Archive for September, 2013
(if disabled, click here)
I admit it. Sigh. I am a Vancouverite. Yes, a real one. I had to preface that because, well, most people who live in Vancouver are not originally from Vancouver – but rather from some town in the interior or outskirts, or maybe the Prairies, or even maybe Ontario – who think they are a Vancouverite because they’ve lived here for 5 years minimum…but psst, they’ll never really be accepted as a Vancouverite by true blood ones. We’re exclusive like that.
BORN IN THE V-A-N
So yes, I was born (smack in the middle of the city) and raised there. So yes, it’s my hometown. It’s pretty. But it’s also soulless. Really soulless…which is probably why so many Vancouverites desperately go to yoga classes to feel like they have a soul in the first place (hello, Lululemon originated here after all).
AWAY AND BACK
Aw shucks, yes, I am a true Vancouverite but I can actually make fun of my hometown without scowling, which is rare for a Vancouver-bred person. I whine how cold, unfeeling, unfriendly, unambitious, undriven, unfun, egregiously expensive it is. This is only because I’m a Vancouverite who actually – *gasp* – left the city for a stint abroad, and returned only to find out *glass shattering* that Vancouver is not the fashizzle that I thought it was, much like a gorgeous teenager who looks like she’s 25 and mature on the outside but inside is naive, vapid, vain, confused, immature, judgmental, eager to please, and has no direction.
BUT THE VIEW!
Of course, I can also defend it for being so very pretty, balancing the mountains with the ocean, having the gorgeous seawall I take my running path, the ample hiking trails, and the abundant number of foodie-goodness eats.
HOW TO BE A VANCOUVERITE AGAIN
Do I still have pangs of wishing I lived in a more cosmopolitan, cultured, friendlier city? Of course, but this is my hometown, warts and all, and I’m learning to find my place in it again. Ha, yes, I’ve even adopted my kale, quinoa, yoga, wellness inspired self here, a la the youtube video above.
(if disabled, click HERE)
WHAT I MEANT WAS, DAILY CRY
This 3-minute commercial from a Thai communications company had me ruining my makeup while clenching Kleenex tissues every second of its run. Even if it didn’t have English subtitles, you could still get the gist of the message and it’s so lovely. To give with no expectation of return, to walk in kindness every day, to treat everyone fairly. *sniffles* So good.
THE RIGHT KIND OF LOVE
LISTEN. Today deserved a “feel-good” song to cheer up the blues. And it turns out that this very old ’90s song fit the bill for me. You needn’t see the video, just listen to the song. It makes me smile. Seriously. When the chorus goes, “It’s the riiiiight kind of love…,” it makes you want to groove down into the ground. All heavy. All getting right down into it already.
Meant in that way where the energy roots into the floor, vibrating out into waves, with each move to the jam, à la Aaliyah’s smooth and tight moves.
Okay….that doesn’t sound at all like I mean it to. Erm…
PS: Wanna Girl‘s chorus? Guilty pleasure fun. Trust. LISTEN. I really want to say, “Go white boy” when this is on. But that would be all sorts of wrong.