First Companions

Via Rail from Vancouver to Jasper

(PRE-DISCLAIMER: I wrote this when I boarded the train from Vancouver to Jasper and was trying to hold in my tears.)

(DISCLAIMER: I wrote this right when I boarded the train and only had a chance to post it now. I'm in Jasper at the moment, waiting for my Greyhound and the deli man was kind enough to give me the wi-fi password! "You promise not to tell anyone!" Careful, it's pretty damn long.)

Today is Monday, August 15th, 2011, 12:06 in the morning. I'm sitting in a train, hogging two seats. The blinds are half closed but when I spread myself on my side to sleep, I can peek out and see the silhouettes of passing geography. Natural sights comfortable of their skin, sitting in the dark. They make me work for their beauty, squinting my eyes to get a better sight of their sleeping figures, the unassuming curves of a mountain, the shimmer of unexpected water. The moon is full and I'm feeling a type of emptiness I haven't felt in a while.

I finished packing this afternoon and spent the rest of my day hanging out with the family. Rylie and I had a tickle fight and played hide and go seek. Phil came home and played The Graduation song by Vitamin C and I almost lost it. I said good bye to my home and my family. When we got to the station, I didn't shed any tears. I hugged them all but couldn't bare, most of all to hug little Rylie for too long. He wouldn't let me go. The train started boarding and I found a seat by the window. I haven't seen any beautiful sights yet but I've read your beautiful letters.

Sitting in a train, knowing that every single moment is decidedly working to inch me farther and farther away from home is one of the most painful things I could ever feel. I don't think I ever gave my mother any credit for being able to do it, let alone leave two of her children at home to go abroad to work. She did it three times: Kuwait, Hong Kong and Taiwan. She is a strong woman and I owe everything to her. It's funny cause I just got my BC ID card in the mail yesterday and it included a transplant donor application. I gave them permission to take any of my organs or tissue for transplant in the event of my death but I wanted to ask her first. It may seem strange, but I needed to ask her. She has some claim to me, she is the gardener with the green thumb and I wouldn't be this odd, growing creature without her nurturing. I owe every opportunity I have ever received and will get, all to her. The strong woman that worked hard and stayed strong all my life, just to get us to Canada. Now here I am. She is my role model.

My brothers who are my best friends in the world, I can never part with. Phil and I have a three year twin bond (we were born three years apart so technically we aren't twins). We've been together through every single move in our lives and I don't know what I would have done without his company. Every time we part, for example him for college, me for Vancouver, we know that there is no need to fret because we're boats in the same ocean and will at the end of the day, eventually be tied to the same dock. We always come back together.

Rylie on the other hand, my brother, my son, the best teacher I've ever had in my life I will miss dearly. Being present through out someone's life then all of a sudden leaving is like being part of a wonderful celebratory parade only to be abruptly pulled away from it. Rylie is the biggest, most spectacular parade I've ever been part of. It was quite lovely, there were elephants involved, Lego people, fried chicken, ice cream, brown sauce and a giant float of a bed.

We had our best times on my bed right before sleep, having tickle fights and telling stories. I remember how we would lay down before bed and he would ask me to tell him a story. So I would. I would tell him to give me a scenario which I would use to start the story. I made every single story up out of the top of my head and most of the plot lines and twists of the story I gauged on his reaction. The stories were strictly for him, concocted only to get a reaction from this tiny boy wonder. Now he does the same thing, telling stories, making jokes and being an all around smart ass. He's sarcastic and he doesn't even know what sarcasm is. He makes lego scenarios and draws them out. Every time he shows me, he would point out all the things that were happening, each character with a storyline and a purpose. His creativity baffles me. For example, I gave him some film canisters that I no longer needed. What did he proceed to do with them? Put a lego character in each and fill it with water. He then closed it and placed it in the freezer. When they came out, he claimed they were cryogenically frozen lego men. Brilliant eh? I'm really going to miss him. Every time I think of him and his goofy smiles and toothy grin and many dimpled face, I start to tear up.

