So, I am back in Calgary. It is the same as I left and I feel only slightly different than when I left. Mostly I feel older and somewhat wiser, you know; if in my brilliance I thought that the latter was possible or necessary. So, yeah. Mostly older. The whole Korean bed situation did a number on my back and the company I kept did a number on my face and can be credited for a wealth of laugh lines.
Prior to my return I had quite a few predictions about what would be my process of reacclimatizing to the culture at home after my year in the Durrrrrty J. A lot of them have proved super accurate in that I am dropping eaves worse than Sam Wise Gamgee outside of Bilbo’s place. I’ve always suspected that I have rather bionic hearing and my skills in this respect have had to lay more or less dormant over the course of the past 12 + months since I was surrounded by the constant buzz of hacking and spitting of a language I didn’t understand.
So far I have witnessed a rather hushed breakup in Starbucks, a woman’s confession to her sister that her daughter was pregnant and unmarried, as well as a debatably racist comment towards a barista. In truth the culprit of latter of this list was I when I busted my anyeong skills on the barista at the local Starbucks just because she was Asian. I don’t know if the fact that she didn’t understand me makes it better or worse. I was also clutching my right elbow with my left hand and bowing while handing her my debit card. Were I any thinner she might have thought I was concealing my track lines and hanging my head in shame while in a drug-induced delirium.
What I didn’t think would be strange were small everyday things like paying for things with debit and having to a) swipe your own card and b) type in your pin number instead of just doodling genitals on a sign-pad and pretending that it is your initials. In reality, I’m lucky enough for my actual initials and genitals to be the samesies. Type a lowercase d and and p in succession and try not to giggle, why don’t you? Then write the same two letters in cursive. HA! Maturity! Anyone know some good fart jokes?
These are all just the ramblings of a mad white woman less than 24 hours after returning home. I'm sure as time goes on there will be more to report. I'm less sure that I will find the time and/or motivation to do so. All that I can do is promise to try, and I’m not even going to do that.
