Last Day of “Freedom,” MY FIRST DAY AT WORK AT THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT, & the Last Chapter of My Magnificent Trip to Mexico (Merida, Cancun, Bungee Jumping, Isla Mujeres & Montreal)

Shalom,

 

So today is my last day as an untethered young buck. Tomorrow I start my job as Junior Program Officer, affiliated with the Joint/Union Management Task Force on Diversity & Inclusion in the Public Service, in the Treasury Board Secretariat of the Canadian Federal Government! Now how prestigious (and intimidating) does that sound? I’m so excited about it! And a bit nervous! And not really sure what to expect! But definitely ready to begin! Wouhou!

How am I spending my last taste of freedom? I woke up early, as I’m trying to reset / regularize my sleep schedule, and sipped iced coffee while reading about The Challenge (the finale of its spinoff Champs vs Pros aired on Tuesday night, and the new season premieres in less than a month). Then went for a short bike ride, got the newspaper, and ate a late breakfast out on the balcony while completing the crossword and reading some articles. Now I’m working on this blog post, going to yoga at 5, and I have my weekly Pandemic Legacy game later tonight. Then likely an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 6 (just witnessed the iconique Laganja breakdown, and okurrrr mawma, it was everything, just too f***ing much, SUCH a disaster) and an early bedtime – because tomorrow, I’m at the office at 9am! Whuuttt! Insanity.

And considering how I’ll be out of town all day Saturday & Sunday – I’m helping Tsarina Tsybina move to Toronto by renting a car, picking up ridesharers, driving to Montreal, loading the minivan, heading to T-Dot, listening to the S-Town podcast, sleeping overnight, attending the Pride Parade, then driving back to Ottawa Sunday evening – I need to finish up blogging ‘bout Mexico. I know I sound like a broken record by now, so I’m just gonna get it out of the way, so we can move onto other topics. Plus, after tomorrow, I feel I’ll have much more to discuss – and also much less energy to do so. I know starting working again is going to be exhausting and have a sharp learning curve. I’m prepared for it, but I’m not necessarily looking forward to the adjustment period. Plus I want to continue hitting the gym, so hopefully I’ll have the wherewithal to do that. But it’s that famous paradox, isn’t it? Working out actually gives you more energy, despite everything you expend in the process. I suppose it’s about putting your stamina to the test, depleting it, so you have more in general. I’m not totally sure. But I hope that the past six weeks have conditioned me to be able to last longer and be more energetic.

So let’s get to it, shall we?

 

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Day 11: Merida & Cancun

 

Woke up early, enjoyed the quality hostel breakfast, packed my stuff up, and put it “closed with a key” (cerrado con llave) in the locker. Then hurried down to the main plaza, where there was a free walking tour, which are a great way to explore a city. You can wander around yourself, certainly – and that is what I predominately do – but then there’s so much nuance and history and interesting factoids that you miss when you don’t have somebody there to explain / introduce it to you. I was meeting Fritzi there, and we even waited up for her, but she never showed. That’s one frustration of traveling abroad. You get so accustomed to being able to communicate with others at a moment’s notice when you’re back home – due to WiFi or data on your mobile – so when you’re without that, it goes back to the old-fashioned ways of doing things, pre-cell phones. I kinda like it, though. It’s a return to simpler times. If they show up, great – and if not, well, you can’t get upset about it. These things happen. And it turns out that there were actually two walking tours departing at the same time nearby each other – so she went to the other one, where she was also wondering where I was. Shame, since I wanted to hang out with her again, but what can ya do?

The walking tour was very informative. We learned about the big Cathedral, toured the church, wandered through a free museum in a government building, and checked out the brilliant architecture of other edifices in the city. Lots of wealth families lived in Merida once upon a time, due to the production of sisal, a plant fibre that is woven into rope. The industry boomed and richesse came with it – along with opulent homes and colonial architectural details and luxe living spaces. As well as enormous haciendas outside the city, that I unfortunately missed out on (you can’t do it all). Nowadays, many of these have been converted into upper-crust hotels and palatial estates for the bougie travelers to enjoy. Me, I prefer that hostel and couchsurfing life. All the better to meet people and truly experience an area!

We also walked down this road in which all the shops had these fish tanks / terraria with these cockroach-looking bugs in them for sale. The kicker is that they were all bejeweled, with gold chains and sparkly gems and the like. They’re called makech, and the apparently immobilize themselves when they’re touched. So the idea is, you hang them on y our top like a brooch, and it just dangles there without crawling anywhere. And when you put them back in their cage, they resume movement. It’s living art, a bit macabre, interesting, eye-catching. Like the blinged-out roaches on America’s Next Top Model. I wouldn’t personally do it, but I do think it’s cool.

And the legend behind it is that there was this affluent father (maybe a king?) with a daughter (possibly a princess) that he gave anything she ever desired. After his conquests, he would always bring back a gift for his darling daughter. Except one time, she wanted one of the slaves (or maybe a prisoner) that her father won due to his victory – but he wasn’t having any of it. She disobeyed him, went behind his back, and had a torrid love affair with this slave – only to be caught by the king. To punish her, he turned her lover into a beetle, and the markech adornments were born! Quite the unique souvenir, they would be. But unfortunately, the shopkeepers even charged for you to take a picture of them, so I have none. Google-image search that ish if you’re so inclined.

Our lovely tour guide also told us the history of those white twin-chairs you see everywhere. Similar to the previous old-fashioned story, a father created these chairs so that his daughter could sit and talk with her lover, but they had a barrier between them so it wouldn’t go too far. And of course, the father could sit and watch them converse. How creepy and overbearing is that? #SmashthePatriarchy! Nonetheless, the seats are pretty cool and unique. Another standout image from Merida.

We ended the expedition at this great museum / artists’ residence in a converted old abode. Merida is a very popular city these days with young adults. It seems a bit hipster to me, actually. Very artsy and new-fashioned and up-and-coming. Like Bed Stuy. With artisanal ice cream shops owned by Polish immigrants to trendy art galleries to expensive espresso to La Negrita Cantina. It’s good stuff. Keidan really recommends it. Me, I didn’t love it, but I’m still glad I visited.

After that, I tipped the guide (since it’s not actually free, and she deserved it anyhow) then had to dash. I had bought my bus ticket the day prior for 1pm, and so happy I did, because every seat was taken, and all of the other passengers had kids and snacks and blankets with them. They’re resident pros, on the long bus ride from Merida to Cancun. Like 4-5 hours. Thank Dios there was air-conditioning.

Oooohh! Two funny stories. I bought the ticket from a travel agent off the main square, but due to my annoying frugality instincts, I missed out on a much cheaper one early in the morning, because I didn’t trust her word and walked to the bus station to check it out myself. And by the time I got back, there were no vacancies left. Of course. Don’t get me wrong, I like how I’m money-savvy and don’t go throwing it away – because then I can afford things I really care about (like travel) and not just be profligate with impulsive purchases or eating out – but it does annoy me sometimes. Just another characteristic of mine I’m working on.

Anyway, the funny story is that after I made the transaction, this woman asked me about my nail polish (which was orangey-red at the time). She spoke no English, so what was already a dicey conversation became more difficult. I told her I like the colour, and me gusta romper las expectaciones del género (I like to break gender expectations), and why not? She probably asked if I’m gay too, so I told her, “Soy bi,” pronounced like “bee.” Maybe I said “Estoy bi” ? I don’t exactly remember. Hispanoblantes – help me out here. Do you use ser or estar when discussing sexual orientation? Because sexuality is fluid sometimes, but for most people most times, it is a staid and consistent identity. So which is preferred?

Regardless. That’s me. Being a tiny bit gender non-conforming & educating about queer issues wherever I am! Can’t stop / won’t stop.

The other amusing anecdote is more cringey than funny. After the walking tour, I’m on the hunt for a cold coffee, so I can actually accomplish stuff on the long bus ride. Plus, it helps with the heat, and you know how I love my iced americanos. So I pass this place which has a sign promoting their special – a croissant and a coffee for, I dunno, 40 pesos? A good price – comparable to the other places, but with a lil pastry thrown in. I needed a snack too, so it was perfect. I go in, and inquire if I can get it to go, and order an iced espresso with un poquitito de leche and a croissant to this woman. And then this man comes over, and he asks for my order too, so I repeat it. He describes the croissants with more detail, so I order one with cheese and pesto. Uhmm, yes please!

It takes much longer than expected, and I’m fretting because I don’t want to miss my bus, and then he comes out with this big box – the croissant sandwich and fries and the coffee to go. And a bill, for much more than the sign said. And that’s where the chagrin/humour comes in. Apparently he told me the special was just a regular croissant (which is what I wanted, cool) but offered the other, fancier, pricier sandwiches, and since my Spanish is imperfecto, I didn’t follow that it wasn’t included in the deal. Even the coffee was more expensive! Because apparently he gave me a double, when I didn’t ask for it. Ugh. Like the guy who tried to rip me off / overcharge me for the cold brew in Tulum when all I wanted was espresso over ice.

So this guy doesn’t speak English and won’t back down. I tell him to get his manager – who also is only monolingual – and for the entire ordeal, I’m really stressing out about all the time it’s taking. I even considered just leaving everything there, giving a couple coins for the little bit of coffee I drank, and peacing the F out, because my departure was looming and I still had to collect my stuff from the hostel and then hustle to the bus station. I wasn’t trying to get chased by the policia, though, so I opted not to sip & dash. The manager sided with me and just charged me for the coffee (which was still more than their sign said, but whatever, I’m not going to squabble about a buck or two), so I paid up, kinda enjoyed how she let me do that when the other employee was so upset (why so pressed, bro?), and get the heck outta dodge.

Actually ran into the two older Canadian guys at the bus station, too, serendipitously – Robin and his travel companion – then got a lil snack of empanadas from an adorable old lady on the side of the road, and another coffee, then boarded that bus. Watched Scream Queens and listened to a podcast and eventually got back to where I started: Cancun.

Checked into the same hostel, was happy to see my amigos who work there again (Daniel, Martin, that Canuck guy with the tattoos and his wife), dropped my bag off, and found dinner. Went to La Res Sabrosa, by recommendation of Daniel (and corroborated by TripAdvisor), and enjoyed a phenomenal alambre – which, as Wiki says, is “grilled beef topped with chopped bacon, bell peppers, onions, cheese, salsa and avocado.” Kinda like the orden I got on my first day in Mexico – a make-your-own taco platter. Delicious.

Then I picked up some canned cocktails from the 7/11 across Avenida Tulum, hopped on the R2, and went to the Zona Hotelera. I first went to Playa Tortugas, where the bungee jumping place is, and managed to get there in time to actually see somebody jump and inquire about the process, rates, experience, etc. They told me I could do it right then, but after the dinner I just had, I didn’t think it was the best idea. Plus, I wanted to do it during the daytime, so I could enjoy the panoramic view from atop the tower. And to be honest, I was cowed. So I reserved my spot for the following day. Oh, and they even offered me a discount before I opened my mouth to ask about it. Immediately knocked ten off the price, for only $50 US. Now that’s a deal!

For the rest of the night, I wandered around the Zona, sat on the beach, sipped my drinks, read my book, watched some of the debauchery at the biggest clubs there (Coco Bongo, La Vaqueria, Mandala), and eventually meandered back to the hostel, where I chatted with the other guests and sat on the outdoor patio and ate everything up. What a life.

 

Day 12: Cancun & Bungee Jumping & Isla Mujeres

I woke up especially excited for the day. I enjoyed the breakfast, sun-screened, psyched myself up, grabbed an iced coffee, caught the shuttle, and headed straight for Playa Tortugas again – before I lost my nerve. Marched right to the Adventure Bay kiosk, signed the waiver, paid the fee, and took a couple minutes to gather my thoughts. But after I came all this way and announced it on Facebook and Snapchat and made my mind up, there’s no way I was backing down.

So I climb up the steep wooden stairs, get 80 feet above the water, and really enjoy the view. It’s gorgeous. White sand beaches, turquoise waters, the sun is shining, I have spectators watching from the beach below. I convince the instructor the take some pictures of me with my own phone – probably against the rules, but whatever – then get the photographer to carry it down safely for me. Get strapped into the ankle harness, and it’s surprisingly weighty – but that’s reassuring. You’re not dealing with peanuts safety features, here. And believe you me, I did my research into the company before signing up. I’m not a total idiot.

Then I pose for more pictures with the official photographer, squinting in the sun, and then walk the plank. The instructor is there the whole time, so I’m not completely scared out of my wits. He already told me all about how the process would go, what I had to do, the proper poses, etc. So I was prepared, and not scared. My heart might have been beating pretty fast, but I felt remarkably cool-headed. I get to the precipice of the wooden platform, toes gripping the very edge, and gaze out upon everything. It was such a remarkable sight, absolutely gorgeous. Paradise, heaven on earth, everything.

I wave at the people watching 80 feet below, spread my arms as I’m supposed to, and that’s when my heart jumps to my throat. I get an immediate surge of total terror, my instincts telling me that this is super stupid – but I’m positive it’s safe, and I watched other people do it, and I know that if I overthink it, I’ll get in my head and be too pusillanimous to do it. So I push the fear out of my mind and fall forward with zero hesitation. Legitimately – I wasted no time. And was impressed with myself for doing that, when I’ve suffered acrophobia for most of my life.

And, literally in the blink of an eye, the initial fall is over. I remember at the last second to go into the dive position, I splash down in the Caribbean Sea, then rebound back up, bungeed afloat, and bounce around a couple times. It’s hard to gauge where in space I am, since all the brilliant colours are blurring together, there’s salt water in my eyes, and I’m moving fast. I catch glimpses of the boats in the marina, the wooden tower, the beach, the sky and horizon and ocean, and before you know it – I’m reaching out to grab the ring they held out, catch it, and am slowly towed back to terra firma.

When I’m on my back on the pier, I immediately use the bottom of my “Living Young, Wild, and Free” frat tank top (SUCH a bro) to wipe my eyes of the seawater that got in them – and apparently everybody thought I was crying and taking care of my tears. Nope, that is not what happened. I loved every second of the bungee jump, and was disappointed that it was over and done with so soon! I definitely want to experience it again, but next time from higher up. This one was only 70-80’ of a plummet, which seems like suicide when you’re standing on the brink – but it all passes by in such a hurry. So I can’t wait to do it again.

I was the first daredevil of the day, too – so that was quite the way to shake up my morning!

And then, after riding the afterglow for a while, marveling that I had the courage to do that – when I was all alone and had nobody there to cheer or encourage me – I bought my ticket to Isla Mujeres, boarded the ferry, and sailed the ocean blue. They even had live music on the boat, which was pretty cool – this guy playing the guitar and singing covers in Spanish. Neato mosquito.

For those of y’all who don’t know, Isla Mujeres is a very popular tourist destination in Mexico. Common for those that get to the country via cruise ship. It’s famous for its snorkeling and scuba diving around a coral reef of it. But it also features this underwater museum called Musa – in which sculptures were created and then sunken to the ocean floor, for people to see through goggles and with air tanks. Awesome stuff, especially with how the various flora + fauna cover these statues and kind of “reclaim” them. It was established in order to compete with the reef, since all the tourism it receives takes a toll on the health of the coral and plants. Such a shame for that to happen, so I love this initiative they thought of. Where else can you go see art underwater? Probably somewhere, I’m sure, but it’s not too common.

However, I didn’t do any of this. It was my last day in Mexico, so I didn’t want to take out tonnes of pesos to afford all these expeditions and risk having leftover currency. My big #yolo expense was the bungee jumping, something I’ve been wanting to try for years, and the tattoo, which I’ll discuss later. So instead, I wandered around the town section of Isla Mujeres, which reminded me of Hilo, Hawaii. A nice beach town, baked by the sun, with lots of kitschy shops and restaurants with outdoor patios and people lazily walking around.

I hit up Playa Norte, which was highly recommended by the travel sites, and plunkered myself down in the shade of a palm. Read my book, enjoyed the sights, breathed in the fresh air and luxuriated in the sea breeze. Eventually I stashed my stuff in a bush and went in search of this mini-reef I overheard some Americans discussing on the ferry over. Splashed along in the water with my goggles and Speedo, swam underneath this bridge that connected the glitzy hotel Mia Reef to the rest of the island, and found an aquamarine wonderland. There were rocks out where the waves reach the lagoon, kinda like a natural breakwater, and all around them were all these adorable fish. I floated near them, loved their flashy colours, and even spotted some turtles, swordfish, and a flippin’ barracuda! Fortunately I escaped with all my limbs and bodily integrity.

Then returned to my stuff, which luckily was all still there (in addition to my fingers and toes), laid down on the beach to dry off, then went in search of food. Stopped in a store to ask a local for recommendations, but they place he advised was nowhere to be found. So I strolled down the pedestrian roads, checking out all the menus, and wow, was everything overpriced. Which goes hand-in-hand with how touristy the area is. To be expected. I ended up at the place that looked the most authentic. It was small, literally ran out of the kitchen of somebody’s residence, the menu was nothing fancy, and there were (what appeared to be actual) Mexicans eating there too. Always a good sign when the locals patronize the same restaurant!

I had guacamole and a quesadilla, and it was all delicious. They had a serve-yourself salsa and salad bar, as well, so I capitalized upon that too. I wish I knew the name of the establishment, to recommend to you all, but I can’t even find it on Google Street View. Ah well.

Then back to the ferry station, but I apparently misread my ticket and had to kill another 45 minutes. No problem, though! More exploring, got an iced espresso, and sat watching the boats go in and out of the marina / reading “Truly Madly Guilty.”

Then boarded the board, was treated to more live music on the ~sunset cruise~ back to the mainland, and I even managed to get back when Adventure Bay / the bungee jumping place was still open! So I went straight for the photographer’s stand and tried my best to haggle them down. The prices they charge for their photos is nigh criminal. $35 for like 30 photos? Yeah, it’s gonna be a no from me, dawg.

The lowest he would go was $25 for the photos and the video for it, when I only wanted to give a twenty. So I played hardball, and was just like, “Well, fine, no deal. It’s either you take this $20 and give it to me, or I walk away, you delete the photos and make no money. They’re worth nothing to you. Might as well make some more cash before you close for the night.” And no, that was not all in Spanish, because I don’t think I’m that skilled at my second language (just yet). But it worked! And now I’m the proud owner of some hi-res pictures AND the video of me defying death! Yay!

Satisfied, I returned to the hostel, showered off, researched tattoo parlours, then struck out on the hunt. The place that was best reviewed was unfortunately closed when I finally managed to find it – after serendipitously running into my Canadian pal Robin (from Merida) AND wandering through a city fair / block party – so I stopped in this trendy-looking menswear store that sold expensive Speedos, asking for another recommendation. It happened to be just around the corner, so I headed straight to Placer y Dolor (Pleasure and Pain). Met with the artist and tried my best to explain the idea in Spanish, which was not as easy as it sounds, despite how simple the design was going to be. He quotes me a price, but again, I’m playing aloof – and it works out again! He immediately drops it down to about $40 US, if I do it tonight.

So I tell him, great, I need to take some cash out though. And I wanted to walk around and mull it over for a bit, before submitting to being poked with a needle many times over in an LDC with somebody who I couldn’t communicate with that well. But, you know what, I read the reviews, it had numerous positive testimonies, and whatever, no biggie. So I did it! And I have no regrets! It was quick, cheap, not excruciating, and still looks good! Yay!

