The Return

Recently, my blog has closely resembled Traveler's Weekly, with melodramatic experiences of my voyages, which I'm sure meant very little to my imaginary audience.

Fortunately and unfortunately, I'm returning to my normal mold for blogs: thoughts waxing half-hearted philisophical, and the mundane, dreary life of an overachiever.

For the benefit of my friends (Ellen, this means you), I decided to profile some of the dumbest things I've ever said, that turned out to be inadvertantly humourous.

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Did you know?: Shad valley is a program for students across Canada.

On the first day of Shad, things were more then a little awkward. Without my twin there to talk to, I was falling into the well-accepted mold of the Loner- people are wont to give this person a generous 3 metre radius. As such, I was more then a little eager to talk to someone, anyone.

"Where are you from?"

I looked up , delirious with glee that someone had addressed a question to me.

"I'm from Canada."


Apparantly, I didn't learn from my lesson from the muffled giggle of the person who had asked me the question. A few days later,

"I'm from Quebec, " the guy from quebec said to me, extending a hand.

"Oh," I replied, "I'm from Canada"

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I'm back home, and after my excursions across the globe, forced to settle into something of a regular routine.

I have a job.

This is a startlingly unfamiliar setting for someone who is accustomed to voluntary efforts. It feels weird to be actually accountable for something- because when you're being paid for something, you had better be doing a good job.

Volunteering is accompanied by that sense of self-satisfaction; working makes me feel like a selfish, corporate-pig (did I mention I work in a cubicle?). Perhaps it's my usual self-deprecation kicking in.

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I'm glad to be home.