Jet Pack Blues

So, hey, I live in another province now. 

I’ve affectionately coined it “the cow province from Hell,” mostly because I don’t know what time it is, Erica & I still aren’t in the same time zone & I don’t actually have furniture. Or Internet, and I won’t have Internet for another two days because apparently my ISP is…special. And I only know three people. Fortunately, they’re the raddest people & have helped my navigate my way around & sat up late talking to me because my circadian is completely off & I’m terrified that I’ve ruined my life. No matter where I go, I’m always blessed to have the greatest friends & loved ones who make me feel completely at ease. And I am grateful. And I thank them so much. 

The other bonus is that I’m getting right into work writing, which was the point of this entire exercise; I want to be a writer & a damn good one (please don’t gauge my body of work from this blog, I’m a really good writer, I promise). Once I settle into my real people job on top of writing locally & not remotely, juggling time zones & trying to make Western Canadians understand my Ontario area code while balancing no sleep & work. I can expand my portfolio while continuing to inch closer to the goal of finally landing my dream job of full time reporter. 

In the interim, I figured I’d regail you with a photo essay of my travels, because as I’ve mentioned, I’m the worst traveller ever. If you missed my epic live tweet, where I inadvertently offended WestJet among other gems, here’s the Coles’ Notes version, while I try to find food. And maybe an air mattress because sleeping on the hardwood floor sounds awful. 

 

Big ups to my cat, who stopped trying to claw her way to freedom & accepted her fate of travel

 

 

How normal people see the view from the plane

 
How MH sees it
  

Dear Calgary, when I finally found coffee in your airport, I almost stopped hating you

 
I like to offend my friend Paul

 
Airplanes aren’t so bad when you have 900 songs to listen to. These were my albums of choice. I should probably finally admit that Fallout Boy doesn’t suck anymore, but I refuse to let Alys win.
 
 
Peachy survived the flight & learned she likes luxe hotels
  
 
And WestJet gets offended when I call them cheap for not having wifi
 
 
And I learned that jet lag sucks & the struggle is real

 
But I found nature, so I am good
 
So, what’s next? I guess conquer everything! Climb a Rocky Mountain, dominate in my own adorably flighty way! Or maybe just painting & actually getting some sleep. Either way, the mind numbing terror has subsided & I’m suddenly feeling okay with this. I’ll adjust. Things are fine. And I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted because life sometimes surprises me in ways I never expected & things just work out in the most beautiful ways & I am very happy. Terrified, but truly happy. Of course, I’ll be happier when this reaches zero: 
  

So, in the meantime, I’ll just continue to work on the list that I made for myself to adjust into Western life.  

I guess it should say “additional people I don’t hate.”

 And it will all work out. And I will be successful & happy. And my girls can finally be proud of me & I’ll be the role model they deserve & worthy of the honour of being their mother. Or I’ll have completely fucked up my life & I’ll end up in a box fort! 

We’ll see. 

And I’ll still dress like a slob. It’ll be rad

Don’t

Let me tell a story.

In January 2013, Justin Timberlake announced his 20/20 Experience tour. As a long time Timberlake fan, from back to his Mr. Noodle headed N*Sync days, I frantically called my now former best friend and told him we were going. He flatly said he wasn’t a big enough Timberlake fan to go, so no, we weren’t. It wasn’t worth his money, even though I thought it’d be fun.

Fast forward to a few months later, when the Great Gatsby, one of my all time favourite books, was released on film. I begged all of my friends to go with me, pleaded & maybe even whined. To this day, I have not seen Gatsby, as anyone who knows me knows I prefer the movie theatre experience so I rarely watch movies @ home. I was so disappointed that no one would attend the movie with me, just because it wasn’t their film choice.

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I have a point, I promise.

Three days before I moved, Ed Sheeran announced his concert pre-sale. I love Ed, and have even written entire blog posts dedicated to my love for him. I actually took out a cash advance (which I’ve since paid off) so I wouldn’t affect my moving fund to buy the tickets. Zero effs given. I offered up the ticket & was met with the usual “No, I don’t like him. I’m not going. I don’t care that the ticket is free.” My good friend Shannon agreed to go but couldn’t at the last minute. With the exception of an old Sutherland friend, a coworker, & Damanda (who all had scheduling conflicts), I had no volunteers. I was about to sell my tickets on Kijiji, when my good friend the Texan suggested I just go anyway. I thought about it. I had been excited for six months, and booked my travel & hotel. Why not?

