Early Thoughts on Vancouver

I've been putting of this post for a while. I didn't kid myself that the transition from life in Edmonton to Vancouver it would be easy or predictable, but the last month has riddled my expectations with surprises.

We left a huge and lonely apartment behind and drove through an a drizzly mess of prairies and mountains.  We hopped out of the car a few times to take photos but it was mostly a rush to set up in our new space. For the last month I'd been living in a disaster of a half-packed apartment and Warren had been living in Vancouver on our friends' floor.

The drive was full of texture and light that I wasn't used to seeing in Edmonton.  That sulphur spring, tho...I have never experience such a horrifying smell. And I used to work in funeral home.

Once we got here I expected to blog and write letters and emails everyday to let everyone know what we were up to and find out what was up in Edmonton. I thought I would nest and sink in immediately to Vancouver life, and meeting new people, and enjoying time with old friends while Warren got back into the routine of his work schedule.

But no, I hated it here.  Our apartment was tiny.  The rain was oppressive.  Our new apartment had mice.  The bathroom's outlet voltage was too low for a hair dryer.  I was planted in a new and massive city feeling overwhelmed and completely bitter with Warren for dragging me here, that asshole.  More than anything I was exhausted from filling so many of my last days in Edmonton with goodbyes, dinners, hang-outs and catch-ups, mostly with people who left me feeling emotionally drained.  As a person who constantly and desperately needs time alone to recharge, I was running on fumes and wasn't much use to anyone.

I was a super shitty human for about a week until I caught up on sleep and started wandering around our neighbourhood.  Within five minutes of leaving the house I realized that Vancouver is incredible if you want to be invisible.  Walking down the street here, no one makes eye contact.  No one says "good morning" or smiles at you as you pass.  I'm pretty sure I could be walking down the street with my hair full of flames and no one would notice or care.  For example, I crashed my bike in front of twenty people one day and only one asked me if I was OK.  Everyone else just walked by or stepped over me with this attitude that said "If she wants to be laying on the ground covered in blood, that's her business".  I love it.  It's like I'm not even here.  I can walk around this city and be completely anonymous and when I decide I'm craving some social activity, I can always make that happen. It's taken me 28 years to realize that I'm at my happiest when I have the freedom be alone.  So I deleted my Facebook account. I haven't updated my blog until now. I've read six books and  went on a road trip to Seattle with Michelle, who never leaves me feeling empty.  Maybe I'll post the photos of our trip on the blog. Maybe I won't.  That's my business.