It’s that time of year again. For the first time in five years, I’m not apart of the fun. Sorting, packing, sorting, sweating, hauling… I’m not moving. I actually really got used to moving. It became on of those yearly things. There’s a certain part of me that feels like I’m forgetting something. In fact, I’ve found myself looking at all the places for rent around town thinking that they would be a cool place to live. What’s the rent like? Wonder want kind of utilities might be included… Oh yeah, I already have an apartment for this next year. I don’t have to worry about it.

What really gets me is the waste people are putting out by the dumpsters. Perfectly good things that could be donated or taking to Goodwill. If you can haul it out and away, you can take it somewhere for some one who might be able to really use it. Clothes, books, CD racks… I just don’t understand it. I thought I moved away from the student ghettos to get away from this crap.

Getting back on central time has been difficult. Maybe that is stretching the truth just ever so slightly. It’s just hard to get back into the swing of things. Work isn’t the issue. I’m just keeping myself on the go with things that I haven’t had enough time to really keep the vacation that I had really sink it.

Part of it has to stem from the adventure through Chicago on the return trip. Flying on stand by isn’t for the weak. More so, it becomes really difficult when the weather decides to cause havoc with arrivals and departures to one of the busiest airports in the world. It was hot and sunny in Chicago when the plane left the ground in British Columbia. As we were making our way down to the ground, the captain relayed that the temperature had dropped by twenty degrees and the sky had turned rainy. A cold front blew through.

On the ground, I was told that there were no more flights going out that I could squeeze myself onto. Eventually, I made it home much later than I anticipated, but I would have to wait a day to pick up my bag which arrived in the state sooner than I did. In fact, it went to a different place than me all together. I’m young and can handle it. I just feel for those who were not as able to run all over the airport from gate to gate just to make that connecting flight. Seriously, while sitting on the plane waiting to push away from the gate, you could see back into the terminal the hundreds of people running… not hurrying… but running to their respective gates.

I love traveling.

It seems fitting that I’m sitting on the plane right now only to be sipping on Canada Dry Ginger Ale. It wasn’t my plan, I swear. I just kind of figured that since I only ate a blueberry scone and a cup of coffee this morning at the airport, this would be a good thing to hold me over until I land in Chicago. Time will shift on me by two hours and it’ll be dinner time when I get there. Then I have to make some sudden adjustments, wake up tomorrow morning, and go back to work at the station. It doesn’t seem real. In fact, it doesn’t really seem fair.

Vancouver is simply amazing. Rebecca took me to see so much and do so many things, but it really wasn’t as much as the city has to offer. Ate so many different types of food, saw so many different places and things… Spent the day at Cultus Lake where we swam in clear, fresh, cold water that runs down from the mountains. Walked and drove from one end of the city to the other. Ventured close to the coastline numerous times to hear the water lapp against the shore and smell the ocean air. Had dinner and drinks while meeting new friends. I cannot say that I did a lot of things to say that I did such and such thing while I was in Vancouver, but I saw and experienced as much as I could. To me, that’s more important. Plus I just loathe being a tourist.

There’s a lot more to say about the city, but it’s truly hard to convey. Sure, every place has its pitfalls; Vancouver is not heaven on earth where nothing ever goes wrong and everything is perfect all the time. What I can say is that it leaves me desiring very little else because everything I have seen and heard has been better than all of my expectations ever had about the city. What really trips me up is the fact that this is another country. The money is different. It’s washroom, not restroom. Hippy takes on a whole new meaning, yet alone different classifications. And I think I went to Starbucks nearly every single day. Amazing, I know, but there is something to be said about a good chi tea latte in the afternoon. It’s safe to say that this city loves its coffee.

I’m not ready to go back to my really real world. I feel like I have totally dropped off the fact of the earth and lost touch with what’s going on with the rest of the world. This is what taking a holiday should be like. Just letting everything drift away and getting lost in nothing but having a good time relaxing and taking in life. With company like I had while I was in Vancouver, it’d be next to impossible to not have something like that happen. It was up until yesterday that I forgot that I had to go back to Iowa. Tomorrow it all starts up again.

And so continues the adventure.

Today is the last day here. It seems as if I just got here, but I feel like I’ve been here for a lot longer than I have. It’s no surprise to me as to why things feel so comfortable here. Sure, this is a large city with so much going on and plenty of things to see and do, but it doesn’t feel like a metropolis as much as some of the other places I have seen in my life. New York hustles and moves at a hectic pace. So does Washington D.C., Mexico City, Tokyo, Yokohama, or the likes. Vancouver does in its own right, but it just feels different. It’s hard to explain other than to say that it flows. From walking to biking to driving, it all works. It’s comfortable. More so, that’s what it seems to me.