Everyone in the train is asleep. The two french men beside me finally stopped gossiping. They probably weren't gossiping, I just couldn't understand what they were saying. Anyways, they're now both asleep. I can still make out figures outside in the dark. As a child I used to avoid looking out into the darkness. I was afraid there'd be someone staring back at me when I did. Now, I actually search for it and that fear is gone.

I had one of the best nights of my life last night. Being surrounded by people that mean the most to me, just drinking, talking and laughing. Being random and beating on a penis pinata. I don't think I've ever said this to you guys but I'm a lucky girl to have you all in my life. I try my best to surround myself with spectacular people. I remember how I always wanted to be part of a big group of friends, where everyone knew each other and dated each other. Now that sentiment just seems kinda faulty and somewhat incestuous. The type of friends that I keep, I've kept for a reason. The type of people who I can hang out with individually or with a group of people if need be. The type who can hold conversation, handle randomness and think corny and sometimes crude jokes are hilarious (it's all in the delivery). You all have good heads on your shoulders. We may not see each other frequently, going from weeks and sometimes months on end. Whenever we do, it's as if it was just yesterday we were hanging out (in the airport observatory, driving around late at night, bumping into each other in the bus, etc). We pick up our conversation right where we left off. This to me is one of the most beautiful types of human interaction I can have in my life. So thank you. Like I've been saying, I'll see you all again soon.

I know I haven't shown any emotions about my move but trust me, I'm feeling it just as much as you. I hate good byes, you all should know this by now. It makes me talk like this, as if I was on death row (I can't rap, sorry) and that everything was the end. But it's not. So do forgive me if I seemed insensitive when I was saying goodbye. I just know you'll all visit me in Montreal one time or another and I'll show you such a good time that you will all move there, the end! I'm still going to be the same Deann, just in a different place. Like P.Diddy constantly changing his name.

So I wish myself luck for my travels. I have enough coming from all of you so I should be good. I will close off this helluva huge Gone With the Wind style epic novel with this. One of my coworkers (not naming anybody but coughMatthew) asked me this "So what are you going to do if you fail in Quebec?" This question took me a back because nobody really asked me that. And I answered: "I plan on not failing." He persisted and asked what my back up plan was and I straight up told him, "I don't have a back up plan. I make plans for my future but they are flexible. I base my decisions on the opportunities I receive and what's right for me in that certain time in my life. If I fail and run out of money or can't learn french, then I'll go back to Vancouver. All I know is, I have a solid family and friends who will catch me, no questions asked and that's the only back up plan I'll ever need for any big risk I'll take in my life." Then I slapped him. I'm just kidding, I didn't but that would've been an epic way of ending things wouldn't it? Telenovella style!

Now for the Scooby-doo ending! I would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids! Anyway, thanks for all the love and support you've all selflessly given me. I try my best to be the most reliable and considerate person in all of your lives and I have a feeling that the way you have all been to me, all the kindness that I've felt shows that it has worked. So live your lives like I am, full of risk taking adventures, flightless expeditions and constant falling in love. Because life is great and so are you. Remember, you were all created from an explosion (astronomical or biological, you decide).

Thank you and good night.

And we're back!

I'm back. After a month of preparations, packing and traveling across Canada, I'm here in Montreal just like planned. I have my own place and I just ate the dinner I made; bacon covered steak with string beans and mushrooms with beer (La Fin Du Monde) to drink while watching Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Here goes another beginning!

Moments of grace come unexpectedly.

Good Morning

A little morning serenade for you, from Carina Round.

Carina Round | A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

It may be small but it is my anchor

It's funny how one little letter can have so much meaning. This is my new tattoo. The letter I in Times New Roman font. After years of trying to figure myself out, I realize how often I lose myself; to work, to school, to love. I need a reminder. This is it. This is my anchor.

Next year I'm going to move to Montreal. I'm going to live on my own and work hard at it. In high school I never had any goals. Now that I have them, the most difficult part is realizing that hard work is how you get it. This time is set aside for me. After focusing on my family and taking care of my almost eight-year old little brother since he was born, I finally have the chance to think about myself.

