By Lucy

Does anyone else live here? I’m unsure how soundproof the doors are, but there’s rarely any sounds drifting into the hallway from the other rooms. Occasionally I hear the outside door open and close. I was unhappy with being the room next to the exterior door, lest someone make a bunch of noise coming in drunk, late on a Saturday, but it was Friday night and no one woke me going in or out. There was a bunch of them in the kitchen the other day when they cleared me a space in the cupboard and fridge, but mostly the kitchen has been empty. The only indication that anyone has been in there is that the element covers have moved, or the sponge in the sink has switched places.

I suppose silence is better than a madhouse, but it means I have to go out of my way to get questions answered instead of simply observing everyone else, or asking casually. There are never any dishes in the dishrack, but there’s also no towel for drying them. Does everyone have their own? Or are they putting away wet dishes? I decided I might as well buy my own handtowel, since there isn’t one in the bathroom either.

I drove down to the reserve first thing in the morning to get gas, then joined the line-up for the car wash. When I got back to my place, I noticed a giant chip on the hood, probably from a rock thrown by one of the many snow plows I got stuck behind. Paint pen from the dealership ASAP!

After puttering around the room for a bit, I decided I ought to have a shower. The bathroom is a decent size, but it’s a retrofitted claw tub. Pretty, but rigged as hell. No one appears to be storing toiletries in here, so that goes in my room as well. Not a bad shower – much better than baths all the time, anyway.

I got an email from the government about changing my sponsorship. Margaret, the female who let me borrow her suitcase and scaffolding textbook for the first trip to Dryden, moved to BC recently. We’ve been bonding over bellyaching, but she’s also a good mentor. There’s so much more paperwork than I thought: paperwork for the work transfer, paperwork for the sponsorship transfer, changing my ‘preferred school’, and also separate transfers for my benefits and pension. Yes, if I wanted to I could have my pension remitted back to Toronto. The clerk suggested I might want to keep my pension in Toronto, but it’s actually more up here in Tbay, so I won’t.

At 5 I left to walk up to the hostel to meet Hanuman for dinner, but I got stopped by my Landlord who was loitering in the driveway. He’s a nice guy but he’s also got the gift of gab. He was talking to a buddy and commented to him that I’m ‘very independent’ and that all the guys renting rooms are going to treat me like a ‘princess’. If I were a man, would someone describe me as independent, or would it just be assumed? He also enjoys telling people how I went to England ‘all by myself’, as if that’s difficult. I was feeling a little silly and cowardly for my first solo vacation being the main English-speaking nation, with 0 stakes or a language barrier. Apparently, again, the fact that I possess ovaries makes that noteworthy. He eventually commented on me being (slightly) dressed up and I used that as an opportunity to excuse myself.

Me and Hanuman went to Madhouse (hah hah) for dinner, which is a nice little pub with the bar square in the middle of the room, like a carnival ride. I felt a little overdressed going in, but then I noticed one of the things on the menu is seafood linguini. I’m sure the Vagabond has made me something exactly similar… I wonder if he’d like theirs? There were Jack Kerouac quotes on the wall, which tells you a lot about the place. Hanuman is great company, lots of puns and dad jokes, but also lots of local knowledge. He grew up in Hamilton so we have a bit in common there, being GTA natives.

After dinner he insisted on walking me home, which is something I’ll have to get used to, I suppose. Everyone is so concerned about me walking around after dark here, like I’m some delicate flower. He also insisted on paying for dinner and I’m on the fence about how much I should fight people on that. I used to being the one always paying for dinner because I was the only one with money for it.

The Jack Kerouac quotes remind me, I never said what book Rich got me. It was the biography of Hunter Thompson by E Jean Carroll. When he put it in my hands the first thing I said was “Wait, the E Jean Carroll that’s suing Trump?” There can’t be that many of them, and it is the very same. I had to throw my head back and laugh – you know Trump is awful if she’s suing him when she had to spend time being harassed by Hunter Thompson!

