"Does hanging yourself mean letting your neck make out with a noose?"
--whatsername

Warning: THIS IS NOTHING BUT MUSINGS. Unless you want to feel like some psychiatrist listening to a patient's rambles about her past, ignore.

It was early that morning. Was waiting in the airport, pockets heavy with peso coins. The urge to call her friends saying final farewells came every now and then. No longer remembers if the calls did happen.
First plane. Watched Nemo and other movies before drifted off to sleep. Tasted real tiramisu for the first time because hey, she and her family WERE going to Japan... for three hours. There though, came trouble. Carry-ons were taken and due to misunderstandings, the family was told they were to pay $300 to get them back. The father resorted to scare tactics and threatened to sue. It worked-- soon, they were off again to the next plane. They never forgot what the kind flight attendant said when she helped them sort out the problem; "I care for you".
Second plane. First taste to Canadian culinary blandess. Sleep finally came. Fuzzy Woozy plushie stayed nearby all throughout the entire trip
Flight touchdown. Never got excited for snow... realized weather was underestimate as everyone was wearing Bagiou jackets (meant for up to 10C only). Wind blasts, -35C, blizzards.

Welcome to Canada.

That is my memory of our travel away from the Philippines. A few days later, there was a week when the entire branch of the family clan was away from the motherland (from paternal grandmother to our cousins from father side).

Today is our "anniversary", January 19.

I also remember the first time we came to this city. Sleeping on the floor of the empty apartment, listening to the snow-filled wind howl outside. The word to describe me that night would be Giddy. "Hihihi, I can't wait to see how bad I'll fail here. How long before depression hits upon the realization that we'll never return?" Even then, I already was negative about myself.

First two years were bad for the family. Both parents were unemployed and though they had college/uni degrees, there came the first obstacle--Canadian experience. "To get a job, you need experience in Canada. To get Canadian experience, you need a job." They found jobs needing manual labour. The father was the first to get an office job-- leaving the mother depressed. She lost so much weight it was alarming.

The apartment itself was horrible. Just a few weeks after settling in the city, our apartment room was robbed, taking our show money-- large amount of cash that got us into the country in the first place. Let's just say it was enough to buy a new car... and keep us financially stable for a few years. Mental breakdown was near for a parent. I don't know until now how they got in. Was the door left open by accident? How did they know where to look? Was it someone else who had the keys... who knew we were immigrants? Sometimes, until now, I have the fear that it was I who left it open. Then there were the drugs. Sheltered, I never knew how they smelled like. Always thought that faint stentch was that of someone's cooking ("Canada DOES have a diverse culture"). I hated it but what can one do? Open-mindedness and all that jazz. We were used to seeing the cops/firemen/paramedics-- so many false alarms and accidents. So months later, the cops who came to our floor level we thought were just checking on another false alarm. We soon found out it was a drug bust. By then, we really wanted to change apartments but once again, money played an important role.

Fastforward to now. New apartment, everyone is very nice. It used to be meant only for seniors and retirees but they now accept younger people who fit their standards. I've relearned polite manners because of the residents. We're coping now, everything was better than before. I've heard that the apartment we used to live in has changed managerial hands (???English bad) and that it has become a good place to stay once more.

January 19. In other words, we've been stuck in the Great White North for three years now. Survived another year with each other isolated from the extended family! A toast to all who wish to celebrate with me and a tiramisu to all who have read all of this without thinking "Wow, she talks too much."

In other news, I had to walk on snow/ice with a few flakes for most of the week going to and from school. We've finished our website project and I felt so useless as I knew near to nil on html/dreamweaver/making a good flash intro. Two of our groupmates did most of the work... so much guilt in me. Oh, and I finally found a modern music group that I would love to listen to-- th... ]]> *aiyana-0 http://aiyana-0.deviantart.com/journal/11446923/ http://aiyana-0.deviantart.com/journal/11446923/ Mon, 15 Jan 2007 11:45:46 PST

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I find it funny that the squirrel song is the odd one out.