A fub visit

I left Tofino on a bus for Williams Lake on a tuesday at 10am. Equipped with a laptop bag stuffed as full as it could possibly be stuffed. One thing I had forgotten, as per usual, was a book. I remedied this on the ferry by indulging in a Dwell magazine. Flipping through it while sipping my coffee took up most of the ride. In Vancouver, Laura met me at the bus depot to grab some eats. I had a 3 hour window. She mercilessly forced me to decide what we were going to have - Labee is not understanding to the indecisive, food-option-deprived. I'm sorry but this must be said. Mongolian grill was settled on. Labee and I both decided on the 'hot and sweet' sauce option, although we both erred from the chart - adding both garlic and sesame oil. The result was tasty, with a warm sweet heat. I am a fan of mongolian grill. I just want to point out that that was only my 3rd time ever EATING mongolian grill. I feel, as a person who loves adventurous food, a little cheated in life.

19 hours from the time I departed, I arrived at the familiar depot in Williams Lake. It was 5:10am. I'd slept the entire way, and was shocked into giddiness when I was woken abruptly to the bus driver's voice declaring, "Welcome to Williams Lake!". I grabbed my bag and jostled my way off the bus, and walked with enthusiasm to Bethany and Ben's car. Only it wasn't their car, as I surmised when I was close enough to note a rotund face with glasses peering nervously at me out the window. Smoothly I changed direction mid-step, as if I'd only been stretching my legs.

They picked me up a few minutes later, huddled against the front of the depot building in the freezing caribou air. Once at Gail's, Bethany directed a slightly gruff and tired Ben to make my bed up for me, which I gratefully stretched out on. Sleeping lying down is a luxury after making do with a bus seat.

I woke up some hours later and ravaged the breakfast that'd been left in the frying pan for me. Bethany had a doctor's appointment that morning, so we all went together, and then fub and I went shopping for dinner while Ben and Owen got hair cuts. We took some time deciding what to have for dinner - obviously everything that Bethany mentioned as an option was something I wanted - but we finally decided on a stir-fry with chicken, sausage, and prawns. And bok choy…and mushrooms..and bell peppers…in case you were wondering. We had a cozy Christmas-themed night, nested out in Bethany and Ben's bed watching "White Christmas" and "The Family Stone" while painting our nails . Fub and I agreed that Christmas cheer had been accomplished.

That night, I kept going in and out of consciousness, dimly aware of an uneasiness in my stomach that wasn't going away. When I woke up that morning and it was still there, fear began to set in. No! No I couldn't be sick! That just couldn't HAPPEN to me. But there was no denying it. My mind flashed back to when I'd eaten Mongolian grill with Labee. "Last time I had mongolian grill," I'd told her blithely, "I got sick the day after". …what, was that just too tempting for fate to leave alone?! but I knew it wasn't the mongolian grill. Shawn's roommate had been sick with the flu when I'd left.
It wasn't TOO bad though. I kept myself from ralphing, afraid that if I did I would be rendered helpless on a bed (ever since the infamous food-poisening incident in Encinitas, I have lost my casual 'tude towards ralphing). As it was, I could walk around - albeit in a cold sweat, and uttering zombie-like groans. A kind-hearted fub-and-benman bought me some non-sleepy gravol so that we could all go out that night and watch the new Hunger Games. The movie distracted me, and half-way through I noted that the gravol had kicked in and I felt much better. Thank the Lord for gravol.

Despite having the flu, it was still a fun day. I helped Bethany and another lady decorate for the talent show that was being held at the Church that Friday, stringing up silver stars and helping decide where the huge fluffy paper flowers 'fub had made should go. In between, I gorged my musical self on the sublimity of playing a grand piano, and curled up into a fetal ball on various parts of the floor (groaning dramatically). I was so wiped after that experience though, that I fell asleep on fub-and-benman's fluffy bed for 3 and a half hours, and could easily have slept through the night. While I was sleeping, everyone ate chicken. fub-and-benman always eat chicken. I think people should know.

There were other fun parts of the visit - going book shopping, searching for little retro christmassy figurines (for a home-made advent calendar we were thinking of making), going to the little cafe every morning (I rather forced a fub to come with me for my morning coffee. It's a tradition now, and traditions must be upheld. Just watch "the fiddler on the roof"). It was short visit. Much too short. The day after the flu day I had to catch a bus at 1 in the afternoon. I have a hate/love relationship with the Williams Lake bus depot. When I arrive, it's just a lovely sight. When I'm leaving, it's a dreary and hateful place. I always leave Williams Lake, which has a fub in it, with a heavy heart. At least (for once) the bus was quite empty and I had a good choice of seats. I ended up behind a very friendly - jolly, actually - old man in a turquoise turban, who chatted with me for a little bit. I defied my own past experience with reading on a bus (usually makes me sick) by reading the book Bethany had bought me almost the entire way. "sushi for beginners". It was dark almost for the entire ride, and we pulled into Vancouver at 9pm. As per instructions from Jordinian, I rode the sky train into Surrey, where he picked me up. I was surprised to see his kids still up and waiting for me. Apparently they were excited to see me! My nieces and nephews notice me?? This I find surprising - and guilt-inducing, since I am HOPELESS at engaging the little ones. When it comes to a shy-battle with kids and me, it's almost always a stand-off tie. However, they bounced around showing me their Christmas projects, and acquainting me with some stuffed animals (and their stories). I was shocked and pleased to note that Gert the rat was still alive and well. You know, Gert? The stuffed rat of fame? The one dad would make a voice for during family prayer times (I would be groaning and trying not to laugh). Jordan informed me that he'd saved it from drowning on Even and Esther's driveway. Anyway, it was a really nice visit and I found myself being glad and grateful for the circumstances that had led me to stay there.

Even if Jordan's alarm clock malfunctioned the next morning and I had to get ready at neck-break speed to catch the sky train, which is what happened. It was no biggie. Tracy got me to the station with time to spare, it turned out. When the bus pulled out of the depot, it was just starting to get light. I stared out the window kind of rapturously, taking in the unfamiliar yet beautiful sight of Vancouver at dawn. The glass-covered high-rises reflecting the pale periwinkle sky and wisps of cloud. The grand old buildings and the grand old trees all mixed up with the more colourful, edgy, graffiti'd ones. The city waking up. There's something about Vancouver which stimulates and inspires me. Probably has something to do with the extreme change in environment from what I'm used to.

I rolled into Tofino at 2:40 in the afternoon. Shawn was there, waiting for me beside his truck, and I may or may not have jumped onto him and latched on like a koala. He may or may not have had to gently un-velcro me from his person. We drank wine and ate some Wildside (pulled pork poutine for me - followed by gravol - and the blue cheese buffalo chicken burger for fubman) and talked most of the night. The pain of leaving a fub is soothed by the joy of coming home to a fubman.