<3 is to Love as :) is to Happiness

I made it home.

More words later.  For now, pictures:

(Click the picture for more trip visuals.)

You Won’t Believe Your Buccaneers

In Saint John again. Seven hours or so, as the bus drives, away from home.

Montreal was amazing. I walked so much. I saw so much.

I am in a strange frame of mind. It is like every time I leave my home and return, I suffer a sort of identity crisis. I question what I am doing in life, why am I doing it, what would I rather do? What do I really want? I come up with ideas and plans of things to do to improve my life and better realize my human potential. When I get home, I abandon them all.

Let’s see how this trip ends up.

(Ian’s seagull on Mont Royal.)

Treason is the Reason for the Beating

There are leaves on the trees here.

This is the first year that I am this in love with spring.  The older I get, the more I appreciate the uniqueness of each season.

Awesome, cheap and tasty food last night:

I feel like I am cheating.  It’s not spring in Halifax yet.  The leaves are not quite budded.  Here, I get to experience it before it is reality in my normal world.

A fun show last night, way up in Mile End.  Five different acts, all of them very different.  Tonight is Yelle.  In a few minutes I leave to walk and walk.

Carbide Blade Damages Brick

The longest day in the history of days is at its end.

Saint John was beautiful, if only for the sunshine and the beautiful old buildings.

Things were seeming kind of sketchy as far as the drive down was concerned.  I was a wee bit concerned.  And then, like a beacon:

I’m in Edmundston now.  Can this place get any better?

(Outside our hotel.)

The Working Port

Hello from Saint John, New Brunswick: the city that describes itself as “The Working Port”. You know a city lacks some things when it emphasizes the fact that its’ port, like all other ports, is functional.

I am in a nice little coffee shop called Java Moose. Apparently there aren’t many places to pick up free wireless in these parts. I’m about to go explore an Asian market I spotted. Waiting until 5ish for my friend to get off work and then things aren’t going exactly as I’d hoped but I’ll get to Moustache Island by 1 or 2 tomorrow. The only great thing is that we are staying in Edmundston on the way through and everyone knows of my newfound love for that little town.

How much money do you have to spend in a coffee shop to stay longer than twenty minutes, sapping their precious bandwidth? I’m new to this. I ordered a smoothie. None of the food is the requisite vegan.

I ended up watching the 1964 Robinson Crusoe on Mars on the bus.

Totally worth it.

Upholstered Seats

I’m writing from on board a bus.  Mind you, I’m writing in notepad and plan to transfer it to the site but nevertheless, writing aboard a bus is amusing.  I am between Moncton and Saint John at the moment.  The bus from Halifax to Moncton did not have a usable electrical outlet and my antiquated laptop battery can not be trusted.

I am glad for my own foresight.  I prepared everything for this trip last night, right down to the clothes I would wear today.  This is not usual behaviour.  I set my alarm for 5:30 to catch my 7:15 bus out of the city.  I awoke on the twentieth instance of my alarm’s noise.  6:45.  I have never moved so quickly, so early, in all my life.

I am glad no one that I know is taking this trip. My naturally curly hair is worthy of Weird Al at the moment.

I enjoyed a strange nap between Truro and Amherst.  I was scrunched up on the seat, my head likely hanging down and obstructing the aisle the entire time.  I drifted in and out of waking thought and dream.  I remember coming to and thinking that I had shaved my legs but forgotten my ankles, which were now covered in band of six inch long coarse hairs.

What I dislike about traveling is vehicles.  I have a mild form of claustrophobia and find myself uncomfortable being cramped up with no means of escape.  I listen to music incessantly to divert my attention.  Listening to my favourite songs in headphones is one of the best things though, so perhaps the payoff is worth the ordeal.  I enjoy the intimacy of the music and the ability to discern things that I might otherwise miss in casual speaker listening.

I am stopping over in Saint John to wait for a friend to get off work before we hit the road for Montreal.  I hope that I will be able to find the internet and post this and perhaps update more. The bus also allows me to think.  And think and think.  So I have much to say for no better reason than if I don’t, I may forget it or change my mind in an hour or so anyway.

My other weakness, motion sickness, is kicking in and so I will stop writing.  I think I’ll watch some old French film.  That will go nicely with this grey day.

