When life gives you lemons.
What a day.
I ended up being late for my "Once Upon A Cure" volunteer orientation, a project I have been working on for close to 9 months now because I got caught up in the thrift store finding a Halloween costume that I just couldn't let go.
After missing the sea bus I had intended on taking, I ended up on the next one... right beside the new born baby who didn't seem to be happy with the way things were going. And on came the headache; probably partially from lack of sleep the night before, partially from dehydration, and without a doubt, largely caused by this young child's piercing scream.
I figured the responsible thing to do would be to call and let someone know that I was running a little bit late. To my pleasant surprise, when I took my phone out of my pocket, the screen was black. Lately it has enjoyed randomly shutting off and not turning back on until it's inconveniently plugged back into a power source.
The skytrain was my next adventure. That went fairly smoothly, except for the old lady who spilled hot coffee on my arm; and that I was just about a strand of hair away from being slammed by the doors of the skytrain because I was caught in a daydream when we reached my stop.
I arrived at the Sutton Place Hotel surprisingly not too behind schedule. I was a little wet for my liking, however, and not exactly wearing the proper footwear for the amount of rain Vancouver can douse. As all the volunteers stood in a circle learning about what our jobs entail, I was looking around the floor at people's foot attire. Plenty of UGGS, some gumboots, leather boots, and the odd Toms. There I stood with red, numb toes in my ever so suitable Birkenstocks.
The rest of the meeting went fine. Might I add that I am super excited to finally see this thing happen. I've seen all the sweat and tears (hopefully no blood) that the Purcell family, and so many others have put into this. Endless newspaper articles, television news features, tweets, statuses and blog updates about finding a cure for the monster we call MPS-II. Compared to the work everyone else has put in, what I've done seems quite minimal, but I am proud of the contribution I've made.
On the way home I decided it might be faster to bus home rather than hop aboard the sea bus. Much to my surprise as I approached the bus stop, my bus was there- almost as if it were waiting for me. Maybe the first thing that had gone my way this entire day. Turns out the reason the bus was waiting there, for me, was because it was out of service; having technical difficulties.
I'm a pretty patient person, but here's where you would start to loose it. I took a few deep breaths and took a seat under shelter. The worst case scenario would be waiting 20 minutes for the next bus, and that was if this bus wasn't fixed before that. Twenty minutes was the perfect amount of time to do the assigned reading for my Lit class.
I sat there trying to read. The bus driver was near by having a smoke when a curious commuter began asking questions about Translink, Bombardier, trolley-cars and subway stations. From a passer-by, these two middle aged men could have looked to be lifelong friends. Moving into conversation about German engineering, the economy in the United States and even night life in Vancouver. I learned a thing or two as well. Who would have guessed that the new Translink buses cost $500 000 a piece. With his Eastern-European accent, this bus driver explained the new transportation route that may possibly go in to conveniently connect UBC with downtown Vancouver.
For me, this was one of those moments that makes you smile. I sat there in the pouring rain, waiting for a bus that was shut down, pretending to read a book while actually eavesdropping on a conversation between two random strangers who could have been cursing the circumstances, but instead took it as an opportunity for conversation and learning. After all that had gone wrong in my day, I found something to smile about. I love Vancouver. The sound of those rain drops on the bus stop's roof, and watching the hustle and bustle of the West Coast's jewel was a moment to cherish. People rushed by. Up and down the staircase leading to the underground skytrain station. Lots of business people carrying briefcases, families with kids in strollers, and what you could call the dread-locked, sustainably conscious hippies.
That wasn't the end of my bad luck, karma, stupidity; whatever you want to call it. About 10 minutes into my bus ride, it occurred to me that the bus I was on was heading to the North Shore all right, but not via the Lions Gate Bridge; therefore not by Lonsdale Quay where I had left the car. By this point, a realization like that doesn't even begin to get to me. I guess I will just have to catch the 239 Park Royal upon my arrival at Phibbs. Lets consider it taking the scenic route.
I finally made the trek back up (in the rain; without an umbrella) to the car parked on Lonsdale and 6th. Now I am absolutely starving, and some liquids in me wouldn't hurt either. As I drove back home; roof over my head, good music in my ears- I let out a deep sigh. Everything is okay. After all that; what some might have considered to be an obviously horrible day, I have nothing to complain about. My life is absolutely fine. And can a day be really all that horrible if you're coming out of it with a little extra knowledge?
So since I started writing this, my little brother has deleted a good half an hour of my hard work right off my computer. Better than 3 hours, I guess. And I couldn't help but feel, as I stuck my hand in my backpack to take out some books, that a bottle of shampoo and conditioner have leaked everywhere. First off, who keeps shampoo and conditioner in their backpacks? And secondly, I guess out of anything that could have spilled, shampoo and conditioner are some of your better options.
