If you follow me on Twitter or know me in real life or read this post, you’re probably wholly aware of my hate-on for Metro Transit. My anger usually percolates on poor weather days. And, believe me, we’ve had plenty of those this summer.

Preferred method of transportation. (Photo credit © zir.com from Wikipedia)

My recent complaint is with a route that shall be henceforward referred to as UNFASHIONABLY EARLY. For those of you who are unfamiliar with using the so-called “services” of Metro Transit, they include this thing called GoTime. It’s a posted phone number at each stop that allows you to call an automated voice who tells you in—what I’m beginning to think is—a snide tone when your bus is supposed to arrive. Lately I’ve been foiled by the only partial integration of an actual GPS system that’s been years in the making. Apparently, when The Voice tells you a bus “will depart” vs. “is scheduled to depart” the former means the GPS is tracking said bus and the latter means the posted time (read: schedule).

That’s frustrating enough because I’ve left work thinking I would get to the stop on time but the bus manages to get there early and leave me behind in the dust or, more aptly, the torrential rain. The early bus arrival is really the point of this post because, barring being a Time Lord, there’s nothing I can do to prevent this from happening. Believe me, a TARDIS would be my preferred method of transportation in this city. Far more reliable even if it gets me to my destination in the wrong year.

In any case, the bus I often take in the morning only runs a few times a day: twice in the morning, twice in the evening. I take the second (and last) bus of the morning. Said bus is frequently UNFASHIONABLY EARLY. I had enough the other day when it arrived at the stop fully six minutes before The Voice said it was supposed to be there. So I wrote what Cokebaby calls one of my “crackpot letters” to Metro Transit to lodge my complaint.

Here’s the response I got:

“I reviewed the situation and unfortunately the [UNFASHIONABLY EARLY bus] does not have a scheduled time point for your stop. To explain this if we look at the Riders Guide you will see the bus is scheduled to leave Stop [SUBURBIA] at 7:39 AM scheduled to arrive at Stop [URBAN SPRAWL] for 8:01 AM. Arrival at any stops in between these two time points depends on how many passengers the Operator has to pick up and drop off along the way. It may be the case that on average the bus arrives at 7:50 AM but in cases when there are fewer pick up’s and drop off’s then the bus may be there earlier at 7:44 AM.”

Excuse me? Pardon my French but WTF is GoTime then? No, really, I’m not even being tongue and cheek here. What is the effing point of GoTime if it’s just an imaginary time? Also, what other stops in the city aren’t “scheduled” ones and how do I find this information out if not through GoTime?

You can be sure that I’ve sent a response back. It includes the word “archaic” because I find it hard to believe that we’re living in 2011 and they can’t even get an automated voice to lie to me properly.

Longtime readers of this blog will know that East Coast By Choice is mostly about sharing positive stories. I save most of my whining for other channels both offline and online. That said, I’m breaking from that trend because the thing that hurts me the most in this city is breaking me. Maybe it’s just this time of year. Maybe I’ve got Seasonal Affective Disorder. But I’m certain I’m not alone. What’s the big deal, you might ask? It’s the city of Halifax’s lack of regard for pedestrians.

(Photo credit: Walmink from Flickr)

Yesterday, I left the house to happily head to the second day of my new job. Here’s the thing: I have to walk about 10 minutes from my drop-off point to get into work. None of the sidewalks were even remotely safe due to ice. Not a lick of salt or sand to be seen. The truth of the matter is, on a winter’s day, my regular bus stop is a treacherous icy slope threatening to glide me into oncoming traffic as I brace myself (unsheltered) against the wind. Thanks to the combination of all these conditions and the fact that I basically had to look like I was heading into work at the Ministry of Silly Walks, I made it into the office late. On my second day of the new job.

If only my story stopped there. Trying to get home has been another story altogether. Although there’s one bus stop in front of the office, the bus route doesn’t take me anywhere near home. So I have at least a 5-10 minute walk to get to one that does. However, that stop only services one bus that if I miss means I have to wait an additional 30 minutes. Foolishly following the advice of Google Maps on my iPhone (a service that has not failed me before) I decided to walk to another stop seemingly slightly further.

Twenty minutes later…

I finally could cross the road to a spot with an actual sidewalk. Of course, as fortune would have it, the bus flew by me before the light could change and I almost missed another bus that I had to transfer off of to finally get home. And I did eventually make it home. Ironically, although I left work slightly earlier than I did when working downtown at the CBC, I got home at the same time I used to.

The truth of the matter is that I’ve specifically not applied to certain jobs based solely on their locations within the city. Dartmouth? Forget about it. As someone who relies on public transit it is completely unrealistic for me to make that kind of commute. I might as well be still living in Toronto. This little conundrum I’ve found myself in is unexpected but I’m certain I’ll be able to work it out with some good timing and patience.

This is all to say that I hate public transit in this city. And I hate how the city gets away with not adequately servicing their public spaces like bus stops and sidewalks yet fines homeowners for failing to do the same.

But I love my new job.

