Some truths I've learned about living in Calgary:
There are real highways here!!! (With real dick drivers)
When I say real highways, I mean a road with more than two lanes, with a speed limit of 110/km, with exit ramps. Not the ridiculous excuses we have for highways on the island, where the speed limit fluctuates from 70 to 90 and involves stopping at traffic lights every five minutes, I mean real, bonafide highways. Unfortunately with real highways, comes real highway drivers and I am sorry to say that most of them are dicks. They pull the typical dick moves: tail gating, trying to pass on the shoulder, cutting people off out of no where. Every day that I had to drive down Deerfoot Trail in rush hour traffic my hands would be clammy with anxiety and I felt as if I just lost a few minutes off my life. I'm already a super nervous driver so this was no easy task for me, add the fact that I still have BC plates giving people all the more excuse to curse me out as I awkwardly tried to merge. The traffic is bad as is, but every day myself and the other commuter would have to deal with at least one major accident, adding to the already heavy road congestion and my inevitable fear. And when I say major accident I mean at least three cars involves, maybe one flipped over, perhaps even the jaws of life. On top of that, I spend a good part of my work day entering claims information so it just adds to my worry. I can't tell you how happy I am to live downtown and be able to walk most places, plus when I drive to work I'm going against the traffic so it's a lot less stressful.
The first result after googling "Calgary Crashes"
... enough said.
Okay, that's not really fair, as we are getting into summer weather the city is becoming very green and luscious, but when I first moved here it was a huge shock to me, especially being use to seeing the contrast of the greens of the different trees, the brown of the mountains and blues of the ocean. Even the river water looks a little brown to me.
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Now that foliage is blooming, I feel more at home. In fact, in a couple weeks the Lilac Festival will be taking place right next door to us and I can look forward to my street looking like this:
At least until winter when it's back to beige.
It's dry, like, really dry:
This is one that everyone warned me about when I first said I was moving to Calgary. Every single person stated, "Oh, Calgary. It's really dry there." My response was always along the lines of "Yeah, whatever, it will be a welcome change from constant dampness," but as soon as I got here I noticed it immediately. To the point where if I had my window open, my throat would get so scratchy and I couldn't swallow. My skin is having the worst time trying to adjust, my hands and lips bleed and my elbows get all bumpy, I am trying to make an effort to moisturize every day, but if I forget even once, it becomes very apparent. Even my hair is frizzier (if you can believe that's possible).
It's just as dusty:
Trying to keep my white car clean is an effort in futility, I can scrub Daisy till it gleams, but by the next day she'll be back to her state of dust covered glory. Same goes for my windows and patio furniture. If I don't wear my sunnies when I walk outside, I can look forward to a gust throwing some dust in my eyes. I guess I must just accept that everything in my life will forever be in a perpetual state of dustiness.
All the houses look the same:
One thing I really notice when I first got out here is because of the growing population, huge suburbs are constantly being developed. And because developers want to make money, there is no creativity involved. The new neighbourhoods consist of the same three houses, over and over again, in the same three colours (surprise surprise, usually a shade of beige!) Whereas on the island you can walk down a residential street and expect to see a mix of old and new houses, different styles, colours.
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It didn't help my suburban confusion that all the roads are variations of the same name! Jason and Candice live on Pantego Terrace, in their neighborhood their is also Pantego Place, Pantego Close, Pantego Road, Pantego Street, Pantego Circle, Pantego Blvd, etc, etc. When they ran out of Pantego names, they turned to the slightly different, but not at all names of Pantello, and Panorama. All I can say is, thank God for GPS... oh wait, except that my GPS didn't recognize most of the newer developments. Needless to say, I didn't venture out much when I first got here.
I wish I could say this is was doctored.
The rental market is fierce:
I really didn't think I would have trouble finding a place to rent: I have great references (including my cousin who is an RCMP sergeant in town); I have a winning smile and kind eyes; and I could always find lots of good listings on Rent Faster. Wow, was I ever wrong! I don't know if it's always this way in Calgary, or just cause it's spring or what, but if you didn't call the landlord the day he posted the listing you could consider it rented. Most listers would turn off their phone the first day after the 100+ phone calls rolled in, and good luck leaving a voicemail, they were always full. The few viewings I was able to schedule, were myself and at least 10 others being shown the unit at the same time. No one would say no to an application, everyone would suck up to the landlord, no one wanted to rent to me because I had been at my job for 3 days and had a mysterious absentee common law partner who still lived in BC. The applications I filled out asked for everything from social insurance numbers, rental references, work references, personal reference and a bank contact. At the last viewing I went to before finding this place, the landlord made us write an essay on why he should rent to us, AND tried to get a bidding war started by telling us to indicate if we were willing to pay above the listed rental amount and let me tell you, the apartment was ghetto and already over priced. While I was filling out the application there were about 8 people doing the same, and others constantly coming and going. The guy beside seemed to keep forgetting to breathe and would suddenly gasp and wheeze, all while talking to himself... probably one of the worst ways to spend a hungover Sunday. Of course, Graydon gets into town at the beginning of May, the first landlord he calls gets us in for a showing the same day and offers us the place 5 minutes later (with an immediate move in date). It was bizarre... he said he had bought the apartment while there was already a renter, so he had no idea how to be a landlord. He didn't even have applications for us to fill out or ask us for references. Graydon now is certain that I am a useless house hunter, or put no effort into my search. I think he's freakishly lucky.
Everything is cowboy or horse themed:
I get that Stampede is a huge deal here, heck I've been to Stampede a few times so I thought I knew what it was all about. What I didn't realize is that Calgarians live for Stampede. Everything is horse themed. Even in my office, not even close to the grounds, there are horse murals, statues, framed Stampede posters from years past. This confuses me greatly since I haven't seen any real horses yet, and only a handful of cowboys. Even the cop uniforms are cowboy themed:
They wear these hats year round folks
That's my little rant, hope you enjoyed! To all my newly Calgarian friends: what are some of the differences you noticed when you first moved here?
Be sure to check back next Monday for a new post.
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