I ended up being late for my "Once Upon A Cure" volunteer orientation, a project I have been working on for close to 9 months now because I got caught up in the thrift store finding a Halloween costume that I just couldn't let go.
After missing the sea bus I had intended on taking, I ended up on the next one... right beside the new born baby who didn't seem to be happy with the way things were going. And on came the headache; probably partially from lack of sleep the night before, partially from dehydration, and without a doubt, largely caused by this young child's piercing scream.
I figured the responsible thing to do would be to call and let someone know that I was running a little bit late. To my pleasant surprise, when I took my phone out of my pocket, the screen was black. Lately it has enjoyed randomly shutting off and not turning back on until it's inconveniently plugged back into a power source.
The skytrain was my next adventure. That went fairly smoothly, except for the old lady who spilled hot coffee on my arm; and that I was just about a strand of hair away from being slammed by the doors of the skytrain because I was caught in a daydream when we reached my stop.
I arrived at the Sutton Place Hotel surprisingly not too behind schedule. I was a little wet for my liking, however, and not exactly wearing the proper footwear for the amount of rain Vancouver can douse. As all the volunteers stood in a circle learning about what our jobs entail, I was looking around the floor at people's foot attire. Plenty of UGGS, some gumboots, leather boots, and the odd Toms. There I stood with red, numb toes in my ever so suitable Birkenstocks.
The rest of the meeting went fine. Might I add that I am super excited to finally see this thing happen. I've seen all the sweat and tears (hopefully no blood) that the Purcell family, and so many others have put into this. Endless newspaper articles, television news features, tweets, statuses and blog updates about finding a cure for the monster we call MPS-II. Compared to the work everyone else has put in, what I've done seems quite minimal, but I am proud of the contribution I've made.
On the way home I decided it might be faster to bus home rather than hop aboard the sea bus. Much to my surprise as I approached the bus stop, my bus was there- almost as if it were waiting for me. Maybe the first thing that had gone my way this entire day. Turns out the reason the bus was waiting there, for me, was because it was out of service; having technical difficulties.
I'm a pretty patient person, but here's where you would start to loose it. I took a few deep breaths and took a seat under shelter. The worst case scenario would be waiting 20 minutes for the next bus, and that was if this bus wasn't fixed before that. Twenty minutes was the perfect amount of time to do the assigned reading for my Lit class.
I sat there trying to read. The bus driver was near by having a smoke when a curious commuter began asking questions about Translink, Bombardier, trolley-cars and subway stations. From a passer-by, these two middle aged men could have looked to be lifelong friends. Moving into conversation about German engineering, the economy in the United States and even night life in Vancouver. I learned a thing or two as well. Who would have guessed that the new Translink buses cost $500 000 a piece. With his Eastern-European accent, this bus driver explained the new transportation route that may possibly go in to conveniently connect UBC with downtown Vancouver.
For me, this was one of those moments that makes you smile. I sat there in the pouring rain, waiting for a bus that was shut down, pretending to read a book while actually eavesdropping on a conversation between two random strangers who could have been cursing the circumstances, but instead took it as an opportunity for conversation and learning. After all that had gone wrong in my day, I found something to smile about. I love Vancouver. The sound of those rain drops on the bus stop's roof, and watching the hustle and bustle of the West Coast's jewel was a moment to cherish. People rushed by. Up and down the staircase leading to the underground skytrain station. Lots of business people carrying briefcases, families with kids in strollers, and what you could call the dread-locked, sustainably conscious hippies.
That wasn't the end of my bad luck, karma, stupidity; whatever you want to call it. About 10 minutes into my bus ride, it occurred to me that the bus I was on was heading to the North Shore all right, but not via the Lions Gate Bridge; therefore not by Lonsdale Quay where I had left the car. By this point, a realization like that doesn't even begin to get to me. I guess I will just have to catch the 239 Park Royal upon my arrival at Phibbs. Lets consider it taking the scenic route.
I finally made the trek back up (in the rain; without an umbrella) to the car parked on Lonsdale and 6th. Now I am absolutely starving, and some liquids in me wouldn't hurt either. As I drove back home; roof over my head, good music in my ears- I let out a deep sigh. Everything is okay. After all that; what some might have considered to be an obviously horrible day, I have nothing to complain about. My life is absolutely fine. And can a day be really all that horrible if you're coming out of it with a little extra knowledge?
So since I started writing this, my little brother has deleted a good half an hour of my hard work right off my computer. Better than 3 hours, I guess. And I couldn't help but feel, as I stuck my hand in my backpack to take out some books, that a bottle of shampoo and conditioner have leaked everywhere. First off, who keeps shampoo and conditioner in their backpacks? And secondly, I guess out of anything that could have spilled, shampoo and conditioner are some of your better options.
LOL, I cleaned up the leaked shampoo......after I sat some clean laundry in it!
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