Repatriation

re·pa·tri·ate

To restore or return to the country of birth, citizenship, or origin

I heard this phrase used on the news the other day and thought of my own repatriation. I'm not sure it's going so well. I'm still living in one room and sharing the rest of the condo with my roommate. It's her place so I'm feeling a little bit like an unwelcome houseguest, even though I pay rent and buy my own food and supplies. There's just something about being in your own place isn't there?

To that end, I will be moving back into my condo on October 1st. Considering my birthday is October 2nd and my anniversary of buying the place is October 7th, this date seems rather auspicious to me. Unfortunately, I don't own very much -- a bed, a desk, a box of pots, some wineglasses, linens and towels. My Dad is giving me a couple of plastic lawn chairs and an old stereo cabinet so I'm not entirely destitute. And my Mom's giving me a vaccuum cleaner. LOL

But I keep feeling like I'm caught in a bit of a twilight zone ...

I find myself still drawn back into discussions about Puerto Vallarta and I'm still getting emails from people who think I can help them with vacation accomodations and tourist attractons. But I'm really not interested. The more news I receive from down there (parks being plowed under, pollution, storms, crooked politicians, unbearably hot weather, blah, blah, blah), the happier I am to be here. So I think it is important not to dwell on my old life there and concentrate on bulding my new life here.

Pickle Power!

Aliens. Pickles. A misunderstanding. This is the first of three brand new tv spots for Bicks Pickles.

Watch this!

P.S. It's Canadian eh!
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These Made Me Giggle ...

Summer In The City

It's been a wild weekend here in Toronto. As if World Cup soccer wasn't enough, there were 18 events happening there this weekend. Included among them was the Molson Grand Prix (closing down the Lakeshore), the Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition (Nathan Phillips Square), Celebrate Toronto Street Festival (held at four major intersections along Yonge Street), Taste of Lawrence Festival (on Lawrence Street, naturally) and Corso Italia Toronto Fiesta (in Little Italy). The last event will be extended until the wee hours of the morning given Italy's win over France. The last time they won, St. Clair West was packed with half a million Italian-Canadians celebrating.

I love the city in the summer but it is getting exceedingly difficult to decide what to do! Thank the Goddess I don't drive because with all the street closures, I can only imagine how long it was taking people to get around town. Living downtown does have its advantages. I can walk everywhere! On Saturday, I gave my girlfriend's kids a bit of walking tour. We meandered down The Esplanade, cut through the St. Lawrence Market, strolled past the Flatiron Building with its beautiful three storey mural, admired the architecture inside BCE Place, zipped through the underground to Union Station and walked along Skywalk to the foot of the CN Tower.

From there, we headed down to Harbourfront to enjoy the free music, buskers, the international marketplace, the world cafe and the breeze off the Lake. I think the kids enjoyed themselves. What do you think?














This is my "little" godson, Martin Luc. He's taller than me now. *sigh*














And here is his sister, Julie Marie (my namesake) with younger brother, John Patrick, enjoying their ice cream (and that's their Dad, reading).

Luck Has Nothing To Do With It

I had a conversation this week with someone who was consoling a friend whose partner had dumped her on a special occasion. And another time, the same person had been dumped on her birthday. And yet another time, on Valentine's Day. My friend seemed to think that this was all just "bad luck" for this poor person and my comment was that her friend was the one common denominator in all those relationships and must take at least some responsibility for what happened to her. Good or bad, luck had nothing to do with it.

People often tell me I'm lucky to have lived in Mexico, like I just woke up one morning and decided *BAM*, I'm moving to Mexico! It took a lot of planning, hard work (two jobs), downsizing (selling almost everything I owned), changing my lifestyle (putting a tenant in my condo and renting a single room for more than a year). As I've said to people over and over again, luck had nothing to do with it.

Now that I'm back, I found a place to live in my own building and I started a job, on the date and at the salary I wanted. You think that's lucky? BAH! What people don't know is I spent hours on the phone and internet, searching for a place to live, trying to set up interviews long distance, posting my resume online, etc. Again, luck had nothing to do with it.

I had a conversation this morning with my dear friend, M.A., who knows me better (and longer) than anyone. We were talking about my job and she said she wasn't surprised when I got the money I wanted and started the date I said I would. She said I have an ability to focus on what I want and to work towards it with determination. A positive attitude is also imporant. Apparently, luck has absolutely nothing to do with it!

A Not So Typical Friday

On the way out of my building this morning, I nearly got into an altercation with a man who wanted to walk in as I was walking out. Previously, he was trying to use the console to get buzzed in but when he saw me, he made a beeline for the door. I assured him that I was NOT going to let him in. He was quite pissed. LOL

Walking down the Esplanade, an older man jogged towards me wearing the usual shorts and tshirt, running shoes and socks. But he was also wearing a headband AND navy blue gloves. What the f*^%?

As I was cutting throught the Market, I noticed a man and woman walking together, obviously shopping for produce. The man was wearing baggy sweat pants and as I passed them, he was scratching his crotch rather vigorously.

Prodeeding down Front Street, I passed a young boy on a scooter, wearing shorts, tshirt, a ballcap and a floor length black cape tied around his neck. Super Scooter?

And finally, as I turned the corner towards BCE Place, I passed an overweight man wearing a Hooters tshirt from North Carolina. It had a HUGE coffee stain on the front of it, right under the "HOOT". That one made me laugh out loud and draw the following conclusion:

BOYS ARE STUPID!

Have a nice day ...

Six Degrees of Separation

My girlfriends always joke that I know everybody. This is patently untrue. How could I know everyone in the whole world? I still haven't met that guy in Outer Mongolia although he has promised we can do lunch the next time he's in Toronto. *grin*

Anyway, another example to support my friends' cockamamy theory happened last week when we were all attending a wine tasting. We met a woman there who asked me where I worked. When I told her the name of the firm, she said:

"Well I know it is a big office so I'm sure you don't know the person there who I know."

I said, "You're probably right. We're on 5 floors and I've only been there two months. So what is your friend's name?"

She: "Diane Smith" (name changed to protect anonomity)

Me: "I sit right beside her!"

And so it goes ... the world is a very, VERY small place. *wink*