that's hot

While walking down Queen Street West today en route to a tempura fix at Sushi Time, I found Much Music's (Canada's version of MTV) parking lot in a flurry of construction activity.

The good? They're holding the Much Music Video Awards this Sunday night... so I do get to see one of those summer street parties everyone's been telling me about after all!

The better? Much Music is right next to our condo. No need to camp out on the street waiting for the stars to show up -- I can just saunter over in my pambahay and slippers and shout, "Hey, <insert name of movie star here>, I live right next door! Wanna come up for drinks?"

The best? Elisha Cuthbert and Paris Hilton are gonna be there. Yeaaaaaaahhhh! Eat your hearts out, boys! (Sorry, my lesbian sides showing. :P) As I've always said, if I could be anyone for a day, I'd be Paris Hilton.

Oh yeah.

That's hot.

eleven

Four months ago, I left for Toronto unsure of what the next few months would bring. I came with the knowledge that this trip would be different from the rest, but I never expected it to be this different.

I couldn't have possibly imagined how life-altering this experience would be.

I couldn't have possibly known how difficult it would be for me to leave. I thought I would just feel a twinge of sadness, then hop on a plane and everything would be alright again.

But it won't be.

I couldn't have possibly known I would fall head over heels in love.

woof! woof! bark! bark! bark!

Or, as a Pinoy dog would say, "Aw! Aw!"

Hehehe.

The St. Lawrence Market neighborhood was filled with shoppers today, of both the two-legged and four-legged varieties. It was the annual Woofstock Festival for dogs.

There were dogs of all shapes and sizes shopping at the festival, from the matapakan-mo-lang-patay-na variety to the ano yan, horse?!? giants. Some were even clad in the latest dog fashion -- red booties, straw hats, and sunglasses included. And, for a change, it was the dogs lining up for free food samples -- free doggie ice cream, anyone? These dogs are spoiled! I suppose they'd be horrified if they see the askals back home.

Then, it was off to Queen's Park to check out Ontario's Parliament building and my future school (riiiiiiight), University of Toronto.

I've passed U of T's St. George campus countless times, but it wasn't until I dared to venture into its inner streets (Hart House Circle and King's College Circle), that I realized how picturesque the campus was. Most of the English-style buildings, complete with ivy creeping up their walls, were built in the 19th century -- they look so majestic and unreal (think Hogwarts) that I half expected Harry Potter to come flying out from the corner any minute.

I love the campus so much, I'm actually thinking of pursuing graduate studies here. Never mind if I don't actually know what I want to study. Teehee. Maybe something related to Aeronautical Engineering, because the Engineering building is so pretty, plus I've always wanted to be an astronaut. Oh, and did I mention the low female-to-male ratio in Engineering courses? :P

somersault in the sand

I live on Queen Street West, which is touted as the hip and alternative part of town given its proximity to Toronto's clubbing scene and fashion district.

A thirty-minute streetcar ride away, marked by the intersection of Queen Street East and Woodbine Ave., are the Beaches.

It's the same street, but the tempo of life couldn't be more different.

solitude


kew beach


the historic leuty lifesaving station


from ice cream to infinity

because the night belongs to us

we're not leaving without a bang

[clubbing at distrikt]

brighten my northern sky

[hillside gardens, high park]

the light at the end of the tunnel

Forgive me if most of the entries I'll be posting for the next few days are photographs instead of actual essays. I have two weeks left, and I want to spend it living the Toronto dream -- not typing in front of a laptop reminscing about the life that lay outside.

In any case, I've always liked how photographs can tell stories far better than any words I can put together. I've been taking more pictures than usual, trying to capture every little detail of my life here.

So that I will never forget.

the daily commute: the sheppard-yonge subway station

that's the way it is

yonge street in a blur

You’re walking down the street
You see faces you’ve never seen before
You realize
That most of them you’ll never know
And that’s the way it is

The process of saying good-bye is a long one.

I've been wandering the streets of Toronto aimlessly, without any destination. I walked simply to surround myself with the city, as if assailing my senses with its sights and sounds would somehow make this moment last forever.

Each place I pass, and each thing I do, almost breaks my heart with the knowledge that in two weeks I will never do this again. Even the everyday task of running down the subway steps feels heavy, because I know that once I reach the bottom of the stairs, another minute will have passed. Another minute of this experience gone by.

