Life and Times – Part I

Most of my posts have been about a particular topic, so I decided it’s time for a good old fashioned general update. You know – the kind people send in Christmas cards.

First, I’m happy to announce that regional council has accepted a motion to review the model non-smoking bylaw presented to them last night (as per my previous post "I hate smoking"). That means within as little as six or eight weeks we might have a decision “yay” or “nay” to a 100% smoking ban. That could mean no more rolling over on your smoky hair the night after going out for drinks! Oh, and I guess I should also say ‘no more dangerous exposure to second-hand smoke’!

I love my new place. I really, really love it. Even though my uninstalled dishwasher is serving as a mail-collecting kitchen table, and most of my dinners are eaten on the couch due to a lack of other tables, I still feel at home. Furniture will come with time. I made a commitment and put up one piece of artwork on Monday night… hopefully with time I will make the commitment to others, but I have to wait until I’m ready. As the snow melts I am getting introduced to my sidewalk and back patio cement blocks (ewww). I can’t wait to whip my yard into shape and grow some flowers!

The boy… ah, the boy. What a great man. He can drive on the highway AND give me back rubs at the same time; he compliments my cooking even though sometimes it’s honestly not that good; and he voluntarily does fix-it stuff around the house. What more could I ask for?

However, life is never always roses… I also have some really sad news: my best friend’s mom passed away. I flew to Victoria last Friday to attend the service, and it was an immensely sad day. Kory was like a second mom to me when I was a kid and the family lived right across the street. She was very creative, fun, quirky and probably the liveliest person I’ve ever met. It deeply saddens me that she is gone, and I don’t think I’ve yet accepted I will never see her again. The worst part is that she will not be around to see Kristen fall in love and get married, or meet her grandchildren. The best part is that Kristen possesses the same good qualities and tremendously positive energy that her mom had, and I’m lucky to have such a fantastic person for a best friend.

And now for some materialistic bad news… say “good bye” to the midnight blue grand am you remember me driving since I was 17 years old. I got rear ended by a truck three weeks ago and just received the news on Friday that they’re writing it off. She was still in such good shape, too, besides the hole in the back bumper that had yet to be repaired from four weeks before that when someone backed in to me (see “No parking in the driveway” post). It’s funny how life works:
(1) move into a house that you can afford, but only because you already own a car;
(2) get rear-ended the very next day;
(3) soon get forced to choose between driving an older, used car so you don’t have car payments, or stretch your monthly budget to its limits and buy a newer one.
Ha. Ha.

Food is starting to take over my life again. (Could it have something to do with the stress?) I’ve been lucky so far and limited my weight gain to a measly two pounds, thanks in part to the two bouts of A&W. When I got back to Edmonton from Victoria on Sunday, I was dying for Maurya Palace; however the people I was with hate East Indian food, so it was a no-go. I settled for Earl’s Jeera Chicken Curry when I got back into town, which is not nearly as delicious, but satisfied my craving nonetheless. Wish me luck on curbing this evil thing called hunger.

Who loves spring time? I know I do! It’s very sunny outside right now, and the sun streaming in through my window is making me look forward to when, in a couple months, I will be floating down the Clearwater River on a floatie with the sound of good friends surrounding me and the smell of sun tan lotion in the air. It could very well snow again in the next four weeks, but the melting snow and re-appearance of pavement is making me ache for camping, barbeques and the smell of dusty Fort McMurray summer air.

Okay, seriously! No one’s life is interesting enough to keep a reader’s attention for this long. Especially without pictures. Thanks for hanging in there, dudes. <3 Nicole

I hate smoking

Everyone knows this... smoking sucks. And second hand smoke is a bitch to deal with if you’re a non-smoker. That’s why I’ve voluntarily joined the Wood Buffalo Tobacco Reduction Coalition (WBTRC), and for those of you who know me are probably thinking, “that’s right up your alley, Nicole!” The goal of this non-profit organization is to rally council to ban smoking in all public places in Fort McMurray.

Tomorrow night (Tuesday, March 27) the WBTRC is presenting the model bylaw to regional council to review and adopt. This would mean no more smokers’ voice after a night at Paddy’s, or any other bar. If you want smoking banned in all public places, show your support by joining me and the coalition at tomorrow night’s council meeting. It’s at 6 p.m. sharp in the council chambers at city hall, and you’ll be out of there by 6:20. Basically we want to get as many people at the meeting as we can – your presence will be a strong visual indicator of community support! For all the shy people out there – don’t worry, you won’t have to speak or anything – just be there!

