After the boys of summer are gone

September 14, 2011

Summer is over. Wedding season is over. It’s all over. The summer of weddings culminated in the marriage of two very close friends, who true to form, celebrated with wine, shots and reality show video cameras all around them. It was fabulous!


This summer has been full of dancing, drinking, fist pumping, eating and the quick departure of many dollars from my already light bank account. But wow, I have had fun! I dare say that this has been the best summer of my entire life.


I have been all over the country this summer: Calgary, Algonquin, Muskoka….not to mention my new favourite place in the entire world, the Zamojc cottage at Sauble Beach. I went camping, swimming, dancing, golfing, yoga-ing (?), played tennis and mastered the art of BBQ-ing. I have consumed enough alcohol to pickle a small country and discovered that yes, it is possible to sun burn your lips (do not try this…it really really hurts). I have made new friends and strengthened bonds with familiar ones. I have explored new areas of myself (in an Oprah way…not a YouPorn way…) and am living a life full of happiness surrounded by people that I love. Canada is an amazing country and before this past summer, I was not aware of all the beautiful things this beautiful country has to offer and the phenomenal people within it.


Ah the summer…and now it’s over, my return to London looms in front of me. I must go; I must leave…far away from all these aforementioned beauties and back into the rain, the fog, the crowded tube…need I go on? Now don’t get me wrong, I have loved my time in London. I cannot think of a better place to have spent my early 20’s. I partied like a Princess! I travelled Europe/Africa/South East Asia! I met loads of new people! I worked some amazing jobs in amazing places! I met/followed many celebrities and learned some many tough lessons, very quickly! I have made life long friends that I will cherish forever and actually miss at times. But London moves so quickly- people are in and out of your life in the blink of an eye (my apologies for the cliche). I am at a place in my life where the anonymity and acceleration of London no longer exhilarates me- the blur of the future is beginning to morph into a viable shape. My only regret is that I did not go to Uni earlier as I think I may have burned all the brain cells I should be using to to complete my degree…


Oh yes…the degree…that little piece of paper on the horizon that will apparently change my life. My BA has been a long time in the making…this is my third attempt to get ‘er done, a string of illnesses and injuries foiling my previous attempts. Fingers crossed though; third time lucky is…well…lucky. From what I hear, this sheet of parchment is going to open up doors, windows, garages, everything…now if I could just get it to do my taxes and make me a cup of tea, I’d be all set. Yes, I understand that I need this qualification, it will be nice to have something beyond my high school education, and who doesn’t love learning, blah blah blah…I just wish that someone would hurry up and invent the Tardis so I can combine my two existences, easing the transition from UK to Canada. But alas, contrary to popular belief, Dr. Who is in fact fictional and I am forced to spend the next six months unsettled, uncomfortable, in constant fear of being the victim of knife crime and writing pretentious papers about pretentious authors I will never ever reference again and will forget about the instant I hit ‘print’. (This will be because of two things: apathy and alcohol intake. It’s not my fault the country runs on massive kegs submerged just below the Thames). FYI: If anyone has seen my optimism lying around anywhere, can you please return it ASAP. Thanks.


And so here I go again…suitcase packed, tears in my eyes, rain coat on, as I head to Pearson’s departure gates. Looking back through security at those staying behind always wrenches my gut and catapults me into ‘ugly cry face’ zone. I wipe my eyes (and often my nose), sniffling and snorting my way onto the airplane. I did this last year, this painful pull across the Atlantic and alas, the drama continues for six months more. Six months till I officially kiss London goodbye, thank her for the music (ABBA reference), and start my life in the True North Strong and Free. Thank you for a great summer, Canada! I will do you proud overseas and come back to the life you assured me I deserve and can have.


Phew. Deep breath….and we’re off…..


Watch out London; I’m back!!!


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