Quesnel! The city of gold panning, lake living, fishing and (ugh) hunting. To the interior we go, to the place where the fruit is sofreakinggoodIcoulddie and the temperatures actually go above 25 degrees on the regular.
To the place where I may be able to actually get a tan, where we have a cabin only an hour and a half away, where I will have to adjust to winters with an average snowfall of 70cm.
Let’s just forget about the snow thing. I can’t think about it quite yet. I mean, yes, I did live in Saskatoon once, but that was when I was still young enough for snow to be fun. Snow is not fun when you have to drive your ’91 Pontiac Grand Am to the grocery store.
We have an apartment. Without giving away too much about where I’m living (because I know enough about the interwebz to be scared of you people), my address is the number of the devil. My mom is seriously concerned about this. I think it just bodes well for a summer of me RAISING HELL. Get it? Yeah you do! Let’s continue.
I always thought that shopping for my own home would be super fun. I read enough design blogs to get excited about decor and whatnot. I was fully prepared to coordinate my throw pillows and blankets and curtains in a not-too-matchy-yet-totally-goes-together kind of way. That was until I started actually shopping.
First of all, IKEA, wtf is with your EXPENSIVE BLANKETS. I am a blanket person. If I am on the couch, there is a blanket on me, even in the summer. I love being swathed in fabric at all times like I’m freaking Cleopatra. But hey, blankets, also known as rectangular/square pieces of fabric that should be super cheap, are super expensive! Especially at IKEA, where I expect things to be extra super cheap and chic to fit my extra super cheap and chic aesthetic.
Also, pots and pans. Holy buckets pots and pans are expensive. It doesn’t help that I’ve gotten used to using Jamie Oliver pans and cast iron skillets so beautifully seasoned it would make a pioneer cry. I am a kitchen snob, I admit. I shop pretty much exclusively at Gourmet Warehouse for my kitchen utensils and spices and tools. I cried when my microplane went missing in our last move. CRIED. So yeah, I’m picky. This, combined with an inherent cheapness I have developed from dating a Midgley, has made finding good yet inexpensive kitchen things a little stressful.
Luckily, we are pretty much done. I have an immersion blender, a handheld mixer, a gorgeous cast iron dutch oven and two (TWO!!!) beautifully seasoned cast iron pans from Colin’s mom. I will survive.
Just to complicate things, a few months ago I booked a trip to Ohio, which would commence the day after my last exam. At the time, I figured we would be ending up in Tofino again, so I planned the trip for three weeks. I did this because I knew it would be my last chance to spend an extended amount of time with my grandma, and honestly, I knew I would need it. Three weeks in Ohio is the only thing that has gotten me through this semester.
Unfortunately, my selfish vacation time has overlapped with our move. Yup, that’s right, I won’t be here for the big moving day. I will be in Ohio, probably eating something fried like chicken but isn’t actually chicken. I am abandoning my life partner in his time of need, forcing him to lift heavy boxes (but not too heavy, my concussion companion is still fragile). He will have to fend for himself for nearly three weeks in a new town, start his shiny new job without the loving, caring support of his better (looking) half.
Oh, what’s that? Diablo 3 is being released while I’m gone? Yeah, he’s gonna be fine.