coexistapart's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- homogeneity Forgive me if this is all over the place.... Yesterday I was at the pool for, easily, four hours getting caught up on emails. Today I've been at Second Cup for another two, and it barely feels like I've scratched the surface. My phone broke today; just plain fell off the chair next to the front door, hit its head, and then died. I can plug it in, but nothing happens. Tried the battery and SIM card but nothing appears to be working. I just spent a little over an hour hanging out with Dahlia. She had her boyfriend, henceforth GQ, meet up with us after a bit. HE IS SO FRIGGIN' CUTE. I knew they are perfect for each other--she's like me, and not exactly one to "try on" different guys for size; once she's picked one, it's either all or nothing. But this guy is just so CUTE; 100% Montrealais, bad Quebecer French, super accented English and everything. Surprisingly, he vaguely reminds me of Mavid in a charming, beloved kind of way. He's thin, long and lean just like Dahlia who is my height (slightly taller?) but with the infinite grace (and correspondingly infinitesimal girth) of a recreational ballerina. I had a fabulous pain au chocolate at the Petit Cafe Thuet. I know I've always been prejudiced about anything "North of Bloor" but things don't seem quite so bad as your quality of life and overall square-footage increase. What to have for dinner tonight, hmmm? Despite my substantial internet binges here and there, as everyone already knows you really do get SO Much done when you don't have the computer on and running 24-7. So I'm in Toronto, staying at my aunt's condo. Forgive me if I've said this already, but she has a beautiful property just south of Yonge & Eg. The area gets a bad reputation as being "older" but it's a two bedroom, two bath with open concept kitchen onto the living room and a gigantic terrace looking South. I've been cleaning up the remnants of her life as both a favor to my cousins and as a return on the beautiful favor (karma?) I received in 2003 when all of my favourite teachers helped me to do the same thing. Not that they were stuck getting into it, but they were all just so lovely: Ms. Mrchnd, Ms. Elsn, Ms. Chrstms, Ms. Sb. I don't have exact recollections--I know there were 6-7 all organized by Ms. Mrchnd, some mutual friends, and others just signed up to help out either because I really did have THAT good of an impression on the school at that point, or they just felt bad. Or they got work-school credit, who knows. Every time I speak to Jabu, she keeps reiterating to me what a "nice thing" I'm doing for Anthony and his sister Candice. I don't really see it that way. I mean, just for myeslf to stay here I have to clean. And the place is so dirty (both in terms of time gone by, and in terms of when it was last cleaned thoroughly) that there is just lots that I have to do to get by for my own level of comfort. Isolate, isolate, isolate only gets you so far. So as awkward as the whole situation could be, it gives me a little routine. I get up in the morning, I putter and make coffee, assess immediate cleaning concerns (i.e. things that I can do without causing a lot of dust to be disrupted) and then think about the next substantial task at hand, e.g. washing the walls in one room and leaving it closed for a day or heading downtown to workout at the pool. I've made reasonable progress all things considered, but the place doesn't LOOK clean at all, yet. I'm not so concerned about the little things (the inside of the kitchen cabinets are filthy because they were not lined with shelf paper) because it's not my job to make the apartment sellable; Anthony & Candice will do whatever they need to when they move forward with that. In the meantime I'm just looking to take a load off, while at the same time respecting that this is Elizabeth's life and not everything she did is ready to be thrown out in one fell swoop. The various old magazines maybe, but not alumni materials from the early 30s and 40s, the old girls' school stuff I know will be appreciated by the archivers. Incidentally, long-time readers will maybe vaguely remember that I was recruited by a sorority in first year. Very few people at my university were on Facebook at the time (less than 3,000) so it would be very easy to go through with certain search criteria and find me. My high school being one quick identifier, I was sent a winter recruitment invitation. Just based on the activities that were happening the night of the Open House, it didn't seem like my kind of thing, but I had a night class and figured I would drop by after that. I invited a girl from the floor above me, the ill-fated Mima, to go with me; I called when I got of class, and being the fat lazy person that she was, she bailed. I opted not to go because I didn't have someone to back me up, which is just plain dumb on my part, and since then have felt some measure of regret. I mean I doubt I would have fit in in the sense of the drinking, clubbing, what have you that regularly goes on with that collection of girls, but at the same time maybe I would have felt some measure of closeness with girls with whom I have arbitrary similar social interests. All of this is to say that that one lone sorority that did get in touch with me my aunt also belonged to for over 50 years, Kappa Kappa Gamma. That would have made me a legacy. Funny how life works out that way.
