chickens are really hard to hold

Regarding my last post, I found an image to illustrate my feelings on the matter:

Just in case you can't read it, it's from The Holiday when Kate Winslet discovers the boy she likes is actually engaged to someone else, and she tries to kill herself. Then she realizes that's a stupid thing to do, so she sticks her head out the window and slaps herself in the face. "Low point!" she says. "Low point."

Anyway, that was a low point for me. Yesterday and today went MUCH BETTER, which is surprising to me because on the weekends, which is when that post took place, I get to sleep in; on the week days I get up bright and early to take my little mister for a walk before I go to work.

Speaking of walks, I have met more people from my apartment building in the last week than I have in the entire seven months I've been here. For one thing I leave my apartment more than I used to, and for another thing a lot of people can't resist approaching a puppy. Also, I think it gives people a non-threatening way to interact - I don't know their names and they don't know mine, but they know Charlie's. I've met a lot of rough looking gentlemen who would have intimidated me before, but puppies generally have the same effect on everyone; even rough looking gentlemen. (Unless you have no soul. Then you are exempt from this.)

You know when you're walking by yourself and a car approaches, and you swear it's slowing down as it approaches you and you start freaking out and imaging that you are moments away from being kidnapped? That has happened to me SEVERAL times, except that instead of being in my imagination like usual it's actually legitimately a car slowing down as it approaches me, but instead of kidnapping me all they want to do is point and coo at my puppy.

I have a FOR REAL for real blister from exercise! I am so excited. It's because of all the walking I am doing. I am doing a TON of walking. All over the place! Besides meeting millions of people and being stopped in the middle of the street, I have also noticed that either one person smokes pot ALL THE TIME in my neighbourhood, or else there are a lot of people who smoke pot. But I guess that unless they are driving while high and run me over because they are too chill to notice me, pot is the least of most evils if someone in my neighbourhood is going to be on a drug.

Also I am going to have buns of steel when you see me next. Sometimes I feel my will to live seep out of me with every step I take up the GIANT HILL back to my apartment, but then I realize how dumb it would look to just stand in the middle of a hill like an idiot, so I press on. Plus, I have a little energizer bunny pulling me along. Then I tell myself, use that larger-than-average behind you have, and I propel myself onwards. Soon I will not be able to tell myself that my behind is larger than average, because I walk a million times a day now, up a billion hills. It's pretty fantastic.

One last thing: in Socials class today, one student wanted to go down to the office and pick up something his dad had dropped off. Naturally, every single other student wanted to help him carry it. One student peppered me with questions in his eagerness to get sent along. "What is it? Is it a table? A desk? A chicken? Chickens are really hard to hold."

Maybe you had to be there, but that last part just killed me. Oh, grade sevens. How I will miss you.

a prickly cactus, a barbed wire bulldog

I talk about poo and wedgies in this one. And mostly complain. Just FYI.

After much effort, I finally found some runners. Like every other kind of store, Campbell River doesn't offer much in the way of athletic shoe stores, so I was losing hope until I went to this one place that had runners with purple on them. That pretty much decided it for me, plus they were in my budget. (Not having bought runners in about 10 years, I found that I had to up my budget dramatically from my initial idea, but these seemed fairly reasonable compared to all the rest.) When I emerged from my apartment with Charlie on our afternoon jaunt, it felt strange to take steps! Almost like my feet weren't actually stepping at all, just kind of hovering. They were heavier than I was used to, like being dressed in battle gear, but it felt good. Like I was an athlete!

Then Charlie pooed in someone's driveway, and yanked the leash out of my hand so it fell in the poo. When I picked it up, it got on both sleeves of my jacket and also on the poo bag holder. Then I discovered I had a wedgie situation, but there was nowhere secret to go to remedy that. Then, even though I thought I dressed appropriately for the weather with my windbreaker and a long sleeved shirt, the sweat-switch in my body flipped on for every single one of my pores, and suddenly there was a sweat-layer sandwiched in between my skin and clothing. Maybe I'm the only one who is like this, but when I get sweaty I hate everything until I can become less sweaty, but I was still several blocks from home. In poo-covered sleeves, with a wedgie.

I came home and gave my dog a bone with cheese to occupy him while I sit in my room and become less angry.

i left my body at the top of the hill

I live pretty close to the beach. I can see the ocean from a few places in my apartment if I stand on my tip-toes, and it’s maybe a five minute drive to the sea walk. I thought, hey, why don’t I walk to the beach? Yesterday I spent most of the day watching episodes of Popular, so I could probably use the fresh air. Mother and I had planned on walking to the beach while she was here, but never got a chance, but from our plan I knew it wasn’t actually that close via walking. I’d have to walk down a hill, and then on the Island Highway for a bit, and then I’d get to the sea walk. Today, I optimistically wore my sweat pants and runners, and set out for the beach.

After about five minutes of walking, I started to get a sinking feeling. Walking to the beach was going to be super easy, because it’s all downhill; walking home from the beach was going to be a disaster, because it’s all up hill. However, even with this in mind I just wanted to see how far it was. Walking beside the highway was a bit scary because I was on the side with no sidewalk (keep in mind that when I say “highway” it is not a highway like on the mainland. It’s one lane both ways, but it’s still a busy road) but I persevered until I made it to the beginning of the sea walk. Fifteen minutes, only! Although because of the steep downhill the whole way my legs felt a bit funny. I walked for a bit on the sea walk, and discovered it to be a misnomer: for the first while, it is actually just a regular sidewalk because houses and apartment buildings have taken over the beach and inserted themselves between the seawalk and the ocean. So I gave up and turned around, because I was anticipating an awful uphill battle and it was taking too long to see the ocean.

Walking home was just as bad as I’d thought it would be. I was good at the first big hill, because I just kept putting one foot in front of the other at a steady pace, but then I came to the part where I had to cross the highway – there was a crosswalk, but not one with lights so I didn’t know if anyone would actually stop for me. They did, and because I didn’t want to take twenty minutes to cross the street with cars waiting impatiently on either side, I ran across. Then I didn’t want to look like an idiot who just runs across the street and then walks the rest of the way, so I ran up the hill for a bit until I thought all the cars who’d seen me were gone. HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS. That was a terrible idea. I was debating collapsing on someone’s lawn for a recuperation break, but remembered from high school PE that you are not supposed to suddenly stop moving after exerting yourself. So I kept going. Up and up and up the stupid hill back to my apartment. Then I had to climb a flight of stairs because I feel silly taking the elevator up one floor, plus it’s a creepy elevator who is never quite sure if it’s going to open the doors for you or not.

As soon as I’d locked the front door behind me, I threw all my clothes in the laundry and jumped in the shower. I haven’t exercised like that since I moved all my stuff into my apartment. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sore tomorrow. What was I thinking? Wearing sweatpants does not automatically make me athletic. Maybe next time I will drive down to the beach and THEN walk. Or challenge myself and find a slightly more gradual way home. We’ll see.