The One with the Friends Reference

So far, I've been able to avoid talking moving away. Then Kevin had to go do this (re screen shot), effectively bursting the dam. I spent a portion of my afternoon reminiscing over what we affectionately and aptly term 'the end of an era'.

Our sojourn in Vancouver concerned itself with worries and problems that in retrospect seem negligible in light of our new found status as adults. At that point in our lives, our biggest headaches were assignments and class schedules.

We lived our lives like lyrics of an MGMT song. It's especially true because Vancouver is so drug-obsessed. We talked about people we knew, people we didn't know and people we wanted to know.

I do miss Vancouver. Most of my growing up was done there. Most of my ideals, aspirations and inspirations were drawn from the professors who taught me, the people I sat and smoke with, and the people who passed me by on the corner of Robson and Burrard.

Granted though, I never did see myself being a resident of Vancouver. I couldn't stand the thought then and still cannot stand it now. Vancouver is very easy to be sick of. It's the perfect transitionary city, in my opinion.

Much as I liked it, I could not have chose a more opportune moment to leave. I left it at the height of my glory days: an apartment in the West End, the neverfuckingending snow, strangers on my couch and a well-stocked fridge.

To its end, Vancouver was both a faithful friend and a sleazy bastard. There are many things I miss about it and yet I can't say I am sorry I left.

Come Fall

Now that I find myself making my home in the Northern Hemisphere again (in the geographical context, not the political one), I find little excuse to restrain from browsing. It's been a while since I visited Etsy. The last time I did, this girl and her offerings sent my heart into palpitations. I vowed to spend my next paycheque on her but alas that paycheque never materialized. Today, I make the same vow. Her name is Yokoo and she blogs here. I think she's extraordinarily talented.

Three Ring Chain in Barley

The Elizabeth Pom Pom

The Pembroke Cowl

The Cambridge Chain
Pictures credit: Yokoo's Etsy Page

I lifted the pictures from Etsy and in the process I hope I have not infringed upon any copyright laws. I am more than happy to credit unto Ceasar what is due to Ceasar.

In the event that the illusionary paycheque decides to evade me again, I just might settle on this as a consolatory gift.

Hello

Oh wow, it's been a while eh? The latest is that I've arrived in the UK. As much as I'd like to say I am in London, the sad truth is that I am not. I am currently in Guildford and it is very much like being in Klang. Small town, an hour or so away from the real city, got a main street, got a mall, yadda yadda. We're living with the 'rents till we have jobs to facilitate rent payments and everything that goes with that. Since my last post, quite a bit has happened. Most notably is my being engaged, renewed and improved sisterhood with Sheema, Sarika's going away in September and my parents separated by continents. Nonetheless, true to the old adage, some things (and people) do not change.

These days, I spend most of my days internet surfing, internet surfing, job hunting, food cooking and soap watching. I started of this post with something witty and intelligent to be said but then I lost the plot.

Anyhow, it's nice to say hello. I promise it won't be so long before I next call on you. Oh, True Blood is damn on!

STS

My new-found mission in life (for now, that is) is to theorize an academic discourse that people will be quoting and talking about years and years from now. My area of concentration is small towns that are too small for its own good. I hypothesize that small-towners live caged, scrutinized lives whose abilities and talents are limited and constrained by small minds and the disability to recognize that a much bigger world exists outside said small town. As testament of my dedication to this project, I have spent a month and a half and will be spending another 2 months or so in a small fucking town in bum-fucking nowhere.

So far, a fellow researcher-cum-compatriot (lest I be taken in by small town and undergo conversion) has remarked that "everyone in this town thinks and act like they're Blair Waldorf except that they're not". I realise it is a very elementary observation but I believe this reveals volumes into the mentality of this town; the mentality that is henceforth known as Small Town Syndrom (STS).

The Motherland

This is for Sarika who I know is passing out more often than she will care to admit to.

Home is well, home. Nothing much has changed since I left four years ago. The routines remain the same, the people have aged a little but their habits untouched. It doesn't take any effort for me to fall into the routine - nothing is strange, different or unusual. Which in turn is unusual; I expected to feel like a stranger, to be introduced to new things, new people. Instead I come home to well, home. Nothing much has changed since I left four years ago.

I suppose we can have a conversation about the insignificance of my presence but I rather not.

Mummy is a lot better, both health-wise and emotionally. The surgery really did help and The Skoros were right about the surgery renewing her lease on life.

I miss Vancouver immensely. It is difficult to compare life here to that in Vanc. because it is so drastically different but Vancouver will always hold for me a large chunk of affection and sentiment. My affection may come too little too late but having placed it in the hands and hearts of people (as opposed to places and things) I am confident I will see everyone again sometime soon and it will all be good.

Being "at home" is a psychological condition more than it is a physical one. To be able to so effortlessly integrate myself into a routine that hasnt changed much is a comforting notion, it is the stuff of Petronas adverts and Christmas cards. At the same time, it is a stark reminder of how far removed I am from this routine and how much change I have imposed on my life away from home.

Nonetheless, it is good to be home.

In other news,

Kevin dedicated a post to me. *heart heart*

Homeward bound...

in less than a month. The plan is to stop in Taipei for a couple of days because we can, then head home so I can start eating nasi lemak everyday.

Just got home from Whistler today; it was good fun! As usual, I do not have any photographic evidence/memories of my endeavors but I hold it in good faith that it will be on Facebook soon - in fact, Tereza's album is already up and I've tagged myself.

I don't think the pictures do the beauty that is Whistler sufficient justice. Like the rest of the conditions plaguing today's world, our stay coincided with drought week. Only five runs were open and the bottom of the hill was mostly green. Towards the end of the week though, it snowed and it was truly beautiful. It then became ffffucken cold and I was more than happy to admire scenery from the inside of a Greyhound.

So I did pass all my courses so I will be graduating. My aunt was quite distraught to learn that I wasn't planning on being in Vancouver for my convocation; so much so that she bribed me with plane tickets (I tried to justify my decision by claiming travel costs) so I guess I might be here in June after all. Mike will be living downtown by then so it all sounds quite good right now.

Now that all is said and done, the closing of this chapter is quite anti-climatic. Aside from the personal perception that I am a victim of academic injustice, I also cannot be arsed to fill out appeal forms, chase emails and see heads of departments for a minuscule grade bump. Too much work, too little pay-off.

These days, most trade-offs are not worth much to me anymore. For instance, while in Whistler I opted to stay in and watch 16 episodes of Friends because I rather that than put on an extra pair of socks to go out. Of course, I got called a number of names (and rightly so too) but I can't say I regret it. After four months of desiring regression but forcing some action out of myself, I do think I am justified. I am loving every moment of laziness - I do think I have earned it.


On the other hand, the house is a mess(!) as we sell/give/store/ship the accumulated evidence of my last four years and Andi's last two. Discarding possessions and packing boxes should make me sentimental for the last four years of the life that I have built for myself here in Vancouver but it hasn't. More than anything, I am anxious to just get it done with so I can go out and see the people that I will miss. My thoughts these days are steeped with excitement; excited at the prospect of moving to a new city, meeting new friends and reuniting with old ones, celebrating CNY at home, conversations with Suzi, seeing places I've never seen before, making decisions.

Leaving Vancouver right after New Years is perfect timing in my opinion - the holiday season will afford us much time together but the brevity will numb the abrupt separation. There will be no time for tears and contemplation, only after-the-fact acknowledgement with no chances of repatriation hence making it easier for us all to get on with our lives.

Happy holidays all!