~ On the ferry. There’s a kid in a wheel-chair making strange vocalizations. I think he’s trying to harmonize with the rumbling of the boat’s engine. All I can think about right now is how disconcerting that noise is and how I always feel like the ferry is going to sink. It never does. I’ll probably never get to ride one of those life rafts. I suppose I’m okay with that.
~ On the bus. I feel like a rube. I haven’t been on Vancouver transit since the transfers were those paper strips with the holes punched in them. I don’t know what do do with the new kind with the magnetic strip. I don’t even know where to take it from. I say, “Can I have a transfer?” and the driver looks at me me and says, “Yeah… it’s right there….” When It comes time to transfer, I get on the next bus and just stare at the yellow strip that reads: Hey yokel, stick the damn transfer in this slot. So I do, wrong ways around I think, and I run to my seat. The driver has to redo it for me. I spend the entire ride through Chinatown checking the TransLink map I printed off the internet every two minutes. What am I? Amish?
~ In the car, drive there. Turns out Donald’s car is a stick-shift so I’m not helping witht he driving. Donald is a much faster and less attentive driver than one would assume. He seems shocked and upset every single time that yellow sign with the 90 degree arrow is followed by a tight curve. Every single time. You’d think after a few hours driving, this would cease to be a novelty. We round each one at no less than 90 km/h. We’re making record time. So long as we don’t end up going over one of these banks.
~ All these towns like Princeton and Osoyoos and Castlegar and Greenwood are making me appreciate Nanaimo more.
~ Donald is obsessed with roadkill. He identifies each one we see with his characteristic stutter. We actually saw a bird hit a car’s windshield and I think it was the most exciting moment of his week. David is obsessed with climate zones in BC. He’s asking me if that is sagebrush. I don’t know! Probably.
~ At the hotel. Dave from DNA is here at the restaurant. I think. We did the “nod’n’hey” thing. Oddly no one from my family asked how I knew him. More oddly, neither of us asked why we are here. Maybe it’s not him. Just some look-alike who felt he had to “nod’n’hey” because I was staring at him. I’ve noticed I’ve been staring like crazy at people lately.
~ I’m going through severe internet withdrawl. There’s people I want to communicate with. Grrr…
~ Next day in Nelson. Scratch Nelson off the list of potential town to move to. Too much hippie for my tastes. Too much insincere hippie crafts and self-important smugness at least. I can feel my blood turning to pachouli with every new-age pottery store we pass. The dude with the kilt, no shirt and a goat on a leash, is pretty… disgusting actually.
~ Pre-wedding. This wedding is packed with thin-girls and muscle-boys. I feel out of my element.
~ Post-wedding / reception. Someday I’d like to go to a wedding where I’m actually feeling celebratory for the couple. I don’t have ill-will towards this union. I guess I just don’t know either of them well enough to really get sentimental about it all. This DVD presentation the father of the bride made is the most atrocious tripe I have ever seen. I am crawling out of my skin. Everyone else is lapping it up like treacle, of course. I’m such a bastard. I’m not even human. My Gramma’s getting hammered though, that’s pretty rad.
~ There is one interesting looking girl here. I’m not going to talk to her. There’s enough interesting looking girls back home I don’t talk to. Maybe I should start talking to interesting looking girls. Or maybe I should just think about it for a while, and get back to them.
~ There’s guys from Germany in lederhosen here. And other guys from Scotland who’ve just changed into their kilts. I think it’s going to be a rumble. Or a dance off. Or a dance rumble…. Which side will I take? I have both German and Scottish blood. I think I side with the surly krauts. They don’t call themselves the Scotty Boys. Not shitting you. These highland pansies need a good dance-whoopin’ no… it appears to be line dancing to Shania Twain instead. Lame.
~ In the car, drive back. I thought the big meltdown was going to take place in the restaurant we stopped at in Princeton. David ordered the “Chaps Loaded Burger” which for some reason he thought wasn’t “loaded” and was convinced he actually ordered something else. I thought he wasn’t going to be able to handle it when the waitress wasn’t super understanding about it. I have no idea why he couldn’t just scrape off the cheese and bacon (which is what the restaurant ended up doing) but he seemed really freaked out about the cheese. I was beginning to wonder if he’d been able to keep up with his meds the past few days. Donald wasn’t making matters any better by insisting that David infact did order the “loaded” burger which David vehemently refuses he did. For a few seconds I though this would escalate but it cooled down once the kitchen brought his burger back without cheese.
~ Now Donald is about to melt-down because we’re almost out of gas. We have more than enough to get to Hope but they’re insisting on freaking out. MP3 player, more volume please.
~ On the ferry, almost. I don’t think this is going to be a Tracy boat. A Charlie boat by my calculations. That’s lame. Seeing Tracy on the boat was going to be a highlight of this trip.
~ They’re not letting us on the boat. There’s some sort of gas leak. They keep shunting us like cattle from one berth to another. People are ready to revolt. Except they’re doing that forced laughter thing like the whole group of them are trying to convince each other it’s a funny situation. That same laughter people use at speeches made by division reps at christmas parties. It’s not amusing, but laughing is better than succumbing to despair, I suppose. The young lesbian, of the may/december lesbian couple beside me, I’m convinced is an actress but I can’t place what I think I’ve seen her in. Something where she played a lesbian. A tough one. Her girlfriend ended up not being gay, I think? TV show? Canadian movie?
~ On the ferry. Gas leak was cleared up finally. No Tracy. In fact, no Nanaimo tourism person at all. Maybe Tracy exploded. Gosh, I hope not.
~ Home. Thank god I’m home. And Stephen’s not. Solitude.
~ It may seem like I’m pretty down on this trip but it was actually really good for me to get off the island. And also to be forced to do nothing for hours upon hours but think and resolve some issues within myself. For instance, in the car this morning I realized the vinegar in my heart has been purged. It’s sitting in a cup somewhere at the hotel, I guess. I left it behind.