Vacation Highlight: New Friends - Again!

My first full-day in Berlin was busy: jet-lag, bike tour, first date, being doubled on a bike and many beers in between.

At the end of the date, who was super cute and spoke great English, he gave me a bike ride back to my hotel and went on his way. After he left, I realized it was now 1AM and I hadn't eaten (though I'd done a good job of drinking). At that point I thought it a good idea to get something in my belly. So I went to wander to find something.

Along the way I heard these two American dudes in front of me. Since I'm alone, I have to be a little cautious of who I talk to. So, after adequately scoping them out and deciding that they seemed harmless, I stopped and asked them a random question.

Then they couldn't get rid of me. Art & Sergio became by Berlin travel buddies, whether they liked it or not.

We stayed out til 6AM that first night, went on a pub-crawl the second and strolled the streets of Berlin after a nice dinner on the third night.

Three North Americans in Berlin

How much did I enjoy their company? When they left I got immediately sad. Don't worry, I bounced back really quickly, but I did get a little blue after we parted ways.

So a big shout out to my Berlin mates - you guys rocked my world, and helped turn Berlin into an amazing time. Thanks!

Where do I go from here?

I have been trying to write this post for three weeks with limited success.

A few weeks ago, two of my closest friends came to visit for a girl's weekend on the coast. I was super excited, and even cleaned my apartment for the visit.

These two people have been with me for almost 10 years now. Our friendship is real, there is no doubt about that. Our friendship is deep, there is also no doubt about that.

But the thing about relationships with depth is that they have the power to hurt more than others.

It sucks.

During this trip, and after a lovely dinner, my two friends confronted me on something they had both discussed prior to arriving in Vancouver - my lack of emotions.

In their words, I am an emotional robot.

Now this is not the first time my inability to emote on command has put strain on my relationships. P3 made several comments about my emotional quotient.

Here's the thing, I'm not unemotional. My friends' comments made me quite angry, which proves I am, in fact, not a robot. I am a fixer. I see a problem, hear you crying or upset, I'm going to try my damnedest to resolve the problem as quickly as possible. I also don't believe in burdening people with my woes. My life can be quite heavy at times, too heavy for me, so why should I unload on other people. There's just no need for it.

We were able to resolve(ish)the fight that ensued. They left on good terms and life was to continue on as normal, but their words have left a deeper impression than expected.

Here I am, three weeks later, still obsessing about it. And not only am I still hurt by their words, but I wonder what kind of truth lies in them. Am I too cold for people? Are my walls finally proving too high for even my closest friends? And if they are too high for my friends, how will a man ever overcome them?

I've done the obligatory survey - asking every stakeholder I can think of it they are correct. The response has mainly been that I am in fact, not an emotional robot. Which is nice to hear, but I don't necessarily believe them.

So where does all this rambling leave me? I don't want to fight with my friends, but at the same time, I'm still hurt by their words. I'm still hurt by the fact that they both had the same issues, but neither had the balls to talk to me about it. I'm still hurt that two people I care deeply about questioned my dedication and attachment to our relationships.

Basically, I'm pretty fucking hurt and I don't really know where to go from here.

Vacation Highlight: New Friends

The day I went to Montmarte and Sacre Couer, I got painfully lost looking for Moulin Rouge. Well, not like actually lost, but frustratingly confused. I then saw two boys walking with an English Frommer's guide and asked if I could follow them to Moulin Rouge.

Um, best decision ever!

Peter and Roberto were friends, from Denmark and Houston, respectively, who met up in Paris for a quick vacation. Fun!

Not only did they help me find Moulin Rouge, they let me tag along for drinks and dinner and dancing. And then we hung out the next day and toured the Luxembourg Gardens and did a boat cruise of the Seine.

We parted ways just before I went to the Avett Brothers, but not before dinner at a resto Jarod recommended. Side story: we took a taxi 300 meters because we couldn't find the place the night before, only to have it end up being closed. Too funny.

