Inspired by recent posts from Matt Good and Raspberry, I’ve been thinking about the city I live in, and how different it is from the city they seem to inhabit - even though they’re one in the same.

I live in Kits, on 4th at Macdonald. I’ve only been there for about 4 months, but I’ve spoken to more of my neighbours in this place, than in the entire four years I lived in an apartment in Burnaby. I still don’t own a tiny dog or any Lululemon (because seriously, $90 for sweatpants? I have other priorities). Everyone I’ve met seems perfectly down to earth. Sure, there are lots of muscle-bound meatheads, and fake-breasted tarts I end up wandering past, but I rarely actually encounter them doing anything other than working on their tans - our paths rarely cross in any sort of meaningful way.

When Neil and I go to the beach or dog park, people are really friendly, exclaim over how pretty Sasha is, and all the dogs play together - instead of people sneering at us as we pick up after her, or shying away from her because she’s not a handbag dog.

When I walk into a store in the neighbourhood - chain or otherwise - I’m generally welcomed and the staff make small-talk with me about the weather, the neighbourhood, or whatever’s on their mind. I’m remembered after one or two visits, and they’re helpful (and not in that “commission making” way) more often than not.

I feel like I belong here.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I’ll tell you that Neil and I are bona-fide, certified yuppies. dinks. grups. We have a combined income that affords us a nice rental apartment now as well as the purchase of a new home next year. We can take modest vacations, eat at nice restaurants every once in a while, maintain somewhat expensive hobbies (rowing, skiing, snowboarding, diving) and occasionally splurge on something we enjoy (usually edible, drinkable, gadgety or sparkly). We’re by no means rich, and struggle like anyone else with the balance between maintaining the life we enjoy, paying the bills, and planning for the future.

We have a diverse group of friends - some of them far ahead of us in their financial situation, some of them far behind.

The most important thing is that it doesn’t define who we are or who we interact with. I can honestly say that the quality of life I had when I was just out of University, earning a fraction of what I currently do, is just as good now as it was then. Different of course - with different ambitions and goals and plans, but still good. The biggest difference is that now I’m at a point where I’m getting ahead and expanding my goals for the future, rather than living paycheque to paycheque. I know the nature of the neighbourhood I live in means that a reasonably high income is required in order to pay the rent. But I’ve met just as many quality people here as I have anywhere.

I find the city far friendlier than the suburbs. If I am considered different, it’s attributed to diversity, instead of a lack of personal ability to “keep up with the Joneses” or a values system that’s considered “wrong.”

There are certainly a number of cold, calculating, opportunistic, shallow people in Vancouver. What do you expect when you live in a world-class city which offers the amenities and accessories those people typically measure their worth by?

I choose to accept their existence as a necessary side-effect of living in Vancouver, and choose largely to ignore them. Their existence is not something I aspire to - and I choose in this situation is to accept them as things I can not change, and to change the things I can have an impact on - my own attitude and experience.

Matt laments about the lack of an edge or a music scene in the city. I’ll admit straight away that I didn’t live downtown during the days the Town Pump was around, and only know Yaletown from the days when it was just beginning its process of gentrification.

Nonetheless, I have friends who call and ask if I’m going to see a show by a relatively unknown, but unquestionably talented band at the Railway, or the Media Club. Or witness a new up-and-coming act who can still fit their growing fanbase into a venue as small as the Commodore. New music and underground talent is available if you seek and support it. Such is the case with so many things. Seek and you will find. But the seeking part is absolutely necessary.

Raspberry notes that she doesn’t have any meaningful relationships with people who are “from here.” I would argue that it’s not the people who are “from here” that make the city what it is, but the people who “live here now” - regardless of how or when they arrived within the city limits. I have friends that fall within both groups, with backgrounds as diverse as anyone could imagine. Their personalities and experiences, not the cities on their birth certificates, are what make them special and what draws them here.

