my life en rose
The fork breaks apart the thick white filling, which crumbles to the side, and I glide it over the top to pick up some caramel.
I'm at a bar/bakery in the Annex, catching up with a girl I met in Paris, and filling a late night craving for cake. Her brother sits beside her, delicately spoons a few mouthfulls, and lets us finish off the rest of his. His friend, to my left, talks on his cell phone at high speed and polishes off his pie.
I love Toronto. From the moment I arrived, I knew I was home.
Slowly our big, dirty, 3 bedroom apartment is taking form. My small room suits me. It leads out into the giant den, where a TV sits on our new IKEA TV set-which I put together the wrong way, an attempt to be productive when I should have been sleeping- and a big table from my aunt sits on the other side of the room. We're still waiting for a big floral beast of a sofa from my grandma.
Boxes are everywhere. Yesterday we started at Value Village, picking up cheap home furnishings at student prices. Next we stuffed ourselves into a U-Haul, drove to a prison-like storage building, picked up one of my roomates' things, and lugged her heavy furniture up into our humble abode. Wanting to take advantage of the U-Haul, we were soon at IKEA, filling up on the bare necessities, and running around like headless chickens with our carts before closing.
Deep breath. We've been busy. I've already acquired a subway pass, a student card, a cell phone, a wok and an ironing board. I'm on the road to success baby.
And all the while Toronto sits there: colourful, edgy, dirty, alive and cultural.
I bought baskets in Chinatown, met a stripper named Hugo, then walked down to the metro, where two buskers played "La Vie en Rose".
It is la vie en rose. Even lugging furniture in the rain I couldn't help but smile. This is life, freedom, happiness. I have room to grow here.
Tonight a friend comes over to make cocktails and help me write cover letters for restaurants that may never hire me. Except for I like to think I'd be wanted anywhere.
Toronto. If I can make it here, as a journalist, I guess I may make it anywhere. But it's up to me.