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there's a vague chance that i might be a zombie

so i did return, finally, from my trip out west. this was actually the first time that i'd been to vancouver since 1986, which basically means that the only things that were there the last time i was were the mountains and the ocean. i'm glad that i at least had one day there when i felt a little better [basically the day after i got there, when the cold from hell went into remission as it prepared for days of making me really miserable], where i walked around gathering some information from work but also allowing myself [literally at some points] to stop and smell the flowers.

here is my trip, in a nutshell.



i drew this on the plane on the way to vancouver, as i sat in my chair, sick and starving but not willing to fork over money [or credit card, since the airline doesn't accept cash anymore to "make things easier", because reducing the methods by which you can pay for something somehow makes them easier to do, but i digress]. i think the exceedingly chipper stewardess saw me. i don't care. it wasn't her fault, but her airline refused to let me rebook my flight to a later date and insisted that i haul my ailing carcass to get on the next available flight or they would void my ticket altogether. west jet = worst jet.

the first day i was there, as i mentioned, was the best. i was on my own to do some reconnaissance and make some observations and i walked around the whole day, happily doing my work, although i did make a couple of pit stops. like here:



and here:



i got to see a little vancouver culture.






and i made a friend in my travels.




when i woke up the next morning, i felt like this.



and the next few days are kind of a snot-smeared blur of coughing spasms, mouth-breathing and feeling sorry for myself.

none of this helped me look any better.



even though i brought in reinforcements.




i forgot to bring my eye primer, which made a bad situation worse, because it basically ensured that by the time i made it to the lobby in the morning, i already looked like i'd been mauled by a st. bernard with a particularly acute drooling problem.

i stuck to the hotel for breakfasts, where the menu offered something called a "mount royal bagel".



i have no idea what a "mount royal bagel" is. i know what a montreal bagel is, because i get them all the time. surely the hotel wouldn't try to sneak a mass-produced bagel they took from the back of a freezer as a special treat by giving it a name similar to something that's internationally famous, would they?



yes, of course they would.

i tried to make a change to my flight to come back a day early. i was told that i could change from a flight sunday afternoon to a flight saturday night at eleven. i would have a stopover somewhere unspecified and i would get into montreal at about 8:15 the next morning. and the change would cost me $482. i tried to point out that this wasn't changing the ticket, but buying an entirely new ticket, which i didn't need their help to do. the agent didn't seem to appreciate my sense of humour.

eventually, i made it home [at about one in the morning on sunday/ monday]. i called in sick to work, which i think was expected. today i went back for a few hours, but i feel like someone has filled me with lead. i don't mean i feel like i've been shot, i mean i feel like i've been filled with lead ball bearings, because every part of me is extremely heavy. my hands are heavy as i type. my feet are heavy when i try to walk. my head is heavy, which makes it difficult to look awake. my kneecaps are heavy.

it's possible that my cold has morphed into something else. it's also possible that i actually died and am just having trouble adjusting to the kinetics of being a zombie. i mean, once you're dead, your body is bound to feel a little different, right?

that's my theory.

i don't think i'll be traveling again for a while.


thanks for continuing to drop by this place and read the old crap i posted. from now on, only the new crap. which is kind of the same, except that you haven't read it before, exactly.

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