(Thanks to @BlueShoes55, @giftedtypist, @FakeDSearancke, @houseofpickles, @rockitdev, @bloomingwriter, @rickconrad, @tinacapalbo, @KimHumes, @porcelainduck, @jeffmacarthur, @NailaJ for indulging my whining about this on Twitter.)

During our trip to Amsterdam and Bruges we came across some pretty bizarre things

A carillon on wheels

Inside you’ll see, that’s right, the makings of a bell tower. A musician plays pieces within.

One of four horsemen of the Apocalypse

Cool artwork but also kind of freaky when you realize you’re standing in the centre of a half circle of the harbingers of Conquest, War, Famine and Death.

The most photographed dog in Bruges

Our only celebrity sighting.

This is either a martini hospital or a snake rehab centre

We never went in to find out. And, the best for last:

May I serve you something inedible?

Next week: the long awaited food post will wrap up the blog posts for this fun trip.

It’s been kind of a lazy summer for me on the blog. Mostly because the rest of my life has been so busy. But I do promise to pick things back up…after vacation! That’s right, I’m going to Amsterdam and Bruges for two weeks. I’ve got at least one guest post lined up for while I’m away though. After I get back I’ll talk about the trip and then it’ll be back to business as usual.

If you’ve missed my writing (thanks, you’re sweet!) you can check out the CBC Book Club where I’ve been a contributing blogger since the beginning of the month. Here are my fave posts for movie adaptation month so far:

When love falls apart: Literary crushes who are heartbreakers on the silver screen

Infographic: 10 things that make for epically bad movie adaptations

An interview with a vampire (sympathizer): Becca Wilcott, author of the unofficial True Blood guide

See you (virtually) soon!

Photo credit: Valerie Everett from Flickr

In actual fact, I’ve long considered myself a bona fide adult. However, for the past few days I’ve been in Toronto for business while also visiting family and I was reminded of how perceptions vary depending on the eyes of the beholder.

For instance, my parents dropped me off at the swanky Intercontinental Hotel after I had stayed with my sister for a few nights. At the hotel, the doorman came to claim my baggage while I thought I was saying my good-byes to my mom and dad.

Um, no.

My mom had visions of the first day of Kindergarten all over again whereby she had to protect her offspring by insisting to the doorman that she accompany me and ensure my reserved room hadn’t been given away. There’s no arguing with the woman. She may be tiny but she’s also tenacious.

Then, while saying our goodbyes she managed to sneak a wad of cash into my coat pocket.

Even though I’m fairly certain she remembers I’m in my thirties, am married, holding down a steady job, have travelled to various parts of the world, she also knows I don’t get to Toronto that often. Likewise they don’t get out to Halifax that much either. So, I had to let her have her mom moment because growing up is sometimes harder on the people who brought you up.

[Here in Halifax and on the East Coast we're in the thick of winter with snow that's here to stay for a while. Next up is a blogger who's no stranger to this site. He interviewed me on Haligonia last year and has the distinction of writing the first East Coast Guest Post a year ago. He's back to talk about a powerful muse here in Nova Scotia. If you have a story to tell about living in the East Coast, drop me a line at kimberly.aliasgrace [at] gmail [dot] com for submission guidelines.]

By Giles Crouch

There’s something about living in a place that juts out into the most notoriously unevenly tempered ocean on our planet. Particularly when you’re not too far north for bitter cold, or too far south for gentle warmth.

We hover somewhere in between. Living on the turbulent edge of seasons and natures fell moods makes for one of those sublime perks that is Nova Scotia—the seasonal symphony of sounds one’s ear can attune to.

Photo credit: Janesdead from Flickr

In winter it is the quick crack of water and syrup freezing under the bark of trees as the temperature plunges downward. The woods snap and pop in a cacophony of chill, a gentle breeze tossing an undercurrent swoosh. When the snow has laid it’s canopy over the land and the air is brittle as you walk, that distinctive crunch underfoot wakes you up carrying you hurriedly forward. At times, when the snow is heavy and falling hard, caught between freezing rain and ice pellets, the sound against the trees is mesmerizing

When spring descends upon the land like a warm face-towel at the end of a long red-eye flight through the night, it awakens you so suddenly. As if the harsh scrubbing of winter had left the land clear to breathe and start anew. Spring rains hypnotize you to sleep, the uncurling leaves bring a sweet undercurrent of happiness in their song. Falling maple seeds spin and if you listen close, they sound of laughter. Different birds take up their songs and familiar tunes are sung of new birth and delights of the rising early worms.

As spring fades and brightens into summer, the lap of the waves on the seashores around the province calm the soul, as if the sea were laying down it’s angry concerto of the winter and spring months. The tempests and squalls will be but interludes to the pervading calm.

Summer rests hot and humid over the land as August gently rolls in. The blanketing of a fog just the soft timpani of a muted drum over the land. Drops of moisture hang like soft bells across the land. Ones heart is restful then, yet chuckling inside.

