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Vancouver Day 9

there was an earthquake that hit eastern canada yesterday, centered in ottawa, it was felt in toronto, montreal, even in ohio and new york city. so, being the resident shit-disturber of twitter, i tweeted this.
before i could scour other people’s tweets, that one tweet had been retweeted 46 times, and was copy & pasted RT’d an additional 50 times. i have never been retweeted so much in my entire life. it was like two hours of massive internet fame (better than 15 minutes i s’pose). some people applauded it’s humour, others got their backs up the morality side and called me a princess bitch. either way, i loved the attention, and even made a top 30 list of earthquake tweets.
i am amazing.
so back to my last day in vancouver. day 9 (coupled with 5 days in whistler, that’s a total of 14 days in BC, if you nerds are keeping count):
weather network is notoriously unreliable. the day before it had said it would rain, but then it didn’t rain and instead was sunny with cloudy periods you mind-fucks. luckily i had enough foresight to fuck the weather and do what i wanna do no matter what. so i rented a bike, biked around the seawall again (such a great path, so fresh/refreshing), then biked along west hastings (oh gawwwwd poverty and sadness in evelyn lau proportions times a bajillion) to commercial drive. 
commercial drive is like a blend of toronto’s kensington market, bloor west annex, and ossington. lots of second hand thrift shops (kensington), vegan cafes, fruit markets, organic farming (annex), cool lounges and portuguese community centres (ossington hellooooo). this is the place i knew i’d want to live in everyday if i lived in vancouver. fuck robson street and granville, this is where the shiznat be gwan on.
i bought two second hand novels for 50cents. eat pray love and holiday in a coma/love lasts 3 years. katie had been reading eat pray love in whistler and totally whetted my appetite for its subject matter. vicki had read it and said that the protagonist was me (travels the world, falls in love) except that she prays (atheism trumps religion ya’ll),  and since the film is soon to be released, i figured i might as well read it so i can trash the movie for not being true to the book. that’s what i do best.
some of the other shops on ‘the drive’ had the coolest oddities:
i feel this way about so many of my facebook friends
fuck yeah
probably related to the men who make women wear said-burqa above
hahah. i once saw a sign like this in toronto that said, “if you plan on shoplifting, let us know, we can recommend something”
i came across this and guffawed outloud. all the pork n’ cheesers inside heard me and turned to stare. yes yes ya’ll i’m part of the tribe, i can say these things about our redonkulous culture.
they were watching the fifa footy. WHAT A SHOCKER cuz portuguese people never drink, eat pub food and watch football games. we are a much more nuanced people dontcha know.
my house
i had the eggs bruschetta, english muffin substituted out for multigrain bread, beans, and 3 veggie snausage links. NOM NOM NOM
side fruit salad that wasn’t on the menu but dude made for me anyhoo because i batted my eyelashes and puckered my lips like a donna.
journalling over rooibos tea…
my head is buried in my journal, yapping about my thoughts and feelings, scattered minutiae and self-aggrandizing shit, when someone on the sidewalk walks up to me on the patio and says in my ear “you’re still here?”
i look up and omfguy it’s a blast from the past, scarborough stylz.
it’s thomas! (pulling a classic scarborough pose, all the teen boys pulled this face in photos back then to try and be macho adult cool). we went to high school together, haven’t seen each other in TEN YEARS MY GAWD A DECADE WE’RE SO OLLLLD.
thomas had seen on my facebook that i was coming to BC, where he now lives, but we hadn’t organized a meetup or anything. but he spotted me on the cafe patio (how he recognized me i’ll never know) and thought he’d come over and shoot the shit. it was so 6 degrees of kevin bacon that we were on the same street at this particular time.
haha, candid camera skillz
we yapped for a couple hours, got somewhat fully caught up (ten years is hard to summarize), and swapped info. he runs his own catering company now, dude totally owes me a nom nom sammich.
later that night, it was hookups with my favourite westcoast chicka anny fucking chih! it was our second date. yes DATE. she’s my new girl crush. i’m putting her on the laminated list.
we had drinks at Six Acres, yapped about my whistler exploits, and other “sportive” activities we like to partake in (har har), before she discovered i’m a vegetarian. she asked me if i’d been to the foundation on main street. katie and i had walked by it, but i hadn’t had the chance to go inside and sample the vegan hipster cuisine that’s so holier-than-thou it makes me feel right at home. since it was my last night in the ‘coouuuv, she piled me into her pretty silver car and drove us up to the foundation for nummy nummy treats. god i love that girl.
at the foundation. look at all the too-cool-for-you hipsters with thrift clothes and ponytails surrounding us. the server staff wore trucker hats and flannel and chuck taylors, natch.
our shared plate had marinated tofu cubes with brockly (drool-worthy), yam-dip with pumpkin seeds, hummous with sesame seeds, salad-roughage with mango dressing, some kinda barley thingy, flatbreads and colourful tortilla chips. PIGGAGE OUTTAGE NEEDAGE!
as we wandered around the area, we also stumbled upon a film set in the middle of filming shit.
we got a personal escort through the set. seriously, you can’t go to vancouver and not see a film set. everything is fucking shot there. twilight stuff being the most popular thing that comes to mind, but really all movies are shot here. if you think that movie you love is set in the states, that’s vancouver you’re looking at. (i really like this walking-in-progress shot of me. nicely done chih-monster!)
anny snapped this photo soooo illegally, not supposed to do that, but gal is like a csis spy in training, she’s so underhanded-clever-hustler-coy. nicely done you sly international woman of mystery.
they were filming an NBC tv show called Facing Kate starring MACGYVER!! (aka richard dean anderson)
never heard of it though. nbc lineups have sucked for the past 10 years.
returned to my hostel late late late, packed up my shit, slept barely, hopped on the skytrain in the morning, boarded my plane filled with toxic travellers who had baaaad halitosis and nosey-inclincations before landing in toronto to blistering summer heat.
and so my two week British Columbia extravaganza came to an end with quite a confused emotion attached to it. i was sad to leave because in the past 2 weeks, i’ve done more on holiday and had more death-defying adventures, experiences, encounters, emotions, travels and anecdotes than some of my european, middle eastern or asian adventures combined. every day for me was packed! i never had a dull moment. but at the same time, if i had stayed A DAY longer, i got the feeling like i would have run out of things to do and would have gotten bored. vancouver is SMALL compared to toronto or montreal, but the beauty is thrilling, so it balances out. but for big city gals like me, we can’t stay too long in the small places. otherwise our brains go bezerk bonkers.
i will say that all the hottest men on the planet have converged upon bc though. that is the place to find a husband, you cougars. DOOO ITTTT.
i’m so glad i took the time to see more of my country. and next month i get to visit Fat Alberta for the calgary stampede, so that will bring the total number of provinces to FOUR. beat that, scarborough-teenagers!
this weekend i head to NYC, not bring ye olde laptop, expect blogging delays til next week.
i’m not even over my jetlag yet and i’m already headed to the big american apple pie sex (and the) city town.
wish me good travel vibes, i need this trip, been feeling as vulnerable as a virgin at a prison rodeo lately.
ps heard that my estranged sister is 5 months pregnant. thank god we don’t talk, is sure as shit ain’t babysitting.

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