I got the outlines of two equilateral triangles pointing to each other on the outside of my left wrist, where my watch goes (and can cover it if I need to). So it resembles a basic, geometric hourglass – but the upside-down triangle stands for queer pride as well, and the right-side up one represents delta, for change. And incidentally, the two of them together also mean fire and water, or balance / duality / etc – but that was just an extra +1, not the reason I went for that design. And now it’s tattoo #7! To tie up with my body piercings! (3 in each ear and 1 nipple)

Finally, with my ultimate night in Meh-hee-ko, I got some more cheap-ass tacos al pastor along Avenida Tulum, at the place the Kiwi Couple recommended way back when, then sat on the patio with the hostel workers / guests, and soaked in the lovely balmy night air one more time.

 

Day 13 & 14 & 15: Cancun + Montreal + Ottawa

Wake up, last hostel breakfast, grabbed my stuff, got a final iced americano, schlepped to the ADO station, got to hang out in the air-conditioned premium lounge reading about Drag Race, listen to the Brain Candy Podcast en route the airport, then only have about a half hour to wait at the gate (since it took me an unexpected while to check in at the counters, Dios knows why, I had only a carry-on). Have my layover in Philly, take my time walking through all the terminals looking for lunch, finally settle on an iced coffee and bagel from Au Bon Pain, the cashier says she thinks my conch piercing is cute and I’m adorable, aw thanks girl, then jetset to Montreal.

It takes forever going through customs, but eventually I make it through, hop on the shuttle to downtown, meet beautiful KyKy at Ganadara, grab the key, and finally relax when I get to his place. He surprises me a half hour later, as I’m sitting in just my underwear on the couch, resting before I got the energy up to shower – but he brought food from the restaurant! Awwww what a darling! ❤

Crash soon after, despite my intentions to go for a walk and experiencing the city that still feels like the most like home to me. Sleep like a log, wander round the city, indulge in another decadent but delicious poutine from Dirty Dogs, do some sightseeing, meet up with Ky & Mike MF Chan at Brutopia for a 5a7, love the raspberry beer, bus to the Mile End and hang out with Bren “G-Frog” Prouse for a lil while, play some Sm4sh, then metro to Atwater Forum to meet Ouliana to finally see Get Out (since Ottawa is severely lacking cinemas in its central core). We stroll back along Ste-Catherine afterward, get a quick bite from Burger King (I clearly was #cleaneating during these couple days), and plan how we’ll move her to Toronto during June. Well, guess what, that’s happening tomorrow! Believe it, squirrelfriend!

With my last day, more aimless walking around, get a banh mi with Melody (who out of nowhere gives me free nail polish – WOW thanks so much, the white paint is exactly what I wanted!) at the perennial Vua, grab coffee with Torchic, then get my rideshare back to lovely ol’ Ottawa. And the rest is history: the post-travel blues and unemployed doldrums and not loving my life situation, especially after how spectacular Mexico was.

 

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And that’s that! The remainder of my travel blogging about Mexico. Who knows when the next exotic trip abroad will be? Not until November at the earliest, since that is when my casual contract with the Treasury Board ends.

Bi the gay, I had my first day on the job today – which I’ll discuss in more detail later – but a quick summary:

Everyone was very friendly, all the documents I was given to read (a huge amount) interest me, I have a nice private office/cubicle, it’s not hellishly open-concept, I met my colleagues and my boss’s boss, received uplifting and flattering advice from my supervisor, got the security badge to enter the buildings and my own laptop and email and login info etc and feel so legit about the whole thing. And ironically, the dream I had right before waking up at 7:30 this morning included my previous boss assaulting me and me feeling powerless to change it, but still giving an impassioned and affecting speech about it to the crowd gathered there. Hm, how telling is that, huh?

I now work Monday-Friday from 8:30-4:30, and it’s not micro-managey, and I don’t feel defeated or even that daunted by anything. I’m absurdly excited about it. Can’t wait to truly sink my teeth into this Diversity & Inclusion Task Force work! Yay!

 

Ciao for now. I’m off to gym, shower, and then head to Ernie’s for the RPDR Season 9 Finale with frands! Sickening!

 

Love y’all,

 

– Jefe

Job Update, My Summer Sublet, Tulum, Coba Ruins, Valladolid, Cenote-Swimming, Cliff-Jumping, Travel Buddies, & Modeling Underwear for Charity

Good afternoon,

 

It is roughly 3:30 on the last day of May, and I am sitting on the large balcony of my new apartment, enjoying the sun and a nice breeze.

As for the job, I’m still waiting for paperwork to come through before anything moves (further) forward. Because I spent more than six consecutive months outside of Canada in the past five years – while pursuing my MSc in Glasgow – I had to order a records check from the UK as part of the security clearance process. On my own dime. Totally fair, I know – but it costs $160 Canadian for the expedited process and required a bunch of documents I didn’t readily have, including all my addresses for the past ten years. All just for a piece of paper that attests that no, I did not get arrested or charged with anything while living in Scotland. Whatever, you gotta break a few eggs to make an omelette.

So I submitted my application for that last Thursday night, and since I paid $70 more, it’s supposed to take two working days (“not including the days of receipt or dispatch”). I opted for that because my position should start sooner rather than later; it’s a bit time-sensitive since it’s a Task Force with a lot of work to be done, not many people, and a deadline come September. That’s also what the hiring manager recommended and squares with what Michael said too, and so I obliged. I expected it to be finished Monday or Tuesday, but my new roomie checked the mailbox yesterday – and nothing yet. So hopefully something arrives today, because if not, I’m going to be really aggravated that I sprang for the “Premium Service” and it takes longer than advertised. So we’ll see, fingers crossed.

Once that is in, though – I feel like everything else will fall into place. I got fingerprinted last Thursday and also peeped some correspondence between various people within the department, all discussing and planning how to bring me on board. It was reassuring to read, definitely, that people I haven’t even met are striving to get me started in this position. They even had a tentative job title for me, “Junior Program Officer.” Again, nothing is yet guaranteed. I haven’t signed any contracts or even received a letter of offer. So it is all very exciting, certainly – but I am not getting my hopes up. That’s my kryptonite, if I haven’t said it already. Getting excited about something / having high expectations that almost nothing can reach, and then inevitably being disappointed / let down. It happens so often, so I have learned to “Lower your expectations!” (like the Amy Poehler gif) and be more realistic (pessimistic).

So there’s that. Oh, one last thing. From this e-correspondence I also gleaned that my (tentative) dates of working would be June 5^th to October 12^th. That’s the 90 days you’re eligible to work under a casual contract. And it would be perfect. Starting next Monday – so I actually have stuff going on, a way to feel accomplished, and will be advancing towards my goals – and it would be ending exactly a week before my 26^th birthday.

Which means, by that point, I would have earned all this money and would have no further commitment. So my plan is: work hard, do a great job, save up, and then take a big trip somewhere. To celebrate my birthday, reward myself after my first governmental gig, indulge that wanderlust, and hit country #30 while I’m still 25! And I even want to cross the last habitable continent off my list, so some exploration of Oceania and Southeast Asia is what I’m leaning towards most.

However – you (should) know how I am about decision-making. I hesitate to book those tickets because I have no idea what life will look like come mid-October. And from what I have heard / according to what my gut says, the field of Diversity & Inclusion is going to be “exploding” in importance this year. And I don’t want to have a 3 or 4-week international trip planned and paid for, if that would make me miss out on exciting and lucrative opportunities. One shouldn’t be unavailable for such a long time when they are just starting their careers, especially if the industry is going to be booming during their absence. SO I don’t know. But it would be really nice to do some more traveling, since Mexico was so phenomenal. Same with the Netherlands, Italy, Spain, and Portugal. Bremen, Germany was wonderful and I enjoyed Oslo too, but they weren’t stand-out recent destinations – the former because I didn’t have enough time in Deutschland and the latter because it was a bit too pricey for me, and I had less than 24 hours to explore. Anyway.

So, if I am starting my job this coming Monday, I will have much more going on in my headspace and life, and I do expect that reading, blogging, and journaling will fall by the wayside once again. So I want to finish writing up about my Yucatan adventure before that happens.

But before I continue that, I’ll tell y’all a bit about my new living sitch.

As I’ve mentioned before, I grew sick of my old apartment, on Nepean St. So I found this great place to sublet for the summer, on Sweetland Avenue, in the heart of Sandy Hill – which is the student area of the city, right near UOttawa. And this street is apparently a protected historical/heritage district, so there’s no big apartment buildings along it – but rather nice homes from the early 1900s, including the one I’m currently inhabiting.

My new roommates – Gilmour & Bailey – and I get along great, and I actually speak with them on a daily basis. The fact that there are common areas to spend time in probably facilitates that, but also, we are much closer together in age and have more in common than my previous flatmate. We might even be having a party this weekend! Which I’m absurdly excited about, because I am the one that always has / hosts social events.  In Glasgow it was Werewolves games and scary movie nights and dinner parties and actual shindigs, and in Montreal it was pre’s and more horror flicks with drinking rules and more game nights. But since I got to Ottawa. NO-THING (minus a couple people over for Smash Bros), because, what were we gonna do, hang out in my bedroom and keep the noise down? No thanks. But now that there’s a living room and big kitchen and great balcony – I want to capitalize upon that. And maybe I’ll become the central cog in a social circle again, because I realized recently that my typical role is suspiciously lacking these days. I’m excited about it.

I spend a lot of time out on the deck, reading and doing crosswords and enjoying the nice weather Ottawa’s been having recently. And I don’t have to worry about making too much noise later at night, and I can cook whenever I want to, and the freezer actually freezes things, and the Internet isn’t erratic AF. I’m very happy here. Not looking forward to moving away from here – but fortunately I don’t have to worry about that for a while yet.

 

—

 

Okay, back to Mexico. Where was I?

 

The Rest of Day 6: Tulum

I wandered more around Tulum after my delightful meal at Tropi-Q. Stopped in a place called Art+Coffee for – you guessed it – an iced americano. The guy tried to give me cold brew and upsell/overcharge me for it, but NAH BRAH, that’s not what I asked for.

I enjoyed that, perused the Internet, and strolled back to the hostel. Got into my swim stuff, dropped by a corner store for some brews, then hopped on a collectivo towards the beach! Walked along the side of the road away from all the resorts before finally arriving at Playa del Paraíso. Stripped off my shirt and shoes and ambled all the way up the beach, to catch a glimpse of the famous Tulum Ruins. It looked like you could swim to the little beach the archeological site offers, but it was nearly dusk, I had my Sol beers, and I didn’t feel like getting incarcerated by the guards for attempted trespassing. So instead, I snapped some selfies, got a kind stranger to take some other photos of me for my gratuitous shirtless Instagram posts, and settled onto the sand, leaning against a fallen tree. Cracked open the foamers, booted up my Kindle, and read more of Ellen Hopkins’ “The You I’ve Never Known” while absolutely adoring my existence at the time. I was so jubilant! The temperature was perfect, there was nearly nobody else to share the shore with (minus a few people, including two women I saw kissing – which also made me smile, because yay, queer kin!), and I was a bit tipsy off the two cans I brought with me. The beer wasn’t even that good – it had lime and salt (flavour?) added to it. I could’ve done without the extra sodium.

But anyway, that didn’t detract from anything. I was supremely happy, the book was enrapturing, and I was LIVING. FOR. IT. Eventually I couldn’t keep my elation contained any longer, so I stowed the e-reader away, dashed into the waves, and went gamboling about the surf. It was momentous. Stripped-down, simple joy.

Sunset was swiftly approaching, so I couldn’t spend too long at the shore, since it would take a while to return to the town section of Tulum. Too soon, I packed up my tingz and started walking back along the coast, then along the road, to the main drag between the beach and central parts of Tulum. Lost my shirt in the process, somehow, and had no hope of catching a collectivo – they were not as common as in Cancun, unfortunately (and unsurprisingly).

It was a long stroll back, that I didn’t particularly feel like doing – so, whatever, YOLO. I stuck my arm out, thumb out, trying to hitch a ride. If it happened, it happened, and if not – well, I had music and podcasts to keep me company on the 40-minute walk back to the Chill Inn Hostel, and a no-quitting attitude.

But it did work out, and only after a minute or two! I was very pleasantly surprised! A nice French couple – from Nice, of course, hence my adjectival use – picked me up, worried that it wasn’t safe to walk along this particular stretch of the road at night. We chatted trilingually for the short trip, in franglaispañol, and it even happened to be a symbiotic lil relationship we had. I was able to help them locate their hostel, Hostal Sheck, since it was one of the ones I was considering for my accommodations, and I just happened to pass it during my earlier wanderings. So, how about that? What goes around comes around. And it felt good to pay them back for their kindness 🙂

Finally, I returned to my own inn, showered off the sand and sea, and googled a good place for dinner. That ended up being La Malquerida, where I had a small table outdoors, right off the pedestrian street – which was perfect for the live music and acrobatics that later started to happen! I had a traditional Mayan dish of fresh-caught fish baked with tomatoes and peppers, served with rice, tortillas, and a salad. Sadly, I forget the name of the meal (that’s what happens when you’re recording all these memories a month and a half later), but I do recommend it. Check my album on Facebook for a photo of it!

 

Day 7: Coba & Tulum

Tulum is well-known for the Mayan ruins it has nearby, which are absurdly picturesque and popular with tourists. If you’ve ever seen an ad for the Mayan Riviera, there’s a very good chance it had a photo showcasing the Tulum Ruins, since it is such a mystical, magical sight. (Indeed, I just google-image-searched that phrase, and I was vindicated)

However, despite all that pulchritude, I decided not to go. The sun is no joke on the Yucatan Peninsula, and the trees (and thus shade) are few and far between at this archeological site. That, plus how crowded it would’ve been, due to its renown, plus its higher price of admission, led me to opt for the Coba Ruins instead. They’re only an hour away by bus, less well-known, and consequently cheaper and less overcrowded by turistas.

Moreover, the best feature about them over those in Tulum is how they are situated in the jungle (so, more opportunities to cool down and less risk of sunstroke), and you can climb the actual pyramid!! You used to be able to do that at Chichen Itza, but they shut that down several years ago. For sure it was hastening the erosion of these World Wonders, and it can definitely be hazardous. The pyramid I mounted had steep stairs, worn down by history and humans, and it was a bit of a perilous ascent. They had a thick rope to assist with going up and down, but even so, I kind of crab-walked when I was descending, on all fours. Wasn’t trynna to take a tumble and screw up the rest of my “trip.” (There’s another pun for ya)

It was quite the unique experience to be on top of such an ancient structure, and I definitely recommend checking it out. The views were wonderful, of course – green all around – and being so high gave you access to a great breeze, to help dry off the sweat that climbing up invited.

The rest of the site was pretty cool, too. Was kinda like Tomb Raider, with all these ruined pyramids / Mayan ball courts / other buildings emerging out of the jungle, covered in vines and with an “undiscovered” feel to them. They also had various “stelae,” which – to my understanding – are large carved stone tablets that recorded legends, or stories, or histories, or something? In any case, they were interesting to see as well.

There isn’t too much I can say about the ruins, as I didn’t have a guide to teach me about them – neither the book nor human version of that. So I enjoyed wandering around it, and that’s that.

Like the collectivos in Tulum, there weren’t many buses commuting to and from Coba either. I tried hitch-hiking again, since I had such luck with it the previous night, but no dice this time. The cost for a cab ride was prohibitive, and #DumpUber, so I bought a bus ticket then went about killing time. There are apparently some magnificent cenotes near the Coba Ruins, but unfortunately I did not have the time to go check them out. Sad! If y’all are going to be in the area and plan on hitting up Coba, you should definitely consider renting a car – maybe with some friends you meet at the hostel. That would greatly facilitate this lil day trip, and then you could spend all the time you wanted at those beautiful sinkholes.

However, I did not try this tactic. So instead, I strolled around, looking for a bite to eat. Settled down at another outdoor table and ordered an iced coffee and “stuffed avocado.” It came with tuna salad, peas, corn, and lettuce. I took a pic but it was not a photogenic meal. But still affordable, yummy, and healthy. Then wandered back to the bus stop, read more of my book, and awaited the damn ADO in the hot, hot heat. Like those in Spain, these buses played random shows/movies with the volume turned up disconcertingly high, and they were in Spanish, of course. On the way in, it was Sleeping Beauty – so I had “Once Upon a Dream” stuck in my head all day – and on the way back it was some sad, darkly-hued film about a woman’s child literally disappearing/dissolving, and then she walks up to this wild lion, that is in this random marina for some reason, because she is so distraught. Like, what ???? Quite odd, that was. So I took a lil siesta instead.

Finally got back to Tulum, booked my bus ticket to Valladolid for the next day, and returned to the hostel to decompress a bit. Chatted with the friends I made – Kirsten and Fritzi – and started planning where to go for dinner.

Then I hopped in another collectivo en route to La Eufemía, a hipster hangout highly recommended by the hostel workers. And, wouldn’t you know it, as I hop out of the minibus, I hear somebody call my name! What! How small is this world! It was Serina & Chelsea, the two Saskatchewan-ers I met back in Playa del Carmen! I knew they were in Tulum as well, but for our paths to cross like that… Wow. They had just been at the same place, too, which made me feel good about my choice.

It’s this small taquería right on the beach, with mattresses to lie on, lounge chairs, a couple hammocks, bumpin’ music, and good food and drink. I went for a quick dip to rinse/cool off, only to find out that there was seaweed everywhere. This wasn’t an issue the previous night, at Playa del Paraíso, but maybe the establishment/tourism board has to remove it themselves? And since La Eufemía was such a hippie place, they wouldn’t do such a thing, disrupting nature like that. That’s the conclusion I came to, anyway. So I’m not sure if going for a short swim actually made me any cleaner, but it did feel good to not be overheated anymore.

It was Happy Hour when I was there, too! So I had two mango margaritas (with a spicy/salty rim) and a bunch of tacos. It all was quite enjoyable, but it might’ve been the most expensive meal I had on my trip, at more than 200 pesos. But whatever, do I care? How often do I get to sit, eat authentic tacos with fresh seafood, sip on a strong cocktail, and enjoy such a priceless view? The answer is: not often enough! So I was happy to pay it. Then I stretched out on one of their beach chairs, read my book, people-watched, and witnessed day transition to night. Superb.

When I finally left the place, I once again had a miraculous / lucky return to Tulum town. I somehow managed to catch the last collectivo for the night, with only a minute to spare from when I walked out of La Eufemía to when I hopped on. I don’t know what it was about those couple days, but the stars were definitely aligned in my favour. (Or maybe it was cosmic recompensation for being so lost for my first couple hours in Tulum, who knows?)

Then: back to Chill Inn, shower off, lotion up (I was still sunburnt and peeling), and wander around more. I visited Serina & Chelsea at their hostel, the Weary Traveler. Which was definitely a hoppin’ place, and maybe I should’ve stayed there instead. Ah well, hindsight is 20/20, and it’s not like the Chill Inn was horrendous. But theirs had a free cocktail hour, live music, many more people, a pool, hammocks, etc, etc… So if you’re going, look into that.

We hung out a while, I grew jealous of their digs, then Serina & I went walking around a bit. She bought some instant noodles – fideos, a word it took me a while to remember – and then we parted, sadly. Haven’t seen her since 😦 Miss ya, girl!

I then went to a hole-in-the-wall I read about, that had dirt-cheap food. It was either four tacos al pastor or guacamole for 80 pesos, so I went for the latter, since I had had plenty of the former theretofore. It was delicious, certainly. Just wish I would’ve had enough coin to go for both! I sat at the plastic table on the sidewalk, wrote in my journal, then had two random men next to me start speaking to me in Russian. Um, excuse me? Do I look like a Muscovite? Not exactly. Funny nonetheless. They asked for my recommendations for what to do in town, and were telling me about this amazing thing they heard about. I got excited – because maybe I could rise early the next day to check it out?! – but it turned out to just be the cenotes in the area. Disappointing.

