First Day ALL ALONE...8-O (this one is long...)

Wednesday was my first day well and truly on my own.  Aunt Cathie had to go back to work, and I had a couple of things I needed to get done, like getting my citizenship papers notarized, and picking up my OneCard (the U of A's ID/Transit/debit card).

I woke up at 7:30, briefly debated getting up, but decided life was too short to get up that early when I don't have to.  I ended up leaving the house around 11, after getting all gussied up, to head to campus for my OneCard.  I had a nagging feeling that I might have to get my picture taken on campus, even though I'd submitted a photo the week before.  (I made Mum take about a dozen pictures of me, then picked the one where I looked the least deranged.  It's my FB profile picture now.)

The drive to the university was (thankfully) uneventful.  I found a spot at one of the pay lots, and then promptly got to pay $2.00 for the privilege of parking there for half an hour.  Actually, $2.25, because I tried to purchase more time, but the stupid thing wouldn't let me put another quarter in, and wouldn't give me the other quarter back.  As I walked toward the Van Vliet centre, where they were passing out cards, I realized that I was walking in the back way.  Not many people going the same way as me, but whatever.

Inside, I wandered around for a bit, trying to find a sign pointing me in the right direction.  I didn't see an obvious flow of traffic, so I picked a random large hall to wander.  As I was on the verge of walking out of the building, I passed a large group of students coming in.  One of them was talking in an unmistakable Irish accent, another had to be Australian, and there was a beautiful tall African boy and girl walking with the group, speaking something that was definitely NOT English.  "International students!!"  I thought, then remembered that I'd forgotten orientation.  Oops.  I tacked myself onto the end of the group and we all trouped to the OneCard pickup together. 

I wasn't sure which line to get in to pick up my card - the sign said A to I --> and H to Z <--.  Not confusing at all.  I had a small giggle when the Aussie girl said "zed" when talking about the sign.  Then I remembered Canadians call it "zed" too, so I'm gonna have to work on that.

Getting to the front of the line, my worst fears were confirmed - they didn't get my picture.  No card for me.  Which meant I had to go stand in the Space Mountain-esque line to get a picture taken.  By this point, my paid half hour was almost gone, so I hiked back out to the parking lot and paid $6.00 for an hour and a half of parking (I didn't like the look of the line I had to wait in, so I played it safe).

Of course, when I got back to the scary line, it had halved - I must have come at a peak time, and the fifteen minutes it took me to walk out, pay, and walk in saw an upswing in the productivity of the OneCard staff.  It took far less time to get to the front of the picture line than it did to get to the front of the original pickup line.  Sitting down to get my picture taken, I tried to sit up, arrange my clothes so nothing was revealed, arrange my hair so my face was visible, and smile in a way that didn't cause my right eye to scrunch into nothingness.  The dude working the camera took the picture before I had finished my smile, and the picture itself is slightly squashed.

If Harry Potter ever gets re-done on BBC, I will be a shoo-in for Professor Umbridge based on that picture alone.  I will post it, as soon as I figure out Aunt Cathie's scanner.

After leaving the Van Vliet centre, I decided lunch was in order.  After a small pick-me-up (Diet Coke and a Subway sandwich), I went to get my documents notarized by a friend of Cathie's, Wendy, over at Centre 104, a big office building housing a bunch of law firms and a bank.  I remembered how to get there, after I passed the turn into the parking lot.  Which required me to go up and around to the next street, because many Edmonton streets are one-way, so U-turns are not possible.  Coming back down the other street, I turned in one driveway too early, which required me to turn my car around in a lot full of new Mercedes.  3 point turn my booty, try 50.

After successfully navigating my way over to the correct parking lot, I walked into the building and realized:

a. I didn't know Wendy's last name, and
b. I didn't know which office Wendy worked in

I called Cathie and left her a message, sent her a text, and Facebooked her, just to be thorough, but after half an hour, concluded that she was probably in a meeting, and not in a position to answer my questions.  So I headed home. 

On my way home, I belatedly remembered that the flow-through merge lane I was stopped next to was the right turn I needed to make.  Of course, I was too close to the truck in front of me to swing right, and by the time the light turned green and the truck moved, the idiot in the Audi next to me was futzing his sweet way along, blocking my attempts to get in the right lane.  So I got onto Highway 2.  And got off the 2 at the next exit, drove across the overpass, and got back on.  I was nearly home when I got a text from Cathie letting me know the name and company of Wendy, so I turned around and headed back to Centre 104. 

Wendy is a very nice woman, and was very helpful - she notarized all of my documents for me, wished me luck in my quest for citizenship, and didn't charge me at all.  She even spared me The Conversation, and merely remarked that you didn't get many Californians moving to Edmonton.
Heading back home, I remembered that the milk was almost gone, so I decided to test my memory and see if I could find the grocery store.  I almost made it.  I found A grocery store, Sobey's, but not THE grocery store, Save-On.  It was hidden behind the bank across the street from the Sobey's.  Walking around Sobey's made me feel like I was walking around the Park City Albertson's - it's not just a grocery store, it's a POSH grocery store - they even have an olive bar.  Not that I tried it, but it was there.  They also don't sell ham in packages larger than 8 slices, so they're out. 
There was a Tim Horton's across the street, and I'd heard rave reviews about Tim Horton's donuts, so I decided, given the day I'd had, that I'd try one out.  Well, they're good, but good like a Krispy Kreme - it's yummy, but have more than 1 (or 2, if you're daring), and you'll go into sugar shock.  I think I still prefer your typical, run-of-the-mill neighborhood donut shop donuts.

I made it home unscathed, and decided that it was time to start my blog, because there's just no way a day like that (or Thursday) fits into a pithy Facebook status update.