Another minute towards the end.

If it's possible for my heart to crumble into pieces at the amount of sadness I feel, it would probably be fine dust right now. Until now, I never knew it was possible to feel this much sadness. Every time the reality of leaving hits me, I feel like bawling and begging the heavens to freeze time.

The funny thing is, I don't even understand why it's this hard for me to say goodbye. It's been an extraordinary experience, but there are even more things and more people waiting for me back home. So why do I feel like this is the end?

Maybe Chasky was right in saying that just when I have everything happening the way I want it to be, I'm going to lose control again. I'm going to lose this place. I'm going to lose the people I've grown to love. I'm going to lose the person I was when I was here.

Forever.

Perhaps that's what makes it so hard. I know that when I say goodbye to this place and these people, it may be forever. The finality of it cuts sharp and deep.

But forever is a strong word, you say.

If not forever, for a long time. Even if I am lucky enough to be able to go back here, I will never regain what I have lost. The place will have changed. I will have changed. And the people who made this experience what it was may no longer be here.

Things will forever be different.

Do you believe
That with just one little smile
This whole world
Has changed a thousand times
Yet in a breeze
This whole world can be gone...
I believe that’s the way it is
--You'll Never Know, Richie Havens

gone fishing

a grandfather takes his grandchildren out fishing
[grenadier pond, high park]

seasons of love

Three seasons have passed, and it's almost over.

Nathan Phillips Square in the winter and in the spring/summer

525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year?
in daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee
in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
in 525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life?
how about love? how about love? how about love?
measure in love.
- seasons of love, rent

grange park

The park was almost deserted when we got there, save for the occassional couples strolling through the park, or some people taking a shortcut through the grass.

I ran on the playground with the reckless abandon of a toddler making a new discovery, flitting from the swings, to the slides and the seesaws. The sand slipped through my toes, and suddenly I was a child again. Out gurgled a laugh I had not experienced for the longest time -- a laugh that captured the essence of being happy as is, without knowing why, or how.

I closed my eyes and I was alone, just me on a swing and the vastness of the universe. I felt the warm breeze whisper on my face, and I strained to hear what the moon and the stars were trying to tell me.

But they were silent.

I wish I was a kid again, when I knew all the answers.

the day toronto became manila

Part of my morning ritual here in Toronto is to tune in to my favorite channel, CP24. It's the ultimate multitasker's dream -- on a single TV screen, you can get the news, the date, time, weather, stocks, traffic conditions, some features (depending on what time of the day you tune in), and even a list of upcoming events around town.

Not that I'm some uptight workaholic who feels the need to squeeze every second of her day. (Okay, so sometimes, maybe I am. :P) But for the most part, I watch CP24 for the weather, so I know whether to dress in my winter/spring/summer collection. Teehee.

*****

So today, I was doing my ordinary morning ritual, except there were three not-so-ordinary things in the headlines:

1. TTC workers were on strike today, and that meant there were no subways, no buses, no streetcars, and no way for me to go to work.
2. There was an extreme heat alert because the temperature was supposed to go up to 33C today.
3. There was a smog alert.
   

I was horrified.

Okay, actually, I clapped in glee first about news item #1, because that meant I had an excuse not to show up at the office today.

Then I started laughing because, hello, 33C is nothing in the Philippines. And their air quality with the smog alert is probaly the normal air quality back home.

*****

Then I got to thinking.

May strike din pala sa Toronto.

You always get these smug OFWs saying "walang ganyan sa States!" and trying to convince everyone else that their lives will change drastically for the better once they go abroad. For the most part, they usually succeed.

But I look at the lives of immigrants here, and I realize it really isn't all that better or easier. I've met highly-educated immigrants who've had to work blue-collar jobs in order to survive. I've met kids my age who've had to work several jobs since they were teenagers in order to get an education, whereas I have never had to work for anything until I got out of university. Even coming from a school like UP, I hardly know any working students -- much less students working two or three jobs at a time. So, maybe it isn't really a case of having more opportunities abroad, but of Filipinos back home being more passive about their future.