Anyways, it was nice to have people to talk to over dinner and take pictures of and with. I really like traveling alone, don't get me wrong, but it is nice to have someone else remind you that what you're seeing / doing is real and not just a figment of your imagination.

So, yeah a shout out to Peter and Roberto.

Birthday Treats!

I've mentioned a few times how much I love my birthday. I know it's lame, but I really do. It's the only day dedicated to you - even when it's not.

This year, I was a lucky duck and received a plethora of birthday treats.

First, Andi and Ron flew up from Edmo to help ease my aging-related sorrows. We wandered around the city on Saturday, went to an Edmonton bar for lunch and the game and basically walked our asses off. Oh, we saw the Main Press Centre and heard many a foreign accent ... the Games are gonna be good.

I digress.

The evening was supposed to be ... normal. Sarin had offered up her place for a gathering - I was thinking a pizza party, with booze and treats, and that would be that.

That wasn't that at all!


My Vancouver bitches blew me away.

Priscilla, Sarin and Mariel had put together one hell of a party actually. Complete with Justin Timberlake cake (I think I yelped when it came out), grown-up Twister (no nudity), theme, jello shooters, background images, ambient lighting, music, chicken & waffles, fondue ...

The list goes on and on.

And the best part: I had no fucking clue.

I LOVE surprises.

They are just oodles of fun - unless they're bad surprises, then, well, they aren't fun at all.

Anyways. Team Vancouver really caught me off guard.

So my 29th year started off really great - I felt very special.

Also, a chick in the bathroom at work was shocked when I told her my age. So, I'm totally ok with 29.

I'm totally ok with 29. I'm totally ok with 29. I'm totally ok with 29.

All reflective and shit.

At the end of 2009, the only thing I can think about is my relationships. Sadly, few were romantic, although cute boys played their parts, it was the platonics - in all shapes - that left the biggest impact on me.

From the complicated to the simple, from blood relatives to chosen family, from business to bizarro, the people in my life taught me the importance of friendship.

How they'll keep you afloat, when you're pretty sure you'd sink. And keep you sane, when you're in the middle of re-election for Mayor of Crazytown.

They taught me a million times over, that there is nothing better in the world than being loved, regardless of the type.

Apparently, not everyone in Vancouver sucks, thus my friend count grew. Considerably. So much so that I have a life here, and well, it is a nice life. Although I still occasionally ache for Edmonton. And that's ok.

This lesson was learned from loss as well. This year, the first boy I loved, decided that though we were long over romantically, our friendship wasn't working either. Our lives stopped intersecting and I realized how fragile some relationships are. And how temporary. So. Very. Temporary. I lost not only him, but my favorite thing about Vancouver.

I got the scare of my life when I thought I was going to lose my best friend. The one person I could trust, beyond a shadow of a doubt, taught me in a big way how to appreciate her, and wish we weren't so far apart. Sometimes.

Oh these friends of mine. From giving me a trip home for my birthday, to getting into endless amounts of trouble with me and well, making me feel like the luckiest chick in the world, these people are the best pieces of me, only to the nth degree.

And despite not finding romantic love this year, these relationships ensure I am never lacking for real love.

The tale of two lives

I live in Vancouver. I miss Edmonton all the time. Sometimes, like now, I miss it more than others.

You see, magically, I have been blessed with two really awesome lives. Two lives that I can live fairly regularly thanks to the magic of flight.

Vancouver and Edmonton served very different purposes when I first moved. The two didn't overlap, and I was ok with that.

But they are starting to overlap. Vancouver is starting to become a 'home' to me. A place that I don't hate and one that is gaining in the friend department. But it's still no Edmonton.

This week here has been fucking awesome. I have had enough time to see almost everyone and spend some time with them. And good god do I miss these people and this city.

I honestly feel so lucky - I didn't go out searching for the most awesome friends in the world, but somehow, I got them. No seriously, try to out friend me. I'll win. I promise.

