Friday, September 30, 2011

Toronto; not so bad

There are few places I've been that I would say I genuinely didn't like. In a boring town there is usually something unique to be found, in an urban cement-covered city somebody has usually expressed art somewhere tucked away in a corner.  Even in Rome, a city I didn't enjoy whatsoever, the beauty of their architecture is undeniable. (And the Gelato is good, too.)

 I've trekked from Vancouver to Montreal, and up to the Yukon at varying points in my two decades of Canadian inhabitance, but for some reason always avoided Toronto. Debatably, the centre of the country; at least in terms of commerce.  So last weekend, I finally went. I expected a cold, skyscraper-ridden, empty feeling metropolis. But I was pleasantly surprised. Everywhere I looked it seemed as though cultural diversity was prominent. While wandering through Chinatown to the Kensington Market, I felt as though I had left my home country and in fact entered into something entirely foreign.  Between the smells of fish out in the open, and an overwhelming montage of colourful scarves and blankets, the scene from the matrix that i'd envisioned was nowhere to be found.  Sure, Starbucks was everywhere and you didn't have to look far to see someone wearing a suit, but that also added an element of it's own to the feel of the city.  In Vancouver, you don't have to look far to find an environmental-supporting hipster, or an underground indie concert, but a little further you'd have to go to find a career-driven twenty five year-old rushing off to a business meeting. I think I liked Toronto because it felt like it had some of everything.  The "fringe of society" loving people were there, there was music, and art and poverty, but there was also people of importance in terms of how our country functions, finance majors and people key in insurance firms. At times, I think we get so involved in finding culture outside of culture, that we forget that the suit-wearing, Starbucks-carrying, business-minded people are just as much of our society as those of us that vote Green. (And yes, I vote green).
















In conclusion, Toronto is now on my list of favs. 

Thursday, September 8, 2011

First days in Ontario

note the person on the right- hilarious!
I packed my life into three suitcases, I hugged everyone I love, shed a few tears, and got on flight WS0404 to Hamilton.  For four hours I sat restlessly, with my mindset nestling between anxious and excited.  The resounding words of "the captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign" finally signalled the end of my flight.  I stepped off, anticipating a legendarily warm Ontario summer day, only to be welcomed by a overcast gloomy sky. I heaved my bags off the luggage carousal, and was on my way to Redeemer.


me in my snazzy dorm
So now I'm here --




hard at work at my job...
The past few days have been filled [literally- FILLED] with meeting new people.  A sea of new faces, each one with a story yet to be discovered by me.  It seems as though I cannot shake hands fast enough around here.  Classes started yesterday.  My Wednesdays rudely begin at 8am (thank goodness for coffee).  Sociology, Biology, Philosophy, History and English fill the time until dinner. I didn't know my brain was capable of absorbing this much information, but I guess it's going to have to.  At nine I head to the Rec. centre on campus and perform the excruciating duties involved in my job: a few hours of facebooking, maybe a bit of homework, some online t.v. and maybe a blog post or two. At 1:00am I lock the door at the Rec. Centre and head to bed. And that's a day in the life at Redeemer!




Saturday, July 23, 2011

The Jump is Scarier than the Fall

The Jump was Scarier than the Fall
Last week I jumped head first, intrusting my life in a harness.  I've wanted to bungee jump for ages, so I finally did it.  I looked forward to it all day, and it wasn't until I got the very edge, with my toes dangling over the edge that fear set in. At that point you're strapped in, you're standing there ready to jump, turning around isn't an option for anyone with a sliver of pride. So they count down ... 3...2...1 and then, you have no choice - you've comitted. If you try and run back, chances are the heavy cord would pull you down and make for a painful jump, you have to just dive foreward and make the most of the fall. So that's what I did.  I jumped. And all that anticipation, all the fear, came together into an exhilerating surge of adrenaline as gravity took over.  And then, as quickly as it started, the free fall is over, and you're back on your feet as though you'd never took the plunge at all. I guess this is how my life feels right now, I've got my toes dangling over the edge.

6 weeks.

In 6 weeks, everything changes.
 
Leaving my home city is something i've idealized in my head for years.  Since half way through highschool i've dreamed of packing everything, giving this city a wave and returning only for major holidays -- at which point everyone will express how desolate their lives feel without me, and perhaps throw a parade in my honour.

But now it's real.  Today I looked at the phone. July 23rd, it said. In other words: July just flew by without you noticing, just like August will.  'Home' is no longer going to mean anything.  In a sense, home is my parent's house -- but even that feels like somewhere that I left memories, and I no longer hold any personal attachment to.  My room now will soon be filled with other people's things, and they won't give thought to the conversations I had in there, the things I learned while sitting against that wall, the cries I had in that room.  And why would they? It will be more theirs than it is mine.

Rediscovering myself scares me, a little bit.  What if I don't like who I am without all my stuff? What if Hilary, without her friends, family and church has become quite a disgusting person? 

What if I wake up one morning and realize I don't want to come back?


Monday, May 23, 2011

rain.


