Stresstember

Well, ladies and gentlemen: we have survived September.

I was telling my (former) coworker at Bard that I was working three jobs and starting school again, and she told me a friend of hers was calling the month “Stresstember.” How apt.

Thankfully – and sadly – things at Bard have wrapped up for the season, so I’m now down to two UBC jobs and my writing. And being on the board at my co-op. And leading a church small group. And, y’know, having a social life or whatever.

Also, they’re going to take my wisdom teeth out in a couple weeks.

But I don’t mean to complain – really, I’m happier busy. I’m taking an undergraduate acting class that is totally kicking my butt (this week’s revelation: I can’t lie on my back and put my arms above my head because it hurts and I am lame), and I’m chipping away at ideas whenever they come to me. There are parties and events and there is sun and there is rain and I’ll get to go home and see my family in two months.

So even if my face swells up like a chipmunk’s and I fail my theatre presentation and I don’t have another day off between now and Christmas, it’s good. I’m twenty-six, I’m healthy, and I’m trying to put the pieces together.

This is what it looks like, right?

Bye-Bye, Twenty-Five

I’m counting down my last few hours as a twenty-five-year-old.

I have mixed feeling about this birthday.  I’m officially creeping into the mid/late-twenties category, which I kind of never thought would happen.  (Thirteen-year-old me really only planned up to about twenty-one.)  Also, I was kind of hoping not to be single by this birthday.

But you can’t actually plan life.  And good things happen, no matter the numbers.

I am incredibly blessed with friends and family.  I am busy and healthy, and I have the luxury of playing around and seeing what I might make out of myself.

And I just ate fondu.  So really, all is well.

Happy birthday, me.

Peter and I won at foosball. Birthday success.

A Perfect Weekend

I have had a perfect weekend.

No such thing, you say?  Well, says I, behold the evidence.

Evidence #1: It Was Three Days Long

Thank you, Canada, for being born and allowing us to celebrate you away from work.

Evidence #2: It Involved Theatre

Friday evening, good friend Stephen and I hit up Bard on the Beach for a picnic, a tiny lecture by Artistic Director Christopher Gaze, and As You Like It in Bard’s new, immense Main Stage tent.  The production was fabulous, the company was super, and I got to bump into my (awesome) fellow Bard employees.

Side note: I biked to the site, and somehow on the way home Stephen and I managed to lose both my helmet and my bike lock.  Now, normally this would be a major minus for any potentially perfect weekend – I commute to work via bike now (I know!!), so without a shell for my melon, I feel a little uncertain on the roads (plus, I could get ticketed).  Total inconvenience.  But I hardly minded – the weekend was that good.

Evidence #3: It Involved the Beach

On Saturday, I biked with good friends Andrea, Erika, and Lester, to Third Beach in Stanley Park.  It was… incredible.  Sunshine, swimsuit, sand, swimming in the ocean – and I did all this without getting sunburned.  Then we biked back again, and ate at The Foundation (yum).  In summer, with the ocean and the sailboats and the shiny seaside condos with all their windows, Vancouver doesn’t look real.  I can’t believe I live here.

Evidence #4: It Involved a House Party

Saturday evening found us at friend Kaitlin’s house for what was technically an improv party that allowed the writers to crash.  I caught up with some pals, ate two-bite brownies, and did really not much mingling and still had a fantastic time.  Thanks, Kaitlin!

Evidence #5: It Involved Sunday Lunch

Rhoda came over today for lunch, which I managed to cook successfully (full disclosure: I used prepared chicken stuffed with cheesy broccoli goodness).  We spent the afternoon swapping stories, and then to cap it off, baked cookies (also a success).  I feel full up of happiness.

So now I’m doing laundry (oh my glamourous life) and sitting in a big puddle of thankfulness.  It could be summer all the time.  I’d be okay with that.

 

June

It’s been a bit of a boggy June, and I’ve been working here:

Bard on the Beach

and it’s been good.  I’ve been biking to work the past couple weeks, which still impresses me, although I’m sure everyone else is wishing I’d hush up about it.

In other news, it’s my day off, and I made macaroni and cheese.  And that’s about it.

Lately

I’ve been on holiday.  For seven weeks.

Woah.  I didn’t know that till I counted up just now.  Man.  Maybe I should have been more productive.

In any case, things are carrying on in my small Vancouver life.  I’ve spent a lot of time with friends, going to movies (Thor was silly, Something Borrowed was just bad), or at home by myself getting settled in my still-newish digs.  I received another piece to the furniture puzzle – a desk – today, and there’s still arranging to be done.  But it’s working.

I’ve been having weird writing frustration lately, but I’m trying to let go of my anxiety and realize that sometimes my writing is seasonal.  And that it always comes back.  So I’m resisting the urge to clench my fist, and am instead holding everything lightly.  Life goes on.

And sometimes life involves boats, as it did this past Thursday when the fabulous Steven Galloway took us out on his sailboat.  I got to pilot for a while, like so:

I'm a sailor.

And Bowen Island, our destination, was incredibly beautiful.

The view from Bowen.

And in the strangest turn of events, I bought a bike this week!  No, I don’t quite know how to use it yet, but my good friend Andrea has promised to train me up in traffic etiquette, and I’m hoping that perhaps I can cycle to work some this summer.  Step by step, I’m earning Vancouver cred.