Thursday I had my taxes done in the morning at H&R Block. While I'm not fundamentally opposed to owing the government $200, just that the way in which the small lady taking care of my return clearly did not read half of the supplemental materials I provided just makes me think that there is something slightly off about the whole situation. Then I walked down to the bank to have my card replaced, and actually met Juanita on the way--about a half hour before we were set to meet. She's 7 months pregnant, and in the Bloor West land of sushi and other inedible eateries, I just followed her to Lick's for burgers & fries. I ended up walking with her south to Kensington for some veggies and cookies, then back up to the JCR where we had some nice coffee at my all-time favourite hangout, spent time just chatting on the red leather couches for another 2 hours before she had to run off to another appointment. Basically we spent the better part of 5 hours together, which felt like practically nothing. Names she likes are Gavin ("very Anglo, I know") or Garbiella, which sounds fine in English and simply beautiful with a Spanish lilt. Afterwards I headed to the pool to have a workout and an extended hangout with all of my favourite pool people working R instructional. As Guo Guo said when she came in, "it's like you never left! You belong in that chair, Staecie." I was sitting in the always out-of-order chair in the office talking with Burt, Ima, and various other people coming in and out (even Genghis was there! geez!) and it DID feel like I'd never left. Except as soon as I stepped out on the deck, recognized half a dozen regular patrons during the dull, slow long-course, I thought...if I'm working in Toronto this summer it's going to be for waterfront, only; I'm not sure that I could come back here. At least as my primary job. It would be fairly easily to supplement with the university, and dumb and simply spiteful not to take the extra money, in the long-term, but just generally I'm done with that pool and it's not-infrequent HR problems. I had a great workout, ran 4km without really breaking a sweat. Thankfully that shows that my cardio has been up with the elliptical use in NM, and the cals were ok given the burger & fries earlier in the day, but not the running as my legs were terribly stiff the past few days. A bunch of us made plans for dinner on Friday and then I walked home with Burt like old times. Stopped in on Anthony and his gf, who live several floors above him, and stayed for just long enough to visit with their GORGEOUS pug puppy, Elouise. Friday was just a waste. I spent 5-6 in confusion, having slept badly thinking there were bed bugs in the appartment. I got in and out of the shower just long enough to walk all the way from uptown to Chinatown (1.5 hours) in time for dumpling dinner. I had been pushing the dim sum, but the restrictive hours meant that Guo Guo said "let's just go to the dumpling house and have our fill of that instead." Food was ok, mostly just tasted the same which is not a good sign given we ordered 10 different plates. I recognize that dumplings are cheap, "remainder" food but that doesn't mean they don't have to taste bland. I'm not really complaining because I didn't really have any expectations, but my favourite frozen brand usually tastes better and that's not saying much considering the amazing ones I had in Shanghai. But yes, even for a city as large as Toronto, there's only one dumpling house: women stand in the window hand-folding dumplings. To some extent it's a gimmick and the quality's not really there. For a while I hung out crocheting at a coffee shop downtown, just trying to avoid coming back up to the apartment--at that point it was still a little bit of a disaster. Saturday I was at the pool doing a recert for most of the day. First Aid, CPR, Anaphylaxis, Oxygen, and AED. I want to stay current for at least the next few years--it's smart while I can still get these quick, inexpensive staff-only recerts at the university--but also because if I'm being smart, and planning ahead, I need current certs to get a job this summer. Too stiff to work out, I just did some computer work and came home. I've been going to sleep well before midnight most nights. Yesterday, Sunday, I didn't really have too much of plan. I hung out cleaning until I saw Dahlia. Originally my cousin Susie wanted to have me over to spend some time with her and her kids, but I just respectfully declined when it seemed as though there was a residential infestation in the apartment. The next couple of days promise to be busy. I have a meeting tomorrow morning with Nina. I don't really know what she's going to tell me given that I don't really know what to tell her myself. I mean I've already convinced myself of a certain position, and her job is to help me feel good about that decision. I mean at the end of the day it's not her money, and she's not keeping me--or it--warm at night, so.... Today I could deem as a waste if I like, except I DID clean some more. I need to keep crocheting to finish up this baby blanket, but I clearly do NOT feel comfortable working on something that will be NEAR A NEWBORN BABY in this filthy apartment. Can't believe I've been here for a week, basically, and that if I'm to leave as originally planne--say April 5 or 6, after the weekend--that would actually be relatively soon. I just can't imagine going back. I miss Big, and I do always come back to that when I go away: I always miss him more, not less. They say that's a good gauge for how much someone might drive you "crazy," and whether that is legitimate or imagined. I miss him, but I don't miss eBay and I don't feel like there's all that much back in New Mexico waiting for me. My life is not as full or as dense, it doesn't move as quickly as it would appear to here, even when I have so little to do and I am irritated by everone's constant, prying questions about my life, it is a change of scenery for now. Song of the Day: Love Remains the Same 9:46 p.m. - 2009-03-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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