What Did I See Today?

Let me tell you.

On my way to volunteering today, I saw a little, blonde nine year old on a cell phone, talking smack and wearing a giant baseball hat with a weed-leaf on it.

That is what I saw today.
Toronto is a strange city.

Let me tell you about October twenty-first...

The twenty-first was my birthday. Now, I usually love my birthday. I love the well-wishes, I love the attention and I do very much love presents.

That morning, I woke up cranky. Was it because I was uneasy about being twenty-four? Did I sleep on the wrong side of the bed? Did I have a bad dream?

My roomate gave me a lovely present first thing in the morning. It's a bracelet made by a self-identified gypsy from Nova Scotia. I personally had no idea that there were gypsies in my home province. But there you go! There are. It is made up of a mixture of beads and buttons. I love buttons and have been wearing the bracelet constantly. I was still cranky though.

At school, everyone wished me happy birthday multiple times. I received multitudes of well-wishes on my facebook. I was brought to the front of the class and wore a birthday crown while they sang to me. This was all probably a bigger deal than was made about my birthday then when I was in grade three, and it was all very sweet. My friend Lindsay bought me a hot chocolate (it was delicious). Still, somehow I managed to be cranky through all of this.

Getting home from school that day was pretty miserable. It started snowing and was very, very cold. It was not a pretty, peaceful first snow. It was nasty, and I was not dressed for it.

When I got home, there was a card waiting for me, and a parcel notice. The card was from Alie, a best-friend of mine in England. After reading the perfect card I piled on layers (couldn't find my mittens!) and trekked outside in search of the post-office. I found it, got my parcel (which was huge and light) and trekked back to the house. The parcel was also from Alie and was a bright green giant pillow with a smiley face and tentacles. There was also a message from her on my phone that brought a smile to my face. Later that night, my parents called and we had a lovely conversation. A few days earlier I had gotten a parcel from them with two home-made pottery mugs in my favourite colour and by my favourite potter. New treasures to be filled with tea and coffee.

So, finally, near the very of the night I let myself be happy. I had been slathered in love and kindness all day, and it finally cracked my shell of a bad mood. Twenty-four is not as bad as I thought it was going to be.

Big Daddy

I don't like zombies, zombie movies, zombie costumes, zombie stories, etc. The idea of them makes me feel kind of ill, and whoever had a sick enough mind to think them up and create an entire genre of horror to go along with them is forever in my bad books. The zombie film that frightened me the most was "Land of the Dead". I won't give away the storyline, but essentially there is an incredibly frightening zombie named "Big Daddy" who got smarter, and lead the rest of the zombies in a revolt against the humans. That is all you need to know for now.


Last night I volunteered at a gala for the first time. The theme of the evening was Mexico, and we got to wear these really snazzy ponchos and sombreros. I'm not going to lie - I have never felt more foolish in my life, but I got used to it pretty quickly. Generally, people don't take you very seriously when you are wearing a technicolour poncho.

When the MC arrived for the event, he immediately caught my attention. He was wearing coattails,(and pulled them off). He was tall with a very strong and stern face. For some reason, I was instantly intimidated by him, and spent half the evening puzzling why.

This is why I was intimidated.

Halfway through the night, I walked by a merchandise table full of cd's, photos, screen shots and action figures of the zombie "Big Daddy". I was going to walk right on by, when all of a sudden I stopped and backtracked.
I looked at the pictures.
I looked at the stage.
I looked at the pictures again.
The MC was Big Daddy.


Since I know that he isn't really a zombie, (his name is Eugene Clark) and merely played in a movie, I swallowed my fear, my pride and introduced myself. There I was, wearing a dollar store poncho and sombrero, talking to someone who had lived in some of my very vivid nightmares. We talked about his MC-ing talents and his connection to the charity. I figured he heard people fawing over him a fair amount about what a convincing zombie he was, so I decided not to tell him that I had nightmares for a week after watching that movie. It was a pleasant and short conversation, especially considering we were both tired after the evening's events. I excused myself so we could both finish our tasks for the evening and go home.

How cool is that? I met Big Daddy.

On the subway today...

I know I have only just begun keeping this journal, but there is certainly a theme that has become apparent to me. This theme is the Transit system. I have a little story almost everyday that has to do with something I saw or experienced on the bus or the subway, and I find it very difficult to avoid it. When I am travelling from one place or another, it can sometimes be the only time I have to sit with my thoughts (especially when I have forgotten a book). I have decided to embrace this trend rather than fight it, as I have for my past few enteries. I hope people will let me know if it gets tiresome.

After that little disclaimer, let me tell you about something that happened the other day on the subway.

Have you ever seen the movie “The Village”? If you haven’t, and you plan on it, read no further.

There is a part of the movie where the heroine is travelling blindly (literally) through the woods to get away from a monster that you and she both know, doesn’t exist. It is just a person in a costume. There is a scene where you see the monster far off in the shot, frightening but not immediate. The camera pans to her, and then back to the monster; you jump out of your seat, because the creature is suddenly 30 yards closer and right next to her.

I am frightened easily by things such as these. I was travelling home with a fellow classmate when she motioned me to glance behind me. Sitting side by side, half a car away from us there were twins girls.

They were dressed the same.

Their hair was the same.

They had matching expressions

Their purses were identical.

They sat in the same position.

I was scared to look away in case they moved closer, just like in a horror movie. Luckily, they didn't move closer, and the subway lights did not dim and flicker. I am thinking that it might have been a performance art piece... Or maybe comedy where they gauge people's reactions without their knowing. It is hard to say. Nevertheless, I didn't notice them getting off the subway car, which made it seem like they just disappeared.

