can you see the lions today?

I was driving over the lions gate bridge today realizing that there are days where I truly feel like a west coast gal. The clouds were perched on the mountaintops and the blues and greens of the sky and trees were vibrant. The whitecaps were surfacing on the inlet below the bridge deck. It was simply beautiful.

Over the last week I've managed to do a ton of what I wanted in Vancouver. A better time to catch up with the city than at Christmas, that's for sure. Yesterday I went down to Pender and Carrall to Erin Templeton's bag shop. She's a talented local bag and belt designer (also making strappy sandals too) and her stuff is carried in cool boutiques across the country. I wanted to take the time to go to her shop though, and as it happened, she was in the back, making bags as we browsed. She's a friendly, open and kooky lady, but one that is super passionate about what she does. I did leave with a belt and a bag and I'll be promoting her wares to everyone I see. One of a kind for sure.

I've visited little stores on main street, had coffee at delany's in edgemont village, ate berry crumble on granville island, attended a live radio taping at cbc radio and spent much time in yaletown with my friends who live on false creek. I've been a yuppie for a day and sampled Urban Fare's yummies, and seen bands play at The Penthouse. I've jazzed at Rossini's and taken the bus, seabus and skytrain. I've seen the Junos at GM Place, been to the Commodore on Granville Street and had dinner at the Terminal City Club. I business lunched with a friend and colleague at Earl's near Lougheed Highway and went as support for my friend's wedding dress fitting in middle-of-nowhere Surrey. We passed Cloverdale rodeo on the way and I reminisced about our trips there to the wierdo french festival. Tomorrow I'll be on the sea to sky highway going up to Whistler and will summit the peaks.

And all this to say that no matter how long I'm away, or how comfortable I feel in Toronto, this blue and green city still gets to me. It's totally nostalgic and I always feel like life isn't hitting reality when I'm here. Bizarre.

Douglas Coupland seemed to hit on this concept when he said this: "believe that you've had most of your important memories by the time you're thirty. After that, memory becomes water overflowing into an already full cup. New experiences just don't register in the same way or with the same impact. I could be shooting heroin with the Princess of Wales, naked in a crashing jet, and the experience still couldn't compare to the time the cops chased us after we threw the Taylors' patio furniture into their pool in eleventh grade."

With that advice in mind, I may just try and jam a few more things in before my thirtieth year hits me this October. Watch out world, here I come. You have Douglas to blame.