I moved onto a street cart after that, with the 70 pesos I had left on me, and asked the lady working it what I could get for that. She made me a yummy torta con pollo – like a grilled chicken sandwich, with two mini sachets of red and green salsa to accompany it – and I went back to my hostel, enjoyed my snack, and watched Scream Queens. A great way to end the night.

 

Day 8: Tulum & Valladolid

I woke up, chatted with some hostel-mates over the delightful free breakfast they served (a cute yogurt + fruit + granola, and the previous morning’s was a delicious savoury crepe with cheese and mushrooms), packed my things, and made off for greener pastures.

I went to Café Ki’bok, which was another establishment recommended on TripAdvisor. Had an amazing iced americano and used their outstanding WiFi to torrent the new episodes of RuPaul’s Drag Race and The Challenge. It was, no joke, six times faster than what I had at Garry’s place. And this was in a small coffee shop in a little town in Mexico, so….. (frog emoji) (tea emoji)

Then I returned to the taquería that helped me out so much on my first day and devoured like 8 yummy tacos. They were all cheaper than 20 pesos each, with some interesting fillings like potato&chorizo, eggs&chaya (like a Mexican kale), and the usuals like chicharrón and salchicha. It’s called El Canaston, and you need to patronize it when you’re in Tulum. Cheap, delicious, environmentally-friendly, and run by darling people.

Then to the bus station, then on board, finished my book, listened to Sam Smith, and eventually got to Valladolid. Struggled through the sweltering heat with all my stuff and found my hostel, Tunich Naj. It wasn’t my first choice: everybody recommended Hostal La Candelería, which is where Kirsten & Fritzi were staying, but it was all booked up when I went to reserve a room. Oh well. I only spent one night there.

Valladolid is inland, so there’s no sea breeze to help keep things cool. Same with Merida. So this part of my trip was especially moist. Fortunately, there is a phenomenal cenote right in the middle of the city, which happened to be a short five-block walk from my hostel! So I unpacked, changed into my trusty Speedo, and made a beeline straight there, after getting sweaty in the process of lugging my backpack around.

It’s called Cenote Zací, and it was my favourite one of the trip. Also the biggest, the most spectacular, the least crowded, and the cheapest – an absolute steal at 30 pesos. So you need to make that happen, if you’re in town. And, continuing the trend of it being a small world or my luck coming through in these couple days – as I’m walking down to the sinkhole, I run into Kirsten & Fritzi! I suppose Valladolid is a smaller town without all that much to do, but still, it’s quite something that I had these serendipitous meet-ups during my trip. That’s the magic of travel.

And I’m even happier they were there, because their presence (and Kirsten’s accompanying me) gave me the nerve to jump off a cliff into the water! Cenotes are hella deep, so there’s no risk of hitting the bottom – but still, it was quite the distance to fall before smacking the surface. Maybe 25 feet? And naturally, it looks a lot higher when you’re actually up there, about to “take the plunge,” than from afar. Both K and I did it, and Fritzi was nice enough to take photos and record it, and oh WOW was it thrilling. It was a bit painful, hitting the water from such a height – and my arms were reddened from the impact – but wow, there’s nothing like that adrenaline rush. I ended up jumping off three different times, and it was a hell of a time. The girls were telling me others leapt into the water from even higher – from atop this tree on the outside of the cavern – but NOPE, forget that. It would involve climbing the tree, jumping out instead of just down, and avoiding the rope at the bottom. Who am I, Brendan Prouse? No thanks, I’ll pass. “Challenge by choice,” right Emily?

I really enjoyed swimming around and cooling off. It was a stupendous place to spend a sweltering afternoon, being in awe of these natural wonders, and watching the light shift over the cave’s walls. I encouraged others to cliff-jump too, and clapped when they surfaced after. Some of these were a group of Italian girls, one of whom later asked me about my nipple piercing, if it hurt, as she was gonna get hers done soon. I’m always glad to be a source of information, and it’s a surprisingly common question I get – but this usually comes from people I know, and not total strangers. Pretty funny, though. I guess I look approachable enough?

When the cenote closed for the day, I went back to my hostel, showered, changed, and struck out for dinner. The receptionist told me about this place, La Selva (the forest), which corresponded with TripAdvisor’s recommendations. When I walked in, though, there was nobody else there – which is never a good sign when you’re looking for a restaurant. I wasn’t cowed, though (and was also famished), and it turned out well after all. I ordered essentially one of everything from their menu, since the prices were that good (20-30 pesos). I got a cheese empanada, a meat one, a salbut, chalupa, sope, tostada, and one other thing, and oh wow, it was delicious. I used a bit too much habanero sauce on these, so I was perspiring from the heat, but everything was yummy. Lots of deep-fried goodness.

Then wandered ‘round the city, picked up some canned cocktails from a neighbourhood grocer, sat in the main plaza (Parque Francisco Canton) and started a new book – this time Liane Moriarty’s “Truly Madly Guilty” – while sipping on a margarita and gazing at the city’s cathedral, all illuminated. Then walked to the Convento de San Bernadino, an old nunnery, which had a light show projected onto it, detailing the history of Mayan civilization, Spanish colonialism, and how Valladolid came to be the place it is today. Nothing like free entertainment, especially on such a balmy night!

Finally, returned to the hostel and watched the new ep of The Challenge: Invasion outdoors, while drinking a cuba libra. Then packed it in for the night, turned in early, because the next day, I was up at 7:30, to get to Chichen Itza before it became too crowded and hot with the midday sun.

And that is what I will write about next! Because I’m over 4550 words and have been hungry for hours and it’s already after 10pm and I want to get off the computer and watch the new episode of The Challenge – but this time it’s Champs vs. Pros!

 

—

 

Finally: I went to various other CrossFit classes with “Woodsy” at KRX Fitness, to make the most of the two-week trial they gave me. Really liked it (and was surprised at that), and I did see progress in myself, especially with my stamina… But it costs $125 per month and has limited hours. I prefer to go at my own pace, anyway, so I just signed up for another two-week trial yesterday, with Anytime Fitness. Back to regular weightlifting (back squat, deadlift, chest press, bicep curl, leg press, tricep press-down) with all the time I need for rest between sets.

But I’m glad I got to try it out, as I’d been curious about CrossFit for years (thanks to The Challenge, honestly). And it was fun meeting the other people who patronize that gym, particularly Carolyn, the trainer. She’s a sweetheart and I miss her 😦

 

One last thing: thanks to Ernie, I found out about an underwear fashion show tomorrow, sponsored by Stroked Ego and taking place at Lookout, to fundraise for the Ten Oaks Project. Sounds like something I wanted to check out anyway, but like with trivia – why spend my own money to do something when, instead, I could get paid for doing it myself? I messaged the organizer, and voila, fortune favours the bold, I’ll be modeling some underwear on the runway tomorrow! Alongside all these ūberfit GOV players, sure, so maybe I won’t be looking the best – but whatever, it’s a different aesthetic I have going for me, no más. Is #Dadbod still in?

So if you want a fun night AND to contribute to an amazing cause, come out to Lookout tomorrow! Doors open at 8 and it’s only $10! Come support the kids and keep me company / distract me from the fact that I do not have an eight-pack like the other models !!

 

‘Til next time darlings. And keep your fingers crossed that this UK record check comes in pronto!

 

All the best,

 

– Jefe

Some T about My Governmental Job Opp, A New Home (for the Summer), CrossFit, & More Mexico/Travel Ramblings!

Oh! Wow! I didn’t see you there! Funny meeting you in a place like this.

 

Anyhow.

 

So I have amazing news. I am quite sure that I have landed a job in government, working in Diversity & Inclusion, on a casual contract basis. Which means I have 90 working days at my disposal, and once I deplete those, I can’t work in the same department until the start of the next governmental year.

Which might not seem ideal, but people do that throughout their entire careers, without ever having periods of unemployment. They just go from casual contract to casual contract to cazh-con to CC, and then the year begins again, and you can return to the original department!

And once you are already in government, it becomes much easier to get other jobs within it. So this opportunity is a foot in the door, along with many other benefits. The work is something I care passionately about – how to encourage diversity, enhance inclusion, and dismantle obstacles to both in the workplace – and also an area I will excel in. I bring expertise to the table, particularly related to the LGBTQ+ angle that is so emergent these days. My future department wants to be proactive in their policies, to be on the vanguard of the movement to increase Diversity & Inclusion, and I will aid in that.

The job will also involve a good amount of research, collecting data, analyzing it, synthesizing it all into a coherent report, and publicizing the findings. More strengths of mine, thanks to the three papers I did that involved performing my own empirical research, with my master’s thesis as the obvious example. My experience with online content creation – through social media and blogging for the Lambda Foundation, Camp Wynchemna, and as part of the AUCC Students for Development grant I received to be an intern at Nexos Voluntarios – will also prove useful in this position.

The 90 days will start sooner rather than later, since the Task Force I will be a part of must create that report by September – and from what I understand, at least one person (but maybe two) of the already-small group is on leave. So it’s a bit time-sensitive, it seems, so I’m hoping to hear back from the woman next week and maybe even hit the ground running by Wednesday. I got a phone call the day after the meeting, in which she asked for my full legal name and date of birth – which I take as a sign that they are starting the security clearance process for me. Which they wouldn’t do if they weren’t serious about this / moving forward with my hiring. So I’m super excited about this!

And this casual contract will take me until the end of the summer, and with any luck, I’ll have found another position by then. I’m optimistic, and very excited about the whole opportunity. It came at a great time, too, since last week I was literally pounding the pavement, handing off resumes to all these restaurants to be a server, just so I had something to do / a reason to get out of the house.

Also, I told my roommate a week and a half ago that I’m moving out, so I’ve been apartment-hunting. Even still, I was hesitant to commit to a full summer sublet, just because who knows where I would be come mid-august? What if the reality TV show came through? What if nothing else in Ottawa manifested, and I decided to work on the high ropes course again? What if I decided to forget the whole thing, fly the coop, and travel the world? I didn’t want to be locked down to an apartment here in O-Town, or say I would take something for the full summer and then have to back out (and thereby let somebody down). So I had decided to move into Julia Conzon’s new roommate’s empty room until mid-July, and then figure it out then.

But now that I (likely) have something until the fall, I can find a place longer-term. And so I did. I’m moving this Sunday or Monday into this really great apartment on Sweetland Ave, in Sandy Hill. I already met the two people I’ll be cohabitating with – Gilmour and Bailey – and even the lil cat Luna. The place is very nice, especially for the price I’m paying. Top floor of a beautifully-designed past-century house, with a large balcony, air conditioning, and even a dishwasher! Plus, you know, some amenities that are commonplace but that I have missed while residing in the current, Nepean St location. Those being a living room / common area and reliable Internet. The place is furnished as well, and G & B seem sweet, fun, and with more in common with me than my current roomie. So I’m excited about it! Yay! (Will just potentially have to buy a TV monitor so I can keep enjoying my BBCan5 & RPDR & trashy MTV shows!)

Speaking of, the finale of The Challenge: Invasion (of the Champions) just aired on Tuesday, and I happened to place FIRST in my league of the official MTV Fantasy Competition! So, from what I understand, I won myself a trip to the VMAs, maybe for two, which are happening in California in late August. Now, I got first place in my own public league, but I am not the person with the most points over everybody who entered. So… I guess we’ll see what happens? I haven’t received an email yet, but it hasn’t been that long since the finale showed. In any case, earning first place is thrilling in itself.

And one more piece of exciting news – I am checking out KRX Fitness, a Cross-Fit gym with a free two-week trial, in an hour with the singular Nick Woodward! I’m a bit cowed by the prospect of potentially puking from (over)exertion, but looking forward to it nonetheless. I gotta push past my comfort zone and “Challenge” myself, right?

SO before I dive right into the working world again, and probably get overwhelmed at the beginning (since I fully expect it to be a lot of work and very challenging, but I’m looking forward to that, so I can grow and learn and become a better worker and person), I should finish up writing up Mexico. So, shall we?

—

Day 5: Akumal

 

My fifth day started in Playa del Carmen, where I met my hostel buddies up on the rooftop for the breakfast. They were all going to Akumal Beach, famous for being the place where you can swim alongside sea turtles. I looked it up on TripAdvisor, and somebody had recently left a review saying that there was a suspension on snorkeling with the tortugas. But these new travel friends had heard from others that it was still on, and it was a cheap collectivo ride away, and apparently a beautiful beach – so even if I didn’t spy any sea turtles, it would still be a good day. What else would I have done, anyway? I had woken up, planning to go to XPLOR, an adventure theme park with ziplining, rafting down an underground river, a buffet lunch. It was something like $90 US, but for a full day of thrilling activities PLUS all the food I could eat, that price is justifiable. Trying to kick my oft-tight-fisted instincts anyway. Alas, you could not buy tickets online for the day of (no idea why), and I wasn’t going to just appear at the park and hope they had space left – and also pay the full price (~$125) without any discounts. So I switched my plans up last-minute.

So Serina & Meg go first, since they were ready, rarin’ to go, and I didn’t want to hold them up. I told them I’d meet them there, like I did with the Kiwi Couple, and if it were meant to be, then I would find them. And if not, well, I have no trouble spending a day at the beach alone.

I take my sweet time getting ready, meander to the collectivo station, grab an iced coffee on the way, stop in a cute lil café for some food to go, end up chatting with the cashier – who was yet another Canadian – then hop in a minibus headed south. I strike up a conversation with my seatmate, another Canadian, and pick his brain about what’s to do around there. I considered doing XPLOR the next day, and just storing my stuff in a locker while en route to the next town, but through talking with this guy, it became clear to me that – contrary to what I had originally thought – I actually was running out of time. And this was not even halfway through my trip! And was originally worrying that I wouldn’t have enough to fill up my days!

This convenient chit-chat decided various things for me. There was not enough time for me to go to Belize (which would’ve been my thirtieth country), which wasn’t advised anyway. I didn’t even have enough days to justify riding all the way down to Bacalar for a day and a night, even if that was recommended to me, for its idyllic charm and picturesque five-hued blue lagoon. So I made my mind up. It would be Tulum-Coba-Valladolid-Chichen Itza-Merida-Cancun-Isla Mujeres. And that’s exactly what I did, and I don’t regret any of it.

Anyhow, I eventually get to Akumal – it was further than expected – and wander along the white sand beach, looking out for a spot to sit in the shade of a palm tree and also keeping my eyes open for the two girlies. And I manage to find both. Meg & Serina were sitting in the blazing sun, and I wasn’t trying to get even more toasted, so I go and claim a nice lil plot for us further up the beach. I eat my sandwich, smile at the shoreline, read my book, and then shoot the breeze with those two when they meander over. Then I go splashing around the waves solo, goggles on, hunting for some turtle friends. I never locate any of them, sadly (even though Meg did), but I do swim /drift over some coral and other fishies. The water felt amazing, of course, and I fully appreciated how I was in legitimate paradise once again. Couldn’t get enough of it.

[And then while walking back to the girls, some random woman who passes me says, “Wow! That’s a tiny swimsuit!” Like, really? Did I ask you? Is it really that small? No and no, so sashay away. Still good for some laughs tho.]

When the three of us tire of the beach / grow a little hungry, we go searching for a place for a bite, ultimately settling on this low-key cantina with a comida corrida (like a menu of the day, a cheap multi-course meal). I had fish tacos with beans and rice. I figured, since we were so close to the beach, it would be supa fresh. And maybe it was, I can’t remember. The food wasn’t remarkable, but it was certainly affordable.

And then we return to Playa and stroll down La Quinta. I wanted to go back to the Mamitas Beach Club / homosection and swim some more, but the ladies didn’t, so we split. And went and frolicked in the ocean some, and it was all so blissful. I’m missing it now, that feeling of complete liberation from cares & concerns. And the temperature was like bathwater. Amazing.

The night went similar to the two previous. Free Happy Hour on the roof, Meg & I timing ourselves chugging these drinks, giggling and laughing and chatting with everyone, and then our random contingent going on a ragtag adventure. We stopped for delicious & super cheap quesadillas, then meandered to another hostel that both V and I had heard was having a party tonight. We manage to find it (it was all the way across town), climb the stairs, and waltz right in. You know that secret, pretend you belong there, act like you own the place, and people won’t stop you? So I tried that… But unsuccessfully. The party was packed, so if I just moved a bit faster, I could’ve escaped paying the cover. And don’t get me wrong – I wasn’t aware that you had to give money to get in, so I just entered like I usually do at parties. But the doorman came up and seemed a bit angry with me. Like, sorry dude, you didn’t post the price anywhere.

Regardless, it was TWO HUNDRED PESOS to get in. Which doesn’t really translate to much in Canadian money (like $15), and it came with a large (triple) tequila drink… But still, I was salty about it. Only the dudes had to pay, the six of us (3 girls & 3 guys) talked about splitting the difference so all of us only gave 100, but when I went to collect from my friends, the deal was off. Easy to get annoyed by that when you’re drinking, but really, what’s the point? I’m fortunate enough in my life that I really don’t give a damn about losing $7. And my frugality can often be a weakness. So it’s literally whatever.

The party on top of this hostel wasn’t really great, either. Too-loud trancey music (which I’m not into and which prevented talking) and not enough room to really walk around or dance – but still hot bartenders and cool fire-dancers. So Meg & I ditched it after not too long, and the rest of the night was my favourite. We went back to the gay club, which was even emptier and sadder than the previous night, so we did a little tour, snapped some photos in the dance cages they had in there, laughed about the whole thing. Then popped in this super random club right next door that still looked like it was setting up for the night and definitely not open – all their lights were on and people were putting out chairs – but Meg and I just pranced around the dance floor. Literally. Skipping and jumping and doing sloppy pirouettes and somersaults and handstands and acting like we were in the tumbling section of a gymnastics comp. It was SO much fun, so stupid and silly and harmless and enjoyable. The BEST.

It was clear we weren’t really welcome, and the employees/owners didn’t know what to do with two gringos borrachitos just making fools of themselves (they didn’t say anything to us at all, but I feel like I asked “Está abierto?” when we entered) – so we left after not too long, and went in search of some eats.

Wandered down La Quinta, which isn’t really known for its cheap food. We stopped at a pizza/empanada place – I had a shrimp slice – and Meg was hilariously trying to bargain the guy down for an empanada or two. In both English and (basic) Spanish, her Australian accent and all, and she was trying so hard. But he wouldn’t budge! I tell you, it was a sight to behold. And she bought one anyway, and grumbled that it wasn’t even worth the money. EL OH EL.

But we made up for this by going to the old favourite, El Fogón. She got some quesadillas, I ordered yummy nachos, and we had a great time. Even though I spilled some salsa on my pants, washed it off at the sink, and it looked like I peed myself. But I didn’t care at all. It was a fabulous night, my favourite during the entire trip, and Meg solidified herself as somebody I can definitely kiki with / get ridiculous and be silly and have the most fun. Miss you so much, girl!

The friends I made in Playa del Carmen & the wonderful place I stayed in made it the stand-out of the whole twelve days. I had good hostel experiences elsewhere, for sure, but PDC was legendary.

And that brings me to….

 

Day 6: Tulum

I wake up, get breakfast, say adios to my lovely nuevos amigos, then go to the ChouChou Café, an adorable and beautiful coffee shop down the street from the hostel on the way to the collectivo station. Perfect. I sit on the porch, have a delicious shakerito (espresso + ice + un poquitito, no más, of milk), and enjoy the ambiance… Then head to grab a minibus to my next stop, sweating profusely because I’m carrying all my stuff and it is bloody hot out. All part of the charm, though.