Holiday Monday, and it's raining.
 
As Shiny Toy Guns would say, "On a rainy Monday..." 

I woke up to this soggy day and was moderatly put out that the tanning session I had planned for today would have to be put on hold.  But something about rain is nostalgic.  As I sit near my window with a cup of hot tea, I find the rain strangely comforting.  Maybe because you can't really do anything.  You can attempt to do your errands and get soaked and frustrated, but if you just accept the fact that it's raining and sit inside reading a good book with a hot drink, you will have a lovely day.  It's funny, how we coinside rain with so many varying emotions.  When we feel depressed and alone, the rain speaks into our hopelessness.  It's dreary nature feeds the addictive nature of our misery.  And yet, when in the rain with someone we love - or something we think we would like to love, there is nothing more magical than being together, shivering and soaked.   In some senses, rain will reflect whatever we want it to.



I think one of the reasons I loved England so much was the rain.  We were constantly forced to stay inside and be comforted by our own company, and of course our tea.  Then when the sun finally did come out it was like everybody transformed and was happier and layed outside all day.  But without the rainy days nobody would have cared about the sunny ones.  As much as everyone loves a sun scorched day, of all the elements I think rain holds the most emotional clout.


I really wasn't intending to parallell this to "hard times make you appreciated the good times" ... but it's kind of unavoidable.  Sometimes being stuck inside, forced to slow down and just breathe allows us to enjoy the sun that much more when it is shining.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Too busy - But not actually

These past few weeks have been quite busy.  I just realized that is how everyone starts their anual  Christmas letter. But with Michelle's wedding on Saturday, and starting at a few job, it seems there is rarely a spare moment to stop and just - breathe. A few years ago, I read a book called Too Busy Not to Pray. To be honest I don't really remember anything about the book... despite the fact that I wrote a paper on the thing.  But I guess the title says it all. But maybe instead, when referring to my life they should call it 'Too Busy to Care at all', or 'You're not actually that busy, you've just conviced yourself that you are as a cheap excuse to put God on the back burner.

It's interesting, I suppose, how the first thing to go from our daily routine when things get hectic is time with God.  When I'm on some weekend retreat, with 3 hours set aside for 'personal time' - oh, you can bet God and I are real close! But as soon as my evenings are full and I'm rushing between work and errands, the effort I put into my relationship with God slips pretty quickly.  I have friends like this.  We are great friends when they have the time. When all their other commitments are otherwise occupied or work slows down, that's when they call me and we go for coffee. Sure. It's still always a nice time, but when I look at our friendship from a step back I realize I'm not a priority in their life, it makes me realize that we arn't really friends at all. We are just two people who get along and hang out when there's nothing better to do.


So I guess what I'm gettting at here, is if I consider my relationship with God to be this important thing in my life, why do I have it on the bottom of the priority totem pole?

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

All. I. Want. To. Do. Is. Sleep.

Two nights of insomnia and I am at the breaking point.  I've tried it all... avoided caffine, washed my sheets, a 1am McDonalds run, tried lying there thinking of nothing and still - can't sleep.  You know that scene in fight club where he says with insomnia nothing's really real, everything gets the volume turned down.  Well it's true.  I've kind of gone through life's motions for the last two days on autopilot.

Right now I'm reading 'Through painted deserts' by Donald Miller. It's pretty good.  Perhaps when I have slept more than a couple hours I'll write something insightful about it, but now is not the time.  Right now it's just about Don and his friend driving around in a van and there is nothing more I can think of.  

I'm not even sure I could recall what I did today.  This blog is so pointless.  But I would just like to make a note that you should all appreciate sleep while you have it cause once you can't, you will wish for nothing more.

Adios for now.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

I should like, get smart or something.

This September I am going back to school. I am super excited to move to Ontario, live in dorms, and dive into a new social pool.  I am less excited, however, to be drowning in reading and essays, feel underequipped and be under constant stress.  So, about a month ago I made a reading list for myself.  15 books I have to read before I go back to school.  For someone with the reading compasity of Twilight, this is kind of an undertaking.  And no, there is no Nicolas Sparks on the list.  I pretty much looked up '100 books to read before you die' and picked the ones that didn't sound stupid or I hadn't already read.

So here's my list:
(1) Dubliners- James Joyce [which I am finished]
(2) Atlas shrugged- Ayn Rand [I think I can get a scholarship out of this one]
(3) Pride and Prejudice- Jane Austen
(4) Age of Innosence- Edith Wharton
(5) Searching for God knows what- Donald Miller
(6) Through Painted Deserts- Donald Miller [Currently reading...]
(7) Fight Club- Chuck Palanhniuk [Finished]
(8) On the Road- Jack Karuak
(9) Nineteen Eighty Four- George Orwell
(10) Catcher in the Rye- JD Salinger
(11) The time traveller's wife- Audrey Niffenegger
(12) Alice in Wonderland- Lewis Carroll
(13) Life of Pi- Yann Martel
(14) A Tale of Two Cities- Charles Dickens
(15) The Lovely Bones- Alice Sebold