(no subject)
Dear everybody,
I am safe, sound, really happy and doing so well. I arrived to the loving arms of friends and mashed potatoes, and that's just about the best welcome a girl could ask for. York actually seriously is full of marxists who wear plaid shirts and have beards. I have developed addictions to tea, vintage mugs, and basically all comfort foods since arriving. One day I spent over $100 at Honest Ed's, and I recommend that everyone do this at least once in their life. I still have no furniture, but I already have a crush.
Today was such a lovely Sunday. I had a delicious breakfast of veggie dog and coke slurpee and then headed to the antique market. Then I went shopping at Urban Outfitters (shut up) for a chandelier, but all the lights suddenly went out in the store. The darkness broke down the hardened, aloof exteriors of even the most ardent of surly hipsters. People kept trying to meet gazes and shrug shoulders at each other. I love when little unexpected happenings force people to connect. I also went on a long bike ride, sat on my balcony planting seeds, listened to the radio, read the Sunday paper, made tempeh stew, and baked lemon zest cupcakes. Every day here is like this, and I kind of wish there were a way to hold on to that forever.
One of the best Toronto Things To Do that I've discovered so far is trash rummaging and thrifting in rich neighbourhoods. Among the many things I have found for free or almost free in the past four days: a road bike frame in my exact size (to convert to fixed gear?), a cute little antique wooden chair, many, many mugs, bowls, plates, a tiny blue pyrex loaf pan, and a ceramic urn with pretty scrolly details. I also found an enormous crystal chandelier, but it was seriously about one eighth the size of my apartment and hence too big to take. I wonder what it's like to be rich enough to throw away chandeliers?
Anyway, now my apartment smells like a mix of soil, cupcakes, and stew. I am alternating between reading one of Simone de Beauvoir's many novels about torrid love entanglements, and doing the Sunday crossword in the Star. Tomorrow is a whole new day with the promise of brunch, Cat Power, and sale day at the rich neighbourhood's thrift store.
I am safe, sound, really happy and doing so well. I arrived to the loving arms of friends and mashed potatoes, and that's just about the best welcome a girl could ask for. York actually seriously is full of marxists who wear plaid shirts and have beards. I have developed addictions to tea, vintage mugs, and basically all comfort foods since arriving. One day I spent over $100 at Honest Ed's, and I recommend that everyone do this at least once in their life. I still have no furniture, but I already have a crush.
Today was such a lovely Sunday. I had a delicious breakfast of veggie dog and coke slurpee and then headed to the antique market. Then I went shopping at Urban Outfitters (shut up) for a chandelier, but all the lights suddenly went out in the store. The darkness broke down the hardened, aloof exteriors of even the most ardent of surly hipsters. People kept trying to meet gazes and shrug shoulders at each other. I love when little unexpected happenings force people to connect. I also went on a long bike ride, sat on my balcony planting seeds, listened to the radio, read the Sunday paper, made tempeh stew, and baked lemon zest cupcakes. Every day here is like this, and I kind of wish there were a way to hold on to that forever.
One of the best Toronto Things To Do that I've discovered so far is trash rummaging and thrifting in rich neighbourhoods. Among the many things I have found for free or almost free in the past four days: a road bike frame in my exact size (to convert to fixed gear?), a cute little antique wooden chair, many, many mugs, bowls, plates, a tiny blue pyrex loaf pan, and a ceramic urn with pretty scrolly details. I also found an enormous crystal chandelier, but it was seriously about one eighth the size of my apartment and hence too big to take. I wonder what it's like to be rich enough to throw away chandeliers?
Anyway, now my apartment smells like a mix of soil, cupcakes, and stew. I am alternating between reading one of Simone de Beauvoir's many novels about torrid love entanglements, and doing the Sunday crossword in the Star. Tomorrow is a whole new day with the promise of brunch, Cat Power, and sale day at the rich neighbourhood's thrift store.