It has been awhile when I posted something on this blog. Yes, another long hiatus. A lot of stuff happened that lead to dry skin, stressed out bones, and bouts of minor migraines, but I survived all that since a dream milestone was achieved by my husband and I.

We got ourselves our own home.

It isn’t anything grand but it’s the right size and comfort for a starter family. It has been a month since we moved from Downtown Calgary and we’re enjoying the quiet, suburban way of living.

Of course, I couldn’t just let go of thoughts I wished I were still living in Downtown, where everything is a stone’s throw away for convenience. I needed something for dinner, I just cross the street to buy at the grocery. I needed some work supplies, Staples is a few blocks away. I have a craving for shopping, the Mall is walking distance, or I could take the free train. Muscle pains? My favorite Osteopathy center is nearby. Wine? Well, I could skip in glee for its near distance. Now, a car is necessary to get anywhere or you could wait for a long time for the bus.

It is possible my upbringing contributed to my city living urges. All my life, I lived in a city. Back in my homeland, I lived near Makati’s Central Business District (CBD), which encompasses high-rise buildings, multitudes of malls, traffic-driven streets, noise and smoke pollution, you name it Makati has it. It’s the perfect example of metropolitan way of living. Noise, lights, parties, gossiping neighbors, annoying midnight karaokes, street dogs and cats, garage sales here and there, etc. And yet it is a place I call home.

Then I flew to Calgary and I settled into Downtown. Though it is considered the “city” and business zone of the province, it holds a slow-paced atmosphere compared to the metropolitan lifestyle of cities like Makati (Philippines), or Toronto (Canada).

But the one thing I truly miss in Downtown living are the restaurants that are in every nook and corner. Japanese, Indian, Greek, Lebanese, Thai, Latin, you name they got it. The Downtown lives up to the Canadian definition of being “the country of immigrants”. Regardless of where you came from, there is a 90% chance you will find a place to eat that will remind you of home.

So two weeks prior to moving, my husband and I decided we will try restaurants we haven’t eaten in. It felt like a “despedida” to the place we lived in together for the first few years as a married couple. It is the place where we learned to adapt to each other’s personality, where we started working for our dreams, where we experienced things we didn’t get to experience in our homeland.

Fast forward to a month, I’m now blogging in an all-white painted masters bedroom while my husband is awaiting a Skype call in our work room. Watching the tree sway outside the master’s bedroom window, I feel content with the quiet atmosphere our current community has. Trees line the cul-de-sac, rabbits abound almost everywhere and settles under our tree almost every other day, the neighbors are friendly, and the only possible noise you might get annoyed from is the sound of somebody mowing the lawn. All in all, it’s pretty nice.

The only downside would be that restaurants aren’t as near as I would like them to be. But hey, nobody has it all right? Recently, my husband and I decided that one of the best ways to get acquainted with our new community is to weekly try a new place to eat. As of date, we have been to several restaurants, which I am going to share in another blog post. What can I say, for me, food is a motivating factor in exploring a place.

Well, that’s all for now. Await my next posts on restaurants we’ve been to prior and after moving to our new home. Cheers!