So, I’m thankful for this long stretch of time to myself.  Hopefully I’ve been learning, or at least relaxing, or learning that I don’t relax very well.  But I’d be willing to keep practicing.

Happy almost-summer, Vancouver.

Between Lunch and Poetry

Goodness, what happened to March?

I’m waiting to head off-campus for a poetry party (yes, that’s a real thing that happens), so I figured I should fill in some of the life gaps I’ve been creating lately. So here’s what’s up.

1) I moved. Yep. Out of residence and into a little apartment that I am deeply happy with. I don’t feel at all settled, which is messing with my remembering skills, but I’m sure organization – and furniture – will come with time. I had many incredible friends to help me move, assemble my bed, and take me to Ikea. I’m SO grateful. Also, packing sucks. So does unpacking.

2) It’s the last week of classes. My cohort is finishing their coursework as we speak, and headed into graduation or thesis wrap-up. I’m too deep in denial to feel sad about this, but I’m sure it’s coming. I’ve been so happy here – I don’t want things to change. Which leads us to item 3.

3) I’m taking a third year. I don’t feel at all done with my degree, so I’m sticking around for some more creative writing goodness. I feel okay about this.

4) I’m employed. As of this week, I’ve picked up a summer gig with Bard on the Beach, a big Shakespeare Festival here in Vancouver. I’m really pumped about this development. I’ll keep you posted on how it all shapes up.

That’s the gist of things at the moment. I was also in a play with Brave New Play Rites, and have been madly writing papers and marking papers and being inundated with papers. It feels like I’m spinning a lot of plates, but I don’t seem to mind.

It’ll all work out. It always does.

Sometimes I am a Poet

I read last week as a part of Locution, the Creative Writing department’s monthly reading series. I shared some family poems and ended with comedy. Photos, you say? But of course.

Hand-in-pocket poems.

And then, there was more.

I like my life.

Changement

These days, when people ask me how things are going, I often say, “Good. Y’know, the same.” And then there is a pause, wherein I realize: yes, things are sort of the same. But also – COMPLETELY DIFFERENT.

Why, you ask?

Apartment
I believe I am officially a part of a Vancouver housing co-op! I went through an intensive interview process, but my move-in date is set, and I will soon be the proud inhabitant of a wee, sunny studio. It’s in a great area on a main bus line, and the building is a hundred-year-old handsome behemoth. I’ll get to meet new people, and be a part of a sustainable housing community. I’m so thankful. And excited.

School
I’m… thinking about sticking around for a third year. I don’t feel like I’m done learning. There are still some financial hoops to jump through (walls, really), but I want to give my projects a bit more time. I mean, when will I next be able to focus on my writing this intensely? Answer: Probably never.

Running
I can now run for five minutes at a time without dying! Or even feeling like dying! I can’t express how surprising/thrilling this is, because it would require me outlining how incredibly inactive I was/am. And, y’know, that’s embarrassing.

There are more bits and pieces that I can’t think of at the moment that are also contributing to my life’s activity and thankfulness. But if you ask me how things are going, know that they’re the same. And different. And good.

Run Club

So, in an attempt to prolong my life and stave off cancer, heart disease, and obesity, I’ve started “running.” Three weeks in, I’m still not able to say the word without quotation marks. But I’m still alive, which must mean it’s working.

Here are the highlights so far.

Week One
Ran with Andrea, intervals of six minutes walking and one running. Got knocked out by a wicked cold for the rest of the week. Coincidence??

Week Two
Managed all three outings of five minutes walking, two running. Natalie the roommate came with, which helped. On an unrelated note, I think my sports bra dyed my laundry pink.

Week Three
Ran four, walked three. Definitely thought about throwing up, but survived and feel strangely energized tonight. I wore my Graceland t-shirt in order to harness the motivational power of Elvis, while Andrea encouraged us by calling us her petit conchons, which she said was a term of endearment. I spent the rest of the outing picturing Hagrid cursing Dudley Dursley to grow a pig’s tail, which is just further evidence for the well-known fact that running will turn you into a dork.

After a few attempts, I have mixed feelings about exercise in general – why trust anything so unfun? – but I’m going to stick it out. Perhaps the good stuff comes later.

Stay tuned.

What I Like About You? You Really Know How to Dance

Apparently, today is the most depressing day of the year. But, as my friend Andrea and I were discussing as I went for my first pseudo-run today (woot to New Year’s resolutions), I don’t feel so bad.

I’m back in Vancouver, and working up a storm. The first two days back, I’ve discovered, are always horrible. There’s no way around it. I stumble around the apartment searching for my parents, and have anxiety dreams that Dad is leaving me at the airport. But then – miraculously – things turn around. I’ve run face-first into a ton of work, which, if I’m honest, is when I’m most happy. There’s stuff for me to do, and I’m gonna do it, gol’ ding it!

And it doesn’t hurt that it’s been like spring recently. And that I’ve been collecting hugs from lovely friends.

So here goes another term at writing school. I’m having a great time.

I leave you with one of my favourite people.

Moi et mon mere.

Happy mid-January.

(Side note: Today’s subject line has nothing to do with anything. It just felt right.)