of ancient furniture.
Canada: Nice new age-y furniture, comfortable, lots of windows, and filled with minorly ill people.
Receptionist/Check-in type people:
U.S.: Cranky, treat you like you don't know how to spell 'egg', underpaid, under-smoke-breaked, impatient, condescending, makes you fill out really long forms, and most importantly they have the air of being people who know they weren't destined to do this line of work but were stuck with it.
Canada: Friendly, laughs at jokes, makes you fill out short forms and understand when you fuck up the signature line, if you tell them you are in a hurry they don't act like you are an inconvenience--they help you, faster, and they look like the type of people who when they were kids and were confronted with the, "What do you wanna be when you grow up question?" they would say, "I don't really know, all I know is that I want to help people."
Billing:
U.S.: Talking to the people about billing can take longer than your appointment and leave you wondering why you didn't just suffer out the bronchitis because at least then you could've paid rent on time.
Canada: When I asked the charming front desk ladies they responded with smiles and said, "You have insurance, you don't have to pay."
Waiting Time:
U.S.; You wait so long that not only do you imagine what illnesses the 15 other people in the waiting room have, but you imagine how they got them, who they are married to and what they were like as teenagers.
Canada: Spent nearly the same amount of time waiting, but imagined that they were talking others in front of you, although you'd been there first. Sent 18 text messages. Watched 8 minutes of news on the TV.
Doctors:
U.S.: Can't understand them. They have bad breath and poke you.
Canada: No bad breath, no poking, and they enunciate.
On the whole very impressive. It is now official: I must marry into this country.
I don't know anything about tarot card reading. All I know is mine were read today. But, I think if the first card you get is a devil card and a little further down the line you get the death card you are not in a good spot. Guess who isn't in a good spot. Anyway, apparently if I unblock myself from horrible things everything will be fine, but the cards didn't explain how to unblock myself. But who knows the whole thing could be bullshit, especially because it was done by a friend of mine who was at the bottom of a wine bottle and performing the card recitation over video chat.
What does it mean when you spend most of your morning video chatting with your brother who continuously shows you how he can stamp things? Granted his stamper was a year in the making it says, "ANDY APPROVED." He showed me what it looked like on all sorts of paper and even on a table fan. He even held up a paper and stamped his side so I could see what the other side of the paper looked like when it was being stamped. We moved on to making our driver's licenses our faces by holding them in front of the camera, and then our student cards became us. A considerable amount of time (5 minutes) was spent having my brother line up his picture head line up with his actual neck. After that exciting adventure he showed me his collection of knives. He also showed me how he was making mac and cheese. It was my job to watch the water boil. He also showed me his new fridge by putting his laptop inside of it, and my favorite part was when he took me to the bathroom to show me his new toilet seat. I am so glad to have such an exciting brother. Video chatting is so fun I may never move back.
Is it weird to go to a regional spelling bee of kids you don't know? This question has been plaguing my mind since breakfast. In the newspaper this morning there was a fancy, color section of the paper featuring a photo of every one of the 70 contestants in the bee. A friend of mine showed it to me and suggested we go check it out. I have been curious ever since. Curious and remembering two things: 1. Spellbound the amazing spelling bee documentary. and 2. The full name of the kid who beat me out of getting to the regional spelling bee. I also remembered that we all used to call him "The Snowman" because he had bad dandruff. And, once him and his creepy sister got sprayed by a skunk one morning, but got on the school bus anyhow. Anyway, after thinking about attending this spelling bee I was wondering if it made me a creeper? But, I know I can never be nearly as creepy as the guy who held up the newspaper and said, "I think I am gonna put these kids up on my wall for inspiration."
I learned a very important lesson today. Instead of being totally embarrassed and denying that you like a guy that you actually do like when your co-worker tells him (in front of you) that you have been asking about him, admit that you think have been asking about him because you miss him and want him around. Sure it may embarrass the shit out of you and possibly the only guy you have a crush on, but at least it will make the creepy old chef leave you be. Well, hopefully he'll take the hint. If anything else maybe the guy you have a crush on, if he's not gay or taken (yeah, right), will ask you out. Not that I would know for sure, but I can always imagine I admitted my feelings and got asked out by the cute, quiet guy who laughs at my jokes and would never ask me out even if he liked me, because he is shy.
Tip of the Day: When someone reads your tarot and you get the Hermit card it means; stay in your room and watch TV.
-Canadian Castaway
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