Canada is the country I have lived the closest to my entire life, and it has taken me this long to finally get up here. I couldn’t have asked for a better experience. It is absolutely beautiful here. I guess the days leading up to my arrival has been some of the wettest summers in history. Have yet to experience that. Everything else I have seen and done has been great. Rebecca has made my time here more memorable than I could ever hoped for or imagined. Everyday kicks off with a general idea of what to do and the day ends with lots of territory covered. She’s shown me a lot of the city and I already want to come back for more.

I wanted to do more posting while I’ve been here, but I just couldn’t get myself to sit down in front of my laptop long enough to get it all done. In fact, I’m meeting Rebecca for lunch soon during her break at work. Then I’m off to wander around downtown and just see what’s around. I’ll have to post this later.

At 38,000 feet, somewhere over Montana or Idaho… or somewhere… I’ve had a panic attack. I think I forgot my ipod at home. That’s such a horrible feeling. Sure, I can live without it for a week, but it’s amazing to realize how built in to my life it has become. And suddenly I feel myself hoping that I did indeed leave it behind and it wasn’t jacked from my bag somewhere between there and floating in midair.

It’s difficult to sit here in business class and type this with out wanting to rock out in my seat while listening to what I can on my laptop. I’m rocking out while other folks read the Wall Street Journal or do other important looking things. I’m off on holiday. What’s not to rock out about?

It’s been a tough past forty-eight hours. When you’re going on a trip, there’s so much to do before you actually leave. Life and work ramps up before the vacation can really begin. Then you’re so wiped out that you need the beginning to the vacation to kinda catch up and get ready for the rest of it. Then once you’re ready for that, vacation is over. Time to go back to the real life grind and you need another holiday to regroup from the vacation. Such a vicious cycle.

I’m off to Vancouver. Yeah, British Columbia. Canada. I’ve lived life this long and never been to the country north of home. I have to keep telling myself that this is an international trip. I keep freaking out as to if I’ve forgot my passport or not. Everyone I talk to tell me that I’ll love it there. “It’s your kind of town.” I’m not sure what that means, but I am pretty sure it’s going to be a wonderful time that will go by faster than I want it to.

Baseball is good. Hockey is good. When there is actually hockey to be talked about, that’s even better. Why it has become that I enjoy these two sports more than any others out there, I can’t really be sure. For a short period of time, I came to not care about anything involving sports in any aspect. The olympics are probably an exception; why it is that the 1,000 meter medley or ski jumping has the ability to captivate my attention for two weeks during a given two year cycle will forever be a mystery to me.

What’s even more interesting is that during the all-star game last night, my DVR kicked in to record the new episode of Rescue Me. The channel changed automatically on me, and it didn’t really bother me too much. I watched it instead. I’m such a sucker for pop culture. Plus I knew that while I got ready for work this morning, I could watch Sportscenter and get all the highlights I needed. I mean, we all knew the american league would win anyway. After Lee and Ramierz left the game, what was left to watch?

I have a heavy walker living above me. I can’t be too sure, but I think this person just moved in recently. I just did not catch it or was around to see this happen. For all I know, there is a whole herd of people living up there. And I’ve been in that apartment before. In fact, it’s identical to mine, and I know that it’s not very small. However, it’s not exactly big enough to run laps in like this person apparently does.

This person obvious likes to tromp around on the heel of their feet. It gives you that nice resonance to boom through the entirety of my place. To me, doing this always seemed worse on your feet. Wouldn’t you be better off wearing something to protect your heels from the pounding upon the floor?

I know some people who do this at work. You can hear them coming down the hallway, and that says a lot because these are cement floors we’re talking about. If it’s a comfort issues, that’s one thing. If you are doing this because it’s better for your feet, I’m going to have to disagree with you on this one.

I’ve been able to land some freelance gigs again lately. It’s nice to have some extra income, but the little recordings themselves have some interesting content to them. It’s like going to lecture in college, but this time you’re actually interested versus fighting off the urge to sleep. Historical facts and data that come from people who are the experts in the area they are talking about. They’ve wrote the book and proven it to be valid. Next thing you know, they’re on some sort of documentary about the subject. I can say, “Hey, I recorded that person’s voice once and got paid by the hour to do it.”

Life has been busy. It’s like I have a job or something.