It’s a strange book. It pretends to have been compiled by some woman named Laetitia Snap, who doesn’t exist, as she is ‘held hostage by Hunter’. In between surreal fictional first person segments are just blocks of quote of people talking about Hunter. I think it’s perfect; as chaotic and absurd and hard to quantify as the man itself, but it also resists the urge to try and define him. The quotes vary; some say he’s a maniac, some say he was misunderstood, and you’re left to decide which ones you think fits him better. The truth is always more complicated, right? To some people he was a hellion, and to some people he was just misunderstood.

Weird things set me off with something like homesickness. The Leon’s reminds me of the Leon’s off Essa in Barrie. I can’t lament that I won’t see it again, but it’s just this strange spark of emotion.

Sunday was a slow day. A writing day! My associate Gabe (I don’t think we are familiar enough to say friend) is a professional proofreader, so when he has time he gives my novels a good once-over. He made it about 50 pages into the current one and left me 124 edits. I also finished up the paperwork on my name change, and the paperwork for the benefits switch-over.

It’s a little annoying that if I was in Toronto, I could hand my paperwork in to the name change office, but even though I’m walking distance to the Thunder Bay office, I must mail it!

Monday dawned with a gorgeous red sunrise over the Sleeping Giant. I can’t get pictures from the way the kitchen is set up, unfortunately. I didn’t see the giant much from Fort William, but every time I come down Red River Road, and it just pops over the horizon and you can’t help but go WOW! With Mt McKay and the giant, the indigenous people here were blessed indeed. There’s such beauty in this land!

I went down to the courthouse first thing to get my name change paperwork notarized. It’s kinda annoying, but I suppose I could ‘assume’ a name with less fuss and this fuss is because I want a new birth certificate. The guards told me that the law clerk was shut because they are short staffed, but I could try city hall which was around the corner. They were very polite and helpful – the Barrie guards will barely say 2 syllables to you.

So I went around the corner to the town hall, where the clerk initialed, signed and stamped my paperwork without even blinking. The other people at the desk were talking about the weird thunderstorm we had the night before.

Paperwork done! My name change is on its way, within two months my old name will be a distant memory!

There’s some cool stuff in downtown Thunder Bay, just walking around in general.

I went to Giant Tiger to pick up a few things. They have quite a selection of stores here, I noted a Chatters and a Michaels, and a Fabricland on the other side of town. Plus two day shipping for anything on Amazon.

In the afternoon, jetlag or the affects of driving so much after a flight or the fact I’m so far north now hit me, and I went down for a nap for a couple of hours.

My hair is finally long enough that I can put it up. I was putting it up a lot so I could get used to it, but I’m finding I prefer it up. Just like why I used to cut it short, I like having it out of the way. There’s also some insane mood lighting in my room from the blood-red curtains and the afternoon sun.

The seat is always up in the bathroom, another sign that people do indeed live here. I suppose I can’t complain, I am the technical minority.

I went to bed early and was awoken by someone knocking on the door at 10 PM. Did I leave dishes in the sink? I opened the door and a young man stood outside, offering me a plate.

“I made us dinner!”

You… what? Have I ever met you before? I declined and explained to him that I was already in bed, as evidenced by the light being off and my pajamas. He apologized and scurried away. I laid in bed for a while, somewhat concerned that he was trying to court me based on no further knowledge than that I have two X chromosomes. Possibly he was trying to be nice.

I woke up before dawn and realized I had forgotten to get olive oil for my breakfast. At some point I will have to order my favourite olive oil from the store in Barrie. 150$ for free shipping, so I’ll have to put together an order for that much. Also unsure what to do with it come winter, because I won’t have used it all. Probably I could leave it at someone’s house. I jogged to the store in the pre-dawn cold and grabbed whatever they had there.

In the evening I caught up with one of my new friends who lives in Thunder Bay that I met online. We went for a walk around the marina – always meet people in public. But then, I have no space to entertain in my room anyway. The Landlord mentioned that the room is single occupancy and I knew what he was hinting at. I can’t imagine the Vagabond coming over to see me here. So it was an easy promise: don’t worry, no boys. People always chuckle and say “well you’re a pretty girl”, because being pretty automatically makes me fast or easy. Y’all should read Judy Blume, you need to learn something about assumptions.

In any case, it was a nice walk, and nice to meet someone in person. What am I at, 4 friends? Not bad for only being in town for the weekend so far.

Grain elevators for days!