Skip to main content

My Second Long Weekend

This weekend was full of food and people and food and sun and food and celebration and, did I mention, food?

I hardly had time to be un-full, and certainly never got all the way to hungry between meals. Thankfully I came back to a nearly empty fridge, so today will be easy on my tummy. It needs to recalibrate.

Despite its prevalence, this weekend was not about food. It was about laughter and joy and had a bonus topping of sunshine. Lots and lots of sunshine. A sunny day in Vancouver is one of the most happy-making experiences. Add on coffee and lunch and parties with delightful friends, and it is no exaggeration to say that I couldn’t stop smiling all weekend long.

Some other notes and thoughts:

1. Lynsey found us the perfect place to stay in Vancouver: Point Grey Guest House. Book a room that is at the back of the house, off 10th Ave. Breakfasts were a legitimate highlight, with fresh fruit, yogourt, homemade baked goods and blackberry jam from berries picked across the street! Delightful hosts. Same price as a hotel, ten times homier.

2. Turns out I really love wearing dresses. I think this could become the Summer of The Dress. This is one of my new goals.

3. Someone asked me my favourite colour and I said, “Periwinkle or teal.” He said, “Those are really girly colours.” And I said, “Yep. I’m a girl.” I don’t know if those are actually my favourite colours, but I do like them a lot. And I like the words periwinkle and teal. I think my actual favourite colour is cream or some off-white variant. How boring is THAT.

4. I could spend hours lying in the grass with Kirsten, eating blueberries and feeling at rest.

5. I don’t like carob, and that’s why I need to trust my gut, even when I fear being high-maintenance. This small moment of epiphany is part of a larger life “turning-point,” as Kirsten identified it.

6. Some friendships are incredibly easy to fall back into. Especially when you are in touch through the phone. Phone calls with faraway friends are a beautiful thing. Eating a meal with those same friends is even better. And if the view is of the (strange and wonderful people at a) beach, or you're role-playing a 1920's murder mystery? Icing on top.

7. I know many great guys in Vancouver. Why did so little dating happen in my life when I lived there?? And why do I know so few quality men in Toronto? (If you’re a Toronto guy and you’re reading this, you’re quality. 95% guaranteed.)

8. Sometimes I like being in charge of parties, and sometimes it is a little stressful. But usually, everything works out just fine, and the little hiccups are hidden by the great fun people have.

9. Dan and Christina are finally married. “FINALLY” seemed to be the theme of the day. I love attending a wedding where the guests are fully and enthusiastically on board with the newlyweds. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a kiss get a partial standing ovation before.

10. I loved everything. Like I said, couldn’t stop smiling.

Comments

  1. 11. Sometimes you meet fun people at said parties and become instant friends.

    I always love being in charge of parties. I think that's why I kept coming to sit by you the other night, because I needed to know that things were under control :)

    I can't wait until we meet again! I'm glad we're twitter friends. Who knows, soon we'll be facebook friends!

    ReplyDelete
  2. nadine.

    yes to friends! and yep, everything was under control...although i had no idea how things would play out. it was a strange place. not fully in CONTROL, but definitely aware of what was going on and knowing more than others... anywho. it was fun.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Simone Weil: On "Forms of the Implicit Love of God"

Simone Weil time again! One of the essays in Waiting for God  is entitled "Forms of the Implicit Love of God." Her main argument is that before a soul has "direct contact" with God, there are three types of love that are implicitly  the love of God, though they seem to have a different explicit  object. That is, in loving X, you are really loving Y. (in this case, Y = God). As for the X of the equation, she lists: Love of neighbor  Love of the beauty of the world  Love of religious practices  and a special sidebar to Friendship “Each has the virtue of a sacrament,” she writes. Each of these loves is something to be respected, honoured, and understood both symbolically and concretely. On each page of this essay, I found myself underlining profound, challenging, and thought-provoking words. There's so much to consider that I've gone back several times, mulling it over and wondering how my life would look if I truly believed even half of these thi...

I Like to Keep My Issues Drawn

It's Sunday night and I am multi-tasking. Paid some bills, catching up on free musical downloads from the past month, thinking about the mix-tape I need to make and planning my last assignment for writing class. Shortly, I will abandon the laptop to write my first draft by hand. But until then, I am thinking about music. This song played for me earlier this afternoon, as I attempted to nap. I woke up somewhere between 5 and 5:30 this morning, then lay in bed until 8 o'clock flipping sides and thinking about every part of my life that exists. It wasn't stressful, but it wasn't quite restful either...This past month, I have spent a lot of time rebuffing lies and refusing to believe that the inside of my heart and mind can never change. I feel like Florence + The Machine 's song "Shake it Out" captures many of these feelings & thoughts. (addendum: is the line "I like to keep my issues strong or drawn ?" Lyrics sites have it as "stro...

Esse - Czeslaw Milosz

I'm on a bit of a poetry binge this week, and Monday afternoon found me lying on the luxurious shag rug of a friend's tiny apartment, re-reading some of my favourite poets (ee cummings, William Carlos Williams, Czeslaw Milosz). It is an adventure to re-open a collection and wonder what will pop out, knowing something you've read before will strike you afresh, or you will be reminded of a particularly moving line that you had somehow forgotten. Like this piece from Milosz, which floors me. Every. damn.* time. The first time I read it, I lay in a park with a friend (this same friend who offered me her rug as my reading burrow) and demanded that I share it with her. I spoke it carefully, and then, into the post-reading silence, I slammed the book shut, and dropped it as loudly as I could onto the grass. "I'm never reading anything again," I declared, "What else is there to say?" Esse I looked at that face, dumbfounded. The lights of métro st...