An American Blogger Goes Canadian

I’m back from Canada, bitches. And guess what? They can’t take your kinder eggs if they’re inside you. Sorry miss! Miss! We’re going to need to do a full body scan to see if you I KNEW IT, RED ALERT. THERE’S A TOY CAR, I REPEAT. TOY. CAR.

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Nevertheless, I had a great trip. Gracious hosts, cool people, so much food. The only thing that had me slightly bummed out is the horrible array of IPAs up north. Portland bar? Please choose from 150 locally crafted IPAs. Canada? TAKE YER STOUT ABOOT EH AND IF YEH DON’T LIKE IT YOU CAN SHOVE A SOUR KEY UP YER. Okay. Anyways, it was the best. Gastown! Downtown! Kits! Hot tubbing at UBC! I finally got to make the rounds and feel like my neighbors to the north are a little less of a mystery.
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There’s something about coming home that’s just so rejuvenating after a trip away. Especially a trip away without LTE coverage. Do you have wi-fi? Do you have wi-fi? In Canada people aren’t assholes and most of the time I didn’t even know what kind of phone people had because they kept them in their bags like civilized people. Slow clap.

I’ve been learning something else, too. When someone asks you what you do for a living don’t look away and mutter under your breath. YOU’RE AN IMPORTANT SUNFLOWER AND YOU’RE MAJESTICAL. If people don’t know who you are and what you do and what you’re struggling with in your life after the first hour you’ve failed and it’s too late to ever go back again. You’re basically just the goldfish who died, bloated, floated upside down in the tank, and was discovered a week later because no one liked to look at you anyways.

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Though Canada doesn’t really feel foreign (everything in English, they have a Nordstroms, bathrooms look the same, they don’t walk on their hands) it did help me sharpen my foreign-travel skills for our upcoming European adventure. I feel better at getting around on my own. I feel better at not sounding like a complete tool.

Extra-special thanks again to my hosts, and to my friends who were able to visit. Biggest thanks of all to my boyfriend who gifted the whole affair to me. I apologize for relentlessly begging to know what my Christmas present was two weeks before Christmas. This year will be different. Probably.

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