I probably chat up my seatmate on the ride down, I’m not sure. I did that various times, because the best suggestions come from the locals. And I get to Tulum and have the most trouble finding my hostel. It was actually dreadful, maybe the lowest part of the trip. I had an address and a pin dropped on Google Maps, and I walked up and down the damn street searching for it numerous times. Of course, this being relatively rural Mexico, there weren’t many numbers on the houses to assist me with locating it. And I even stopped in various nicer-looking restaurants and asked them if they knew where it was, and they had never even heard of it! One guy even used his own phone to Google it, with no progress made, and then TWICE called the number they had given me, but nobody picked up. Like, what?! Am I being punk’d? What is the deal? And it was sweltering out and the area it was supposed to be in wasn’t the nicest and I lost a little bit of hope, to be honest. I didn’t want to wander all the way to another hostel, in hopes that they had a bunk available (since the one that was recommended to me was all full-up), when I still felt I was going to actually find the “Chill Inn Hostel.” And I didn’t want to be charged for the original one, if I wasn’t staying there, or go through the rigmarole of reversing that charge.

So FINALLY I manage to hunt down the place. They did have their number posted, but it was hard to see – and since NONE of the surrounding buildings did, I wasn’t really looking for that. They had ABSOLUTELY NO SIGN outside to signify that, “Yes, international travellers – without working cell phones or knowledge of this area and maybe even no command of the local language – this is the hostel you’re staying at! Super easy to find!” SO DUMB.

I was livid when I entered. And when I expressed this, and told the worker (en español) that there was no sign and how are people supposed to locate it if you’re not doing anything to facilitate that, by putting something at least a bit recognizable outside, all she said was, “We don’t need one. If you know where it is you can find it.” Like, yes, obviously if you know where to look for it you can locate it… But people who have never been to the hostel or even to Tulum will have no idea! And she was absolutely nonplussed about the whole thing. Aaarrgghhh, maddening!

I vented a bit more to two young, blonde girls that were in the hostel too, Fritzi (German) and Kirsten (Dutch). And that wasn’t the greatest first impression, let me tell you. Sweaty and frazzled and – by how relaxed everybody else was – seemingly overreacting. Fortunately that didn’t really appall them too much, as we ended up hanging out later at the hostel, and in Valladolid, and even at Chichen Itza.

I went into my room, cooled off a bit – both literally and figuratively – then went out for some lunch. Maybe I was a bit hangry as well. Probably. Returned to the taqueria with the gentleman who rang the hostel and really tried to help me out, because I wanted to show him my gratitude. Unfortunately, they were out of tacos for that day, so I ended up patronizing that establishment on my last afternoon in Tulum.

Instead, I ate at Tropi-Q, which had an amazing comida corrida for ~120 pesos. If I remember correctly, it was cucumbers with cayenne pepper, then some fresh bread, with papaya agua fresca, then spaghetti with spinach and olive oil, and finally pork with black beans and a Mexican-style ratatouille. Chopped/sautéed vegetables with sour cream and some cheese. Everything was delicious, it was so cheap, and I sat out on the patio and people-watched.

I had a conversation with my neighbour, as well, who was an American woman in her 30s or 40s who just upped and moved to Tulum for two months, to get away from the hustle+bustle of US life. She was studying Spanish and enjoying the beach and just taking it easy. Very Eat, Pray, Love of her, and I value that. Tulum has that effect on people, I gathered. Everyone seemed to absolutely adore the town, and it’s somewhat of a surfers’ paradise. Amy Demone spent eight full days there, just working during the day then heading to coastline at night, and doing yoga on the sand. Tulum is, like, the hot new thing in Mexico. Very trendy and upcoming and hipster. I certainly liked it, don’t get me wrong – but maybe it’s a bit overrated? I don’t know. I didn’t spend the most time there, so maybe I didn’t relax to the extent I should’ve or really took the time to absorb all the town had to offer. I don’t know.

What I didn’t love about Tulum is that it has two parts: the town (which is a bit dingy + dusty, to be honest) and the beach, which is much nicer, greener, and paradisiacal. Which means, of course, that it is more touristy and expensive, with the classier restaurants and beach resorts. And in order to go from one to the other, you either had to rent a bike or take a collectivo – the former which I didn’t spring for, since I never spent a full day there, and the latter which were not as regular as in Cancun.

Still, Tulum was awesome, and definitely worth the visit – because it’s the new thing to do, if nothing else. I’ll finish up writing about it later, as this is at ~3800 words currently & I have exciting plans to grab a drink right now!

 

So there you have it: some T about the job sitch, my new home (printing out + signing the sublease today), and more travel ramblings.

Hope y’all enjoyed. And I welcome your feedback! Do you want more funny stories and misadventures? Or more musings and philosophical insights? Or straight-to-the-point, what-did-I-do-in-Mexico details? Or a mixture of all of them. Let me know.

‘Til next time my darlings,

Love+light,

 

– Jefe

México Mágico (Parte Uno)

Aloha! Or should I rearrange that and say – holaa!

 

So I wrote and uploaded my most recent update yesterday, and I just finished filing my taxes – but I’m at a table outside, sitting in the sun, and just indulged in a grande quarter-sweet light-ice no-dairy iced coffee at Starbucks despite the fact that I’ve been suffering from insomnia this past week and couldn’t/didn’t fall asleep until 5 am last night. So I figured, before I go walking around Ottawa some more, let me at least get the ball rolling on a new blog post, all about my trip to Mexico. So let’s jump right in.

 

 

Day 1, March 29^th: Ottawa-Philadelphia-Cancun

Woke up at 3:30 am after only going to bed after midnight. I opted to be hedonistic – have a late-night snack and watch some RPDR – instead of being a good Christian and going to bed early. Whatever, right? I’d get more rest in Mexico.

Head to the bus stop when it’s still dark, listening to new music (Brooke Candy & Kerli), get to the airport, have my future breakfast (yogurt + granola) thrown out because it was a “liquid” and wouldn’t fit in a 1-litre bag, and wait 10 minutes in a 3-person line at the Express Tim Horton’s only to find out they don’t have Ice Capps, despite what their sign says. Chit-chat with the check-in agent, suspect people are judging me for my orange/coral nails (“Hot & Spicy” from OPI), download The Challenge: Invasion, and fly to Philly. Catch up on Scrabble, complete some crosswords, watch The Edge of Seventeen on the plane, and land safely in Cancun! Customs takes forever, but as soon as I get outside, a smile immediately comes to my face. The weather was so balmy, the sun was shining, there was cheap beer and margaritas, and the shuttle to downtown Cancun only cost $5 US. And I managed to get on an earlier one, instead of waiting another 45 minutes – simply because I asked. Audentes Fortuna iuvat.

So I get dropped off at the ADO station, walk down Avenida Tulum, withdraw some pesos from a Scotiabank – and honestly had no idea how much to take out. I obviously hadn’t slept much and didn’t quite have the conversion rates down. Fortunately, I didn’t have to pay any fees to use the ATM – thanks, Global Partner Alliance!

I have no sense of where my damn hostel is, since the street signs in Central Cancun are few and far between. And I’m carrying all my valuables, in a pair of jeans and lugging around my hoodie and leather jacket, and sweating so much. I stop in a 7-11 and ask for directions – and the guy is so kind that he looks it up on his phone! What a sweetheart.

So I manage to locate La Casa del Viajero, knock, no answer. So I just waltz right in, see construction going on, and I’m like… What? Is this the right place? But it was, and this was a common theme of my Mexico trip: things that seemed a bit sketchy or unsure, but you just gotta trust in it – and then it works out for the best. It was the same when the hostel worker (and apparently the contractor/construction guy too), Martin, takes my money but doesn’t have change for me. What can ya do? Just breathe, hope for the best, and “it’s fine.”

I meet some of the other guests, make fast friends with a Kiwi couple, then look up good places to eat – ‘cause I was hungry at this point! I change into shorts and a sleeveless shirt (never to wear anything else during my trip!) and hit the road, heading to a taquería that was recommended on TripAdvisor. I order “un orden” of tacos al pastor – so kind of a make-it-yourself dish with tortillas and marinated pork with pineapple. Came with grilled baby onions, fried black beans, sautéed nopal (cactus leaves), and, naturally, lime, onions, cilantro, and an assortment of salsas (red, green, pico de gallo). I had a Corona too, of course, and I just relished how yummy and affordable everything was. The weather was perfect, there was a great breeze, and I was in friggin’ Mexico. I had no idea I would be there, even a week prior – and I was ecstatic to have made it to my twenty-ninth country. I wrote about this in my journal, breathed it all in, and was smiling so wide. Magnífico.

Then I wandered around, strolled through markets, searched for sunscreen (by asking for “cream against the sun” because I didn’t know the word “bloqueador”), stopped back at the hostel, and then geared up to go to the Zona Hotelera – which is what everyone thinks of when they picture Cancun. It’s the white sand beaches, turquoise waters, huge hotels and nice resorts and bumpin’ clubs. A two hours’ walk from the downtown section, or less than a half hour on these big buses that run constantly and only cost 11 pesos to hop on – not even a loonie. That exchange rate was really workin’ for me during my trip!

I initially headed to the ME – the hotel where Jonna, Jasmine, CJ, Derek, Emilee, Ayiiia, Bronne, & Joey stayed on The Real World: Cancun – and walked right up the entrance to “fake it ‘til I make it” and seem like I knew exactly where I was going… Only to be stopped by a construction worker. The hotel was apparently undergoing renovations and wasn’t open at all. And I rode the bus all the way down to check it out. Alas.

So I put my headphones in and marched all the way back up to the main section of the Hotel Zone – with all the huge clubs. Coco Bongo, Senor Frog’s, Dady’O, Mandala, La Vaquita. They were all blasting music and competing for attendees. But at like $40 US to enter, nah. Even it was open bar. They had scantily clad dancers enticing people to come in, neon paint, black lights – and everything turned up to 11. It was something to see, for sure. But not exactly my scene, especially since I was traveling solo. So I marveled at the debauchery a bit, then walked on down to a private beach. Could still hear the house music, remixes to popular songs – but coupled with the sounds of the waves. All the lights on the water, people sitting on the sand, enjoying the night for all it was… Just amazing.

Then I wandered over to Casa Tequila, ordered a lime-salt-rocks margarita, listened to the mariachi band, and wrote more in my journal. Then walked more around, with all these vendors trying to sell me things and entice me to go in their bars and strip clubs. An easy way to deter them? Just tell ‘em “I’m not straight.” And they back right off, haha.

Then returned to the hostel on a ~party bus~ (lights, loud music, people drinking), got to know the other visitors more (New Zealanders, a Russian, the Quebecker host and his BC friend, Germans everywhere), watched The Challenge, and hit the sack.

 

Day 2: Cancun

I sleep in, enjoy the free breakfast (huevos revueltos con frijoles negros y toast y café instante) out on the patio by the pool, chit-chat, and strategize with the Kiwi couple. I lead them to the stop for the shuttle to the Zona Hotelera (so they aren’t waiting for 20 minutes for one to show up like completely morons, as I did the night prior) and agree to meet them there. I grab a delicious iced americano, purchase some aerosol sunscreen, then ride the bus over to Playa Delfines as well. Once again, I hop off at the wrong time, so I have to walk along the main road through the punishing midday sun. But I was not going to let any of that get me down, because it was a marvelous day in a new country! Why would I be upset about such trivialities! No way, no how. And I even managed to see some iguanas on the stroll over.

I locate the beach, and oh WOW, it is gorgeous! Truly picture-perfect – not too crowded, a great sea breeze to keep the heat index down, nice amenities (showers, bathrooms, umbrellas), and all for free! And I even manage to find my New Zealander friends, which seemed pretty lucky to me. So we spend a good part of the afternoon there, together.

I body-surfed, walked up and down the shore, sunbathed, sat in the sand and let the waves crash around me, bantered with my new-found friends, read Mindy Kaling’s “Why Not Me?”, did some swimming, and did not take any minute of it for granted. It was ideal and idyllic.

We snapped some photos with the multicoloured, larger-than-life city name sign, like those everywhere else in Mexico – Valladolid, Isla Mujeres, Merida – then walked back up the main road, seeking some ruins I saw on the map. Never really found any of them, but we did happen upon the Mayan Museum, which I heard good things about. However, it was their last day in the country and didn’t have money to burn, and we were all hungry, dehydrated, and a bit sunburnt at this point. So we split up – I went to the best taquería on TripAdvisor (Tacún) and had a margarita and arrachera tacos, and they returned to downtown Cancun.

I stopped back at the hostel, hung out in the pool a bit, rested some, realized how damn red I was (I should’ve reapplied), and later did an abortive attempt to go to a local gay club. It was already 9:30 and nobody was there, and I was beat anyway. So I stopped by another bar, which had three tequila sunrises on special for 120 pesos – or less than $10 Canadian. I sipped on those, wrote more in my journal, and eventually meandered back to La Casa del Viajero. Mostly everyone was gettin’ their drank on – barely diluted full glasses of whiskey and cheap Mexican beer and broken mugs etc – so I hung around this chaos for a bit, laughing with the rest of ‘em.

When I travel, though – I very rarely go out, and I was tired from all the sun and heat. So I later showered, applied aloe lotion everywhere (I’m not trying to look like a snake mid-molt), packed my bags, and went to sleep.

 

Day 3: Playa del Carmen

“Playa” was my favourite part of the trip. Thanks to Martin’s advice, I took a collectivo (like a crowded van, like in those professional rideshare outfits) down the coast to PdC for only 40 pesos, instead of a bus that would’ve been more expensive, taken longer, and been less of a cultural experience.

And the midday Yucatan sun is hawt on that day, so carrying my stuff and trying to navigate a new city was not the most pleasant of experiences. But I found my hostel, the Lobo de Mar, pretty quickly – and it was definitely the right choice. I loved it! It was one of those nicer, “cooler,” more social ones. I mean, they had a diving shop kiosk in their lobby, a rooftop bar open to the public (with a mini pool), free water and WiFi and breakfast, comfortable beds, attractive employees, discounts for other local businesses, and the best part – a free happy hour for guests every night! And the price was comparable to everywhere else I stayed, too. I loved it, and a big part of that was that I actually made friends there – facilitated by the gratis cocktails, no doubt.

I drop my things off, do some lite research on where to eat lunch, and go to Cueva del Chango for some grub. Which was also awesome. Great atmosphere – they had a small waterfall, a stream, all these trees, a simulated cave (hence the name), and even a pond with cute turtles. I ordered an iced americano (naturally) and chilaquiles, a dish I had heard lots about (also on Orange is the New Black) and which was recommended on the “female foodie” blog I read. It’s like nachos, but instead of being covered in cheese, it’s smothered in sauce. So, tortilla chips, the salsa you choose, pickled onion, avocado, chicken or beef or egg, and sour cream. Friggen amazing, YUM. I enjoyed that to the fullest, wrote in my ournal, and soaked up the amazing weather.

Then I wandered around the town, primarily on “La Quinta,” or 5^th Avenue, the main tourist area of Playa. It’s a pedestrian street with the nicer (and pricier) restaurants, bars, shops, etc. Lots of people trying to sell you things, like always, but still great to walk down, people-watch, and feel some of the AC drafting out of the stores. I ended up down at the beach, of course, and sought out the gay area. When I saw numerous tan and shockingly fit old dudes in Speedos, I knew I had found it. I sat down in the sand, in the shade of somebody else’s (rented) umbrella, gazed around, watched the waves, listened to the house beats coming from Mamitas Beach Club, and read more of Mindy Kaling’s book – eventually finishing it. It was another triumph for her, and I recommend it. I especially loved the chapter in which she has that party out in Astoria and all the drama with her nemesis co-teacher. Amazing humour.

Returned to the hostel, showered off all the sand, and made my way up to the roof to witness the sunset and try to blog. Some randoms up there engaged me in conversation, though – which I (almost) always welcome – but in this case, they seemed like scammers and I didn’t enjoy their company. Luckily, eight o’clock came, I excused myself from the chat, and began my new habit: getting as many tequila cocktails as I could within the hour. I asked somebody if I could sit near her, and as it turns out – she was the friend of somebody I had talked to earlier, down in the lobby! Serina was her name, and we ended up hanging out the rest of our time there – and even in my next stop, Tulum. She and her travel bud were from Saskatchewan – I met a weird amount of Canadians during my trip. Birds of a feather, maybe?

So she and I gab, get to know each other, rub aloe on ourselves, and capitalize upon the happy hour. When I go to get a refill, I ask somebody who is sitting there alone what he is drinking, since it looked pretty fancy. Turns out it was a paloma (grapefruit + tequila), which seemed like a wise enough choice – so I invited him over to sit with us. I also made that offer to somebody else, an adorable Argentine, but he was just waiting for his friends to come up. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I might as well do a good deed. So Serina, bar-guy, and I are all sitting around and enjoying each other’s company, and then this other girl comes over and asks if she can join us. Hmm, another bold one, huh? OF COURSE YOU CAN! And I’m SO happy she did, because she was phenomenal. Her name is Meg, and she is from Australia, and she and I still talk. We hit it off right away and ended up having so much damn fun together. I miss those wild carefree nights in a big way, since I don’t really have them here in Ottawa. Alas.

The first night, we all just chit chat, drank some dranks, and have a good time. I make a point to get to know the bartenders and tip them for each cocktail, to facilitate the rest of the happy hour and the proceeding nights as well. My buddies didn’t do that and were still served – but whatever. 20 pesos for a strong tequila-orange is still quit the bargain, and the two barmen were fun, interesting guys regardless. So that’s me, always being friendly and giving good gratuity. What goes around comes around, right?

Meg ends up chatting with someone else, and our English friend goes to bed early, so Serina and I head to El Fogon (an authentic, well-reviewed, affordable hole-in-the-wall taqueria) for some drunchies. It was all so cheap and so good that I ate at the place four times during my three days in Playa. Completely worth it. And then it’s back to Lobo del Mar to crash.

 

Day 4: Playa

I wake up, hit up the free breakfast on the rooftop, and fortunately run into my new favourite person, Meg! She gives me some advice on cenotes, which are certainly one of the best things about the Yucatan Peninsula. They are sinkholes in the limestone filled with rainwater (or groundwater, or both). So they become natural swimming holes, completely mystical places that look like something out of a Tomb Raider movie, and many of them feature caves and stalactites and other things you can marvel at, through Scuba diving or just splashing around. I adored them, and ended up visiting three throughout my stay.

She recommended Cenote Jardin/Garden del Eden, so I get a collectivo and head right there. I also grab an iced coffee on the way, because the hot, instant stuff at the free breakfasts wasn’t cutting it. And en route, I strike up a conversation with my seatmate, who was an American who had recently relocated to Tulum. I pick his brain about what to do around those parts, but am cautious to annoy him. You know, second-guessing myself like usual. But it was an enjoyable and educational talk, for sure.

I get to Eden, walk down the dirt path… And find out it is closed. On a Saturday, of all times! If you’re going to pick a day to close each week, and you’re a tourist destination, then why on earth would you pick Saturday? Makes no sense to me.

So that’s a let-down. Fortunately, Garden of Eden is situated super close to other cenotes – Crystal and Blue – so I choose the latter, Cenote Azul. Pay my 80 pesos and was immediately transported into a magical natural wonder. Words won’t really do it justice, but it was phenomenal and so picturesque. Crowded too, admittedly, but there was still room to breathe.

So I spend the afternoon there, and it was marvelous. I eat my picnic lunch, start a new book (The You I’ve Never Known by my favourite author, Ellen Hopkins), swim around, take lots of photos, don’t give a rip that I’m in a Speedo when nobody else is, see a certified Olympian, people-watch, and also do two things that scare but also thrill me. I jump off a cliff, maybe 15 or 20 feet above the surface, and I free-dive through an underwater tunnel with various air pockets. And once wasn’t enough, so I repeat the experiences numerous times, even if I the rocks in the tunnel scratched me and smacking the water from that height stung a bit. But I loved it.

