On Being in Canada

Well, kids, I'm back home in Canada. It's not for the long haul, but it's a nice visit nonetheless.





Initially, back after Christmas, I had intended to come home for good once the school year was done. However, after taking a look at just how bad the economic situation is here, not to mention the fact that there are very few jobs for teachers, I've come to realize that coming home in August is the dumbest thing I could do. As such, I am going to actively try to find a job in the Cambridge area once I go back to England.





It's not just the job situation that is forcing me to stay though; in fact, I really should choose my words a little wiser, because this isn't something I'm being forced into. Rather, I've actually come to love England, ever since my move. I've started to be able to enjoy being there, enjoy living in Cambridge, enjoy life. It's kind of amazing to think that something as simple as changing where I lived could have such a profound effect on my life, but it has. I'm much happier. I have so much I need to see, and so much more I need to do. I am not ready to come back to Canada. I don't want to have kids and talk about the 'year' I lived in England. That's nothing, in the grand scheme of things. I want to be able to say "Yah, I lived in England for a number of years, and loved it!"





Or maybe I won't come home at all. It all depends on a number of things. Don't freak out though, my dears, as I will try not to stay away forever. I love you all here in Canada, and couldn't stay away forever. I'd miss you all too much. But for the time being, for the foreseeable future, I have to do what is wisest for me; what makes me happiest. That means going back to England, and trying to build something of a future there. It just makes more sense.

But enough of that talk. Let's discuss my visit, so far.

Saturday I got in around 4pm, which was an hour later than scheduled. The flight was delayed 45 minutes because two of the toilets on the plane weren't flushing. They had some maintenance men come and try to fix it, but they were unsuccessful. I was a bit peeved, because we had to sit on the plane for 45 minutes for absolutely nothing; we ended up flying minus two toilets, so it seemed a waste to me. Besides, I never go to the toilet on planes. It's just too...tight for space. I had to wee really badly, but I held it the entire time.

The flight was alright, not too bad. I hate making the trip, because it's such a bore, but once landed its all worth it. The ride home was fine, clear skies and dry roads. The weather was only a little bit chillier than in Cambridge as well, so I was pretty pleased.

We got home, had some Wendy's (oh, how I missed that Spicy Chicken!!), and then came home to get ready for a night out.

Around 9:30 people started to come by. It wasn't as many people as my trip home at Christmas, but it was the important people. I was ridiculously tired, because I started drinking at 2am England time. I had, at this point, been up since 5am in the morning, so I was coming up on 24 hours awake. I think when you are tired the alcohol hits you differently, because I felt drunk really fast. I was dancing around the living room like an idiot, and my accent got even more ridiculous.

There was obvious drama that night, which I don't want to detail too much. One incident that I will recount involved Adam. We'd dated for 5 years, from when I was 16 until I was 21. I broke up with him, and he took it really hard. He begged me not to do it, and said he'd love me forever. That lasted about a month, when he suddenly realized he was in love with his cousin (through marriage, so they're not technically blood related. But still. Gross). He's been with her ever since. That makes it, what, four years? It's been four years since we've been together. Yet whenever I see him out, he is such a rude asshole. He usually avoids me, and I've been fine with giving him his space. However, I saw him on Saturday at the bar, and thought I'd go clear the air and say hello.

I sat down a the table behind him. I think he noticed, because he made a noticeable effort NOT to turn around. I wasn't about to let him be a retard though, so I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, and gave me the dirtiest look in the world.

"Are we really going to do this?" he asked, his voice absolutely saturated with hate.

"Do what?" I asked, genuinely unsure of what he was saying.

"Do this...you bothering me again," he said flatly.

"What? What are you talking about? I just wanted to say hi, and put a stop this nonsense..."

"Yah. Hi. Whatever," he said, turning away from me.

I sat there, staring at the back of his head, my mouth literally hanging open in shock. What the hell was he talking about?! I wanted to tap him again, and ask him in blunt terms what the fuck his problem was, but before I could my sister ran up, pulled on my arm and dragged me away. I think it's best that she did, because in my drunken state I probably would have ended up saying something really horrible, which I would no doubt have regretted. Yah, he is an asshole, but he's an asshole of such large proportions that he's not even worth the energy.

The night got more dramatic than that small bubble, but again, I won't detail. I did, however, run from the bar as it closed weeping bitterly, because I felt that everyone hated me. I ended up sitting on the pavement, crying my eyes out. A police car even pulled up to ask me if I was alright. I sniffled, smiled that the officer, and told him I was fine. He smiled back, and pulled away. Only in Canada.

I ended up going back to my friend Kayla's house, under the guidance of my sister. However, I kept getting hassled there, by a belligerent and angry young man, so I ran into the house and tried to find somewhere to escape. This ended up being behind the shower curtain in the bathroom. After a few moments, I could hear my sister trying to find me. She kept saying that my boots where there, and my coat, so I must be in the house; however, they could not find me. They even came into the bathroom, and started bitching at the people who were rude to me, but no one thought to look behind the curtain. I started to kind of snicker, but held it all under my breath.

I hid there for nearly half an hour, and had to endure hearing a few people pee before I was found.

Anyways, some more drama entailed, the night seemed to last forever, and I ended up calling England for some comfort....it was a good night, but it was a long one, full of dramatic incidents.

Oh, Canada....

But anyways, it's super early in the morning here (the jet lag is messing with my sleep schedule), and I feel I should go have a shower and freshen up.





Cheers!