But, as I turned back to the news unfolding on my television screen, I saw this:

The streets were filled with commuters walking back home, and I realized for the first time how different a government-controlled public transportation system was from the system we had in the Philippines. Good samaritans picked up complete strangers from the street in light of this 'emergency', offerring rides to whoever needed them.

I watched the health department issue warnings about the heat and the smog, which ironically was still probably much better than the air quality we had in the Philippines. They even had several cooling centers open for people who were at risk from the heat.

At that moment, I realized how this so-called chaos reminded me so much of the way of life back in Manila. How was it possible that something deemed so unacceptable here was normal, everday life back home? I felt like we were being short-changed. How could we let ourselves settle for so much less?

And suddenly, I didn't know whether I wanted to laugh or cry.

things behind the sun

After spending my whole Saturday working, I wanted deserved to go out and enjoy the warm weather, so I headed out to enjoy what was left of Doors Open Toronto. It's two days in a year where buildings and other places of architectural, historical, or cultural significance are opened to the public for free. There were more than a hundred buildings open this weekend, but I woke up late (as usual) and only had a chance to see a few.

First, we climbed up the 17th floor Tower Room of the Canada Life building, which is right next to my condominium. This building's of special significance to me because it's the first thing I see each morning (or afternoon :P) as I leave the house. There's a weather beacon atop it that tells you the temperature, and flashes when rain or snow is coming. I don't think I'll ever see this building again without evoking a memory of my four-month stint here in Toronto. :)

Then, it was off to the lakeshore to go aboard the tall ship Empire Sandy and some amusement park fun at Ontario Place (which, according to Connor, should be pronounced on-teh-ree-yo instead of the way I pronounce it, on-tah-rio. Whatever. At least I sound British. :P)

And, because I'm so obsessed with my name, I just had to get my name engraved on one of those leather wristbands. It's rocker-chick-meets-girly-girl. Haha.

margaritas at margarita's

Today, the weather hit the high twenties, and it dawned on me that summer is finally upon us. I can't quite believe I've already spent three seasons here -- I arrived in the dead of winter in February, and now everything is bright and colorful with the first signs of summer.

I never quite understood what it was with Canadians and their love for the outdoors (and outdoor patios). I've seen a lot of magazines featuring lists of the town's best patios, and if you walk down any street, you'll notice how most restaurants and pubs advertise their patios to attract patrons. Now, if you're from the Philippines, you'll probably wonder (like I did) what the hell was so attractive about outdoor patios -- I mean, why stay outside when there's air conditioning inside? You'll get jabar pa! :P

I think I've somehow turned Torontonian, though, because now I always jump at the chance to eat/drink/hang out at an outdoor patio -- never mind if I actually have to move indoors after approximately thirty minutes because I get too cold. Hehe. I'll definitely miss this, because once I get back to the Philippines I'll start getting jabar everytime I attempt to stay outdoors.

Speaking of outdoor patios, Iris & I discovered a small strip of Baldwin Street (1 block north of Dundas, intersecting McCaul) that is lined with restaurants and patios. I suppose this is a local hangout, because I've never heard it mentioned in any guide books -- we somehow just discovered this place while looking for Margarita's Fiesta Room, a lively Mexican restaurant that served even livelier margaritas in enormous bowl-shaped goblets. (I hope that's a sign that we're going to Mexico. *hint hint*)

*Picture: Rasperry margarita at Margarita's Fiesta Room, 14 Baldwin St. Toronto.

so you'll understand

It's May 26 today.

I have less than a month left here in Toronto, and I'm terrified. A lot of people have told me I still have a so much time, or that I shouldn't be thinking of the day I have to leave -- but as each day passes, my heart grows heavier with the knowledge that I have to leave soon.

I always said that three months was just enough -- long enough to be significant, but short enough not too get too complicated. Unfortunately (or fortunately), we stayed here for four months. Since we got here, I have experienced so many things, met so many wonderful people, and discovered so much about myself.

The truth is, I don't think I will ever be ready to leave.

Leaving means I'll have to wake up from this dream and leave a lot of things behind. Leaving means I have to go back to my old life, the one I had put on hold while I was here. I'm scared that once I go back, all the things I have learned here in Toronto will be lost -- and I'll revert back to living that mundane, dreary existence. After months and months of running away from my inner demons, I know I will finally have to face my fears and make a decision.

I don't want to leave.