Vancouver certainly is a finicky city - she’ll only reciprocate with as much as you give her. She reflects back to you what you expect to see in her. If you surround yourself with the shallow, uncaring, cold and superficial people that have also decided to call the city home; if you project your expectations of this still-evolving city’s past, and the personalities of other cities on Vancouver you’re far more likely to be disillusioned with and feel alienated by her.

However, try instead to look up at the mountains and out at the ocean and take a minute to take it all in. Say “hi” to your neighbours. Smile first, instead of only in return, when you pass someone on the street. Welcome your friends into your home with a warm hug and some cool wine. Relax in the sun. Dance in the rain. Take a moment to catch an all-too-rare snowflake on your tongue when they do fall. Go out and try something new - a new store, street, restaurant, sport or see a band you’ve never heard of. The city offers nearly endless possibilities for exploration and experiences. Don’t wait to be welcomed and embraced by the city. Embrace her despite herself, and she’ll reward you tenfold.

And then maybe you, like me, will feel the true spirit of Vancouver within you too. And feel a surge of emotion and affection for this place that finally, like no other, feels like home.

Tagged by Raspberry, I present:

Eight things you (probably) don’t know about me

1. I don’t like Cilantro. But I eat it anyway, because it’s mostly impossible to have Mexican food without it.

2. I don’t actually work better under pressure - I’m just such a procrastinator that I’m used to doing it and have become just as effective working under deadline stress as not.

3. I start most days by picking my nose. It gets dry and crusty in there overnight, ok! Don’t judge - I know you do it too.

4. I regularly conduct my life as if I have an audience, like I’m some character on a sit-com or something.

5. My house never looks as clean as it does when you see it. But I won’t ever let you see my mess, so you can pretend it looks that good all the time!

6. I didn’t actually lose that 35lbs a couple years ago by monitoring my diet and exercise. I did try Weight Watchers, and put a lot of their suggestions into practice for matintenance - but I only actually lost about 8 lbs on the program. The weight loss actually came from a result of changing the way I conducted my entire life because I actually started liking myself again. I became more socially and physically active, stopped worrying about food or what other people thought of me, and suddenly the pounds just kinda melted away. I don’t usually tell anyone that, because it’s hard to explain, and I don’t think they really believe me anyway.

7. The real reason I hate flying is because it really messes with my digestive system. The combination of dehydration and being wedged into an uncomfortable seated position is so bad that every 3 hours on a plane is one day on the ground that I don’t poop (just imagine what that 11 hour flight to Korea did to me!) Then my body spends the next week being bloated and trying to regulate itself. Usually just in time for me to get back on a plane to fly home and repeat the entire process.

8. Those days when I tell my boyfriend at dinner I’m “not really that hungry” it’s not usually because I’m just generally not hungry - it’s probably because in the 40 minutes between when I got home from work and when he got home from work, I ate half a dozen cookies or a KD Easy Mac. Because I was hungry, and went and did something about it. I really can’t help it! The cookies… they call to me….

Being pulled out of a Visio-Induced Flow-Chart stupor by the cell phone, when it is the boyfriend on the other line, with the notification that that the power at his office is out, and the sun is shining and everyone is going to the beach, and could I cut out of work early and come along? and the answer is no, no I am stuck here wearing a jacket and hugging a steaming teacup in my over a/c’d office where I am currently up to my eyeballs in predefined processes and loop limits and terminators and I most certainly can not.

That’s me in the purple.

Congrats to the new Mr. and Mrs. Mayer!

Also, my speech made the bride cry - I win!

More photos here.

Hi Guy,

I don’t know your name, or what your business is. Except that it requires you to answer your cell phone. A lot.

Then take it for a wander past my office door into the hallway. Which is also adjacent to my office. And the walls? They are thin. And the door from the offices into the hallway (which - you guessed it - next to my office) chimes every. Single. Time. Someone goes through it.

Bottom line: I hear you talking. And the door chiming. All. Damn. Day.

