Skip to main content

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.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

so hip it hurts

there aren't too many artists who stand out as being iconically canadian. it's too easy to mistake us for some other people, mostly americans, who are, let's be honest, pretty similar in a lot of ways. [this is the bit where i apologise for avril lavigne, justin bieber and drake.] the guess who/ bachman turner overdrive held sway over an earlier generation, and musicians and those who appreciate technical proficiency will speak of rush like they are gods, but last night the country said goodbye to perhaps the most canadian of canadian bands, the tragically hip.

for those of you not familiar with that name, the hip emerged in the mid-to-late eighties, among a slew of canadian bands [54-40, the northern pikes, the pursuit of happiness, the grapes of wrath] that balanced on the line between mainstream and alternative rock. all of them played accessible guitar-based music with none of the bombast of seventies dinosaurs, but equally with no hint of the drug-fueled anger that w…

shut up

general reaction seems to be that last night's vice presidential debate was close to a draw, with a slight edge going to mike pence [other than among cnn's panel of independent voters, who overwhelmingly chose tim kaine as the winner]. i feel that's an accurate assessment, although it's largely a question of personal preference. pence absolutely projected the stoic, unflappable, unwavering image that many americans [not just republicans, either] seem to like and equate with strength. for my part, i prefer someone who's a little more mercurial, someone who's able to gets excited about ideas and who's able to expand on them, not just repeat talking points.

so, from my point of view, both vice presidential candidates were pretty disappointing. i found that kaine had a fantastic command of facts and history- he knew pence's voting record better than pence knew his and possibly better than pence knew his own. his opening answers were so smoothly delivered i…

mental health mondays :: parabnormal?

for north america and parts of europe, halloween marked the apex of spooky events, where the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead was at its most diaphanous. but if you're a very traditional roman catholic, you'll know that the 31 of october is merely the beginning, and that the entire month that follows is dedicated to remembering and praying for the dead, specifically for those whose souls are trapped in purgatory. if you listen to dante, purgatory isn't especially pleasant. sure, there's the possibility that you'll end up working off your debt to celestial society, but until then, you get to endure things like having your goddamned eyes sewn shut with iron wire. [much like condo developments, it gets better the higher the floor you live on.]

however, the more common view of purgatory among catholics is that the souls relegated there can't do anything to help themselves, and are reliant on the prayers of their living relatives and loved ones to …