Ode to Montreal.

Change is such a strange thing. I wake up in the morning with a feeling of nervous energy in my tummy, a tug at my heart, and a leap of excitement out of bed. It's like something big and beautiful is coming my way and when I finally reflect on what the feelings are, I remember that I'm leaving Toronto in 3 weeks, bound for the greener pastures of Montreal! I'm picking up my life, putting it in a box, and moving to a city that I adore. I'm driving a U-Haul there, with the cat and dog, and I can only hope that I make it in one piece.

It's time to get the real stuff started and I think my new beginning lies in the freshness of Montreal. For me, Montreal is a place where I feel wonderful wearing sparkles and where there's a twist of culture that simply doesn't exist in Toronto. It's a place where I can make friends on the street at 3am and a place where I can buy beer in a corner store (forget corner store, I get to say 'depanneur' or 'dep' again!) until 11pm. Montreal doesn't feel the need to nickname itself (just for the record, El Toro never took off in any way, shape or form). It's a place where I can find original and independent boutiques that don't charge a fortune just because they're unique. It's a city that doesn't muzzle their pitbulls and it's a place where I can actually get to work on time. That's right, it has a better transit system than the TTC.

Winter Wonderland

In Montreal it snows for real and people don't panic if it does so for over two hours: schools stay open and people go to work. Real ski hills surround the city and a gym membership doesn't cost an arm and a leg. In Montreal school is cheap and the croissants and bagels are heavenly: something that has been lacking in my diet for too long. There's something in the air in Montreal, something that makes me smile and gives me a spring in my step, even in 5 feet of snow.

I will miss Cherry beach, my friends and my family, but I'm finally free from trying to make my life work here. Toronto was a shaky stepping stone but I made it to the other side and off I go!

Au revoir!

Dear Mr. Subway Voice,

I am completely perplexed by the fact that I can't understand what you're saying. Ever.

Mr. Subway Voice, why do you only speak in half words? I know that if I'm sitting at one of the few subway stops in the city for more than a minute or so your voice will start up. As soon as I hear you the hairs on my arms stand on end and my blood boils. Why would you even bother talking if nobody can make out what it is you're saying? What may I ask, is the point?

Sometimes I can piece together the meaning of what you're trying to say.
"No serv...Spad...apolo...delay...shut" usually means that there's no service between Spadina and some other subway stop, and that you apologize for the delay and that there's a shuttle service running. "Long... medic em...Younge" usually means that there's a longer than normal wait time for subway service due to a medical emergency at Yonge station. This stringing together of words only happens if I'm lucky though. Most of the time your subway passengers aren't that fortunate when it comes to understanding your announcements.

Mr. Subway Voice, would you please put some money into getting some new speakers? I mean really. Why even bother having the announcer job when it makes your passengers feel more cranky than they already are? When you pipe up after a 5 minute wait and you're totally incomprehensible, it makes me want to climb up to the crackly speaker and yell into it with all my might, "HEY MR. SUBWAY VOICE! WE CAN'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'RE SAYING"!!!

You make me so angry that I feel the need to drop the "F" bomb.

This morning I actually mimicked you out loud after you spoke, while waiting at Castle Frank station due to another delay. I got a giggle or two from some other passengers so this has become my new coping mechanism in dealing with you. It beats trying to climb up the subway car wall to the speaker and then swearing at you in front of everyone.

Your biggest fan,
Chelsea

Joggers. The Bobo Kind.

You know what I don't understand? People who go out jogging on the busiest streets in the city.

I'm out there, already a bit grumpy for having to weave my way through the mess of people, strollers, groups of teens with interlinked arms, dogs...and then you have this jogger, the one wearing the short shorts and the tight white t-shirt with bulging arm muscles showing through and a dainty little bounce in his step. Coming straight for me, I can see that the crowds are parting for him, making room for this person who seems to be on a roll with his jogging time as he glances at his watch every 5 seconds or so. It looks like he's hard at work, music pumping in his ears, sweat coming off of his face, white t-shirt has a translucent streak between his man boobs, sorry, pecks, and nobody wants to get in his way.

Well, I can spot these jogger types from miles away, and let me tell you, I dig my heels in and i stand my ground. I have about three shopping bags with me, a purse that weighs the same as a baby, and I'm on a mission to buy that hat I saw at that store about a week back. I'm walking with a purpose and I will not stray from my path for some goofy dude that thinks he's awesome.