I also get a “fish manicure” for the first time, which is where these lil guppies come and eat the dead skin off your feet. It tickles, sure, but it’s adorable. These “fish spas” were also set up in booths along La Quinta for $20 US, which is ridiculous, since I got that stuff for free.

And one more story, so you can laugh at me. As I’m setting up my phone on self-timer, trying to capture a good photo for my daily gratuitous Instagram post, traipsing through the shallows to simultaneously get a nice pose and ideal lighting with only ten minutes to get in position… I misstep, my leg goes into this unseen hole between these rocks, all the way up to my knee, which scrapes my shin up good and gives me quite the bruise. It hurt, certainly – and I felt nauseated on account of the pain – but it was pretty funny. I wish it happened to somebody else, so I could witness such a hilarious accident from an external perspective. But it’s cool, ‘cause I can laugh at myself too. And I am fully aware it could’ve been much worse. My leg could’ve broken, or there might’ve been some scary monster with huge jaws at the bottom of this hole, or I could’ve dropped my phone in the water in the process, so…. I’ll take what I can get. It’s all healed up now, of course, and what’s life without a little misadventure?

I head back around 3pm when I’m getting hungry, flag down a collectivo on the side of the highway, and ride on back to Playa. Stroll around more, check out a thrift shop, spy a Quebecois bar (with poutine, Canadiens gear, and “tabarnak,” so comical), and look at menus to decide where to eat dinner. I end up at this place on the corner by my hostel, recommended by the desk workers and with a discount – but I have my doubts. Skeptical as ever. I double-check with TripAdvisor, though, and that convinces me enough to give it a try. Glad I did, too. Iced coffee again (since I knew I’d be having mucha tequila a bit later anyway), freshly-made guacamole, and fish ceviche. Which I had never really tried before, even if I did spend a summer in Peru. And let me tell you, it was all delicious. The restaurant had a great vibe, too. I wrote in my journal and watched the people around me and had a constant grin on my face. Also, incongruously, the place had this pool in the centre of the eating area, and there was some random boy swimming during my entire meal. Lolwut? Why? Whose kid is this? Hilarious.

Then back to the hostel, shower off, put on clean / non-sweaty clothes, rub aloe lotion on myself (as I am still peeling), and get ready for *~happy hour~*. I head up early to get a good seat, use the WiFi to catch up on Scrabble, respond to the folks back home, and upload that douchey IG photo while awaiting the 8 o’clock witching hour and for my friends to arrive.

Veronique, another Canadian I met while abroad, shows up, and we sit with another guy in our room, from Russia. Eventually Meg, Serina, and her pal Chelsea show up (no English guy though, and Argentine guy was with his friends and thus unavailable – but still looking so comely), and it becomes another great night. It’s much more crowded because it is apparently “Ladies’ Night,” but that doesn’t stop me from getting my fill. I even have Meg time me while I down it as fast as possible, reppin’ McGill’s Carnival with a six-second chug. I sing Scottish drinking songs for Meg and Serina, and we are all fabulous bad influences on each other.

This night is more successful than last, in that we actually have a contingent that goes out and hits the town. We seek out a nearby karaoke bar only to find out it is closed, and then wander down La Quinta, seeing what catches our fancy. And let me tell you, there are some LOOOLLLLs throughout the evening, that still make me smile when I remember them.

• V and her hilariously unflattering romper, dancing in this random rock bar.
• Chelsea giving the waiter her number, and having me teach her how to say “Eres guapo” to facilitate this.
• Meg borrowing V’s bike, pedaling away, and shouting, “Adios!”
• Meg & I going into a tequila tasting shop, and when the guy asks us which we want to try, she says “todo,” trying to get like five free shots.
• The random convenience store that had the same prices for drinks as the bars did.
• Us sitting in a Mexican karaoke bar, so annoyed with all the sad Spanish ballads they’re singing (but impressed with some of the voices, including an apparent YouTube star), until Meg & I go up on stage and absolutely slay “Pretty Fly for a White Guy.” Actually. We had the other patrons singing along with us, clapping, and even recording our amazing, upbeat, laughable performance.
• Me leaving the group to check out the local gay bar (Club 69, because of course, what else would it be called?) for a second, convincing the guy to let me in just to look around – he says “Tienes cinco minutos” – being massively underwhelmed with it, so hurrying back out to link back up with the girls.

And let me tell you, I am hustling back up Fifth Ave to find them, worried that they got lost and were in some random unsafe alley or dangerous situation, and I never do catch up. And in my rush to get back to the hostel to averiguar their safety, I unfortunately do not buy any street food to end out my night. Sad! But the important thing is that they managed to get back all in one piece. I honestly don’t know how I didn’t pass them, but maybe they ran back in order to evade me? Who knows? (But I doubt that).

—

Well, this entry is already over 4200 words. And it is definitely no longer the day after I filed my taxes at all – but all the same, I am still at Starbucks, just had a grande iced coffee, and am at a lil sidewalk table. There is no way I can write about everything I experienced in Mexico in one entry. And I just realized that I’ve never done that – when I was in Italy, I was always writing shorter updates on my adventures while riding on buses from city to city. So it’s cool! No sweat!

So we’ll wrap it up here, for now, and pretty soon I’ll upload some photos to my Facebook. To give you that true, multi-media experience.

One final point – this week / this life has continued to be hard, and yesterday was a difficult day. I found myself legitimately tearing up at yoga, out of frustration or pessimism or sadness. I’m not sure. But! All’s well that ends well, because I successfully managed to apply to not one but two jobs last night. One at Carleton and one at Algonquin College. So maybe there is a future for me here in Ottawa yet! I didn’t get the Camp fYrefly gig, but I am still hopeful about the reality TV show and the government job. So keep your fingers crossed for me, if you will. Because these empty days, spent in my room all alone, are getting real tiresome.

And don’t worry, I am making a change as well. I can’t expect things to improve if I don’t make an effort or change my ways, right? So I am trying to do exactly that. Hence why I’m at Starbucks, enjoying today’s beautiful weather, instead of cooped up in my apartment.

 

That’ll do for now, cochinita. Hope all is well with all of y’all!

 

Hasta la próxima,

 

– Jefe

Work Woes, Career Hope(s), & A Spontaneous Trip to Mexico

Hola hola hola!

 

So as most of you probably know, due to my gratuitous and douchey and wonderful Instagram posts, I am currently in Mexico! Traveling around for twelve days. Olé! (And if you don’t follow me on IG, then you’re missing some fire. It’s instagram.com/tommytopaz if you’re curious)

And right now, I’m on a night bus from Valladolid to Merida, which is my penultimate town. After two nights in the “American Capital of Culture,” I’m taking yet another long bus ride back to Cancun, sleeping two nights (and doing several amazing things – more on that later), then hopping on my plane back to Canada. And I am not looking forward to it, to tell you the truth. These past couple weeks have been magical, and I’ve enjoyed myself so much. I’ve been wanting to visit Mexico for years now, and I finally made it! It’s so great to get away from icy old Ottawa and the stress it brings me.

Of course, though – as they say – one of the best (or better, I guess) things about traveling is coming home. In that, you can’t miss something if you never leave, and you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone. Meaning the comforts of home, the convenience, the familiarity, the stasis. So there are things I’m excited about returning to – like my own bed and weekly board game nights and… That might be it. I haven’t been gone very long, of course, so I’m not missing things too much. Naturally, it’d be nice to see or hang out with some of my friends from back in O-Town (Colum, Amy, Dean, Elena, Luke, Tim, Kai, Eleanore, Eliot), but to be frank, I’d rather be in some exotic country and gaining new experiences than doing the same-old, same-old. Nothing against those people, but I crave adventure and excitement. And I’ll be back soon enough, so fret not!

I intended to write a blog update while in the airport before flying south, as I was wont to do during my travels in Europe. Because I wanted to write more fully / wax indignant about my experiences at the Canadian Centre for Gender & Sexual Diversity, to get it out of my system and close that chapter, move on to bigger + better + brighter things. However, I don’t want to get in trouble for doing so, or bad-mouth my previous employer, or really go back and worry about all that stuff again… SO, suffice it to say, I am not 100% pleased with how things turned out with the CCGSD.

I moved to Ottawa for that job, when I have no family or network or support structure there, at all – and I saw myself being with the organization for maybe 2-4 years. Which I soon enough revised to a year and a half, to finish out the first grant for the Sports Inclusion Program. I wanted to stick with it, commit, do a great job, educate 7000 people about LGBTQ+ topics, and build an unshakable foundation for the Program and its (hopefully) illustrious future.

Things started a-changin’, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I was wracked with indecision and second-guessing myself, not knowing what to do or what call to make. I spoke lots with my parents and friends (mostly Enbal, love you En-doll) about it, wrote in my journal, and did some deep thinking. And I decided: I am not in a desperate position, not backed into a corner. There are other options for me, and I do not absolutely need this job. I am super fortunate to have two post-secondary degrees from reputable institutions, a good amount and broad variety of work/life experience, youthful vigour, driving passion, and money in the bank. I live fairly simply and am not profligate with my spending, so I have managed to accrue sufficient dinero to pay for rent + food for a while.

And the whole situation was stressing me out and weighing me down, and it was just so unnecessary. So I resigned. However – because I care about the Program (still do) and believe in the positive effect I/we/it has on people, particularly LGBTQ+ youth – I offered to work an extra week or two, to ease the transition to a new Sports inclusion Coordinator. This was still before my three month-iversary with the Centre, mind you, so by the Employment Standards Act, I was not required to give any notice at all to quit. But if I talked the talk, I had to walk the walk – be a man of my word. I wanted to be a decent person, end on a positive note, and take the moral high road. So that is what I was willing to give them.

Then they asked if I could work four weeks instead, because the transition would take longer that I offered, so I (tentatively) said yes. And then the next day, it became five weeks (two weeks for the job posting to be live and to collect/review applications, one for first interviews, one for second interviews and hiring, and the final one where I would be training my successor). And still I agreed, and signed a new contract holding myself to that. And that is what it was gonna be.

But you know what they say about the best-laid plans of mice and (wo)men. I ended up having my last day on Tuesday the 21^st – so I didn’t actually train my replacement, after all was said and done. I was finished, dunzo, without further obligations… But still I wanted to do more, because I do want what’s best for the Program. So in lieu of educating my successor tête-à-tête, I volunteered to write up a transition document, to (try to) impart all I’ve learned about the position and all I believe they should know when they start as the new Sports Inclusion Coordinator. I didn’t have to do this, and maybe I shouldn’t’ve bothered after all – but I considered it valuable to do (since I didn’t have any real guidance when I began as the SIC), and I wanted the new me to start off on the best foot possible. So I don’t regret it, and I do hope they benefit from it. Absolutely they’ll learn something, so I’m glad I took the time to create that document. It would’ve been better to train them in person, since I am an educator, after all – but something’s better than nothing.

—

And now I’m done with the CCGSD! A free agent! Untethered & unfettered!

Also, on my last official day with the organization, I just happened to have an amazing meeting with a VIP in government scheduled for the afternoon. So I went home, dropped my stuff off, brushed up on the notes I had taken during my research for this meeting/potential job interview, mouthwashed, and got myself in the mindset to charm, sparkle, effervesce, impress. Then I strolled in the beautiful spring weather to a towering office building, was signed in by one of my contact’s employees, slapped on a visitor’s pass, and sat down with the Senior Director of Diversity & Inclusion and Employment Equity for one of the governmental branches. And let me tell you, it went phenomenally.

She was also bubbly and happy and excited. I fed off her positive energy (and maybe vice-versa), and we had a great time together. I couldn’t stop smiling. Her upbeat, sunny mood was infectious, and she was saying the nicest things about me, my experience, and my résumé. The field of Diversity & Inclusion in government is going to blow up / massively increase in effect and importance in the new future, she believes, and this is especially the case for the LGBTQ+ angle. She (and indeed, the government) needs passionate and knowledgeable people to come in, educate others about the importance of D&I, help guide the development of the policies, and assist in the creation of a better, more representative, and more supportive future for government and the nation. She was impressed with my CV and expertise and wants me to be involved – and I want the same, definitely. She was so sweet, of course – but she was also determined and dedicated and really believes in this cause. I respect that, completely.

The issue is… There is no current position opening for this. Or funding, either. And creating such a job will take time, and filling it presents its own obstacles. In order to hire somebody external (i.e. me), she’ll need to demonstrate how she went through the entire public service and didn’t find anybody suitable for the role. Which, to me, seems like an arduous task. How big is the public service, right? In Ottawa, certainly – but also nationwide.

I wholeheartedly believe I am a qualified individual and strong candidate and great person for many positions in various fields, don’t get me wrong. I know that – but the difficulty is helping others see that, to take a chance on / put their trust in me, to allow me to rise to the occasion and impress them, do them proud. I know I can do it, and that when you give me responsibility, I will teach myself and work hard and strive to do the best job possible. I have a strong work ethic, and I want to do well. That drives me.

So we’ll see what happens. From what I understand, she is trying to see if she can create a position for me in her department, and to figure out how she can fast-track the application and external hiring process so it won’t take months. (Because of that governmental bureaucracy, natch.) And I believe she is also circulating my CV around to her contacts, such as those in the Canadian Human Rights Commission. And I have my two friends Michael and Denis pulling for me in their respective areas, too, of which I am hugely appreciative. I have a coffee klatch set up for three weeks from now thanks to this, so I’m looking forward to that. I have other feelers out as well, and several applications I have submitted or will complete in the near future. Essentially, I’m on the job hunt again – but not super intensely (just yet). Instead, I’m enjoying Mexico to the fullest.

And on that note, I should get going. We’re almost to el centro de Merida, and I gotta pack my computer away. Also, remember that time I said I wouldn’t write about what happened with the CCGSD? El oh el, me too. But it feels good, it feels right. So I’m pleased about that.

Ciao for now – and I’ll try and write all about this fabulous trip when I’m at the airport on Monday morning. Hopefully the Cancun departure area will have a legit café, because Ottawa’s certainly didn’t.

 

Hasta pronto,

– Jefecito

2016 Retrospective: One for the Books

Hey there,

So it’s the day before New Year’s Eve and I’m at home in St. Margaret’s Bay without much to do/kinda bored. Incidentally, I also don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow, so I just sent some texts to Bryson and Brendan, see what they’re up to. I hung out with them – plus Bren’s friend Elie and Bry’s friend Kayleigh – the other night, playing Smash Bros and joking around, laughing so much. It was honestly such an amazing time, I had so much fun. So hopefully I/we can figure something out for tomorrow night too, because they’re all quality, amazing people. Mum and Dad are going to celebrate the New Year with some other older local couples, so I don’t want to be stuck at home all alone – but also don’t want to crash their party. So fingers crossed that something comes together.

Anyhow. It is the end of another year, and I thought it’d be valuable – and a good thought/writing/introspection exercise – to do a retrospective on 2016. My dear old roommate Klara Hohmann inspired this through a cute photo collage she posted to Facebook today, so since I’m so idle – might as well be productive!

Last holiday break, I spent two weeks backpacking around Italy (Milano-Genova-Cinque Terre-Verona-Venezia-Firenze-Roma) and then met up with Bryson, Mum, and Dad in Mallorca. Phenomenal trips and memories, and I think about them so fondly. The three of them left one morning at 4am, and waking up in the lil apartment we rented all alone was no fun at all. It broke my heart, actually. I still managed to enjoy the extra day and a half I had in Palma, but I was missing them terribly. And knowing I wouldn’t see them again until the summer, at the earliest, was difficult. But nonetheless, I returned to Glasgow, and I celebrated “Hogmanay” (Scottish New Year’s) with Moe & Makisha. It wasn’t a wild NYE or anything that amazing or memorable, but I still enjoyed myself. I rang in 2016 in the UK with an American (who is Indian in ancestry), an Icelander, and a Chilean. Very international, just like I like it.

Classes started up again soon after that, and people returned from their holidays. I was in three courses (Gender, Sexuality, Race), each meeting once per week – one on Tuesday, two on Wednesday. Meetings with GULGBTQ+ were on Monday nights, with our main events Wednesdays (followed by going to the Polo Lounge), and my smaller biweekly international meetups on Fridays. So I had a lot of time free: Thursday mornings (and even Wednesday evenings, at a push) until Monday nights, every other week. And since I was in Europe with access to a nearby airport and discount airlines – that really opened up possibilities for many trips to new countries and exciting adventures.

…Except I didn’t take advantage of it, almost at all.

(Fast forward to two days later, New Year’s Day, the first of 2017)

While I didn’t travel as much as I wanted or hoped to while I was in Glasgow, it’s not like 2016 was without its adventures. Living in Scotland itself was amazing, and I did explore it some. The city of Glasgow itself, of course (Riverside Museum, Science Centre, Bearsden), but also Edinburgh for a day, when Mum was over visiting, and an absolutely amazing two-day road trip around the Isle of Skye with my dear friends Laura, Matus, and Martje. Such a warm memory, and I miss those three terribly.

When I did leave Europe, I flew from Edinburg to Oslo, wandered around that city for less than 24 hours (adding another country to my list), then jetted to NYC the day after. I spent a phenomenal four days in Manhattan, staying with the inspiring Jamie Juch in Bushwick. Walked all around the city, saw Stonewall for the first time, enjoyed the High Line, visited the Met, attended a stand-up show at the Upright Citizens Brigade, saw Billy Eichner in Washington Square Park, met up with an old friend Jesse.

Lived in Washington DC for two weeks to perform research for my thesis and had truly magnificent experiences there. Couchsurfed with Greg Jones, Elio Pedrero, and Johnnie Wallace, and became legit friends with G and J, and still keep in touch with them. Met a bunch of other wonderful and impressive people, too – particularly my interview subjects, Ellen, Joe, Emily, Josh, Mia, Jason, Vinnie, Robert, David, Phil – but others as well (Ian, Bryan). Managed to rendezvous with other friends whom I love and who inspire me – namely Lauren Jefferson, Princess Martin, and Chuck Roberts. I started listening to podcasts on my many hours-long walks around the nation’s capital, and I look back on it fondly. I saw the White House, Capitol Building, Washington Memorial, WW2 and Korean War and Lincoln and Jefferson and MLK Monuments. Visited multiple Smithsonian Museums – Natural History, the Zoo – and explored Georgetown, Dupont Circle, the Southwest, Capitol Hill, the Mall, Adams Morgan, all over. Found the Real World DC house. Had good cheap eats throughout the city and hit up various Happy Hours with Gregory. Sunbathed at a rooftop pool at the VIDA queer gym, then returned that night for its Diamond Anniversary Party, also with Greg. Free drinks, music, photographers, and entertainment (contortionists in a plastic ball floating on the pool!) – and importantly, a candlelight vigil for the PULSE Massacre, which happened the previous weekend. I applied to many jobs in Washington because I would absolutely love to live there. Possibly in the future, for my next position/rung on the career ladder. It’s an amazing city.

I also returned to Pennsylvania in 2016, stayed with and hung out with my sister, and worked at Camp Rainbow once again – this time for three weeks. Got to see so many of my loved ones – Jess, Nicole, Emily, Rikki, Christy, Dakota, Josh, Daisy, Ramone, Jackie, Eryn – and made some new quality friends too. Amber, Aeja, Andre, LeeAnn, Ryan, Ashley, Jale, Jaime. The work was hard, frustrating, trying – but also fun and uplifting and rewarding, and I am very glad I got to help them out again.

Then drove over to Ohio with Lynne/Lynden and Daisy, to see my dying grandmother, spend time with both my immediate and extended families (Anna, Mark, Nick, Elisabeth), and visit the area again. It was a superb (but difficult) ten days. I am so happy I got to see those folks again, especially my Oma – who ended up dying later that month. She gave me some very sage advice in one of our last conversations – that regardless of how far I go, to always return home and keep family close. Which is now permanently part of my body, as I got new tattoos in her and Opa’s memory (and Anthony and Alex and others whom I loved who have passed), in September. It was tough, seeing Oma so weak, and in her last days – but I am so glad I got to be with her and talk to her one final time. It’s been rough on all of our family, but we could support each other through these trying times, together in Ohio – and for that I am grateful.

