Given what Calgary is dealing with, I feel like it would be highly disrespectful and insensitive to comment on the rain in Vancouver at this time. Seriously, it’s insignificant. Still, the prevalence of summer puddles and general dampness in town has resulted in a reversion to a level of warm beverage consumption that befits November. And, since coffee constitutes an important part of many people’s daily routine, I thought this would be a good time to share some thoughts on the matter with my Top 10 recommendations for java joints in Vancouver. Needless to say, the coffee at all of these places is top notch. However, I’ve separated the best of the best into categories, depending on mood and situation. (I’ve been to all of the following cafés at least five times over the course of the last year(ish), and typically order an Americano misto, so it’s more or less a controlled experiment.)
I know it’s been a couple weeks (I’m beginning to sense a trend), but it’s taken me this long to get over the incident. Still, I’ve heard that, for many, writing things down and expressing one’s feelings is often very cathartic. Alas, this won’t be a very long or remotely profound post, but I will try and share my experience nonetheless.
Two weeks ago, I was robbed. It was the night of the Game of Thrones Season Three finale, and Wilf and I were headed to our friend Fred’s house to make fish tacos and partake in the epic television event. I realized en route however, that we had forgotten to buy a cabbage, so I decided to quickly run into Choices to pick one up. Once inside, I jogged over to the produce, sorted through the pile of shiny purple cabbages until I found the prettiest one, and quickly proceeded to the checkout. Which is where it happened. Completely out of nowhere, the cashier turned to me, smiling, and said, “$7.72”.
Tomorrow is World Oceans Day. Today I am eating apricots. These small, pastel orange fruits always remind me of warm evenings at the beach. And, I’m not quite sure why (although I assume some higher level organic chemistry is involved), but the delightful taste produced when the sweetness of their flesh mixes with the saltiness of the air seems to provide me with the best circumstances for contemplating life. But, while one would probably assume that my current thoughts are organizing themselves into an exciting post in honour of this special day, the truth is, they’re not. Because I don’t really know what to say. Of course this dilemma is not for lack of want, or knowledge of the subject matter; it is because—for the first time in my life—I am trying to decide how I feel about the ocean. Well, not the ocean itself. More specifically, the future of the ocean. And how young fisheries scientists, like myself, fit in.