Went to Aboriginal History Month Celebration downtown at Yonge and Dundas Square yesterday. There were a lot of wonderful sights and a lot of amazing music.
From left to right; Cliff Cardinal, Busker. Rosary Spence (my favourite, she has a beautiful voice), musician. And Carol Daniels, author of Bearskin Diary, winner of First Nations Communities READ award, and sang “Oh Canada” in a mix of English and Cree as a thank you
me getting coffee with my good friend andrew garfield: a fanfic
me: oh hey andrew i’m so sorry i’m late the TTC was running behind schedule and my train went out of service at st. clair west so we all had to haul off out of the train and wait on the platform for -
andrew: oh!! don’t worry about it! i already picked up your order.
me: a raspberry white chocolate frappuccino with extra whip? andrew, you shouldn’t have!
andrew: oh… it’s nothing…
me: no i mean you really shouldn’t have… i have the starbucks rewards app so i get points every time i buy starbucks and i was kinda counting on getting us both coffee and sandwiches and maybe pastries so i could rack up some starbucks points
andrew: oh! i’m so sorry. next time.
me: yes! next time.
andrew: terrific. how are you? how have you been? that’s a darling sweatshirt.
me: thanks! it’s valentino.
andrew: what? no! really?
me: it is! i found it in a thrift shop in kensington market! fifty bucks!
andrew: wow! great find!
me: thanks. it’s a favourite. anyway, i’m doing well these days. just finished my first manuscript. working on book two.
1. Roots, Canadian retailer. I can’t imagine an American company creating a campaign around being “nice”
2. Damn good Street Meat
3. Toronto Subway
4. Trying to stay somewhere presentable while trundling around and sweating all day
5. Soaked in Yonge-Dundas Square before I left. I just love cities so much.
6. Nitro Coffee, my last Page One stop.
I’m at the airport and I don’t know if it’s due to construction or just how it is, but this international terminal is junky. Hot, gross bathrooms. Super pack bar/restaurant because it’s the only one at this gate. No charging areas. Hopefully we don’t have to board on the tarmac 😆
At Union Station you’re already late. You step lightly through the sea of commuters. The perpetual mass of tourists block your way to the subway entrance. Impatient, you try to shove your way through the mass, but once you get through the station is foreign to you. You stand with your back to the turnstyle and open up your map. Then you wonder if you can squeeze in a quick trip to the Eaton Centre before your bus leaves for Georgetown.
Everyone wakes with a start in the night. They walk to their windows. Even if they see it they face it. Fear creeps up through their bones. The tower is dark. The tower must never go dark.
Never look to the lake at the west end of the Queen line. Never let the graves go marked. Never give the Lakeshore patients a reason to come back.
Lithe young athletes practice on the brilliant new green at Dundas and River. Loud pump up music blares. A low rumble ripples to no apparent end, and with no origin. The new grass ripples, then puckers, then splits as the anguished wail of hundreds of bodies covered in dirt reach helplessly for their escape. The field is green again the next morning.
The subway stops, it pulls backwards. The doors open. The driver opens the door to his compartment. He makes direct eye contact with the front of the train. He places his finger to his lips and makes sure they’re silent. Suddenly, theirs is the only compartment with people in it.
A homeless man stumbles at the crosswalk in front of the Forever 21 at Yonge and Dundas. You stop to help him up. Suddenly, you see yourself thanking you and walking away. You try to say something, but the only words that come out are BELIEVE IN THE LORD and ONLY ONE FAITH. Everything else is gibberish.
Rosedale is such a beautiful neighborhood. You notice the smell. Everyone notices the smell. When you know what it is you’ve been there too long.
The ice will never leave, everyone knows this now. The ice serves a purpose. We ignore how much the escaping air feels like the pounding of fists.
A Torontonian goes to Chicago, finds their exact same address as at home and steps inside. Their family is waiting for them.
(Highlights: Tegan hoping the gay doesn’t wear off, Sara talking about having sex with everyone in the crowd, and both of them dancing like idiots to cover a minute of technical difficulties, HA. Oh, and wireless Sara on “Closer.” And UP CLOSE Tegan on half of everything else!)