It’s the little things

>I’ve got a couple of fairly major things to be pleased about at the moment.

My job is going well and I have to say I’m enjoying it. I’ve been with Gumtree for 5 weeks now and I’m still happy. This is a new record, methinks.

Tomorrow I depart from Aurghville, never to return. I must, at this conjecture, allow myself the pleasure of a dignified wooting. Woot.

Seriously though, I can’t wait. You know your living situation has been bad when your move has so many perks (nicer location, much better flatmate, more space, shorter commute, no poop on the walls) and you are most excited about being able to put freaking food in the freaking fridge.

And still it is the little things that make me most ridiculously giddy about life in general. Like yesterday.

Yesterday work wasn’t all that exciting – I’m at the clean-up/wrap-up point of a few things and it is at the stage where I’m just chasing other people for the final pieces. But I got to leave 30 minutes early so I could make it to a shop in Covent Garden before it closed at 6:30.

London transit tried to make me late, but I was there by 6:20. Good thing, because it was the only shop selling what I was looking for. How exciting to find a shop in London that sells Canadian food (and beers – hoozah!) In addition to what I actually went in there for, I also bought ketchup chips. Mmmm… ketchup chips.

I walked up the Strand to my bus stop in Aldwych to catch my bus. Now I was no longer in a rush. The evening was gorgeous… blue skies and warm but not hot. The sunlight was golden and I was more than happy to wait for the bus which was not long in coming.

I always sit on the second deck of the bus if I can. I know I’ve been in London for almost two years and the double-deckers are ubiquitous. But I still get a real kick at sitting at the top at the front. You get a very different view of the city when you are sitting up there.

So, there I am, sitting in the front top-left seat of the 243. Cruising through the boroughs of London. Enjoying the quality of the light of the evening sun. And I reach into my bag o’ goods and pull out a bag of ketchup chips.

Ketchup chips are hard to explain to non-Canadians. I didn’t realise until I got to Korea that they were even a Canadian thing. How sad that the rest of the world hasn’t had the pleasure of staining their fingers a violent red whilst eating potato chips coated in simulated ketchup-ish flavoured powder goodness.

Now, the bag I had was Lays, which isn’t the best ketchup chip. Everyone knows that Old Dutch make the best ketchup chips, but hey! I wasn’t going to be choosy. I had a bag of ketchup chips. In London.

I’m not sure exactly what makes them my favourite flavour; certainly not everyone (read: careybatgirl) likes them. Some people (again, read: careybatgirl) think that they are kind of sick. They are kind of a weird flavour and only taste of ketchup in the wildest realms of the imagination. I love ’em.

I think it may have to do with the memories I have tied up with them. My moms was one of these “good parents” who wouldn’t let her kids gorge themselves on crap food all the time. She made us eat fruit and veggies and stuff. How cruel! However, when we went camping… all bets were off. Out came the mini-boxes of crap cereal which we were allowed to wash down with cream soda or root beer. We roasted marshmallows. We walked around in our bathing suits (which we were also allowed to sleep in – glorious!) clutching a bag of Old Dutch ketchup chips and covered in red chip flavouring, spilled soda pop, sunscreen and bug spray.

I loved camping with my moms and not just because the rules were relaxed. She always worked so hard but we never had a lot of spare money. Even so, she took us camping a lot. She believed that experiences in life are more important than things. And you know what? She’s right. Inadvertently I think those childhood camping trips may be responsible for all the traveling I’ve done as an adult. Because she was right then and she’s right now: experiences are worth far more than any possession.

Back to London, the bus, and my bag o’ memory-inducing ketchup chips. As I was sitting there enjoying all three last night I had a moment of pure happiness and couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. It didn’t last long… it is public transit in England, after all. But for that moment I was happy to be who I was and where I was. Which was all kinds of awesome. I’m going to try and hang onto that thought for a little while.

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2 responses to “It’s the little things

  1. >I have a confession to make… although I think that ketchup chips are a plague on the junk food industry, it is true, when you go camping, you must have ketchup chips and cream soda, it is just a given. Now I haven't gone camping in about 12 years, so I have been ketchup chip sober for quite a while, but if I was to ever go camping again, those rancid chips would be involved. Barf. Maybe that is why I don't go camping anymore.

  2. >Will you finally get to chill (slightly) and drink (delightedly) the beer I sent for your birthday?Also, can we go to the Canadian store when I come visit?Also also, I liked this post!

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