And if you can’t to make it tomorrow night, at least sign the online petition: www.wbtrc.ca



Click here to see the newspaper advertisement

Hidey Ho, Neighboroonie

I guess I had a pretty naïve idea of my neighbours when I moved into the Beacon Hill condo blocks. My dad warned me months ago when I was looking at buying a place, “You’ll hate your neighbours if you buy there,” but I shrugged him off. Sorry to say, Dad was mostly right - I don’t hate my neighbours, but I dislike them very much.

There’s just one guy, really: my next door neighbour who is attached to me. His name is Bob. The first time I laid eyes on fifty-something Bob was the day after I moved in and I was leaving to go get some groceries. I was locking my door as he approached his entrance right beside me. I turned around with a smile to introduce myself, but he quickly barked, “It would be nice if you didn’t slam your door in the morning.”

I looked at him. Blinked with astonishment. Did he really just yell at me like that?

I don’t know what prompted his next comment, but I guess it was because I was staring at him with an angry, distorted look of disbelief... probably for a long time. “So, how’s school?” he asked.

“I don’t go to school,” I replied, and snobbishly explained that I worked in the Communications Department at the municipality.

“Oh, that’s good. The guy who used to live here was a teacher... (blah) (blah) (blah),” and he clumsily rambled on for 30 seconds longer, all the while slowly entering his house and closing his door.

I managed to cut in with an awkward, “Nice to meet you?” before the door closed. The whole interaction left me disappointed that my first meeting with my closest neighbour had gone so poorly, and outraged at the judgements he made about me in just 24 hours of me moving in.

The next meeting went a lot better. I caught him shovelling his sidewalk while I was walking home one afternoon, and I took the initiative to formally introduce myself. He was surprised but happy to hear that I owned, not rented, the condo. Then I pretended like I cared about the shit he was nattering on about and even ventured into his basement with him so he could show me the basement suite he was building. Eventually I broke free from Babbling Bob and went home.

The next day there was a note stuck in my door, from Bob, warning me not to back my car into the driveway because “kids around here like to smash headlights.”

A few days later I was getting ready to leave when my doorbell rang. It was Bob. “Just wanted to tell you not to back your car into the driveway because kids around here like to smash headlights,” he explained.

ME: “Yeah I got your note. Thanks.”

BOB: “I wanted to tell you again because I noticed you backed in last night.”

ME: “Yeah I had to get a desk out of the trunk when I got home, so backing in was easier. Thanks again.”

BOB: “Oh okay, bye bye.”

A few minutes later my doorbell rang again.

BOB: “Oh I forgot to tell you to be careful when you unlock your door because once I lost my keys...” and he proceeds to tell me how there’s some kind of four foot hole that swallowed his keys and he couldn’t get them out. I can’t give you the dialogue on this because I had no clue what he was on about.

NICOLE: “Oh okay, thanks Bob. Well, I better get to work.”

Who is this guy? I hate feeling like if I back into the driveway that my doorbell is going to ring. When I approach my house and I see that he’s home, I cringe because I feel like he’s staring out his window, testing me to see if I’ll back in and defy his orders.

On the bright side, there’s a drug rehab house on the other side of Bob. And the bright side is that it’s not a drug house, “rehab” is slapped right there in the middle. Don’t even get me started on the crooked-eyed aboriginal fellow who constantly enters and exits this particular house, obviously brain damaged from drug use and/or inhaling aerosols/gasoline. (This is not a racist remark by the way – I talked to the guy so I know he is/was fucked up on something.)

Anyhow, I guess my visions of smiling neighbours carrying over pies or other tasty treats to welcome me to the neighbourhood was in fact extremely naïve. I guess this is how things go in the 'hood.

I'm an educated fool with money on my mind
Got my tin in my hand and a gleam in my eye
I'm a low down gangsta, set tripping banger
And my homies is down so don't arouse my anger
Fool, death ain't nothing but a heart beat away
I'm living life do or die, what can I say?
I'm twenty-three now but will I live to see twenty-four
The way things is going I don't know.