So I went. I went shopping, I saw Ed & my life was complete (until the next live act I need to see goes on tour).

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But how many times have we all done that, skipped something we really wanted to do just because we don’t have a friend or partner to go with us? I can think of so many movies I didn’t see because my friends or person I was seeing at the time didn’t want to go, so I missed out. I’m a social person; I love company. But, seeing as all of my London friends either a) work crazy hours like me or b) work the same shift as me because they work with me, I needed to get over the idea that I need someone to come to a movie with me to keep up some kind of appearance to strangers. Who cares? It’s no one’s fault but mine that I missed Gatsby. I could have just gone, right? But I didn’t. And had I sold my tickets, I would be kicking myself for missing Ed. Instead I went shopping, brought home great gifts for my girls & swag for my coworkers & a great shirt to wear to my birthday party tomorrow. But most importantly, I saw a great concert & had a wonderful time. Now I’m heading home to work a short shift & enjoy my family. All good things. Did I mention I sold my extra ticket & made a nice profit? Because I totally did.

So, don’t let messed up plans or lack of interest deter you from what YOU want to do. Go to that concert solo, go to that movie. Dinner for one? Heck yes! The only person who will miss out is you, so suck up the insecurities & have a blast!

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Day Eight: Where I’ve Been…& Where I’d Like to Go

I must confess; I’m not a seasoned traveller.

I went to Vermont with my foster family when I was 15 years old & gained 10lbs eating Ben & Jerry’s. I went to Tim Horton’s Camp as a child & broke my arm & ended up with a lovely scar. But, my favourite place on that short list is Ontario Pioneer Camp.

The first time I told my foster parents that I loved them & referred to them as my family was when I left for my first trip to Girls’ Camp. It was so easy there. It was easy to be Christian; everyone was. There were no cliques. Everyone was a friend. No one disliked anyone, we all loved each other & wanted to serve God. When I became a counsellor, I loved my little campers. I loved to teach them about life, God & how to sail. Sailing was my passion there; I loved my little boats & everything about them & sometimes, when everyone was asleep, I’d sneak down to my beloved sailboats & enjoy the beauty of the lake. I loved the place so much, that I took the name of it for my eldest daughter. It was a place of peace & joy; two traits I wanted her to have (& she does…most of the time).

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But the one place I’ve always wanted to go is New Orleans. I want to go to the French Quarter, walk the old streets. I want to go to the Lestat cafe (if it’s still open) & stay in a big old hotel. I want to go to jazz clubs & old graveyards. When I got married, we were supposed to go there for our honeymoon but finances prevented it. But, I still want to go there so badly…just not during Mardi Gras.

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Of course, I also have to go to the Mercedes-Benz Superdome. My youngest daughter LOVES football. She’s a little stat quoting analyst who watches NFL AM like it’s church. Once a month I take each girl out for a day of fun and she chose to eat chicken wings and watch her team, the Saints (she also got into a very heated debate with an elderly man which ended in her saying “Mr. Man, stats can’t wie! My team is better!”). Since football is a big interest for her, it’s my job as her mother to understand & embrace her interest (well, I try. She rolls her eyes a lot & explains things many times. I feel it’s payback for the number of times I repeat ” put your backpack away”), so if I ever make it to New Orleans, we’ll be cheering Drew Brees & the Saints to victory, while she’s decked out in her official Saints cheerleading uniform.

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Speaking of understanding your child’s interests; the sometimes angry tween has begged me to take her to New Orleans all year. Of course, it’s not for the scenery, or the history, or anything like that. She wanted to go to Wrestlemania XXX, to see her idol, Divas Champion AJ Lee.

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I would like to travel to many places, but NOLA is at the top of my list. I hope to get there someday, whether it’s on my own, as part of my “dream wedding” (more on that later) or to take the tiniest princess to see her “boys,” I know I’ll get there someday.