Do you have reception problems? Because I’m guessing it’s better in your office than in the hallway. Or maybe get a better phone? Or use your office phone?

Perhaps you like the exercise? May I recommend a treadmill? Or perhaps a gym membership? I know we all like to multitask, but I promise you, your workout and your work will be far more effective if you just focus on one or the other.

What I’m saying, Guy in the Office Next Door, is maybe it’s time for you to have a nice cup up sit the hell down and shut the fuck up.

Kisses!
-Jen

Thank god I wasn’t expecting to birth my (likely not-so-) immaculately conceived (and thankfully non-existent) child any time soon, because while on our wee excursion, Neil and I broke the (until that point rumoured but not really believed) 11th commandment:

Thou Shalt Not Arrive in Tofino and Expect to Find Suitable Accommodations if Thou Hast Not Booked WELL IN ADVANCE!

That rule holds up doubly so if thou hast a dog as thine travel companion.

We (foolishly) figured that the whole “All of Tofino books up ahead of time” thing was just an overblown rumour, and decided to chance our luck with just “showing up” anyway. After all, it was mid-week and nowhere near a long weekend.

Boy were we wrong!

The Scene went something like this:

We eventually stayed at a somewhat scuzzed out motel in the middle of town and snuck the dog in the back door.

For those not in the know: the actual town of Tofino blows goats. The beaches and campgrounds are where it’s at. Unfortunately, with no reservations or plans on what we were doing or how long we were staying, we didn’t get to enjoy them at all.

Thankfully we did salvage a couple fantastic meals out of it all (I highly recommend UpStairs for dinner and Schooners for breakfast), and got to poke around at the Long Beach Lodge Resort, and the Wickaninnish Inn. We were surprised that even the two priciest locations in Tofino were completely sold out for the week - but they’re both gorgeous and we do have plans to go back.

And we’ll definitely remember to call first next time!

Remember the cranky from a couple days ago? I decided to hedge my bets on it being brought about by the dog hair thing.

I’m pretty sure I was right.

I went out after work the next day and purchased a brand! new! blue! Hoover EmPower, and proceeded to do exactly what the box said - just add dirt!

That picture of the canister up there was what we sucked up, just in the BEDROOM. A measly 200 of our 1000 square foot mostly carpeted home. After swiping over only about six inches of the floor, Neil actually asked why the hoover people would put a ball of twine in the canister.

I’m pretty sure that was about the time I flipped out and screamed “DOG HAIR DOG HAIR DOG HAIR! DO YOU SEE NOW WHY I HAVE BEEN COMPLAINING ABOUT THE DOG HAIR??!?!?!?! OMGWTFBBQ!!!!1111ELEVEN!”

And to address Brigette’s query on another one of the flickr photos (oh yes, there’s more evidence of the grossness!) - we DO clean. It’s just that my previous vacuum sucks. Or doesn’t, as the case may be. You see, it was a hand-me-down from my parents. All I really remember about it is that when they moved into a new house in 1993, they were really excited about having a built-in vacuum system, since that unit (13 years ago already) was horrible and dying.

I really should’ve replaced it loooooong ago, but when you’re a student, then paying off student loans, there are always more exciting things to spend $150 on than cleaner floors in a rental apartment.

However, when you’re in the throes of domesticity in your mid-20’s, few things bring greater joy. Especially when they come with a hearty helping of boyfriend directed “I TOLD YOU SO!”

I know a blow-by-blow breakdown of things that I did on my luxurious week of unemployment/vacation isn’t really interesting to anyone except those who were there - so I won’t torture you.

However, there are a few very important lessons I learned while on my “fly by the seat of your pants” whirlwind tour of the Sunshine Coast & Vancouver Island. And I’d love to share one of them with you:

First off, Travelling with no schedule, planned destnation, accommodations booked or firm dates for anything in mind is a good idea… in principle. In reality, it’s a great way to see things you hadn’t expected, but a challenging way to conduct a vacation. The stress of hunting down a place to lay our weary heads each night took away significantly from the “relaxation” factor we’d been striving for.

