Creampuff Needs to Tie a Red Balloon To That

I knew that when Katr and I moved from Toronto to Vancouver, it would be an adjustment. Obviously, we would (and do) miss our Toronto friends terribly and trying out an unfamiliar city, while adventurous, can also be daunting. For all that, though, we felt that we were moving from one big city to another and that certain things would remain constants. Mainly, we believed that certain amenities would be as available in Vancouver as they were in Toronto. It came to my attention this weekend that I need to manage my expectations around some of those amenities. I mean, I recognize that I've gone from living an incredibly privileged life in Toronto to living an incredibly privileged life in Vancouver and that ultimately, I have NOTHING TO COMPLAIN ABOUT. Which is why I need to tie a red balloon to the following three items and just LET THEM GO.

1. Why are there no fucking garbage chutes in Vancouver?

In our old building in Toronto, there was a garbage chute and recyling area on every floor. Sure, if you had gigantic garbage, like a couch, you had to take it down in the elevator to the dumpster outside, but most of the time, taking the garbage out was a real treat. This set-up also made so easy to recycle conscientiously that you would not be embarrassed to look Al Gore in the eye.

At our current place, there is a garbage room on the first level of the parking garage. To get to the garbage room, you take the elevator down, pass through a security door, go down a flight of stairs, pass through another security door, drag your garbage through the parking garage, pass through another security door and then you're in the garbage room.

Making it such a hassle to take the garbage out means that people procrastinate until they have several bags of garbage and recycling and have to do one big trip. You can hear them, angrily clanking and dropping the F-bomb (no, it's not just me) in the elevator. Usually, between their apartment and the garbage room, a bag will break or an item will fall out. They will not pick it up, because they are angry and sweating. And then when I take OUR garbage out, I will trip on the thing they dropped. By the time they finally pass the security gauntlet, they are so annoyed (and probably late for something) that they just throw everything in the dumpster. A lot of people (and not just the people in this building) confess to not making an effort to recycle here. IN VANCOUVER. Al would be very upset and I don't blame him.

2. Why the fuck can't we get good food delivered in Vancouver?

Katr and I have simple tastes, really. In Toronto, we had three food delivery standbys: Swiss Chalet, Pizza Hut (I know, I know) and Holee Chow (I KNOW, okay?). When we were feeling REALLY flush, we'd order whole wheat tree hugger pizza from Magic Oven or Thai from Spring Rolls.

Here in Vancouver, there is NO SWISS CHALET. The closest one to us is in Burnaby, which is a 20 minute drive away. Needless to say, they do not deliver. What the hell?

Here in Vancouver, we can't find good Chinese food for delivery. I know - IN VANCOUVER. We literally live IN CHINATOWN. We've ordered from four different places and it's sucked EVERY TIME. And our STANDARD for Chinese food is HOLEE CHOW.

Here in Vancouver, Pizza Hut delivers. But there's only so much Hut a girl can have. GAH.

Vancouverites - we are open to suggestions, so - don't be shy.

I grudgingly admit that the lack of available delivery food is probably a good thing, as it encourages us to actually cook more. Which brings me to my next point.

3. Where the fuck is my grocery store?

I have been extremely spoiled in that every place I've ever lived in Toronto was within walking distance of a grocery store. Creampuff likes the grocery store. Other people go to record stores or clothing stores - I linger in the bulk food section and squeeze brie in the cheese aisle.

Our first place in Vancouver was close to two different markets, both of which enjoyed my frequent cheese squeezing. But after a thorough exploration of our current neighbourhood, I was shocked to find - NO GROCERY STORE.

Now, I CAN get really good fresh fruits and vegetables a few blocks away in Chinatown. I can also get really incredible tea and 8 different kinds of dried squid. But I can't buy a yogourt.

On this point, I know that I am just being a pussy. I can take a bus or the Skytrain to a grocery store and it really only adds half an hour to my shopping trip. I am, however, still trying to wrap my head around the lack of grocery store and my tiny brain is having a hard, hard, bitter time of it.

Today, though, the bitterness must end. The garbage chute issue will be not be changing anytime soon and we've signed a year lease so . . . I am getting over it. I'm sure that there are lots of places to order from where the food doesn't taste like ten kinds of ass and we just need to find them and so . . . I am getting over that too. And as for the grocery store - whenever we run out of Nutella and I'm daring to feel in any way petulant about having to go to the faraway store, I'm going to look out at our spectacular view:

and maybe have some peanut butter instead.