I come to Edmo and these people not only want to see me, but they make my trip and my time here so freaking great. And they make me wonder, would my life be better in Edmonton?

But then there's The Couve. I really do have the best job in the world. One that fits me and I fit it. I don't discredit how rare it is to want to go to work everyday. I look forward to seeing my co-workers and whatever challenges the days may bring - and they are always different - believe me, I fully appreciate how lucky I am.

Like I said, Vancouver is definitely gaining in the friends department. For the first time, I am thinking about having an actual birthday party in Vancouver. Mainly because I have more than two people to hang out with.

I just kinda wish my job was in Edmo. Like a lot. Unlike others, I don't love Vancouver enough to wish everyone moved out there. But I do love Edmo enough to wish I could find as awesome a job here as I have in Van.

That would make life pretty freaking great.

Jussayin'

Stereotypes Galore!

Tonight, my evening consisted of meeting some friends, walking around the West End, going to yoga and then for cheap Thai food.

Plus, I'm a visible minority.

I think Vancouver is seeping in, and I am not so sure that I like it.

Seriously? Yoga? What the fuck?

I don't know what has happened to me. First climbing, now this.

If anyone knows where 'normal' Iris is, please let me know.

I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

Well I am. So I will write.

This week has been busy. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I am a busy bee, with people to see and things to do.

Ok, well, more just sitting around with Sarin, hanging out.

First, let me properly introduce you all to Sarin. She is, like so many of my favorite people, from Edmonton. And to best sum it up, she is my bizarro. We share many of the same thoughts and interests and well, kinda everything. She has her own versions of Smelly, Priscilla and confusing boys, that she makes my life feel less alone.

Anyways, my social weekend consisted of two houseparties and one amazing concert.

Friday night, Sarin and I went to a houseparty I was invited to by a friend, with the promise of boys.

And boys there were. Ladies, if you have been wondering (like I have been) where all the single straight men are, well, there was a house in Kits the all apparently lived.

The boy-to-girl ratio was ridiculous, but alas, none of them struck my fancy - well, to be fair, between the dancing to Jizz in My Pants to building a torch, they didn't have time to do much else. After watching one stand on a car, with no shirt and said torch in the middle of the street, we were confident the police would be arriving and darted out of there.

We grabbed some latenight (gasp) healthy eats at The Naam and headed home.

Saturday I met a friend for lunch at a Mexican joint by my place, hit the beach with another friend and then headed to the show with Ash and Sarin.

Phew, I'm tired just thinking about it.

After the show, Sarin and I went to another houseparty. I stayed for a little while, but then headed home.

The lesson from this weekend is that I am not a houseparty person. I have to be incredibly drunk to find any sort of pleasure from random, non-coherent interactions with strangers. I don't know how people find this enjoyable.

HOW?

Most people are stupid. Most drunk people are intolerable. So why, as a semi-sober person, do I want to interact with them en masse?

Sorry, that went a little ranty. My apologies.

Sidenote - the real issue with sleep problems is that I am now ready for a nap, but instead, I have to jump in the shower and head to work, where I am expected to be bright, and creative and presentable.

This is going to be a really long day.

sigh

Why can't we be friends?

Ok, I go on ad nauseum about my friends.

They are great, I love them, blah blah blah.

But here’s the thing – the people I surround myself with don’t feel like just my friends. These people have become my family.

Sure some of them are third cousins, once removed, that I only talk to once and a while, but they are still people that I can share anything with (well, almost) and they don’t judge me.

I am very particular about most things in my life (except the boys I date) and my friends are no exception. I refuse to like people too quickly – I have been burned by that before – but I am willing to dislike people really quickly.

But seriously, I have had a really great core group of people in my life for a very long time, and it feels like with every year, that group expands. Just when I thought I was done making friends, I went and made some more.

It’s like magic.