And despite how harrowing it was, with Oma in hospice care and getting feebler each day – the time in Dublin and Indian Lake was still enjoyable, and we created some cherished memories. I really loved hanging out with and getting to know my cousins again. They are 13 and 15 (I believe), and I hadn’t seen them in longer than five years. They are good people, true individuals, and I’m happy we’re related. Hope to see them again soon. I swam in Indian Lake; read Misery; had a fab time at Zoombezi Bay with Mum, Nick, and Lynne; went thrift shopping; played lots of board games; rode bikes; went exploring; spent time with friends of my grandmother; jumped off a waterfall at Indian Run Falls; and just enjoyed the summer.

Then Mum and I road tripped back to Nova Scotia, taking three days – sleeping at Lynne’s place in Quakertown (and having a great dinner at Country Place) and a cute, quaint, and ornate hotel in rural Maine. We listened to the Serial podcast and had some good conversations. Then I spent most of August at the public library, writing my thesis and drinking iced coffee, eating muffins, and watching Sm4sh compilation videos to give my brain a rest. Finished that up on August 30^th, and Martje Rave did me the enormous favour of printing, binding, and submitting it for me, since I was far away from Glasgow.

Spent my first taste of true freedom at Queensland Beach, finishing reading Ellen Hopkins’ Traffick, listening to an episode of the Brain Candy Podcast, and soaking up the sun. I went to Molega Lake that weekend too, and hung out with Brendan, Mum, Dad, and other adults from around the area. Had an absolutely wonderful time there. Swam in the lake, kayaked to an island, read The Girl on the Train, climbed a tree then jumped off it, swung lots on a rope swing, had a delicious dinner, made mojitos, sat around the fire, taught the older folks Werewolves, helped build an outhouse, and discovered how much I really love Brendan. Such a decent guy. And Marie, Brian, Margaret, Sue, Roddie – they’re all fab too.

The next couple months weren’t the most exciting or anything, especially after the fantastic summer and year I had in general. I occupied myself with applying to jobs (felt great about GLSEN and Make the Road New York especially), lifting weights, playing board games with Mum and Dad, taking the dog out for walks along beaches/through the woods, and reading a lot in the sun (Outliers, Tricks, Traffick, Girl on the Train, Flowers in the Attic, Slade House, Fight Club, Jurassic Park, Modern Romance, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me, etc). I made some new friends whom I value – Dustin, Ndaku, John – and reconnected with old ones too (Cate, Fiona, even my parents’ friends). Hung out with Bryson and grew even closer to them. Met and befriended their roommates (Kevin, Alistair, Emily). I participated in a photo shoot for/about queer individuals and identities and attended several meetups to practice my conversational French. Went to a nude beach for the first time, started watching Big Brother, checked out the board game café, had a lovely early afternoon on a sailboat with white wine spritzers and lobster salad sandwiches, and swam in the ocean.

I hemmed and hawed about traveling, knowing it wasn’t necessary and it’d be more prudent to stay home and devote my time and energies to applying for jobs and securing a future for myself. Didn’t want to get a part-time gig because I wouldn’t want to go through the whole process of applying, interviewing, and training for the work, only to leave a month or two later – and my access to a car wasn’t guaranteed, since I was borrowing Mum and Dad’s vehicles. I had a scrumptious Thanksgiving dinner with Cate and her parents, when mine were in Mexico for an anniversary trip – and we had marvelous conversation. They helped me see that I could go on an adventure and get a temporary job, and still be able to apply for career positions. And that something had to change, because I wasn’t happy with the way things currently were. So, inspired by them, I finally returned to Montreal, and spent a magnificent three weeks there – seeing friends and walking around the city and just being young again. There’s too many people I hung out with there to mention now (and I recently blogged about that), but I want to name Ky and Keidan specifically, who so graciously and generously let me sleep on their couch for the entire trip. It’s truly appreciated, your hospitality. You two are the bestest.

And I also went on a carpe diem YOLO vacation down to Kissimmee, Florida with Mum and her (our) friend Margaret. Decided two days prior to departure to pull the trigger and go for it, since I found miraculously cheap tickets, especially considering how last-minute it was. And contrary to my worries, I did manage to land a permanent position in my desired field in an exciting new city, even though I was traveling around. Getting that job was another reason for me to go down to the Sunshine State. Who knows when the next time I’ll be able to take a vacation is, let alone with my mother and for such a reasonable price? Might as well get some relaxation, vitamin D, and adventure in, before joining the rat race! And it was a fabulous trip, more good memories there.

And then two days after getting back, I flew away once again – this time to Ottawa, to start my career in earnest. And you know how that’s been going, since I just wrote about that in my last entry. Even though I’ve only spent a month there heretofore, I already feel settled and comfortable there. I’ve made headway on the Sports Inclusion project, found a nice place to live, established myself at the office and with my coworkers, and made a good amount of friends and positive routines. Looking forward to continuing all that this year!

Everyone says 2016 was a shite year, and mine had some low points too. Having my heart broken/being blindsided, my grandmother passing, struggles with university, pinching my sciatic nerve, and significantly – spending three weeks in the hospital with MERS (Mild Encephalitis with Reversible Splenial Lesion) after two attacks wherein I lost control of my limbs and could not speak, find words, or communicate well. Bashed my face against a brick wall when I tripped over my unresponsive feet and could not raise my arms to catch myself. Had a bloodied nose and scraped hands – but more than that, terror and confusion as to what was happening to me and at a loss as to how I could fix it. I escaped from this ordeal virtually unscathed – which I am fortunate for and grateful about, since people do die of encephalitis, and have permanent brain damage. The only things I really lost were three weeks of my life, muscle gains from weightlifting, weight, and some trust in my body. But, as with most things, there’s a silver lining. Mum came over, and I enjoyed spending time with her/showing her a bit of my life in Scotland. I somehow, miraculously did not have to pay a cent/shilling for all the time I spent in the hospital – super lucky that it happened in a country with universal health care and not during the many months I’ve spent in the States. And I might value my life more now, after my brush with mortality. I do think it has grounded me more, and taught me a lesson about taking my health for granted. I strive to have healthy habits and to take care of myself, but sometimes that’s not enough. Which is an important lesson to learn.

Being in the hospital for those three weeks with a swollen brain also caused me to fall behind on my schoolwork and final papers. The one I did write when I was in the hospital was not up to snuff, either, giving me my only C from this past year. And frustratingly, that essay determined my entire mark for the Gender course, when I believe I deserved much higher than that, for all the work I did. I was given the option to write another 4000-word paper on one of the existing prompts, to make up for it – but I had already written three of those consecutively and didn’t have it in me to write a fourth, especially when I felt it was such a crapshoot as to what grade I would get. I also had to start reading up for my thesis and preparing for my interviews, since I wanted to understand all the dimensions of my dissertation topic before starting my empirical research, with these VIPs of the LGBTQ+ inclusive education world. So it wasn’t feasible, writing a second 20+ page paper for the Gender class, to try for a higher mark – and so it dragged my cumulative GPA considerably. Such a shame, and I’m still annoyed at it. But I managed to graduate “with Merit” anyway, so it’s fine.

My encephalitis also caused me to miss the biggest trip I would’ve had all year, which I was so looking forward to and excited about. I had booked the flights and preliminary hostels and was supposed to meet dearest Enbal abroad, but none of that was really possible. The doctors didn’t know what triggered my attacks and obviously didn’t want me to be in a foreign country if one were to happen again – and they wanted to keep me for observation too, to make sure I didn’t die or worsen. (They actually didn’t treat me at all; only monitored me) It all makes sense, and I was also scared of the possibility of being alone in a strange city where I didn’t speak the language and suffering another episode. But regardless, I was supposed to go Berlin-Prague-Bratislava-Vienna (where I was to meet Enby)-Budapest-Copenhagen-Malmo-Brussels-Bruges-Amsterdam, adding Germany, Czechia, Slovakia, Hungary, Denmark, Sweden, Belgium, and The Netherlands to my list of countries I’ve visited. It was going to be a celebration of finishing my postgraduate classes and assignments, since I was departing two days after my last 4000-word final paper was due. I couldn’t wait to see Enbal again (we talked all the time while I was in Glasgow and grew very close), and I was so excited to have all these new experiences. Berlin was also the #1 place I wanted to visit during my year abroad, and I never managed to make it over there. Another time, though, it’ll happen. And it’ll be amazing, worth the wait.

So in addition to passing countless hours alone in the hospital (or sharing a room with elderly people with Alzheimer’s and other mental ailments) and getting my assignments screwed up and not being able to see or hang out with my friends or have any fun or anything like that – I also lost money on those flights and accommodations. But the worst thing is that I didn’t get to go on the trip or see Enbal.

All was not lost though. The flights weren’t the most expensive, thanks the numerous discount airlines Europe offers, so I only ended up wasting ~$200. Which is even lower, because I did actually take the return flight, from Amsterdam to Glasgow. Like with Florida, I booked this trip last minute, flying by the seat of my pants. RyanAir had cheap airfare from Glasgow to Bremen, which was close enough to the border with the Netherlands that it was perfect. So I explored Bremen for a day, had a truly remarkable couchsurfing experience that night with my darling hosts Moe and Nadia, and met some interesting backpacking/hitchhiking Polish students there too. Then went over to Groningen and loved that too – especially because I super serendipitously got to see Catlin!! I had no idea she was there and only picked to visit it because it’s a university town and was between Bremen and Amsterdam. But it all worked perfectly, and I was over the moon to hang out with her again. I’m still laughing at some of the stories she told me then. Oh man – I miss you so much, Cat! I’ll see you in Toronto early in 2017!

I ended the trip in Amsterdam and honestly, the city blew me away. The weather was amazing, food yummy, the canals beautiful, architecture noteworthy, history interesting, so much stuff to do and see and marvel at. It completely surpassed my expectations, which is really saying something, since I had high hopes of it in the first place (which is also my perennial struggle/weakness). I met and befriended some fun and exciting people who were in my hostel room (Americans and Irishmen), and we all had a sensational night out on the town together. So many laughs and such a great time. I don’t know if I described all I did in Amsterdam/Groningen/Bremen on here – and I certainly didn’t journal about them, as I was too busy traveling and collecting memories and finishing up my paper for my Race/Racism course – but it was an extraordinary week. And I’m pleased that I was able to capitalize upon the return flight to Glasgow, so my big 21-day tour of Eastern Europe didn’t go to complete waste.

Finally, 2016 had some ups and downs for my love life too. I fell hard for Daniel throughout December and January, only to have that all end abruptly in February, without me foreseeing it at all. I met some other great people in Glasgow too, though, the connections with whom I value and cherish. Most notable among these were Diego (James) and Jon(o), but also Diogo, Dylan, Elvis, etc. The rest of the year had other possibilities too, with Johnnie, Louis, John, Ben, Pascal, Antonio, Deepak – and I have enjoyed the little dates I’ve had here and there with them. Some are still developing, some are dead/deceased, and for others – who knows what the future holds? A relationship is really not a priority of mine – maybe not even a goal – and the fact that I (have) travel(led) around so much hasn’t really made it feasible to have one. But now that I’m settled in Ottawa (for the time being), who knows what will happen in 2017? Again, not holding my breath at all, but maybe I’ll be surprised at my (continuing) good fortune. I also believe that love comes to you when you’re not looking for it. And that instead of needing a partner/relationship to complete you, it’s rather a perk/gift you get for being complete and whole, yourself. That’s how I see things.

Some closing thoughts.

• I saw Marina & the Diamonds perform this past winter in Glasgow and had such a great time. I’m looking forward to attending more concerts, now that I live in a big city – and am even willing to travel over to Montreal to see my favourite artists, à la Mylè
• I’ve just started yoga in Ottawa and really hope to keep that up. And I intend to join a gym in February (after the NYE craziness dies down), to get back into weightlifting. And don’t be mistaken – that’s not a resolution, just a desired lifestyle change/continuation for me.
• Many of my treasured memories from 2016 involved GULGBTQ+ and all the darling members of the committee and the society, and I would’ve been remiss if I didn’t mention that. Doing BADGE with Machar and Nathan was a great time, the GULGBTQ+ Flat Crawl was legendary, the Final Dinner touching and momentous, the love we all had for each other truly heartwarming and special. I miss you all, and am so “chuffed” to have met you all.
• Same with Laura, Christina, and Klara, my dear Glasgow roommates. And Martje, Matus, Mo, Makisha, Eoghan, Erika, Nacho, Dev, Arthur, Sophie, Elizaveta, Antonia, and the other fabulous people I knew over in Scotland and made the first part of my year absolutely amazing. I miss the Werewolves games and dinner parties and playing squash and everything. Hopefully our paths will cross in the future! ❤

I hope my 2017 is filled with friends (new and old), more travel (domestically and internationally), excitement and adventures, new experiences, strategy board games, fulfillment and success and advancement at work, and more good times with my family (and continuing to grow closer to them). 2016 wasn’t horrible for me, despite the aforementioned happenings (and Brexit and Trump’s election etc) – it actually may have been one of my best years on record – but I am nonetheless looking forward to what 2017 has in store for me.

Bring it on!

– Jefe

12 Days in Orlando, 2.75 Weeks in Montreal, & 1 Amazing Job in Ottawa

Ahoy,

It’s been a while since I updated (again; I’m incorrigible). So let’s get you caught up.

I ended up spending almost three weeks in Montreal, and I loved it. I was originally intending to leave around the first or second of November, after Halloweekend. I had this feeling that I should return to Nova Scotia, but I couldn’t really explain it. I think it was an instinct of prudence and modesty, that staying in Montreal longer than two weeks was “extravagant” and, indeed, unnecessary – and that it would be less expensive, safer, and more ascetic to go back to St. Margaret’s Bay, stay with my parents, and live my quiet life. I was very ambivalent about it and not sure what to do. I also felt guilty for staying with “Cute Lil Ky” and “Keidy-Keids” for too long, knowing that they would never tell me to get out, even if I had overstayed my welcome. Sure, I strove to be a good guest, not bothering them when they had to study, doing my own thang and not requiring their constant attention or company, cleaning up after myself, and contributing to the household – buying TP, washing dishes, and the like. But still, I had a nagging worry (magnified by Enbal’s hard truths and perceptiveness), which contributed to the feeling that I should return to Halifax. The usual second-guessing when traveling also hit me – knowing that I’d be more comfortable and spending less money if I were just “home,” and recognizing that my normal boring life was dull, sure, but it was good-enough and survivable.

Anyway. Like I typically do when faced with indecision and inner turmoil, I turned to my friends to figure it out. Listened to them explain how there’s no real strong reason for me to go back to NS, since I don’t have much going on (t)here, and had them remind me that despite some boring afternoons, waking up and spending time alone, I was still having more fun in Montreal than I would in Boutiliers Point. I made damn sure that Ky + Keidan were okay with me staying longer, too, and after that… I absolved myself of guilt! I extended my stay until November 7^th and caught a rideshare back – with the same driver that I traveled up with, actually! And by remaining in La Belle Province an extra week, I got to attend dear Melody and Akiva’s birthday gathering, FINALLY see Enbal again (it had been sixteen months, since I caught encephalitis and couldn’t meet her in Vienna like we planned on), play some new board games with V, E, & MC (Mike Chan), check out the Korean place Ky+Keid work at, and just spend more time with friends and enjoy being young and unfettered, in the city that was my home for six fabulous years! So, 100%, it was the right decision.

What else did I do in Montreal?

• Caught up with Torch at Provigo and then saw The Girl on the Train with her – good movie, good book (though nothing ground-breaking or monumental).
• Played Settlers of Catan twice with JJJ/Liam/Canada/SassNation, his girlfriend Rachel, Torch, E, and V – and won both times.
• Had a yummy dinner at L’Academie with Mikey and Sarah.
• Celebrated my and Nick Backman’s birthdays with a small soiree at Ky’s place and then with a four-course dinner at a Mauritian place (Aux Iles Bleues).
• Enjoyed 25¢ wings and beer with Danny Leung and Chloe (and her sorority sisters), then crashed a Karaoke Night with Queer Concordia. My best performances: “Fergalicious,” “MILF $,” (both by Fergie) and “Loaded” by Amber Rose. #shameless
• Went to two Halloween parties, one in St-Henri and the other in Ville friggen Saint-Laurent. My costumes were a tuxedo guy/dead waiter/Tuxedo #Masc4Masc one night, and a skeleton/skull the other. Thanks to Sephora for the makeup and nail polish for the former, and Ouliana for the vegan black lipstick for the latter! Also thanks to the hosts of the party (Cynthia, all that food you made was the bomb!) and a special shout-out to INNA for always be willing to talk to me about The Challenge & The Real World!
• Watched the third Presidential Debate with her, too, and Der-Bear So.
• Schlepped myself to the Mile-End to meet up with Mike Chan and his visiting Torontonian friends at the Sparrow first, and later to Dieu du Ciel – my first time being there, if you can believe. I ordered the rose-hibiscus beer, which was pink, unsurprisingly. Might a “lady’s drink” (throwback to aperitivo at ‘Gusto in Rome!), but I really enjoyed it.
• The other board games I played were Codenames, Betrayal at House on the Hill, and Jaipur, at Randolph’s jeux de société I enjoyed all of them, of course – but especially Betrayal, which I can’t wait to play again!
• I went to Ganadara with Ky, Mikey, and Brendan Gordon – tried bibambap for the first time! – and saw BG another time, with Ben/Murph, E, & V again, this time at the Thompson House.
• I climbed the mountain and took cliché photos off the Belvedere, and I wandered around the Village and Old Port at other times too.
• I attended Logan’s Horror Movie Marathon on Halloween Eve, got to see him, Anna, & Aviva – all superb people – and loved it. He went to my version of this event back in 2010, right when we were becoming friends – and now it comes full circle! They watched The Witch, Don’t Breathe, and Goodnight Mommy/Ich Seh Ich Seh, but I only arrived for the last two. DB is worth a watch, but I was very disappointed by GM. I had heard so much about it and thus had high expectations – and they didn’t meet them. Too slow and art-house for me. But that’s fine, you can’t like everything.
• Had a brunch potluck with Hurricane Matthew (Julia, Enbal, Ky, Keidan, Victoria, Derek, Alistair, Melody, Jeff, Ale – unfortunately Nick and Akiva didn’t attend) on my last day there, and loved it [even if people didn’t like the green salad I brought 😡 ]. As per usual, so many inside jokes arose then – which is definitely one of my favourite things about HM/HP. Love all of you!
• Saw the Ghostbusters (female) reboot with Alejandra, Tsareena, and Jeffrey while sharing a Free Fido cupcake and munching on homemade banana-chocolate chip muffins. Very yummy. The movie was ehh, but I still enjoyed it. We just shouldn’t’ve watched the extended cut of it. So many jokes fell flat.
• Had a sick day one day, so I read my Kindle (Slade House and then Fight Club) and hung out in the hot tub. Then, later I groaned and moaned alongside Keidan, who also wasn’t feeling good. Cute Lil Ky made us ramen and bought some snacks for us though – ADORABLY! – and that helped everything, and I loved it so much. What a sweet guy! 😀
• Took a long walk during a particularly balmy day, along the Lachine Canal, through Griffintown, wandered around the Alexis Nihon Centre, visited Ky+Keidan at work, strolled through campus, and bought a banh mi for dinner at the end. Made for some great photos, which later became #InstaFire. All those #fallcolours!
• Hung out with Brendan Prouse at his new sublet and had a great time. Talked all about Pokemon S&M (Sun & Moon – get your mind out of the gutter) and the death of Vine and Tinder profiles and Halloween costumes etc etc. He’s such a great guy, ADORE him.
• Went with classic ol’ Sabrina to the Anticafe, this really cool institution right off Place des Arts. It’s the opposite of a café in that everything (the coffees, teas, snacks, etc) are free and you can take as much as you want – you just have to be sure to clean up after yourself/bus your own dishes. And instead of prices for these consumables, you pay “rent” for however long you stay there. $3 for the first hour and $2 for every subsequent one – up to a max of $9 per day, I think. Plus tax and tip, naturally. It’s a VERY cool idea and I fully recommend it to anybody visiting Montreal. I had a cappuccino, a latte, hummus, and gummies, sat for two hours downtown, caught up with lovely Sabrina, and only had to pay like $5.50! It’s awesome.