Compounding this is the realization we came to that one should never, EVER, travel with a dog without having accommodations booked ahead of time. I don’t want to sound like one of those people who feels their dog should be allowed everywhere they go so far as into restaurants, stores, etc. but the complete lack of pet-friendly accommodations available is pretty astounding. Hotels that allow dogs seem to only have about 5-7% of their rooms available for the furry beasties, and even if they do have rooms available, the pet rooms go quickly.

Someone actually asked us on our travels “Why’d you bring your dog on vacation anyway?” I just sat dumbfounded with my mouth agape, though Neil was quick in responding (loudly, over the questioner’s screaming, unruly brats running amok through the Tim Hortons - as our dog laid quietly outside the window we were sitting next to) “Why’d you bring your kids on vacation?” and the question-asker was left speechless. And really, that’s what it’s all about. Not everyone likes kids, or dogs, or your drunk Uncle Bob who pinches the waitresses ass and spills his dinner and pukes in the flowerbeds more often than not. But for whatever reason, people enjoy travelling with them and would like to spend their vacation with their family and companions.

The biggest anti-pet justification I heard was “allergies” - and sure, people’s allergies to pet-hair are a valid concern. But really? Don’t hotels vacuum the rooms and change the sheets and towels between guests anyway? And I’d argue that there are more dog owners than those severely allergic to pet dander in this world. And I’d bet that those who are so allergic to pet dander that they can’t be in a room that a dog has been in, ever, are probably allergic to a lot of other things as well. Why not book 5-7% of your rooms as “allergen-free” rooms and outlaw pets, plants, perfumes and peanut products in them.

Most responsible dog owners are generally happy to pay the nominal pet-fee that’s usually tacked onto the regular room rate already, and nobody I know would balk at agreeing to have a pet-charge added to their bill after checkout for any damage their animal may cause. In addition to this, 99% of places already have rules in place that you can’t leave your pet in the room alone anyway - so the risk of any pet damage (save for an indoor accident - and really… have you seen a baby diaper malfunction lately? not much matches the foulness of that) is really, really minimal.

Then there are the places who specify that they only take “small pets.” I’d bet anyone any amount of money that my 70lb cross-breed is better behaved than most of the purebread calf-high hatebeasts you throw at it. Just because you can put your dog in your purse when it starts causing trouble, doesn’t mean you don’t have to train it.

Uhm…. wow, that got ranty.

But really, what’s so wrong with wanting to bring the 4-legged member of my family along with me when I take a road trip? I’m not putting her in a crate on a plane, or asking for her to sit in a restaurant, or go on an amusement park ride, or wag her hairy tail through your racks of clothes or souvenirs, or terrorize your pets in your home. I just want her to have a safe place to sleep at night after we’ve wandered around enjoying the scenery and contributing to bottom line of your business and the economy of your town.

I suppose I have become one of those people who expects the rest of the world to accommodate my child dog when I choose to take her out with me in what I would think are appropriate situations. But really - considering my dog is cleaner, better behaved, and frankly better looking than most people’s children… is that such a bad thing?

I am nonspecifically cranky.

Perhaps it’s the mountain of unfolded laundry.

Perhaps it’s the state of mess this place is in (a product, I should note, significantly of my own doing).

Perhaps it’s stress from the amount of change I’ve experienced over the past few weeks.

Perhaps it’s a side effect of the headache I’ve had for a couple days with no discernable cause or cure (so far it doesn’t respond to treatments for hangover, dehydration, eye strain or musculoskeletal ailments - or Advil for that matter).

Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m pretty damn hungry, and totally uninspired by and uninterested in eating any food that’s readily accessible (read: in the fridge or cupboards) or procuring more.

Perhaps it’s because the level of dog hair in my world surpassed what I’d call critical mass a looooooong time ago.

