Unless You've Done It

PREFACE: This is not a complaint post. It is nothing more than the truth. Deal with it. 

Sad puppy (via Easily Distracted)

This is the third time in my life that I've moved to a city I didn't really know anyone. (The fourth if you count when I moved to Florida, because though I had my extended family there, I didn't have a social network.)

This is the third time I've tried to make it in a city on my own. 

This is the third time I've been genuinely lonely. 

I go to work. I come home. I've taken to working out (I know, who am I!?) and thankfully there's a couple of people I know in the city who have been kind enough to invite me out. My co-workers have turned out to be really nice people, and fairly social, so that's a win, but most days, when I get home, I don't say another word to another human being. 

I know this is temporary, it always is, but it doesn't make the loneliness any easier. 

My mind wanders and I get homesick like nobody's business. And then I get updates from friends and family about what they're doing and how much fun they're having, and though I'm happy their lives are going well, I can't help but feel a tad jealous, and sorry for myself. 

A friend of mine recently commented on how it's like I'm dead, but I can see how everyone moves on afterwards. 

It's morbid, but almost exactly like that. (I assume)

You see whatever space you filled in people's lives become almost immediately occupied after you leave. Of course it is. I wouldn't want it any other way, but it doesn't make you feel any less ... insignificant. 

And if you've never moved, if you've never been away from everything and everyone you love, if you've never been alone you don't know what it's like. 

This too shall pass, and I know that. Soon enough I'll carve out a little life for myself and I will start making Dubai home, but for the next day or so, I'm sad and missing my old home. 

Like I said, this isn't a complaint post, it just is what it is. (It's also a slightly pathetic post)

I wouldn't be me if it weren't for Slave Lake

I grew up in a small town in Northern Alberta. About 2.5 hours north of Edmonton, with a population of 7,000. That town was Slave Lake. Though I haven't called Slave Lake home in many years, it will forever be my hometown.

Last night, Slave Lake went up in flames. The pictures are horrifying and since the full evacuation was ordered, information has been sparse. It breaks my heart thinking about pieces of my childhood being burned. And though my family and friends are all ok, I can't imagine what life will be like when they return, what devastation awaits them.

Slave Lake is where the seeds of Iris started: where I met my two oldest friends; where I learned to skate (and subsequently fall); where I made far too many poor boy choices; where everyone knew me as Bob's daughter (which I still have a complex about); where I had my first job (a janitor at my best friend's dad's clinic); where I got drunk for the first time and smoked my first ciggie.

Most of yesterday, I watched the internet in horror, realizing my childhood home, businesses my dad built, friends' homes and many other pieces of my history are now gone.

For all the times I have tried to hide my Slave Lake roots, I know (and have known), beyond a shadow of a doubt,

I wouldn't be me if it weren't for Slave Lake

And now much of the town is gone.

My heart breaks for the town, for its residents, for its alumni, for everyone that has been touched by this Northern Alberta gem.

If you feel compelled to donate (which I hope many of you do) the Red Cross is probably the best way to do it.

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'