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As I photograph the view from my scooter’s rear view mirror, looking straight ahead on this trail on Victoria’s bay all I see are condos. Makes me sad to think of the people who were forcibly removed from this land. There are some totems and plaques now talking about traditional sacred places and how the Esquimalt people ‘relocated’. I want to see plaques that say there was a war waged on Indigenous peoples and now we’re building condos and drinking Starbucks. I want to see fires burning and I want to learn the significance of smudging and the drum. Reading BS on plaques is for tourists. I’m a settler. I live here. I want to see the truth written in public spaces. Its written in the earth whether we want to read it or not anyway.

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On a passé par le plus petit rue dans l’Amérique du nord. J and I hitting the smallest street in North America. Fan Tan Alley!!

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A few pics of the On- water city project today… We went on a biiig boat!! It was so nice to be floating on that water. To see the islands and hear the gulls hailin ass up there in the sky, looking for crabs to pick up, drop, smash open and eat. The ride was smooth, with no problems for the scooters. Even up to the observation deck, which was seriously windy and invigorating.

I had my traditional fries and gravy which I used to eat on the ferry every time my family would go visit our grandparents on the Sunshine Coast as a kid. I was really thinking of all the lovely times I had on the boat as a kid with my Mum and sister and sometimes cousins, and how the magic never goes away as I get older and obviously so much wiser;) I thought about how much my Auntie Bev loved the ferry. As I sailed between the small islands on the way to Victoria today I remembered her keeping track of all the boats’ comings and goings when we stayed in a windy cabin on Mayne Island once, figuring out when the next one was due so we could head down to the shore and wave it on through. I felt her with me as we sailed that narrow straight today. Well, signing off mateys, this seafarer is tired.

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Dear rose. You would not beleive the people here. They are standing and sitting. They are playing with their hair. They’re noticing nothing but the beautiful view and their own thoughts. And the water is so relaxing its making me want to barf. I’m sitting on a pier amongst fish and chips eating tourists and young families, all chilling, talking mildly about going to find a bathroom and telling their kids to try the fish and to sit on your bum on daddy’s lap. Girl, its the type of place that doesn’t make you want to cut people off or throw your cigarettes on the ground but makes you want to yell fuck in front of the old ladies a bit. Maybe i just haven’t been here long enough. Maybe if I stayed that urge would float away with the going tide. Like everything else, the people here seem to know.

Something smells like curry, something smells like sea salt and diesel and something smells like self doubt. As I stare out into the vastness through my stringy travel bangs, no matter how much product I put in it I still have boat hair, craving a cigarette I don’t even smoke, I think to myself, I could really live here. I could.

All the sidewalks have indents, drivers wait, cyclists have their own lane. There’s no sense of urgency here, no one walking into me, people don’t move around like they’re wearing blindfolds. They smile at each other as though they’re genuinely trying to spread positivity to your face. I don’t feel like I have to apologize for being. People give me the space that I need, bus drivers talk to me, and I don’t feel stared at like I’m a monster.

The air is cool and fresh and filled with space as it travels through my nose into my throat clearing out all the anxiety and bellowing into my lungs and freeing itself into my bloodstream. It’s making me nervous. If you were here you’d be doing what I am doing: sitting watching boats looking and birds and the water.

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Première fois que je voulais dire fuck translink (la système de transport à Vancouver) car j’avais la misère de rentrer l’autobus. C’est ma première voyage dans le bus dans le scooter et ca prendre du temps. Et après on se stationner le monsieur nous dit que il faut tourner dans l’autre direction! Quand nous l’expliquons que c’est l’opposait à Montreal il nous disent, ‘ici vous êtes pas à Montréal’. Merde. Il parle de nous dans nos faces comme on n’est pas là et il fait nous chicaner. Finalement Julien se conduit mon scooter pour le positionner. Merci J, pas de remerciement à monsieur chauffeur;)

First time I say fuck translink, the Vancouver transit system. I got on a bus with my scoot scoot for the first time and its a very tight space so it took time. The driver was impatient and talked about us in front of us. Then we had to turn the opposite way and when we explained we entered straight on cause that’s how it is in Mtl the driver was all ‘well you’re not in Montreal’. I said ‘no we’re not although it feels like we are at the moment.’ Sassy I know but the guy was being a tool. So J had to back my scoot off the bus and park it correctly for me. Thanks J, no thanks driver man;)

Day trip to Victoria? Why not! On se lève tôt pour un mim-voyage vers Victoria. C’est quand même loin de Vancouver…

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Is it true? Am I too pretty to be in a wheelchair? That’s what the guy with the stroller in the skytrain elevator said.
Its a scooter bitch. And you’re sexist. Also.. Some views from the commute on the way to the aquariummm!!

ollieramblings:

meekobits:

So as I mentioned before, it’s that time of year.

When all the open barrels of Nuts get pushed to the front of the store. Where the smell of hazelnut coffee and holiday drinks fill the air! Where people are always eating and handing out chocolates and sweets and oh so many wonderful things!!

All of which can kill me.

I have a severe nut allergy. VERY severe. Where the smell CAN kill me. I’ve had too many close calls before and it resulted in me having to wear a mask and gloves through most of college. It’s a black, neoprene, filtered mask.

It keeps me alive.

But cause people to stare. To call security on you. To treat you like a threat or a freak. They think you’re demanding attention and when you ask them not to eat anything with nuts they get offended that you are trying to take away their rights.

…

I was getting better. It was getting less severe and I could grocery shopping on my own. But something has triggered it again. I’m not sure what, but nearly dying in the mall has reminded me once again just how dangerous it is.

And I’m not just talking itchy rashes and hives, or being sick to your stomach. I’m talking, throat closing up and stop breathing. It’s like drowning, but you can’t figure out where the surface is so you have no way of getting up for air.

And then after, you’re in the hospital. The epi-pen that saved your life is causing your heart to race and the allergy medicine is wanting to put you to sleep. Your body is in complete confusion! And by the time the doctor gets around to see you, he yells at you for wasting his time, since you are not showing any symptoms he’s familiar with. And you can barely form words, are still shaking form a near-death experience and can’t fight back.

So they leave you in a bed, hooked up to machines for eight hours. All alone and then send you home…

So, this holiday season, can you just be allergy aware? And if you know someone with a food allergy, be kind? It’s horrid to have.

And I’m dreading stepping outside today because I know, the mask and gloves have to come back on and I hate it.

But living is a little more important to me…

Just know I’ll be a little out of it for a few days. It takes a while for my body to fully recover. So if I act weird or go silent, that’s why. Sorry.

I had no idea it could be so severe.

Reblogging because this is important.

Wow. No more almonds on transit for me!!

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BC plates and pre-coffee headaches, on est presque rendu à Vancouver!