My mind is as taut as harp strings. I have fantasies of my future apartment that will smell like baked cookies. It will be full of plants and scattered paper. I can already picture myself sitting at a desk in front of a window, my hair messy with bags under my eyes from writing essays and short stories for school.

These fantasies are songs that play in my head. It keeps me going and I tap my fingers to their rhythm.

I feel most at home at night. There is a stillness that I want to capture, a mystery that I want to hide in. At night I can be anything, I can let go. The dark hugs me comfortably.

A new breath

Sitting on a desk in the 6th floor of the Vancouver Central Public Library, I'm supposed to be working on the third installation of my novella for Creative Writing class. But here I am, staring at the fantastic depth of field out my window created by the towering apartment buildings. Do you think whoever planned out the city thought about what it would look like at certain angles? Would he have sat back after making the blueprint and closed his eyes and imagined what the cityscape would look like from the 6th floor of the library, third desk from the escalators?

If you look at the view of the buildings in Brussels, you will see character. The city has gone through many phases and disasters. There was a fire that engulfed most of the wooden buildings and they found themselves having to rebuild.



Many people I spoke to found it ugly. I thought it was beautiful. I started to compare it to other cities. For example, Paris, will always be nonchalantly charming. But if these cities were people, I would choose Brussels as my friend. Brussels has gone through many things and is not afraid to hide it. Looking at the cityscape of the city would be looking at its past, its mistakes and accomplishments.

This is how I want to live my life. I am not afraid to show what I have done, even if it was stupid and full of mistakes and in turn will keep a modest outlook even on my accomplishments. I regret nothing and bare all. But even as I say this, I know I am still in the making. Even now, I can feel myself preparing for something bigger than this. Everything I am doing is merely preparation for the things I am capable of. I have to keep moving, I have to keep growing.

I just turned twenty-two and since then, I've felt like I have grown up so much. This has been one of the most difficult years of my life. Learning about yourself is a hard thing, especially when you're your own teacher. We're all just experiments most of the time. For me, it felt like being by myself was the control and being placed in my first relationship, let alone a long distance one was a variable. I couldn't understand myself unless I saw it in a different situation. I'm not saying that it takes a man for a woman to realize who she is. That's what I feared for the longest time. But I realized that gender has nothing to do with it. I'm used to all types of love but I have never experienced romantic love let alone from a best friend. I guess what I'm trying to articulate so poorly is that sometimes you just have to let your guard down and let someone else love you. Don't be selfish. Sometimes all you need is a companion.

Whoa. A pigeon just walked by the window sill and it terrified me because I thought it was a person. Remember how I said I was on the 6th floor?

Random Memory

I think I was about four years old. We were still in the Philippines then and we all slept beside each other on the floor. There would always be bugs every now and then, mosquitoes amongst other things but this particular time, I was bitten by a gigantic cockroach on the eye. It swelled up pretty big. That's pretty much all I remember.

Wandâfuru raifu (After Life)

What is the one memory you would take with you?



"At the time, I searched desperately inside myself for any memory of happiness. Now, fifty years later I've learned I was part of someone else's happiness. What a wonderful discovery. You too... someday will find this."



I watched this film Wandâfuru raifu (After Life) directed by Hirokazu Koreeda and it gets you thinking about your own life. The basic synopsis of this film: After people die, you stay in a place for a week, and you have to choose one memory in your life that you will live in for the rest of eternity. It does not matter what type of person you were in your previous life, whether good or bad, everybody ends up here. You have 3 days to choose and a small group of staff help you remember, then eventually recreate it into film to refresh your mind. Eternity follows.




This got me reminiscing and thinking about all the things i`ve done in my life. I cannot think of one specific memory I would love to live in for all eternity but if I was under the same pressure, it would certainly make a difference on my decision making. Instead of thinking hard enough for a memory that`s worth an eternity, all I keep thinking about now is my future, of all the opportunities I can have to make new memories. Get back to me 50 years from now and maybe then, I would be satisfied enough to make a clear decision.