Well, actually, it’s a lot of work. There is a lot of time spent on the phone or texting or emailing or whatever.

But in the end, I guess it’s actually worth it.

Hmm ….

Lucky

One of my dearest and bestest friends, Eve, came to Vancouver for a little viz.

I'll go into the visit later - we had a blast, as per usual.

At one point, Eve said, "Do you remember your sixth grade birthday party ..."

Eve and I, NYC 2007

I paused to appreciate the fact that I still have someone in my life (who isn't related to me) that can say that.

Afterwards, we called my mom and told her our confessions of 12 year old rebellion.

We're both grounded.

Maybe Vancouver doesn't suck

This week has been brilliant here in Vancouver.

Here's why.

1) As I mentioned before, May was super busy at work. We were down a couple of key people and while the rest of us couldn't pick-up all the slack, we did a pretty fucking good job. So, as a 'Thanks for working your asses off in May' my boss took us on his 98-year old wooden boat.

Fuck is it pretty.

We went along the harbour and lunched by Lonsdale Quay. We saw a yacht with a helicopter wrapped up, and well, it was awesome.

Best. Lunch. Ever.

2) I have been at the beach three times in the past week, or at the very least been by the beach. My walk home and subsequent water taxi ride are still in effect and rocking my world, but I have started to bring a sarong and just sit in the sun for a bit.

So fucking lovely and relaxing. You can't be stressed out about your day after you sit for twenty minutes and just chill out.

3) Friday rocked!

My mission on Friday night was an early evening drunk. I am talking public drinking, with friends, right after work. Now, while the 'right after work' part didn't happen that way, the early evening drunk did.

I met Josh at Kits beach, he had awesomely brought some beer for us, and we sat, drank, chit-chatted, and gawked at the scenery surrounding us. Priscilla soon joined with some friends, and then Sarin met-up with us.

Sitting there, drinking, chatting with friends, I said it out-loud:

Vancouver doesn't suck.

At least right now.

But this week, this glorious week, Vancouver didn't suck.

It's about fucking time.

Also, I have friends, did you notice? I met up with three, yes three people at the beach! And they don't suck. That is pretty fucking cool.

You've got to be kidding me

I have said it before, and I will say it again, I have the best friends in the world. For so many reasons.

They put up with me, they are there when I need them, they get why I am dysfunctional and never judge, but this year, my friends blew me away.

Well, they actually flew me away.

As you all know, I am a big fan of birthdays - the only day dedicated to you, yada yada yada. Last year, my birthday was depressing. I had just broken up with P3, I hated Vancouver, I had just gotten some bad news. Life sucked. Hard.

This year, I was kinda looking forward to it, but I was wondering - what the fuck am I going to do and who the fuck am I going to invite?

Then I got a call - it seems Chunk and Ally decided to gather a group of my closet friends and pool together to buy me a ticket to come home. EEEK! Who the fuck does that?!

And not only that, they had arranged to have parties on Friday and Saturday night.

Who the fuck does that?!

Well, my friends do, that's who.

It's ok, be jealous of me. I would be if I were you. These people constantly amaze me. I at no time feel as though I have done anything to warrant this kind of friendship. Believe me, I recognize everday how lucky I am to have people in my life like this.

Being in Vancouver has made me realize this all the more. The one thing this city will never have, no matter how hard it tries, are my nearest and dearest. It will never have the heart that Edmonton does.

Never.

So, thanks guys. I just hope that one day, you will get how much you mean to me. Because seriously, you do.

No, seriously, I wasn't being sarcastic.

I was a bad friend.

I usually consider myself a really good friend. I am there when people need me, willing to give a helping hand, always up for a fight if need be (preferably verbal, but physical if it is called for), but this past weekend I was a bad friend and feel horrible for it.

You see, I ran away when someone I care about needed me. I showed him that I don’t have his back and that he can’t rely on me when times get tough.

