So, after 20 hours on the road we made our way to the Great White North. I’m actually not sure if that’s what you call Canada . . . I haven’t exactly been doing much research on this country or the new city I have to call home. This is very unlike me, seeing as I’m an obsessive planner and usually do tons of research before visiting a new place. I’ve usually got a million restaurants picked out, along with countless lists of local attractions and fun things to try off the beaten path.
Not this time.
I’m a reluctant temporary resident of Canada. California born and raised. After some years in New England and New York, I made the decision to move back home and did not regret it. I was made for sunny days, not snow and rain. I like tacos and date shakes and SoCal beaches and palm trees. Yes, these are all cliches, but I’m finding that leaving a place makes you cling to those sorts of things.
Until last month, I didn’t know anything about Canada beyond Anne of Green Gables, poutine, and Degrassi. I just realized there are provinces north of British Columbia. I don’t know a soul here aside from my husband and our basenji mix cuddle pup. I have a work permit, but no work to do at the moment.
So that’s where this blog fits in. In an attempt to stop myself from wallowing in the sadness that comes with major change (shocker: I am not one of those people who handles it well), I’m going to try to use this as a space to chronicle the ups and downs of life 1200 miles north of home. Maybe even offer a little advice to those who find themselves in a similar situation. I may also throw in some restaurant reviews because I plan on eating my feelings during this adjustment period.
Pass the ketchup chips.