The stare down begins, he can see me seeing him, and then he glances at his watch to make sure he's still making good time. He gets closer and closer, and the sidewalk is so narrow, there's no way his bulging muscles and my bulging shopping bags can both share this space. I battle onwards and lean forward into my walk as I put my focused face on. That jogger knows I won't be moving out of his way. A few feet away from him, I'm definitely at the point of no return and I can't just step off the sidewalk and into the road to let him pass by as this may cause a sweaty collision of muscle and brand new Urban Outfitter shoes. With a huge sigh and a screw-you look, he bounces off the sidewalk, light as a fairy on his feet, and jogs passed me. A few steps later, he's back on track, parting the crowds and glancing at his watch, oh, and grabbing the hem of his shirt and stretching it upwards passed his nipples to dab away the sweat pool forming on his face. Gross.

I won't let those cocky-type joggers, the one's that don't even really fit the profile of a jogger but instead look like bench pressers, the one's that jog through the most crowded streets in Toronto on a Saturday afternoon just to be seen...I won't let them get away with forcing me off the sidewalk. One point for me bobo muscle man jogger, and zero for you.

Toronto and I Are Breaking Up...Officially.

Dearest Toronto,

I am over you. I feel betrayed and used by you, and I can no longer continue on this way, knowing that you just don’t care. Toronto, you are having an identity crisis and I can no longer play along like it doesn’t affect me. I know who I am, and I don’t have to look elsewhere to figure out what I want to look like, how I should act, and how I want to be perceived. I am unique, I am an individual, and I have a flare for life that you are clearly lacking.

Toronto, you suck money out of me as if it grows on trees. I try to treat you with respect by taking the TTC, but you take and take and don’t give anything back. The TTC is crumbling, and it has become common practice in my workplace to use the TTC as an excuse for being late for work. I pay you $121.00 a month, but your subway breaks down and your streetcars and buses are completely unreliable. Sometimes they don’t come at all. The worst part is that you have made a habit of this kind of behaviour. You take my money and you give back little in return. I cannot afford to live on my own here, so I have a roommate. I work for a non-profit, so I’m on a tight budget.  Why would you charge $121.00 to watch me take your ridiculous subway (and fail at it), the one that was built with two lines, one of which is a “U” with the parallel sides running two blocks apart? Who thought that was a good design idea?

I am leaving you because I really can’t stand the fact that you have no culture, no individuality, and your social scene is completely appalling. I went to a fundraising gala, and apparently you thought it was cool to show up just to be seen. How completely shallow of you. You didn’t even know what charity was hosting the fundraiser, and you just looked passed me while I was talking to you, trying to spot anyone you knew.  I will have no part in this behaviour, in this “socie” scene; I have given up trying to fit in with your crowd. I’m breaking up with you because everyone within your circle is absorbed with their phone. Just yesterday, two people bumped into me on the sidewalk while they were texting. On top of that, they were moving in the same direction as I was. Toronto, you have made it so that I can’t say hello to anyone while walking down the street, as it scares people, and makes them feel uncomfortable. God forbid I make eye contact with anyone on your subway. Oh wait...everyone is on their phone anyway.

Toronto, I just can’t understand the new leader you have recently chosen to follow. The fact that Mr. Ford is a leader at all completely blows my mind. I blame uninformed voting and ignorance, and this just goes to show that you are easily influenced and quite passive. Mr. Ford has the maturity and thought process of an adolescent boy and the looks of someone that doesn’t give a damn about health. Good job Toronto, you’re being led by a loud-mouthed, fat-faced fool. I really do want the best for you Toronto, but when you pull a stunt like this, I have no choice but to throw my hands in the air. It’s laughable really.

On the flip side, you do have some great qualities and this is why I have stood by your side for four years, but it’s not worth it for me anymore. I can’t go on like everything is okay, because it just isn’t. When it gets to the point where I'm stressed out about your attitude and your behaviour, and when I've given you numerous opportunities and chances to be better but nothing has happened,  I then close the door and move on. I know break-ups can be rough and awkward at times, and it will be difficult for me to stick with my friends that are a part of your circle, but for my own sanity and growth, I must leave you behind.
Goodbye Toronto, I hope you’re happy and you find what you’re looking for.

Sarcastic branding. It must be.