So, it was my last full day in Canada, and in Vancouver they have all of these beautiful bike paths running through the city. My parents brought three bikes and decided that, before I left, we needed to go on a biking adventure to this pier and market thing, which was fine by me because as the oldest of 4 you don't get a lot of one-on-one parent time because a)your parents are too busy running after your six year old little sister and b)I am technically an adult now and don't need constant supervision and c) my siblings are all younger and, therefore, WAY cuter than I am so I totally get it.
Anyway, so we walk down to the lobby and get our bikes and at this point I was stressing because I stress about everything. Oh, and I hadn't even touched a bike in, like, 8 years. That's almost a decade, people.
I voiced this concern and then my dad was like "umm have you ever heard the phrase 'it's like riding a bike'? of course you will be able to pick it up again, that's how this works" but apparently he hasn't ever seen me ride a bike, because even when I was "good" at riding a bike, I wasn't actually "good" at riding a bike. I could get up on the bike and sort of balance, but I freaked out everytime there was even a little bump in the road and I couldn't pedal uphill because I feel pretty heavy when I am trying to get my body weight up a hill on a foot-operated, more annoying version of a car (side note: looking back, the fear of bumps was actually quite rational because at the time I lived in a really desert-y area with lots and lots of cholla cacti. So if you fell off due to a bump you were gonna get stabbed. And those suckas HURT. boom. irrational fear, justified.) Anyway, so I get on the bike thinking it would be easy like dad said, WHICH IT WASN'T, and then we figured out that the phrase "it's like riding a bike" literally applies to every person on the planet except me which isn't surprising to me at all because I struggle in that whole being-an-average-person area.
But, anyway, we start our bikeride and the view was amazing. The bikes went through parks and gardens and awesome city areas by the water and the pier was amazing and great. The market atmosphere is awesome and the view of the boats on the water was so cool.
So then after having all this fun it's time to bike back. I was trying to stall and avoid it because I knew a lot of it would be uphill. And if any of you have heard of my adventures in weights class this last year, you know I'm a huge wimp. I was legitimately worried about passing out from exhaustion whislt trying to bike uphill and then ceasing to exist or something. It was very scary. But, finally we HAD to head back so I reluctantly followed.
It was mostly uphill, and, while it WAS beautiful, it was freaking hard to get up those hills. I don't think my legs have ever hurt that bad before. And it was starting to get hot. So, after I kind of gave up and threw a dramatic fit, and decided I was done with life and I would just curl up in a ball and die there, because biking SUCKS. So then my dad was forced to bribe me with something, and he claimed that if I just made it over the hill and down the street, there would be a 7/11 and we could get slurpees. That was reason enough to stop throwing a fit and just push through, so I biked all the way there like a freaking champ and we got our slurpees.
Slurpees are special. This is a topic my family has pondered and researched for quite some time, and we've decided all slushie-like drinks fall into two categories. Category one is the run-of-the-mill, sugary, watery slushie things that are common at most gas stations. QT and Circle K fall in these categories. Their slushies/freezonis/whatever you want to call them are really icey and syrupy, and after a while they harden into an un-drinkable ice cube floating in dyed sugar water. While these types of slushies are okay, they are really nothing special and usually the flavors they offer totally suck. But the sad part is that these are really, really common. And they are merely tolerable. And usually just taste gross after you're halfway done. Category two in the slushie drink world is completely different. These drinks are your ICEE and slurpee drinks. They dont just dump some flavoring into some ice and call it a delicious frozen treat. No. These are made differently. They have some sort of carbonation added so theyre more light and airy than the inferior type. When you dispense them into the cup they inflate and spill all over you. It's part of the fun. And they usually come with one of those awesome spoon-straws so you can enjoy the whole thing all the way till the end, because you'll actually want to consume stuff at the bottom of these bad boys because it's actually edible and delicious. They cost a little more typically, but you get what you pay for- total frozen awesomeness.
So anyway, we're at the 7/11 (one of the lone places where you can still get the delicious types of slushie, along with random ones like some Burger Kings (con: limited flavor options and super expensive), the occasional circle k, and some targets (even more expensive)) getting our hard-earned slushies. I got the cream soda flavor, which was fantastic because I hate fruit-flavored frozen treats in general (soda flavors for the win), AND it was FUSCHIA. Happy, bright fuschia. Basically this stuff was pure joy.
So I get my big-ol' 42 ounce (Canada is weird about sizes), neon pink slushie and me and dad and mom sit and watch hobos (including one old guy wearing sunglasses with marijuana leaves painted on them- what a straight up gangster) and asians and the other residents of Vancouver walk by and we drank our slurpees and chatted and life was good.
For those of you who have never eaten around me, you should know that I am probably the world's slowest eater. I could probably go into Guiness book of world records for it. I think turtles probably eat faster than I do. And snails. And old people.
But anyway, I am ESPECIALLY slow when it comes to frozen stuff. I am easily prone to brain freezes and I don't like subjecting my brain to that kind of abuse after all it's done for me. So I eat slowly and carefully and enjoy the treat I got. Haters get upset with me for it, but they're haters so this is expected.
So I'm drinking my slushie and dad is like 3/4 of the way done with his and I'm like halfway. Maybe. Okay, more like 1/3. So dad decides it's probably time to head back and we took our slushies and started walking our bikes back.
Things were all fine and dandy until we got to the final stretch of the walk home- like a million flights of stairs. WITH A BIKE. AND A SLURPEE. But my dad didn't seem to mind and just started trekking down the steps like it was no biggie. I shrugged and followed, telling myself that if I could make it through the valley of death (aka like 5 minutes of slightly uphill biking in perfect weather) I could get down these stupid stairs. So I follow them and it's all good and then ON THE LAST LANDING BEFORE THE END MY SLURPEE SLIPPED OUT OF MY HAND AND EXPLODED ON THE SIDEWALK IN FRONT OF ME.
I kind of just sat there for a second and stared at the neon pink all over the sidewalk. It was legitimately heartbreaking. And, to make matters worse, there was a large group of canadian elderly taking a nice stroll, probably to go get delicious slurpees, and they saw the whole thing. There was a collective sound they made that was the sound of "awwwww, poor widdle girl dwopped her swurpee on the gwound" and that just made things worse and now I REALLY wanted to cry. My first instinct was to pick it up and throw the cup away atleast, because apparently I was turning into a hippie and Vancouver was wearing off on me. So I grab it and one of the old people was like "I don't think that's save-able little girl" or something along those lines but I just ignored her and said "i'll go throw this away" when really I shoud've probably thrown it at them and ran away crying. But anyway, I made the sad walk down the final, shortest flight of stairs and bid farewell to my delicious, only halfway finished, neon cream soda slurpee. My mom told me I should take a final sip but the damage had been done and I just needed to say goodbye. I threw it in the trash and picked up my bike like a freaking champ and began the sad, long walk back home. My mom asked if I was okay and I just said "I really want to cry right now for some reason." probably because I'm emotionally unstable. And also because here I am, technically an adult, out in the big bad world with my slurpee that I worked so hard for and it was cruelly taken from me prematurely. And when I dropped it I felt like a little kid, powerless while everyone pitied them and talked about that "poor little girl who dropped her slurpee at those stair things" for the rest of the day. Seriously, I'm not joking you guys, it was TRAUMATIZING. Terrible. A sad end to a fantastic day. But, whatever, I guess it was character building. Like, the universe saying WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD, PUNK.
Rest in Peace, delicious cream soda Slurpee.
July 10, 2013- July 10, 2013.
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