What better kind of holiday is there than Victoria Day? No obligation to really celebrate anything because, really, what are we going to do? Cover all tables with giant tablecloths lest their legs show and suggest human legs and what's between them? Wear corsets? Get syphilis from a whore? No, no, gentle Canadians, it's called May 2-4 for a reason. Nothing to do but chill-ax and enjoy the onset of summer.
Today Jeremy and I wandered around the green slopes of West Van and out onto the Dundarave Pier where we tried to continue our conversation but I was having a hard time paying full attention because I forgot how Vancouver looks in the summer, which is really really beautiful. No really, like really really really beautiful. The ocean and the trees are such dark colours of green and blue that when the sun finally hits them you could look at them all day and still see new colours. Soon it will be warm enought to swim, or warm enough to swim without feeling like your chest is going to seize up into a massive heart attack.
In other Vancouver news (and I may be getting paid cash-money to write that in the near future, I'll keep you posted), I went by MEC the other day and replaced my missing Nalgene bottle and also my falling-apart backpack. Though the backpack is practical, I'm starting to feel too old for it, so I went for a messenger bag. It's cheap, well-made, could look more or less professional and bad for my back. All the Grouse Grinders in the store were delightful, as was noting the "outdoor sports" area of town on Broadway that has grown up around the MEC store. All it needs now is a Scientology Center (Church? Landing Site?).
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1 comment:
You and Jeb didn't piss on a certain famous popstar's porch in broad daylight, did you?
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