And this is horribly out of character for me. I will fight tooth and nail for a friend. I will stand by them when the going gets tough. But this time, rather than doing something that comes so naturally to me, I just left. I left him in the lurch and I feel horrible for it.

HORRIBLE!

I don’t know how to make it up to him, to show him that my actions are in no way indicative of how much I care about him. I take my friendships seriously, and for me to leave him with the impression that I don’t is really upsetting me.

Like a lot.

I have apologized, but I know that may not be enough. This one hurt him a lot and I hate knowing that I caused someone I care about any sort of pain.

Ugh, worst Monday ever.

I had fun

So like I mentioned previously, I am making friends in Vancouver. Sure, most of them are from Edmonton, but I have met a couple of really cool Vancouver-ites.

Friday night, one of these cool Vancouver-ites told me about a show his band, The Painted Birds were doing show as part of the Nearly Famous Music Festival. I hadn't seen him play live and well, you all know how much I enjoy live music. So, Priscilla, Sarin and I put on our best, 'we're cool too' outfits and went to check out the show.

I had never seen a friend perform live before. Other than Jarod's Ukranian dancing, I had never seen the transformation of a person into a rockstar. That alone was reason enough to go. Josh was great and it was really cool to see him morph into this star, groupies and all.

Not only that, but when he came to chat during an acoustic break, I felt pretty cool. I mean, he is with the band! heh.

Saturday was enjoyable. Went to a great Thai resto with Nikki. Cheap and good, what more can you ask for? And then went to hang with P3 and Sia. It was good to see P3, but especially great seeing Sia.

I never really got what was so great about having a dog - that was until Sia walked into my life. But that is enough for a whole other post, so I will save it.

So, yeah. Vancouver. You aren't ALL bad.

Breathe and Reboot

As I have mentioned before, I really dislike Christmas. All the annoying cheer and lights. What if I had epilepsy? I would be screwed.

The only great thing about Christmas is that I get to hang out with my family and friends. After the break-up, Dad kindly bought me a ticket to come home for the holidays. It was exactly what I needed.

I got to sleep in my own bed. Watch TV till all hours of the night. Sleep in whatever I want to. Fall asleep with the TV on. It was great.

I also got to hang out with the majority of my friends. Even though I think I am over the worst of the post break-up blues, it is amazing how much friends help. Just being around them and having them there is helpful.

I also got to hang with the rents. I love my parents, I really do, but small doses is all I can take. Dad has a habit of needling me until I lose it and mom just fusses too much. I know both are coming from decent places, (mom's quirk is WAY better than dad's) but let me be!

Anyways, got to see a ton of people and reminded me this: If it wasn't for this job that I love, I would remain in Edmonton. I don't care what people say - I love it. And if not New York, then why not Edmonton.

Oh, I am going to see MSTRKRFT and Paul Devro tomorrow. I saw Paul Devro at this show in Edmonton and he was wicked good. So, maybe Saturday I will write talking about how many new friends I have and how great my life is.

Ok, maybe not, but a girl can hope right??

Lis ... - I don't have a sweat gland problem - it's lip gloss.

After I helped Paul move on Saturday, I was exhausted. I had been out late the night before and gone to help with the move at an obscenely early hour on Saturday. Then, progressively become more exhausted as Paul worked us to the bone. Slave-driver.

I got home and desperately needed a nap. Call Lis and made plans for the night and fell into a beautiful slumber. Yeah, I then slept through all of her calls and was forced to get dressed and primped in 20 minutes! It is still a miracle that I was even able to come close to pulling it off.

So we went to the Matt Mays concert at Starlite last night. It was ok. I always pay attention to how captivated I am by a show and, well, he did nothing for me. I was quite happy to ignore the show and chat with Lis and Chunk. This is why I don't think I could be a music journalist. If the show doesn't get me really into it, I am bored and not paying attention. I have no idea what stuff he played or anything. I am a bad concert-goer.