As autumn rolls in, the colours of the land turn into brilliant cascades of light. Accompanying this Monet’s canvass is the gentle rustle and fall of leaves. In the quiet of a sun-dappled glade as one sits, the falling leaves are gentle in their sound and a sigh escapes them, promising they will return with the turn of the seasons.

Where else in the world is one surrounded by such an ever changing symphony of sounds to inspire and ignite so many emotions? No wonder so many musicians, artists and authors have found such inspiration in this province…

Giles is an ex-pat Brit turned Canadian living in Halifax, Nova Scotia. A serial entrepreneur and passionate marketer, he is partner in Social Intelligence firm MediaBadger.

We’re a few days into 2010 already but I thought I’d post about some of the highlights of 2009 in my online world.

It was a pretty busy year.

Cokebaby and I travelled to the South of France for our 10 year wedding anniversary (today marks year 11)! We took a trip with his family in the summer to London and Ireland and got in touch with their roots. And we were treated to an overnight stay in the Peggy’s Cove Area in the fall.

Tofu dog turned two years old.

I was interviewed on Haligonia, did a reading for Seen Reading, wrote guest posts for Geek Girl Camp and Lindsay Olson, recommended a book on Advent Books. And I got to defend werewolves at (un)deathmatch where I’m continuing in Round 3.

Whew! A busy year indeed.

Top posts of 2009

The best kept secret of Halifax sushi restaurants
Bust A Move: Halifax Chicks edition
Tassimo
Pickled think: Beets
The origin of Alias Grace OR Me > Frankenstein’s creature
Cokebaby, the husband
Durty Nelly’s
Hamachi House
No boys allowed
SnauBar Lebanese Cuisine

Top East Coast Guest Posts of 2009
Hello Halifax: You can never go home by Gail Lethbridge
Chef Adam Todd by himself
Green Christmas by Charlene Boyce
Growing up Greek in Nova Scotia by Bessy Nikolaou
Racquel does fashion by Áine (a.k.a. “Racquel Valencia“)
Smart Bites: A little gal’s guide to staying that way over the holidays by Kristen Pickett
Joel Kelly’s guide to dressing sensibly in an office environment by Joel Kelly
Building an eco house? Start saving now by Jeff White
The culinary perspective of an olive thief by Suzie Ridler
Welcome to my ‘hood by Suzanne Hickey

Remember, I’m shaking things up on the blog this year and looking for more of your stories. Interested? E-mail me at kimberly.aliasgrace [at] gmail [dot] com and let’s talk.

It’s that time of year again when people around the world start thinking about setting goals and trying to alter their lives for the better. I’m not one for new year’s resolutions. That being said, I hope to accomplish some big things in 2010. Why this year? Call me superstitious but it’s my year. No, really, it is. You see, according to the Lunar Calendar, as of February 14 it will be the year of the tiger (which comes every 12 years). That’s my sign. My year. More on that and my superstitious push to make this a year to remember in another post though.

Photo credit: the trial from Flickr

One of the projects I’ve been slowly plugging away at in the past year is: a novel.

There, I said it.

More on that later also. Maybe. I don’t know if I’ll be as brave as @inspiredeggs and post any of it while it’s still in first draft. But do go over to his site and show your support of his creative writing endeavour.

The problem is, I’ve been feeling stretched for time due to other commitments. What that means is there are going to be some changes made to this blog. I’m going to be posting here much less in 2010.

But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let the blog or the soul of it wither away. You see, this is where you come in. Since I started this blog in 2009, I’ve been running a series called East Coast Guest Posts. That’s where people from all around the East Coast write about things that matter to them. I’m going to continue with the series but rather than do a week-long blitz of entries every month or so, they’re going to be spread out along with my weekly posts.

For the next year, I’m sharing my blog with you. Are you East Coast By Choice? Were you at one point but you moved away and wished you hadn’t? What are the things you love about living here? What would you like to change?

This is an open call for submissions. I’m looking for posts of about 400 words in length. If you’ve got pics, great. Otherwise I’ll find Creative Commons licensed images from Flickr. I also need a short bio and will link to your site/blog.

Interested? E-mail me at kimberly.aliasgrace [at] gmail [dot] com and let’s talk.

I’m sick. But I found something on the internet to distract you with get you in the mood for the holiday season. What’s better than opening presents on Christmas day? Watching a dachshund open his Christmas stocking.

Has anyone else been having trouble sleeping lately? I don’t know if it’s the weather, the time change or what but I feel like I’ve been on auto-pilot this past week due to lack of z’s. As a result, random thoughts have come to into my head. Sort of like the following:

AliasGrace: I think I’d like to be a philanthropist for a living.

Me: …

AliasGrace: What?

Me: What exactly do you think that entails?

AliasGrace: It’s kind of like a socialite except instead of spending money on yourself you spend it on other people. For charity.

Me: Where do you propose to get all this disposable income from?

AliasGrace: *shrugs*

Me: OK, then. You go on daydreaming while I get back to work. I do have bills to pay and a dog to feed.

AliasGrace: Yeah, you go ahead. I guess you’re just the socialite between us.

Me: ..!