...Like ghosts.

Woooo! Ontario!

I just heard the “Ontario” in a song (by a Canadian of course) and in my head just thought:

"Woo! Ontario!”

This calls for a visit back to the Maritimes, pronto.

Election Day and a Full Moon

After exercising my democratic right this evening I went grocery shopping.

The air was crisp and cool, and the full, silver moon hung like a pendulum just over the street.

I found capapelli noodles at a quirky little store. Past so thin, the bag looks empty when you pick it up.

My house was cozy and warm when I got home.

Bliss.

I love Thanksgiving. Sorry Turkeys.

All the life and love that exists behind Christmas is present at Thanksgiving. There is a large meal to symbolize a good harvest. There is the act of being thankful for what you have and your hopes for the future. What makes Thanksgiving better than Christmas is the honest humanity that can be seen everywhere. There is no pressure of gifts to show your love. Rather than using presents to express yourself, you have to use you actions, your words and your heart do the talking.

So of course, this holiday is all about giving thanks. What am I thankful for? Well, I am glad you asked... I'm thankful for my family, friends, coffee, wine, autumn trees, swimming in the ocean, sand, banjoes, raincoats, cornbread, quilts, pillows, books, libraries, cbc, music, scarves, early mornings, late nights, wool, balconies, cameras, football, showers, mountain, cats and houseplants...

...I am also thankful for turkeys.

Andre the Giant and the Adventures of a Teeny-tiny T-Rex

The other day, I met a giant.

I like catching the bus as early as possible. Getting to school with lots of leisure time is a priority. I like being on the bus when it is not too full. I like having space to sit by myself, and I am always very thankful when the bus is near empty.

The other day I had was one of those blissful mornings when the bus was mostly empty. I was sitting in the back, out of everyone's way. Almost all of the seats around me were completely empty. I was reading a new book and enjoying my morning. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man who is regularly on my route. I would like to rephrase that. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a VERY LARGE man who is regularly on my route. He slowly starts walking to the back of
the bus. There is no reason that he would sit next to me – There has never been this much space on the bus before… In the history of bus rides –this is the most spacious.

"Don't sit next to me" I think.

He walks closer…

"He won't sit next to me."

He passes ten empty seats.

"Oh, for the love of Pete. Don't sit here."

He stops in front of me.

"He is going to sit here."

I would like to point out at this point that the bus bench that I was on was placed between two other seats. My shoulder was up against a half wall. The seat next to me is also against a wall. Instead of sitting in any of the many empty seats around, the VERY LARGE man stood for a
moment in front of me, and then proceeded to WEDGE himself between me and the wall.

This man was like Andre the Giant and I was completely dwarfed. The sight must have been ridiculous. I could not move my arms, and so I felt like a T-Rex turning pages of my book. Every sharp turn that the bus went around, my entire body was crushed between Andre and the wall. I was worried that if we turned too quickly, I would be squeezed too tightly and be popped out of the seat like a bar of soap and into the passenger across from me.

The bus eventually stopped at the subway station, which was my stop. I waited for Andre to get up first, so I could escape from my vice.

It wasn't his stop.

I wriggled around to loosen my noose. Nothing.

I wriggled some more. I gained a few inches. My feet weren't even touching the ground yet.

Apparently all my wriggling around annoyed him and he slowly turned and looked at me, as if he had just noticed that I was even there. He shifted, and I was sprung from my trap, and I moved on with my day, appreciative that I was still alive.

A Simple Sneeze

It is rather late and I am just finishing up some work for class tomorrow. The entire house is quiet. The street outside is empty and dark. I can hear the ticking of the clock across the room and the occassional hum of the refridgerator. I'm almost afraid that my fingers scattering across the keyboard are going to wake my roomate.

From the flat below me, I hear a single solitary sneeze that sounds exactly like my mom's. I stop typing - half thinking that it really is her. This of course is ridiculous.

As silly as it sounds, I am happier knowing that there is a familiar sound nearby. The simple sound of a familiar sneeze is enough to make me feel more comfortable in my surroundings. I am taking what I can get to help make this home, and I think it is working

Introducing my friend, Public Transit...

Public Transportation and I have gotten pretty tight over the past few weeks. We see each other at least twice a day, though it is decidedly busy during the week, and sometimes goes right by me, like it doesn't even see me, as I’m standing right there on the street, waiting for it.

We really like each other. It doesn’t mind that I’m quiet and read first thing in the morning, and I try not to get jealous when it is really full. I get annoyed when it stops and starts really abruptly and I bump into people. It gets a little peevish when I pay fare in nickels. Transit can be moody, and has been known to close its doors on people when they are running to catch it. Once in a while – Transit yells for no reason, and refuses to move – making everyone late and frustrated.

Sometimes, Transit is chatty and tells you about plans to retire and move to Scotland to audit courses.

Sometimes, Transit has a laugh like Danny Glover.

Sometimes, Transit sings while carting you around the city.

Sometimes, Transit is the happiest place to be, like when it is raining torrentially outside.

Sometimes, Transit waves at every single person who departs.

Sometimes, Transit gives you advice on life.

Sometimes, Transit sees a little old lady tottering along the street and halts in the middle of the street so that she doesn’t have to walk to the next stop.

Sometimes, Transit smiles and waves at you as you pass by. It also can get really excited when you wave back.

I forgive all of it's faults for all of these sweet 'sometimes', which add up to equalling 'most-times'. How can I not like it? Besides, it gets me where I need to go day after day... Not just sometimes.