Dispatches from Calgary #2

mru gets outside!

Hello and welcome to my attempt at staying consistent with writing!

There is an irrational fear in me of growing old and forgetting what it was like to be young mru. I think it started with watching The Notebook (if you’re a bird, i’m a bird) but it really stuck on after my grandfather was diagnosed with dementia.
Do you fear the same? Or is young mru just overthinking about turning 30?
Let me know :)

In other news, I successfully forced myself to get out of the city over the weekend. Yay, somebody give me a medal. Man, I miss medals. Adulthood has surprisingly less shiny medals and award ceremonies. I digress..

Moving to Calgary has been an experience inundated with deja vus. I’m rarely in the present.
I’m 21yrs old, hopeful, starry eyed, moving countries for the very first time not knowing the concept of shower curtains. I’m in awe of daisies and pine cones, I look at trees almost kissing the sky and exclaim “it’s just like in the movies! ” (Twilight).
Then suddenly, I’m 23, in a desert studded with magnified cacti, heartbroken and feeling the most alive at the same time.
I’m also 25, with red hot chilli peppers on the radio singing “if you want these dreams, it’s californicaaaationn”.

Ah, the sweet taste of retrospect.

However, I also realize that one must live outside one’s head. Its a big beautiful world out here, I must get out once in a while. I must stay 29 years old, so I can write dispatch #123 poetically recollecting what it means to be an adult, armed with the knowledge of what a good shower curtain is, living in a new city, this time entirely on my own.

I’m happy to report, I did get outside this weekend. I drove out to the wilderness, this time exclaiming “it's just like on instagram!” (thank you for your service, travel bloggers).

I fully took advantage of the feminine urge to hike up a hill, huffing and puffing and all sweaty only to drink some warm watermelon oolong tea with some biscuits and jam. Could I have done this at home? yes. But where’s the fun in that?

I posted a picture of myself at the top of the hill with a caption “I was dying but briefly I was happy” and I think I accidentally wrote my memoir.

I was dying but briefly I was happy.

See you in the next one!

Love,
Mru