Sometimes (like today) I’m a Fake Haligonian

The Halifax adventure continues, but I’ll admit it: I think the novelty of my being around is wearing off.

Truthfully, I’m so at home here, that sometimes it’s hard for me to fathom that I don’t ACTUALLY live here. Giving myself enough time to kick around like a local was probably a good idea on that front. Rather than scurrying frantically to try and squeeze in all my visits, I’ve been able to spread them out and linger a little longer.

I’ve been house/cat-sitting for a friend while I’ve been here, and I’ve borrowed a bike/helmet (it’s the law that even grown-ups have to wear helmets in Nova Scotia)–all of which have kinda tricked me even more profoundly into feeling like a local. In fact, more than a few people have passed me on the street with a casual wave and a ‘hey, Mer!’, making me think that a faction of the city doesn’t actually realize that I’ve de-camped to Kingston. Heck – Maritime winters are long. They probably figured I’ve just been waiting it out indoors.

And again, lest anyone think it’s been nothing but fun and games, I’ve been diligently doing a little work every day. I’ve spent enough time at one of the Dalhousie libraries that I now get nods of familiarity from the people behind the reference desk. I’ve been taking up afternoon residence at one or another cafes in town, where I’ve been pounding away at my little laptop. And, most significantly, I’ve been having some great chats with great people here in regards to my thesis project — a personal documentary still in it’s infancy in my mind. Halifax is a hotbed for clever, creative people who do things like make films. And luckily for me, many of them have been more-than-keen to lend a hand in the brainstorming.

I head back to Kingston on Monday. I’ll be taking the train again — a crazy, 24 hour trip that won’t see me getting home til the middle of the day on Tuesday. I have to say, that one of the best things about train travel is the feeling of being cocooned with yourself and your thoughts. In a way, I love the train because there’s nothing I can really DO while riding on it, except to look out the window, read, daydream and doze.

Seriously… grad school life really can be luxurious sometimes, no?

(I was in Cape Breton on the weekend — so here’s a photo to liven up this disastrously word-heavy blog):


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