choose your own adventure

After another weekend chock-full of activities I've begun to fear that my current strategy for socialization is not unlike that of a spare tire. It is not unlike that of a third or fifth wheel. I am worried that I have become a social parasite, latching on to a host and not letting go.

I know that I'm probably being overly dramatic, but these are the thoughts that fly through my brain, particularly when I'm the odd person out. It's a definite adjustment. I'm no longer part of a unit and I just need to get used to that. I think I can cope with this new reality as long as weekends continue to be as busy as they have been. So far my friends have not told me that they've seen too much of me and continue to allow me to trespass on their company. I shouldn't be so self-deprecating. I'm not a wallflower. I contribute something special to the lives of others and people want to spend time with me. At least that's what I hope is true. I'm finding it difficult to believe any self-esteem boosting attempts this evening.

The highlight of my weekend was the photo excursion Wade and I took through the Highlands neighbourhood. Without a car I hadn't really taken to exploring random areas of the city, unless they were easy to walk to or had good transit links. So, this neighbourhood was completely new to me. We had gone off in search of some pedestrian bridge by Wayne Gretzky Drive and fortuitously ended up along a winding boulevard that overlooked the river valley. Despite being an ardent pedestrian, there's something I love about driving through mature neighbourhoods, especially ones that I've never visited before. When the experience is brand new, I can overlook the lack of rapid transit connections, or the proximity to a grocery store. Instead I can let myself settle into a sort of story-book trance and just admire the rows of pretty houses. Wade and I had no idea where we were going. We were content with oohing and aahing at all the places we could never afford and would never live in because they are neighbourhoods where your day-to-day connection to the rest of the city is entirely dependent on a car. And I certainly don't want that. But I can still appreciate a nice house when I see one.

We stopped to take photos in a couple places. First at Rundle Park, where we wandered down over what we assumed was a disc-golf course, across the pedestrian bridge and along a path by the river. Although the park was highly manicured, I still felt separate from the rest of the city. I felt a bit like a nature junkie. It was all so terribly cliche and wonderful at the same time. Taking photos was an excuse to be outside, but I would have been happy just going for a walk and admiring the flowers on the trees. However, true to photo excursion form I was not wearing appropriate footwear for any sort of real adventureous strolling. The park has been put on the list of places to return. For this will be a summer of park-hopping (I just hope that I won't always be a fifth wheel). After our brief stroll through Rundle we tried to retrace our steps to find Concordia University-College, which we had driven past earlier and I had expressed my desire to stop and take photos of a particularly impressive tree that was in full flower.


Of course Wade and I couldn't really remember how we got to Rundle Park, but thanks to the wonders of the iPhone we managed to orient ourselves (I can't wait to get my iPhone once the new one is released). We arrived at the tiny campus just as the sun was starting to disappear behind the building.


I took my favourite shot of the night at Concordia, of this rather impressive tree (or was it three?) with a trunk that twisted off into three different directions. I can't tell you how much I love that tree. It was exactly the type of tree that I wish I could have in my yard. It even had an easy to reach little crook where a person could climb into and nestle in with a good book.

I hope my summer is full of more evenings like this one.