Hmm… I think that might wrap things up! I didn’t do something notable every day, but since I was staying with two such wonderful people, those days I didn’t do much weren’t wasted. I still got to hang out / catch up with friends and got my social-extroverted needs filled, just by their positive presence! So, in addition to all the other things you two so graciously provided for me, Ky+Keidan – thank you so much for being great people who make me smile, laugh, and be grateful for humanity in general. Keep on keepin’ on, you stars! 😀

The ride home was pretty momentous too. I went with Francis again, this time sans another passenger and without his two cute dogs! Made things more comfortable, and it also meant I got to have conversation with him. He’s a good guy, and I’m so glad I met him. Not only did he shuttle me to and from Halifax for only $100 each way, he is a decent human being that is worth knowing. On the way, though, we had another misadventure. En route to Montreal, he got pulled over for speeding and was slammed with a ticket – annoying and unnecessary, of course – but what occurred on the return trip was so much worse. He had borrowed the car from his buddy, and 7km from the border to New Brunswick, we once again were pulled over – except this time he was well within the speed limit. Apparently, his friend’s license is suspended, meaning his car is not able to be driven in Quebec. So the officer was saying to Francis that we had to vacate the car and find another way to our destination, even if we were on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere – which would’ve been horrible! I would’ve managed, by riding to Edmunston and then catching a bus to Halifax, but still, that absolutely wouldn’t’ve been ideal. So, somehow, by some miracle, the cop came up with a solution. This law only applies in Quebec, evidently – so we just had to hire a tow truck to bring us across the border to NB, and then we could go on our merry way! Legitimately! Thank my lucky stars for that, because I really did not want to figure out that cauchemar.

But besides that little misstep, the ride back was fab. Beautiful autumn day with good company on an affordable method to return to Halifax, and we made great time. I was dropped off in a Tim Horton’s parking lot, and Mum picked me up literally less than five minutes later. It was perfect! And on the way, I finished reading Fight Club, started Jurassic Park, took a couple naps, listened to some episodes of the Brain Candy Podcast, practiced my French, and essentially enjoyed the trip.

And my time since being home has been good, too. I’ve played lots of board games (2x Carcassonne with Dad, winning both; 2x Dominion Intrigue+Prosperity with him again, winning those two as well; 2x Intrigue+Seaside with Mum and Dad, winning 1 but Marilyn clinching the other victory; 3x Intrigue+Seaside+Prosperity with Dustin, only victorious once); got my six-week-old foot tattoos touched up for free; had my first dental appointment in 3.75 years (such a relief); went for coffee with dear Fiona; played Sm4sh with Bryson and their roommates for 3 hours; got some quality sleep; worked out again; took a lovely walk to the beach and back; went to a Mexican restaurant with my extended family for a belated birthday dinner and highly enjoyed their company; finished watching Big Brother Canada 2 (Neda deserved that win); saw a horrid horror film (I Am the Pretty Thing that Lives in the House) with Dustin and his friends, but still had a good time thanks to all our joking and laughs throughout it; witnessed the election and liked that even less; and attended a low-key party at Bryson’s last night with Fiona. All (mostly) good stuff!

And as for now – I’m in the Halifax airport, waiting to board the plane to Orlando. Mum was going on a 12-day trip down there anyway, so she already had the accommodations figured out, and I found round-trip tickets two days in advance for only $430 Canadian. Again, I was torn as to whether I should go, since I just got back from Montreal and probably should spend some time with friends and family before jetting off again – but again, I asked my friends for help with my decision. And once again, they came through for me. There is no real strong reason for me to stay in Nova Scotia, since the things that would keep me here can happen over the holidays, which are soon enough. When’s the next time I’ll get the opportunity to go on a vacation, especially to such a sunny and tropical location for that ridiculously reasonable price? If I’m going to be doing not-much-of-anything for the next two weeks in St. Margaret’s Bay, why not do that in the Sunshine State, soaking in the warmth and getting some Vitamin D? I can read books and catch up on journaling (and blogging) and relax there just as well in Florida as Canada – or even better – and that’ll have some more excitement and adventure for me! So #YOLO, right? The weather there is sunny and in the high 20s (Celsius, of course), so I can’t wait! Yay!

And finally (we’re boarding soon) – I GOT THE JOB IN OTTAWA!! I had two interviews that I felt good about while I was in Montreal (over Skype) and gave them my references, and waited patiently but anxiously for them to get back to me. And I finally got that email I was hoping for on Friday, after the marvelous Mexican dinner with the fam! So I am the new Sports Inclusion Coordinator for the Canadian Centre for Gender and Sexual Diversity! And I’m so, so, SO excited about it! I don’t know for sure yet, but I believe I begin in 2-3 weeks. So now that I’ll be starting my career, beginning a 9-5, then it’s even better that I’m headed to Kissimmee now! Everything seems to be going well for me, and I am so grateful, humbled, fortunate, happy. Let’s hope it continues for the time being, and Mum and I have a fantastic time down in Florida.

For now, though – I gotta go! I’ll write more about the job and everything later on.

All the best to you all, and hope life is treating you great too! 😀

– Jefe

Goodbye Glasgow, One Night in Oslo, & Welcome Back USA

Hey y’all,

So I’m in the midst of a lot of turbulence right now. Personally, I mean – although I am on an airplane, bound from Oslo to New York City. I moved away from Glasgow yesterday morning, flew to Norway, and spent the night there. And MAN was it expensive! I booked the Oslo-NYC flight because it was the cheapest way I could find/figure out to get from around Glasgow to around Washington DC, but eventual destination. But with how much I had to pay to check a bag on both the Ryanair flight over and this one, in addition to overage charges (since my bag was 25kg, five kilos over the limit, despite me throwing out/donating a bunch of things) for both – a ludicrous £10 per extra kilo for Ryanair, in addition to the $70 Canadian I had to pay to check a suitcase in the first place – plus the cab to Buchanan bus station (£6), the shuttle to the Edinburgh airport (£11.40), the bus from the Rygge airport (140NOK, with the student discount), the train to the Gardemom airport (92NOK), my bunk in a 30-person room (220NOK), linens for that bed (50NOK), and food I had to buy… I REALLY don’t think it works out cheaper than if I had booked a direct flight from Glasgow to somewhere in the American Northeast. Plus that would’ve been hella more convenient. Since I moved out of Glasgow, left my room completely empty and turned in my keys and all that, I had to take everything with me. Meaning my bags are stuffed to the gills and resultingly very heavy. On top of the 25kg/55lbs in my checked bag, I also have two carry-ons, one weighing 9.5kg, the other 11.5. So in all, I have about 100lbs of stuff to lug around with me, despite trying my best to get rid of things I didn’t truly want or need. Super annoying, and my back and head hurt as a result.

When I get to New York/JFK, it’s not like that’s the end of it, either. I’m staying with Jamie Juchniewicz, who has graciously offered to let me crash on her couch in Brooklyn for three days. Obviously can’t wait for that, and am excited to see her and explore NYC more than I have previously. Then I’m taking the Bolt Bus (thanks for the tip, Dad!) to Washington DC, and staying with a variety of couchsurfers for the remainder of the month, doing research and performing interviews with activists, NGO workers, advocates, and politicians for my Master’s thesis. Interestingly, the predominance of the people who have offered to host me are gay. That’s right – offered; I didn’t request them or anything, but merely just made my trip to DC public, and the offers came rolling in. I mentioned how I’m researching LGBTQI+ issues while in the capital, so I guess that might explain why dudes in DC have come off so welcoming so far. It’s really great, actually – though I hope I don’t get into (m)any awkward situations with them…

Then in early July, it’s off to Pennsylvania to see my dear sister and other friends, and hopefully to work at Camp Rainbow (a summer camp for disadvantaged youth) for two weeks or so. My parents are driving down from Nova Scotia in mid-July to spend some time in Ohio, and they may pick me (and possibly Lynden) up en route so we can join in the experience. Of course, I’d love to see my extended family (and especially my ailing grandmother) again, and I have warm memories about summers in Ohio – so I’m hoping that works out. They plan to spend three or four weeks there, which would be cool, but I may take a bus/train/plane to Montreal earlier in order to see friends.

Finally, I’ll end up back in Nova Scotia, most likely around the beginning of August… Actually, the way things are looking, it might not be until mid-August. Which might not be ideal, since I was planning on using the solitude and simple life my parents’ house in St. Margaret’s Bay offers to really focus and buckle down on my thesis. It’s due September 1^st, after all, and I obviously need to take it seriously. So I guess we’ll see how it’s going throughout the summer, if I’m able to hammer through it or not, before I concretely decide if Camp Rainbow and Montreal are in the stars for me. Ohio, however, is essentially a non-negotiable, for reasons I won’t really address in a public forum like this. It’s also a rare opportunity – my family has spent summers in Ohio before, but with how busy and spread out we’ve all become in recent years, what with jobs, boyfriends, university, international trips, etc – it’s nigh impossible to organize something like that again. And with that being said, I doubt Bryson will be able to swing it, unfortunately, since they currently have two jobs back in Halifax (yay, Bryson!). Potentially Lynden too, who may have found employment by then as well. I’m really hoping at least one of them can make it, but even without them, I’ll be going. I don’t want to miss out on this, and I do get along with my parents and extended family. Plus, I have some cousins there, even if they are about ten years my junior… Point is, I’ll be going to Ohio. May have to sacrifice a week of Rainbow to do so, but we’ll see how it all works out.

And I’m about done complaining now. The long and short of it is that Norway was expensive (but also amazing) and possibly not even worth the money I saved on this plane ticket, because of all the fees I’ve had to pay in the past couple days. BUT WHATEVER, because I got to experience a great city, visit another country (and global region, I suppose!), and hindsight is 20/20. Money is made to be spent, and I’m fortunate enough to not be in dire risk of going broke, so really, what’s the issue? I’ll earn cash in other ways in the future – hopfully (and probably?) at a higher rate, too, with this Master’s degree I’m getting – and I am saving money by not paying for the overpriced Glasgow accommodation until September, with the extensive couchsurfing I’m doing in the coming month, and if I hitch a ride back to Canada with my parents. Plus, I’m quite sure that food and everything is cheaper back in North America, compared to the UK. So there’s no reason to stress out about everything… Oslo is considered the most expensive city in the world, and I still managed to do it relatively affordably. So, essentially: quit yer bitchin’, Jefe! Life is grand!

And it’s true. It’s June, summer’s here, and I’m in store for a whole litany of exciting adventures. Catching up with a lot of people, meeting new ones, seeing novel places and collecting new experiences, spending time with my family, and fingers crossed, obtaining rich and interesting data for my dissertation! And having luck in expressing all of it in a well-written, informed, and theoretical way, so I can get an A for the thesis and potentially even “with Distinction” for my degree. Guess we’ll see though.

Hmm… So. Despite all this globetrotting, exploring, and adventuring, I’m still “gutted” (Glaswegian for devastated) to leave Glasgow behind – and the people there I care about, more importantly. In typical Jefferson fashion, I had three going away events: a raucous rager last Saturday, a more modest soiree on Wednesday (featuring Dice and True American!), and a Last Supper potluck on my final night. Naturally, I enjoyed all of them, and I thank all of my pals who made the effort to attend! Fun was had by all at both the parties – and particularly the first one, which was bigger, better, and lasted longer, and which Andrea (who generously hosted the fete) stated was the best party they ever had in the flat. But I especially loved the final potluck. Everyone had a good time, the food was yummy, and a sense of bonhomie characterized the whole night. I really liked having everyone there – just chatting, hanging out, and enjoying each other’s company.

It was the perfect way to end my time in Glasgow – which turned out to be better than I ever imagined. Considering I was only going to be there for a year, I didn’t have the highest hopes of meeting people, making a home for myself, or forming life-long bonds with truly wonderful friends. But I dove in head first, was very outgoing and friendly, lived outside my comfort zone, volunteered to be the programme representative for my Equality & Human Rights course, tried out new hobbies (weightlifting, squash, volunteering), and ran for election to a committee, miraculously winning against the incumbent by only one vote (after previously losing when I attempted to be the Postgraduate & Mature Students Officer). I made new connections and relationships throughout all these contexts, activities, and positions (especially the GULGBTQ+ crew) – and the only true regrets I have from my time in Glasgow are from not spending enough time with certain people, especially one-on-one. Eoghan, Erika, Maren, Kirsten, Megan, Mathew, Alex M, Nacho, Arthur, Christina, Machar, Sophie, Katherine, Milena, Paige – you (and others) are all included in this category. But I don’t doubt that we’ll see each other in the future! As they say, the world is small.

I know I will miss Glasgow, my routines from there, the people, the places/sights/architecture, the culture. The free Waitrose coffee, the gym membership, my flatmates, the gorgeous walk to university, the free museums, how tax is included in the price, how you don’t (really) need to tip (much), the proximity to other exciting countries, the universal health care, the city rent-a-bikes… I might not feel it yet/maybe it hasn’t hit me, but it was a great place to live for almost nine months. And for that I am grateful.

Of course, I won’t miss everything, and I’m excited to be back stateside soon (and I will be on American soil when I post this update online!). I more readily understand the currency, and things are cheaper (t)here. I don’t need adapters to plug things in, and the voltage won’t fry/break things I own. The accent is easier for me, and I have more knowledge of the culture and social customs in North America. Less rain, and I can access US websites (especially MTV.com, with my obsession with The Challenge). Good Mexican food, groceries I’m familiar with, and most importantly – loved ones I haven’t seen in a long time. So it’ll be a nice homecoming. I’m excited about it.

I suppose I’ll wrap this update up by discussing what I did with my abbreviated time in Oslo. I struggled with my bags to find the hostel, but I walked along some beautiful areas in so doing. This great path beside a little brook, an area that reminded me a lot of Tam Tams (electronic music playing, people dancing, hula hoops, everyone feeling great, all outdoors), numerous green spaces – and all of these sites were populated by people spending time outside, lying in the grass, soaking in the sun, having little picnics, drinking some beers or wine, and enjoying the warm weather and the weekend. It was amazing to walk through, to witness all this simple happiness. I returned to the park after dropping my stuff off, and sat watching all these people, munching on the chili cruspies Martje gave me (yum! thanks!), and enthralled with the superb summer feeling present everywhere. I loved it.

I then wandered around the town and passed so many people out on the town and enjoying their balmy Saturday nights. Eating or drinking on outdoor terraces, mingling on the sidewalk, hanging out in bars, seated in the city’s many parks. It was phenomenal. I happened upon a live concert (apparently for H&M’s Musikfest), and the music was serendipitously one of my favourite genres – house/EDM with strong female vocals. In English, too, so I could understand the lyrics! Amazing. I walked around until around 11:30 – it was still way light out – and then returned to the hostel to shower and sleep. After waking up early, hurriedly finishing packing and cleaning up after the dinner party and making sure my room was spotless and triple checking to see I didn’t forget anything and returning my keys, and then a long day of traveling and finding my way through the city and dragging ~100lbs of stuff around, even the budget bunk bed felt fantastic. So I slept in, knowing I needed my energy for today.

Then this morning, I stowed my bags away in luggage storage (my laptop and passports in a safety deposit box…), grabbed a 10NOK cappuccino from a machine in the lobby (such a bargain!), and headed out to explore the city. I got a banh mi (Vietnamese baguette sandwich) because they are one of my favourite foods and it was relatively cheap, at 69NOK (~£7.50 or $10 US, maybe). Then I meandered to the city park which boasts a ridiculous amount of sculptures by Gustav Vigeland, including that one with the man fighting off/kicking all these babies that you may have seen online. The sheer number on display was ridiculous, and each of them was impressive in its own right. The most notable work was a central column, maybe 35 feet high, of all these writhing bodies on top of each other, expertly sculpted in sandstone. Oh, and did I forget to mention that every statue is nude in this park? Yeah. It was a sight to behold.

After strolling this park and once again marvelling at all the city folk lying out in the grass and sunbathing, I headed downtown. I was running out of time but still wanted to explore the city center a bit before leaving. The coolest part was probably these warehouses I discovered, one filled with a whole skate park from the Oslo X-Games, with all these people (and kids!) roller-skating, scootering, and skateboarding away, showing off their tricks and generally being impressive. The other warehouse featured a roller derby expo, with lessons and a practice arena for the wee ones. How awesome is that?! And outside these two rad rooms were all these rails and monkey bar-like things, with children playing – and, more compellingly and attractively, all these hugely muscular people performing all these acrobatics, exercises, and maneuvers on them. They wowed me, and I didn’t know if I wanted to be them or be with them. The three areas were all very cool, and I wish I could’ve stayed longer to witness all the talent and thirst-trappery on display.

But I was running out of time and still had lots of ground to cover. I walked down this promenade by the sea, with lots of restaurant terraces, pedestrians, and booths set up. Snagged a free cup of green smoothie and an amuse-bouche of seafood soup from sponsors, both of which were yummy. Then I found the Nobel Peace Center, which is of obvious interest to me, as a Human Rights student. I managed to peek inside, too, and saw articles on Raif Badawi, a Saudi Arabian man jailed for establishing a website that allowed for liberal discussion of Islam and Saudi values. As part of an assignment for my Critical Perspectives of Human Rights class, I actually championed Raif, recommending him to receive the Sakharov Prize this year – and he actually did! So that was exciting to see. I recognized some other people too, including Edward Snowden, Malala, Martin Luther King Jr, and Nelson Mandela. Wish I would’ve had time to explore the whole museum, but unfortunately, that’s all I could take in.

I then saw City Hall (ugly), the Norwegian Parliament (beautiful), and strolled down Karl Johans Gate (which I assumed to be the central shopping street), found Central Station (good to know for later!), viewed the Opera House, and by that time, I was running way late. So I hustled back to the hostel, ate a doner kebab on the way (which was overwhelming – essentially just cheap meat mixed with spicy mayonnaise, with some jalapenos, corn, and onion thrown in for good measure, not particularly tasty, and it upset my stomach), grabbed my luggage, and rushed down to the train station. By some small miracle, I caught the train to the airport with only four minutes to spare. Woohoo! AND, when I arrived at “Oslo Lufthavn,” I only had to pay 360NOK for my overweight bag (cheaper than Ryanair’s exorbitant £50)! The agent warned me that they only allowed one carry-on at 10kg onto the flight, though, but I figured I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. And when I was stopped from boarding, all I had to do was show the receipt for what I paid for the extra kilos in my checked bag, and that did the trick! I consider myself lucky for that as well 🙂

Now I’m on the plane – a really nice one, actually, a Norwegian Dreamliner – which has TVs in the headrests and free movies! It’s great to be on a deluxe plane again, after so many Ryanair/Easyjet/Vueling bargain flights. Gonna finish the second season of House of Cards now and then try to nap – the sun was very intense today, and I’m feeling exhausted.

