The post in which I bitch a little (and resolve to be nicer)

I realized, recently, that I should be careful not to be so rude to perfect strangers here in Vancouver. This is a small city, and I am bound to offend someone, eventually, whom I will come to need a job from someday or, perhaps as importantly, is the person preparing my lunch. I don't need to give anyone a good reason to think I'm a jerk or to spit in my food.

I blame tiredness, which I blame for many of my tribulations lately, and am sure I will come 'round to my mostly-peachy self soon enough. In the meantime, and hopefully for the long term, I am resolving to (try to) be nicer. Maybe not "nice-nice" outright, but at least less rude, providing you are not smoking near me or hogging the sidewalk ramp. Or currently in the process of running me over in a crosswalk, in which case I will knock on your back window and pretend it was an accident. I am really going to try to focus on the many perfectly lovely (or at least odd and interesting) people I come into contact with every day.

Time for a rant though... Has anyone else noticed how many smokers there are lately? The latest statistics that I've read say that only 14% of British Columbians smoke. That means 86% don't. I realize that our much-applauded (deservedly so) anti-smoking by-laws that prohibit lighting up on patios or near entrance ways and the like have pushed the smokers from their cozy, if cold, chairs and turned them into roving zombies, searching for that elusive warm corner in which to yellow their teeth. But seriously - it seems lately as though ever second person on the sidewalk is smoking!

[Full disclosure: back when I was 21/22 I smoked for a about year, coinciding with a lot of clubbing and wearing of the-millenium-is-coming shiny clothes. I thought I was cool. I was not. Particularly since I preferred those super-thin long cigarettes, in menthol no less, from Amerdica that are made mainly for Southern divorcees that live in the trailer park. I don't know how much I enjoyed it, since it made me dizzy and nauseous most of the time. I quit quite easily cold turkey when I met Jamie, who hates the stuff and who I liked a heck of a lot more than smoking.]

It's a choice, sure, but what if my choice was to walk around with something disgusting and stenchy and cancer-causing and just blow a little in your baby's face? Would you feel just charming and warm all over?

I actually overheard a guy who was stinking up a patio in Steveston the other day saying "yeah, when I cough I know it's time for another cigarette." Dude, you might want to think about quitting. At the very least, please stop dangling your cancer stick over top of my baby, as I really prefer he not smoke. Same goes for puffing all of your smoke into my face when I can't get around you. Why don't you find a back alley and a milk crate and make yourself comfortable?

I don't think I'm alone, for two reasons in the last two days. First, I was passive-aggressively wrinkling my nose at a smoker we passed and telling Cole not to smoke because it definitely isn't cool when a stranger started laughing and engaged me in a conversation about how gross it is for a couple of blocks. Second, completely on her own, another pedestrian started laughing out loud on the street yesterday and when I looked over she pointed out a dude on a bike who was smoking. She said she sees him every day and finds it ridiculous, the combination.

Oh, and the sidewalk ramp thing? If you don't have wheels or a cane, you don't need the ramp. They're called legs. The sidewalk is only a few inches tall. Use your legs. Please stop cutting me off as I try to negotiate the ramp without being run over. I will seriously run into your ankle and pretend it was an accident. Oops, my goodness, gee I'm so sorry.