I also ran into my friend Kristin. Kristin is one of two people I met in my program last year that I regularly keep in contact with and she is one of the funniest people I have ever met in my ENTIRE life. She was supposed to come to my party last week, but got the dates wrong and ended up there on Saturday rather than Friday. I think she is probably just avoiding any non-accidental contact with me. I can be embarrassing in public.

After the show, a very drunk Lis and Iris drag a very sober Chunk to Denny's. I haven't been to Denny's in a few years, and I remember why now. The meal itself was hilarious, because anytime in public with a drunk Lis is funny. I will probably never remember what made it so funny, but let me tell ya, it was like comedy show funny. Not like a bad Yuk Yuk's open-mike-night, but a OMG-we-have-to-get-tickets comedy show. Get it?

Oye-Vay.

i

And where do you think you are going?

So I have this friend. For the sake of this post, we will call him Paul.

Now Paul and I have been friends since high school. In fact, said friend was my grad date. We have been best dudes for a while now, a fact I take great pride in, a) because he is a difficult person to like; b) I have said it before, but I feel truly blessed to have people who knew me back-in-tha-day; and c) our friendship is living proof of a truly platonic friendship between members of the opposite sex.

So since HS, Paul and I have remained best dudes. Of my memories of the past ten years, very few of them don't include Paul. We have lived within a 15 block radius of each other for a while, and I have gotten very used to having one of my best friends within a 15-minute walk. One of the comforts of Edmonton I love.

Anyways. Paul is growing up and it is bugging the shit out of me. I helped Paul move on Saturday. Unfortunately for me, Paul is moving out of the downtown core. Very far out of the downtown core. To a part of town I don't even know how to get to on bus. For the first time since HS, Paul and I aren't going to be just a hop, skip and a jump away from each other.

It is the end of an era. A very fun era.

Paul is also getting married this year. Kai is getting married this year too. Do you know that most of my group of friends from HS are married or getting married? A good chunk of them already have kids. WTF?! I am still waiting on a boy I like enough to introduce to my parents and these people are being adults?

I just can't think about this anymore. Paul and I are NEVER going to hang out again. He is NEVER going to want to go for a walk again. We are NEVER going to see each other again.

MY LIFE IS OVER!

Ok, a little dramatic I know, but these are the INSANE thoughts that have been running through my head. I get that I should be happy for my best dude, and I am, but I am also really sad for me too. Call me selfish. I don't care. I JUST DON'T CARE!

i

I am 26 now. AWESOME! (Sarcasm included)

I wasn't particularly excited for my birthday this year. For those of you who know me, you know that this is odd. I am a HUGE fan of birthdays. They are the only day in the world that is devoted entirely to you. You will be sharing every other day, but your birthday is yours alone. Even if you share it with someone else you know, it is still your day.

This year was incredibly sad for me though. I didn't realize how much leaving NYC on my birthday was going to affect me. But let me tell ya, it really did. I was in tears off and on throughout the day. Talk about depressing, and very out of character, I am not a public crier. In fact, I would like to believe I have no human emotions or tear ducts.

So the flight was depressing, yada yada yada. I did get to watch the unedited version of the Departed, and I thought it kicked ass. I totally wanted to make out with Leo after it, and I am not a Leo fan.

Get back into Edm and Ally picks me up. Both literally and figuratively. It was great to see her again. She took me for lunch, and then Paul and Jarod came over.

I have come to realize something. It doesn't matter what city you live in. The city isn't your home. The people are. Just hanging out with everyone yesterday brightened up a crappy day, and made me see what I have in my life is something everyone should be jelly about. I have the most amazing friends in the whole fucking world. No seriously. We can fight about this all you want, but no one tops my crew. NO ONE!

i

PS. Finally got to see The Devil Wears Prada. I totally want to work at a fashion mag! Although their shit would never fit me, I would just take it home to look at and drool. Ahhh .... clothes.