Down & Out in London

I got back last week from an amazing visit home to Vancouver, which was incredibly rushed and stressful and busy, but also fantastic and rewarding and great. Being home made me realize how much better my quality of life would be if I moved back. Vancouver is such a beautiful, special place, and things would be a million times easier if I went home. But while I tremendously miss friends and family and the delights of the city, I know that Vancouver isn't going anywhere. And the only thing that got me on the plane back to London was knowing that I always have the opportunity to life in Vancouver. I won't always have the opportunity to be elsewhere.

And really, I think the last thing I need right now is the comfort and safety of home. As much as I want it, as much as I want to feel safe and secure, I know that continuing the struggle is probably going to reap the best rewards. I need to fight these battles. These are the adventures I need to learn from, this is how I'm going to fill my mind with characters and stories, ideas and inspiration.

I hate living the life of a vagrant, which is what I've basically become as of late. I want my own room, my own safe quiet space. I don't want to be a burden to friends, and I don't want to continually feel uprooted, adrift. But this is just for a season, and I know that it is offering me opportunities that I would otherwise not gain. I'm starting an internship for the next few weeks at the BFI London Film Festival. November, I'm thinking seriously about arranging a research trip for a project I'm working on, which is something I could potentially only really do under these circumstances. A lot of good can come from this period, I just need to try and not be so disheartened. Things will pick up and carry on.

On layovers, long and short...

I've been in Vancouver for a few weeks now, after a weekend in Toronto and a quick stop in San Francisco on my way back over.  I've been plugging away slowly at my dissertation (ahhh!!! two weeks to go!!!) and trying to keep my chin up in the face of a heavy heart and a tired mind.  

The last month has been pretty rough-and-tumble.  But I'm putting the pieces back together.  Or life is, anyway.  It's good to be home.  It's good to be with family I love, and friends I love, in a place that I love.  

I'm going to be just fine, I'm sure.  Until I'm not again.  And the journey continues...

Vancouver

Keats Island

Keats Island

San Francisco

Toronto

An Ode To Vancouver (at yet another departure)

I spent my last evening in Vancouver catching up with a dear old friend, Diana (something that appears to be becoming a bit of a tradition, as I also spent my last evening in the city in the fall with her before moving to London). It was nice to catch up; I like listening to her, and sharing my ideas with her; I value her friendship and her complete lack of judgement and pretension. She is going to be a lawyer, but she can also appreciate the beauty in a poem and a sunset. That is why we get along so well.

After our coffees (and buying a hip, red, vintage shoulder bag at True Value Vintage) I headed to Six Acres in Gastown for goodbye drinks with friends. I love that place a lot (exposed brick, airy windows facing Gastown’s lovely main square, great international beer list, cute hipster servers, menus bound in vintage children books, and dramatic readings of Doctor Seuse books playing in the restrooms). I love my friends too - gathering a group of a dozen lovely and loved people together in my favourite (former) hang-out warms the heart. It was a nice last night.

And as things go, the snow that has hounded me during the last couple weeks turned to rain yesterday, with balmy 6-degree weather finally melting away the feet(!) of snow that has handicapped this lovely (normally warm) city; pushing the white horror far, far back into the forgettable minds of disgruntled Vancouverites. I knew it would turn right, rightwhen I was leaving. But the snow made me spend time with family instead of friends; at home instead of at my island cabin or at the bar. That, retrospectively, was important. I love my grandparents and my parents and my sister very much, and I needed that time with them. That time won’t always be there.

And today, after driving through the fast decaying remains of snow drifts on the way to the airport, a promising brightness emerged in the sky. And - quite fittingly - the sun burst through the clouds as I was sitting on the tarmac at YVR, waiting to take off for New York City. Vancouver was returning to normal, right as I was returning to London.

Vancouver, you are a cheeky dame, and I love how you make me work for it. And I realize that I no longer have to say goodbye to your frosted mountains, blue waves, gentle beaches and glass towers, because a piece of me remains behind with them every time I leave, waiting to be reunited and made whole when life brings me back... home.

Vancouver Is Just a (beautiful) Place

If there is anything Christmas has been this year, it's snowy. Inconveniently snowy. Snow everywhere! Snow always! Snow snow snow!

After a cold 2 days stopping over in Toronto, I was looking forward to balmy Vancouver, but I arrived home to record low temperatures and historically high accumulations of snow. Shit - it was crazy! It's finally starting to melt, leaving pools of slush and brown water on the streets of Vancouver. Not romantic, but at least I can leave the driveway now.

I'm sitting in a cafe on Commercial Drive right now, sipping tea and thinking about things. I love travel because I feel like it offers a chance for me to objectively see my world; the distance allows me to gain perspective on my own life. Being in Vancouver has given me a bit of that perspective. Which scares me, I suppose, as that makes it feel all the more like I'm a visitor here. It doesn't feel so much like coming home, as it does like I'm a guest in a place I used to live.

After living in Singapore, returning to Vancouver was a real homecoming. I still had another year of University left after my return, and all my friends were still here. Even though Singapore became my home while I was away, Vancouver still embraced me as home when I came back. Now I'm visiting for the holidays, with no intention to move back anytime soon. I suppose that's the reason I feel like a guest: it doesn't seem like home because I don't see myself here anymore. Or because I don't want to see myself here.

I'm meeting a former love interest for tea at this cafe in a few minutes. How does one greet someone that one used to love (ish), and then didn't, and now doesn't? And how do you greet them for the first time after not seeing them since the time when things were very, very different? With a hug? A kiss on the cheek? ... A handshake?

Life is so awkward. Blurg.