Until next time! And welcome home to me! 😀 [And I’m posting this at 8:30am “my time.” I made it safely to Bushwick and I’m so excited to sleep]

– Jefe

The Quick ‘n’ Dirty (Activities) Update

AaaahHH!! So sorry I haven’t written in so long! It’s not even because I’ve been heartbroken or down or particularly swamped… I guess this has just fallen by the wayside. But anyway. Since it’s Wednesday, my workweek is officially *finished* (even if you never really stop working when you’re a student), so let’s bang out a quick update. Granted, I’m headed to GULGBTQ+’s Crafting Night in fifteen minutes, so I’ll see how much I can accomplish in that time frame, and continue this stream-of-consciousness stuff later, after teaching lotsa people to make hemp bracelets! #CampCounselor4Lyfe

 

[El oh el, that didn’t happen. My energy levels dipped during the crafting night, and when I got home, my dear flatmate Laura (here’s your shout-out!) had friends over, playing Cards Against Humanity – which she drunkenly ordered on Friday, after experiencing it for the first time. I don’t love the game in the best of times – too much like Apples to Apples – but needing to define all these raunchy, marginal terms for non-native English speakers adds another layer of humour. They also miss lots of the jokes, though, so thankfully, we quickly switched over to playing Werewolves, one of my favourite games! Always a good time. Then I watched the season finale of sense8, enjoyed it, but was super disappointed when it ended. Hello! Cliffhanger?! And apparently the second season won’t debut until August or even 2017, so that’s frustrating. C’est la vie. It’s been a fantastic series heretofore.

And now it’s 2:15pm the following day. Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I need to get up at 7:45, and I was extraordinarily productive the past two days. So since I have nothing to really structure my day today, you best believe I slept in. Numerous people have recently expressed their concern over my sleep schedule/the fact that I prefer to snooze for nine hours a night. And sure, maybe I could accomplish more with being away for longer each day, but what am I missing out on, really?

I think I’m at my best self these days. More than halfway through a Master’s degree with an A/B average (I found out this week that the disappointing grade I received for my Critical Perspectives of Human Rights paper – which I think I deserved a much better mark on – did not drag my average for the class down to a C. So, happy days!). Going to the gym three times a week and making lots of progress (I even have protein powder now!). On a pretty time-intensive committee and kicking ass/really contributing to it. Making friends, supporting colleagues, and networking with professors. Living outside my comfort zone. Traveling more than I ever have. Continuing to journal and read novels (I’m on Fates and Furies now, and am loving it). And essentially just learning and growing and developing. So who cares if I sleep a lot, if I’m not neglecting anything? Maybe my program is easy, or maybe I’m just good at it. Dunno which is the case (my “modesty”/propriety makes me favour the former), but it’s fine if I have a couple lazy days per week.

ANYWAY.]

 

So, what’s been up? I am essentially 100% better since the last post, completely over that person I was seeing. I’m sure you could deduce who it was, but I’m not trynna name and shame. Gotta keep it classy, you know? Be an adult about things. And as hard and non-ideal breakups are (especially when you don’t see it coming at all), it was definitely for the best. I’ve been enjoying the single life, going on dates and meeting people with abandon, and it’s been a lot of fun. And maybe the best part is that this person I was seeing and I are back to getting along, even to the degree of being friends. That took me by surprise too, but it’s absolutely a good thing. (Un)fortunately, we run in similar circles, so I have to see them anyhow – and now there doesn’t have to be any tension or strain! Yay! Maturity win. Maybe I can have it all.

School’s been continuing, of course. I am somehow, strangely, mind-blowingly done with week number EIGHT of semester two – and there’s only eleven weeks to it! So, before I know it, I will be finished with all my classes of my Master’s program! Insane to think that it’s all happening so quickly, but I suppose “time flies when you’re having fun.” That’s a bit trite and untrue – since my workload isn’t necessarily what I would call fun – but I have been keeping myself busy. That’s how it’s passed so rapidly. I’ll update more on my courses and program and thesis later (since I’ve been feeling disenchanted with it recently, which will be an update for another day, inchallah soon), but let’s catch you up to speed on what I’ve been doing.

ALSO, before I start, I realized the other day that I only have about two months left in Glasgow! (If I leave in May to start my thesis, as I was planning on.) My plan is to research and write my thesis in the States, since I understand the culture more than here in Scotland; the living expenses are less; there is lots of work to be done there; and I’d like to carry out a thesis that is likely to result in future employment. I think focusing on the US is a good, prudent choice… But damn, does it seem like I’m leaving here way too early. It’s not like I’m in a hurry to get out of here, either. I have a bona fide life here now – friends, loved ones, routines, habits. And when I leave, will I ever really return? Who knows what the future holds, but if you asked me now, I’d say chances are very slim. Devastating, I know, but…. I guess life is changes and new beginnings and no stability.

Anyway, exciting dates on my calendar recently:

1. Marina & the Diamonds Concert! Marina is one of my favourite singers, and I was obsessed with her Electra Heart album back in 2012/2013. Probably know 95% of the lyrics on the whole record. She had a concert in Montreal in May of 2013, at the apex of my Obsessions with her (that’s a song of hers, so punny), but I didn’t have anyone to go with and was being frugal as always. So this time around, I again was unable to find anyone to see her with me, but no way was I going to miss out again. So I bought a ticket, intent on going solo. +1 self-confidence. But luckily, the stars aligned, and my friends Anton and Luigi were also going, so the three of us had a lovely time together! It was an amazing show, my first in several years, after seeing Rise Against in 2012. I was only seven people back from the stage, so I had a good vantage point for the whole concert. The opener was Kloe and the Clouds, a group from nearby, and I enjoyed them too. But Marina was much better – absolutely phenomenal. She’s an amazing singer, even live. Her outfits were a bit ridic too (including a skin-tight pink sparkly body suit with a cape and heart cut-outs up the legs, so revealing, and she has such a hot body), and the images broadcasted on these screens were just fantastic. Really eye-catching stuff, kinetic, colourful, exciting. That might have been my favourite detail, actually. She performed numerous of my favourite songs – Bubblegum Bitch, Teen Idle, Lies. The third was the most significant for me, obviously, considering what I blogged about last time. The whole concert was just magnificent, and I’m so happy I worked up the courage to buy tickets solo/chose to spend that cash. Anton and I waited by her tour bus afterwards, in hopes of seeing her (I was wearing my Marina & the Diamonds shirt, after all!), but eventually gave up. It was rainy and cold (#Glasgow), and I had a 7:45 wake-up call the next day. Disappointing, but that’s fine – it doesn’t change the fact that I had an absolutely wonderful night at the 02 Academy. LOVED it.
2. BADGE – Big All Day Games Event. This was a competition run by the “Games Com”(mittee) of the GUU, one of the student unions here during Freshers Week that I was keen on entering, but I was unfortunately too late for signups after another failed attempt at procuring a mobile carrier. Sad, but it’s fine – I would’ve been participating as a free agent then, and while that could result in some amazing friendships and memories, it’s better with people you know. So this time ‘round, my pals Maddy and Machar did it with me, and we were team #norEGGrets. Machar, the saint/fantastic human being he is, papier-mached these broken eggshell hats and then painted our faces with running yolk! It was actually really impressive, and I’m so happy he did that. I never expected to win the competition or the £350 cash prize, but there was a costume contest as well – so thank god for Machar/our getups. We ended up placing fifth of six teams during the day, but they chose us for the best costumes! So we won an entire flat of VKs, these sweet malt-based drinks. Victory. Anyway. Throughout the day we did shopping cart races, water balloon catapult, a scavenger hunt, a catwalk/dance-off (which we also dominated, doing a super-flamboyant rendition of RuPaul’s “Sissy That Walk,” also thanks completely to Machar, what a star he is), and various drinking games – beer pong, strawberry lace race, a relay using all four floors of the GUU, etc. It was all for free, too, and I had a marvelous time. SO glad that Maddy + Machar were up for it, because it was so much fun. And those two are the sweetest ❤ ❤ So much love for them.
3. GULGBTQ+ Tingz – So here in Scotland/the UK, February is LGBT+ History Month. Because I’m on the queer committee at GU, we’ve been involved in/affiliated with events throughout February. The Launch Party at the GUU Base Bar, with free prosecco and karaoke. Rainbow Riot Party at the QMU (the other student union), with all its oily and warm paint that was so stupid but so fun. All our events, with standouts being the Sex and Booze Party (with a workshop on consent, condom-on-cucumber challenge, Sex Charades, and condom balloon relay race) and the Flat Crawl, which was my event for the year, and an absolute banger. Everyone adored it and had a great time. Naturally, I led the game Dice – throwback to Slytherin Cider and Taylor, Mwanza, and I frosh leading in September 2012! – and people loved it. Great night, even if it ended a bit prematurely 😛 Kristen knows what I’m talking about, you can ask her.
4. But the GUSA Colour Run deserves a special mention. GUSA is yet another of our student unions, the Sports one – so they have a part of my heart, since they run the Stevie/gym, my second home, AND they gave me free sunglasses at the Refreshers’ Fair. They organized a 5K run to raise money for LGBT Youth Scotland, with those coloured powders like in the Holi festival in India (to make it rainbow, I suppose). I wasn’t down to pay £10 to participate in something I wasn’t even sure I could manage in the first place – especially since it was super likely it’d be raining that day anyway – so instead, I volunteered! Helped with registration, giving out t-shirts, and throwing the powder at the participants (especially Daniel, Alex, and Creag, who killed it by legit running the whole time!)… And I’m glad I did that too. Got a free t-shirt myself, some amazing photos all covered in prismatic colour, and it was an ideal way to start a Sunday morning – with pals and working for a good cause 🙂 So great.
5. SQUASH! Finally (since I’m getting tired and have already mounted 2100 words), the past couple weeks, I’ve been playing squash with Laura (another shout-out for you, dearest!) and her classmates/mates Arthur, Vladimir, Elizaveta, and Rohan on Saturdays! I absolutely adore the sport and it’s perfect to energize myself on a lazy weekend afternoon. I’m not too shabby either, which always feels good, and it’s good to let off some steam, haha. And then afterward, I feel all pumped to hit the gym, so we all go and train/lift afterward, which I think is pretty impressive. And then back home to refuel and relax, and the endorphin high afterwards is hard to beat. I can feel justified in being a bit lazy the rest of the day, too, since I had such an active morning. So, I’ve been loving that.

 

To conclude, of sorts, it’s somehow already friggin’ March, and I haven’t been traveling at all since I returned from Mallorca in mid-December. Granted, 3.5 weeks abroad is not exactly nothing, but that was three months ago now. I’m only here for about two months more (possibly three), as I said, so I really need to get my rear in gear. Traveling around Europe when you’re already based here is infinitely easier and cheaper than flying overseas to get here. So… I need to get movin’. I just looked up some flights today, and there are £13 one-way trips to Berlin in mid-April and £19 ones to Budapest around the same time. Dear Enbal and I want to take a trip together, so we were thinking Eastern Europe. Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Bratislava, and possibly Budapest. She’s wary to take on too much/too many cities, since she’s not a hardcore traveler like I am, but I definitely want to see her before I fly back across the Atlantic. So hopefully she and I will get our sh!t together and book our itineraries sooner rather than later.

For now, though, it’s lunch time, then off to the library and gym to be a productive human being!

Hope you’ve enjoyed my Comeback to Blogging™. “Surprise, b!tch, I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.” Alright. Off to the real world. Bi for now lovelies ❤

– Jefe

Florence + the Machine of the Renaissance

Hey! Merry Christmas to everyone! (Depending on when you’re reading this)

The fam and I were in no rush to wake up this morning, since we are on vacation, after all. We started the day with a nice brunch and yummy mimosas, at Bryson’s bequest, then opened some cards from the grandmothers. I gave my sibling and parents the gifts/souvenirs I got them from Italy and was really excited to do it! Think I did a good job in picking some appropriate things out – a wine stopper for Dad, gold-coloured with a gondola on top, from Venice (since he brews his own wine); a compact mirror with Botticelli’s Birth of Venus on it for Mum (from Florence, since the painting is displayed in the Uffizi Gallery there); and a ceramic cast of the Bocca della Verità from Rome for Bryson, as a reminder to share their truth, even when it’s difficult.

Then we went to a beach along the south coast of Mallorca for a couple hours, just sunbathing, listening to the waves, and relaxing. Crazy to think that we were lying on the sand and enjoying the warmth on Christmas Day. It definitely doesn’t seem like the holiday season here, but I suppose it’s also completely uncharacteristically balmy back “home” in North America too. Now we’re just chilling out a bit as a delicious chicken roast stuffed with pistachio cooks! Can’t wait! Yum!

Anyhow… Let’s knock summarizing another Italian city off the list, shall we? This time it’s Firenze.

Now, Florence was the city I was most excited to visit on my trip to Italy. It actually was my #2 destination for my year in Europe (as I’m sure you’ve heard before), and that fervor to see it was inspired by reading Dan Brown’s Inferno and from having multiple friends tell me how amazing it was. And, as is often the case with me, I had very high expectations for it, they didn’t quite meet them, and thus I felt disappointed. It’s annoying when that happens, but I’ve learned how to https://33.media.tumblr.com/9eec4679d16948b8756f67b8194ecda0/tumblr_nazvyphLx21txplyno1_500.gif – so it’s fine. And it’s not like Florence wasn’t wonderful, either, don’t get me wrong.

I stayed at “The Florence Experience,” right near the Ponte Vecchio, which I only had to pay €15 for for two nights. Comfortable bed, too, and amazing ceilings – but the staff were pretty rude. Definitely not welcoming or all that kind. You get what you pay for, though, and I did sleep fine and it was well-located, so it’s cool.

Maybe the best thing about Florence was the food I ate. I had two delicious sandwiches for my two lunches, and oh my god, were they phenomenal! Literally so damn good. The first was made of schiacciata (what the Florentines call focaccia) with artichoke spread, prosciutto, roasted eggplant, and a spicy sauce. The second I got after seeing a long line outside a hole-in-the-wall paninoteca while strolling around the first day. The sandwich was enormous and only cost me €5, for pecorino, artichoke spread, fennel salami, arugula, basil, eggplant, tomato, etc. It took me more than a half hour to eat, it was so huge, and I enjoyed every messy second of it. Sat in Piazzala della Signoria, people-watched, and listened to pretty girl play this really cool, new-age-looking percussion instrument. It was wonderful.

Then for the dinners, I got back into aperitivo in a big way. Paid €8 for a Moscow Mule (my new favourite drink: vodka, ginger beer, lime) at the first place and €10 for “El Diablo” (tequila, lemonade, elderflower liqueur, other things) the second night at Kitsch. And at both these bars, I ate more than my fill. I went there alone, of course, so there was no conversation slowing me down or distracting me from really tucking into the all-you-can-eat buffets they had. And there were some quality choices, too – ricotta dumplings, so many pasta dishes, bruschetta, pizza, mashed potatoes, couscous salad, polenta, pesto, plenty of dishes with seafood, several salads, stuffed pizza, crostini, bean dip – so many delectable things, and the best part is that they keep refilling them! I went a bit too HAM at these pubs and suffered a bit of a stomach ache afterwards, but let me tell you, it was worth. Aperitivo might have been my favourite thing about Italy… It just made no sense to fork over €8-10 for one plate of pasta (with a couple extra euros for coperto, servizio, and/or pane) when I could pay the same price for a fancy cocktail and all the food I could desire at these buffets. I miss them already.

As for the more substantial travel blogging, here it is: Florence is beautiful, naturally. The city/historic centre is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and I’m happy it is. All the terra cotta roofs, the mellow earth tones painted on all the houses, the narrow streets, architectural detailing and ironwork on balconies and window shutters – it’s exactly like the Tuscany you’ve seen in photos and movies. Wonderful to walk around and see, to immerse yourself in. The Duomo (the main church that Firenze is famous for) is jaw-droppingly gorgeous, much more so than I expected. The façade is done up in multicoloured marble with countless expertly-sculpted statues adorning the expanse. The bell tower is stately as well, and all the circular windows with exquisite stained glass. But what’s the most impressive is the absolutely magnificent dome that dominates the whole skyline. Even though it was erected in the late 1200s, it still looms tall over almost all the other buildings in the city. I suppose it’s possible that other structures aren’t allowed to block its views and that’s why it stands out so much; I’m not sure. But the Cathedral itself is still an awe-inspiring sight to behold. Even the interior, which is much plainer than most churches I’ve entered – by design, mind you – still stunned me with its massive scale. It’s possible to climb all the 400+ steps to the top of the Dome, too, which no doubt would have offered killer views, but the ticket to do so was pricey. €15 to ascend to the upper deck, scale the bell tower too, visit the museum, and access the Baptistery as well – but you couldn’t buy them piecemeal, there was no student discount, and the two days I spent in the city were cloudy, so I passed it over. Don’t regret it, either. And I did manage to get on a rooftop patio, so I got to see a similar vista anyway.

Ponte Vecchio (which means “Old Bridge,” nothing special or notable) is the other famous structure in Florence, and it really is unique and picturesque. The span is crammed with narrow buildings, small shops, and the secret corridor between two palaces mentioned in Inferno, and it all makes the whole thing look quaint and adorable. Well, that is, when you view it from another bridge or one of the banks, though – when you’re actually on it, you’re just overwhelmed with all the tourists, annoyed by the street vendors, and disappointed that these super-old stores now just sell jewelry from international companies, nothing authentically Italian. So it’s amazing from afar but up close, it’s just another tourist trap. What was really cool, though, was how they projected all these art collages onto the side of the Ponte at night, shifting every thirty seconds. It was fantastic to watch the colours glide into each other, on such a unique and historical canvas. Reminded me of Montreal, actually – of Place des Arts – with all the light shows/images projected onto buildings. I always liked it, and now Florence has it too!

The city is also renowned for boasting lots of important art, including Michelangelo’s “David” and numerous Botticelli works (including the aforementioned Venus). The Uffizi Gallery and the Accademia are the galleries of note, but naturally, they both require admission fees, so I skipped over them. The Piazza della Signoria has several impressive statues on display anyway, including a reproduction of the David and an actual Jeff Koons oeuvre. That was plenty for me, since I tire/get jaded by art quickly. But it’s something that definitely draws others to the city.

Other attractions include the Sinagoga, some churches, the Palazzo Pitti and Palazzo Vecchio (which the secret corridor links), Boboli Gardens, the Belvedere Fort, the Fortezza da Basso, etc. I made sure to wander around and check them out, but they all cost money to enter, and nothing really interested me all that much. So I did my typical thing of meandering around and experiencing the city that way, instead of shelling out cash for all the “must-do” activities. It might be flawed, but that’s my modus operandi anyhow. For the second night, I trekked up to Piazzale Michelangelo, which boasts another copy of David, to see the Florentine skyline and watch as the sun descended. Of course, as I already said, it was overcast the two days I was in the city, so the sunset wasn’t anything special or spectacular (or even visible). Disappointing, sure, but it was really nice to see the sky darken and to witness all the lights coming on in the city. All the important buildings were pleasantly illuminated – the Duomo, Palazzo Vecchio, Sinagoga, etc – which made for some nice views. I sat on a stone staircase with other “audience members” and enjoyed the change, and also the chance to rest. It was such a nice setting that a couple even posed on the steps for their wedding photos! So that was fun to witness.

And beyond that… I don’t think I did too much else in Florence! I ate well, saw some beautiful things, was grateful that it was warmer, and enjoyed my time meandering around the Heart of the Renaissance. I was also annoyed, however, that the day I left was the day the sun decided to come out. It’s astounding how much prettier things look when it’s sunny – but it’s fine, I’ll catch it next time.

Now we’re gonna call the grandmothers to wish them a merry Christmas! Hope all is well with all of you!

Go enjoy yourselves,

– Jefe