Dateline: New Westminster, BC.
(Note to self: Go see the old one sometime.)

As I've retold this story countless times in the time since I've returned, I figured the least I could do is share it here as well. I suspect it loses some of its boozy, imperative nature when committed to the written word, though; I think it's probably far funnier in person.

A cultural difference worth knowing: I was raised to hear pretty words, but not to take all of them at face value. An invitation to come stay with someone, if not repeated or mentioned again, was very likely someone just being polite -- not something to be acted upon. It turns out this is not true of everyone: some people issue an invitation only once, really hoping you'll take them up on it, and then shut up if you don't act on it. Ah, North versus South, are there any gaffes this cultural divide can't inspire?

Fast-forward.

I suited up early this morning, intending to be out the door well before 7. I know that my daytime minutes start at seven a.m., and that any call that starts prior to 7:00 gets entirely counted under night and weekend minutes.

Jody lives in Atlanta, and works the overnight shift. I don't call him as often as I should, but the timing of our lives means that he is finishing up his day as I am readying to start mine. I take a perverse delight in making sure my calls to him start just a couple of minutes before 7, with earpiece tucked securely in my left ear as I drive.

Vancouver. Two words: good food. Cheap sushi and fabulous Ethiopian food.

• Gastown: the group, us around a statue, and a very strangely-formed building.
• Nyala, a fabulous Ethiopian restaurant: on our way there, Brad and Alice, Jeff/Amy/Jeff, and the carnage. Oh, and Andy trying not to explode.
• Heather and Jeff at Shabusen.
• A very strange sign. Another.
• Various shots of the skyline: Amy, Andy and Heather, Heather, Jess, random mountains, Heather's silhouette, and Jess standing on a rather large tree trunk. Also, a couple of random shots at dusk with no one in them.
• Jeff Alami imitating the statue.
• A really enormous old tree in Stanley Park: yes, that's a real tree, and we're all standing inside it.

If you only look at one picture, take a look at the one of us standing inside the tree. If I hadn't seen that tree with with my own eyes—and stood inside it—I don't think I would have believed it from the pictures.

Anyway. You've probably wondered about the impersonal nature of the updates this week. It's nothing terrible, but dragon*con is coming up. Depending on the state of my exhaustion and stability of net access, there may or may not be entries before Tuesday.

If there are, though, expect commentary on all things dragon*con. I'm interested in not just the 'con events, but also the people who would attend an event such as this. I'll probably find all kinds of content fodder. Then again, as someone pointed out to me recently, just about everything's grist for the mill these days.

You might recall that we took a nice short holiday in Canada a couple of months ago. Now that Jess has made available the last of her pictures from Vancouver, I've got the full set. What I'm posting tonight are the pictures from out on the island (i.e., all pictures taken in Victoria). There are quite a bit more from Vancouver, back on the mainland, but I think I'm going to save those for tomorrow. These are plenty enough for now.

• First shots: the largest undefended border on the planet (if you don't count US Customs agents).
  
• On the ferry to Victoria: the fantastic view, Heather and Andy posing, Jeff and I posing, and two more pictures of Heather.
  
• First night there: Brad at our dinner together. Then, when everyone else had the sense to go sleep, Heather and I said, "So what if we've been up for over 24 hours straight? Let's go clubbing with Brad!"
  
• Shots from Brad's apartment: Alice sprawled on Brad's lap, Andy so tired he can't move, more tiredness with Heather, Brad sprawled out on the floor, Heather dragging Andy by his belt loop, Heather's CD carnage from A&B Sound.
  
• Dim sum: The group (shots one and two). Heather and Amy afterwards, Brad and Will afterwards.
  
• In downtown Victoria: The group of us at the Cheesecake Restaurant. At long last, a picture of Alice and Brad. The cradlerobbers rejoice at their young female finds. Jessica-the-starlady gets a star-shaped cluestick. We found a boat named Karina at the dock.
  
• At Judy's house for dinner: Amy with Guinness, Brad with beer, Frank (king of spaghetti), Heather pontificating, people crowded in Judy's kitchen. Jess contemplates climbing into Brad's old treehouse. Some group shots (1, 2, 3, 4). More shots from the backyard (1, 2, 3, 4). Judy's martinis are legendary and potent. She has the cutest piece of kitty art on the wall. Andy is mystified by pasta forks. Four random shots of her house (1, 2, 3, 4).
  
• The Trans-Canada Highway has a mile 0, so we went. Me, alone. Andy, fearless explorer. Andy and Heather. Heather. Jeff and Amy at the marker. Jess on the promontory. Alice and Brad hugging. Jeff and I again. Andy and Heather. The group (and again). The shoreline.
  
• A quiet pub crawl: The group. Amy, Heather, and Jess playing pool. A rather amusing bit of signpost graffiti we spotted on the way back.
  
• Some random scenery: Alice and Brad hugging, and a closeup of that shot. Also a similar one of Heather and Andy.
  
• On the ferry back to Vancouver: Alice and Brad catching a snooze, and Amy and Jeff having a schmoo moment.
  

Those of you who use the "Brad's Blues" skin will undoubtedly notice that the picture of me playing pool looks a bit familiar.

No, I haven't had these images sitting on my hard drive for a couple of months…really, I haven't!

Vancouver pictures tomorrow.

Under normal circumstances I would agree that the journey taken is better than the destination reached. This, however, I do not believe could be termed a normal set of circumstances. Our flights home: a truly nasty bit of thunderstorm downdraft coupled with delayed flights and sleep deprivation. In my mind, those can't compare to a relatively normal vacation.

Written on Saturday morning in Victoria:

* * *

Me, in shorts, sitting crosslegged in front of a locked hotel lobby in British Columbia. Such is the joy of getting up early to write and then discovering the joys of a) your spouse having the only room key, which you discovered (too late) that you needed to have to get back inside the hotel and b) that your travelling companions are still asleep and have the only key that will unlock the rental car.