Right now I’m doing my University Transfer courses at Capilano College, as many of you may be aware.

Cap is a great school for someone like me, academically speaking.  The class sizes are smaller, the teachers are great, and it’s a good stepping stone from the 5-year-downward spiral-gap I had between high school and post-secondary.

That being said, Cap is on the North Shore.  I know several great people on the North Shore. My dad’s best friend lives on the North Shore, for that matter.  There are fun things to do on the North Shore.  When I mentioned to my friend Patrick, who does live in North Van, but attends UBC, that I was going to Cap he went “oooh…. you mean North Van High.”

This is a reference to the student body.

A lot of the student body is your typical mish-mash of liberal arts, bohemian, “I’M GOING TO SAVE THE WORLD AND SHOW EVERYONE ELSE HOW TO” type.

And then we have a group that would be considered, I guess, to be Canada’s equivalent of

characters on Laguna Beach or the O.C. or whatever.  I’m not sure, since I’ve never actually watched those shows.

Today I found myself getting dressed, and was about to pick up a jacket that I enjoy very much.  I got it at Goodwill for 5$ a few years ago, and it has seen better days.  It is ripped and shit, but I like it.

I realized that I don’t have expensive, or even new clothes.  I started feeling like the way I felt when I was a kid going to school in the Beaches.  I hadn’t really ever had that feeling since then.  It was strange.

I’m 23 now.

But it’s cold, and I can’t find my other jackets, so I’m gonna wear my ripped to fuck jacket to school, even if the people in my Geogs class think I’m a crackhead. (As one girl said to me “I NEVER go south of the water.Ugh!” For those of you who do not live in Vancouver, that is a reference to the Burrard Inlet which separates North & West Vancouver from the Lower Mainland.  It is the most expensive part of Canada to live in.

Creative Writing class is different.  It’s just a bunch of wackos like me.

My stop was next, so I pulled the cord.  It seemed like the bus was about to slow down, but then it lurched toward the centre of the road.

I yelled (as loud as I could when I’m sick), “excuse me?!?! I pulled the cord!” but the bus  driver did not hear.

I scuttled to the front of the bus and once again said “excuse me, I pulled the cord but you didn’t stop.”

The bus driver–jovial, fat and Santa Claus-like swerved to the curb and stopped the bus:

“Just for you, I am making a special stop, and an anomaly due apology…”

He told me, somewhat insincerely, to have a great day.  I thanked him and somewhat insincerely gave him my wishes that his day could be as great of a day [as the one he wished for me??], but this was not going to be a great day.

Today will be another day of procrastination, lying in bed, blowing my nose, chainsmoking slightly less than when I’m not ill, and blogging about my little slice of life that I am illustrating in this here “blog”.  It’s not all bad.

Class was interesting? Read more.

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