Whatever it is, I’d certainly like it to go away now, or at least come up with a clear direction so I could stop with the nonspecific ramblings.

At least so far it’s provided me with another day of content.

Tomorrow: either more bitching, or something nice about lessons learned while I was on vacation.

Which would you prefer?

Borrowing a page from Sue, I give you the Readers’ Digest version of what I’ve been up to the past week:

Approx. Kilometers Driven: 1200
Ferries Taken: 4
Coasts visited: 3 (mainland west coast, island east coast, island west coast)
Minutes waited in line for the Earl’s Cove-Powell River ferry: 4
Nights gone: 6
Hotels Stayed in: 5
Hotels the dog was snuck into because no pet-friendly rooms were available: 2
Destinations we’re already planning to return to for more extended stays: 2
Number of times our plans changed: 3
Wineries visited: 9
Wines tasted: too many to count
Corked wines served: one - which is one too many!
Bottles of wine purchased: 20
Cideries visited: 1
Bottles of cider purchased: 6
Cheeseries visited: 2 (Chris & Jill: Nancy @ Little Qualicum says “hi!”)
Cheeses purchased: 2
Chickens caught: 1 (and nothing is hotter than a city boy exhibiting his farming prowess by effortlessly scooping up barnyard fowl!)
Vinegaries visited: 1
Bottles of Ancient process Balsamic Vinegar purchased: 1
Number of times I’ve had to hold myself back from coating myself in the vinegar and licking it all off: countless
Hours waited in line for the Departure Bay-Horseshoe Bay ferry: 4
Hours of sleep caught up on: enough. finally, finally enough.
Scrambled eggs waiting for me to finish blogging: 2

Which means I’m going to go have some breakfast, and hopefully post some pictures and stories during the week.

Oh no she didn’t!

Oh yes I did!

This is what happens when I’ve already mentally checked out of a job, and people aren’t updating their blogs fast enough.

Neil, will you ever forgive me?

Hello. My you look lovely today! Your hair is so shiny, and have you lost weight?

I know. I haven’t updated in a while, so here’s a summation life in recent days, in bullet points, since nothing has been exciting enough to write about on its own:

And that’s pretty much got you caught up. Anything you think I forgot? How are all of you doing?

When you consolidate two households into one, there are inevitably a few things you end up with duplicates of. Microwaves are a big one - and impossible to get rid of (seriously, does anyone want a free microwave?) since most people seem to have one. Another is services - I cancelled my internet service and renter’s insurance with little issue. And yesterday the boy called to cancel his vonage phone, since I already have one, along with a two month referral credit.

And here is where we find out that there is a communication service out there that GETS IT and actually rewards LOYALTY instead of just new customer signups!

When Neil phoned to cancel his Vonage phone, and gave the reason that we already have one (and mine has some free time coming to me), the good people at Vonage really rolled out the red carpet!

Instead of cancelling Neil’s service, they upgraded him from the 500 minutes/month plan to the unlimited plan, and gave him four free months of service. Then, as if that weren’t enough, they asked him for MY Vonage number, and did the same thing to my account! That means I’ve currently got 6 months of service credit on my account right now. And more North America-wide long distance service than I can shake a stick (or even many sticks) at.

Compare that to the current policies of companies such as Telus, Telus Mobility or Shaw. In the 8 or so years I was a customer with all of them, new customers have been offered:

Never have I been able to access any of these “new” signup bonuses. My loyalty was rewarded exactly ONCE by Telus Mobility - they sent me a wired jabra hands-free headset. A $20 piece of uselessness for being a customer for FIVE years. I’d have really preferred the $20.

With Vonage, they not only “saved” a nearly cancelled account by crediting Neil for four months, they also rewarded our initial and planned loyalty on my account as well.

And now they get a highly favourable blog post, and more recommendations to any friends that I haven’t harrassed yet to sign up for their service.

If you wanna try it out, come on over to my place and bask in the glory of the unlimited long-distance.

And can I interest you in a microwave while you’re here?