Montreal Again

I am glad that I am leaving this city first thing tomorrow morning.

Right now, I’ve had just about enough.

Four Words for Why I Was Late for Work this Morning

Rat in my toilet.

I woke up early today so that I could get some chores done, enjoy the morning sun and arrive to work on time.  I was happily cleaning up and was in the process of attending to my kitties’ litter.  The type that I use (a natural pine litter which I, by the way, highly recommend) is flushable.  I had flushed one load down my toilet and was coming back with the next and last.  I turned the corner, flushables in hand.

Holy shit.  There is a rat in my toilet.  A baby rat.  A foot long, including tail.  He is covered in pine pieces and standing in water and staying very still.

I thought for a split second on what to do.  I think to myself that because he is small, I can pick him up and carry him outside.  I’ve obviously never handled a wild rat before.  I have no work or gardening gloves so I grab a pair of thick winter gloves.  I go in for the rat rescue, bathroom door closed for the little rodent’s protection against my curious cats.

He is not happy.  As my hands go in to scoop him up, he wants nothing more than to climb up the side of the bowl, which is impossible due to his small size.  He is squeaking pitifully and somewhat furiously.  He attempts biting me and I feel his little teeth graze my finger through the acrylic yarn.

Alright, I don’t want a rat bite.  I am unsure of  what to do next.  I close the lid of the toilet and contemplate running to Canadian Tire for work gloves and a box.  Realizing how impractical leaving a rat in my toilet for half an hour would be, I remember the important fashion rule of layering and grab a few more pairs of gloves.  I put on my rubber boots (logic: if he get on the floor and tries to bite my ankles then he will be thwarted) and I find a large stainless steel pot with a lid.

It’s as simple as that.  Hands in to get him, drop him in the pot.  Cover on the pot and I am out the door.

Except that I just want to let him go as soon as possible and I don’t think it through very well.  The smart thing would have been to let him out in a shady area far away from my door.  Instead, I open up the pot in full daylight not two feet away from the stairs leading down to my apartment entrance.  After much coaxing, he emerges and runs down the stairs to bury himself in the leaves that had blown in by my door.

So, if you come to visit, be wary that a rat lives outside my door now and that something in my kitchen has contained a rat.  Oh, and I’d be careful about using my toilet too.

See further proof on my tumblr

I Have Too Many Pens

This upcoming trip to see Yelle in Montreal still doesn’t seem quite real. Just get me on the road and it’ll have to happen.

I’ve been trying to stay off the internet by doing things that don’t involve the internet. Overall, I am quite happy with the results. If you’ve been missing me as a result don’t take it personally, I’ll see you in real life soon enough.

My lingering sinus infection is nearly gone.

My friends and I are going to look at a house that may be “the one” tomorrow night.

My boss is away on business trips until May 9th.

I need to start making food again.

There’s still a giant hole in my life that needs to be filled. Perhaps in the next few months I will discover those things which I am currently lacking and work to acquire them.

I really, really like buying clothing.

P.S. It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with you. It’s just that I’m awfully shy.

P.P.S. Single for life.

The Hub

The weekend was spent in Truro, visiting my mother, my sister and brothers. If it weren’t for my familal ties I would never enter that town, only see it as the “Halifax is one hour away” highway marker. I would likely stop in at Mastadon Ridge before I would stop in at Truro.

vs

Anyway, my bus ride there was spent remembering how unbelievably long the short trip seems. I also thought of how strange it is sometimes to feel at home in two different places – Truro because my family lives there and so did I for 18 years and Halifax because most of my friends are here and it’s been 6 years now. … Yet, I don’t really feel at home in either place.

Also, I noticed (as I always do, I just always forget) that the reflection of the reflection of the bus numbers makes them appear correctly in my window. Look at the picture, you’ll know what I mean:

I am still suffering from a sinus infection. I took a picture of how shitty I felt the other day when I woke up.

I’ve been overly terrible lately. And I was in Truro, land of overweight feet shoved into crocs. I was insufferable. I am going to have to bake and mail cookies to my mom, just to relieve some of the assholishness from her memory.

“Dear Mom,

I’m sorry that you raised an asshole. I’ll try to be a better person. In the meantime, here are cookies. Enjoy them with your lactose free milk (by the way, why don’t you just switch to soy?)

Love,

Melanie”